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kaleidodreams · 26 days ago

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Updated 100 Memorable Skating Programs

Back in 2018, I created the original version of this list. (You can find the master post here.) Since 2024 marks my 30th year as an official fan of figure skating and there have been some more great programs created since the last time, I thought it was about time to update the list in honor of World Ice Skating Day. Same rules apply as last time:

Only senior competitive programs starting from the 1993-1994 season are eligible, since that's the first season I really started watching figure skating.

Each skater may only be listed once, unless a partner/discipline switch is involved.

Choice of music may also not be repeated. (Yes, there are two James Bond programs on the list, but Yuna and Wakaba use different music for the most part, so I'm letting it slide.)

I debated long and hard about whether or not I should still include programs from skaters who have proven themselves to be not so great people. I'm someone who has little difficulty separating the art from the artist, so in the end, I decided to keep them listed (although most of them got knocked down a few pegs). This list is more about the choreography than the skater anyway, although there are certainly some problematic choreographers out there, too. (Looking at you especially, Morozov!) So, just because a skater is listed doesn't mean that I'm a fan of them or that I condone their actions! I just think certain programs are still great regardless of the skaters' terrible behavior off the ice.

Choreographers are noted if known. If you know who choreographed the programs without a choreographer named, please let me know!

I've also created a handy playlist on YouTube if you don't want to click on all these links.

Ashley Wagner - Moulin Rouge (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2016 Worlds

Jason Brown - Melancholy (Rohene Ward) 2023 Nationals

Patrick Chan - Phantom of the Opera (Lori Nichol) 2011 Canadian Nationals

Kaitlyn Weaver/Andrew Poje -Je suis malade (Pasquale Camerlengo) 2012 Worlds

Meryl Davis/Charlie White - Kajra Re/Silsila Ye Chahat Ka/Dola Re Dola (Marina Zueva, Igor Shpilband, and Anuja Rajendra) 2010 Olympics

Mao Asada - Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 (Tatiana Tarasova) 2014 Olympics

Sui/Han - Rain, In Your Black Eyes (Lori Nichol) 2019 Worlds

Marina Anissina/Gwendal Peizerat - Romeo & Juliet 1998 Olympics

Cain/LeDuc - W.E. (Pasquale Camerlengo) 2022 US Nationals

Daisuke Takahashi - Blues for Klook (Pasquale Camerlengo) 2012 Worlds

Kurt Browning - Casablanca (Sandra Bezic) 1994 Olympics

Michelle Kwan - Salome (Lori Nichol) 1996 Worlds

Alexei Yagudin - Winter (Tatiana Tarasova and Nikolai Morosov) 2002 Olympics

Jamie Sale/David Pelletier - Love Story (Lori Nichol) 2002 Olympics

Jeremy Abbott - Exogenesis (Jeremy Abbott and Yuka Sato) Nationals 2012

Oksana Grishuk/Evgeni Platov - The Feeling Begins 1997 Worlds

Yuzuru Hanyu - Seimei (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2015 Grand Prix Final

Chock/Bates - Egyptian Snake Dance (Marie-France Dubreuil, Ginette Cournoyer, and Sam Chouinard) 2019 Grand Prix Final

Javier Fernandez - Guys and Dolls (David Wilson) 2016 Worlds

Vanessa James/Morgan Cipres - Sound of Silence (John Kerr and Silvia Fontana) 2017 Euros

Evgenia Medvedeva - Anna Karenina (Daniil Gleichengauz) 2018 Olympics

Nathan Chen - Philip Glass medley (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2021 Worlds

Gabriella Papadakis/Guilliame Cizeron - Elegie (Saxon Fraser and Marie-France Dubreuil) 2022 Olympics

Aljona Savchenko/Bruno Massot - La terre vue du ciel (Christopher Dean) 2018 Olympics

Kevin Aymoz - Bolero (Brice Mousset and Kevin Aymoz) 2023 Skate America

Julia Lipnitskaya - Schindler’s List (Ilia Averbukh) 2014 Olympics

Elena Berezhnaya/Anton Sikharulidze - Lady Caliph 2002 Olympics

Yu-na Kim - James Bond medley (David Wilson) 2010 Olympics

Shoma Uno - Buenos Aires Hora Cero (Mihoko Higuchi) 2016 Grand Prix Final

Michal Brezina - The Way You Look Tonight (Jeffrey Buttle) 2016 Skate Canada

Shae-Lynn Bourne/Victor Kraatz - Riverdance 1998 Olympics

Adam Rippon - O/Fly On (Benji Schwimmer) 2016 Trophee de France

Jeffrey Buttle - Bells of Moscow (David Wilson) 2005 Worlds

Piper Gilles/Paul Poirier - Vincent (Carol Lane and Juris Razgulajevs) 2019 Canadian Nationals

Rudy Galindo - Swan Lake (Sharlene Franke) 1996 US Nationals

Sasha Cohen - Malaguena (Tatiana Tarasova) 2004 Worlds

Aljona Savchenko/Robin Szolkowy - Pina (Ingo Steur) 2011 Grand Prix Final

Samantha Cesario - Carmen (Inese Budevica) 2013 Trophee Eric Bompard

Tatsuki Machida - East of Eden (Phillip Mills) 2014 Worlds

Xue Shen/Hongbo Zhao - Turandot (Lea Ann Miller, Renee Roca, and Gorsha Sur) 2003 Worlds

Kaitlin Hawayek/Jean-Luc Baker - Liebestraume (Pasquale Camerlengo) 2018 Nationals

Olga Mikutina - My Nocturnal Serenade (Rostislav Sinicyn) 2023 Europeans

Lu Chen - The Last Emperor (Toller Cranston) 1995 Worlds

Giada Russo - Red Violin (Edoardo de Bernardis) 2016 Europeans

Junhwan Cha - Fate of the Clockmaker/Cloak and Dagger (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2022 Olympics

Han Yan - La La Land (Yuka Sato and Kurt Browning) 2019 Chinese Interclub League

Wakaba Higuchi - Skyfall (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2018 Worlds

Kazuki Tomono - Die Fledermaus (Misha Ge) 2022 Japanese Nationals

Yuma Kagiyama - Believer (Shae-Lynn Bourne) 2024 Worlds

Karen Chen - On Golden Pond (Karen Chen) 2017 Nationals

Maia Shibutani/Alex Shibutani - Coppelia (Marina Zueva and Cheryl Yeager) 2016 Nationals

Yuko Kavaguti/Alexander Smirov - Manfred Symphony (Peter Tchernyshev) 2014 Skate America

Philippe Candeloro - The Three Musketeers (Natacha Dabadie) 1998 Olympics

Alexander Abt - Songs from the Victorious City 1998 Nations Cup

Tessa Virtue/Scott Moir - Prince medley 2017 Worlds

Ekaterina Gordeeva/Sergei Grinkov - Moonlight Sonata (Marina Zueva) 1994 Olympics

Satoko Miyahara - Madama Butterfly (Tom Dickson) 2017 Japanese Nationals

Marjorie Lajoie/Zachary Lagha - The White Crow (Romain Haguenauer and Ginette Cournoyer) 2023 Four Continents

Anjelika Krylova/Oleg Ovsiannikov - Masquerade Waltz 1997 Worlds

Alena Kostornaia - The Departure, November (Daniil Gleikhengauz) 2019 Grand Prix Final

Nelli Zhiganshina/Alexander Gazsi - Two from the Grave (Ilia Averbukh) 2013 Worlds

Ksenia Stolbova/Fedor Klimov - The Man and The Shadow (Nikolai Morozov) 2015 Grand Prix Final

Stephanie Rosenthal - Rockit (Stewart and Christi Sturgeon) 2006 Nationals

Madison Hubbell/Zachary Donohue - Across the Sky, Caught Out In The Rain (Marie-France Dubreuil) 2018 Nationals

Mikhail Kolyada - The Nutcracker (Ilia Averbukh) 2021 Gran Premio d'Italia

Sinead Kerr/John Kerr - The Landing/Turn Around/Gravity of Love (Evgeni Platov) 2008 Worlds

Kaetlyn Osmond - Sous le ciel de Paris, Milord (Lance Vipond) 2016 Grand Prix Final

Carolina Kostner - Ave Maria (Lori Nichol) 2014 Olympics

Karina Manta/Joe Johnson - Sweet Dreams (Christopher Dean) 2019 Nationals

Gracie Gold - Firebird (Lori Nichol) 2016 Nationals

Charlene Guignard/Marco Fabbri - Atonement/Song For A Little Sparrow (Barbara Fusar-Poli and Corrado Giordani) 2022 Europeans

Keegan Messing - Singing in the Rain (Lance Vipond) 2018 Worlds

Elizabeth Punsalan/Jerod Swallow - Astor Piazolla medley (Igor Shpilband) 1998 Olympics

Rika Kihira - A Beautiful Storm (Tom Dickson) 2018 NHK Trophy

Mariah Bell - Chicago (Rohene Ward) 2016 Skate America

Brian Joubert - Rise (Evgeni Platov) 2009 Europeans

Stephane Lambiel - Poeta (Antonio Najarro) 2007 Worlds

Kaori Sakamoto - The Matrix (Benoit Richaud) 2020 NHK Trophy

Akiko Suzuki - O (Pasquale Camerlengo) 2012 NHK Trophy

Qing Pang/Jian Tong - The Impossible Dream (Shae-Lynn Bourne and David Wilson) 2010 Olympics

Takahito Kozuka - Io ci saro (Lori Nichol) 2014 Japanese National

Smart/Diaz - Mask of Zorro 2022 Europeans

Matt Savoie - Ennio Morricone medley (Tom Dickson) 2006 Nationals

Deniss Vasiljevs - Puttin’ On The Ritz (Benoit Richaud) 2016 Worlds

Caroline Green/Michael Parsons - Violin Concerto No.1 Eso Concerto, Clouds, The Mind on the Wind (Elena Novak and Alexei Kiliakov) 2022 Four Continents

Tara Lipinski - The Rainbow (Sandra Bezic) 1998 Olympics

Denis Ten - SOS d'un terrien en détresse (David Wilson) 2017 Shanghai Trophy

Valentina Marchei/Ondrej Hotarek - Tu Vuo Fa L'Americano (Massimo Scali) 2018 Europeans

Krisztina Czako - The Addams Family (Igor Bobrin) 1997 Europeans

Cheng Peng/Yang Jin - My Drag (Lori Nichol) 2016 GPF

Bradie Tennell - Mechanisms, Chronos (Benoit Richaud) 2020 4CC

Evgeny Plushenko - Tribute to Nijinsky 2004 Russian Nationals

Vanessa Gusmeroli - Rats D'Hotel 1999 Worlds

Julianne Seguin/Charlie Bilodeau - Monde Inverse (Shae-Lynn Bourne and Shae Zukiwsky) 2015 Skate America

Isabeau Levito - Dulcea Și Tandra Mea Fiară (Yulia Kuznetsova) 2022 MK John Wilson Trophy

Elizaveta Tuktamysheva - Batwannis Beek/Sandstorm (Tatiana Prokofieva) 2015 Europeans

Kana Muramoto/Daisuke Takahashi - Soran Bushi (Marina Zoueva, Ilia Tkachenko, and Koyo Yanai) 2021 NHK Trophy

Amber Glenn - This Time (Kaitlyn Weaver and Randi Strong) 2024 Lombardia Trophy

Ivan Righini - You Raise Me Up (Ivan Righini) 2016 Europeans

Anna Cappellini/Luca Lanotte - Life is Beautiful (Liudmila Vlasova) 2017 NHK Trophy

#figure skating #world ice skating day #ashley wagner #jason brown #patrick chan #weaver/poje #davis white #mao asada #sui/han #anissina/peizerat #cain/leduc #daisuke takahashi #(and a bunch of others)

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theradicalscrivener · 2 months ago

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The Book of Morgan: "Tiddies" with a "D"

Jeremy insists that dudes have "tids". The "d" is important, but he seems to be fighting a losing battle with his bros. It's time to call in reinforcements - the quiet classmate with the huge leatherbound tome...

[First Chapter] || [Previous Chapter]

This wasn’t the first time that the professor had been late, and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. It was only five minutes past the bell and there was already That Guy reminding the rest of the class that if the professor wasn’t there by the fifteen-minute mark, they were legally allowed to ditch class for the day. Jeremy, however, wasn’t paying any attention to That Guy. He and his pals were already embroiled in a debate.

“For all the time I spend at the gym, you’d think I’d have anything to show for it!” Jeremy whined.

“You look fine to me,” Charlie said.

“You trying to bulk up?” Victor asked.

“I don’t want to get like, yoked, but I wouldn’t say no to a little meat, you know?” Jeremy said, gesturing to his chest.

“So, you want some tits?” Charlie asked.

“Not tits! Pecs!” Jeremy protested.

“Titties,” Victor teased.

“Tid-DEES! With a D! The D is important!” Jeremy corrected.

“The D is very important,” Charlie said playfully. He held up a hand for a fist-bump – a gesture which Victor quickly took him up on.

“Not to sound vain, but… like… I think my ass looks kinda nice.” Jeremy began to explain.

“Agreed,” Charlie said with a whistle. Victor nodded appreciatively as well.

“I just kinda want to round it out with a nice upper body,” Jeremy explained.

“So, tits,” Charlie said with a sage nod.

“Not tits!” Jeremy protested.

“Tits! Tits! Tits!” Charlie and Victor chanted.

“Unbelievable!” Jeremy whined. His two friends were continuing their chant which had garnered a few curious glances from the rest of the class, but Jeremy was trying to tune them out.

Jeremy turned to the guy who was sitting at the desk next to his. The guy was seemingly oblivious to the debate that raged at the next table over. He was staring down into a massive, leatherbound tome as if he was cramming for a final. Jeremy leaned over and tapped the guy on the shoulder.

“Hey. Hey. Poll time,” Jeremy said as he repeatedly tapped the guy’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” Morgan said groggily as he looked up from his book.

“We’re having a… uh… debate. A conversation. A dude with a big chest. That’s not tits, right?” Jeremy asked.

Morgan started at him for a moment and tilted his head to the side slightly as if thinking it over. “Do you want it to be tits?” he asked.

“What? I mean. That’s not what we’re talking about!” Jeremy stammered.

“He wants a fat rack!” Charlie teased.

“Tits! Tits! Tits!” Victor chanted.

“Not tits!” Jeremy shouted.

Morgan eyed the guy up and down and nodded. “You’d look good with them,” he said.

“W-what? T-that’s not what we’re talking about!” Jeremy protested.

“He wants a nice rack to match his fat ass!” Charlie teased.

Morgan eyed Jeremy up and down and then gave a nod of appreciation. “That sounds like a lot of fun!” he said and gave a quick wave of his hand.

“T-that’s not what we’re talking about!” Jeremy protested again, but before he could complain further – or even really process the weird hand motion Morgan had made – the professor came barreling through the door like a whirlwind.

“Ok, class. We’re already ten minutes behind schedule. Get your books out and be ready to learn. We’ll have to go fast to make up for lost time!” The professor announced to the class.

There were audible grumbles throughout the class as the various friend groups broke from their conversations and returned to their seats to begin the class. Charlie and Victor quickly scurried to their assigned seats, leaving Jeremy alone at his desk with only his textbook for company.

The professor quickly settled into the rhythm of the lecture and rattled off facts and figures while occasionally swapping slides on the projector. Meanwhile, Jeremy tried his best to take notes, but he just wasn’t feeling it. His mind kept drifting back to the conversation from earlier. He went to the gym regularly. He did all the chest-based exercises he could think of! Bench presses, flies, pec decks – you name it, he did it, but still, his chest was as flat as a board.

Jeremy’s hand slipped towards his chest and did a quick pass along where his pecs would be. He wasn’t really sure why he did it. He wasn’t even sure if he was fully aware that he had done it. It was some subconscious tick. It was as if something in the back of his mind needed to check and make sure that he was still flatter than Kansas.

Oddly enough… there was a bit of give as his hand brushed across his chest.

Jeremy balked. His brow furrowed as he tried to parse what he was feeling. His chest had a bit of shape to it, but it didn’t feel like firm muscle. It didn’t feel bad, though…

Jeremy glanced around the room to make sure no one else was watching. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like this warranted further study. Once the coast was clear, he slipped a hand under the lower hem of his shirt and tried to discretely get a feel for the bare skin of his now soft chest.

There was definitely mass there. It felt strange and yet somehow natural. He silently chastised himself. Why was he shocked? He should be used to this by now. Some dudes develop breasts. It happens. Fortunately, his were small. They were barely noticeable. His small bosom fit nicely in the palm of his hand almost as if he was trying to use a fleshy computer mouse.

“Is everything alright?” The professor asked, interrupting the lecture mid-slide to address Jeremy.

Everyone in the class turned to stare at Jeremy as he had a hand up his shirt and squeezing his boob.

“Huh? Oh. Just had an itch…” Jeremy murmured awkwardly.

Jeremy pulled his hand out from under his shirt and tried to play it casual, but it was clear that at least a few of his classmates had seen what he was up to. Victor and Charlie in particular were having a laugh at his expense.

“He can’t keep his hands off of them,” Victor said with a chuckle.

“Can you blame him? If I had a rack like that, I’d be playing with them all day!” Charlie cheered.

Jeremy raised a hand to his mouth to form a partition to block the professor’s line of sight to his lips and hissed across the room to his pals, “they aren’t tits!”

“Whatever, dude,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes dramatically for emphasis.

Jeremy grimaced at his pal’s antics, but for the time being, the heat seemed to be off of him. The professor had returned to the lecture, and Charlie and Victor seemed to be making a passable effort to take notes. Jeremy, however, couldn’t focus on the class. His mind kept drifting towards the supple mounds that pressed against the front of his shirt.

Jeremy fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. He should have worn a bigger shirt. What was he thinking wearing this old thing? It was a miracle he got it on in the first place. His boobs were straining so hard against the front that the screen-printed logo was stretched beyond recognition. Not to mention, the pressure on his chest hurt!

Jeremy glanced around the class. There were a few girls in the class, and they all ran the gamut of gland size. There were a few girls with small bumps, and one or two with an impressive rack, but none of them came close to the sweater puppies that Jeremy was sporting. It didn’t even seem right to call them sweater puppies. These were at minimum sweater pit bulls and rapidly approaching great Danes.

The fabric of his shirt strained audibly against the weight of his pair of basketball-sized bazongas. Again, he wondered why he thought he could wear this shirt. His rack was far too large for it! He should just take it off before his jugs burst through like the Kool-Aid man!

Jeremy sat there for a moment and pondered it. Should he just take it off and be done with it? Sure, he was a guy, and guys often went shirtless, but he was in the middle of class! How would he explain it to the professor! ‘Oh, yeah. My fat horkers were getting sweaty and needed some air.’ There was no way the professor would go for that.

While Jeremy ran over the situations in his head, he subconsciously shifted in his seat. His thighs felt cramped in the tiny desk, and that wasn’t entirely due to the size of his ass. His fat cock had chubbed up. Something about feeling his huge boobs straining against his shirt got him hot and bothered. His thick dick strained against the fabric of his shorts. The head of his huge cock poked out past the hem of his pant leg.

Jeremy winced. It was starting to hurt. Why had he worn such tight shorts? Why had he worn such a tight shirt? He should have just skipped it and worn nothing at all! Plenty of other guys around here did it. After guys reach a certain size, they just stop caring about clothes. Jeremy, had been trying to hide from the truth, but it was obvious to anyone that looked at him that he was definitely a hyper guy… Well… it was obvious that he was hyper, but maybe not so obvious that he was a guy.

Jerey couldn’t stand it anymore. His tits hurt! This shirt was a terrible fit, and he needed to be rid of it.

Jeremy reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt and then groaned audibly as he tugged the garment up and over his head. It was tough to get started, but once the shirt went past his rack, the rest was easy.

Jeremy’s huge tits landed with a reverberating thud against the desktop. His massive mammaries were each the size of a watermelon. His rack was so huge that it spilled over the sides of the tiny schoolroom desk.

“Is everything alright back there?” The professor asked.

“Uh… yeah…. Just stretching,” Jeremy replied. He tried his hardest to play it cool, but he felt awkward and exposed, but why? It was common for guys to go topless, and that went double for guys like him who were too huge for clothes to be practical. Although, Jeremy felt a little weird that the side of his pant leg had split while he was straining to pull off his t-shirt. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“We really need to get you a bigger desk… maintenance was supposed to do that weeks ago…” the professor muttered.

Jeremy could feel his face burning bright red. He knew that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed. There were guys that were just huge. It was natural, and he couldn’t help it. The school was supposed to take steps to accommodate students like him, but that didn’t stop it from feeling silly and a bit embarrassing that he was too large for the standard desks.

It wasn’t just his huge tits. His thighs too were too wide for the standard seats, and his huge cock was so fat that folding the desktop over squished down on his dick. It was only thanks to the weight of his enormous tits that the desktop was able to stay closed, but that, of course, meant that there was no available desk space for him to actually use. Honestly, he was better off not using the desk at all.

“Uh… if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll just stand,” Jeremy said.

“Very well,” the professor replied and gestured to a spot at the front of the room next to the podium.

Jeremy glanced around the room. Was there really nowhere else? Not really… the back row of desks were nearly flush with the wall, and the aisles between desks were so narrow that Jeremy’s voluptuous girth tended to smack into the other students whenever he tried to make his way up and down the aisles. Honestly, it was silly that it had taken him this long into the semester to give up on the desk altogether. He should have just started standing the very first day of class when he realized he was too wide for the aisles, let alone the seats!

As Jeremy got up from his seat, the fabric of his over-stuffed shorts caught on the hinge of the folding desktop causing the garment to pull away from his body as he stood. A loud, rending noise split the air as his pants were torn clean from his body leaving him completely nude from ankles to ears.

Jeremy glanced down at his nude form, but all he could see was his tits. His rack was so huge that it filled his entire field of view, but even though his pumpkin-sized boulders blocked his line of sight, he had checked himself out in the mirror plenty of times in the past. He knew what he looked like. He knew he had shapely hips and a big, round, full moon of an ass. He knew that his massive nuts, which were every bit as big as his boobs, now hung down past his knees. He knew that his fat cock, which was almost as big around as his midriff, draped over his massive nuts and dangled towards his ankles – or at least it would if he wasn’t sporting a semi!

Jeremy had to shimmy sideways up the aisle to reach the front of the room. His big, bubbly butt bumped against students on one side and his humongous tits and gigantic, semi-boned cock slapped against students on the other. Jeremy felt a bit embarrassed, but no one seemed to be actively trying to get out of the way. They were all used to this by now.

Eventually, Jeremy reached the front of the class and took his spot next to the podium. The professor gave him a nod and then returned to droning on about whatever topic they were trying to cover today, but Jeremy couldn’t focus. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was standing bare-assed naked in front of the entire class! He shouldn’t feel weird about this! He was pretty much always naked! He was too big for clothes! Yet, despite the knowledge that this should be normal for him, he was leaking like a sieve from multiple spots. His rock-hard cock was of course leaking pre, but his massive milkers also had a steady stream!

Jeremy was so hot and bothered that he wasn’t thinking clearly. All he could think of was how good he felt. His tits in particular were incredibly sensitive. It was as if his nips had the same sensitivity his cock did after an intense climax. The way that milk flowed from them felt a lot like how his softening cock felt as post-climax cum oozed out the tip.

As he stood there basking in the blissful sensations coursing through his cock and tits, a thought crept into his head. What did his milk taste like? Had he really never tried to drink from the tap? How long had it been since they had first developed? Surely, he had to have taken a sip at some point in the past! But he couldn’t recall…

He needed to remedy this.

Jeremy reached down and gripped one of his fat nips in his hand. The swollen nipple was so huge that it was like trying to grip a coke can except that his nip was soft and squishy instead of cold and hard.

A shudder of bliss ran up his spine as he clenched his fist around his nip. His cock gave a lurch of delight causing a spray of pre to arc out over the classroom.

Why did it feel so good? Had it always felt so good? Surely, he must have done this before, right!? There’s no way he’d gone this long without trying to milk his own teat! Still, the novelty of the situation aside, Jeremy needed to know how it tasted.

Jeremy wrapped a hand around each thick, swollen nip. A shudder of arousal coursed through his body as his hands clenched down. His nips were so incredibly sensitive, it was almost as if he was stroking two thick cocks! His nips were so fat that they were as thick as coke cans and nearly as long, but they were far, far softer. The supple, squishy flesh of his nipples felt fantastic in his hands.

As he gave his nips an experimental tug, his cock gave a hard lurch of delight. Pre sprayed from the tip of his fully-boned cock and a thick spurt of warm milk erupted from his teats. The pleasure was nearly overpowering. His entire body shuddered. His head felt fuzzy. His legs felt like rubber. He nearly collapsed right then and there! But he managed to hold it together.

Jeremy took a moment to steady his breathing. He had nearly creamed himself right in front of the class. There were a few of his classmates that were eyeing him intently. They seemed to be enjoying what they saw, but for the most part, his classmates didn’t seem too surprised by his erotic display, and why would they? They had seen this plenty of times before. Guys like him couldn’t help themselves. His huge, fat nuts were constantly churning out spunk. His gigantic, heavy tits were constantly pumping out milk. He had to drain it constantly to keep ahead of it.

Jeremy’s head felt fuzzy, but this time it wasn’t the intensity of his arousal or the haze of hormones. How many times had he done this? It had to be several at this point… and yet… he couldn’t recall what his own milk tasted like. There was no way he had gone this long without trying it out, and yet… the memories just weren’t there.

Jeremy couldn’t generate the brain power to ponder it too hard. He was just too horny, and it wasn’t like it was a problem that couldn’t be solved with a little hard work and dedication.

Jeremy stared down at his huge tits. Either massive mammary was easily the sized of a yoga ball. There was no way he could easily reach his nips to his lips to suck straight from the tap. His tits were just way too large for that, and the thick, spherical shape didn’t lend itself to being able to fold back on itself like he could do with his cock. Still, even though he couldn’t drink straight from the tap, he wasn’t without his tricks.

Jeremy let go of one of his nips. He cupped a hand in front of his tit and gripped his fat nip in his other hand. He shuddered and moaned as he gripped and squeezed and stroked. He was spurting milk almost the second his hand touched the sensitive flesh of his over-stimulated nipple. By the time he began stroking in earnest he was spraying like a firehose.

He grabbed a handful of the warm, thick liquid as best he could. He lifted his cupped palm to his mouth and took a deep drink. It tasted fantastic. It was warm and creamy with just a hint of sweetness. Did girl’s milk taste this good? He couldn’t tell. He hadn’t drunk any since he was an infant, and even then, it may just have been formula.

Jeremy finished his handful of milk and let out a contented sigh. Somehow, drinking his own blend just made him even hornier than before. His cock was as hard as it had ever been, and his nips were even more sensitive than they had been just moments before. He needed more. He needed relief both from his tits and his nuts, and he had just the idea of how to handle both.

He once more reached down and gripped his fat nips. Milk sprayed from his tits as he did so, but he powered through it and didn’t surrender to bliss… not yet anyway.

He pulled his tits aside, giving enough space between his huge horkers to allow his massive, thick rod to stand at its full upright and locked position directly between his two dirty pillows.

Jeremy stared in awe. His cock was so huge that it was almost as thick as his waist. The tip of his dick now stood eye level. When had it gotten so huge?

Even as the question rattled around in his head, he knew how silly it was. It had been that way for ages… and yet… if it was so huge and his tits were so fat, why hadn’t he done this yet?

Whatever the case, there was no time like the present. Jeremy wanted desperately to feel his own fat cock smothered between his two huge tits. Jeremy grabbed a huge handful of supple flesh and mashed his heavy tits together. The warm, soft, supple flesh pressed down around his thick, rigid shaft.

His tits were so huge that they more than filled his hands. They more than filled his arms! The combined mass of his enormous rack was the size of a bean bag couch! He had to use the entirety of his arms just to move the immense mass of his enormous tits up and down along his massive cock.

Jeremy’s entire body shuddered. His dick bucked and lurched with each stroke of his tits along his rigid shaft. It felt so fantastic that he wanted to make it last as long as possible, but he was already drenched, and it wasn’t just sweat. Pre was flowing freely from the tip of his cock like water from a faucet. Milk was spraying from his tits with each stroke and squeeze. There was a standing pool of fluid in the classroom easily up to his ankles of just pre and milk! And yet, things were about to get much messier.

Jeremy moaned and writhed in ecstasy as he put on his lewd show for the entire class. Was the professor still teaching? Or had class been completely put on hold so everyone could soak up Jeremy’s erotic display. Jeremy didn’t know nor could he spare the brainpower to care. All he knew was he was horny as hell and felt like he could blow at any second. He struggled to keep his load down, but his cock felt so fantastic that it was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep from blasting rope all over the desks. This, coupled with his orgasmic sensation of milk erupting from his nipples left him barely hanging on. His whole body trembled. His cock bucked and lurched. His puffed-up cockhead flared further with each lurch.

Jeremy knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. He staggered back and braced himself against the whiteboard. As he did so, a bright light flashed directly in his face. He was now directly in the path of the projector. If he wasn’t the main attraction already, he sure was now. Anyone trying to take notes now had to contend with Jeremy’s big, buxom body blocking the slides.

Jeremy’s body shuddered. His muscles flexed. His nuts tensed. His cock gave one last, hard lurch, and then the shooting began. A huge, thick spurt of cum erupted from his cock like steam from a geyser. He came, again and again. Cum spewed forth from his cock. Milk spewed forth from his tits. All the while, Jeremy was so overloaded with orgasmic bliss that he couldn’t even form a coherent thought. It felt so good. Why did it feel so good? Had it always felt this good? Was this his life now? Cumming from a cock the size of a battering ram and spraying from two coke-can-sized nips with each climax? This was heaven!

All good things come to an end, however, and eventually, even Jeremy’s pumpkin-sized stones had been drained of spunk. Even his tits felt raw from being so thoroughly tapped. His cock gave a few last spurts of cum before it began to steadily droop and soften.

Jeremy’s energy was completely spent. He no longer had the strength to remain upright. His slowly slid down the wall until his bare booty splashed down in the puddle of milk and spunk.

Everything felt so weird. He felt so fantastic that it didn’t seem possible. He was sure he had cum many times in the past, but he didn’t remember the afterglow being so overpowering. He could barely even remember his own name. All he really knew was that he felt fantastic. The last bits of cum seeped out the tip of his softening cock. Milk dribbled from his thick nips. His whole body felt so sensitive that even the air from the AC tickled him like feathers.

As Jeremy sat there at the front of class, he slowly became aware of movement from the seats. Was class over already? How long had he been jerking it? How long had he been passed out? He couldn’t tell. Time made no sense to him. He wasn’t even sure if anything around him was real or not. The figures moving around him seemed fuzzy and distant. He could sort of make out the sound of his friend’s bickering, but his brain was so addled from the orgasm and the afterglow that they felt like they were miles away.

There was one voice that cut through the fog.

Jeremy looked up and noticed that despite how hazy everything looked and felt, he could see one figure clear as day. The guy’s wide-brimmed, conical hat, short jacket, and shorter shorts made for quite the alluring silhouette.

The figure stepped forward and knelt down beside Jeremy. There was a huge, pleasant grin on his face. He was so cute that Jeremy’s dick began to stir to life once more. Blood rushed to Jeremy’s face causing his already flushed cheeks to turn another shade redder.

“You were right. That was a lot of fun!” Morgan cheered.

Jeremy muttered something unintelligible in reply. Even had he had the strength to muster a coherent response, he didn’t have the brain power. He felt like he was drifting between dreams. He couldn’t quite piece together his memories. All he really knew was that this body was his.

A goofy smirk played at the corner of Jeremy’s lips. His massive nuts filled his lap. His huge, soft cock draped over his nuts and laid along the floor in front of him. His massive, heavy tits rested solidly on top of his oversized bait and tackle. It felt so good being huge.

He could get used to this… not that he needed to get used to it. After all, he had always been this way.

[First Chapter] || [Previous Chapter]

#hyper #hyper cock #gay #breast expansion #cock growth #story tag

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dweemeister · 4 months ago

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Whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I.

Born to a turbulent family on a Mississippi farm, James Earl Jones passed away today. He was ninety-three years old. Abandoned by his parents as a child and raised by a racist grandmother (although he later reconciled with his actor father and performed alongside him as an adult), the trauma of his childhood developed into a stutter that followed him through his primary school years – sometimes, his stutter was so debilitating, he could not speak at all. In high school, Jones found in an English teacher someone who found in him a talent for written expression, and encouraged him to write and recite poetry in class. He overcame his stutter by graduation, although the effects of it carried over for the remainder of his life.

Jones' most accomplished roles may have been on the Broadway stage, where he won three Tonys (twice winning Best Actor in a Play for originating the lead roles in 1969's The Great White Hope by Howard Sackler and 1987's Fences by August Wilson) and was considered one of the best Shakespearean actors of his time.

But his contributions to cinema left an impact on audiences, too. Jones received an Honorary Academy Award alongside makeup artist Dick Smith (1972's The Godfather, 1984's Amadeus) in 2011. From the end of Hollywood's Golden Age to the dawn of the summer Hollywood blockbuster in the 1970s to the present, Jones' presence – and his basso profundo voice – could scarcely be ignored. Though he could not sing like Paul Robeson nor had the looks of Sidney Poitier, his presence and command put him in league of both of his acting predecessors.

Ten of the films James Earl Jones appeared in, whether in-person or voice acting, follow (left-right, descending):

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) – directed by Stanley Kubrick; also starring Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan Wynn, and Slim Pickens

The Great White Hope (1970) – directed by Martin Ritt; also starring Jane Alexander, Chester Morris, Hal Holbrook Beah Richards, and Moses Gunn

Star Wars saga (1977-2019; A New Hope pictured) – multiple directors, as the voice of Darth Vader, also starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Peter Cushing, Alec Guinness, Billy Dee Williams, Anthony Daniels, David Prowse, Kenny Baker, Peter Mayhew, and Frank Oz

Claudine (1974) – directed by John Berry; also starring Diahann Carroll, Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, and Tamu Blackwell

Conan the Barbarian (1982) – directed by John Milius; also starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sandahl Bergman, Ben Davidson, Cassandra Gaviola, Gerry Lopez, Mako, Valerie Quennessen, William Smith, and Max von Sydow

Coming to America series (1988 and 2021; original pictured) – multiple directors; also starring Eddie Murphy, Arsenio Hall, John Amos, Madge Sinclair, Shari Headley, Jermaine Fowler, Leslie Jones, Tracy Morgan, and KiKi Layne

The Hunt for Red October (1990) – directed by John McTiernan; also starring Sean Connery, Alec Baldwin, Scott Glenn, and Sam Neill

The Sandlot (1993) – directed by David Mickey Evans; also staring Tom Guiry, Mike Vitar, Patrick Renna, Chauncey Leopardi, Marty York, Brandon Adams, Grant Gelt, Shane Obedzinski, Victor DiMattia, Denis Leary, and Karen Allen

The Lion King (1994) – directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff, as the voice of Mufasa; also starring Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, Moira Kelly, Niketa Calame, Ernie Sabella, Nathan Lane, and Robert Guillaume, Rowan Atkinson, Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin, Jim Cummings, and Madge Sinclair

Field of Dreams (1989) – directed by Phil Alden Robinson; also starring Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan, Ray Liotta, and Burt Lancaster

#James Earl Jones #Dr. Strangelove #The Great White Hope #Star Wars #A New Hope #Claudine #Conan the Barbarian #Coming to America #The Hunt for Red October #The Sandlot #The Lion King #Field of Dreams #The Empire Strikes Back #Coming 2 America #Return of the Jedi #Darth Vader #Mufasa #Oscars #in memoriam

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earlycuntsets · 4 months ago

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pt. 3 (pts 1, 2, 4)

earlycuntsets.org sourced - where I got all my mcr pictures

first of a series. due to tumblr limits on how many links you can post. this full idea will be continued on future posts. here is 2007-2010. this is pictures. will make a separate post for youtube/recordings.

been needing to fully source my website so here we go! wanted to share with other kool mcr fans.

old fansites/website appearances:

12/17/2010 the night 87x stole christmas detroit mi - ken settle & schwegweb.com (ken settle)

12/18/2020 the edge jingle bell rock toronto ca - popmatters (mcrmy ecuador) & aux.tv

02/13/2011 birmingham uk -blackvelvetmagazine

03/05/2011 barcelona spain - in headphones (mcrmy ecuador)

04/09/2011 denver co - reverb (mcrmy ecuador)

04/12/2011 minneapolis mn - citypages (mcrmy ecuador)

04/15/2011 chicago il - chicago now (mcrmy ecuador) & j.l. hopper

04/17/2011 cleveland oh - radio 92.3 (mcrmy ecuador)

04/23/2011 nyc ny - QRO magazine

05/07/2011 sayreville nj - thenjunderground

05/15/2011 bbc r1 big weekend carlisle uk - country grind slideshow

05/18/2011 orlando fl - ishotyourband.com & jencray.com

05/21/2011 & 05/22/2011 dallas tx - blackvelvetmagazine

05/28/2011 la ca - theaudioperv & sarah dope (deviantart)

07/10/2011 live at t in the park balado uk - thisfakediy

09/01/2011 auburn wa - suzi pratt

flickrs:

12/12/2010 101 rex the halls san diego ca - natalie, brittney denaux,

12/14/2010 st louis mo - todd owyoung, kingdead, todd morgan, jane bush,

12/15/2010 chicago il - ashley osborn, famousliving.dead, liz kannenburg, danigio,

12/18/2010 the edge jingle bell rock toronto ca- megan shauna

12/31/2010 carson daley nye - alexis siracusano

02/12/2011 london uk - lucy roth & emma webb

02/16/2011 dublin ireland - ian keegan

02/18/2011 manchester uk - michelle heighway, kay elliot, frankie cooksie, helena hurricane

02/19/2011 nottingham uk - simplificity

2/21/2011 cardiff uk - holly jenkins

02/22/2011 newcastle uk - sinead granger

02/24/2011 london uk - lucy roth (planetary go mv show)

02/26/2011 tilberg netherlands - rene sebastian

03/01/2011 paris france - jem & dianthallr

03/05/2011 barcelona spain - ruben navarro, elsa nieto, javier bragado domingo

03/07/2011 milano italy - rodolfo sassano, emanuela silm rillo,

03/12/2011 mtv winter valencia spain - laura s.c., ana barettino, grace dirnt, jose fernandez,

03/18/2011 stockholm sweden - victor lundmark

03/31/2011 oakland ca - scernea

04/02/2011 vancouver ca - ashley tanasiychuk, anil sharma,

04/03/2011 seattle wa - ciera walters

04/08/2011 salt lake city ut - sparkk&fade & alex young

04/09/2011 denver co - michael fajardo

04/11/2011 toronta ca - tony felgueiras

04/13/2011 milwaukee wi - echolalia

04/15/2011 chicago il - amelia l, danigio

04/16/2011 grand rapids me - stephanie weier

4/22/2011 nyc nc - brittany vero

04/23/2011 nyc ny - brittany vero, amy winkler, ludovica ciccarelli, tyler olson, robert polanco

05/07/2011 sayreville nj - future daydream

05/15/2011 holmdel nj - michael dubin

05/10/2011 washington dc - specimenlife, kell

05/15/2011 bbc r1 big weekend carlisle uk - chealsea cochrane, sabrina lr,

05/17/2011 ft lauderdale fl - maysa askar & marc schiller

05/21/2011 dallas tx - thunderkiss

06/24/2011 dcode festival madrid spain - juan rodriguez talavera, juan perez- fajardo, patygelduck

06/26/2011 imola italy - giacomo astorri,

06/27/2011 vienna austria - jeremy kruezmayr & steph fiorese

06/29/2011 volt festival sonpron hungary - zalaihirlap (mcrmy ecuador)

07/07/2011 oeiras portugal - palco principal

07/27/2011 vienna austria - inkbotkowalski

08/13/2011 hershey pa - alicia brown

instagram:

05/05/2011 boston ma - rich g

looks like there will be a part four to complete the timeline. damn the link limits

pt. 4 here

#my chemical romance #gerard way #mcr #frank iero #mikey way #ray toro #danger days era #2011 #2010

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orain1 · 2 months ago

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Hello! My name is Rain, and I'm 19 years old. I'm currently seeking someone around the same age who is interested in roleplaying, specifically ship roleplays featuring my original character. I am open to double-ups if that is your preference!

Requirements:

- Must be 18+: For comfort and maturity, I prefer to roleplay with those who are 18 or older.

- Literacy: I’m looking for semi-literate to literate roleplayers—no one-liners, please.

- Activity: I understand people have busy lives, but I appreciate communication if you’ll be unavailable for a period of time.

- Friendly: I like building friendships with the people I roleplay with, so let’s keep things fun and friendly!

Fandoms I’m Interested In:

Here are the shows and movies I’m currently interested in roleplaying. The characters I’m looking for are in parentheses, and the ones I can play are in brackets. Ones I’m really wanting to do will have stars next to them.

- That 70s Show (Eric or Hyde) [any character]

- IT 2017 (Patrick, Victor, or Stanley) [All teen characters] ⭐️

- Stranger Things (Eddie, Steve, Mike, Jonathan) [All teen characters]

- The Society (Campbell or Gordie) [All characters]

- Heartbreak High (Spider) [All characters]

- Gilmore Girls (Logan, Jess, Finn, or Dave) [Rory, Lorelai, Sookie, Lane, Jess, or Dave]

- Maze Runner (Newt, Thomas, Minho) [Any character]

- House of Anubis (Jerome) [Any character] ⭐️

- Harry Potter (Fred or George?) [any character from golden trio era] ⭐️

- Doctor Who (11th Doctor, 10th Doctor) [Any character]

-vampire diaries (Jeremy, Tyler) [any character]

- School Bus Graveyard (Aiden, Ben, Logan) [any teen character)

-Avatar The Last Airbender (Zuko, Sokka) [Any character]

-Legend Of Korra (Mako, Bolin) [Any Character]

-Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien/Cat Noir) [any character] ⭐️

If you’re interested, feel free to reach out! I’m excited to collaborate on a fun and engaging roleplay.

my discord- Bigbrainepicgame

My oc

http://aminoapps.com/p/db74h6k

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the-forest-library · 8 days ago

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December 2024 Reads

Orbital - Samantha Harvey

I Who Have Never Known Men - Jacqueline Harpman

Ghost Wall - Sarah Moss

Fox 8 - George Saunders

The Muse of Maiden Lane - Mimi Matthews

Finding Mr. Write - Kelley Armstrong

Cole and Laila Are Just Friends - Bethany Turner

P.S. I Hate You - Lauren Connolly

Not in My Book - Katie Holt

The Rules of Royalty - Cale Dietrich

Wrong Answers Only - Tobias Madden

Lily and the Octopus - Steven Rowley

The Mistletoe Mystery - Nita Prose

A Night in the Lonesome October - Roger Zelazny

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow - Washington Irving

A Matter of Execution - Nicolas Atwater and Olivia Atwater

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door - H.G. Parry

Cursed Cocktails - S.L. Rowland

Games Untold - Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T.S. Eliot

So Thirsty - Rachel Harrison

Hunting November - Adriana Mather

Two Sides to Every Murder - Danielle Valentine

Demon in the Wood - Leigh Bardugo

Thistlefoot - GennaRose Nethercott

Ghost Squad - Claribel A. Ortega

Heartwood Hotel: A True Home - Kallie George

Understood Betsy - Dorothy Canfield Fisher

The Death and Life of Benny Brooks - Ethan Long

Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Catcher - Bruce Coville

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse - Charlie Mackesy

In a Jar - Deborah Marcero

Frog and Toad Are Friends - Arnold Lobel

Frog and Toad Together - Arnold Lobel

Frog and Toad All Year - Arnold Lobel

Up in the Garden and Down in the Dirt - Kate Messner and Christopher Silas Neal

A Little Like Magic - Sarah Kurpiel

Sugar and Spice and Everything Mice - Annie Silvestro and Christee Curran-Bauer

Mr. Santa - Jarvis

I Shall Never Fall in Love - Harri Conner

Bunt! Striking Out on Financial Aid - Ngoni Ukazu

Swamp Thing: Twin Branches - Maggie Stiefvater

Shadow of the Batgirl - Sarah Kuhn

She-Hulk, Vol. 5: All In - Rainbow Rowell

Briony Hatch - Ginny & Penelope Skinner

March: Book One - John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell

Cat People to Judge in Art and Life - Nicole Tersigni

Pen & Ink - Isaac Fitzgerald and Wendy MacNaughton

March Sisters: On Life, Death, and Little Women - Kate Bolick, Jenny Zhang, Carmen Maria Machado, and Jane Smiley

Everybody Needs an Editor - Melissa Harris

We All Shine On: John, Yoko, and Me - Elliot Mintz

Never Play it Safe - Chase Jarvis

Women Living Deliciously - Florence Given

Things to Look Forward To - Sophie Blackall

Real American Girls Tell Their Own Stories - Thomas Hoobler and Dorothy Hoobler

The Wood in Winter - John Lewis-Stempel

50 Ways to Rewire Your Anxious Brain - Catherine M. Pittman and Maha Zayed Hoffman

Democracy or Else - Jon Favreau, Jon Lovett, and Tommy Vietor

What I Ate in One Year - Stanley Tucci

Greekish - Georgina Hayden

The Vegetable Eater - Cara Mangini

Bold = Highly Recommend

Italics = Worth It

Crossed Out = Nope

Thoughts: So, uh, I read a lot of books this month. I leaned into beating my total from last year since I was close and read a lot of short reads, graphic novels, and the children's books I was giving for gifts.

There were some good reads this month, including two new canine narrators that I adore: Fox 8 and Snuff from A Night in the Lonesome October (which really should be a big tumblr book as it has Jack the Ripper, Dracula, the Wolf Man, a witch, a clergyman, a druid, Victor Frankenstein, Sherlock Holmes, a Rasputin-coded mad monk, and occultists along with their familiars scheming over the fate of the world).

Goodreads Goal: 476/400

#2024 reads #book reviews #book recommendations #books #booklr #reading #bookish #bibliophile #tflo

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weclassybouquetfun · 8 months ago

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Met Gala: Who's Repping Who:

Nicholas Galitzine in Fendi

At least his pants are tailored unlike at the Academy Museum

because the interwebs is giving Donald Glover (in Saint Laurent) the business.

Nevermind that he looks like a Baptist preacher; or apparently a member of The Whispers.

One thing Marc Malkin of Variety is going to do is talk to Nicholas (who spots his RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE costar Uma Thurman on the red carpet).

Uma Thurman, part of Team Tory Burch (with BLUE BEETLE's Bruna Marquezine).

I'm somewhat disappointed Nicholas is wearing fitted clothes. I want those pregnant Henry memes to continue.

apologies to Lea Michele (in Rodarte)

-Galitzine's THE IDEA OF YOU producer Gabrielle Union and husband Dwayne Wade in Michael Kors

PARTIES OF ONE

Doja Cat in Vetements

Damiano David of Maneskin and Dove Cameron in Diesel

The Others

Lily James in Erdem

Lizzo in Victor Weinsanto

Sarah Jessica Parker in Richard Quinn with a Philip Treacy hat

Da'vine Joy Randolph in Gap designed by Zac Posen

Lana Del Rey in Alexander McQueen

Stray Kids in Tommy Hilfiger

Lily Gladstone in Gabriela Hearst

Kieran Culkin in KidSuper

Jeremy Strong in Loro Piana

Matthew Macfayden and Keeley Hawes

Chloe Sevigny in Dilara Findikoglu

Sydney Sweeney in Miu Miu

Nicole Kidman in Balenciaga

Jennifer Lopz in Schiaparelli Couture

Someone photoshopped a gele on her and it looks so right.

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year ago

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Trey: *Trying to explain Riddle is that way because of his mom*

Me: Give me a minute as I pull up my ‘Trauma Doesn’t Excuse Sh*t Behavior’ PowerPoint.

Say it with me, everyone: an explanation is not an excuse 😊

You know, the other day I was watching one of Ryan George's Pitch Meetings and when Producer Guy asked Writer Guy how the audience would root for the villain of the franchise and the response was "he's handsome" which basically explains most people's reactions to fictional men.

Prepare for incoming rant that has little to do with the ask

This probably might come as a shock because one of the main appeal of twst would be the whole villainous aspect/Disney Villain fanbase but I don't really like villains that much, at least, not romantically. Like don't get me wrong, I think that they're incredible characters and it would be so fun to sit down with one and have a conversation with one. Villain songs are so fun (I was literally singing ‘This Day Aria’ to myself the other day I haven’t heard that song in like a decade) and you can tell that that characters like Scar or Hades or Shere Khan or Jafar or Maleficent are having so much fun being deliciously evil and even the more serious, complex ones like Loki or Frollo are fun to pick apart so yeah I understand the hype. I just always rooted for the heroes and I guess heroic characters have always been more my type.

My mother absolutely loves Erik Destler and is forever salty that Christine chose Raoul (despite my many many attempts at arguing why Raoulstine is the superior couple - smol primary school me could not understand why my mum liked the chandelier dropper and was deeply concerned), my best friend has been in love with Heathcliffe since we were eleven, and my little sister has literally told me that her type of fictional men are the toxic red flags (not exactly word for word but she did explain why she likes bad boys over good boys when I was complaining about how my type (wholesome soft boys) always get sidelined for the arrogant, snarky bad boys - we're also very diametrically opposed on our views of friends to lovers (my s++ tier all time favourite and her loathing) vs enemies to lovers (I can't really stand it - Pride and Prejudice is the only exception - and that's literally all she consumes) so that might also be a reason).

Like, I understand the appeal of a Byronic hero (Mr Darcy has far too much power) - a closed off, broody man that hates everything but you? And will burn down the world to keep you warm? I can respect that there are people who dig that. But their not really for me.

The mild bout of insanity thirteen year old me had where I spent two months attracted to Edward Rochester is an outlier and should not have been counted (though that was during my wattpad phase so...)

But I can admit that I have yet to shake off my feelings for Dr Henry Jekyll, Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray (though to be fair, Mr Gabriel John Utterson the lawyer and cinnamon roll artist boy Basil Hallward do own my heart). And yes, Jeremy Jordan did make me question my morality as he did make my feelings for Light Yagami be too positive to be sane for a brief moment (Touta Matsuda is still my man, don't worry). But apart from them, literally all of my faves are what you'd call your traditional, morally upright heroes.

Basically what I'm saying is that my perception might be skewed because I've never had the whole 'villains are cooler' mindset when it came to stories. Yes, I love the villains as characters but I always liked their heroic foils more (goodness is just so attractive to me). You get lots of amazing heroic protagonists that have horribly tragic backstories and they're the ones I always fall for because the idea of being a kind sweetheart despite the world being anything but is just *chef's kiss* that's a kind of strength that's so swoon-worthy.

I guess that's why it's harder for me to look past the characters' actions in twst is because, well, they chose to do everything they did. They made a conscious choice to be terrible, despite understanding the consequences. Riddle may have been brainwashed into becoming a tyrant by his mother but he still admitted that he knew he was being horrible - he understands the concept of morality, of good and bad, and he willingly and deliberately did everything he did.

I suppose this text post I found on Pinterest would explain my point better:

#twisted wonderland #twst #asks

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invisible-pink-toast · 10 months ago

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casting the older versions of the other yellowjackets

for those who still haven't been cast, and probably never will be rip :(

Jackie Taylor

Teen Actor - Ella Purnell

1st Choice: Robin Tunney

2nd Choice: Rebecca Gayheart

3rd Choice: Lizzy Caplan

Akilah

Teen Actor - Nia Sondaya

1st Choice: Rutina Wesley

2nd Choice: Zainab Jah

3rd Choice: Yolonda Ross

Laura Lee

Teen Actor - Jane Widdop

1st Choice: Mae Martin*

*maybe slightly young for the role, but makeup could make them look a little older. besides i think they look so much like an older laura lee, plus they have that youthful, kind energy

2nd Choice: Asia Kate Dillion

Mari

Teen Actor - Alexa Barajas

1st Choice: Natalie Martinez

2nd Choice: Cinthia Moura

3rd Choice: Cote de Pablo

Javi Martinez

Teen Actor - Luciano Leroux

1st Choice: Victor Rasuk

2nd Choice: David Castañeda

3rd Choice: Wilmer Valderrama

Crystal / Kristin

Teen Actor - Nuha Jes Izman

1st Choice: Jennie Panhan

2nd Choice: Karrueche Tran

Coach Ben Scott

Actor - Steven Krueger

(there's always the option to just age up steven krueger to appear late 50s/early 60s)

1st Choice: Murray Bartlett

2nd Choice: Jeremy Sisto

3rd Choice: Billy Crudup

although some of them never make it out of the wilderness (and some of them probably won't) what i wouldn't give for an alternate reality episode where the plane never crashed... it would be heartbreaking but so cool!!

#yellowjackets #casting #older cast #adult cast #my post #jackie taylor #akilah #laura lee #mari #crystal #kristin #javi #javi martinez #coach scott #ben scott #coach ben #fancast

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donnahinkleystaceytroy · 2 months ago

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Cher | Bob Mackie 1983 Academy Award Worn Gown

An original Bob Mackie beaded white evening gown worn by Cher for the 55th Annual Academy Awards on March 22, 1983. Cher and Placido Domingo presented the Best Adaptation Score award to Henry Mancini and Leslie Bricusse at the ceremony for the film Victor/Victoria. Cher also wore the gown during her Cher...Special (1979) and is seen wearing the gown while on stage with Dolly Parton.

A semi-sheer white silk organza full-length evening with a white and silver bugle beaded pattern and faceted rhinestones throughout. The gown features a high neckline with an exposed back, dolman sleeves, a bodice that blouses at the drop waistline, and an alien skirt that is fitted at the hips and then goes out just above the knee. A Bob Mackie label is sewn at the interior waist on the Petersham. The gown's bodice is partially lined and landed, to the semi-sheer aesthetic of the overall design. Two tassels at the cuffs were not present when Cher wore the design in 1983 but were likely added afterward.

Bob Mackie and Cher have become one of the most incredible designer-muse symbiotic relationships of the 20th century. His nude illusion beaded and rhinestone gowns have become a part of fashion's pantheon of designs in pop culture. In 2019 the Metropolitan Museum of Art exhibition on Camp featured numerous Mackie Mackie designs from the 1970s and 80s. Designers like Donatella Versace, Alessandro Michelle, and Jeremy Scott were contemporary designers whose custom looks paid homage to original, sexy, and satirical Mackie designs.

Bust: 18 inches flat (underarm to underarm) Waist: About 28 inches Hips: 34 nches Length: 57.5 inches (Front. Neck to Hem)

PROVENANCE From The Archives of Bob Mackie

https://bid.juliensauctions.com/lot-details/index/catalog/580/lot/246693/cher-bob-mackie-1983-academy-award-worn-gown

#cher #bob mackie

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quill-of-thoth · 2 years ago

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Letters from Watson, catching up

Study In Scarlet part 1: 1880 I’ve been neglecting my correspondence (emails) and decided to start my Holmes reread today, with some good old fashioned deductive speculation and some context, in case anyone else is also reading along a month late. Please bear with me as I neglect to commit to either a Watsonian (these are real people who we can learn biographical data about) or a Doylist (remember this is just a book and we should just relax) point of view. If your mental image of Holmes and Watson are either Robert Downey Junior and Jude law, or Jeremy Brett and David Burke, you will probably be surprised at how young these two probably are.

Preliminary evidence: Our Friends’ ages

- Watson was wounded at the battle of Maiwand, fought July 27 1880, ill for months, plural, and the journey back to england took a month. At the very earliest he started looking for lodgings in November 1880 - He would have been at medical school for at least two, probably three years before finishing in 1878. It is unlikely, though not impossible, that he would have started his course of study significantly before reaching his twenties. For historical comparison, Dr. James Barry, also an army surgeon with a degree from a British medical school, started his course of study at the age of approximately twenty, and became an army surgeon at about 23. (Although Dr. Barry died in 1865 it’s unlikely that there would be a huge difference in how long their courses of study took.) People seem to have gone directly to medical school instead of doing other university courses first. - While he could be older, could be slightly younger. Watson is probably around twenty five. - Holmes is still taking university courses, erratically, and although we don’t get any timeline of his studies, he’s probably not older than Stamford, who was a surgeon’s assistant when Watson worked with him at St. Bartholemew’s Hospital, and presumably still works there given how much he knows about Holmes’ use of the chemical labs. “Young” Stamford is likely a few years younger than Watson. - Like Watson Holmes probably started his studies in his very late teens or early twenties. The age of getting a degree could and did vary during the 1800s from our current conception of who’s the right age to be in college (with people somewhat more likely to be sent off to secondary education slightly younger than seventeen or eighteen than they are now, and also plenty of instances of people starting college later than we usually expect from someone who is headed directly there after their childhood studies and before their first adult career) but the important thing here is that Holmes appears to be in charge of his own finances, and the age of majority for Victorian men was 21. - Holmes has pretty much got to be somewhere between 20 and 25. My money is on him being 22-23 (because he does already have a reputation, as we shall see, he has completed at least a year of study during the time he was friends with Victor Trevor, and because he appears to complete, or give up, his coursework between the end of Study in Scarlet and any other case Watson witnesses) and on Watson being 24-26. - For context, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote this story at age 27 in 1886. It’s not unreasonable to assume that, despite timeline weirdness (He was born in 1859, as Holmes might have been, but he will obviously always set his writing in the past), Holmes and Watson are going to age more or less with him. - I have only vague memories of the Baring-Gould chronology for this series but I think it agrees with me in that regard. Baring-Gould thinks Holmes is about two or three years older than I think Holmes is, though.

Conclusion: My sympathies to Mrs. Hudson, these boys are going to be the death of a decent amount of your furniture.

#letters from watson #hey when I imprinted on these books at 13 I did not know I was going to be a disabled recent graduate at their approximate ages #So like my especial sympathies to watson #You get shot for your country and ACD can't even check the first paragraph over to make sure he recorded the right limb #anyway let's continue on and see what I missed seventeen years ago #and how nostalgic I get for my early twenties #considering that when I was thirteen twenty five was ancient #and now both thirteen and twenty five are prime I was a dumbass ages #A Study in Scarlet

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brynnterpretations · 6 months ago

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Vomit My Heart, Pull My Legs Apart

“If it was what Beverly was good for, nobody could fault Gretta for wanting a taste."

🔗 Read on AO3

⌗ gretta keene/beverly marsh (one-sided) ⌗ referenced gretta keene/sally mueller ⌗ bullying ⌗ sexual harassment ⌗ eating disorders ⌗ love/hate ⌗ binge-drinking ⌗ vomiting ⌗ song: i wanna sex you up (color me badd) ⌗ song: poison (bell biv devoe) ⌗ song: push it (salt-n-pepa) ⌗ its 1991 what can i say ⌗ titled after "vomit heart" by babes in toyland

By fifth period, word had gotten around that Beverly Marsh had been sucking Belch Huggins’ dick behind the bleachers.

“Christ,” laughed Sally, “that’s sad.”

It was. While everyone knew Beverly was a slut, Belch Huggins was a new low. Since Henry the Psycho had been jailed for killing all those kids, the Bowers Gang had splintered off, and while Victor had graduated, Belch had been held back a year. The guy was dumb as rocks. Ugly as them, too. Plus, he reeked. Just thinking about the dick cheese on the fucker made Gretta involuntarily shudder.

“It’s a new low, for sure,” muttered Gretta, leaning closer to the smudged bathroom mirror as she reapplied her mascara. Tears from her earlier vomiting of stomach acid and bile had made her bottom lashes clump together, and she hissed as the wand only further melded them. “Marc, do you have your L'Oréal?”

Truthfully, it was such a low that it pissed Gretta off, for a reason she couldn’t really decipher. Beverly was easy — everyone knew that. Since she’d affiliated herself with the Losers, it became common knowledge that she was riding all of them at the Quarry like they were Stevenson rocking horses. Still, though, she couldn’t act like she hadn’t expected some modicum of decency since sophomore year had started. Bev, to some extent, had started cleaning herself up, flying through the APs and IBs she shared with Marcia and playing on the lacrosse team in that egregiously short uniform of theirs (“easy access, am I right, boys?”). She’d started dressing a bit nicer, too, even though her clothes were still clearly coming out of Salvation Army bins down on Main Street. One may even say Beverly was pretty now, with her dusting of cheap mascara and wide eyes and toned legs.

“Shit,” cursed Gretta. She’d been so lost in her head that she now looked more like a raccoon than a human, her cheeks fat and bloated and eyes outlined by halos of charcoal.

“Do you want me to help?” asked Sally. Gretta thought of her bubblegum breath and hot, damp hands, cloying and always so desperate to please, and inhaled through her nose.

“No,” she murmured under her breath. “It’s fine. Whatever.”

She grabbed her cheer bag from the ground, rifling through it to find her camisole and miniskirt. She and her girls were going to Jeremy Bent’s party at Witcham, and they had a decent amount of time between now, the pregame, and the actual party.

“Wait outside,” she said, tossing her clothes over her shoulder. Sally and Marcia gave each other a dubious look. “Do you people even listen to what I say? Guard the door, too. Jesus.”

The two scuttled out as Gretta rolled her eyes and started stripping off her uniform. Bruises stained her inner thighs and hipbones, which jutted out unattractively in comparison to the doughiness the water retention in her face had created. If she wanted to get laid tonight and not have shit clogging up her school’s ecosystem, it would have to be with someone very, very drunk.

That just made her think of Beverly Marsh, and she huffed. Beverly, who slept with half the town, yet didn’t have the marks to show it. Beverly, who always acted so poor and weak around her white-trash father, yet always left her apartment with a smile on her face and this holier-than-thou attitude that she held like a knife whenever Gretta treated her like the garbage she was.

Maybe the whole Huggins debacle pissed her off so much because Gretta knew that Beverly really wasn’t sleeping with everyone in existence and probably would’ve dropped dead before getting on her knees for Belch Huggins. She was a pump-and-dump, sure, but Beverly clearly had standards, as nonsensical to Gretta they were.

Once in her outfit, backed away to the back of the restroom, getting on her tiptoes to inspect herself. Black skirt with a bow-tied string for a belt. Lacy, hot-pink tank top. Neon Reeboks. All to say, look, but don’t touch, and ooze a certain sense of bitchiness. Chipmunk cheeks. Stubby legs. Rotten teeth.

“Come back in,” she said.

Sally and Marcia sheepishly walked in, looking like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. She knew they gossiped about her, but considering she knew damn well that they’d never tell anyone besides each other, she let them have at it. Within reason. She’d let them have their little moments of “wow, Gretta seems off” together instead of being at each other’s throats 24/7.

“You look beautiful,” said Sally, closing the door.

“Your shooters in the bag?”

Sally nodded.

“Toss me one,” said Gretta, “we’re starting early.”

I Wanna Sex You Up blared through Jeremy’s speakers. Despite Jeremy wearing knockoff Calvin Klein and living on Witcham Street — cow shit chic, as her mother called it — the fucker had a nice house. Big open living room, marble-topped kitchen counter already sticky with alcohol, and a pool outside. Gretta wished it wasn’t October in Maine, because she could use a swim. Derec Ruddock had let her finish his joint, and she felt like she was itching out of her skin.

She didn’t really feel as drunk as she did irritated, to be honest. She’d had three shooters, a swig of vodka, and two glasses of jungle since arriving, yet her mood the entire day had sullied the normal giddiness alcohol gave her. It was only thirty minutes into the party, and Gretta was over it.

Sally tottered over to her, already sporting a stain on her white tulle shirt. “BP?”

Gretta gave her a size-up. Sally’s cherry lip gloss had smeared past her lip into a milky pink sheen, and her eyes had that giddy, distant sort of look she always got when she’d had too many shots. “Not if you’re gonna make me lose.”

Sally whined, a shrill, irritating sound, snaking her arm around Gretta’s. “You don’t have to be on my team, you know. There’s someone I think you’ll really want to see.”

Gretta scrunched her nose. There wasn’t really anyone she was interested in. Sure, she’d staked her claim on Mikey Ewart, but she’d made it clear since 8th grade that she was not the type of girl to immediately fuck a guy within the start of a party.

“Fine,” muttered Gretta, “where’s Marc?”

“Talking to Jeremy,” giggled Sally as she led her through the crowd. She was needy — whenever Gretta was in a bad mood and hadn’t let Sally get in-between her legs in a couple of days, she became skittish, histrionic. “They’re quite the match, I’d say.”

Rolling her eyes, Gretta allowed Sally to whisk her down to the basement. It was stuffier than the rest of the house. Tarp was laid over the carpet and made soft noises when Gretta’s Reeboks treaded on it, and there was a lingering smell of stale beer. Still, it was less crowded than upstairs with less harah lighting, so Gretta would take what she could get.

“There,” nodded Sally, “have a go?”

Beverly fucking Marsh stood at the corner of the room, wearing one of her nicer donation-pile dresses, some billowing cami with an old couch pattern to it. It was clearly for someone more well-endowed than her, the hem of the dress awkwardly bunching up where her sparse chest was. As always, she wore a collection of cheap jewelry dangling off her wrists, her apartment-key necklace knocking into her prominent chest bones as she laughed with Mikey Ewart. Bitch bitch cunt. Beverly had done herself up a bit, with dark eyeshadow framing her freakishly blue eyes, mascara making her eyelashes even more voluminous than they already were. Slightly smudged red lipstick, too, a shade that Gretta’s mother would immediately call a slut paint. As Gretta stared her down, stomach churning, she felt like Beverly was actually able to pass as someone not the epitome of white trash, while Gretta was balloon-cheeked, stubby—

“Hey, Marsh,” called out Gretta, hand already fishing one of her last whiskey shooters from her purse. “2v2.”

Beverly looked up with those impossibly wide doe eyes, clearly startled. Considering Beverly’s reputation, she, at first, had no clue how the little shit had made it to a place like Jeremy’s, before recalling she was on the team with Mikey’s big sister — Dina, or something. She was upstairs and another one of those holier-than-thou types, probably thinking herself to be a good, sweet person for inviting fucking Swampmonster to a party.

“Oh, hey, G,” grinned Mikey. Unlike Jeremy’s, Mikey’s CK was actually real, but she was so pissed that she couldn’t care, downing her shooter and giving Mikey a nasty smile.

“Whatcha waiting for?” she sing-songed. “I don’t bite.”

Gretta did bite. Hard. Beverly had looked over to Mikey with that stupid faux-innocent look on her face, the one that said please daddy get me out of this sticky situation, but Mikey was too stupid to notice — one of the things she liked about the guy. Dumb boys were the easiest.

As Mikey jovially pranced over, Beverly shuffled behind him, holding her jungle with an iron grip. Cute. “Eye to eye. You and Sally.”

“Your wish is my command,” said Mikey with a smile.

The alcohol was finally starting to kick in for Gretta, making her body feel like it was buzzing, the remnants of her headache fading into a pleasant thrum.

“Eye—to—eye—“

Despite her drunkenness, Sally’s ball made it — a fucking golf ball, Jesus, what did a girl have to do to get a ping-pong at a party — while Mikey’s didn’t. Baseball apparently didn’t do much for the guy’s hand-eye coordination.

“Broadways first,” smiled Gretta as Mikey faux-grumbled to Beverly. Gretta saw her laugh weakly, obviously trying to just get through the round before skittering back to her shithole of an apartment. “You go, Sally.”

Sally looked at her with wide, drunken eyes, obviously trying to gauge what Gretta wanted out of the round. Gretta knocked her knee into Sally’s: just go.

Hers almost made it into the middle, but awkwardly bounced off. It was better than Gretta was expecting her to be, honestly, and she got points for scoring first, anyway. Gretta plucked her golf ball from her cup, meeting Beverly’s eyes.

“You first,” said Gretta sweetly.

With that, the game turned rhythmic. Beverly missed. Gretta didn’t. When Gretta held out her hand, Sally handed her her last tequila shooter, which Gretta threw back with practiced ease. Ball in, ball out, ball in, ball out — Gretta could barely remember why she had been in such a sullen mood at the start of the party. There was such an easiness to everything she did and felt. She never wanted it to end.

When Gretta’s turn came again, she looked over to Sally. She returned her gaze with big, brown eyes, so sick and desperate for approval. She leaned into Gretta, hot hands grazing her sides. “When do you want to get out of here?”

It took Gretta a few seconds to process what she said. She stared at Sally Mueller, her friend of eight years, who would do anything and everything to please her, who meant something to her — but not enough. She smiled.

“Let’s finish the game,” she said.

She retrieved the pong ball and readied her aim. Mikey was whispering something into Beverly’s ear as his hand rubbed at the small of her back, probably trying to bestow some ancient high-school BP strategies onto her, and Gretta felt something hot splinter in her.

Pop. The golf ball went smack-dab into Beverly Marsh’s perfectly blushing cheek.

Beverly stumbled back, and Mikey, off his ass on Busch, took a few seconds to register before gingerly placing his hand on her shoulder. “Are you—”

“What the fuck, Gretta?” asked Beverly. Her voice got higher when she drank.

“Oh, poor thing,” cooed Gretta, all faux-sympathy. She felt a drunken surge of power, and with that came giddiness, like there was a light filling and warming all the dark, gutty crevices inside her body. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Shit, that’s Jeremy’s fault,” muttered Mikey. “Nobody could find the ping-pong balls. Probably had them wedged up his ass from how much of a control-freak he’s been about getting the party on the calendar—”

Before Mikey could finish his ramble in a semi-coherent way, Beverly had darted out of the room, her worn Dr. Martens click-clacking on the stairs. Gretta held back a laugh, while Sally had put her hand to her mouth, eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Ah, fuck,” said Mikey, rubbing a hand over his face. He stumbled halfway over to Gretta and Sally. “Dina’s gonna be pissed.”

“Why’s that?” asked Sally. She, too, was drunk off her fucking ass, putting her entire body weight onto the table and looking at Mikey as if he was the second coming of Jesus.

“Girl’s had a rough go of things lately,” Mikey mumbled, voice teetering on a whine. Ew, thought Gretta, feeling her empty stomach churn with disgust. “We were trying to make it better, get her away from all the shit.”

Well, I’m right, as always, thought Gretta. “Let me fix it.”

Mikey looked at her from his right eye. His hand was still covering half of his face, and he seemed to be drunk enough to not realize that. “Really?”

“Yeah,” smiled Gretta. “No problem. It’s my bad, really. Sally, if you can stay?”

Sally appeared to almost cartoonishly crumple into herself — you don’t want me to help? — and it made Gretta laugh, a light, airy one. She felt better than she’d ever felt in her life.

“I’ll be right back,” Gretta whispered into Sally’s ear before flittering away, like a bird flying for the first and final time. Everything felt perfect, until flashes came in her vision that made her suddenly furious and nearly aflame with her rage, but then she just had to see the faces of everyone at Jeremy Bent’s Witcham St. party to feel grounded again. She didn’t really know where she was going as the music wavered around her—Girl, I Must Warn You! I Sense Something Strange In My Mind—until she was outside the bathroom closest to the door.

The sad, loser bathroom, where the sad losers went to cry, sad losers like Beverly Marsh. Gretta leaned against the door, the cool of the wood against her flushed face feeling nearly orgasmic, and closed her eyes.

It wasn’t until Salt-n-Pepa started leaking around the corner that Gretta remembered. She knocked on the door.

“Almost done.”

That flat, neutral tone of Beverly’s — gutless in its lack of conviction, in anything. Gretta inhaled deeply, a flash of hatred streaking through her body, and knocked again with both of her hands, beating on the door like the knuckles of a madwoman.

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want?” snapped Beverly, opening the door. The eye makeup she’d bothered to do had been cried off, a pink welt forming on her right cheek. It was round and pink like a cripps apple, and Gretta was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to bite it.

“Oh, fuck no,” said Beverly, about to shut the door, until Gretta manhandled her way in. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m really sorry about all this,” said Gretta, locking the door. She turned to Beverly, her vision swimming slightly, giving her a nasty smile. “That looks like it hurts.”

Beverly watched her warily. They’d never been left alone together in such a small space, and she looked like a cornered animal, yet Gretta could tell she was still calculating, still trying to calmly and indifferently get herself out of the situation, and it pissed her off. “I wonder why.”

“That cheek gonna stop you from rubbing up on every walking dick you see?”

“Jesus, is that your problem?” scoffed Beverly. Her head bobbed a bit, like she was trying to physically shake the alcohol off without looking too drunk. “Michael’s all yours, believe me.”

Gretta cocked her head. Stared. Felt a rush of tenderness for Beverly, feeling a sick sort of satisfaction for having a mark on her body that came from hers.

“Enjoy your shitty—”

She did it without thinking, closing the space between them, mashing her lips on Beverly’s. It hurt, and that was what made it feel good, the mashing of Beverly’s teeth on hers as the redhead backed into the wall, nearly falling over the toilet. Gretta hadn’t ever kissed anyone standing up, and there was something that felt very purposeful and intentful about it, something that made her want to pin Beverly to the wall and make her regret ever talking to Mikey or getting on her knobby knees for any guy who treated her nicely. Without thinking, her hand found Beverly’s lower thigh—

Gretta saw herself collide with the back of the door before feeling it.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you?” gasped Beverly. Her lipstick was smeared. She looked hurt, and she looked very good that way, a speck of blood beading at the corner of her lip. Gretta could taste it on her own.

She exhaled a ragged breath, staring at her, Beverly staring back, the animalistic feeling of everything turning into an exhaustion that made her want to throw up everything in her body. Beverly had never looked at her like that before. She’d been awful to her, had bruised Beverly, but hadn’t really done anything like this. Probably hadn’t ever seemed like the type of girl to do that sort of thing to other girls, to want it from other girls.

In Gretta’s inaction, Beverly darted past her and slammed the door shut. She didn’t hear any yelling, anything to indicate that Beverly was going to tattle. Nobody would believe her, anyway. Beverly was the whore who always insisted she wasn’t one, even though she obviously was, and she was so slutty that nobody would be surprised if she made a pass on Gretta — there was a reason she hung around Trashmouth, anyway. She couldn’t beat herself up for it later, either. If it was what Beverly was good for, nobody could fault Gretta for wanting a taste.

She stared at herself in the mirror, smudged from a bad cleaning job. The song felt like it was going on forever, making her stomach churn. Yeah, You! Come Here, Gimme A Kiss, Better Make It Fast Or Else I'm Gonna Get Pissed—

It didn’t take long for Gretta to start puking bile into the sink.

#one day ill write a healthy relationship between these two #i like my toxic yuri SORRY!!! SORRY!!! GUILTY!!!#gretta keene x beverly marsh #gretta keene #beverly marsh

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