#a gay middle aged man who came out later in his life with a tragic backstory of coming out twice to his ex wife/mom only to pine after

[randomfandomss]

This is gonna be Trent @ Ted innit, and we all are going to cry really hard about it.

[ontheblock]

BABE U WRITE FOR SALLY FACE?? Anything with Travis (male s/o with him obviously) or Sally please :O your writing is amazing!!

YES I DO !! i used to have a bunch of wips i still haven’t finished but i figured i can still add sf to my list since it was such a comfort game when it came out haha. as per usual, this isn’t beta read, i fucked the formatting up twice but just squint when you notice any errors- also thank you love <3 i‘d give you a free bologna sandwich for requesting trav ily. 100% beef obviously /winkwonk

fabric

•warning: abuse, religious guilt, homophobia and f-slur use, bad first kisses, badly written fluff, travis being travis

Travis was meant to live a life molded for him by his father. The pattern was already placed on the fabric when his first cry shook the hospital room at 6:33am. He was supposed to be cut from his father‘s mold but Travis‘ fabric was already old and frayed, the intertwining strings of muted tones that held him together felt lose by the time he could run. Sometimes he thought about the reason why he was incomplete. His fabric wasn‘t strong enough to hold his family name, not stretchy enough to bounce back from his father‘s reactions. Travis‘ mother patched him up every time there was another bruise on his back or face. She would cut parts out of her own fabric to cover the ripped strings her husband‘s belt left on their son. But she had only so much left when the beatings got worse.

Travis was in middle school, attending a christian summer camp a few hours away from Nockfell. He never noticed how different the air was at home but the sky was so murky compared to literally everywhere else. His father thought it was a good idea to let the boy out of town while he took care of the Ministry business which was code for something Travis shouldn‘t stick his nose into. He never asked but someone went missing while he was gone. Tragic.

Not as tragic as the camp counselor calling Travis home on their last day. The boy didn‘t know about that but they told his father about some inappropriate behavior his son showed with a fellow camper - a boy his age, Kenneth didn‘t care for the name or where he was from. All he needed to know was what his son did with that boy. The counselor tried to calm the angry parent on the phone but as soon as the information was exchanged the line went dead. He didn‘t want to hear the washed up excuses. His son was young and it was best to get these urges out of his system before they could even develop - dig for the deepest root you could find and rip it from the still fresh ground before it bloomed into something ugly, even if that meant that the garden would never bloom at all. Kenneth was a man of action after all.

That evening Travis came home clueless while his father already stood in the hallway with his wife behind him, holding onto his hand and uttering whispered quick prayers but his thick fingers already curled around the leather painfully hard. The strain it caused in his hand only fueled the need for a release as he charged for his son who didn‘t even have the chance to slip out of his worn sneakers.

That evening his mother didn‘t stay when Kenneth told her to go to bed early. Travis asked himself if it pained her the same way it pained him when his skin split under the force his father put in his first few strikes.

“You want to hold hands with boys now?“

“My son isn‘t a faggot, is that clear?“

“I gave you a place in this filthy town. You will appreciate it and live a proper life!“

“You will thank me when you don‘t burn for being dirty.“

It wasn‘t meant for Travis to answer because by the end of the night he would not even think about a boy‘s hand to be soft and warm anymore.

Travis was older now but he never found enough of anything to mend the damage his father did that night. Travis didn‘t try to explain that he held onto the boy because they figured that they wouldn’t slip on the wet mud that way. Instead he kept quiet about it ever happening and his father was content with this as long as he pulled his son from the devil‘s path to sodomy.

And Travis thought so too until a thread of blue fabric pulled together a gaping hole in his fabric. It stuck out like a sore thumb - too vibrant but warmer than any patch his mother gave to him and when he sat on the grimy bathroom floor in school after Sal Fisher of all people gave him a fucking pep talk, it felt nice. The warmth let his tears evaporate so he could pull himself together for the rest of the day.

But it was short lived. The warmth spread through him so fast he felt like burning up whenever he sat in class with Sal. He tried everything to get that blue thread out of his life but pulling on it only felt like strangling himself and he regretted ever letting his bully persona slip in that bathroom just because Sal fucking Fisher found the note he threw away - the note that was about him but Travis never had it in himself to tell him that. He regretted his promise to be less of an asshole because he knew he couldn‘t. Not even three days later the heat in his belly was so hot that he boiled over when he saw Fisher talking to that ginger nerd by the lockers. He ended up calling him a faggot because how dare he be openly gay in the same town Kenneth Phelps lived? How dare he be happy like this?

Sal tensed at the insult. Did he actually think Travis could be better? And why was his freakshow friend not hurt at the insult when it still burned in his throat to say it? Why did it feel like the slur wasn‘t meant for Todd at all? Travis swallowed hard as he fled the hallway in such a hurry that the three folded up pamphlets in his barely zipped up backpack fell on the muddy vinyl flooring.

“Fuck, Phleps. Just wait. Travis!“ The boy in question tucked at his collar as he turned a corner just to slip into another empty corridor. They had a free period right after gym class and Sal Fisher was determined to finally talk to the boy who relentlessly bullied him to now avoid him like it was the other way around. “Jesus, I‘m not gonna pry but if your dad-“ Sally harshly bumped into Travis as he whipped around, finally coming to a stop. Shame crawled up the taller teen‘s neck when he didn‘t find the prosthetic nose digging into his sweater uncomfortable.

“Shut up! God, just stop!“ Sal was surprised that he would use his Lord‘s name in vain like that and if the situation was anything but this he would‘ve laughed. “Travis, I don‘t know how you feel but-“, Sal tried again but Travis was at his limits this time. “You don‘t and you never will, Fisher. Your dad would accept you being a dirty faggot but mine doesn’t!“ He tried to fill his words with venom but it all bounced back on the guy‘s mask anyway with how much his voice actually trembled.

There was a moment of silence that made Travis want to literally get struck by his God‘s angry lightning. He couldn‘t even leave. It was like all the root his father dug out slowly crawled back to feed on his shame and ground him in front of Sal who still had to react and maybe Travis should just tell him to fuck off so he wouldn‘t have to find out what he wanted to say next.

“Travis...“ Sal lowered his voice in a fake moment of privacy. “Are you-?“ Travis already shut his eyes as he clenched his fists. He didn‘t like where this was going but there was no more fight in him. “Nevermind. You don‘t owe me shit but I saw your back.“ Travis exhaled through his mouth until there was nothing left in his lungs. He knew where that question was headed. Are you gay, Travis? Are you the faggot and that‘s why you‘re so angry? He was glad that Sal changed his approach because even Travis himself was too scared to find the answer.

“So what, Sally Face? You‘re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If you even have one under that stupid mask.“ Travis harshly pushed his index finger into the boys chest and the sharp inhale he made almost made him freeze up and apologize. But he couldn‘t. He was too deep to go soft now. The look in Sal‘s eyes was enough to make Travis finally stumble backwards and push past him.

He didn‘t follow him this time.

His verbal fights with Sal Fisher were like a damn wake up call for the teen. The rush of warmth it spread in his chest and the cold shiver in sent down his spine were shaking his body every time. He started noticing that Nockfell wasn‘t that murky. Travis used to really like yellow as a child because it reminded him of his mother’s favorite sunflower dress. She was a different woman now. The vibrant yellow was fading just like her hair. Maybe it was just Nockfell, maybe it was because of her suffocating husband draining her of her life and slowly unraveling her fabric. It didn‘t matter now but to make a depressing story short, Travis didn‘t have a favorite color anymore.

But the sky looked like a pretty shade of blue on some days. He never noticed but his bathroom tiles had blue specks in them. He always thought they were just a weird grey. There were tiny flowers blooming in the most vibrant blue behind the school and he wished that they were behind the church too but nothing ever grew around that building. But he would pluck them sometimes when he was skipping gym class. His last fight in the empty hallway was weeks ago and he hoped that Sal finally gave up on his savior complex. But why did his chest sting at that thought? His fingers slowly clutched his sweater as he stared at a withering flower by his foot. Travis jumped out of his thoughts when the metal door creaked open.

“Yo.“ Sal pushed the door closed with his shoe as he held up a hand to casually greet him. His face scrunched up. “What do you want?“ Travis lowered his head again. The boy obviously noticed the fresh shiner on his face already but facing him still felt like he exposed himself. “Just wanted to confirm that the church boy was skipping class.“ Uninvited, the teen sat beside Travis on the grass, with a healthy distance of course. “Shut up. My faith has fuck all to do with school“, Travis spoke lowly but his voice was tired. Sal just hummed in agreement before silence draped over them. Not uncomfortably like the usual strained void of reactions when one of them dropped something they weren‘t prepared for. It felt ok like this and it felt like a blanket. To Travis that blanket was soft and blue but before he could shake it off and stand up there were strings of the obnoxious fabric already weaving themself into his personal space.

“We don‘t have to fight all the time.“ Sal didn‘t look at him and neither did Travis. He really didn‘t have a reason to disagree. Not one that wouldn’t blow his cover at least.

“Maybe I could come to your little church and-“ Travis head snapped up. “Don‘t“, he blurted out a little louder than he meant. “It‘s a joke. I‘m not religious.“ Sal snorted, plucking a few pieces of grass. “Yeah, because you‘re a sinner in the eyes of the Lord. You f-“ Travis had to physically stop himself by biting his lip. Sal looked over at him and Travis wished he didn‘t. “Sorry“, Travis mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, or eye since he was pretty sure his other eye never moved before. “I‘m trying to not call people that anymore.“ because all I hear is my father saying it.

“It‘s cool.“ It wasn‘t. “Why are you skipping?“ Travis huffed. It was weird to not let the conversation derail into verbal abuse. “I don‘t know. I fell. Hit my head on the door pretty bad. As you can see.“ Sal just hummed. “That‘s why you‘re limping, too?“ Travis blurted out a “yes“ a little too fast. Why was he nervous? His whole school life already revolved around cover up stories about the strange aches and bruises he got out of nowhere.

“Right.“ Sal let it slide, again. “You‘re acing algebra, Fisher.“ It wasn‘t a question so Sal didn‘t say anything. “Hmm.“ Travis cursed himself for never learning proper social skills but his father didn‘t like him bringing strangers into the house and his teen years were a constant feeling of push and pull of picking fights with boys that sparked an ugly tingle in his belly.

“You need a tutor?“ The silence seemed to be enough for Sal. Fuck him and his open fucking hand. “Maybe.“ Travis flicked a flower with his finger, dismissing the clear offer because his stomach ignited at the fact that Sal didn‘t hate him enough yet. “Maybe there is a tutor in Addisons Appartement, Room 402, who‘s free on the weekend.“ Sal couldn‘t help but smile under his mask as Travis huffed. “Fuck you, Fisher.“

Sal already forgot about his offer when lunch passed and his dad stood in the kitchen, washing their dishes, enjoying the background noise of his son watching TV with his cat. They were so engrossed in the VHS tape Sal put on that he didn‘t hear the door until his dad whistled from the kitchen. “Sally, door.“

“Huh? Oh. Yes, dad.“ He jumped to his feet, leaving Gizmo to the slasher movie he seemed to like. “Weird, Larry said he‘s busy“, Sal mumbled, opening the front door. “Oh.“ It was a knee jerk reaction from Sal because he expected everyone but Travis Phelps to knock at his door and truth be told, he looked like he‘d rather be anywhere else with the way his awkward greeting caught in his throat and died on his tongue as a huff. His eyes followed the way the blue strands hung over Sal‘s shoulders, the mask straps upsetting the smooth texture as a few chunks hung over the elastics. Travis hasn’t seen him with his hair down. He looked smaller in big sweatpants and a band shirt too.

“Travis?“ The boy‘s eyes snapped back to the mask in front of him. “So, algebra?“ Sal tilted his head a smidge. A small habit he picked up to better communicate what would otherwise be shown in his facial features. But it made Travis want to scream for a multitude of reasons as heat crept up his neck. “Obviously.“

Anyone else would‘ve told him to fix his tone or fuck off but Sal held open the door for him. It felt wrong but Travis took the invitation, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants. “Who is it?“, a deeper voice called and Travis almost jumped. He had to remind him this wasn‘t Kenneth. Mr Fisher wasn’t anything like his dad and he didn’t have to be on edge around the boy. “A friend“, Sal replied shortly, only getting an approving hum.

A friend. Did Sal see him as a friend? He couldn‘t dwell on it since he was pulled into the boy‘s bedroom that looked nothing like his. “Just sit anywhere.“ Sal wildly gestured into the room and Travis sat on the barely made bed as Sall dropped his books next to him.

Travis felt like there was something breathing down his neck the entire time they sat on Sal‘s bed. His shirt collar felt like it was about to cinch his neck closed, the dangling cross necklace he kept under his shirt felt hot to the touch like it burned the shape of Jesus into his chest with every sinful thought that crossed his mind as Sal explained the most bland and unerotic subject.

“Travis?“ The boy almost choked on his own spit.

“Romans 1:26-27.“ Travis stumbled over his own words but the verse was engraved into his head after writing and reciting it for a month straight under the stern eye of his father. There was a briefe silence for a moment.

“What?“ Sal looked up from the book in his lap.

“What?“ Travis felt breathless as he stared back at Sal. “Nothing“, he quickly added before Sal could even say anything else. “Explain that again?“ But he didn‘t. Instead, Sal pushed the book off his thigh, still staring the boy down. “Did you really come here for algebra, dude?“ No. “Yes.“ Travis fiddled with the hem of his shirt, not knowing if it was anxiety, anger or just bile scratching against his stomach lining to crawl out of him.

When Sal didn‘t say anything else Travis just reached over the boys lap to take the book himself but there was already a hand pressing against his shoulder. Travis hissed as he pulled his arm back, making Sal pull back just as fast. They stared at each other for a moment before Sal‘s gaze darted to his shoulder. “You fell pretty hard on that door.“ Travis clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Fisher, and back the fuck up.“

The boy shook his head, scooting away an inch. “Listen, you can say no because I would too but I can at least get you ointment for that.“ Sal gestured to his back and shoulder and something in Travis just crumbles as he lets his hands drop into his lap, staring them down to not look at Sal. “Ok. If it gets you off my back you parasite.“

Travis didn‘t plan this when he knocked on the apartment door. He expected to maybe stay 20 minutes before something would make him see red but all he saw was blue. Maybe he was cursed. All these years of plucking out the roots his father couldn’t reach were rendered worthless now that he sat on the rough carpet, holding his shirt up as Sal dug out the ointment.

How did he even get here? His heart beat in his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He felt the need to say something. He wanted to make it clear that this meant nothing to not make it weird but wouldn‘t that make it weirder? Wasn‘t this the same as his mother putting a bandaid on his cuts and whatever herbal mixture on his wounds? It wasn’t because he never felt the sick urge to kiss his mother.

“Ready?“, Sal asked, kneeling behind him with a glob of cool ointment on his index and middle finger. Fucking hell, why did he have to make it weird? He definitely had to say something now.

“It was my dad.“ Travis spoke fast enough to mutter his words but the long pause probably meant that Sal heard him anyway. He wanted to melt into the carpet, leave behind a stain on the boy‘s floor to annoy him just one last time. He didn‘t know what he expected him to say to that and he also didn‘t know why that was the thing he had to say. But Sal made it easy on him by just not answering at all. Instead, he dabbed the cream on the first bruise, making Travis inhale sharply but otherwise biting his tongue. Sal figured that Travis wanted to act tough by not showing that it hurt but actually, Travis didn‘t trust his voice under Sal‘s soft fingertips.

“Travis“, Sal spoke again. Travis wasn‘t sure if he hated the heavy silence more of the fact that Sal was the first to say something while he was rubbing little circles into his back. He didn‘t answer but that never held Sal back.

“Are you gay?“ His voice was so quiet that Travis wouldn‘t have heard it if they sat a little further apart but it had the same effect as screaming it for all of Nockfell to hear. Sal felt him tense up under his touch, already expecting him to jump up or at least yell at him. But neither of them did anything. Sal‘s fingers rested against the heating skin, feeling it rise with every ragged breath he managed to take. “Travis-“

“Fuck, Sal. What? Do you want me to tell you about the times my dad beat the gay out of me or do you prefer that time I wanted to kiss you in that gross fucking bathroom?“, the teen finally barked, letting his words sink in first before he hissed a quiet “shit“. The fingers on his back pulled away as Sal sat on his heels. “You wanted to kiss me?“, Sal repeated, slower than Travis but he just pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes and felt like the pressure would crush his face. He heard Sal shuffle around the room, probably getting ready to throw him out like he should‘ve done a while ago. But the shuffling stopped in front of him and something told him not to look but cold hands were already on his wrists to peel his cramping hands from his face. Travis opened his eyes just in time to see that mask uncomfortably close but before he could say anything, there was an odd sensation on his lips with minimal pressure. Sal was kissing him and it snuffed the flame in his stomach for just a moment, allowing the torched butterflies to unfold their wings and fly high enough to even make his heart pump overtime. But the feeling was lost just as soon when Sal inched backwards, pulling his prosthetic back in place before Travis could even take any of this in.

“Sorry.“ Sal threw it into the room for Travis to interpret. But the gears in his head threatened to jump out of place already so he reached out to Sal who already flinched backwards, holding onto his mask. “You don‘t want that.“ Sal pushed his hand back a little. “How would you know?“ Travis furrowed his brows at him but he was thankful. He wasn‘t sure if he could take seeing the boy bare like that but he was craving that feeling his father tried to snuff so desperately.

Sal just shook his head as Travis inched closer. “I‘ll close my eyes.“ Now it was Sal‘s turn to hole up in silence, knowing that neither of them could handle the mask coming off. Something made him trust Travis‘ words as he opened the bottom clasp which was the cue for Travis to shut his eyes. He did and seconds later he felt Sal on him again. One hand clamping over his eyes just to make sure and the other fisting the front of his shirt.

This time Travis felt the cleft in Sal‘s lip and the scar tissue ripping up the soft skin. He leaned into the kiss. Where were his hands supposed to go? When Travis didn‘t find the answer his body moved on autopilot. One hand threaded through the surprisingly smooth strands as the other clung to the small of his back.

Travis should‘ve been grossed out by the drool pooling out of Sal‘s torn lip but he wasn‘t. He should be grossed out by Sal being a boy but he wasn‘t. When Sal pulled back he kept his hand over Travis‘ eyes while the other wiped the spit off his chin. The kiss alone was enough to patch up his murky fabric with bright blue strings that dominated the colors his father painted him in. Travis didn‘t know what would happen after high school. Hell, he didn‘t even know what would be tomorrow. But he didn‘t want the bright fibers to unravel him again.

A knock on the door startled both of them, making Sal pull his arm away and Travis rapidly blinking. He didn‘t notice the mangled face first as the unruly blue caught his eye. His hand did that. His heart beat in his throat again as he overheard Sal‘s father say something and Sal shooting a hum of agreement back. His prosthetic was already on his face again before Travis could catch anything besides the scar tissue crawling up his jaw and chin before splitting his lips and exposing teeth and gum.

Maybe blue was his favorite color.

[inky-duchess]

History Bites: Best Royal Romances

In History Bites, I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary).

Love is one of the greatest reasons to do anything. Love will make people act strangely, become better people and level empires. In a world of arranged marriages and terrible spouses, some royals found happiness.

Antony and Cleopatra were the Ancient World's power couple. After Caesar's death, who had been Antony's mentor and the father to Cleopatra's son, Antony was sent to govern the Eastern Provinces. At Tarsus in Turkey, Cleopatra paid a visit to Antony. During the visit, Antony and Cleopatra got to know each other better and quickly things got romantic. It was not exactly the best thing for a Roman senator to have an Egyptian mistress and an odd thing for a famously intellectual Queen to take a notorious foolish hothead as her lover but the two were incredibly fond of one another. The two of them had three children, who Antony left the Roman Empire to in his will. The will was the final straw for Rome so it went to war with the couple, which ended in defeat. Antony committed suicide and Cleopatra sometime afterward.

Queen Victoria's marriage was an issue from the get go, because she needed a husband who was not her subject (because women were meant to obey their menfolk and a Queen shouldn't obey a subject) and one who was suitable. Victoria didn't like her cousin Albert when they met as teens but feel head over heels in love with him after they met again after Victoria became Queen. The two were rather smitten with each other and managed to pop out 9 kids. Victoria was distraught when Albert died and rarely wore anything but black for most of her life and rarely went out in public.

Josephine de Beauharnais was a wealthy French woman during the French Revolution which claimed the life of her first husband. Josephine caught the eye of the young Corsican soldier, Napoleon and the two quickly wed despite him being 6 years younger. Josephine was the perfect consort for Napoleon, she was an able diplomat and learned. When Napoleon was away, he often sent her raunchy letters which Josephine hilariously replied with nonchalance. Napoleon divorced Josephine because she was barren and he needed a heir. I doubt he stopped loving Josephine.

Charles II was not exactly the most monogamous of monarchs. The Merry Monarch and one of the few English Kings I think fondly of, had one declared mistress about five others. A friend of Charles saw Nell Gwyn playing on the London stage and decided to introduce her to his royal master, a wingman if you will. Nell and the King hit it off well because Nell wasn't as grasping as the other mistresses and knew how to make him laugh. She once took him fishing and when the monarch caught nothing, she tied a fried piece of fish to his line. She bore him too sons but felt as if Charles was not awarding them the right honours. When he came to visit them, she called one son over by saying "Come hither, you little bastard." Charles was angry at that but Nell reminded him that she had little else to refer to him by so Charles created a Dukedom for his sons. When Charles died, Nell remained monogamous to him telling one admirer than she would not "lay a dog where a deer that once lain."

Louis XIV was Charles's cousin and they shared a similar taste for mistresses. Madame de Montespan was married as Louis was but the two started a relationship together. Montespan was rather spoilt by Louis, earning the nickname "How much" by courtiers. Montespan and the King were together for a long period of time, having many children. A scandal came to light which involved a supposed witch and black masses where Montespan bought love potions and cursed the Queen. Montespan was lucky to avoid execution but she was dealt a personal blow: the King fell out of love with her. Montespan haunted the court as Louis moved on, keeping a bedroom for him at all times just in case he wished to visit. He never did. Louis moved on to the nanny of his bastard children by Montespan, the religious Madame de Maintenon. The two were kindred spirits and when the Queen died, Louis married Madame de Maintenon and the two lived the rest of their lives together.

Henry IV of France was married when he began a relationship with Gabrielle d'Estrees, a Catholic noblewoman during the Wars of Religion in France. Henry was increasingly fond of her despite their religious differences, even more than his wife at the time Marguerite of Valois. Gabrielle was a successful diplomat, going between the Protestant King and his Catholic nobility, smoothing relations by convincing Henry to become a Catholic. Gabrielle went to war with Henry, caring for his clothes and cooking his meals while on campaign. Henry was worried about her safety, especially when he saw bullet holes in her tent but Gabrielle refused to leave his side. Gabrielle sold her jewels to fund Henry's wars and once left the middle of a ball to rush to Henry's side. Her devotion led to Henry deciding to marry and crown her as his Queen. Gabrielle died suddenly before her wedding/coronation leaving Henry heartbroken.

Catherine the Great is on my list for worst marriages bur she found love after her husband was murdered. During her coup when she was making an important speech to rally the troops to her, a young cavalry officer named Grigory Potemkin offered her his own sword knot, a missing detail on her uniform. The two met years later and quickly fell in love. Catherine and Potemkin kept up their touching relationship throughout the wars with Turkey and Catherine's other lovers. They were incredibly close, Catherine giving him every honour and Potemkin helping her realise her dream of a navy. Potemkin died on the roadside, collapsing in front of his soldiers leaving Catherine heartbroken. It is rumoured by historians that the pair had been secretly married.

Have you ever seen bibles with King James written on the cover? Though King James was married and had sired numerous children with his wife, James had a string of noble young men as favourites, his favourite being George Villiers. James was incredibly fond of George, calling him "Steenie" after St. Stephen who canonically (no pun intended) had the face of an angel. When asked by Parliament about the close relationship, James replied that George was as close to him as Jesus was to his disciples. Though historians dispute whether they were actually gay (citing the fact that James had a wife and a loving relationship with her), it is entirely possible that James was bisexual. The two sent numerous letters to one another over the years, each rather touching

Inez de Castro is probably Portugal's most interesting Queen Consort. She was exhumed for her own coronation. Inez was the mistress of Prince Pedro and mother to his children. The King, Pedro's father, really did not want his son marrying his mistress so he had Inez murdered. Pedro was distraught at her death and hunted down the men who had done it, having their hearts torn out in revenge. He would never marry again so to make his children legitimate he had Inez exhumed and crowned Queen, forcing the nobility to kiss her hand and hail her as Queen. Nobody bothered Pedro about his kids again.

Though the film The Favourite (2017) is a skewed version of the relationship between Anne of England and Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, there is some proof to attest to the romantic relationship between the two. They knew each other from a young age and once escaped a house together to avoid the influence of Anne's father who at the time was embroiled in a battle to keep the throne against Anne's sister Mary. The two were incredibly close despite their rather differing personalities. Sarah did care for the Queen but had a habit of being quite abrasive and quick with cruel words which eventually ended the long lasting relationship between the two.

Peter I of Russia was an imposing man both in stature and in political policy. Peter dragged Russia toward Westernization and imposed radical reforms upon his country. Perhaps the greatest wave he made, was his marriage to Catherine, a laundress. Peter and Catherine were incredibly fond of each other, sharing an appetite of good living and each other. Peter did sleep about but Catherine joked about it in letters asking him whether he found any laundresses he liked. Peter fathered two daughters on Catherine but instead of handing control to them after he died he made his wife Empress Catherine I.

Perhaps my favourite royal romance story, is between Emperor Ai and his favourite Dong Xian. Emperor Ai and Dong Xian were chilling in bed together one day. Ai had to get up but Dong Xian was still asleep, laying on his sleeve. Rather than waking his lover, the Emperor cut off his own sleeve so he could get out of bed.

Emperor Hadrian is famous for his bitchin wall between Britannia and Caledonia. But Emperor Hadrian's greatest love would be the Greek Antinous. The emperor had Antonius come with him wherever he went and the two were fond of hunting and writing poetry. Antinous tragically drowned in the Nile, probably by accident but foul play cannot be ruled out.

Jeanne Antoinette Poisson or as you might know her Madame de Pompadour was told at nine years old that she would love a king. In her twenties it came true when she caught the eye of King Louis XV of France, earning her the title maîtresse-en-titre. Madame de Pompadour understood Louis in a way nobody else would. She knew how to read his emotions and knew how to keep him entertained. Though the two stopped sleeping together thanks to a medical condition Jeanne had, Louis kept her as his official mistress. Kings were not permitted to attend funerals so when Jeanne died, Louis couldn't go. He stood on his balcony in a downpour as her funeral carriage left Versailles, the only tribute he could pay the love of his life

Elizabeth Woodville's first husband was an early casualty in the Wars of the Roses, leaving her to care for two sons. Destitute, Elizabeth stood by the road to speak with the new York King of England. Edward IV was younger than her and was her enemy, yet the two fell in love and wed in secret. The court was furious at the marriage as Elizabeth was only the daughter of a baron. The marriage was extremely happy despite Edward's many mistresses and the unsettled times they lived in.

Elizabeth of York, Elizabeth Woodville's daughter, was a highly sought after bride in Europe. Henry Tudor, her uncle Richard's enemy, proposed to her from abroad declaring her would wed her in the Cathedral of Reims. Henry invaded England and won the crown at the Battle of Bosworth. He married Elizabeth and the two, despite being born enemies, lived a happy marriage together. Henry was distraught when Elizabeth died and never remarried.

Mary Tudor, the daughter of Elizabeth of York, was at one point Europe's most eligible and beautiful Princess. She was offered as a bride to the Prince of Spain and then the King of France, who she was married to. Mary was briefly Queen of France but her aged husband died soon after the wedding. Mary returned to England but she had a secret, she had hastily wed her brother's childhood friend, Charles Brandon. Henry VIII, her brother, got so cross that he fined and banished the two of them from court. But he quickly forgave them and the couple returned to court where they spent their short but happy marriage.

Elizabeth II & Prince Philip have been married for decades. The Queen was only eight when she met Philip and the two became friends, writing to each other during WWII. After WWII, Philip renounced his his Danish and Greek titles to marry Elizabeth, becoming Prince Consort and Duke of Edinburgh. Despite Philip's infamous faux pas and wild behavior, the two have a stable and loving relationship.

Edward III & Philippa of Hainault were only children when Edward's mother planned their marriage to gain the military might of Philippa's father. Their marriage was a happy one that produced 12 children. Philippa accompanied Edward to the battlefield many times.

Edward II is on my list for worst marriages but he was a romantic at heart. Edward was very close to a knight named Piers Gaveston. Edward's father didn't like this bond and sent Gaveston away. Edward's first act as king was to recall Piers and bestowed titles and land upon him like there was no tomorrow. Piers was seen as a bad influence and because of this he was killed by a group of rebelling nobles. Edward grieved for years and eventually went on a revenge war against the nobles who had killed his lover.

Despite being Nazi-Sympathizing assholes, no one could doubt that Wallis Simpson and Edward VIII did truly love one another. Edward was King and Wallis was an American divorcee (sound familiar?), and there were laws starting that he could not marry a divorcee. But Edward couldn't give her up do he gave up his throne for her and the two went off to live in France together.

Tsar Nicholas II and Empress Alexandra (then Princess Alix of Hesse) were never meant to be married. Alexandra's grandmother Queen Victoria did not approve of the autocracy of Russia and would have preferred that she marry into England. Alexandra herself dithered on whether to marry Nicholas as it meant a change in religion for her. In the end, the two decided to wed and they had a relatively close marriage. Some of their letters still survive.

[pascalls]

Gazebo of Horrors

Charlie enjoys a Halloween night with the regulars from the bar, solidifying the holiday as his favorite for a number of reasons.

Feat. Lisa, Lenny, Carl, Moe, Barney, Sam, and Larry

Author’s Note: This one’s gay.

---------------

Charlie couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night’s sleep. Twisting and turning in his sleeping spot, he was uncomfortably warm. Trapped in the middle of a nightmare, Charlie felt sweat bead at his forehead and the sound of someone giving chase. He ran, unable to outpace whatever it was that was at his heels, sharp, pointed ends of something metallic scraping the concrete as it jabbed at his tail. Only when he turned did he realize that whatever it was looked a lot like Ned Flanders…

He awoke with a start as a clang on the metal outside of his impromptu napping place broke him from his fitful slumber. He sat up, only just pausing before hitting his head on the plastic ‘roof’. Reaching up, he pushed it up and away, peering out and ready to shoot a glare at whoever happened to interrupt his rest when he noticed that it was already evening. Blinking away the remainder of his sleep, he weighed his options. Go back to sleep until morning? Slink out and back to Lovejoy’s before his absence was noticed? 

“Nurse Walker?”

The voice startled him slightly as he turned, spying the familiar face of Lisa Simpson who seemed to be staring at him quizzically. As if he’d grown another head. 

“Were you… sleeping in there?” She asked, pointing at the metal dumpster that Charlie had  emerged from. Astute as ever, he thought. 

“...I might’ve been,” he replied, about to come up with some sort of excuse for why he’d chosen such a place to hide away and nap, but she provided a fantastic distraction as he took in what she was wearing. Definitely not her usual outfit. “...What are you wearing?” 

“Oh!” Lisa grinned with enthusiasm, spreading her arms out and doing a little twirl to show off her clothes; a purple dress with yellow flowers in her hair and a small veil-like addition trailing behind her. “I’m Ada Lovelace! The first ever computer programmer. She was an English mathematician who totally blew Charles Babbage away by utilizing his Analytical Engine in ways he never even thought of.” 

The information sailed right over Charlie’s head, but as he leaned out of his dumpster bed, he watched her with a little smile. Ah, she would go places. Hopefully not into a dumpster like him. But as she spoke, his brain began to putter back to life. Wait. Costume? He glanced down to her hands which held a bag that had to have been half full by then. Full of candy?

His attention drifted to the nearby street as he noted that Lisa was not the only one in unusual garb. Nearby, he heard the telltale voices of Bart, Milhouse, and yes, even Nelson as they presumably trailed along ahead of Lisa. And it was about then that he realized - Oh. 

“...It’s Halloween,” he said, interrupting Lisa’s drawn out explanation of said ‘analytical engine’ and how tragic it was that Lovelace had died at such a young age. Though she was a little frustrated at having been cut off, she responded with a nod. 

“Yeah. Are you gonna dress up as anything?”

Charlie blinked down at her once or twice. Thinking that over. Well. No. Because he hadn’t even remembered that Halloween was a thing. Until just now. But thinking that through even further, Charlie recognized that he dressed up like it was Halloween every damn day. Which meant that… Maybe… Just maybe…

“...No!” He proclaimed, taking a moment to get his legs under him to spring himself out of the dumpster, landing with a rather pleased expression on his face next to Lisa. “For once, I am not dressing up as a damn thing!” 

“Huh. I guess you don’t have to!” Lisa said as she looked him over with a little smile. “It’s like you have a built in costume.” 

“For once, being a terrible, horrible abomination to society is going to pay off, my intelligent little friend.” Reaching down, he gave her a gentle pat on the head and then nudged her in the direction of her brother’s fading voice. “Go on! I’m gonna find some trouble to get up to while I have the damn chance, for once.” 

Lisa didn’t argue. And she made a mental note to herself to not tell anyone that she’d found the normally downtrodden nurse holed up in the trash. He… probably didn’t need that floating around about him. So she gave him a little wave before running after the others, calling for them to wait for her.

Charlie, meanwhile, was rooted to the spot as his mind raced with possibilities. He could do… SO MUCH now. He could go to the store. He could see a movie. He could just WALK AROUND. And nobody would give a second thought about it! For the briefest of moments, he felt… powerful. He could do anything he wanted-

A nearby screech of tires nearly made him jump back and away from the street as the ugly pink sedan that Charlie instantly recognized as Homer’s came to a stop in front of him. The man himself leaned out from the driver’s seat, grinning widely at Charlie as he called out. 

“Hey NURSE! Nice rabbit costume!” Homer yelled. It was clear he’d already had a drink or two, but so had the other six men that were crammed both inside and on the roof of the car. The bar must have been closed, as Charlie noted that the regulars were accompanying Homer on his Halloween joy ride. Lenny, Carl, and Moe sat on the car’s roof, hastily hanging on - presumably, for dear life whenever Homer started driving again - while Barney, Sam, and Larry were crammed inside. Each of them had their own drink in hand and Charlie could hear the clatter of more cans along the car’s floor. They had gotten an early start on the drinking, apparently. 

“Hey Charlie! We’re drivin’ down to Flanders’ to egg his house and knock over his mailbox,” Moe called down to the hybrid. 

“Remind me why we’re doin’ that?” Carl asked, shaking the can in its hand to check its content level. He would need another one soon.

“Be-CAUSE, it’s FLANDERS,” Homer grunted from the front seat. “What more reason do you need???”

“Can’t argue with that!” Lenny had no objections, apparently. And neither did anyone else. Least of all, Charlie.

“Hell yes, I do. Open one of those things for me, will you?” Charlie said with delight as he hopped over, pleased that none of the men seemed to give two shits as to what he looked like as he clambered up and onto the roof of the sedan. In fact, he wasn’t the only one in the festive mood. Homer had made an attempt at being some kind of vampire, but had apparently given up halfway, tying a black shirt around his neck as a cape and smearing what looked like red jelly around his mouth. Lenny and Carl had swapped outfits, Moe would later on describe his usual attire as being ‘the scariest thing you could see in 2020’, and Barney had simply taken a shower and put on a different shirt. A frightening prospect. Larry did not seem to get the costume memo and Sam had mostly his usual attire, except his overshirt shirt was a red checkered plaid pattern instead in a relatively lazy impromptu lumberjack look. 

Charlie felt as though he fit right in, tipping back his head as he downed his first beer and digging his claws into the roof of the car as Homer drove off towards Ned’s. 

As the night went on and Homer’s merry gang of troublemakers stirred up more than enough chaos to fill several Halloween nights with, Charlie found himself laughing, yelling, and being raucous right along with them. There was no shortage of eggs thrown, toilet paper left in the branches of overhanging trees, nor did he turn down the candy they’d nabbed from some of the neighborhood bullies. Charlie considered it teaching them a lesson. They’d live. And while he didn’t normally imagine that he’d pal around with Moe’s regulars to this extent, he had a hard time convincing himself that he wasn’t having more fun than he’d had in ages. At one point, he could have sworn that they passed both the reverend and his wife. What he wouldn’t give to see if Tim had noticed that he was not interested in coming home on time that night...

By the time they’d finished their route around Springfield - and Homer was too drunk to keep driving and not smash into something along the way - the men abandoned the pink carriage in favor of staggering into the nearest park gazebo to lounge around, finish as many of their remaining cans of beer as they could, and generally be a public nuisance. Luckily, they weren’t the only ones out and about, which meant that Chief Wiggum was not likely to break up their after party. Which was just as well. Charlie didn’t need any reason for him to have to return to Lovejoy’s tonight. Nah. He was having way too much fun, even in the sleepy drunken haze that threatened to overtake him as the clock neared midnight. 

“I didn’t expect you to actually loosen up like that.” 

Charlie glanced up from his tenth - or eleventh? - beer, locking eyes with Sam who had staggered over to sit on the steps of the gazebo next to Charlie. Inhibitions gone, Charlie didn’t mind the company. Lenny and Carl were not far away, but seemed to be discussing whether or not a uranium rod would float if placed delicately in a vat of beer. Homer had passed out about ten minutes prior, and Moe, Barney, and Larry were arguing over who had rights to the last few beers in the cooler. 

“I’d forgotten about Halloween,” Charlie replied with a little smile. “The one night where I don’t have to dress up like some kinda… freak.” He sipped at his beer, not bothered by the terminology at the moment. Might be if he were at all sober. But with his head floating pleasantly, he didn’t mind being a little brazen and honest.

“I bet if you just decided t’say screw it one day, nobody would even notice,” Sam continued, pointing at Charlie with the hand that still held his own beer which was nearing empty. 

“Uh-huh. Then I get thrown into the zoo with the crocodiles and you gotta visit me and bring me booze before I go fuckin’ crazy, right?” Charlie shook his head, but he was amused at the thought. 

“I got plenty to spare.” Sam smirked, shaking his can a little and listening to the liquid slosh back and forth. 

“Aw. You’re sweet.” Charlie brought a hand up to his chest in a fake swoon. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.”

Sam laughed, a low, somewhat gravely sound that made Charlie’s ears twitch with interest. They were one step ahead of his brain which was only just registering that… they might have been flirting. And, now that he recalled… it probably wasn’t the first time. The hybrid had been coming to Moe’s on several nights of the week now, staying out late and risking the reverend’s ire while keeping company with the regulars. And more often than not, Sam was included. While he was moderately amused by Homer, Lenny, and Carl’s general conversations that they had, the three jokers hardly caught his attention. Larry still didn’t speak much, and he wasn’t even going to pretend that Barney was ever good for more than a belch or two before he was sufficiently out for the count. 

But on more than one occasion, Charlie lingered behind with Sam. Sometimes not saying much. Just staring absently at the television above the bar. Maybe swapping stories here and there about Sam’s time on the road or Charlie’s general complaints about both Skinner and Chalmers or the Wiggum boy’s predisposition to sticking sharp objects where he shouldn’t. 

On any other night, Charlie might not have given it much thought. It was dangerous to get too wrapped up in a person. Like he had with Lovejoy. Like he’d stumbled into with Chalmers. Neither of which seemed to give him the feedback he was looking for. And on any other night, that fear might have kept him from going down that same path. But as he listened to Sam’s laugh which made his own mouth tilt upwards into a smile… Well… he couldn’t help it. They were already sitting so close and… Charlie’s head was already spinning and he swore he probably smelled like beer, cigarettes, and maybe eggs, but…

The liquid courage was not one to be ignored. He held his breath and leaned forward, catching Sam’s lips with his own in a soft, but purposeful kiss. He willed himself to not pay attention to anything - except maybe the faint sound of blaring music somewhere off in the distance - hoping against hope that he was not going to be pushed away. 

And he wasn’t.

But he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing either. 

He broke the kiss after a moment or two, pulling back as his ears pinned themselves against his hair and he let out a little nervous laugh. Sam’s expression was unreadable. Clearly, he’d been caught off guard, staring at Charlie in surprise and… the hybrid didn’t know what else. But even in his drunken state, his heart pounded with fear and he glanced away.

“Sorry. Uh. Forget that happened. I have had… woof. One too many… hah…” 

His feet wanted him to run, but with so much alcohol in his system, he doubted he would get very far before tripping over his own tail. So there he sat, pointedly looking away and off into the distance, rubbing at his face in exasperation at his own stupid, desperate antics. His chest felt like it was about to burst with anxiety and embarrassment. Christ. He could only hope that Sam was drunk enough to write it off as a figment of his imagination in the morning when they both woke up in their respective beds and pretended that nothing ever happened.

“WELL! I should… go,” Charlie began, finishing off his beer and crushing the can in his claws before tossing it aside. About to get to his feet when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Freezing, he felt the color drain from his face. Oh no. This was the part, wasn’t it. Where his other secret was going to be touted in front of the other men like some kind of hard-won prize. Where he realized that Sam was just another moron in Springfield deadset on making him feel like an absolute freak. Where he was reminded that his decision-making was so incredibly poor that only he could have made the wrong choice three times in a row.

Anger bubbled up somewhere in the back of his throat, but before he could bristle and snap in defense, he was spun back to face Sam, caught by surprise as the man’s mouth met his own once again, this time of his own volition. Confusion replaced the anger that threatened to rise, a little sound of alarm only just being squelched by his steady realization that… He had been wrong.

They were both drunk, but Charlie shoved the thought to the side as he closed his eyes, suddenly drifting along a sea of contentment as he allowed himself to be pulled into that second kiss. He forgot that Lenny and Carl were sitting just on the other side of the gazebo. He forgot that Moe and the others were not far either. He forgot that he was kissing another man. He forgot… everything. Everything but the feeling of Sam’s lips on his own. They were warm and tasted like Duff, but so did his own. Charlie almost laughed as their glasses clacked gently against each other, but he didn’t care about that either. It was Halloween night and he felt like a giddy teenager, his claws brushing along the steps of the gazebo until they found Sam’s fingers, intertwining their pinkies together as they’d done to seal their promise to not dampen Moe’s spirits. 

Sam didn’t seem to mind, too wrapped up in the kiss just the same. Until they parted and Charlie let himself breath. He was red in the face, he was sure. But he would try to play it off like it was just the beer. Yeah. That’s all it was.

“...You don’t gotta go if you don’t want to,” Sam finally said, his own beer all but forgotten to the side. He was a bit flushed himself, but he seemed to manage it a lot better than Charlie did.

“...You don’t think we’ve gotten up to enough troublemaking tonight, huh?” The hybrid replied in kind, unable to disguise the little grin on his face. 

“Nah. It ain’t even that late yet.”

Sam got to his feet, offering his hand to pull Charlie up along with him. His tail helped him maintain his balance, even as the world tilted and shifted beneath his feet. Wow. He really was drunk. Or… maybe it had just been the kiss. Either way, he was feeling ridiculously topsy turvy just then. And the welcoming smile on Sam’s face certainly didn’t help. Wow. 

Maybe he hadn’t really been fake swooning after all.

“Lead the way,” Charlie prompted, keep himself at the other man’s side with a delighted little rumble of a purr that he did his best to keep to himself. It was difficult. And as they drifted away from the park and back into the street, he absently wished that Halloween was not a once-a-year deal.

When they’d left, Lenny and Carl found themselves staring after the two, still nursing their own beers and watching in a bit of a drunken stupor.

“Did we really just see that?” Carl asked, glancing up at his companion, baffled.

“I think so. Why don’t you ever do that with me?” Lenny replied as he sat atop the railing of the gazebo, his words slurred in his mild outrage.

“Aw shut up,” Carl said, focusing back on his beer. 

He made a mental note to shove Lenny off of the railing before the night was over with.

[champiowned]

[[stats]]

my leon is canon-divergent and has established relationships with a few other muses from the same universe. [no, i don’t play exclusives.] main differences between him and canon include: he was endorsed by kabu, met rose after he became champion, never took the position of league chairman, and has since sold the battle tower.

stats:

full name: leon tarak malik [middle name is not public knowledge] official title: Himbo Twunk Supreme duplicates nickname: pecha parents: tarak [father, deceased] and laleh [mum... she’s doing her best] race: pakistani, persian gender: cis male orientation: openly gay. queer kids need good role models. age: 24 birthday | sign: dec 4 | sagittarius height: 6’ weight: ~200lbs / ~90kg build: dorito with tiddy the man works out and has good muscle mass but he’s not exactly a bodybuilder. these guns are made for hugging. voice claim: here nature | characteristic: naive | likes to fight

personality n behavior stuff:

- full of himself, but not in an “i’m better than you” way. unless you’re raihan

- ALTERNATIVELY: he does experience self doubt, pretty frequently these days, he just tends not to show it.

- hyperaware of his public image. always well behaved, positive, and poised in the public eye.

- epitome of “how do i adult.” growing up a child celebrity, pretty much everything was done for him and his life was controlled by the league and later, rose.

--- he knows how to behave in public and on TV, how to entertain crowds, etc, but has almost no interpersonal social skills and knows next to nothing about how to take care of himself. can't cook. doesn't know how to file taxes or fucking dress himself. etc etc

- he knows his weaknesses. and he’s kind of jealous of people who have their shit together.

- still largely a kid at heart. he’s optimistic to the point of being rather gullible.

--- he genuinely believes that people have good intentions and that anyone can become strong if they try. 

--- he’s also easily swayed, especially if someone is trying to convince him of the "right" thing to do. he’s a people pleaser with a heart of gold, so he’ll do the thing that sounds the most helpful!

- he’s taking his loss a lot harder than he lets on. but still acknowledges that it was one of the best things to ever happen to him. feelings are hard, man.

- in person, privately [as opposed to public appearances] he’s a little on the quiet side. comes across as an idiot often but really is just stuck in his head a lot.

--- he’s also the definition of a clown. acts dumber than he really is just to make people laugh. arceus, does he love to make people happy.

health:

- physically fit. physically fit. physically physically ph --

--- he has a weakened immune system. doesn’t really know it yet.

--- his body also heals at about half the pace it should, be it from injury, working out, etc... he has started noticing this but doesn’t understand why it’s happening.

--- he’s physically sensitive to poison types. he gets weak and sickly the longer he spends around them -- which he doesn’t usually, because he’s developing a phobia of them and tends to avoid them.

- diagnosed adhd

--- blame his lack of directional awareness on that shiny thing over there

--- ... and on his inability to tell left from right:

- diagnosed dyslexia

--- the advent of rotom phones was a godsend. speech to text is his best friend. so are audiobooks.

--- but he would rather die than read, write, or do physical paperwork.

- diagnosed depression

--- has tried to seek counseling at the request of his loved ones. tried and couldn’t go in galar, but he’s been talking to someone on call from another region.

- still mentally working out that he was manipulated by rose. doesn’t know how to feel about it. he has a lot of thoughts.

- has caffeine sensitivity. the best he can do is 1 cup of black tea a day, which is tragic, really.

important history bits:

age 7: hop was born! he’s baby!!!!!

10: gym challenge!! champion time, babey!!!!

--- he was endorsed by kabu and u can pry that out of my cold dead hands

--- also peony was the champion he dethroned

11-12: trained under mustard.

14: father died in an accident. 

--- mother fell into a deep depression. hop came to live with leon in wyndon for a few months and their (paternal) grandparents moved into postwick.

16: came out as gay in a live interview. fired his manager for being pissed about it. hasn’t had one since.

17: a certain macro cosmos president started sponsoring him.

19: said president became chairman of the league.

20: rose brought him into the energy crisis plan. 

--- with limited knowledge, leon started helping him gather wishing stars for the sake of clean energy.

22: game events!

23: post game.

current: raihan is the new champion after the protag forfeited. also leon is gay married to raihan and claude von riegan. no i do not accept criticism.

misc:

- he no likey poison types. poison Bad. no reason in particular! it’s fine!! hahahahaha!!!!

- despite being so confident, he’s easily flustered around crushes. lastbraincell.exe has stopped working

- he and sonia kissed once. and that was how they learned leon didn’t like kissing girls and sonia didn’t like kissing boys.

- had a postwick accent as a kid. spent so long in wyndon he adopted that accent. but some old dialect pokes through every so often.

- his verse’s champion is named wynne! they’re nonbinary and he loves and supports them very much!

- he’s big on charity, and not in a fake way. looking at rose. he donates money directly to those in need and regularly volunteers at or hosts things like food drives, pokemon foster care, children’s hospital visits, etc etc. he’ll buy groceries for everyone else at the store, tip 300% of his dinner bill, and help you move that couch.

- if you don’t drink your respect hop juice he will snap you over his knee.

[afraidof-thedark]

When my older sister turned 19, my parents started looking at me with the deepest pity and grief I have ever seen; like I was going to crumble and disappear at any moment.

I was 16 and listening to music in my bedroom when my mother came to me with a beautiful portrait in her hands. It was of my great-grandmother Eleanor.

“Pat, you know how Eleanor used to say that when she was 18, a she-devil offered her some kind of paradise if she agreed to die immediately, right?”

It was a weird question; whenever my mother had a little more to drink, she’d retell this tale over and over. She came from a long line of spiritual but pragmatic women, women who fought to study and to work in male-dominated fields. Women who also found a good man to marry, women who had everything.

But then tragedy struck in their lives and they would lose a daughter or a niece. Always.

“Yes, mom," I replied, and we recited together: “And she said fuck off, I have 7 siblings to help raising."

And Eleanor did. She worked her ass off to send her younger brothers and sisters to good schools, became a college teacher herself, and kept teaching every new generation of women to be strong and stand up for themselves.

My mother always loved her to bits, and did her best to raise her kids the way her grandmother had taught. Eleanor peacefully died of old age when I was a baby, and overall lived a great, accomplished, loving life.

But grief knocked on her door periodically, as she had to bury a daughter and a granddaughter, both at age 18. My aunt Cecelia died years before I was born, and that took a huge toll on my mother and on my other aunt, Christa.

Eleanor didn’t believe it was a tragic coincidence. No.

She thinks that the same she-devil who invited her to go live in a better place came to claim her descendants.

After Cecelia, there were no deaths.

My sister and my cousins have all crossed the line to 19, and none of them reported anything weird happening to them.

I’m the only female in my family who is still 18.

Despite the fact that I always admired Eleanor, I confess that I thought that she was being superstitious, or even mocking us—she was known for her savage sense of humor. So this conversation I had with my mother had been completely brushed from my mind.

Then today a gorgeous, magnificent woman approached me.

I am a part-timer at a frozen yogurt joint. As you might expect, the small store was empty. The little bell on the door rang, and I raised my eyes to meet a stunning, elegant woman who seemed to be on her early 30s.

She was wearing a simple and unassuming dress, but the fit was flattering. It was impossible to take your eyes off of her.

“Hello, Patricia." Her voice was velvety and melodious. “I see Eleanor’s granddaughter told you about me."

I forgot how to breathe for a while. She was just… God, I had considered myself straight up to this point, but then I had found a woman that I both wanted to be like and have for myself.

“Come on, get yourself some fro-yo on me. Mine will be salted caramel and strawberry, if you please."

I mechanically filled two little cups as she graciously sat.

I stared at her intently.

“When you see Christa, tell her to see a doctor about that persistent headache. Unpleasant surprise on the way,” she said very casually. “So tell me about you, Pat."

“D-don’t you know all about me already?” I asked. She smiled kindly, but the warmth never reached her violet eyes; it wasn’t like they were cold, but they were neutral. Neutral and incredibly sharp.

“I know everything there is to know about everyone on your little planet, darling. But I’d still like to hear your version."

“I’m not actually interesting, you know?” I sighed. “I am only okay at everything. My sister is brilliant and she’s pretty too, while I’m too average and not even sure what I want to major in."

She smiled so brightly I thought I was gonna go blind.

“Don’t you want to be part of something bigger and easier?” she asked. “I’ll offer you a great deal, the same one I offered your ancestor Eleanor, her daughter Bettina, and your aunt Cecelia. You know the results."

“I’m listening," I said. I don’t know the circumstances of their deaths, but I know that both Bettina and Cecelia took the offer.

“Well, take a look around the world you live in. You’re young, but old enough to know. Do you feel safe walking the streets? Isn’t this world rotten? Sure, you can say there are good people; people that mind their own business, at least. But the rotten apples always spoil the whole barrel. And lately you mortals have seen that happening a lot of people you used to deem good, huh?”

“I don’t… feel safe. Two of my friends have been assaulted. I admit sometimes I’m scared to leave my bed," I replied. “Still, I’d feel so bad about how my mother would miss me."

She smiled.

“You’re a good girl, Patricia. I’m Lilith, by the way," she grabbed my hands. “Let me tell you something, although I’m sure you already know this in your heart. All the women in your family are fit for this deal, but I have to choose only one. I chose you because you won’t be missed as much." I recoiled, feeling hurt, but I knew that Lilith wasn’t lying. There was a spark of compassion in her eyes too. “It’s not that you’re not loved, it’s just that your cousins and your sister…”

“Are so much better than me in every sense. I know. I panic easily, I don’t trust my own decisions, and I don’t have any special talent. Sometimes my life feels like such a waste."

“It’s not, dear. It’s not. Because you were born for something greater. Greater than these girls you deem better than yourself. They are fit for this world. You are fit for the Utopia."

“What’s the Utopia?”

“It’s everything there is out there, the only eternal life in the universe, offered to a select few. All the great people on Earth are nothing but a heartbeat. They will fade to nothing, like all the unassuming lives."

“So you mean there’s no heaven and hell? And what about God?”

“Oh, God exists. God created great things. Imperfect, inferior beings like you humans are just the collateral damage of his masterpieces; the residuum of the creation. He never even turned His face to you, or batted an eyelash when we told him our plan. Lucifer and I see potential in you. Well, some of you. Most are truly garbage”.

I was utterly amazed. “Why do you only take young women?”

She smiled again.

“That’s a great question. Lucifer likes to collect men in their 40s, so he can laugh at their moral dilemmas. How will my family live without me, the great provider?? What if Karen marries another man and Cody turns gay because he didn’t have a masculine figure?” She did a great impersonation of a generic middle-aged man. “But I take my girls while they are still beautiful and not completely tired of how unfair this world is to them. I don’t want the morons in your society to make you forget what Eleanor taught you. She knew there would be only nothingness out there after she died, but she opted to stay and take care of her loved ones. It was a bold, admirable choice, and I decided to reward her for it. She was the only one I ever approached to refuse."

“So you can’t both live a great life here and go to this place you call Utopia?” I asked.

“Oh, one usually can’t have it all, no. But I picked two or three of those. Like Marilyn and Cleo. They were almost 40 but still young at heart and completely unfazed by how the world tried to break them. You have to admire that."

“How is that Utopia? Will I like it?”

Lilith snapped her fingers. The walls and furniture around us, and even the street across the door started to fold and fold and fold, like the reality was only a 3D draft, until they became minuscule pieces of cardboard, and then they fell into the infinite under us.

We were now surrounded by a stunning, futuristic place. There was no sense of feeling cold or hungry, we could move by floating around as we pleased, and there were amazing buildings everywhere, decorated with statues of pure white marble and paintings so beautiful I wanted to cry.

I could see colors I never imagined possible, and the sky was always a warm shade of blue, but dotted with stars, and an immense full moon.

Everything was shiny, symmetrical and felt right; peaceful, but far from boring. A perfect, ordered chaos.

“This place is constantly expanding, so you’ll always find new things to do. You’ll never live another tedious day."

She snapped her fingers again, and everything unfolded and rose back into place.

“And if I accept your offer, which I will… can I choose the way I die and do something first?”

“Oh, you have a few days to deal with all your stuff. I’m not a monster, you know?” the she-devil smiled again.

“Great!” I said. “There’s only one thing I need to do before I go with you. I want to kill the man who raped by best friend."

Lilith agreed to allow me to do it, and we talked some more before she left.

And that’s all I can remember clearly. The rest of the day was a blur; knowing that I would die, I wanted to quit my dead-end job immediately, but I had no one to quit to, and I couldn’t leave the store unattended. So I stayed, surrounded by weird ice cream, thinking about what awaited for me.

The she-devil told me that I couldn’t tell anyone I was about to die, but I was allowed to discreetly say my goodbyes. My family was really nice and had taught me a lot, and I had valuable friends, but none of that was reason enough to refuse an eternal life of happiness where I could even be friends with Cleopatra and Marilyn Monroe.

I spent some quality time with my loved ones, then two days later, I took my mother’s handgun and headed to see the one who hurt and destroyed my beloved friend, both physically and mentally.

I won’t describe the details of the torture I put him through. I’ll just say that I only stopped when it seemed to me that he went through at least ten times what he made her endure.

And then I killed him.

“Oh, shit," was my only reaction as I realized that punishing this disgusting man felt even better and even more right than living in a perfect Utopia.

It feels like I finally found my purpose. If this world is all that there is, the only thing we can do is enjoy it.

And we’ll only be able to enjoy it if we cleanse it.

I decided to take this mission upon myself.

But there’s only a problem: I already agreed with dying tomorrow.

I signed the contract and now I'm terrified of what Lilith will do to me when I say I changed my mind.

-u/poloniumpoisoning

[celebsbooks]

English on-screen character Charlie Hunnam is best known for playing Jackson 'Jax' Teller in FX's 'Children of Anarchy.' He has additionally featured in the movies 'The Lost City of Z' and 'King Arthur: Legend of the Sword.'

Who Is Charlie Hunnam? 

Born in 1980, Charlie Hunnam has been acting since he was 17. His first enormous job was in Russell T. Davies' British arrangement Queer as Folk before moving to the U.S. and Furthermore, showing up in movies, for example, Nicholas Nickleby (2002), Cold Mountain (2003) and Children of Men (2006). Hunnam's breakout job came in 2008 when he marked on to play Jax Teller on FX's Crime show Sons of Anarchy, which he featured in through 2014. From that point forward Hunnam has made a convention of encapsulating hyper-manly jobs, including the science fiction flick Pacific Rim (2013), the experience dramatization The Lost City of Z (2016) and the epic dream King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017). Notwithstanding acting, Hunnam is a screenwriter. 

Charlie Hunnam goes to the 'Papillon' debut amid the 2017 Toronto International Film Festival at Princess of Wales Theater on September 7, 2017, in Toronto, Canada. 

Personal Life 

After a short romance, Hunnam wedded entertainer Katharine Towne in 1999 yet the couple threw in the towel three years after the fact. 

Since 2005, he's been involved with craftsman Morgana McNelis. 

Early Life 

Charles Matthew Hunnam was conceived on April 10, 1980, in Newcastle, Tyne and Wear, England. His dad, William, worked in the piece metal industry and passed on in 2013, while his mom Jane, an entrepreneur, raised the entertainer and his more seasoned sibling after the couple separated from when Hunnam was a baby. 

Motion pictures and TV Shows 

'Eccentric as Folk' 

Hunnam's first major onscreen job was on Russell T. Davies' British gay arrangement Queer as Folk. On the show he played 15-year-old Nathan Maloney, a defiant school kid who's new to the gay scene, however, is loaded with certainty. 

Swinging to film, Hunnam showed up inverse Katie Holmes in the panned suspenseful thrill ride Abandon (2002) however would be wise to karma with the Charles Dickens-propelled dramatization Nicholas Nickleby (2002), in which he assumed the title job, just as the Civil War film Cold Mountain (2003). In the last mentioned, he played the crazy lieutenant Bosie, who duels with the hero Inman (Jude Law). 

The youthful entertainer at that point swung to showing up in the romantic tale Whatever Happened to Harold Smith? (1999) preceding advancing over the lake to America, where he got a repetitive job in WB's Young Americans. He additionally had a snappy spell on Fox's Judd Apatow-helmed sitcom Undeclared, yet the acclaimed show was dropped after one season. 

'Cold Mountain,' 'Offspring of Men' 

Hunnam's pizazz for delineating vexed characters proceeded after Cold Mountain, his subsequent meet-ups being a Cockney-highlighted lawbreaker in Pete Dunham's non-mainstream football show Green Street (2005) and a degenerate pack part in the tragic spine chiller Children of Men (2006). 

'Children of Anarchy' 

"It was quite enthusiastic for me, living and adoring that person for a long time, to need to at last put him to bed," he revealed to Glamor UK. "I wound up returning to set a ton. I realized the security watches and for a few days stated, 'Gracious, I overlooked something', so they'd let me onto the set, and I'd simply stroll around during the evening since I needed to be in that condition and experience an individual procedure of bidding a fond farewell. Following several evenings I didn't generally require the vindication to get in, and after that sooner or later I just stated, 'alright, enough, this is finished.  (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

As he kept on featuring in greater undertakings, his rounds in Hollywood satisfied. In 2008 Hunnam was thrown in a standout amongst his most important jobs as group pioneer Jackson "Jax" Teller in the FX wrongdoing show Sons of Anarchy, a tale around a fugitive bike club set in an anecdotal town in California. The arrangement wound up one of the most astounding appraised appears for the system, which ran its course through 2014. All things considered, Hunnam, in fact, experienced serious difficulties bidding a fond farewell to the show and his character. 

While on Anarchy, Hunnam likewise featured as the lead job in Guillermo del Toro's blockbuster Pacific Rim (2013), a science fiction show about people working goliath humanoids to fight ocean beasts from another measurement. The on-screen character would collaborate with del Toro again for the gothic blood and gore movie Crimson Peak (2015), which would locate a strong gathering of people and for the most part fared well with pundits. 

'Fifty Shades of Gray' 

In spite of his troublesome experience turning down Fifty Shades of Gray, Hunnam has discovered another chance to work with the movie's executive Sam Taylor-Johnson: The two are collaborating for the up and coming motion picture A Million Little Pieces, an adjustment of the dubious 2003 novel composed by James Frey. 

In the middle of these movies, it was reported that Hunnam was set to star as Christian Gray in the film rendition of E.L. James' sensual novel Fifty Shades of Gray. Be that as it may, because of numerous booking clashes, Hunnam reluctantly bowed out and later called the trial "the most noticeably terrible expert experience of my life." 

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); "I called [director Sam Taylor-Johnson], and we both wept hysterically on the telephone for 20 minutes," he revealed to V Man magazine in 2015. "I expected to reveal to her this was not getting down to business… There was a great deal of individual stuff going on in my life that left me on the genuine passionate insecure ground and rationally powerless. I just got myself so f– ruler overpowered and I was kind of having alarm assaults about the entire thing." 

In any case, Hunnam ricocheted back playing British geographer Percy Fawcett in the anecdotal show The Lost City of Z (2016). He additionally worked together with Guy Ritchie on the film King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017), despite the fact that commentators by and large panned the task. In any case, Hunnam had much better gathering playing French sentenced killer Henri Charrière in the praised Papillon (2017), which co-featured Rami Malek. 

Screenwriter 

After secondary school, Hunnam registered to the University of Cumbria, where he graduated with a film degree.

Outside of acting, Hunnam is a screenwriter. Before he earned the lead job on Sons of Anarchy, he sold a screenplay about Vlad the Impaler to a noteworthy film circulation organization. He is additionally creating movies on American medication ruler Edgar Valdez Villareal and vagabond culture in British society.  (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Disclaimer: This website is aimed to give the viewers know about their favorite celebrities, their secrets and various other unknown things about them. The content provided here on http://bit.ly/2D2Q971 is based upon the various studies from the web, books, newspaper and various other resources. Neither CELEBS BOOKS nor any person/organization acting on its behalf is liable to accept any legal liability/responsibility for any error/mislead in this information or any information available on the website. This website in no way accepts the responsibility for any loss, injury, damage, discomfort or inconvenience caused as a result of reliance on any information provided on this website.

[historic-homosexual]

Pls pls pls do all the oc questions!!

jokes on you I was already doing that and planned on just putting it out there but now I can use this as an excuse,,hah someone wants to know thisI’m sorry for how long some parts got, I noticed how much I wrote on Célestin and tried to keep it down from then but that didn’t completely work,,,And actually I dare/tag you to do these too. I know that ain’t normal proceedure w ask memes but I do a thing called what I want

1. Your first OC ever?

I think my first oc was your typical mary sue, named Angel, whom I used for basically every fandom I got in then. I’ve since reworked her because I couldn’t leave her the mess she was lmao

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

Not really, tho I have to admit I have some that I’m especially fond of, but that’s still like half of my ocs

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

Not a full character but a friend of mine made the design for Charlie years ago

4. A character you rarely talk about?Sadly that’d also be a couple of em, for example Eleonore or Otávio or my monster ocs

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

That’s a difficult one…Brist is pretty worked out and good so maybe him, or Eligos bc I’m proud of their design

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

I’d never noticed it before this but Seth and Elijah oh geez

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?I have a bunch of ocs that are part of my own work, which I refer to as ‘Golden Empire’

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!

I privately rp w @spokoystviye, namely our ocs Regulus and Adelais. We used to do Gregory and Jason too but ever since we worked on the time it plays in that’s stopped lmao.

So Regulus it is: Regulus Whitlock, living in France during the French Revolution. He’s originally from England, where he grew up the son of a Blacksmith. Regulus is exceptionally tall for the time he lived in, very soft hearted and believes in “dressing like a gentleman,behave like a bastard”. Most part of his life he works as a Blacksmith from his shop, that he took over from his father after the man died. Regulus took on a ‘side job’ as a hunter, smart, a good shot and with a great need to help people. But he’s of too good nature, ending up taking in a Vampire of all things, despite better judgement, not able to leave the woman to her death.

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?

I don’t think I could give an oc to a random person, that is one that I’ve worked w a lot. Just making a design and such for the purpose of giving it away in the first place would be fine

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

Gerwyn is relatively complicated to draw solely because his base design is full body armor lmao. Besides him maybe Susanna and Nathanael since their design is hard to make it look accurate especially without colouring it

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

Seth, definitely, he’s the most positive and sweet of all my Ocs

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot

Both @bruhchantite and @spokoystviye have ocs I love, like Bruhs Arcana Oc Nien, whom I like a lot, and Leander has Adelais who’s a sweet baby deserving protection [also Adelean is hot shit]

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs? There are quite a few I’d say lmao

But most of them I’d consider more violent than troublemaker, so Jonathan probably (whos still violent but who was a troublemaker even before that)

14. Tragic Backstory

Gregory and Annora have a tragic backstory as well but I’m gonna go w Célestin rnTw: Rape, Abuse, Homophobia

Célestin Villeneuve grew up in France to very religious parents with strict views.  Célestins mother had unhappily carried out Célestin, having gotten pregnant at a very young age. Both her and her husband being strong believers, they considered abortion a sin and kept the child. Her own parents threated it like a shameful secret, making their daughter and her boyfriend marry, despite them being 16 at the time. They moved to the next town, where they were unknown and had everyone belive that they were both adults, their child concieved properly, after marriage and willingly.

Not having finished their education properly, Célestins father lied in order to get a job, his wife mroe than willing to keep up his tales, in fear of being ridiculed by the community. Appearance and what others thought of them became the most important thing to Célestins mother early on, drilled into her by her own parents.Célestins father craved to be popular and keep his image in the town.

They were active in church and his father insisted on going to every sunday mass, prayers before lunch and his child confessing his sins to him.Punishment often consisted of simple bread and cheese and water for meals, a swat ont he back of his head if it was particularly bad in his parents eyes.

Célestin had always been a perfect child, smart and following his parents wishes, sitting in church, firm in prayer.He considered his parents treatment right, and, as he kept from sin, was confident it would never get any worse.However, he was gravely mistaken.As he got older, Célestins parents would get worse in their punishment, afraid their child would sully their image, as they themselves had, with the early pregnancy.

Things reached a peak when Célestin discovered he was gay. Knowing it to be a sin, he told his mother, asking her for help to free him of this condition, telling her he’d accept the punishiment if it’d only make him right in God’s eyes again.

His mother was shocked, less so because of her sons sexuality, but more so because she had seen the violence raging in her husband and was well aware that he would no longer keep the punishment to a few slaps.Talking to her husband that night, when Célestin was asleep, she attempted to sway her husband, who was as she had expected, beyong angered.

He however knew of her fear for being casdt out of the community and explained that not punishing and correcting such behaviour would result in Célestin believing it was normal and flaunting it around for everyone to see. Riddled by fear, Célestins mother accepted her husbands preposition as what would happen to her son.

While Célestin had expected punishment, nothing would have prepared him for what would come for him as his father would drag him out to the field each day anew, whipping him until his back was bleeding. His wife was fobidden to tend to her sons wounds and was often standing by staring into nothing while her son begged for forgiveness.

Célestin learned how to poorly tend to his own injuries, some getting infected at the lack of proper treatment. To his own shock no beating did help to cure him as he had desperately hoped to happen to stop the violent treatment. Unsure where to turn, and why God would have him suffer like this, despite all attempts and prayer, Célestin went to the church to confess and ask a pastor for help.The man was shocked and appalled at what he heard and even more so at the fact that Célestin was under the impression that this was right.

For the first time Célestin was told that he was treated terribly, and that he had done nothing to deserve this. He went away with odd feelings in his mind and the first seeds of doubt. Attempting to help, the pastor went to talk to Célestins parents a few days later, when Célestin himself was in school, trying to sway them in their ways, telling them that they surely had to know that he had to report such behaviour.

When Célestin returned from school, he found his mother crying adn his father angrier than hed ever been. They’d not taken the pastors warning to take their son away to their heart, seeing their fault in their actions but instead saw nothing but the ridicule they were about to face, as well as the authorities coming up. Célestins father feared to loose his job, and face, more than he feared for his sons life. He beat Célestin again before dragging him into his parents room, where a middle aged woman was waiting that was known throught the town for offering any kind of intercourse for the right money.

Saying that there was only one way to truly fix him, Célestins father forced his son to have sex with the prostitute, watching with a belt in hand to make sure the intercourse was actually carried out. During it he would often ask his son if he was still filthy, wanting to do this with ofther men and woulod generally insult and hummiliate him. Whenever his son would answer with crying or begging his father to stop this, he would simply pay the woman for yet another round.

When it was finally over, Célestin was left laying in his parents bed, listening as his parents were having dinner in the kitchen.Filled with shame he declined everything when the authorities came knocking at their door the next day, nodding of his fathers claim that he had made it all up.

The pastor attempted to speak to Célestin but when he asked to see the boy the evening, he and Célestins parents found his room empty.Célestin had ran away.

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?

Gosh I love it I wish I could do it more. I feel if u actually have some else to chat ocs with it leads to ur oc getting more and more fleshed out

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

I think Helva would take the cake on that one

17. Any OC OTPs?

Regulus/Adelais, Caspian/Nadia, Hunter/Piper and Araan/Dorian,,,,If I can be honest, I hardly have the amount of Oc ships as I would lmao,,,my ocs do function on their own but there are so I’d just love to ship lmao

18. Any OC crackships?

Not really any, I shortly thought about just taking a random oc from u/Leander and pairing them randomly w one of mine for the laughs of it.But then I felt it would maybe be inapropriate to do that lmaoo

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

While all my Ocs mean a lot to me I chose Brist for this because he’d the first Oc I made for a game, fallout new vegas, which I love a lot. He pretty much develpoed all by himself while I was playing, and is really fleshed out now. I’m super fond of him somehow.Here are a couple of things about him:

Brist was born 2225, the son of  caravaneers, somewhere on their travels and therefore does not know where exactly he was born. Deciding that raising a child at such young age while traveling would not work well, they settled near the ruins of Ashton and Hopeville, where a small community was build.Brist spend his childhood in the Divide and soon began traveling alongside his father, keeping the community flourishing as the only connection between it and the rest of the land. When the Divide and the road paved by Brist came to attention of the NCR, they cooperated to protect the supply line and keep it open for other traders. With that done and his home taken care of, Brist left the Divide to travel further, exploring New California as a drifter.  

Brist came to enjoy the life of a Drifter, occasionally taking small jobs and living from day to day up until returning to the divide a last time, making a delivery that would cause his home to be destructed.Not knowing of what had happened, Brist returned into the Mojave desert, further traveling New California before joining the Mojave Express.2281 he was hired to deliver another important package, once more without knowledge of what it would cause, and was shot in the head by Benny in Goodsprings.

He doesn’t sleep too much, and he’s not at all picky about where. He prefers having some sort of mattress but if he’s tired and there’s none he’ll sleep on the floor.

Brist is an Courier and Explorer at heart, determined to finish his jobs, power through them. Even if that might result in physical pain or poisoning. Brist has the constant need to be on his feet all the time, traveling, looking around or doing things for people and he often does not sleep, eat, shower or talk during these travels. Sometimes he’s so focused on the road ahead that he misses the explosive traps right in front of him.

He notices that he is doing this, and he can sometimes be heard muttering to himself how he’ll see a doctor in the next town and so on, but those good intentions always get lost along the way. Brist hates missing traps and such, but he doesn’t quite see that those thigns could easily be avoided if he’d be more careful.

He is suffering from Radiation Poisoning, he could easily be treated for it at the early stages but he literally does not care enough to see a doctor or get some RadAway. He keeps delaying it in favour of missions and traveling and stuff

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

Charlie sings, more for herself actually, than for anyone else but she’s quite good at it. She’s constantly humming when she’d focusing on something and sometimes doesnt even notice when she starts singing along to songs. She simply loves music a lot and lets herself be taken along by the songs. Has no real preference for genre but she likes happy go lucky songs most

21. Your most artistic OC

Richard aka Dick. He’s at tattoo artist and leaves cool little doodles everywhere. Especially great with colours. The most colorful the better

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

There aren’t really any, since my ocs arent popular or anything. Someone did sometimes, but it was more forcing their ideas or their own thoughts w their own ocs on mine,,,

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Gregory, as you see below has changed quite a bit. While the overall design is the same, now he looks  as nasty as I imagine him to be, a lot less soft.Character-wise my ocs didn’t change drastically

Only the fact, in Gregory’s case, that he got more fleshed out, and the time he lives in changed, to the 50sI’m trying to not write to many long things here lmao.Especially since just u and Leander will read this and Leander knows himst and Regulus already.

Dr Gregory Thomas Landon was born 1911 to Sybill and Raphael Landon. While the first world war almost went by without having any impact on the family, Raphael was pulled into war when America joined in 1917 and died in combat.

With her husband gone and her son just 6 years old, Sybill took a job as a secretary to make sure of her and her sons survival.Sybill had grown up the youngest child (of those who had survived) out of 5, always too smart and abitious for a woman in her time. Her father was Doctor and she would often sneak into his office room to look through notes and books on human anatomy and patient records.She had written down what she believed could be links between illnesses,behaviour and anatomy, finding the greatest interest in the still very new field of psychology. Of course her father wanted to hear nothing of it, Sybills oldest brother being the one ment to inherit their fathers office and place as a doctor.

But Sybill had never stopped being interested in psychology, following the work of Edward Titchner, whod brought psychological studies to America, as well as the rise of ‘structuralism’ ,as close as possible.Unlike Titchner, who excluded the study of children, Sybill wondered if it was the childs mind that should be studied to find the roots of all things. Perhaps it was bitterness above all that drove her to the treatment of her son in the following years. Sybill had lived her life knowing that she had no possibility whatsever to porperly study psychology and work on her theories. But hearing about Margaret Washburn, the woman that had been able to become a psychologist, Sbyill turned anger and disappointment to her son, whom she viewed as the reason she had to stay at home and be a mother isntead of trying to achieve what Ms Washburn had.

Quickly she realized however that she did not need a title or be thought by a Doctor to test her theories, deciding to conduct them on her son, who had kept her from fullfilling her dream. While Gregory was not the perfect research object, already six years and not a infant, who Sybill believed to be the ideal stage, she attempted to see if continous infliction of pain would change her sons behaviour.

She was especially curious if such pain inflicted on the brain would influence Gregorys personality, perhaps causing of curing misbehaviours and such. Gregory would grow up very intelligent but withdrawn, hardly finding kinship with people his age, spending his time reading. Like his mother before him he became interested in the human mind and, unlike Sybill, was able to study, earning him a Doctorate in both psychology and psychiatry

While he remained living with his mother he would sometimes roam the university campus, especially after long nights of studying, observing the people around.

It was there that he, at age 19, that he met a young woman that had been wandering around, lost and visibly pregnant. Seeing her caused a deep shock in Gregory as she resembled his mother in looks like no other woman he’d even seen before. Unbeknowns to his mother, Gregory had suffered great damage from her treatment of him, which had lead to violent thoughts and great apathy. Had the girl not approached him, she would have lived but she decided to ask him for help, ending in her death.

This remained the only unplanned murder commited by the Doctor, who hid her body, laying awake at night, working out what to do with her. He had carefully opened her up, not focused on her death as much as on causing her pain for as long as possible, but as he hadn’t been very ecperienced yet he had made quite a mess. The young woman would turn to the first in a row of women that caused Gregory to perfect his work and disposal of the bodies.

World War Two brought a sudden end to the Doctors murder streak. Age 30 when America entered the War he was pulled into it as a medic, despite not being properly trained as a Doctor 

However his talents that he had perfected during his murders had been of great use during the war that had only led to Gregory becoming even more cold to death and gore. Returning from the War he was offered a position at a instiution, as the need for Psychologists arose.

However Gregory saw no great interest in treating shell shocked patients for too long, he instead chose to focus on the psychiatric field, working in an asylum from then on. Gregory is, while extremely smart, speaking four languages and being a Doctor, unable to form any bonds with people.

He’s terribly arrogant and aware of his intelligence, viewing it as a superiority to other people. He suffers from antisocial personality disorder/ psychopathy and is addicted to nictotine.

He’s a very cleanly person, almost to a point of it being an obsession. He smells of Nicotine, Disinfectant and a neutral perfume.

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

Oh geez, well I’d rather meet an oc of mine thats like, one of the chill ones. Maybe someone about my age.

Someone like Friedrich or Violet. It’d be easiest to talk to them, and I know they are super nice. Meeting Brist, Araan or Caspian would be cool too tho, so many stories and questions there

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)

There used to be the joke that Friedrich is basically a tall, muscular version of me. Funnily enough I now have the chin beard as well, and I’ve discovered that I’m as much of a nerd and work focused person as he is. Still while we share some similarities, we’re p different still lmao

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will?

Not really, only changed things to be more accurate and stuff but that aint against my will or anything

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song? Nope

28. Your most dangerous OC?

There are a couple, such as Cenric (being a crazy, megalomanic, narcisstic, manic Emperor), Gregory and Jonathan (literal serial killers), Crya (cannibalistic monster) and Eligos (p much does body disposal). 

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they’re going?

Eddy and Dick, they would tell each other because they’d go together lmao. Paula would want to and just before going there she’d chicken out of it

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection? Quinn, he’s tall and grown up but he loves small and cute things

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)

Friedrich II:Would have a super cool layout that he coded himself, and would offer the theme for people to use, as well as giving people tips on how to easily do cool things w their themes.

His icon would’ve been fairytale themed for a while until he posts his first selfie for pride month, then it’s a picture of him with a pride flag. He’d reblog peoples art of fairytales, and he’d especially love peoples new interpretations of them

Would reblog thing about rats and post pictures of his own rats with cute captions. Reblogs peoples selfies during pride and other pride days ( like trans day of visibility n such), always adding super nice things in the tags.

He posts his first selfie during pride and it gets quite the reblogs and people asking to see more (half of them are thirsting after his body) Declines the request to post full topless pictures because he says that his blog is sfw and he doesnt want to mix fairtales, rats and codes with nudes.

He would have a nsfw blog tho,,,hes horny He’d give it to those over 18 that’d ask, reblogging gifs and stuff there and yeah thats where he posts topless pictures.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

I’d like to say Brist because that would be funny as hell and he would actually explore everything, pretty unfazed by what is going on. But honestly Annora is already living a horror game pretty much, that is with loosing her parents, fighting for survival,being used by the revolution group as a ‘chosen one’, and especially because she has to encounter the wandering twins, which are creepy as heck. She’s a fighter against will but she pulls through and shes careful enough not to do something stupid.

33. Your shyest OC?

That’d be sweet, pure Charlie

34. Do you have any twin characters?

Oh yes, Eddy and Dick; Jae-Eun and Jae-Hyeok; Nathanael and Susanna

35. Any sibling characters?

There’s a lot coming your way

Cenric and his younger sister Annora

Sadira and her older brother Arshad

Gregory actually has a halfbrother that’s not really developed, named Maximilian 

Charlie and her younger sister Paula

Olivia and her older brother Bill

Arthur and his younger brother Jonathan

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)?

The above mentioned Adelais who belongs to Leander, is let’s say semi-paired w Regulus

Established girlfriends Sadira (who’s my oc) and Elizaveta (who is his)

Violet (mine) and Cole (his) sweet young love

And an AU Version of my oc Echo is the ex of Ninas OC Crem

Charlie used to be w the oc Amy of a friend but idk if that’s still a thing

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human

There are a few, like Myka, Viida, Amodis,Brist, Rovhen and Araan but I think I’ll go with Cyra

Cyra, or ‘Venus Cyra’ is not as developed as some others here so not to worry about too long of a text,,,,I hope

Cyra is meant to exist around the 50s funnily enough, just like Gregory, which I really didn’t intend lmaoShe is,a s the question suggests, not quite human, despite maintaining a relaticely human appearance for most of the time. Cyra lives in a house in the fictional Bloomstreet, which has been declared haunted decades ago because of a man living inside of it that took great joy in messing with his neighbours.

Crya believes herself to have lived in the house all of her life, with no memory as to how she got to come there and why she can’t leave it.In truth it’s told that she moved in with her grandmother when Cyra was just a baby, having lost her parents. If you were to believe the whispers and legends the old woman was very poor, hardly able to keep the small house for her and her granddaughter.

She would wear the same old clothes she had arrived in, the young girl wearing a worn out dress with a pale blue bow. Legends say that they were so poor that the grandmother couldn’t afford to buy much more than bread and water.

A police man came to their door one day because the old woman hadn’t been able to pay for her house anymore. Desperate, it’s said that she hit the man across the head as he had bend down to say hello to Cyra, who looked famished and sick at that point.

Not sure what to do with the body and knowing that her granddaughter needed more than bread to survive and grow, she went to butcher the man and cook him into stew for herself and her granddaughter to eat. As she saw that Cyra became more healthy and stronger at the meat consumption, the old woman, desperate and hopeful to keep her beloved granddaughter alive, fully turned to cannibalism.

It’s said that the grandmother died a couple of years later of old age but legends have it that she is still in the house as well, a half dead monster. Cyra, having eaten human flesh all her life is said to have turned into a wendigo like creature,fully turning into a gruesome beast during the nights, to feed on the flesh of people that dare to enter the haunted house.

She is called Venus in some tales because a man claimed to have seen her one day, watering the roses in the lawn of the house, more beautiful than anything he had seen all his life, calling her ‘a sight like the goddess Venus herself’

Cyra isn’t fully aware of these legends, but she is aware of her monsterous nature, that she is unable to control. She believes she was cursed to stay in this house, a monster taking her place during night, leaving her with the remains of peoiple and the ravaging craving for human flesh.

She loved taxidermy and moths, and tending to flowers.

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?

Irina is a professional ballet dancer so I’d say she’s the best out of my Ocs

39. Introduce any character you want

Alright, because I’ve tought about them recently, I’ll cheat a bit and introduce two ocs: Susanna and Nathanael, whom I mentioned somewhere above briefly as ‘The Wandering Twins’

They are part of my Golden Empire universe and are the heads of one of the groups that build after the collapse of most of what we know of the Earth.

They play a part in Annoras journey to find her brother as both a danger to avoid/defeat, as well as potential allies. Susanna and Nathanael are twins that are both about 1,90m tall and are constantly veiled, having stapled veils to their faces and necks.

That adds to their ghostly,creepy appearance. You could describe their group as a cult,as it is religiously motivated and their followers are devoted to Susanna and Nathanael, who they call ‘Mother’ and ‘The Priest’

That could come fromt he fact that Susanna wears the traditional headwear of a nun, while Nathanael looks somewhat like a Priest and carries a bible around. Christianity is considered an old and outdated religion in the times that GE plays in, practiced by a very small amount of people before the collapse. It’s generally thought of as outdated and outlandish, with stories too wild to be real.

However some of the old text have been recovered or been carried on over generations by those that remain firm believers in the Christian God. Susanna and Nathanael were raised by such a family and spread their belief to vulnerble and scared people after the collapse that latch onto it as a form of explanation easily.

The Twins view the collapse as a sort of apocalypse brought by God to punish Humanity for their sins, they believe that they must attone and suffer now as Earth was made their purgatory. If one is firm in belief and enough suffering is done, so they say, Heaven will open up and they will be taken by God to heaven, forgiven and able to forget the horrors they went through on Earth.

They expect that suffering to be done by their followers, who all walk barefoot, some of them having blinded themself in order to see nothing but God in their lifes. Susanna and Nathanael as well as their group wander in order to spread their message, taking in new followers if they prove their faith by stripping themselves of their footwear and walking through the ruins of cities with them until their feet bleed.

Only if they are willing to shed blood for their sins will they be taken on and be bathed and baptized in a river and dressed in simple gowns.It is considered the highest honour to be veiled just like Susanna and Nathanael. They seem to be able to appear out of nowhere and have a settlement in the woods that they return to.

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

I love developing oc things w my friends, its always a lot of fun and I wish I could do that more. Especially nice was cosplaying Gregory and Jason w Leander,,,cosplaying ocs is rad af, would love to do that again

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)

Yeee, mostly you and Leander actually, but a couple of others too. Let me see if I can show u a favourite oc art from u and from Leander

@bruhchantite listen,,,this is so fucking cute, I love seeing our kids all together. All art of them is always so happy and positive. I love every piece u did of em but this one especially bc,,,bringing star wars into it??Power move

@spokoystviye okay listen you made soo many great pieces but this one,,,this one idk maybe its because I love Brist so much but,, this is simple yet amazing. I love the small light play u got in here and just how u drew Brist,,,thats me boy!!!

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods?

Cenric, I’d say. He thinks of himself as a god after all. I think he’d like the imagery of it all

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confess

Oh geez well,, I generally make my ocs older than me, like most of them are in their late 30s/40s, I have more ocs heading 60s than I have heading 20 lmao. My ocs are more often male than any other gender and more likely to be lgbt than straight. I like nice and clean looks, Leander can tell a great deal about how much I care for a clean look lmao. Most of my ocs have their life in order, and most of them are on the taller side

44. Something you like about your OCs in general

I put thought into my characters,so I think that makes them interesting and fun. And I try very hard to havbe them make sense and be time/lore appropriate.

45. A character you no longer use?

I did drop some Ocs a bit ago that never got much work and that I didn’t think interesting enough to work on. Sadly enough I don’t do as much w my ocs as I’d like to generally.

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?

Nope, I’m generally kind to my characters lmao

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child?

both Nina and Leander did and I think it’s v sweet hell yeah

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

Charlie and Caspian, truly good and pure, and positive

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes

Seth would definitely love memes. So would Kylan but he’d like the really weird ones best. Eddy and Dick would constantly send memes to each other, effectively annoying everyone else. Paula would like memes when they are already outdated

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

Generally special universe oc seem to be more interesting than like,,basic universe ones but I wannt quickly talk abour my OC WilliamI love him okay? He’s from Russia, where he grew up in a tightly knit family. He’s a childrens Doctor and was married to Nahia, who’s an ER Doctor. They met in med school and got along super well, they both were used to the whole early marriage idea and marrying someone you like so they did just that. They both always wanted to have children and kid. It’s very important for them to be there for thgeir child despite their jobs. William is such a dad, he loves his child so much, he’d do anything for em. He and Nahia are best friends, even after the divorce, which happened after long talks because they had noticed that something was off. It led to William confessing that he thinks he might be gay and they ended up divorcing because it turns out yes he is. William probably would’ve stayed w Nahia, also for their childs sake but she wouldn’t hear anything of it. He’s a very kind man, calm and I love the thought of him being able to explore who he is even at his age. He’d be so new to everything,,sobs,,angel

[morganmaywrites]

Thoughts on a Romance: The Larkspur Series, Part 1

Introduction

If you’re reading this, I think you would agree that I like writing. I also like writing about writing. I even like writing about my own writing. Sometimes, I enjoy getting to write about my work: my process, my intentions, how I feel I’ve succeeded or failed in achieving my goals. A book post-mortem, if you will, peeling back the skin to rummage around inside the soft stuff underneath.

And, sometimes my metaphors are kind of gross.

This is one of those times, I’m afraid. On both accounts.

Now that the second part in my ongoing romance series, is out, I decided it might be fun to take a step back and engage with the books as a whole. As it stands, the first two parts, Caught and Collared and Bought and Sold respectively, serve as the initial half of this two-act play. There will be four books all told, charting the difficult beginnings of Aden Brand’s relationship with Kristoffer Rask, and culminating in (what I hope will be) a satisfying conclusion to a 20+ year romantic arc. A lot happens over the four books, and a lot changes for the characters as well, not only in the material world of the series, but in how I’ve come to approach them.

(Also, just to clear up the inevitable question: No, nobody’s going to die. I’m not that awful. I got all the deaths out of the way with Gale, thank you very much.)

That said, I realize writing an essay about what ostensibly began as, and still is, a kinky sex book may sound a bit...excessive. I’m sure to most people, it would be. And while this series doesn’t have much of a reach or an audience, I care a great deal about it. A lot of time, effort, and energy went into these books - too character-driven to be erotica, too rough around the edges to be fluffy romance - and I have a lot of thoughts about them. Thoughts about the characters, the story, the internal logic of the world, and how all of it came to be.

And so, if you’ll indulge me, I would like to talk about these books for a bit. But, in order to do that, we have to take the books apart piece by piece, to get at meat and bones of it. Let’s start where all books (just not these books, of course) start: at the beginning.

(Fair warning: There will be spoilers for both books ahead.)

Caught and Collared: Audrey Hepburn, Humphrey Bogart, and a Certain Suave Cannibal or Two

The inspiration for the Larkspur Series came from two strange, seemingly incompatible places: Billy Wilder’s 1954 romantic comedy Sabrina, and Bryan Fuller’s slightly less comedic (but no less romantic, I would argue) 2013-2015 television series Hannibal.

I can see you closing your browser. Just give me a moment to explain myself.

To be more specific, the Larkspur Series came from two preoccupations of mine: dominant/submissive relationship dynamics, especially when complicated by class divisions, and the allure of Old Hollywood romance. Sabrina is one of my favorite movies, and one of my favorite Audrey Hepburn movies. Both Sabrina and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, to me, symbolize the way emotionally complex stories about gender roles and class/social mobility in romantic relationships are glossed over as simplistic romcoms. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, based on the Truman Capote novella, in particular has impacted a lot of my thinking and work in regards to class, money, social mobility, and romance.

To say that class-conscious characters, such as Aden Brand in the Larkspur Series and Adam Harlow in my superhero novel The Crashers, are a recurring theme would be an understatement. Money, class divisions, the exploitation of the working class, and the transaction of money/labor in romantic relationships is something I ponder on a lot. In The Crashers, Adam is a young working class Irish Catholic gay man and army veteran with PTSD. Adam falls in love with Bridger, a middle aged man who ran from his roots as a working class bisexual Jewish youth to marry above his station. Bridger makes his way into the city’s Protestant, English-descendent upper class society by denying his background; through his relationship with Adam, he is able to return to, and make peace with, his identity.

Here, class is bound to cultural, religious, and sexual identity to define both Adam and Bridger as individuals. Class is rooted to their senses of personhood, as well as their senses as authenticity. With Adam, Bridger is able to begin the process of reclaiming his previous identity, which is juxtaposed against the values and ethics displayed by the upper class characters, such as Caitlin.

When Bridger’s wife Caitlin attempts to pay Adam to take care of her husband following their divorce, she’s using capital to recompense Adam’s emotional labor. She isn’t thinking of this as an act of purchasing Adam, of course, but as a means of ensuring Bridger is taken care of without her in his life. While I don’t explicitly criticize this exchange, I do try to highlight the complexities of class and commerce in the context of romantic and interpersonal relationships. Adam doesn’t accept the money, but moreso out of his own code of ethics than any explicit attack on Caitlin or her station.

In the Larkspur Series, I wanted to draw very clear distinctions between these divisions. Class isn’t just a matter of identity for Aden: it defines the boundaries of his relationships with the other characters. The crux of his antagonistic relationship with Celia is explicitly tied to this property and monetary exchange, as well as Aden’s low class status. But to talk about that, we have to go back to Sabrina.

Class, Power, and Romance: The Plight of Aden Brand

Like the titular character of Billy Wilder’s romcom, Aden Brand is the only child of a single working class father, in the employ of a wealthy family. He grows up on the margins of luxury, peering in on the lives of the Bellamy family, but never allowed inside their insulated world. Like Sabrina Fairchild, who leaves her roots as a chauffeur's daughter for a new life in Paris, Aden begins as a similarly precocious character. He’s intelligent, observant, and sensitive, earning scholarships to attend college far away from the Bellamy estate. They both freely wander the grounds where their fathers live and work, positioned in relation to the sprawling nature beyond the castle-like homesteads, peering in from the outside. Sabrina falls for David, and later Linus, Larrabee; Aden enters into an unconventional and illicit affair with Kristoffer Rask, the fiance of Bellamy heiress, Celia.

Moreover, they both leave home, but under difficult circumstances. The lovestruck Sabrina attempts to kill herself after being ignored by David, the love of her young life. An equally heartbroken Aden has a violent confrontation with his father Gale, which effectively ends their strained relationship. Sabrina leaves home to reconcile the love she can’t have, reminded of her station; Aden, in temporarily escaping his station, loses his father, as well as the love of his own young life.

Whereas Sabrina returns from Paris a sophisticated young woman, confident enough to pursue her romantic goals, Aden’s transformation is intentionally more tragic. He does indeed find his calling as an English professor, but he never reconciles with his past. Instead, he remains haunted by it, marked by a lingering, lifelong depression and anxiety. Sabrina, never truly waylaid by the despair that brought her to the verge of suicide, eagerly returns home to a loving father and the promise of new romance. Anxious and grieving, Aden is forced back home to deal with his father’s recent death and reminders of thwarted love affairs.

(Aden does undergo a metamorphosis about halfway through the book, but this awakening is much more of a sexual one, which I’ll get to later.)

As the plot of Sabrina flattens complicated emotional turmoil and class divisions into a story of one plucky girl’s search for love, I wanted to use that glossy, romantic narrative framework to investigate some of these themes. Aden, in essence, is a depressed, bisexual, genderswapped Sabrina Fairchild, with a dash of Holly Golightly thrown in there for good measure.

Whereas Linus Larrabee’s uncomfortable reminders of Sabrina’s station are resolved through the absolution of true love, Aden is forever marked as a dog by Celia Bellamy and others throughout the series. His station has left him othered, lesser than, and subjected to the vice-like socioeconomic pressure wielded by the rest of the cast. He’s a Sabrina without the ability to overcome the conditions of his upbringing, forever tethered to his past like a slowly sinking rock.

The Bellamys themselves are based on the structure of the Larrabee family: the patriarch and matriarch, the heir, and the black sheep. Celia stands in for the cynical, business-minded Linus Larrabee. (Linus Rask, Kristoffer’s father, is also named after Humphrey Bogart’s character, because I’m a sucker for a random reference.) Ellie stands in for oat-sowing David Larrabee, the object of Sabrina’s starry-eyed designs, although Ellie is a far more responsible, warm-hearted person than the playboy and layabout of the film.

Kristoffer, for his part, actually does the double-duty of splitting the roles of Linus and David. He is at once the object of the protagonist’s youthful romantic gaze, as well as the mature, more pragmatic love interest the protagonist later falls for.  And, so, we have to talk about Kristoffer. Because he has more going on with him than he lets on.

Not So Grey: On The Subject of Kristoffer Rask

Kristoffer certainly hails from the upper class, part of the world Aden has been denied access to, but he enters the story in a state of limbo. Unlike Aden, who is struggling with himself as much as he’s struggling with rigid class divisions, for Kristoffer, his is a war of images.

Kristoffer’s family is wealthy, but not as wealthy as Celia’s. Even a subsidiary of his father’s shipping company is absorbed by Philip Bellamy’s industrial empire, a business exchange in which Kristoffer remarks he was “acquired” by the Bellamys. That isn’t entirely true, as he and Celia had a relationship beyond their respective family businesses, but still reflects on his lowered position compared to Celia.

Following his marriage, Kristoffer doesn’t own any property; everything in his possession is owned, signed for, or given to him by Celia. He’s seen as a playboy and layabout by his own family as well as Celia’s (with the exception of the Bellamy matriarch, Sabine), all of whom describe him as shallow and consider his interest in the art world “frivolous.” He doesn’t talk about himself, because no one asks. Kristoffer is, by general consensus, charming, but disposable.

Over time, these things define the person Kristoffer presents himself as. A layabout, who works very hard and takes his career seriously. A playboy, who loves his partners very deeply, and wants long-lasting relationships. A shallow fool, who has things to say if ever asked. Kristoffer has the status to do what he wants, but is subject to the expectations, assumptions, and economic constraints of those around him. He may not believe what others say about him, but what choice does he truly have in changing their minds? Kristoffer has a role that he must fill, to please those around him, and he’s resigned himself to it.

Kristoffer is, well - Kristoffer’s a woman in an Old Hollywood romcom. He’s a man owned by his wife, within the context of a dominant/submissive sexual and economic relationship, whose sometimes unpleasant inner life is glossed over for the sake of outward appearances. Celia owns Kristoffer, limits his financial mobility within the marriage, and dictates the framework of Kristoffer’s romantic relationships.

This in and of itself isn’t negative, as this is the relationship Kristoffer willingly enters in when he decides to court Celia, subjecting himself to her domination as part of their physical and emotional dynamic. However, when Celia uses this framework to control Kristoffer (and likewise disrupt Aden’s life in lasting, traumatizing ways), against Kristoffer’s wants and needs, the dynamic becomes gravely imbalanced.

Everything in the world of the books is subject to these kinds of power dynamics. Celia, from a position of absolute social, economic, and sexual power, dominates Kristoffer, who is consensually submissive to her. Kristoffer, in turn, dominates Aden, who is consensually submissive to Kristoffer. Aden and Celia sit at opposite ends of this spectrum with relation to Kristoffer, who is in a mediated position, but ultimately powerless.

Even as a switch, someone who moves between dominant and submissive sexual roles depending on the context and circumstance, Kristoffer’s an inherently subservient character. He’s submissive to Celia, because he enjoys the rigid structure of their relationship. Likewise, he’s submissive to Aden, in that his role as the dominant partner is predicated wholly on Aden’s desires to be dominated by him. Everything Kristoffer does, and gains pleasure from, is rooted in meeting the expectations of his partners. Complicated as it is by economic factors, the true power struggle is between Aden and Celia. Aden, who lacks wealth and resources, and Celia, who weaponizes them.

The Woman in the Ivory Tower: Celia Bellamy

Unlike Caitlin, who uses her wealth as a means to protect Bridger from emotional harm, Celia uses wealth to coerce and control. Celia pays off Gale Brand to essentially abandon his son Aden, and allows Kristoffer to think he drove Aden away for the entirety of their marriage. Despite the direct emotional harm she’s knowingly causing, Celia believes the ends (keeping Kristoffer to herself, within the boundaries of their established relationship) justify the means. She loves Kristoffer, so she’ll hurt him if it means he stays with her. She’ll hold wealth, power, and material possessions over his head, so he understands his place.

This use of capital to barter for her husband’s sole attention, at the expense of Aden’s trauma and Kristoffer’s suffering, is explicitly predatory. Celia’s reasoning may be relatable, if not justifiable in some respects, but her actions are so damaging that she can’t absolve herself of their impact on Kristoffer, Aden, Gale, and others. Moreover, it’s an unfair stipulation to place on an otherwise polyamorous relationship. While Celia’s extramarital relationships are short-term and usually entirely sexual, she knows that Kristoffer is happier in long-term, emotionally-involved, non-hierarchical partnerships. So long as he doesn’t place anyone else above or comparable to her, Celia will allow Kristoffer his “dalliances,” all the while reminding him of his imposed material dependency on her.

For all of these complications and raised questions, however, I concede that there is no nice, tidy solution. Class, privilege, and economic tensions don’t stop with the Bellamys. It isn’t as if Kristoffer simply stops being wealthy, or Aden immediately forgets how others see him. When confronting Celia, who is too entrenched in her denial and justifications by the beginning to Bought and Sold to be reasoned with, Aden’s only solution is to barter. By recompensing Celia for Kristoffer, reenacting the transaction between Celia and Gale seventeen years earlier, Aden is effectively purchasing Kristoffer. Aden, to his credit, isn’t proud of this choice. I tried to frame it as neutrally as possible in the final act of Bought and Sold, because it is inherently dehumanizing. Though Aden knows it isn’t noble or ideal, it’s the only solution he can come up with, in the context of the power dynamics at work.

Just as Celia believes her actions are justified by her circumstances, so does Aden. Neither of them is right, but the morality of the situation is already complicated by power, wealth, and emotional baggage. There is no clearly moral right or wrong answer; some choices are just less harmful than others. Aden’s recognition of this fact, in parroting Celia’s morality back to her, is the only way he can get her to see the harm of her own actions. Celia isn’t bested or shamed by Aden, she just realizes how destructive she’s been, and accepts the consequences of her behavior. She also accepts the root cause of her jealousy towards Aden, a fear of being outshined by the lowly groundskeeper's son.

Celia, while deeply flawed, isn’t evil. She’s stoic, stubborn, and emotionally closed off, using class as a means to shield herself from others. The same could be said of Aden, who is similarly emotionally reserved and assumes (although with good reason, in this case) that class determines people’s values and behavior. While divided by class, both Celia and Aden are a lot more alike than either of them is comfortable in admitting.

Money Changes Everything: Gender, Class, and Capital

So, I do admit any critique I attempt to offer is softened by this morally hazy, but ultimately peaceful, resolution. Neither Aden or myself could come up with a better way to deal with these issues, and that’s fine enough. However, what I was more interested in exploring through Bought and Sold is the use of wealth in romance books, and the potentially abusive nature of financial dominance. As I said before, it isn’t as if Kristoffer forgoes his wealth, and all of the complications it engenders in his relationship with Aden.

Kristoffer most certainly buys things for Aden, just as Celia did for him. Kristoffer will always be in a more financially, socially secure position than Aden. This takes the form of material goods, gifts, and gestures that Aden simply can’t reciprocate. Whereas Kristoffer always had means of his own, even in his marriage, Aden doesn’t, and will most likely never have comparable means on a professor’s meager salary. On the surface, Aden is always at a disadvantaged position in this situation, subject to any hypothetical financial abuse and manipulation that could arise in his relationship with Kristoffer. But I wanted to make it a bit more complicated than that, if only to raise a point.

Celia, as pointedly mentioned in Bought and Sold, owns four things in Kristoffer’s possession: the house they shared during their marriage, his car, his phone, and his apartment. The home, car, and phone have all been given to him, and the apartment he’s allowed to use. Celia, effectively, controls the places and means through which Kristoffer lives, works, travels, and communicates with others. That seems meaningless to someone with Kristoffer’s status, but these four things do very much represent his access to shelter, safety, and autonomy.

I don’t mean to imply that Celia is actively abusing Kristoffer in this way. Kristoffer does have means to leave his wife, and doesn’t consider himself mistreated or abused. But the case could certainly be made, because their relationship does have a lot of problematic elements. They love each other, but the foundations of their marriage are largely unhealthy. Many relationships with these kinds of lopsided power dynamics certainly are. Again, I realize this is less of a criticism and more of a thematic feature, but I wanted to put these ideas into the text and let them play out. I don’t intend to demonize or lionize anyone here, just look at the fallout of troubled relationships.

This is also par for the course in romance books with unbalanced class and power dynamics. One partner (usually the man) controls and dictates the other partner’s (usually the woman's) life, work, and autonomy through material means. A phone, a car, an apartment, a laptop, establishing control and influence by making the other partner reliant on the practical necessities you provide. This is then reinforced by grand gestures, such as new clothes or spontaneous holidays, to make the coercion appear whimsical, romantic, and fun. It’s not controlling, it’s sweet!

I don’t even really have to say it, do I? We all know what I’m talking about. This isn’t even the most egregious example of this in all of book or film, of course, just the most infamous and easily recognizable. I promise you: dig around in romcoms and romance books long enough, you start to see Christian Greys and Ana Steeles absolutely everywhere. This is my point: these kinds of relationships are so common that most people don’t even recognize them when they see them in media. A man taking over a woman’s life through economic domination is an acceptable, if not desirable, part of courtship. But if a woman does it to a man, we recognize it as harmful and constricting. Because Celia definitely exhibits some very Grey-like behavior, as she manipulates others and justifies those actions to avoid dealing with her own enduring emotional shortcomings.

It’s okay, according to Celia. She overstepped her boundaries and Kristoffer has every right to be upset, but it’s nothing a few sweeping romantic gestures can’t fix. He’ll come to his senses eventually, and see that she only has his best interests in mind. It’s fine, as long as it’s out of love.

This, of course, could have troubling implications for Kristoffer’s relationship with Aden. After all, Kristoffer is replicating a lot of these behaviors in terms of how he uses money on Aden. But unlike in his marriage with Celia, where possessions are used to remind him of his place, Kristoffer doesn’t use wealth to control Aden’s behavior. Kristoffer gives Aden practical, but not necessary, things, such as new clothes, or converting the spare bedroom into an office for Aden to work. Kristoffer does want Aden to live with him, and to provide for Aden financially, but these gestures come without strings or stipulations. Kristoffer’s offers to pay Aden’s way are always framed as a matter of choice.

In Bought and Sold, Kristoffer wants Aden to be help him choose a house, which Aden has no obligation to move into if he chooses not to. He buys Aden clothes, gives Aden gifts, and pays for Aden whenever they go out, but it’s never dependent on Aden meeting some arbitrary criteria. While Aden doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, he also feels no pressure to be a kept man, as Kristoffer encourages Aden to do whatever Aden feels necessary for his own well-being. What Aden wants, Aden gets, but only if Aden communicates the wanting when faced with a clear choice.

In adhering to the negotiated framework of their relationship, Kristoffer simply wants to take care of Aden. He gains great pleasure from assuming the intersecting roles of dominant partner, owner, and caretaker, for their own sakes. Whether he’s buying Aden gifts or choosing what Aden wears, pulling out Aden’s chair at a restaurant or binding his hands during sex, these are all manifestations of Kristoffer’s desire to care for his partner. Aden has entered into this relationship willingly, as a submissive who enjoys relinquishing control of these facets of his life. Ever the contrarian, Aden may fuss and complain (sometimes out of anxiety, most often just to be a pain in Kristoffer’s ass), but he’s never coerced. Should his needs and desires change, Kristoffer’s methods of care will adjust accordingly.

Whereas Kristoffer wasn’t given choice in his marriage, subject to Celia’s wants and expected to yield rather than risk confrontation, Aden is completely free to negotiate their relationship at any time. Aden is only dominated insofar that he agrees to be. Despite his lack of means and social mobility compared to Kristoffer, Aden holds all the power in their relationship. It’s up to Aden to wield it wisely, and not to harm or manipulate Kristoffer for his benefit. Because, despite appearances and tropes, it really is Kristoffer’s heart at stake here. Celia and Aden are both resourceful, self-contained people who function in positions of power in their relationships, and it’s up to them to be kind.

But, you say, having resisted the urge to close your browser, what does any of this talk of economic exploitation have to do with Hannibal? The answer to that is, well, not much. While the narrative structure of Sabrina provided an angle to approach the books, it was Hannibal that influenced the relationships themselves. To go into that, come back for my next post, where I’ll go into all the sexy business. Which is the only business that matters.

Notes:

While applicable to some extent, I chose to leave this discussion squarely in the realm of interpersonal class dynamics and sidestep all sugar daddy/sugar baby discourse. I joke about Aden being a sugar baby (both in the story and online), but I don’t think it’s an entirely relevant to Aden’s circumstances. I personally see no problem with people who enter into relationships for financial stability, so long as all the partners involved are honest about their intentions.

Of course, Aden having a job doesn’t make him noble or morally just in this respect. It’s not a judgement call. I just think this conversation is different for a woman entering this kind of a relationship than it is for a man, given the reality of gendered socioeconomic discourse. I’m definitely interested in these kinds of discussions, so maybe I can save that for a later blog post.

[mutant-jojos]

Minor character profiles

Other characters to be added as necessary!

Joestar family

George Joestar - The father of the three Joestar boys. Born in England, he served in the royal air force for a time before moving to the U.S., where he took up a career in real estate. A kind, hardworking man and a loving father. After his first wife left him, he met Seiko Higashikata while on a business trip to Japan, and married her about a year later. Murdered by Dio in 2010. 

Elizabeth Joestar: George’s first wife and biological mother of Jonathan and Joseph. Formerly a highly successful lawyer, and particularly known for her role in the so-called “Pillar Men case” of the late 80s, in which she ensured that three mutants who had committed many murders got convicted. However, in 1996 she suddenly divorced her husband for reasons unknown to her children, and her current whereabouts are unknown.

Holly Joestar (Seiko Higashikata) - George’s second wife, Jotaro’s biological mother, and mother in every other sense of the word to Jonathan and Joseph. Born in Morioh, Japan; Upon moving to America with her husband, George, she adopted the name “Holly”. Beloved by all for her sweet and gentle nature. Murdered by Dio in 2010. 

Danny - The Joestars’ beloved childhood pet, a friendly and highly intelligent harlequin great dane. Unfortunately, he died in 2004 after being hit by a car; After some debate, it was eventually determined that he did not simply wander into the street, but was in fact pushed by Dio.

Tomoko Higashikata - The younger sister of Seiko Higashikata/Holly Joestar, and mother of Josuke. Had an affair with a foreigner during her college years, which led to the birth of Josuke, who she raised as a single mother with help from her father and long-distance support from her sister’s family. Died in a car accident in 2013.

Ryohei Higashikata - Seiko and Tomoko’s father, a police officer in Morioh. Helped to raise Josuke along with Tomoko. Died in a car accident in 2013.

Jotaro’s pet fish - Jotaro has had many pet fish of varying types over the years. Their names are Beyoncé, Cyndi Lauper, Madonna, Shakira, Mariah Carey, Britney Speares, and Katy Perry. Only Beyoncé, Mariah, Shakira, and Britney are currently alive; Madonna died during a power outage, Cyndi Lauper was eaten by Katy Perry, and Katy Perry died of an infection after having been bitten by Beyoncé. Jotaro and Kakyoin suspect that Beyoncé purposefully bit Katy with the intention of avenging Cyndi.

Joestar aquaintances

Dio Brando - Jonathan’s childhood... “friend”. Initially hated mutants (although he never showed that side of him when Jonathan or his parents were around, much to the frustration of Joseph and Jotaro), but after developing powers of his own at age 12, he came to believe that he and certain other mutants were inherently better than humanity as a whole. As he grew increasingly more conceited, he and Jonathan had several falling-outs, culminating in a violent fight in which Dio murdered George and Holly Joestar. He has not been seen since. His powers include levitation, super strength, freezing, and the ability to heal himself- at the cost of draining life force from other living beings.

Will Zeppeli - A longtime friend of the family, and mentor to George’s father, who died young and was also named Jonathan. Very eccentric, but kind, and helped the boys get back on their feet after the deaths of their parents. Owns a book store, where Jonathan works.

Jonathan’s friends

Robert E.O. Speedwagon - Grew up on the streets, and was involved in crime throughout his youth before finally doing his best to go clean. Currently seems to bounce around from job to job and doesn’t always even have one, but when he does, he manages to give a portion of what he makes to charity, no matter how small his wages. A supportive friend with fantastic hair. Very gay for Jonathan, although Jonathan himself is oblivious to this. His superpower is heating his abs red hot.

Erina Pendleton - Jonathan’s longtime girlfriend. They initially dated in middle school, but she lived abroad for several years before finally returning in 2010. Currently a medical student, with dreams of opening her own clinic that treats anyone, including mutants, at low costs so it’s accessible to the poor. Very passionate about improving healthcare for mutants, and very kind and motherly, but doesn’t take shit from anyone.

Joseph and Caesar’s friends

Smokey Brown - An orphan with a knack for picking pockets, and friend of Joseph’s since the first year of high school. Although he is known to be somewhat easily freaked out, he’s generally the voice of reason among their group. Always there if you need someone to confide in. Currently attending college with plans of going into politics.

Suzi Q - Joseph’s girlfriend, although they had feelings for each other long before they started dating, and only got together after a lot of pressure from Smokey and Caesar to just fucking confess already jesus christ. (Even now, they’re still a bit shy in their relationship.) Sweet, energetic, and absolutely terrible at making decisions.

Josuke and Okuyasu’s friends and classmates

Koichi Hirose - The first friend Josuke made after moving to the U.S., partly because of his basic Japanese skills. A very well-behaved boy and definitely the most reasonable member of their friend group, although he can be persuaded into doing reckless things, and can be quite cruel and crafty when he wants to. He has the ability to create auditory hallucinations- whether affecting everyone within a certain radius, or targeting specific individuals- and is lucky enough to have very pro-mutant parents, so his friends often hang out at his place.

Yukako Yamagishi - Koichi’s girlfriend, although she’s friends with Josuke and Okuyasu too. Almost impossible to stop once she’s put her mind to something, and probably the most likely to get away with murder out of anyone. Her power is manipulation of her hair. Her parents are very anti-mutant, and don’t know that she and Koichi are mutants, or that they have other friends who are.

Toshikazu Hazamada - A student in their grade, a shapeshifter who’s been known to cause trouble using other people’s identities. Although he is definitely a troublemaker, he’s not always especially malicious, and has something of a truce with Koichi due to having the same favorite manga.

Other

Rohan Kishibe - Author of the international best selling manga Pink Dark Boy, and former classmate of Joseph and Caesar, to whom he is known as “Hey, aren’t you that kid who drew all the weaboo stuff in 9th grade?”. Can “read” the histories of others, a power which is activated through physical contact. (While it is voluntary, he usually wears gloves just as a precaution.) Seems to have taken a liking to Koichi, for whatever reason, but doesn’t always get along with most of the others due to his generally snobby personality. Doesn’t consider himself part of the mutant community, and instead believes himself to be on a separate tier from all of humanity; However, unlike Dio, he doesn’t believe that this devalues anyone else and isn’t really interested in the whole “enslaving humanity to do my bidding” thing.

Mikitaka Hazakura - An odd boy with shapeshifting powers, probably about Josuke and Okuyasu’s age, who claims to be an alien whose full name is Nu Mikitakazo Nshi. Has been known to eat things that really aren’t meant for eating.

Telence T. D’Arby - An egotistical tryhard gamer who’s something of an unwanted rival to Kakyoin. Both of them have frequented the same gaming store for many years, and ever since Kakyoin beat him in a Mario Kart tournament, Telence has been determined to beat him at everything he possibly can.

Hol Horse - Another former classmate of Joseph and Caesar. Nobody knows why he acts like a bad cowboy stereotype. Everyone kind of thought he’d grow out of it after the first year or two of high school, but somehow, he didn’t. What a weird guy.

Tonio Trussardi - Owner of the best pizza place around, and just generally an amazing cook. Has the power to sense health issues (both physical and mental) in others, and like a true Italian, often attempts to remedy them using the power of good home cooking.

Wang Chen - A Chinese immigrant who sells weird T-shirts and other things out of a banged up old van behind the post office. Always has kind of a shifty aura about him and the fact that he’s selling these things out of a van behind the post office is questionable, but hey, at least his shirts are cool and reasonably priced!

Keicho Nijimura - Okuyasu’s older brother, with the power to manipulate certain small objects. Due to having to take care of his family on his own at a young age, he was always very stressed, which usually manifested in anger and aggression towards the most convenient target (which was usually Okuyasu). Tragically, he eventually committed suicide at age 17.

Mr. Nijimura - Okuyasu and Keicho’s father. Had a difficult time holding down a job, and signed up for an experimental medical trial that resulted in his mutation- whatever it may have originally been- going wild, until he was eventually more animal than human. Killed by Keicho at the same time he committed suicide.

Reimi Sugimoto - A resident of Morioh. Josuke’s former babysitter when he was a kid, and also took him in during the period of time between the death of his family and when he was able to move in with his American cousins.

Rudol von Stroheim - A local police officer and actual neonazi. However, he seems to be mostly all talk and might not even actually have a real concept of reality. Joseph often finds it entertaining to prompt him into going on his long, hilariously bizarre rants, and sometimes records this and posts it on his blog.

Straizo - Another cop. Mysterious and cold, and more professional than Stroheim.

The Passione gang - An up-and-coming local mutant gang who the cops can never seem to catch. Coincidentally, in the years since their gang formed, drug-related crimes in the area have dropped drastically, and local gardening and agriculture seems to be flourishing.

[newyorktheater]

Andre De Shields in Hadestown

Tom Glynn-Carney as Shane Corcoran, center, The Ferryman (in-between Fra Fee as Michael Carney, and Conor MacNeill as Diarmaid Corcoran)

(l-r) Tony Shalhoub and Katrina Lenk in The Band’s Visit

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 with Josh Groban i

Daveed Diggs, Okieriete Onaodowan, Anthony Ramos and Lin-Manuel Miranda in Hamilton 2015

Disgraced

Fun Home with Gabriella Pizzolo and Michael Cerveris

Then She Fell

Detroit

Tracy Letts and Amy Morton in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, opening on Broadway October 13, 2012

The Motherf**ker With the Hat

The Orphans Home Cycle

As 2019 is coming to an end, leaving many of us worn down , it might be more rewarding to express gratitude for favorite New York shows that opened not just this year but for the decade as a whole. As in my normal top 10 New York Theater list each Thanksgiving, the choices are of course subjective; these were MY favorite in each year. But this list is also particularly arbitrary. Why go year by year as I do below, rather than rank my ten favorite overall since 2010? And why ten years? What’s so special about a period of time we don’t even know what to call — “the tens”? The two halves of the decade were distinctly different time periods, certainly politically. But these past ten years also happen to be a time in which I have been seeing as much theater in New York as I can as a critic – and for that I am grateful.

2010

The Orphans Home Cycle

by Horton Foote

“How can human beings stand all that comes to them?” Horace Robedaux asks in “The Story of a Family,” the last play of “The Orphans’ Home Cycle,” which I saw just as the decade began. In the play, it is 1918 and people are dying of influenza at home or in combat overseas, but the question underlies Horton Foote’s entire nine-play cycle. And the answer, after nine hours watching an ensemble of some two dozen actors presenting 26 years in the life of Horace Robedaux and his extended family, is: They just do.

Horton Foote, who is best known as the Academy Award-winning screenwriter of “To Kill A Mockingbird” and “Tender Mercies” and who died in 2009 at the age of 92, had written the plays that make up “The Orphan’s Home Cycle” at different times some three to four decades earlier. They are inspired by the story of his father, and by his birthplace, the small Texas town of Wharton, which he renamed Harrison. Director Michael Wilson trimmed the plays to an hour apiece, put them in chronological order and grouped them into three parts, “The Story of A Childhood,” “The Story of A Marriage,” and “The Story of A Family.” The producers had plans to bring the show to Broadway, but this never happened.

2011

The Motherfucker with the Hat

by Stephen Adly Guirgis

Jackie and Veronica have been a couple since the eighth grade, even after he became an addict and a drug dealer and went to prison. He’s out, newly sober, and in love. She remains an addict, but has a good job in a salon.
They are about to have sex when Jackie notices a man’s hat on the table…and the hat isn’t his.
If all this sounds grim, it isn’t. This first scene, exuberantly foul-mouthed, was so hilarious and touching that it was almost thrilling.

“The Motherf**ker with the Hat” (as it was commonly referred to)marked the Broadway debut (and so far only Broadway play) by Stephen Adly Guirgis, who four years later won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama for “Between Riverside and Crazy” (which was presented Off-Broadway.) The play was about people on the margins of society reaching for love and stability. It featured a cast, especially Bobby Cannaval and Elizabeth Rodriguez, who combined an authentic-feeling energy and rhythm from the streets with a mastery of stage technique.

2012

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Detroit,

Then She Fell

I made three top 10 lists in 2012, which either means that it was an especially good year for theater, or I was just drunk with the power of creating my first Top 10 lists.

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf

Its fourth Broadway production opened 50 years to the day after the first Broadway production, and was a hit…palpably, to the guts. The original “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” caused a sensation, and that was true as well of the Steppenwolf Theater Company’s production, transferred intact from Chicago, directed by Pam MacKinnon (Clybourne Park) and starring Tracy Letts and Amy Morton, the Pulitzer-winning playwright and Tony-nominated star, respectively, of “August: Osage County.”

Detroit

This play by Lisa D’Amour takes place in a suburb of what is probably Detroit, but it could be any run-down first-generation suburb that began with hopefulness and street signs named after Nature. It is one of the few shows on a New York stage in 2012 to address the effects of a faltering economy, and, while grounded in reality, it was also funny, dark and surreal,  with a spot-on cast. Amy Ryan and David Schwimmer played a couple just hanging on who befriend new next-door neighbors Sarah Sokolovic and Darren Pettie who are even worse off.

Then She Fell

Tthe Third Rail Projects’ immersive take on Lewis Carroll debuted in 2012 but I didn’t get around to reviewing it until 2016

Shout out as well to These Seven Sicknesses, playwright Sean Graney’s adaptation of all seven of Sophocles’ surviving plays—Oedipus, In Trachis, Philoktetes, In Colonus, Ajax, Elektra and Antigone —performed by the Bats, the resident company of The Flea and directed by  Ed Sylvanus Iskandar, and Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike — neither of which, inexplicably, made any of my lists.

2013

Fun Home

A remarkable musical based on Alison Bechdel’s graphic memoir about her childhood with a father who was secretly gay is a work of theater that is inventive, entertaining, in places exhilarating, and almost inexpressibly heartbreaking. It moved to Broadway in 2015 and won the Tony Award for Best Musical

My Top 10 for 2013

2014

Disgraced and The Invisible Hand

by Ayad Akhtar

Amir is a successful, hard-charging corporate attorney in New York working for a largely Jewish law firm. He has angrily rejected the Islamic religion of his childhood because of attitudes like his mother’s, changed his name so it is not recognizably Muslim or Pakistani, and married a white woman – not a Jew but a blonde WASP, who inadvertently sets into motion the two plot lines that explode at a dinner party with another couple. Althought it won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, there are plenty of people who didn’t care for “Disgraced,”  seeing it as too much like a lecture, too cynical or too contrived.  But this first play by a major new voice on the American stage managed to be both dramatically satisfying and politically important, confronting us with our assumptions and pieties about the culture clash that is defining our era. “Disgraced” is a play that sparked conversation even among those who didn’t like it.

With “The Invisible Hand,” at New York Theatre Workshop, the playwright is in some ways even more daring, turning the story of a kidnapped American banker in Pakistan into a lesson in economics and morality.

My top 10 for 2014

  2015

Hamilton

In my third review of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop opera about the life and times of the Founding Father whose face is on the ten dollar bill, I  wondered as it was opening on Broadway whether it had already reached the point in the life of a Broadway hit when “any individual opinion no longer matters. It’s a hit because it’s a hit, and people go because it’s a hit; those who don’t like it are likely to blame themselves.”

“Hamilton” is unquestionably a phenomenon. It’s the first Broadway show in a while to spread so widely into the larger culture. It thrust creator Lin-Manuel Miranda into stardom. But all this doesn’t change what I see as the ways that the show was groundbreaking, and remains breathtaking.

My top 10 for 2015 

  2016

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

This sung-through musical adapted from a “scandalous slice” of “War and Peace” by Leo Tolstoy was on my list of top 10 in 2013, when it had moved from the Off-Broadway theater Ars Nova to a circus tent in the Meatpacking District. I was struck from the get-go by its catchy songs and by its cutting-edge stagecraft.

I list it as my favorite in 2016 because in its move to Broadway starring Josh Groban, it didn’t change much. Its staging came very close to the kind of immersive theater that’s been intriguing theatergoers all over the world – everywhere but Broadway, until now.

The musical was a collaboration among three emerging theater artists who have now fully emerged – composer Dave Malloy, director Rachel Chavkin and set designer Mimi Lien. All of them have an already impressive track record  — and promise groundbreaking work to come.

  My top 10 for 2016

  2017

The Band’s Visit

The plot of this delicate adaptation of an indie Israeli film by Eran Kolirin hardly seems the stuff of Broadway musicals: An Egyptian police band gets lost on its way to performing at an Arab cultural center in Israel, and winds up spending a single night in an isolated desert town; one of the best songs is “Welcome to Nowhere.” But this show, which transferred from Off-Broadway, hit the spot thanks to David Yazbek’s exquisite Middle Eastern score and delicious lyrics, a spot-on cast led by the incomparable Tony Shalhoub and Katrina Lenk, and a book by Itamar Moses that was both doleful and droll. We fall in love with the characters, almost all of whom harbor an underlying sadness.

My top 10 for 2017 

  2018

The Ferryman

by Jez Butterworth

By the time “The Ferryman” has ended, we have been treated to a breathtaking mix of revenge action thriller, romance, melodrama, family saga, and a feast of storytelling – ghost stories, fairy stories, stories of Irish history and politics, stories of longing and of loss. Jez Butterworth’s play about farmer Quinn Carney and his sprawling, colorful family is rich, sweeping entertainment — epic, tragic….and cinematic. Its underlying themes (such as the wages of hatred) also add heft to what seemed merely to be the most thrilling play of the Broadway season.

  My top 10 for 2018

  Shout out to To Kill A Mockingbird, which I saw the month after I made the 2018 list, and which I didn’t review until recently.

  2019

Hadestown 

What made Hadestown most thrilling when it opened Off-Broadway in 2016 remained when it opened on Broadway this year – the delightful score, which mixes sweet and sexy folk, rocking jazz, and exquisite blues. And there are some improvements, most notably the expansion of the role of Hermes as narrator, performed to perfection by the great André De Shields, who commands the stage from the get-go

  My top 10 for 2019: Hadestown, The Inheritance, Fires in the Mirror, White Noise, Oklahoma!, The Lehman Trilogy, Hamnet, Novenas for a Lost Hospital, and two hybrid theater pieces/pretend museums – The Black History Museum and The Museum of Dead Words

          Top 10 New York Theater of the Decade to Be Grateful For As 2019 is coming to an end, leaving many of us worn down , it might be more rewarding to express gratitude for favorite New York shows that opened not just this year but for the decade as a whole.

[newyorkisartsyfartsy]

An Ode to Development

Artists and fans alike are able to be shaped by the music they create and listen to.

By Camryn Smithwick

Question #1

JUSTIN BIEBER WANNABE

A copy-cat of an already despised artist grows up, having explored his sexuality and music niche.

Generic lyrics, whiny voice and with an overly pop artist sound made my ten year old self cringe. Never finding myself on the Justin Bieber bandwagon, it was irritating, to say the least, when another came along. Greyson Chance was a sickeningly sweet prepubescent thirteen year old boy with a sweeping bowl cut and a powerful girly voice. After a video of him singing Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi” at his sixth grade talent show went viral with over 60 million views on YouTube, Greyson became a heartthrob. The video featured Greyson on  a piano, centerstage, singing his heart out while girls in the background can be spotted whispering to each other, their eyes widened in disbelief, mouths widened with that dreamy eyed look. His career ignited when Ellen feature him on her show, although not necessarily positively. Having taken a similar path, voice and style to Justin Bieber lead to much criticism.

Although highly talented, this thirteen year old was no reason to faint over. With lyrics the caliber of his age - ballads professing his love to girls although having clearly never been in a relationship, with peppy, happy-go-lucky melodies that make you vomit into your mouth a little. Songs titled “Sunshine and City lights”, “Leila”, and “You Might be the One” made me roll my eyes, even at ten years old. In his debut “Paparazzi” cover, he changed the words “boy” to “girl”, it is now apparent his sexuality was insecurity at that age. The hair-flipping, pre-teen with lyrics, “please don’t break my heart Cheyenne” was an artist I wanted nothing to be a part of.

Greyson has since grown up (as have I) coming out as gay in the middle of 2018, writing a song about getting high and his journey to becoming twenty-one. His new music has strayed from the pop, fangirl demographic he grew big on, following more of an indie, low-key vibe, his raspy and significantly deeper voice sending chills up and down your spine. Looking back now, his music was a suppression of his sexuality which he has now thankfully been able to accept, becoming the artist, and person, he was supposed to be. The music video for his recent song “Good as Gold” shows one of the most impoverished cities in the United States, the Lakota tribe in Pine Ridge, a community crippled by suicide, genocide and are constantly faced with the threat of losing their culture forever. Growing up with an artist, being able to see a one hundred and eighty degree character shift has inspired me to look constantly within myself for personal growth. The boy so annoyingly innocent has transformed into one of my current favorite artists whose music I proudly play for those who say “isn’t he that Justin Bieber wannabe” when I mention his name.

Question #2

THE QUEEN LIVES ON

Postmortem, Freddie Mercury’s easily recognizable voice and story continue to inspire and take listeners on a whole new experience.

Belting incoherencies that envelope an opera-esque sound is an occurrence that people around the world oddly share. “Queen” is a rock band that has transcended generations, with lyrics of needing love and songs that take you on a journey. Queen has been one of my favorite bands since I was a little girl, seeing the way my dad would enthusiastically play the drums on the car steering wheel and belt his heart out each time one of their songs came on the radio (pretending he wasn’t tone deaf and had any sort of rhythm). Now close to ten years later, almost every car ride we jam out to these same songs together, air guitars, fake microphones and all.

Freddie Mercury was the pinnacle of Queen, his iconic huge jaw and buck teeth gave extra room to his vocal cords, allowing him the unimaginable range that give his tracks another level of storyline. The passion he had for expression gave each song an original sound that was recorded to perfection. By layering multiple tracks and sounds that alternate ears added an unprecedented experience to listening to music. On stage, Freddie was an outstanding performer, his creative outfits and wildly enthusiastic energy were able to transfix the audience, and often make the concert collaborative with them. While performing hit, “We Will Rock You”, at LIVE AID charity concert,  Freddie was able to get the entire Wembley Stadium (100,000 people) in England to stamp and clap along with the song. People across the world have celebrated Freddie Mercury’s musical genius since his life, the Queen spotify account continues to display outstanding statistics, with over thirty-two million average listeners monthly.

Throughout high school, “Bohemian Rhapsody” was an anthem my friends and I would use to alleviate stress and brighten dark times, screaming the lyrics walking through the hallways to class. The movie sharing the same title which was released this year, rekindled old friendships as we all went to the movies to watch a story of life of the man we had bonded over, and have spent countless hours listening to. The catchy upbeat songs have allowed numerous relationships to prosper throughout my life and continue to inspire originality everyday.

Although Freddie Mercury died a tragic young death due to AIDS, his music has been frozen in time, most likely what would have been at the highlight of his career. His albums have become that much more meaningful and celebrated even so long after their release. Freddie was able to creatively outlet his relationship and health struggles in ways that transformed music history. As one of the first stars to die of AIDS, he was able to massively make strides in reducing the stigma around the disease and was able to raise $127 million to help people. Freddie Mercury continues to inspire originality and creativity in me due to his unprecedented career.

Fun (but serious) #1

READING A BOOK BY FIRE

“World on Fire” by Ashe and Louis the Child carries a soft melody that puts the listener in a trance. With a low tempo beat and a females’ soothing voice, the song almost guarantees to soothe you into a deep sleep. Listening to this song reminds me of staying home on a rainy day, on the couch with a novel, hot chocolate and fuzzy blanket. The music creates the feeling of warmth and satisfaction, so the song is perfectly titled. As a relatively new artist, and having seen her live, Ashe has opened my eyes to new music that have almost supernatural relaxing powers that relieve event the largest muscle knots. The jazzy sort of piano throughout the background at the end takes you to a cafe in France where people have no cares in the world. The lyrics also add to this, the chorus “the world could be on fire and we wouldn’t know” shows the carelessness that the artists successfully imposes on the listener.

Fun (but serious) #2

TAYLOR SWIFT AND BILLY JOEL

My “Let’s Get Acquainted” worksheet from the beginning of class is telling of the journey I have experienced in my first semester at college. Dropped off alone in Manhattan, forced to take on all the independence imaginable I was still very much in my sister’s shadow. “My music taste” was influenced by my older sister as I repeatedly stated on the sheet. The past few months were what I needed to explore my own tastes and venture out on my own in the world of the arts. Choosing to leave my comfort zone and take on concerts, museums, and musicals alone have allowed me to establish my own likes in the arts, thankfully facilitated by this class. Being forced to have an original opinion has turned the Billy Joel and Taylor Swift loving girl to one who spends hours searching for hidden artists on Spotify and $10 weeknight shows in the back of bars.

[characteresque]

It were as if I were the good and then there were the 'everyone else'. 

If William Hall had any advice for his students, young or old, it would be short and to-the-point: life doesn’t turn out the way you think it will. Even self-made millionaires and their snobby children with golden-laid paths in front of them will experience deviations from The Plan, and in one way or another, every winding road leads to a new destination.

Will was a happy child born in the in the early 80’s to a very stable home. His room was filled with plastic Star Wars figurines and Star Trek “The Final Frontier” posters above his bed, even a jar labeled “Will’s Nintendo Fund” filled with quarters adorned his messy dresser. He was a nerd, self-proclaimed and teased, and being the son of the high school principal didn’t earn him any brownie points. His older brother and sister, both sports-minded and sociable, only seemed to mind Will’s presence in the company of…well…anyone. So, Will was alone to delve into his fascination with all things dork: and delve he did.

During middle school, Will put the final nail in his popularity coffin as he skipped lunch and traversed the library shelves for some new friends. Out of curiosity, he lugged home a large (and disappointingly unused) book about mass migration from eastern Europe to the Americas – and William Hall’s deep love for history blossomed. He made fast friends with the librarian that summer, and due the unpopularity of the non-fiction historical section, Will had the freedom to take home as many books from the shelves as he pleased. As high school approached and the looming reality that his father would be his principal (and everyone would know it), Will had finally found his niche.

It’s a shame that things could only get more complicated from there.

Will founded the Historical Insights Club, with the pull of his father, and after school on Wednesdays – for just one shining afternoon – Will felt listened to and appreciated. He got a rush from teaching the other students, and as he graduated, Will knew: he wanted to be a teacher. But there’s a complicated dilemma to this story: being a gay teacher in the early turn of the millennium isn’t as fun, nor as easy as it is today.

Will graduated with honors and quickly sped through college, his eyes on the prize. Boyfriends rotated through the seasons of his life, but during the last two years of his bachelor’s degree Will fell hard for a man in California by the name of Terrell Evans. William Hall packed up his life in Iowa and moved in with his long-term boyfriend in 2004, shortly after he scored his Bachelor of History. His parents were shocked at his coming out, but his brother and sister were not: Will worked hard to re-establish his relationship with his family as his dedication to Terrell loomed closer. The couple struggled until Will finally landed a 9th grade history teaching job at a lower-income school on the other side of town – money was never rolling in, but they made ends meet. Marriage wasn’t an option for Will, something he detested. There didn’t seem to be any hints toward marriage equality, even in the liberal state he had moved to…even though, the two had a small ceremony to celebrate their lives together. Will called it a wedding, and was overjoyed to see that his family would attend.

Things were going great for Will. He taught happily for a handful of years, eventually moving to a high school with an advanced-placement history course as he continued his education. Four years later, Will became Dr. William Hall and his ambition drove him higher up the education ladder to seek college teaching positions – or, at least he would have. Five years into their partnership, countless thousands of dollars of student debt and struggle, Will found it harder and harder to make it to class each day. That winter, a major flu took over the household and both Terrell and Will passed the infection to one another. Headaches, pains, fevers, coughs and sore throats – the typical wintertime faire – but it seemed as if they were the only two in the world who could get a gross flu outbreak in the tepid California winters. Terrell seemed to clear up after a few days, but for Will, it took six weeks of chicken soup before he finally broke down to visit a doctor.

Will walked into that clinic expecting a prescription of antibiotics, maybe a shot at the most extreme: but what he got instead was a very odd visit from his primary care doctor after Terrell left the room. His doctor urged Will for an HIV test, and the battle began. Was this because he was homosexual? The annoyance grew with every passing minute. This was precisely why he left Iowa, and the initial suggestion of an STD panel met extreme resistance from the young teacher. Will insisted that he got tested just before their courtship, he’d only had one sexual partner since that day. There’s no way he wanted the test, and so Will walked into the waiting room with his prescription of antibiotics just as he expected. He waited for Terrell, his arms crossed rebelliously. When Terrell walked out of that lab room with a bright blue bandage around his elbow, Will came unglued. How dare that doctor test him for a disease he didn’t have! But Terrell just laughed in his dismissive, good-natured way and the two went home to heal from their superbug.

When Terrell sat Will down for dinner two weeks later, life seemed to be getting back to normal. Terrell certainly felt better, and Will was hoping he’d be shortly behind. But this dinner would mark the beginning of a long line of suffering for Will: because Terrell had a terrible secret.

He’d been cheating.

And what’s more, he was HIV positive. He had been for at least three years now.

So, in other words: he knew. Terrell knew and he did nothing for his boyfriend.

Will fell apart. His entire life seemed to be a path, albeit a bit bumpy, straight to everything he’d ever wanted. He wanted to be a cool professor with hundreds of students who loved history, a speaker for middle school-aged kids who were interested in scholarly things just as he had been. Will wanted to be that teacher for young dorks that he had pined for: a friend. He’d teach the passionate young people during the day, and mentor the young ones after school: he’d be the shining beacon of knowledge and he’d be adored for the qualities that made his own younger years such hell. He wanted these things so badly it hurt, and yet, here he was, 25 years old with a death sentence and a deceitful sham of a non-marriage.

He went directly to his doctor the next morning, Terrell staying with his younger sister for the time being. Will had the apartment all to himself, surrounded by the memories of a person he never even knew. The results of his HIV test didn’t surprise him, but it certainly made concrete to Will that his life was over.

Will wanted that moment of confrontation with Terrell. He planned and schemed and knew exactly what he wanted to say to him after all he’d put him through. He wanted to tear the man down and make him feel just as insignificant as Will felt: nothing. But when Will and Terrell finally met again to talk it out, to finally bring up that ugly and fearful B-word – Will knew he couldn’t do it.

Terrell looked awful and his descent was fairly fast. He hadn’t treated his HIV infection for the years he’d been cheating on Will, and the stress of the failing relationship did nothing to help him. Will saw Terrell falling down a slippery slope, and while the two rifled through bank statements and bills to separate the names…Will got sucked back in. It was never the same, and Will’s distrust of Terrell made it clear that the two would be tragically platonic in a way. Will struggled to find a college teaching position from 2009 to 2013 as he cared for Terrell, their combined mounting medical bills deepening the rift between them. But Terrell never truly recovered, the fight inside of him seemed to die after their non-breakup. He forgot his medications and took mediocre care of himself, and Will’s patience for the man who ruined his life was unconditional but beginning to waver. Terrell could sense this – which lead to more arguments and more drama. Looking back, Will feels guilty for staying there for Terrell: maybe if he had left at the beginning, Terrell wouldn’t have died.

Will was there for Terrell every step of the way. The good moments were peaceful and the bad moments were terrible, but he never left. It earned him only the scorn of Terrell’s family who hated Will for making their son’s last years so turbulent despite his mistakes, and the disgust of his own family for staying with a man who clearly cared so little for him. And, suddenly without Terrell, Will found himself utterly alone.

This darkest chapter of Will’s life lead to some irresponsible decisions. He’d lost his zeal for life, something that was a cornerstone of his inner character. He needed a change, and he sure got one: during the summer of 2013 while the dirt over Terrell’s grave was still loose, William Hall once again packed up his life and hit the road. This time, he had no objective. He tried to pretend he was a teenager again, a young Luke Skywalker in search of his Obi-Wan. As the miles rolled behind him, each new state brought him more and more freedom. It got colder and more sparse the further east he went, and Will found himself drawn northward. Finally, three weeks before the start of a new school year, Will rolled into a sleepy little Maine town with a trunk full of medications and a renewed sense of hope.

This’ll do.

Will had sold most of his possessions in California to fund his three month soul journey, and the last thing to his name was the small slate gray car he’d picked out with Terrell from the used car lot downtown. It was bittersweet to sell the little car, but the money it brought afforded the hopeful man a studio apartment next to a small community college downtown. Technically, he lived in a popular student area…but there’s no way he was blending in. It occurred to Will that, for the first time in his life, he truly felt so old.

Will’s luck can’t be described as all bad this year, though. The college greedily took Will on as two weeks before, one of their professors took an extended leave of absence following a rocky divorce. He was underpaid and given the courses to fill that no other history teacher would touch with a ten-foot pole: but to Will, this was a new start. He poured his renewed energy into his job, and bought himself a bike.

The best part of teaching, for Will at least, is the constant flow of new information. Not just scholarly information, either. The second chapter of Will’s life begins with the realization that his life was in fact not over, and the prognosis for HIV positive people wasn’t what he’d expected after the AIDs scare he’d been introduced to as a kid. He was a young, handsome, gay teacher with a stable job, and it’s time to heal.

Will began paying off his student loans and medical bills one at a time, his meager income affording him some small luxuries such as the occasional date. For a few years he floundered around the dating scene, but his completely upfront nature cost him greatly. After what Terrell did, keeping silent about his HIV was not an option: but it certainly complicated his dating activities. Will must have gone on about sixty dates with many different men before realizing maybe…this was just his life now. He’d all but exhausted his pool of dating partners, as most of the people who lived in his immediate area were either decidedly not gay or, even worse, they were college students.

Well, maybe that wasn’t all bad to Will. After all, Terrell had been nine years older and their relationship would have been perfect. Will casually dated a student for the first time sometime in 2014 – and it was all downhill from there. Will found himself attracted to the danger, now 29 years old and feeling a huge degree higher in maturity to his students who usually ranged about 23. There was something intoxicating about the ability to teach and protect even in a romantic sense; and Will’s once narrow dating pool expanded greatly. They made him feel young. There were some weak moments that Will even invited his own students to his office just for a chance at a movie date: some students took the bait, others ran for the hills. It was all very casual, very fun: maybe if he felt more serious about a date, he’d offer up the dark smudge on his history and hope they’d feel comfortable to make out afterwards.

Most didn’t.

Will’s HIV treatments were working wonders on his body. He lived a very healthy life with a predictable routine. He’d caught the infection early and the medication only seemed to improve as the years went on. It had gotten to the point that Will’s frustration stemmed only from not finding a long-term partner three years after the death of his boyfriend, and after gay marriage had finally been legalized! It dangled in front of his eyes like a spinning fish on a hook, the one thing he thought he could never have finally available to him but no one to share it with.

Will wasn’t looking for marriage the night he logged on to craigslist for a young man to spend his evening with, though. It was cold and the thought of spending the afternoon with someone to cuddle with, paid or not, was too much for him. But the chain of events that Will would unintentionally set into motion that very night would be unlike any of the others in his life, the winding path with side-roads and potholes that he’d experienced so far seeming like a highway express lane.

No, life rarely turns out the way you’d want it to. Just ask any person their story, and you’ll hear it over and over again in various ways: it just didn’t work out. But, sometimes, and for a lucky few – it can turn out better. Thank god for Will that he finds his sweet religion after all.

Read More

[coffeesforfuckers]

Oh, The Stupid Things I Do For A Stupid Man Called You // Brallon

Pairing: Brallon Summary: Falling in love happens in strange ways. You could fall in love at first sight and know right away or not realize until years later, or possibly not until it's too late. Dallon Weekes doesn't know what love is, what it feels like, tastes like, looks like... Love is doing all the stupid things for the person you are in love with. Brendon Urie is just a kid who needs to grow the hell up and do something with himself. He can't dance, he can't do mat good enough, he can't make friends and can't get a date. He just can't be a normal person, can't be himself. He can't figure out how to fall in love either. As Dallon runs into this kid so much like him, he just can't help but protect him by staying away. But not for too long. This is the story of two people finding out what love really is without even realizing there's even any there. Word Count: 4,664

Oh, the stupid things you do for the things you love. And I, Dallon Weekes am the dumbest of them all.

It was prom night, supposedly the most memorable night of your life or some bullshit like that. They'd hired a shit band in an equally as shit dance hall, my band was better than this and all I did was bumble around the stage like the awkward, tall guy I am and yell into a microphone. If you couldn't do better than that then you really needed to stop.

I couldn't really dance without another person, I had gone to dance lessons for a few months for a wedding surprise to my mom. She'd married David, my step-dad who was pretty cool and I was going to be doing a mother/son dance with her and I wanted to surprise her. She was surprised and all but I've never needed them again as I didn't dance much, especially with girls or any other people for that matter.

Also it was hard to find a prom date when you look like me. A tall, weird, emo guy with a shit hair-cut, I mean, I would be turned off too if it were me.

I'm stood off to the side, just watching as mostly everybody had fun with their friends and dates, both of which I lacked. I had 'friends' but they all had better friends of their own. Not that I blamed them either. I wasn't the ideal pick for a friend either.

I was weird and band obsessed, I mostly liked to talk music as that was what I knew but none of my friends liked that stuff. My actual friends who were in my band with me were from a different town and couldn't attend the dance without a date and it would be hard to say all four of these guys were my dates.

I notice a boy, probably around my age, alone on the other end of the dance hall. I decide to go join him.

"Hey!" I yell over the music and he glances over at me as I lean against the wall next to him, I towered over him, "Why aren't you dancing with the ladies!?" I call and he half-smiles.

"Girls don't like me!" He laughs, "I also can't dance!" He shrugs.

"Look, attending prom without knowing how to dance is tragic. I just can't let you face that humiliation."

"Thanks?" He speaks as I extend my hands out to him. I wasn't quite sure why I was offering to help this awkward looking kid but I just had to.

A small smile plays at my lips, "Don't worry, I'm a good teacher... Everyone says so." I tell him and he hesitantly takes my hands. I didn't even think of the backlash we'd get for this at the time.

He stifles a laugh as I dramatically pull him towards me, I truly was a drama queen and I knew it. I can tell he wants to show off to me but he can't, "Just follow my lead." I chuckle, the song was more fast paced than I hoped but I could pull it off, I step back and he steps towards me, I shuffle along to the side in a tango-like motion, holding his hands out before us. I bring our arms up in the air and spin, my arm firmly around his waist and his around mine loosely.

I tip him back and lean in closer to him myself, our faces too close for complete strangers but neither of us seemed to mind at all in reality. I sweep him off his feet and flip him, he lands it perfectly one hand still holding mine and I spin him into my arms, his back to my chest. He twirls out of my grip, releasing my hand halfway through the spin, stopping and doing a full on backflip and landing about a foot in front of me, his eyes, locked on mine as his arms extend towards me, they were crossed and I take them, my arms crossed as well, pulling him into me, his body crashes into mine and I shove him back, releasing one hand and twirling him around, tugging him back into me.

I dip him just as the song ends, both of us panting heavily. Neither of us realized that quite a lot of people had gathered to watch.

"You said you couldn't dance." I cough.

"I can't without another person."

***

I never thought that teaching that lonely kid at the prom how to dance could end badly. That was until people started the gay rumors. Everything went from already pretty bad to worse in less than a day.

"Hey fucker! Wanna dance with me?" A kid teases, "You probably want to fuck me huh? I'm so out of your league anyway. Aren't we all out of your league? Even that giant faggot, Dallon is better looking than you." I can hear from around the corner. I pick up my pace and find the kid I danced with, he's shoved up against the lockers by some guy barely taller than him.

"Yo, can you shut the fuck up and stop bothering him?" I shout, then noticing that the boy was in tears and he seemed to have been beaten up pretty badly and definitely more than once. I felt so unbelievably bad now.

The guy drops him and he lands on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as a defence. He looked so afraid, "If you want to beat up on anybody, beat up on me. I told him that I was into him at the dance and he shot me down 'cause he doesn't swing that way and he agreed to dance with me, to make me happy. If you want to push anybody around for being gay or bi, or anything of the sort, then beat me up over it." I speak and watch as the boy looks up at me in awe at what I'd just done.

"You can fight back, he can't." The guy shrugs at me.

"Yeah but he's not the faggot, I am, right? So you should be beating me up and apologizing to him." I demand, "I won't fight back if you just fuck off and leave other people out of it." The guy nods.

"After class. I'm late." He turns and stomps off down the hall. I help the boy off the floor and he looks up at me with shaky, honey-brown eyes. I sigh and give him a hug.

"I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to get you in trouble for anything." I say as I pull back and he shakes his head.

"I had fun. You made my night great. Don't apologize... Thank you for everything you've done for me, Dallon." He smiles sadly.

"Don't thank me, it was my fault so I'll take the blame. Plus most people are too afraid to fight me anyway." I ruffle his hair, "You got beat up and it's my fault."

"Don't worry about it. My name's Brendon by the way." He speaks, "I'm sorry to cut this short and all, I just need to get to class... Thank's again."

"I should go too. No problem, Brendon. See you around."

I only now noticed how cute and small he was.

***

It's almost spring. I graduated two years ago after spending three years being beaten mercilessly for being 'gay'. It was worth it to help someone else out. I was waiting for a crosswalk light to turn green, my earbuds shoved deep into my ears and music blaring so loud that I was probably going to be deaf by the end of the day. I'm bobbing my head to the beat of the song and mumbling the lyrics to myself.

I love music so much.

I notice a guy step out of a store across the street. He's holding a couple bags. It seems like he'd been shopping all day. The sun was setting and I was just ready to go home after a long day of band stuff.

The guy steps up to the curb, looking both ways before starting to cross the street. A car speeds around the corner just as he gets to the middle line and instead of doing the smart thing and going back to the side of the street he came from, he bolts across, narrowly avoiding the car but tripping over himself in the process and landing at my feet. I chuckle, pulling out an earbud and reaching an arm down to him.

"You okay, man?" I ask and he staggers to a seated position, looking up at me, his nose is bleeding.

He takes my hand and I pull him up easily, "Thanks, I'm fine." He gives a breathy chuckle.

"Your nose is bleeding." I point out and his hand flies up to his face, running his finger under his nose and looking at his hand.

"Oh shit, you're right." He mumbles, going to put his white sleeve to it but I catch his hand.

"Here, don't ruin your shirt." I pull a black cloth out of my pocket, I use them at practice to wipe sweat off my forehead but this one was brand new and never used thankfully.

"You sure?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's just a rag." I shrug and he places it to his nose. He takes it away only a moment after and glances at it, squinting at it for a second and looking up at me with wide eyes, just as he did so I knew who this man was.

Those honey-brown eyes.

"Dallon Weekes? Like the kid from high school?" He says in awe.

"Brendon?" I say and he nods excitedly.

"My last name is Urie if you never knew that." He smiles at me. He grabs my arm and pulls a sharpie out of one of his bags and pops the cap off, scribbling his name and number onto my skin.

"Hit me up sometime, I've gotta be home for a family thing in like ten minutes." He says and goes to hand the cloth back to me.

"Keep it." I insist.

"How about I keep it and you call me when you want it back?" He laughs starting to jog off in the opposite direction, "Actually! Just call me!" He shouts over his shoulder.

"I will!" I yell back with a laugh.

I called him later that night.

***

"You want me to dress up like a girl for the whole night so your parents think you have a girlfriend?" I say in shock, "I'm like five stories taller than you and don't have boobs, nor do I look like a girl."

"Fuck you... And you'd be surprised at what I can do, now go tuck and tape." He points to the bathroom. I can't believe I'm actually fucking doing this.

I look at Brendon unamused as he tugs the wig onto my head, I hated him sometimes. He'd put a fuck-ton of makeup on me and was fixing up some fake boobage for me right after he got the wig on.

"You better appreciate me." I huff.

"I do." He kisses my cheek dramatically, "I love you Dally!" He squeals in a girly voice.

"Brendon, my balls are somewhere inside of me right now and my dick is almost up my own ass." I say and he breaks down into hysterical laughter.

"Impressive Dal!" He chokes.

"Your dick will be up your ass if you don't shut the hell up." I roll my eyes as he fixes the bra around me that has gel pads sewed into it.

"Oh please, it would be one hell of an experience." He winks and I give him a furrowed look.

"Are you saying you want to be fucked in the ass ?"

He laughs, "No, dumbass, and that's not lady-like to say, Darline ." He smirks at me and I shoot daggers at him, "Let me hear you're pretty voice, baby." Brendon taunts.

"I'm going to cut your dick off in your sleep." I speak in the best 'girl voice' I could muster.

"Sexy." He chuckles and smacks me on the arm, "Please be more ladylike around my family." He requests from me but he would be lucky if I didn't murder him halfway through the evening.

\\\

I can't believe what I'd do for this stupid boy. I stumble over myself in the tight heels Brendon insisted I wear and struggle to breathe in this constricting dress that Brendon picked out for me.

Being a girl must suck.

I don't see the appeal.

"If your parents can't tell from looks then they'll be able to tell from the way I walk in these heels." I speak in that stupid high-pitched tone.

"Most girls can't walk in heels anyway, Dal." He retorts, "You could just be more of a tomboy, who knows?" He smiles, "Make up a character for yourself and I'll play along."

"Okay, cool."

We get to the door of his parent's house and he tosses the door open, "I'm here!" He shouts like the diva he is, having to make an entrance everywhere we went.

"Brendon!" His mother grabs him into a hug, he looks just like her.

"Mom, this is my girlfriend, Da-Darline." He smiles as he looks over at me, it's an overly, too-genuine smile.

"Jesus... Brendon she's so tall." She looks me up and down before stepping closer, extending her hand out to me, I take it, "I'm Grace."

"I'm Darline." I nod and she still seems puzzled by me.

She drops my hand and takes Brendon to the side, I can still hear her talking either way, "Brendon, she's so manly, her hands are massive and tough and even her face is kind of manly! What do you see in her?" I can see Brendon is pissed but I don't quite get why.

"You can't just insult someone for how they look! It's not like h-, she can help it!" He snaps and even I flinch, not quite expecting an outburst like that. I've known him for ages and yes, he does tend to be a little over dramatic but he was really pushing it when it comes to dramatic right now.

"Bren, it's okay." I speak up and he turns to look at me, he seems shook up.

"No, it's not!" He shouts back at me.

"Chill, it's okay... Babe." I say unsure of my words.

He huffs and shakes his head. The night goes on like this, Brendon flipping out every time his mom said anything remotely rude about me looking weird or anything of the sort. It was sweet and all but I didn't really need him to defend me all the time, like I knew I was an ugly-ass girl, I was a manly looking guy and could never pull off being a girl. Nor that I would ever want to be after all this.

We went home early.

***

Brendon had invited me to dinner to celebrate the success of the album for the band of his that I had joined not long after my band took a break. We were nowhere near popular in any sense of the word, yet we were still more popular than my old band.

We were about done with our meal when Brendon goes to get his wallet and he goes pale, looking at me, "Don't tell me..." I say, looking back at him horrified.

"Please tell me you brought your wallet." Brendon practically begs.

"You said not to!" I defend and his eyes go wide, shit . He starts to fumble with his hands and he grabs my hand, placing something in it.

"You should totally pretend to propose to me," Brendon says, "We can see if someone in the restaurant gives us our meals for free, they usually will. People love it when stuff like that happens."

My stomach flipped and my eyes went wide, I look him over in his stupid jacket and sunglasses pushed up in his hair, showing off his huge forehead. I suddenly notice my trembling hands, I'm no longer hungry either. I felt like I was actually proposing... Why the fuck did I suddenly get so worked up over it? I'm confused and not thinking straight at this point, "Why am I the one proposing? You do it. It was your idea. You're the dumbass that lost their wallet."

"Dallon, come on, please. You're the manlier one here. You gotta do it." He pleads and I relent. Stupid me with my trembling hands and heart in my throat.

"Fine..." I mutter, "Fine..." I sigh and clear my throat, rubbing at the back of my neck. What the fuck was with this sudden rush of anxiety?

Brendon leans forward in his chair and grabs my hand and I suck in a sharp breath, I'm so jumpy. Damn it. I push out the breath forcefully, I'm sweating pretty bad, almost as if I'm performing. Was I having an allergic reaction to something? Would that be good enough to get our meal for free?

Brendon looks concerned and is about to ask if I'm okay when I finally force myself to speak, "Brendon, you know that I've been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you, it was love at first sight and especially at first dance... You are my best friend in the world and the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thank you for making the past ten years the best ten years of my life, we may have only started dating a few years ago when you were broken over the loss of 'the love of your life'. I swore to never abandon you like he did and I still promise you that so today to seal that promise for good I must ask you, Will you, Brendon Boyd Urie, will you marry me." My voice is shallow as my throat is tight when I slide from my chair to the floor on one knee. I hold Brendon's ring up to him, thankfully it's flashy enough to look like an engagement ring. Brendon looks like he could cry as he nods.

"Yes! Of course, Dallon! Yes! I love you." And it clicks in my head as the words leave his mouth. I'm trembling, I'm in love with Brendon?

I'm in love with Brendon.

He kisses me.

Those feelings are suddenly sealed in stone.

And then I pass out.

\\\

I awake in a hospital bed, Brendon is pacing the room. I groan and sit up, rubbing at my head, Brendon instantaneously looks over at me, letting out a heavy breath.

"Jesus christ, Dallon!" He breathes, "I can't believe you! If you weren't feeling well, why didn't you tell me!?" He scolds.

"I just thought it was nothing, I didn't feel sick." I frown.

"Why didn't you say you were allergic to shellfish!?" He tosses his hands in the air. So it was an allergic reaction.

"I didn't even know, man, I've never had any before." I shrug with a stiff laugh.

"You are a dumbass." He sighs, "Hurry up and get better so we can get you home." I smile sleepily as he steps up to the bed, brushing my hair away from my face, "Get some sleep, I'll stay here tonight." I nod as I drift back to sleep.

***

Tour was always fun, it was so good to be around Brendon, Kenny, Dan and Spencer all the time.

Brendon and I usually shared a room while in hotels while Kenny, Dan and Spencer shared a room. Tonight was a hotel night and man did this fucking bed feel so good. I never wanted to move from it. Brendon was asleep in the bed next to mine we were both catching up on our much needed rest. I somehow couldn't sleep and yet I was still too tired to even move.

Brendon's restless, tossing and turning in his sleep, squirming and whimpering softly. He awakes with a start, shouting and sitting bolt upright in his bed, panting. I jump at the sound of his sudden scream, squinting in the direction of him. I can tell he's shaking.

"Bren?" I yawn and he jumps at first. I flick the lights on and he watches me, "You alright?" I rub my eyes.

"I-... I had a nightmare." He frowns at me and I frown back.

"You think you can sleep?" I ask, Brendon shakes his head and I get up onto my bed, standing, I hold my hands out to him and he starts to laugh. Brendon stands up on his bed. Both of us had the habit of listening to music when we went to sleep so we would be dancing to the actual music, "Take my hands you nit!" I chuckle at him with a huge smile on my face.

"What are you british now or something?" He grins as he jumps across the gap between our beds into my arms and we both tumble back, almost landing onto the floor. We're both giggling and I pull him up, skipping a few songs that were on the playlist we had going until we got to Guillotine by Jon Bellion and I take his hands.

We bounce on the bed, dancing with each other and fumbling everywhere, tripping over the blankets as the tangle around our feet, bumbling all over and falling into each other while laughing pretty hard. He falls into me, holding onto my biceps, giggling up at me, his big, brown eyes shone with tears of happiness. He's leaning into me, heaving for air in between laughter. I know I'm in love with him just watching him like this.

Always so happy.

\\\

We had fallen asleep on my bed, laying together and talking till the early hours of the morning.

I wake up to Brendon making breakfast. Everything in this hotel room resided in one large open area, no doors for separate sleeping quarters or a kitchen area with walls around it. The only other separate room was the bathroom of course. Thanks to the designer of this building as I get to watch Brendon move, the muscles in his back flexing as he dances about, singing to himself softly. His shoulders have tight muscles that somewhat bulge out from under his skin with each move he makes, his spine twists about and the bones poke from his skin. It's so hot, he's so perfectly sculpted.

I can't help but to keep staring at his smooth body, his v line literally gave me the biggest boner. Well all of him did in reality but I mean, his v line is basically a fucking massive arrow pointing to his dick! How could that not arouse me?

I had a bigger thirst for Brendon than all of our fangirls and Ryan Ross combined.

My eyes roll up and down him and my mind is going wild with ideas. My favorite being the one where I pin him to the wall and fuck him from behind while trailing my mouth all along his skin.

Fuck me.

I am so gay for him.

"Dallon?" I hear him say and I almost jump out of my skin.

He caught me.

Abort mission.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" He squints.

"Huh?" Playing dumb was my only option by now, "I just woke up and am not checked in." I rub my eyes.

"You were just staring at me with weird googly-eyes and shit man." He chuckles and I follow suit but it's obviously forced.

"Yeah, I am not in yet, sorry about that, my mind was elsewhere." It wasn't fully a lie.

"Get up and have some eggs." He smiles at me as he gets me a plate of the food he'd just made, completely brushing off my intent staring.

"Thank you."

***

It's so late, so incredibly late but I'm up thinking about him. I craved him with my everything and right now I was reflecting on ever single one of those stupid things I did for him. The stupid shit I do for love and I am still a complete dipshit like I was back in high school.

After all these years, nothing has changed. I do it all for him, from getting my ass kicked to protect him to holding him when he has a bad dream, from dressing like a woman to stealing weed for him, from writing songs about him to fake proposing. So many things, stupid, stupid things because when you're in love, if the person you love is happy you'll stay miserable to keep them happy. But with him I've never been miserable.

I think of everything we've done together, everything we've been through. He's helped me through a lot of shit and I've done the same for him.

I'm sitting up on my bed, my eyes so tired that they're drooping and heavy. I run a hand up one of my arms, my skin is cool to the touch, I then brush my hair out of my face and to the side. I scratch at my side and shift in the bed. The old wood creaks every time I move. I can hear Brendon breathing heavily with sleep and the soft music in the background.

My body sways tiredly. I hear Brendon's bed creak as he shifts in his sleep, or so I think.

"Dal?" His voice rasps, croaking sleepily.

I yawn and scratch my thigh, "Bren?"

"Why are you still up?" He mumbles, half awake.

"I could ask you the same." I retort.

"I just woke up and rolled over and noticed you were still up." He shifts to hold himself up on his elbow, "Now, why are you still up?" He demands.

"Can't sleep, thinking." I shrug as if it's nothing.

"What about?" He coos.

"Just, uh..." I hum, "Trying to decide if this thing I did was incredibly stupid, or..." My voice trails off into the thick night air.

"What happened?" Brendon tilts his head, "What did you do?"

"Well..." I sigh as my sleepy mind wanders, "I... Fell in love with you."

The room falls into a gentle silence again other than the music and breathing and I just assume that he'd dozed off or not heard me. I fall back onto my bed and close my eyes in defeat.

I lay there for a while just contemplating life and what love really was when I felt the bed dip next to me and the covers shift. A gentle hand brushes over my skin and rests on the side of my neck, fingers playing with the small wisps of hair at the nape of it. I can feel the familiar soft lips of Brendon's press to my jawline just near my ear.

"You've done a lot of stupid stuff for me, Dallon but I promise you that this right here, won't be one of those things." He whispers into my ear and his warm breath washes over my skin, sending a chill up my spine.

My head falls to the side and my nose hits Brendon's by mistake, our lips brushing momentarily.

"I'm in love with you." I say again.

"I think I might just be in love with you too, Dal."

And we kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

My world feels okay, it's finally whole.

My fingers lace within his and he wraps his legs around my body, his free hand playing with my hair, "I think this was love at first sight." I tell him against his lips.

"I agree with you there." He hums on my mouth.

Oh, the stupid things you do for the things you love.

And I, Dallon Weekes may be the dumbest one of them all, but I know I sure as hell am the luckiest as well.