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pedroscurls · 3 months ago

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welcome to broadway (one-shot)

summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

THE TABLE READ

You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly.

You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that.

You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast.

Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him.

He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play.

“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”

You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.”

Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.”

My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?”

“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.”

Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.

“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks.

The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours.

The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called.

“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.”

You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down.

“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”

Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

“Anytime,” he winks.

—

Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”

He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours.

You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!”

Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”

There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue.

As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited.

By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm.

“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?”

“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”

“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.”

You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”

“Do you think we should–”

You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him.

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”

You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?”

Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.”

You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”

“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.”

“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.”

Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.”

—

REHEARSALS

The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times.

Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.

Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours.

“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.”

“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?”

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.”

Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”

Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.”

“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle.

“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you.

You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”

Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips.

You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way.

—

After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box.

“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something.

Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are.

He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.”

The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.”

Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes.

You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”

Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”

“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”

“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly.

“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?”

Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”

You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already.

“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”

“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”

You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”

Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.”

“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.”

Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.”

“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.”

Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result.

The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting.

Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly.

“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks.

Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.”

“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs.

“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more.

“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.

“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him.

Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips.

You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.

Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.

You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.”

Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs.

Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?”

You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.”

Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”

You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”

Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh.

“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.

—

OPENING NIGHT

You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”

You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat.

“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.”

That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle.

Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.”

You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’.

Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues.

Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for.

Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this.

After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing.

And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out.

Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience.

However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you.

It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning.

—

You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another.

It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh.

You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation.

“I’m heading out,” you say softly.

“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.

You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”

Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”

“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”

You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.”

Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.”

You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you.

Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours.

“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand.

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles.

You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him.

He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release.

But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further.

“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you.

You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly.

“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.”

Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you.

Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you.

And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.

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jaspvids · 9 months ago

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The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

#camp camp #camp camp david #cc david

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theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass · 8 months ago

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Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?

Warnings: angst, fluff:3

Word count: ~4.9K

A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3

Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.

Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.

His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.

After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.

“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.

Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.

“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.

Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.

“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.

“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.

“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.

“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.

“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.

“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.

The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.

While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.

“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.

As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.

“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.

You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.

“Really?” Oscar signs.

“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.

“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.

In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.

Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…

The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.

“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.

“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.

“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.

“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.

“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.

It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.

“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.

“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.

“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.

“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”

“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.

And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.

You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”

“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.

Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.

You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”

A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.

Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.

You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.

You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.

Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed.

But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.

That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.

Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.

Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?

You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.

Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.

Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.

Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.

Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.

Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.

After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.

Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.

For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.

“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.

“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.

“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.

Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”

Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?

“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.

“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”

“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”

Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.

There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.

Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.

That is where the spiralling set in.

All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.

It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.

Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…

There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.

Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?

You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.

Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.

He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…

He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.

He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.

Your eyes were his weakness since day one.

But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.

Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.

He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.

Does this mean you will never remember him?

What if you never love him again…

“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.

“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…

Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.

Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.

First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.

But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.

Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.

Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.

You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…

Fourth. You had no idea who you were.

There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.

Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.

You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.

But I knew you,

Dancin' in your Levi's,

Drunk under a streetlight,

I knew you.

All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.

The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.

It played like a movie.

Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.

There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.

Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.

She remembered me. She is crying.

Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.

Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”

“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.

Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.

“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”

As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.

But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.

You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.

By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.

Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.

“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.

Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.

It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.

As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.

Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.

What if it is the end?

What if you don’t want him anymore?

A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.

“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”

“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.

As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.

I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.

That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.

Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.

He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…

He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.

Only he did not know it would be temporary…

Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.

While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.

But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.

Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.

If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…

“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.

yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.

Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.

He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.

“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.

“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.

“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.

“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.

“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.

“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.

“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.

“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.

“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.

“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”

“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.

“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.

Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.

Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.

You’d show him a way, the way you always had.

“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.

Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.

Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.

“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.

“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.

“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”

“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.

Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”

Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5

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intimidating-fettuccine · 7 months ago

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Yandere diaries. || Toby x reader. A new (possible) series I got the idea to do of the creeps doing diaries showing them gradually becoming yandere.

3k words. CW: Yandere, adult content (mentions of arousal and references to masturbation), descriptions of violence and gore, unhealthy relationships, severe abuse, delusions, Toby slipping into insanity and also being an unhonest/unreliable narrator with how awful he’s being.

4/26/22 -

I met someone new today! We bumped into each other at a park I like to go to on Earth. They were so kind to me. We ended up getting ice cream together and exchanging numbers. I hope I can see them again soon.

5/11/22 -

I’ve been able to see them a couple more times. We’ve been messaging regularly, and have also called a couple of times. I’ve never felt so connected to someone so quickly before. We have a lot in common, and they don’t even mind any of my tics or odd quirks. We have a plan to meet up this weekend and go to the movies together, I’m really looking forward to it. I hope we continue to be friends with each other for a long time!

5/14/22 -

I just got home. We had such a fun time at the movies! We saw one of the more recent horror films together. They got scared partway through and clung onto me to feel better, and it made me feel really happy and protective over them. I wouldn’t mind seeing more horror movies with them in the future if it means that they’d do that again. We haven’t known each other very long, but I feel so connected and interested in them, I feel sparks every time they touch me. Is this what falling in love feels like?

6/21/22 -

I haven’t been able to see them for a few weeks because of our schedule differences. I feel like I’ve been excessively sad because of that. I just feel like my life is so much dimmer without them. I wanna go to the park with them again, eat ice cream, and curl up under a tree with them. I wish I could be with them every day.

7/29/22 -

We haven’t known each other for a very long time, but I’m certain they’re the person I’m meant to be with for the rest of my life. They make me the happiest I’ve ever felt, they understand me like nobody has ever understood me before, I just feel so carefree and excited in their presence. I think they might feel the same way about me too. I need to try my best to build up some courage and ask them to be my partner before someone else can.

8/11/22 -

I asked them on a date and they said yes!! I’ve never felt more excited than I am right now!! We’re going on our first date in a few days. I need to make sure I have a nice outfit to wear because I want to take them somewhere nice to eat, and then we’re gonna go for a walk together and stargaze. My life truly feels so complete and wonderful right now, I feel like I’m finally on a path to keep getting better with them in my life!

11/24/22 -

I haven’t been dating them very long, but I convinced Slender to allow me to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner. Normally we have to date our partners for a year, but I just know our relationship is going to work out, so I don’t feel the need to wait that long. They had so much fun meeting everyone, and they were happy the whole time. I felt a bit jealous that they didn’t pay as much attention to me, but that’s okay because there were so many new people they had to meet. I’m sure next time I invite them over they won’t pay anyone else any attention. I’m looking forward to having them over here more often!

12/14/22 -

I got into an argument with Jeff today. I had them over to visit me, and I stepped away for a minute to get us some snacks and Jeff so rudely decided to try and steal their attention from me. It isn’t fair! He was trying to make them laugh and hang out with him instead of me!! I got really angry and I started yelling at him, and he yelled back at me, claiming he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’s not allowed to just walk up to them and act like they’re buddy-buddy. They’re my partner, and they’re here for me. Nobody else has the right to their attention but me.

12/25/22 -

I got to celebrate my first Christmas with them today. We spent a little bit of time downstairs with the others, but then I wanted to bring them upstairs to my room so we could be together alone. I gave them a bracelet with our names on it so that everyone would know they belonged to someone, and they seemed to like it. However, I got a bit upset at them. They said they had to go home so they could celebrate with their friends and family too, but aren’t I good enough? Aren’t I their family now? It doesn’t make any sense to me why they couldn’t just stay at the mansion, but I let them go. I’ll have a talk with them about this later.

1/24/23 -

We had another argument again. They have this friend that keeps overstepping his boundaries and I don’t appreciate it. He’s been hogging their attention recently and hanging out with them more and it’s seriously fucking pissing me off. They wouldn’t stop talking to him so I had to lie to them about him to finally get them to back off from him a bit. I wouldn’t normally want to do that, but it’s for their own good. Nobody should be hogging them away from me that much. Their friends are lucky I even allow them to talk with my dove at all. I think that’s what I’ll start calling them, now that I think about it. My sweet, soaring Dove.

2/17/23 -

I ended up getting into a fight with one of Dove’s friends. I was trying to make sure I could spend Valentine’s with Dove, but this friend wanted to be able to see them that day since he’s going on a trip soon or some other stupid excuse. It pissed me off. IM their boyfriend, that day is for US. I confronted him to get him to back off but he had the nerve to stand his ground. I had to beat the shit out of him to get him to understand his place. It’s been three days, and apparently, he hasn’t contacted them since. Good. One less pest I have to worry about. Dove was a little suspicious when I came home with torn-up knuckles that day, but I just told them it happened during training and they believed me. They even took the time and care to bandage me up. They really are so special to me. Nobody else can have them.

3/18/23 -

I’ve never really thought much about blood before. When it’s on myself or my victims, I’ve never really cared about it, I’ve actually usually thought it was gross, but it was different today. Dove got this gash when we were out on a hike from tripping and slicing their arm on a sharp rock. Normally the blood wouldn’t have bothered me, but it was just so pretty. The red spreading across their skin was just so alluring. Of course, I got them cleaned off and patched up as soon as I could, but my heart is racing just remembering it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope they get cut again soon. I have to confirm if this feeling inside me is real or just a one-off.

3/28/23 -

It wasn’t a one-off. We were cooking, and they were using one of our sharper knives. My curiosity got the better of me, and I “accidentally” bumped into them from behind. They ended up cutting themself, and their blood was just as alluring today, flowing freely out of their finger. I ended up putting their finger in my mouth to suck the blood off, and I’ve never tasted something so intoxicating before. They were a bit confused, but I just played it off and they let it go. Holy shit. I feel like I have to taste it again. I have to. The red on their skin, the metallic lingering taste in my mouth. It’s so addicting. It honestly made me a bit excited, I had to take a moment to myself so they wouldn’t notice.

4/16/23 -

I bit them. We were making out, and I just felt myself getting so worked up. I pinned them down on my mattress, and I started kissing down Dove’s neck. I couldn’t help it, my heart was beating so fast and I felt myself getting dizzy, and I bit them really hard. Their skin was so soft in my mouth, and blood started oozing out, running against my teeth and my tongue, and my lips, it was so warm and exciting, it felt like I was getting drunk. Dove didn’t like it though. They screamed and cried and begged me to stop, and I didn’t want to, but I did. I bandaged them up and apologized and feigned innocence. They said they wanted to go home early, so I took them to not get on their bad side anymore. I was so worked up though. I had to take care of myself when I got home, I was just so turned on. I have to do it again somehow. They won’t like it, but I have to. Nothing has ever felt so pleasing before.

4/29/23 -

I tried to bite them again, and they realized it wasn’t an accident this time. They yelled at me and hit me to get me off of them, and I hit them back much harder. They looked so broken and upset while they cried, but their tears and screams got me just as turned on as their blood did. The bruise that formed on their cheek was so beautiful. I held them close and apologized a whole bunch because I don’t want them to hate me. I cried a lot and I meant it. I promised I wouldn’t do it again, which I guess I didn’t mean. However, they can’t just disobey me like that. I need to try and be on my best behavior so they can be more relaxed around me. I can’t have them fighting back every time I want to do something to them.

5/09/23 -

I think my Dove needs to be caged. They’ve gotten so used to flying free that they need to be grounded and brought back to reality. I keep trying to limit their interactions with others because they keep poisoning my Dove against me, and Dove tried to fight me today. We got in a big yelling match, but I was able to calm myself down in the nick of time so that I didn’t make things worse. I got them to calm down, and we’re gonna have some space between us for a few weeks. I think I’m going to take this opportunity to my advantage.

5/30/23 -

While we haven’t been spending time together, I’ve been working hard. I found an old house in the Underworld for cheap, and I’ve been rebuilding it and fixing it up. I altered it to be able to hold Dove in without their escape, and I’m so excited about it. I’ve got a bedroom I’m setting up for them, and a nice kitchen because they’ve always liked cooking with me. I know Dove is going to love it so much when I bring them here in a few weeks. It’s going to be the best thing for us. Dove is too innocent about the world around them, and I have to be able to protect them. Nobody else can do a better job than I can.

6/08/23 -

[Parts of the entry have been torn. Words are smudged or crossed out and it is not completely legible, but some of it remains visible. *Full translation will be added at the end for those that use translators/text to speech.]

I CAN'T FU—— BELI— TH—!! DOVE WAS TRY— TO MOVE!! THEY W— TRYING TO LE—E ME!! THAT STU— BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TA— THEM F—M ME! WHEN ALL IVE ———— IS PROTECT TH— AND THIS IS —— REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BE— SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LU—Y I had the home re—y! If not, I wo—d’ve just thrown th— in the fucki— basement!!! [Redacted] got wh— they deser—. I be— the- so bad you —— —king recognize —. I’ll du— the bo— som—ere else.

7/06/23 -

Dove hasn’t been making things any easier. Since they last tried to move away things have been such a fucking pain in the ass. They were so scared when I locked them in here. I wanted it to be a warm welcome, where I’d bring them here voluntarily, but they had to go and ruin it because of [Redacted] sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. They tried to run away a few days ago, and I went to write about it but I was so fucking pissed I ripped the page to shreds. I had to break their ankles so that they wouldn’t be able to run again, least not for a long while. I’ve also been keeping them tied up more, but it’s easier now that they can’t walk. The bruises on their legs are just so beautiful. I think I might keep them like this, even though they cry every day from the pain and the circumstances, but their tears are beautiful as well. I have to get more painkillers soon for them.

10/18/23 -

It’s been a while since I’ve updated. Things have been going smoother lately. Every time Dove’s ankles start to heal, I’ve been breaking them again. I just can’t trust them because they tried to escape again. I’ve been enjoying myself a lot more. I can bite them and cut them and hit them whenever I want to. I can taste their blood and chew their skin and bruise their beautiful body however I like. Of course, sometimes it makes me sad when Dove gets so upset about it. I don’t know what to do. It gets me so turned on and riled up like nothing ever has before, but I also want them to love me. They haven’t been fighting back anymore, so I think they’re getting used to it. We’ll see.

12/25/23 -

It’s our second Christmas together. I got Dove a bunch of things they asked for since they’ve been so good. They seem to have given up hope of resisting me, and it’s made me so happy. They even made me a cake for Christmas, and it was so delicious. I’m so happy we can be together again like this, just a happy couple with no interruptions. It’s truly the best gift I could have received this year.

2/16/24 -

I’ve been letting Dove’s ankles and legs fully heal. They truly haven’t been trying anything, and they’ve been so devoted to being a good partner for me, I don’t think I need to break them anymore to teach them a lesson. They can nearly stand on their own now, and they seem so happy. They said it’s because they can hug me while standing, and that made me so happy to hear. We’ve started cooking together again. We’re becoming a happy family, and I’m so glad I was right that Dove is the one for me. They even let me bite them as much as I wanted today, and they let me scratch them too, they didn’t even cry out today. I could tell they were trying really hard, so it made me very happy.

4/25/24 -

Things have still been going well. Their legs have healed up perfectly. It’s been five months since I last broke them, and I think they’re so grateful for it. They don’t disobey me, they do everything I ask, they’re so affectionate and loving with me. It makes me so happy to know that they’re truly settling into life with me. I don’t think they mind how much I hurt them anymore. They don’t complain as much, but they still cry those same beautiful tears for me. I think they’re starting to enjoy it.

5/26/24 -

I have to go on an extended trip for a week soon because of work and I’m nervous. They said they’ll wait happily for me, but I’m still so, so nervous. However, earlier this month I was gone for a few days and they didn’t go anywhere. Dove actually welcomed me back happily. I think we’ll be okay. I think this is it, the true test. I know they’ll pass, but still, I can’t quiet the anxiety in my heart. I’ll have to spend as much time as possible with them and get out all my excitement before I have to leave. I’m going to miss the feeling of their skin beneath my fingers and teeth.

6/11/24 -

[This page has also been smeared and torn in anger. *Another fully corrected version will be at the bottom.]

I — FUCKING BE—VE THEY DI- TH— AG—!!! THEY R— AW—!! THE- STOL- SO MU— —IT FRO- ME!! THEY TO— THE MO—Y I HA- HIDDEN!!!! THE- TOOK FO— AN- CLO—— AN- LEFT!! I- SO FUCK—- ANGRY!!! I'LL K— THEM!!! I JUS- MIGH- FUCK— KIL- THEM!!! AT TH- VER- LEA— THEY— NEVE- WAL- AGAIN! WHEN I ———— NEVER ES— AGAIN! LOCKS, CA—S, CHA—S!! WHAT—— IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to —y FUCKING DIETY in EXIST—— THAT I DON- FIN- —U!!! When I d-, you’re goin- to su——— much for do— th— to me.

6/08/23 -

I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!! DOVE WAS TRYING TO MOVE!! THEY WERE TRYING TO LEAVE ME!! THAT STUPID BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TAKE THEM FROM ME! WHEN ALL IVE FUCKING DONE HERE IS PROTECT THEM AND THIS IS HOW THEY REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BEEN SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LUCKY I had the home ready! If not, I would’ve just thrown them in the fucking basement!!! [Redacted] got what they deserved. I beat them so bad you can't even fucking recognize them. I’ll dump the body somewhere else.

6/11/24 -

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY DID THIS AGAIN!!! THEY RAN AWAY!! THEY STOLE SO MUCH SHIT FROM ME!! THEY TOOK THE MONEY I HAD HIDDEN!!!! THEY TOOK FOOD AND CLOTHES AND LEFT!! IM SO FUCKING ANGRY!!! I'LL KILL THEM!!! I JUST MIGHT FUCKING KILL THEM!!! AT THE VERY LEAST THEY'LL NEVER WALK AGAIN! WHEN I CATCH UP THEY WILL NEVER ESCAPE AGAIN! LOCKS, CAGES, CHAINS!! WHATEVER IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to every FUCKING DIETY in EXISTENCE THAT I DON'T FIND YOU!!! When I do, you’re going to suffer so much for doing this to me.

#yandere #creepypasta yandere #yandere ticci toby #semi-spicy #creepypasta semi-spicy #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby semi-spicy

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ecstarry · 7 months ago

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@rosekillermicrofic / freckles / 551 words / for @star4daisy i truly hope you like it babe, be gentle this is my first time writing them

“You two will not leave this room until you fill out that list. I am sick and tired of your bickering and fighting.”

Evan and Barty did not have time to question their professor as she loudly shut the door and left them alone in an office with a paper sitting at the center of the table. They looked at each other and both of them quickly tried to grab it. Evan was faster but Barty loved to play dirty, he launched himself across the table and bit the paper out of Evan’s fingers.

“Savage!” Evan snapped, yanking his hand back.

“Prude!” A smirk spread across Barty’s face.

“Just read the fucking instructions so we can get out of here, Crouch.” Two minutes alone with his classmate had been more than enough for Evan, he was desperate to finish their “bonding” session as quickly as possible.

His train of thought was interrupted by Barty’s laughter as he handed the crumbled piece of paper back.

“I’m actually excited to see what you come up with.”

Evan’s eyes widened as he read the instructions: name three things you like about the other person.

“This is stupid,” Evan argued, “You couldn’t even say one-”

“Your freckles,” Barty interrupted.

Evan felt a blush creep through his neck as the boy in front of him looked at him with something resembling sincerity in his eyes. Just as the redness reached his cheeks he witnessed Barty’s teasing smile growing.

“You’re fucking with me,” Evan insisted.

“You are actually nice to look at when you’re not trying to make my life miserable, Rosier,” Barty replied. With the tip of his shoe he pulled Evan’s chair closer to him. “Your turn.”

“Fine. Your ass.” Evan muttered as his heart beat grew louder with the proximity of someone he had felt anger and absolute desperation towards for as long as he could remember.

“I thought you were a gentleman.” Barty’s excitement only evoked more confusing emotions on Evan.

“Your turn, Crouch.”

“Fine, you’re kinda smart when you want to be.” Evan once again searched for the signs of sarcasm behind Barty’s dry tone, but there was nothing. For the first time there was no deceiving intention behind the boy’s gaze. Evan’s heart was racing at a concerning speed as his mind tried to make sense of why Barty’s flattery was getting him flustered.

“What is your endgame here, Barty?”

“I got bored of our little game we’ve been playing.” Barty leaned closer to Evan’s face and grabbed the collar of Evan’s polo shirt with his index finger. “I want to play a new one. Your turn, princess.”

The last words echoed in Evan’s mind. He couldn’t think. He wasn’t thinking. He threw himself towards Barty’s lips and pressed them together. They were soft. Barty Crouch had soft lips. Oh. Evan had kissed girls before, even a boy once, but nothing came close to this. Barty had one hand on Evan’s face and the other hopelessly holding onto Evan’s shirt. Soft moans echoed in the small room as they learned new ways their lips could communicate. He would continue to fight with Barty every day for the rest of the year if it meant he would end up here, under the undivided attention of this boy.

He liked this new game.

#rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #marauders #microfic #barty crouch jr.#evan rosier #barty x evan #evan x barty #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr #barty crouch x evan rosier

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venusvxen · 1 year ago

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The 3D Cannot Create.. So Why Do You Create Fear?

I’ve been having a recent epiphany that has helped me understand the law better and helped me get rid of fear or at least self soothe when i feel fearful cus I don’t believe in stripping ourselves of our emotions…

I would say “the 3d cannot create” everyday for a YEAR but it wasn’t until a few days ago when i had a lightbulb moment… the 3D… really … cannot create.. it’s nothing more than a mirror… so why do I FEAR my shadow and expect it to show me something different.. why do i fool myself into believing i am the shadow and not the being that casts the shadow??

We fulfill ourselves within our imagination and get so stoked about our desire.. then we leave imagination and come down to the 3d world and bombarded with all the things the senses throw at you. now you start doubting.. you start counting down the time bc it’s been xyz long and you think it’ll never happen.. I literally always do this…

But then i thought to myself… the 3d cannot create any of those scenarios im envisioning… it’s my twin.. it is a shadow.. whatever I experience in the 4d is what i MUST experience in the 3d no matter what because self MUST be expressed

I’ll literally get so confident then expect the 3d to show me otherwise and be fearful and start asking myself what if it doesn’t happen and but if there is no separation between the 3d n 4d and all is imagination…. why would you NOT get it? … seriously… because the only way all those negative scenarios would happen is through persisting in them… it’s all imagination at the end of the day..

the relationship between the 3d and 4d is a simple input and output it’s just us who overcomplicate it because of all the baggage we’ve assigned to the law and all the things we’ve internalized about what we can or cannot do. if you assume something in imagination it MUST come to pass. just like if you go up you must come down. it’s a 1+1=2 situation and yet i complicate it so much…

but at the end of the day.. the materialization is guaranteed … because self must be expressed.. self is the only thing being expressed in this world bc the 3d cannot create..

after having this epiphany i’ve been able to self soothe and talk myself out of fear by reminding myself of this.. the 3d is my dutiful shadow. it follows in my footsteps.. whatever i experience in my real reality i must experience in the physical no matter what. I don’t care if it’s the day before an event and the pieces haven’t fell into place yet.. it MUST happen.. but only if you have confidence in this.. because I’ve noticed wavering is why we have wonky results..

but why do we waver?

We waver because deep down we think there is a separation between the imaginal and the physical. we think the physical is acting on its own outside of us and can create. which is why try as we might to maintain a state of confidence.. for the “big” things or the things that seem “out of reach”,, results may be spotty because we think our imaginal experiences aren’t enough and we convince ourselves that any of the things happening on the outside are out for our control

the truth is all that’s missing is confidence… a knowing.. an unshakeable conviction that what we say will happen MUST happen and WILL happen.. but the only way to do this is to truly understand that the 3d is your reflection and it can’t possibly show you anything you haven’t experienced…

I personally am now so so so excited for the end of the year and am looking forward to school (something i DREADED).. because i know a specific event MUST take place now which will change my life. why? because the real me experienced it in imagination and self must be expressed. why would my 3d show me something different unless i continuously waver and imagine something different.. if i experienced it why wouldn’t it push out? this realization has helped me be excited about things i was previously anxious about

i feel like the thing w the law is how “simple” it is but it’ll take you years to understand a simple concept. i hope you guys get what i’m saying here

#master manifester #manifesting tips #loa #loa blog #loablr #loa tumblr #the law of assumption #neville goddard #3d reality #4d reality #manifesting #manifestation #manifestation talk

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d-criss-news · 21 days ago

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Darren Criss and Helen J Shen Make Robots Feel More Human in Maybe Happy Ending

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Darren Criss and Helen J Shen are currently starring in Maybe Happy Ending, a new musical at the Belasco Theatre where they play two retired Helper-bots who formerly assisted humans with their day-to-day tasks. Set in the future and directed by Michael Arden (Parade, Once On This Island), the show takes the audience on a journey through love, loss, and belonging. It’s received rave reviews on Broadway after first debuting in South Korea, then moving to Japan, China, and Atlanta, Georgia.

This marks Criss’s return to Broadway after stints in American Buffalo, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. He also starred as Blaine Anderson in Glee and won an Emmy Award for his performance as Andrew Cunanan in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. Shen is making her Broadway debut after recently graduating from the University of Michigan.

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Darren Criss: I was about to go into tech rehearsal for American Buffalo at the top of 2020, an American contemporary classic play with Sam Rockwell and Laurence Fishburne. I was like, “Wow, dude, the show is cooking. I’m opening this on Broadway. All these incredible things are happening.” Then, it was no more. I feel like I went through the pandemic with these two men [Rockwell and Fishburne], because we were all so excited to be part of this show. We would FaceTime regularly, read through the play, and talk about life. The show went on in our minds. We weren’t sure if we were ever going to get to do it.

That was something we kept chugging through, and we finally got to come back in ’22 with some of these things which now seems so in the rearview mirror: COVID restrictions and testing and audiences wearing masks. We were very diligent about all that stuff, and luckily we’re on the other side of that.

But at that time, that show was the longest I’d ever been on Broadway. The poster for that show at Circle in The Square [Theater] remained there for two and a half something years, even though the show hadn’t ever opened.

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Talkback On their initial reactions to Maybe Happy Ending:

Criss: I think the best stories we’ve heard are the ones we weren’t prepared to hear. It’d be like if Batman wasn’t as culturally ubiquitous as it is, and I tried to pitch you Batman. You’d be like, “That sounds so dumb. Rich guy fights a clown? This sounds absolutely ridiculous, and there’s no way this is going to be one of the most popular IPs the world has ever seen.”

That is what’s so exciting: When you feel people in the audience truly not knowing what’s going to happen, whether production-wise or as a spectacle. You don’t know if some things are going to look a certain way, you don’t know things are going to sound a certain way, and you don’t know if the story is going to feel a certain way.

Musicals live and die by their music. I love Shakespeare, but I’m not listening to Shakespeare in the car on the way to work in the subway. Musicals have that. They have this sort of extracurricular component that you can have forever after the fact. When I listened to the music, I was like, “Oh, wait. Hang on. This is really special. Why is this so smart? Why is this so beautiful and elegant and sophisticated and familiar and nostalgic?”

That keyed me in. And then I read the script and I went, “Wait, hang on.” I am glad that I was available to do it, because I think it’s one of the greatest things that could have happened to me at this point in my life.

Shen: It felt like a very kismet meeting of minds and hearts and souls and stuff. Still to this day, I’m like, “Thanks for having me, you guys.”

Criss: This was a train that was bound for glory with or without us.

On what they’ve learned from each other:

Criss: We went to University of Michigan together. That’s certainly a fun relating point, and something that I’m really proud of, the fact that two U of M alums share the marquee of the Belasco Theater. That’s so special.

But, to keep using the academic reference, I am an upperclassman now, which is very strange for me, as I kind of crossfade into that chapter of my life. I’ve always been the young gun. Now, being on the other side of that, I feel like I’ve been given a role of, “Okay, I am a senior now. I tell the freshmen what’s what, and hopefully, I’m saying something correct.” It’s an occasion I have to rise to. In rehearsals, from the very beginning, the loud voices of doubt were certainly prominent. I think Darren, Michael, the people who have more experience in the industry, and just experience in existing in these spaces, have taught me how to not apologize for my space that I take up, which is something that I think I’m still processing and still will continue to be processing throughout.

On what this show means for Asian-American representation on Broadway:

Shen: It means everything to me. If I was sitting in the audience, to see a show like this, to see someone who looks like me embody this character, be nuanced, be flawed, be all the kinds of things, instead of just the flavoring of a body, is everything to me.

Growing up, if you don’t see an example on the path that you’re choosing, it can feel impossible. You feel like, “Oh, there’s one spot.” That is so frustrating, to feel that sense of competition with people who look like me, instead of feeling like I stand in solidarity with them and stand in power next to them.

It’s been amazing to talk to people at the stage door who are like, “I’ve never seen myself represented on stage in this way.” I’ve never felt it where my Asian-ness isn’t the only thing that is my character. To have my Asian-ness be just a fact [of my character] is so much. It means so much to me. To see my parents see that, too. They wanted to protect me so much. They wanted me not to feel pain in this industry, and for them to see that I can inspire others is probably really exciting for them, and exciting for me too.

Criss: Everything that has happened for this show thus far was not on my itinerary. The response has been wonderful, but that’s not why we’re doing it. It’s not why we’re here. We’re in it because we found a beautiful story that we fell in love with, and we’re lucky enough to be asked to join it. It’s better to pursue something you love and potentially fail than succeed at something that you can’t stand. We’re in that rarefied wave, which is the combination of your passion and excitement matching those who are outside of it.

I want to be very clear about this, I think what I love about this show’s heart and soul is not that it is an Asian show. It is inhabited by Asian-American actors, and those Asian-American actors represent something really beautiful. I love the idea that in the future, this is a show that can have anybody from any background in it, because the story is so enduring and such a human story. My million dollar clickbait line is that I believe that the show is about as Korean as Romeo and Juliet is Italian. It’s just where we set our scene.

Now, at the same time, fuck yeah—Asian excellence on Broadway. It’s really exciting. Having any kind of representation in any mainstream commercial form of entertainment is wonderful.

On Elsie Fest, Broadway’s Music Festival, which Criss co-created and produces every year:

Criss: Elsie is such a passion project for me. It’s for this community that I love so very much, and I’m so pleased that it’s taken on a bit of a life of its own. I will keep doing it for as long as I can.

Having people like Helen, and the new guns, like Joy Woods, Lizzy McAlpine, and Rachel Zegler, people who will show up to be a part of this, is so encouraging to me. It gives me such faith in a community that I already have endless faith in and love and appreciation for. It is my small way of thanking this community for what it has given my life and trying to give it back in whatever way that I can.

Shen: Elsie, to me, it’s a love letter to the inner child, to the inner theater kid that we all are continuously. I have been a fan of this, obviously, for years. I can’t believe I got to sing A Very Potter Musical this year.

Criss: Andrew Barth Feldman was at the first Elsie Fest ever in 2015, almost 10 years ago, a little brace-faced teenager at the VIP meet and greet to meet StarKid, my friends from Michigan who made A Very Potter Musical, and there he was almost 10 years later singing the song that he was there to support with us. That is the best.

#darren criss #elle magazine #helen j shen #maybe happy ending #maybe happy ending bway #press #dec 2024

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calliecwrites · 5 months ago

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Shifter HRT, part 3 – Rebirthday

I had the appointment. I passed the test. I’ve got the little package that will change everything.

I hold it tight all the way home. Part of me is still angry at my contact for messing with me like that – and the rest is in something like stunned amazement that I actually have it.

Now I’m home. I open it up.

There are two kinds of pills. First there’s antihominidone. That’s the humanity blocker, the one that lets my body change and stops it trying to change back. People transitioning to lots of different species take this one.

Then there’s the other one, the one that does the hard work of actually changing me. ‘Shifterising hormone’, it says on the label – they don’t even have a scientific name for it. There’s a little instruction book with doses – one of each a day – but it doesn’t say a lot about side effects or timelines. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, going DIY – this isn’t stuff you’d get from a doctor, after all. Almost no one’s been through this before. It’s super experimental, and I’m the experiment. The whole process takes two to three years, but what to expect when is pretty vague.

This is when my anxiety kicks in. Experimental treatment? Becoming another species? What am I doing?

I take one of the hormone pills out. It’s a clear capsule full of liquid. I turn it over, and the liquid slowly drops from one end to the other. It’s thick and gooey, which makes sense, since I’m going to be gooey. It looks a bit like the fluid shifters are made of, but without the life of the real thing. How do they make this stuff? Do they distil it from their own bodies or something? It’s not made of dead shifters, is it? Geez, I hope it’s not made of dead shifters. —Nope, nope, not thinking that way. Lots of other things are gooey. It could be anything. It could be literal magic, for all I know.

They’re so secretive, since they don’t want anyone else figuring out how to make it. Maybe I should save some and smuggle it to the other groups who are trying to? No, who am I kidding, this is for me – I’m not wasting a single drop.

Stop. Focus.

Changing species is much bigger than changing gender, but somehow it doesn’t feel quite as scary as that did – because this time, I’ve been through something like this before. I’ve sat here, scared and desperate, staring at pills that might as well be magic, before. Looking back, it doesn’t feel like I ‘changed’ gender at all – I just stopped pretending to be something I wasn’t. Sounds easy. Sounds obvious. Hopefully, one day, I’ll look back and this will feel the same.

I trust myself so much more than I did back then. I was right the first time, and that makes me confident I’m right this time, too.

And my friends and family? We’ve been through the fire together once. The ones who would leave left then – that’s what I tell myself. But I don’t really know how anyone will react to this. That’s a problem for another day.

The first two pills are on the table in front of me. Here goes.

* * *

It’s done. I’ve taken it. I feel all tingly, though surely it can’t be having an effect already. I think that’s just the excitement and the fear and everything.

I call the day I started estrogen ‘Rebirthday’, because that’s how it felt. I never thought I’d have another day like that. Now I have one birthday and two rebirthdays. I am a shifter. Even through all my doubts and fears, I can truly say that now, for the first time. I want to laugh. I want to cry.

I am a shifter. I am me. I know the next few years will be hard, I know there will be pain, but I can’t wait.

This is what I am.

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Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@aiden-nevada @avery-victoria-winterlight @leahnardo-da-veggie @mint-and-authoress @sandyca5tle

@scrubbinn @therian-lesbian @wuwojiti

#shifter hrt #animal hrt #species hrt #otherkin hrt #therian hrt #slimefolk #shapeshifters #transgender #trans #writing #writeblr #my writing #short story

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter Two)

Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.

Chapter Summary | A girl, granted reprieve from her cell, but is the extravagant room you find yourself in now just a guided cage? A prince, unsure of himself and what to do, let's his temper get the better of him.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU)

Chapter Warnings | Grumpy/Angry Joel. Introduction of some famous friends we all know and love, a girl who has essentially been kidnapped, discussion of food and alcohol but nothing else yet.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors Note | I am so blown away by the love the first part of this received! I didn't ever think that AU's would be my thing but I'm so excited by this story and I'm excited to bring your part 2! For those of you who loved and enjoyed the original Beauty and The Beast, there's some scenes here which are just for you! I'd love to know your thoughts so if you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't!) then please consider reblogging, commenting or leaving me some asks! And if you'd like to support me further, you can leave a tip on my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Did you see her?” One conspiratorial voice asks in a hushed whisper.

“Poor thing, was scared to death,” The other voice responds, “He’s never going to break the curse if he behaves like this every time someone comes wandering through.”

There is a third voice added to the mix, “What do you mean, every time someone wanders through?” This voice is sarcastic, “This is the first time in years we’ve seen a single soul.”

“Maybe this our chance?” The second voice suggests, “Women like her don’t stumble upon souls like us often.”

“You really think she could be the answer?” It’s the first voice speaking again, “If the master had thrown me in a cell, I don’t think I could ever forgive him.”

It’s the second voice that decides the plan of action, “There is simply only one way to find out and that is to try.”

It’s late and Joel has a headache. With the passage of time, he’s stopped thinking of himself a Prince. He might still have his servants and his castle, which is crumbling around him, but outside of that, he is no better than any other man, no different from the people in the villages that surround his once magnificent estate. They don’t remember him; he doesn’t really remember them. He thinks, over the glass of wine he drinks, that it’s probably for the best. All the power and attention had gone to his head, wasting his father’s money on extravagant parties, guests whose names he didn’t know. They weren’t there for him, only for what he offered. They’d have gone to any party where the wine was good, and the music made them soar.

He finishes the wine in his glass when there is a tentative knock at the door. If it wasn’t for the wine jug being empty, he’d have told whoever it was to leave him alone, to leave him to his nightly stupor, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough.

“Enter.” He calls out.

The door to the reception room opens and closes behind him, then the sound of footsteps and the empty jug being swapped for one that is full. Joel waits for the footsteps to start receding again, but they don’t. He clamps his jaw, trying not to lose his temper. They know to leave him alone in the evenings. Only to come to him to refill his drink at hourly intervals and leave with minimal talk. It was a routine they’d fallen into since the beginning.

“What will you do with her?”

It’s Lucian’s voice. Strange, Joel thinks. It’s normally Horace who oversees his nightly refills. The old man clearly didn’t have the courage for this conversation. If he wasn’t so fucking angry, he’d almost praise the younger man.

“Haven’t decided.”

Joel turns his head to look at the man. He’s smaller than Joel is, considerably, even before he was turned into a towering monster. Blonde hair with pointed features, and a stature that was so uncharacteristically rigid this evening, that Joel almost laughs.

“Might I offer a suggestion?” He speaks.

“You might,” Joel scoffs, “Doesn’t mean I’ll listen.”

He clears his throat as he pours wine into his cup, perhaps hoping the alcohol might placate his master.

“She is a girl, and we are running out of time, my lord.”

“Your powers of observation have always been astounding, Lucian,” Joel replies gruffly, sipping at the fresh cup of wine, “She trespassed, she must face the consequences.”

“I’m not suggesting she doesn’t,” Lucian assures, “But surely one evening locked in the tower is enough, my Lord, she was terrified.”

“And then what?”

“Maybe we bring her down to one of the rooms, make her feel comfortable?” He suggests.

“So, she breaks into my home, and we reward her, is what you’re suggesting?” Joel turns, face warmed by the fire burning in front of him.

“I’m suggesting that she is our only hope, sir,” Lucian is pleading now, “Another petal fell this week, none of us have much time left, or we’re damned to remain like this forever.”

Joel ponders for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. If it had just been himself under the curse, he’d leave the silly girl where she was, but it isn’t just him. He’s got his servants to think about, although they don’t know it, they are more his friends than anything else now, the only people he has spoken to in years, and he knows they’re tired.

He waves a hand in Lucian’s general direction, picking up the wine glass that is now full, “Do as you will, but she is not to stray to the West Wing, if I find her there, it won’t just be her that ends up back in a cell, understood?”

“Clearly, sir.”

The sun greets you early, peering in through the open gaps in the wall, meant to be a window, but only acting as a taunt for its prisoners. You could clearly see outside, out to freedom, but there was no way to reach it. At some point during the night, Phillipe had disappeared, no longer tied to the gate that you can see from the gap. You curse to whichever God will listen for your rotten luck, even if you could escape, the lack of horse would mean you wouldn’t get far before you were struck down by something, or worse, recaptured.

You lean your back against the wall and bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs to try and comfort yourself. The ground is cold and you find yourself wishing for some straw or something, anything to act as a barrier between you and the cold ground you’d spent the night on.

A little while later you can hear footsteps traveling up the stairs. Maybe now, in the harsh light of day, you’d finally see your captors face. Put features to the deep gruff voice and the large hands that had gripped you last night. It wasn’t to be. The man who comes into view is nowhere near large enough to be the same man who threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour from the miller. This man looks friendly enough when he comes to kneel in front of the bars of your cell. Light blonde hair and a clean face, with friendly eyes. You want to trust him, but this could all be some kind of sick joke at your expense.

“I brought you some food,” The mystery man speaks, placing a plate down on the ground as he unlocks the cell door, “Are you hungry?” He asks, pushing the plate through the small open gap, kneeling on the floor outside so you’re of a similar height.

You shake your head and push the plate away with your foot – you have no idea what it could be laced with, even if it is just a lump of bread and some cheese. You try and curl in on yourself, make yourself smaller, hoping whoever this is will take the hint and leave you be.

“The master can be quite… abrasive,” He starts, “But he means well.”

You are vaguely aware of another set of feet making their way up the stairs, slower than this man had, but you push it to the back of your mind, “Abrasive?” You snort, “He locked me in a cell for walking through an open door, he is nothing more than a brute!”

The man in front of you holds his hands up in surrender at your outburst, just in time for another man, still nowhere near large enough to be your captor, to walk up the stairs, clutching at his chest as he caught his breath.

“I implore you Lucian,” He speaks with a deep voice, still trying to catch his breath, “You leave her where she is, the master didn’t give you express permission for this.”

“Charming,” You mumble, “Wait, leave me where I am?” Your head perks, “Where else would I go?”

The man who you now know is Lucian smiles, a genuine, friendly smile, which goes a small way in putting you at ease, “Well, this is no place for a beautiful girl like you, is it?” You return his smile because at this point, you think you’d do anything to not spend another second in this damp cell, “How about we take you somewhere more comfortable?”

“This is a terrible idea,” The older man, with a full beard and greying hair on his head to match speaks, “I really do think we should leave her here.”

“Horace, will you please shut up,” Lucian turns and chides him, “Look at her,” He tilts his head back towards you, “She’s terrified, she can’t stay here, and if the master asks, I’ll take the fall.”

He extends a hand to you and after weighing up another night spent in this cell, you let your own slip into his. Lucian pulls you to your feet and helps brush off some of the dirt from the skirt of your dress, as he motions for you to walk in front of him, “Follow that oaf back down the stairs,” He chuckles, “He’ll be slow going because of his knees.”

The room that you find yourself in now is a complete juxtaposition to a huge amount of the rest of the castle. None of the windows are broken, it doesn’t smell like the damp musk of the rest of the place, and the bed looks so comfortable you might cry. Your back is screaming from the night on the stone floor of the cell so you don’t think twice about flopping down onto the bed, letting the soft sheets and the mattress sink below you. You’re almost convinced you could fall asleep, until there is a loud knock at the door and then a woman, followed by a small boy invading the room.

“Oh you must have had a ghastly night up there,” She exclaims, “Only one thing for it, and that’s a strong cup of tea,” She’s picking up a tea pot and pouring the warm liquid into a cup, stirring in some milk and sugar, before the saucer is held in your direction. You take it gratefully and drink, letting it warm your bones, “Drink up dear, we’ve got a lot to do.”

“I’m sorry…” You trail off, “I’m lost?”

“That dress has seen far better days,” She points to your clothes, understandably covered in grime from your night in the cell, “And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished, now come on, before Madame Audra appears.”

You take another sip of the tea, as you watch the young boy rummaging around the room, “And who might you be?” You ask, smiling as he turns to face you.

“I’m Oliver, Miss,” He smiles widely, walking towards you, “But everyone here calls me Chip.”

“Chip?” You ask, a giggle to your voice.

“Yeah!” He exclaims, getting as close to you as he possibly can, lifting his lip to show you his teeth, “Because I fell and chipped my tooth, see?”

“Oh! How rude of me!” The older woman who has been fussing over the tea trolley exclaims, “I’m Mrs Thompson, and Chip here is my boy, and we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable here.”

There’s another swift knock at the door before it’s kicked open to reveal a woman, younger than Mrs Thompson but still older than you, arms laden with so many materials that she can barely see over the top of the pile. She’s bustles into the room and drops them on the bed, immediately taking hold of the cup of tea you were enjoying to set back on the tea trolley. She grabs hold of your wrists and pulls you up from the bed, holding up your arms and running you over with her eyes, as if she’s sizing you up. Turns out that’s exactly what she’s doing.

Whilst she’s fussing over the pile of what turns out to be dresses, you take a closer look at her. She’s beautiful, with smooth skin and friendly eyes, much like the rest of the gang you’ve met today. You wonder how these people have stayed so positive under the employment of such a horrid man. This woman in front of you can only be Madame Audra, and she’s dressed to the nines. You’d read about women like her in your books. Women of high society, with powdered faces and hair that towered on their heads, gowns made of silk and ribbons. She is quite possibly everything you had wanted to find in this world.

“Now, I’m going to leave you in Madame Audra’s capable hands, we’ve got dinner to prepare, haven’t we Chip?” Mrs Thompson explains, steering the tea trolley out of the room with Chip on her heel.

As the door closes you can hear Chip speaking to his mother, “See, I told you she pretty, mama.”

You smile, turning your attention back to Madame Audra, who is holding up a simple dress, the colour of sugared almonds. You remember when your father had brought some back from the city, years ago. You’d eaten them with your mother, already sick and in bed. One of the few good memories you still held of her.

“This will do nicely,” Madame Audra nods, holding it against your body, “The master will like this, and it’ll look lovely in the glow of the dining hall.”

“Oh, but I’m…”

“Well come on, let’s get you out of these dirty things.”

“I’m very grateful,” You start, a hand placed on her arm as she tries to turn you to undo the back of the dress you’re already wearing, “But I won’t be going for dinner.”

She stops dead in her fussing over you, eyes wide, “Oh but you must.” She implores.

“I won’t sit opposite a man who threw me in a cell for waking through an open door.” You stand your ground.

She’s about to open her mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door. It opens to reveal Horace, the man from earlier, straight-backed and serious.

“Dinner is served, my Lady.”

Joel is pacing, mainly through frustration more than anything else, as Lucian and Mrs Thompson set the dining table ready to begin the execution of their master plan. There is a roaring fire lit, warming the room, and all sorts of dishes being carried out and placed upon the table. It’s nothing short of a feast, if he closes his eyes, he could even convince himself that he was the man he once was and he wasn’t about to sit down with a girl who had trespassed into his home and was now seemingly being rewarded for it. If he’s honest with himself, he also might be a little nervous.

He'd been careful last night to stay in the shadows. He’s not really sure why, because at that point, all he was ever going to do with her was leave her up there to rot, but now he’s glad, glad that he hadn’t seen the look of repulsion on her face as he stepped into the light, showing the mottled skin of his face, scarred and textured as if someone had held his face to a flame for too long.

“What is taking her so long?” He finally lets out, exasperated, mainly because the food is going cold.

Mrs Thompson stands near the fire, her hands clasped in front of her, “Do try to be patient, my Lord, the girl has lost her freedom in less than a day, it’s going to take her some time.”

Lucian decides to add his two pence to the situation, setting down the fork he’s been pointlessly polishing to pass time, “Have you thought that maybe she might be the one to break the spell?” He asks, hope lacing his voice.

“Of course I have!” Joel exclaims, turning around to face him, “I’m not a fucking fool.”

Lucian holds his hand up in surrender like he always does, but then claps them together, “Well then, it’s settled,” He exclaims, “You fall in love with her,” He holds out one hand, “She falls in love with you,” His other hand now held out, “The spell is broken, and we all go back to normal.”

“Oh Lucian,” Mrs Thompson sighs, “It’s not that easy, love takes time.”

Joel can feel his stomach sinking, hope had flourished before, at the idea that perhaps this might work, that these people who have surrounded him for years might be right, but when he thinks to the way he looks, face scarred, frame so big he would scare anyone who saw him, he realizes it’s no use. The enchantress had been right, no-one could ever learn to love him.

“It’s no use,” He sighs, teeth gritted in frustration, he’s got a hand on the mantle above the fire, clenched in a fist, “She’s so beautiful,” He admits, because you are, even when fear had covered your features, you were quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, “And I’m like this.” He points to his face.

Mrs Thompson moves to stand closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, “Then you need to help her see past all this, don’t scare her with that intimidating scowl you always wear.” She points to his face.

“And when she comes in,” Lucian adds, “Smile at her, make her feel welcome.”

Joel listens back and forth as the two of them give him advice on how to behave when the girl finally arrives. Compliment her. But be sincere. Impress her with your whit. But be gentle. But above all, you must control your temper.

It’s almost overwhelming, he can feel anger and embarrassment flooding through his body. He’s about to demand they stop when the door opens. He holds his breath, standing up straight, but then it’s only Horace’s portly figure that emerges over the threshold.

“Where is she?” Joel demands.

“Well, you see,” Horace begins, “Circumstances being what they are….” He trails off, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the wrath he knows he’s about to be on the receiving end of, “She’s not coming.”

“What?” Joel speaks calmly, although there is rage flowing through his veins, threatening to bubble over at any time.

Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s stomping, feet heavy, from the dining hall. He can feel everyone else following being him, but all he can focus on is how rude this girl is being. Beautiful, but the most stubborn woman he’s ever met, and he’s known her for less than a day. How dare she refuse him? He should have left her where she was to rot in the tower.

There is a pounding at the door, so fierce you’re surprised it doesn’t break, “You were told to come down to dinner!”

You look towards Madame Audra who has fear in her eyes, imploring you to placate whoever the man is currently shouting at you, but you can’t. He’s taken your freedom; you won’t let him control you as well.

“I’m not hungry!”

“You come out right now, or I will break down this door!”

Unbeknownst to you, it isn’t just the master on the other side of the door, but Mrs Thompson, Lucian and Horace too. They’re all looking at each other, knowing that the talk they’d had with Joel in the dining hall has been forgotten, his anger taking over as it always does. They’re all trying to convince each other to talk, through knowing looks, surely one of them can help salvage this situation.

It is Lucian who takes the initiative, “Master, I could be wrong,” He rubs his hands together in front of him, his own nervous habit showing through, “But that probably isn’t the best way to win the girls affections.”

“Please, just attempt to be a gentleman.” Horace adds, making sure he’s standing behind Lucian, so he has a chance to escape if Joel feels the need to take his anger out on anyone.

“How can I when she’s being so difficult?!” Joel hisses, pointing towards the door.

“Just ask her nicely,” Mrs Thompson implores, “Don’t demand.”

Joel takes a deep breath and turns back to the door, the three pairs of eyes trained on his back as he digs deep and tries to remember what it means to be a gentleman, though he’s not been one for some time.

“Will you come down to dinner?”

The answer is almost instant, “Absolutely not.”

Horace is already trying to tame Joel’s frustration when he turns back around to them, “Gentle, be suave, my Lord.”

Another sigh, and another turn back to the door, his voice strained, trying to control his anger to destroy something from the rejection, “It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner, please.” He speaks through gritted teeth, not quite believing that he is the one begging when she was the one who trespassed.

“No thank you!” You call back through the door.

“You can’t stay in there forever!”

“Yes I can!”

“Fine!” Joel shouts, “THEN YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND STARVE!” He bellows at the top of his lungs, turning around to his servants who are cowering across the hall from him, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!”

He stalks off back down the corridor, slamming the door at the end of it shut behind him. Madame Audra leaves the girl’s room, looking to her fellow servants before shaking her head. She’s not quick enough in closing the door, because all four of them can hear the racking sobs coming from the room.

“Well, that went terribly.” Mrs Thompson muses, wanting nothing more than to storm into the girl’s room and embrace her.

“Lucian, you stay right here,” Horace directs, slipping right into his role as head of the household in a crisis, “If she attempts to leave, you inform me immediately,” He runs a hand over his greying beard, “We need to be careful with this, she’s a firecracker, and anymore wrong moves and he’ll have her right back up in the cell,” Then he turns to Mrs Thompson and Madame Audra, “Household meeting in the kitchens.”

taglist: @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy@darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @patti7dc@drewharrisonwriter @casa-boiardi @partyofone3413

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hanasnx · 9 months ago

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diff anon but what fandoms did you meet your close moots through? i don’t know if that counts as indy lore

that counts! more under the cut. i wanted to talk about all my mutuals

@its-clockwork-princess one of my best, oldest, and dearest friends. years and years of friendship, roleplay, fanfiction, writing. every time i see a duo on screen or in any media my first thought is always her and my second thought is always “us.” we went through a thousand different fandoms and i can’t remember our first but we definitely bonded heavily over fandoms like marvel, dc, and fnaf at the very early stages of our friendship. her dad was actually dating my mom for a long time, which gave us plenty of time together. literally cant even summarize everything we’ve gone through together, everything we’ve built, seriously been friends for a decade and i plan on staying that way for the rest of my life. i cant imagine my life without her, how bleak and colorless it would’ve been. i’m honored to know such a generous and kind person, and someone who helped shape me into who i am today. a love truly unconditional.

@ohgodmyeyes loved his takes on anakin, thought he was so real and so down to earth even though he could stand to be more egotistical considering how talented he is. i think about a certain post he made about anakin -> vader's dick literally once a day. i'm not even exaggerating at all when i say it was my roman empire. in just that small amount of time i was taught his quiet confidence, his exquisite way with words, and his unapologetic thought process. i maintain a distance from him because i'm playing the long game and from what i've seen on his personal posts i feel like he might be overwhelmed if i come on too strong, as i often do. but that doesn't stop me from grinning every time i see him in my notifs and i get to think, "this message was approved by ohgodmyeyes." very proudly.

@somuchfrstardust we talked in the comment section of anakin edits on tiktok i feel like and then i was like "hey wanna be friends" and we haven't talked in a while but that's totally cool, that's just how i am. i still consider them my friend i think they're a rly cool person.

@banakinbabygirl was one of the first anakin/hayden blogs i followed, i love how they write smut. it's a very emotional way of writing, very heavy on the descriptions and realistic reactions that drew me in and kept me there.

@starmanskywalker is one of my favorite writers in general. anything on her masterlist is an instant recommendation from me, instant like, instant reblog, instant indy review. i'm such a jealous person in general but the way i feel about alanis' writing is beyond jealousy. it's admiration, it's fondness, it's awe. i don’t feel envious i feel fulfilled. i was very proud to become her mutual, her friend, be on a first name basis with her, and write fanfiction with her. we have a collab we've been working on for a while but because we're both so busy and it's such a big project it takes a lot of time and a lot of love, but i'm still so excited for the day it's finished and can be published.

@xstarkillerx is so much more than a person i met on the internet. truly one of my best friends, and i can’t imagine not having him in my life. there’s so much i can say that i have actually already said on this blog before. donnie has a way with seeing the world i just love to hear about. i’ll ask his opinions and experiences on everything simply to hear what he, specifically, has to say about it. when we have conversations inhibitions are left at the door for the both of us instead of just me. i feel skinless, muscle-less, body-less with donnie. an entity obsessed with him on discord as we write novels to each other, sonnets about how we view the world and its fictions. donnie is my bread and butter, and i’m so glad i found him and stalked him and forced him to be my friend and now he’s reliant on me just like i want.

@weixuldo such a sweet person and very understanding of me and my boundaries. i first found wei’s blog through their fanart of darth vader which i loved so much i sent every single one of their posts to my best friend who i mentioned at the beginning of this post. i still go back to look at those works every so often to brush up on my love for them. such a talented artist i’m very happy i’m worthy of a follow back, and that we enjoy each other’s content.

@mcondance i met through hobie brown back in june 2022. i loved how they kept luring me to their page by mentioning me and my hobie works they kept reading, i swear they were using my vanity as bait and it worked. they are, genuinely, so fucking funny. i only have friends that are funny don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about jupie that when i’m talking about them to other people, that person is like “omg jupie is so funny.” like. jupie just transcends my sense of humor to other people’s. they’re funny to the masses. i’m very bad at texting, but jupie is a person i try to reach out to so they know i’m virtually loving on them. they like the attention. another writer i’m so pleased to be mutuals with when they’re so skilled at the part of writing i always feel like i’m most wooden at. the side of smut writing that takes feeling and sensation and even an edge of genuine horniness, jupie is so good at translating that onto a page.

@murdrdocs is another mutual i gained from the height of the hobie brown era and i believe i saw her content through jupie’s page. now we don’t get to talk too much but that doesn’t mean i don’t think she’s not a super cool person. i don’t read much, but the things i do get to read specifically on icarus’ page make me very proud to be her mutual. not only is she an accomplished and gorgeous writer, but her blog designs are always envy-inducing. she shifts her aesthetics so seamlessly—even tho i know how changing a theme can be draining and time-consuming—and it’s always easy on the eyes. her navigation is especially creative and i’ll never forget her newspaper clipping themed announcement for last kinktober.

@princessbrunette another writer i’m constantly in awe of. i met her through her anakin works, and invited myself onto her kinktober taglist when she was still a relatively new blog that’s how much i was instantly attracted to her work. her style is so distinct and so refined, i can overlook non canon work because hers is just that good. she’s also very funny, and has a gifted silver tongue. i’m always impressed with how she’s able to paint a picture in her pieces using nothing but the most concise and visualizing words. it’s not often that i watch something because a friend watched it, but i watched obx for her so i could still enjoy her work that’s how much i love it. our universes we create in our dms are so special to me.

@empiresheir was someone i met through their anakin one-shot about order 66 which i’ve reblogged several times and it’ll never be enough. it was such a good piece i gave live updates to my best friend who was reading it too. i sent those screenshots to her orc cos she deserved to know what i had to say. she was also an essential help when i was writing my kinktober project, kind enough to read my pieces and give me line by line feedback just like i like so i wouldn’t go crazy from lack of attention on pieces i couldn’t post til october. not only another talented and powerful writer (capable of dropping my jaw at how insanely good she is at wording things), but such a sweet person to talk to. and though she’s not active in the fandom anymore i think of her fondly and i hope she’s having such a good time with baldur’s gate.

@darthvvder had a collection of anakin drabbles that i found on wattpad of all places and i was amazed at what i read. thoroughly impressed by the physical reactions her works were eliciting in me. got me to care about smut tropes i hadn’t cared about before simply bcos she was so good at writing them. i posted about a line that gripped me and she commented that it was her, i followed and the rest is history.

@jarebare99 is my boyfriend :) he gets an honorary mention. i wrote him an entire book of poetry and my thoughts on him so he can read that if he’s feeling left out from everyone getting paragraphs. i met him in irl not through a fandom but idc.

@ddejavvu was someone i’d see in my notifications including my inbox every so often and she was very recognizable. i really can’t remember how us being mutuals happened? i’d like to say i somehow discovered she wrote and wrote well and once i began noticing i consistently liked her content then i followed and lo and behold she was following me too. mei is very respectful of my space and i like that she texts me without expecting an answer back bcos i like to read her updates and don’t always know what to say. i have some of her inbox messages i gatekeep and i go back and read them every so often and think about how diabolical it would be if i answered them and floored the world, but i have yet to be ready to share the genius.

@anakincentric technically through anakin. even though we don’t talk much bcos both of us have really similar no-contact ways that doesn’t mean i don’t think she’s real sweet. i like when she pops in, drops a banger, and then peaces out. like a disney cameo appearance.

@harrisonbrainrot i wanna say han/indiana. i feel like i was already following his blog because i got to read some of his stuff when i was in a han mood and was like, “yea, this guy gets it.” and then when we reconnected in the comments of someone else’s post, i told him i was a big fan which was true, and then wham bam thank you ma’am mutuals. i have no idea if he knew who i was before or if he was following me, but he’s cool asf. not only is he hot and chill, he’s also really kind with me about not texting. a very generous soul who let me use his crunchyroll to watch jjk out of the goodness of his heart, which i am kissing him for. one of the rare writer’s on here who’s unapologetic in the shit they say, which i always admire and prioritize in who i choose to follow. love his han characterization, so when he’s reblogged a han work of mine, i believe it’s been christened by the harrison ford pope.

@anitheus tagging this blog bcos it’s what i followed first but i also follow her other account @silxani because i love her art style. i love how she draws anakin every time. her spider-sam fanart, and her nsfw anakin works are my favorite, as well as the fanart she made of us for my birthday. gorgeous art style i could look at all day, and i like her personality when we text.

@ivysangel i wanna say it was dc comics but i can’t remember the character, might’ve been jason todd. she came for the dc, and stayed for the other stuff including my general tomfoolery. she flatters me with kind words about how i’ve influenced her, which always makes me soft. we have a lot in common, which is always so much fun to compare, and i love that she watched batman beyond when i recommended it even though i wasn’t expecting her to a) do it and b) love it. she’s aware and respectful of my boundaries when it comes to sharing my ideas which i appreciate, and i love seeing her in my inbox. we haven’t had enough time together for me to nail down everything i like about her, but i will.

@loveliestlovelygirl eloise caught me by surprise bcos it’s not often i get instantly hooked, or at least it hasn’t been that way for a while. i haven’t been in an anakin mood for a while, but i still reblog her works instantly so i can get to it later because i know i’ll like it even though i haven’t read it. idk much about her, but her theme makes me bonkers jealous. it’s so beautiful. like her chapter HTML for her fallen angel au makes me drool.

@psuedosis newest mutual. her reaction towards me made me instantly endeared, and i loved her jet works. some zuko pieces as well! hit at the right time bcos i just finished atla animated. very excited to get to know her more.

boom. indy lore and extensive thoughts on tumblr mutuals.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#anon #indy lore

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myocsfanfictions · 3 months ago

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The Vengeful Deceiver - Teen Wolf Fanfiction

Scarlett Black, she has been a vampire for 8 years and now forced to go back to school, forced to control herself in front of so much food. All for a puppy.

MASTERLIST

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CHAPTER 9

“Fucking driver is alive!” The text she had sent to Peter read.

That thought made Scarlett’s blood boil in her veins. She wanted him dead. He was just the beginning of her vengeance, but they didn’t make it. Scott had rebelled against Peter, and now that piece of trash could really make it through.

Her phone buzzed with a new message.

“Do not lose your temper, moonlight. We’ve got plenty of time.” She laughed angrily, wanting to throw her phone against the wall. Everything was going badly. At least Scott didn’t seem to remember that he had briefly seen her the night before. She had to stay focused and not let Stiles and Scott doubt her. They needed Scott on their side.

“Here you are!” Lydia’s loud voice made Scarlett jump.

“God…” she muttered through gritted teeth, fighting to keep her fangs from popping out.

Lydia giggled. “Jumpy, are we?” But Scarlett remained silent.

“Is everything okay?” Allison’s concerned voice broke through, and Scarlett turned to the Argent girl, reminding herself that she couldn’t kill her on the spot.

“Just shaken up,” Scarlett replied, closing her locker.

“I bet,” Allison said, touching her arm. "What happened is terrible.” Scarlett nodded, forcing a little smile, as if she truly appreciated Allison's concern.

“That’s why we must talk about happy things,” Lydia declared, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Scarlett! Did you know that Allison is hanging out with Scott tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” Scarlett replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stiles told me.”

Allison giggled, making Scarlett frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Allison said with a big smile. “I’ve just noticed how much time you spend with Stiles.”

“He’s cute and nice,” Scarlett answered shortly, feeling strange talking about Stiles. She had to understand how the bond worked; she didn’t like it when she didn't understand herself.

“There are many on the team who want to date you two, but no,” Lydia said as they were making their way to lunch. "You’ve got strange taste.”

“There are plenty of guys on the team who want to date you two, but no,” Lydia said as they walked to lunch. “You’ve got strange taste.”

“I’m not trying to date Stiles,” Scarlett blurted before she could stop herself. Why was she giving an explanation? Why did she care what they thought?

“Whatever you say,” Lydia said, taking a breath. “Anyway, I want to get to know them better. We’re eating with them today.”

“With Scott and Stiles?” Allison asked, her frown deepening in surprise.

“Yeah, why not?” Lydia replied, walking ahead down a different path, leaving Scarlett and Allison behind.

“Great…” Scarlett muttered under her breath.

Choosing lunch was always traumatic for Scarlett. As a vampire, she fed only on blood, but she had to pretend to be a normal student. Eating human food was an unpleasant experience. Nothing tasted good to her; it was as if her mouth had forgotten flavor. Not even the smell was enticing. Nothing smelled so delicious as neck skin and the blood underneath.

“Why am I nervous?” Allison asked as they made their way to the table where Scott and Stiles were now seated. Scarlett noticed their eyes widen as they looked at Lydia, who was taking a seat next to Scott.

Scarlett looked at Stiles's face. He looked both shocked and pleased as he observed Lydia. She could feel his excitement and his blood flowing faster, which irritated her.

“With Lydia?” She said to Allison, “You’re right to be nervous.” Then she moved around the table so that she could take the place next to Stiles. The boy seemed surprised by the trail next to him, and when he looked up, his brown eyes grew large once again.

“Scarlett, hey,” he said with a chuckle.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” She flashed a smile, showing her white teeth.

“No, of course not!” He was quick to answer, smiling at her as she sat down.

Scarlett looked around to notice that Danny had taken the seat on the other side of Stiles while Allison was in front of Scarlett, seated next to Scott. At the end of the table, there was a guy that Scarlett knew was on the team, but she had absolutely no idea what his name was. It did not matter, though, since the guy was fast gone as soon as Jackson arrived.

“Get up,” he said nonchalantly.

“How come you never ask Danny to get up?” The guy protested, but Danny answered this time.

“Because I don’t stare at his girlfriend’s coin slot.” That seemed fair enough. As the guy left and Jackson sat down, Scarlett turned her eyes to look at the food in front of her, pocking the hamburger with her fork. She had to get a move to start eating, or all of them would have noticed. Scarlett was hungry… she really was. Since Derek had shown up in Beacon Hills, Scarlett could not kill her food. She would hunt, bite their neck, and glamour them so that they’d forget what had happened. That was a real jump back into memory lane; that’s how Peter had started to train her. Thalia would have preferred for her to start drinking animal blood from the beginning, but Scarlett’s hunting instinct did not like to drink pig blood bought from the butcher and kept it warm inside a thermos. Peter had come out with that solution. No one would have noticed; no one would have known. And that was how she had learned.

“So,” Danny said, getting everyone’s attention, “I’ve heard they’re saying it’s some type of animal attack,” Scarlett took a sip of her water, hiding a little smirk, “Probably a cougar.”

“I heard a mountain lion,” Jackson said. Didn’t he know they were the same thing?

“A cougar is a mountain lion,” at Lydia’s words, Scarlett could not help but widen her eyes in surprise; she thought Lydia was worse than Jackson. “Isn’t it?” Scarlett observed the couple; she was doing it on porpoise. Lydia knew what she had said. Was she really up to be considered dumb to keep dating the douchebag sitting near her? That was almost depressing.

“Who cares?” Jackson answered his girlfriend. “The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's going to die anyway.” Scarlett looked at the man, unimpressed. Could he be any more predictable?

“Actually, I found out who he is,” Stiles said, making Scarlett look up to him from next to her. She had noticed he had been looking at his phone, but she didn’t think he was already doing his research. “Check it out.” He said, showing a video about the man on his phone. Scarlett decided to pretend to take a peak at the screen, but in fact, she was more focused on Stiles. He was smart; she was well aware, but she was wondering if that could become a problem in the future and what Peter would have asked of her if Stiles got too smart for their plan?

Why was she even asking herself that?

If Stiles became a problem, they would have to kill him. She knew; she was up to it if Peter asked her, like she had always done.

“I know this guy!” Scott exclaimed with wide eyes. Everyone turned their attention to him, and Scarlett was no different. The puppy knew Meyers?

“You do?” Allison asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver, " he answered, sharing a look with Stiles.

That was good news. If Scott had already seen the man, that could have convinced him more that he was behind the attack. It would have been better if they hadn’t linked the Alpha to Meyers yet.

“Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?” Lydia said, clearly tired of talking about the driver, “Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?” She asked, turning to Allison. The Argent girl was clearly not expecting that. Her expression was a mix of surprise and confusion. “You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?” Lydia asked again, not having any reaction from her friend.

“Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do,” Allison said unsure.

“Well, I am not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the five of us are hanging out,” Lydia said, this time taking Scarlett by surprise.

“Five?” She repeated as if she hadn’t heard it right.

Lydia nodded her head, “You are coming, right?” She asked, “We are doing something fun.” Scarlett seriously doubted it. “And I’ll find you a date!” Lydia was too excited for that.

“That’s a shame, Lydia,” Scarlett said, earning a frown from the other girl, “I already have plans.”

“You do?” Lydia asked.

Scarlett nodded her head, “Yeah, with Stiles.” Stiles quickly turned to her with wide eyes and open mouth.

“What?” He said at the same time as Jackson.

“Yes,” Scarlett said, looking at Stiles, hoping that he would understand that she was searching for a way out of that situation.

“You are hanging out with Stilinski?” Jackson said as if he did not believe her. She did not answer; her eyes were still on Stiles. His pulse had accelerated, his cheeks got a pink tint, and the rush of his blood again made him look so delicious.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding his head, “Yeah, Scarlett and I, we… are hanging out.” Scarlett smiled at him, moving her hand to squeeze his bicep a little to let him know that she was thankful. That gesture made Stiles’ blood rush faster, and she could feel his emotions; his shyness, his excitement, and a bit of confusion, but she could also sense his attraction. Scarlett knew that she could easily get that effect on humans, but she did not know why she felt her lips turn up into a genuine smile as she decided to let him go.

“So I’m sorry,” she said, looking at Lydia again. "Maybe another time. But have fun, you four.”

“The four of us?” Scott said with wide eyes, almost scared. Then he turned to Allison, “Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun,” Allison answered, clearly trying to be nice, but it was clear that she had no intention of hanging out with Lydia and Jackson.

“You know what else sounds fun?” Jackson asked, “Stabbing myself in the face with this fork.” Lydia was quick to take the fork from her boyfriend’s hand, but Scarlett would have loved to see this newfound hobby of Jackson.

“How 'bout bowling? You love to bowl.” Lydia insisted as Scarlett noticed Stiles moving his head in that usual way as he looked at Scott.

"Yeah," Jackson answered his girlfriend, observing the puppy with a mocking look, "With an actual competition."

But it was Allison, the one who answered the jackass, "How do you know we are not actual competition?" Scarlett forced herself not to roll her eyes at the interaction. If Allison wanted to go on a date with the puppy, why was she giving Jackson and Lydia all that attention?

Then Allison turned to Scott. "You can bowl, right?"

"Yeah, sort of..." The puppy seriously had to learn how to lie; she could see the truth all over his face.

Jackson leaned forward with an amused frown. "Sort of? Or yes?" he asked, which seemed to trigger the competitive side of the puppy, who glared at Jackson before speaking.

"Yes," he said, "In fact, I'm a great bowler." Scarlett did her best to hide a snort. She turned to Stiles, observing him as he hid his face behind one of his hands. Scarlett smiled at his reaction, and then she focused back on her hamburger.

The lunch break finally came to an end, bringing with it the embarrassment of the situation. Lydia wanted Scarlett to join them, but she said she needed to have a few words with Stiles. Jackson scoffed as Scarlett noticed again how Allison looked at her, alluding to something brewing between her and Stiles.

Scarlett's first reaction was to shake her head, but then again, she found herself thinking about why she felt the need to justify herself.

“Thank you, Stiles,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm. His blood ran fast, and she could feel his excitement at her touch. Scarlett felt her lips turn up into a little grin, finding his reactions amusing, but then she let go. “I was thinking we could meet tonight.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “Me and you?”

“And Scott,” she replied, glancing at the puppy. “You wanted answers, right?”

“Yeah… right…” Stiles responded, embarrassment written all over his face. “Let’s hang out... The three of us.” Scarlett giggled again just before she touched his shoulder.

“Then we’ll see,” she said, standing up. Stiles’s eyes widened as he watched her.

“We’ll see what?” Scott let out a little chuckle.

Scarlett grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Text me the address,” she said, flashing another smile at Stiles. “I’ll see you both later.” Then she turned to leave.

Now she had to keep the story straight, making sure everything flowed and made sense. She hoped that, over time, she would make them both realize what kind of monster the Argents were.

She walked out of the school, heading toward the parking lot where she had left her motorcycle. As she took the keys from her bag, she noticed a figure in the black car parked right next to her bike.

I should have seen this coming, she thought, keeping her pace. I have nothing to hide. She repeated to herself as a man stepped out of the car.

“It took you a long time to come talk to me,” Scarlett said with a smirk, crossing her arms as she looked into the man’s green eyes. “Derek.”

********

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x oc #scott mccall #derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x oc #derek hale imagine #derek hale fanfiction #allison argent #lydia martin #peter hale

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midorisudachi · 6 months ago

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“Living a lie…it festers inside you, like poison. You have to fight for what’s in your heart.” – Dorian Pavus

I recently beat Dragon Age Inquisition for the third time! I love that game immensely: everything about it is wonderful. I chose a male Inquisitor - as a rogue - because I wanted to romance Dorian. The first time I played DAI, it was the female elf Lavellen – whom I named Zephyra – and she was a mage, and the romance with Solas was a bloody disaster & heartbreaking. (Damn you, Solas!) The second time I played as the human female Trevelyan – named Bryony (who you have seen me do two fanarts of) – a warrior, and romanced Cullen. (Cullen is so hot for a video game character…where can I find a man like that? Lol.) I hope you like this artwork!

Also: Happy Pride Month! 🌈 It’s actually a perfect time to submit this artwork. This was a lot of fun to create (a full colour piece). If you haven’t played the Dragon Age games, it is actually very LGBTQ friendly. You can make your characters gay, lesbian, or bisexual. There is even a transgender male in DAI, named Krem, who is a cool character. Bioware is open-minded, that’s for sure, so the DA series is for everybody. And omg, let me tell you that the conversations & bantering between the characters is hilarious!

⚠️Warning: Spoilers Ahead!⚠️

Dorian is quite the character…a sarcastic & witty lad. He is complex at first, especially regarding his history (how his father tried to “erase” who he truly was, when it came to his homosexuality). It was fun romancing him with Cedric (Trevelyan), who I made a rouge/assassin. So off course I had to draw my OC [male] Cedric Trevelyan with Dorian! Cedric is Dorian’s “Amatus”. I made them wear simpler outfits when I drew them, because near the end of the game, they were wearing complex armour. That stuff is hard to draw! I chose to draw Lilies by Cedric & Dorian, because if you romance Dorian, his tarot card shows him holding what looks like a Lily.

The two of them had this conversation near the end of the Trespasser DLC:

Cedric: “Whatever happens, I wouldn’t trade the years we’ve had together for anything. I love you.”

Dorian: “I knew you would break my heart, you bloody bastard.”

Lol! Awww, jeez, Dorian, just say you love my Inquisitor, too. I honestly really think that Dorian loved him, as stubborn as he was to admit it. At first I was annoyed when Dorian chose to go back to Trevinter, and I thought, “Darn you, don’t you dare pull a Solas on my Inquisitor, after all you've gone through with him!” However, after the game ends, it tells you what happens to the characters (depending on your choices). For me, the game said that Dorian’s “greatest strength lay in the lover he left in the south, but still conversed with via message crystal”, and “some claimed to have seen the Inquisitor on the streets on Minrathos on rare occasions, sneaking into the heart of Trevinter to aid his Amatus.” It made me happy to know that the Inquisitor and Dorian stayed together. I wonder if that will show up with the 4th game.

⚠️Spoilers Over!⚠️

Speaking of the 4th game, who is excited to Dragon Age: The Veilguard, to be released later this year? I watched the gameplay trailer and I am excited for it! I hope characters from DAI will be in it (so far, Varric & Solas have been shown).

Drawn with sepia Sakura Pigma Micron pens, then coloured in with a mixture of Copic Markers, Ohuhu Markers, & Zenacolor coloured pencils. White accents done with a Sakura gel pen & the gold accents were done with Golden brand acrylic paint.

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sl-newsie · 1 month ago

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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 45: Peace And Goodwill

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Thomas’ gifted money to John did not go wasted. The view of the approaching country house brings a smile to my face, however the sight of someone hunched behind a boulder pointing a gun does not. The car halts next to the mailbox and I check the name. Shelby. I’m in the right place.

“Oi! Steenstra!” John shouts from across the lawn. “‘S that you?”

“Hello, John!” I wave back, clutching the bag of cookies I brought with me. “I come with neutral intentions and glad tidings!”

He relaxes and starts jogging over, followed by two small dogs. “You just missed Ada!”

“Thanks again for the party invitation. You didn’t really-”

“Oh yes, we did!” John cuts me off with a hug and eyes the bag. “It’s been a whole year since you’ve made us biscuits!”

I smile and quirk a brow. “So you’re excited I’m here just for my culinary skills, eh?”

“No, I did miss you,” he says sincerely. “‘S good to hear you and Ada have enjoyed America but it’s good to have you back.” He tugs at his coat. “It’s been bloody freezing! How are you not cold?”

I shrug. “I love the cold. It brings me back to my Scandinavian roots. The cold feels natural to me.”

John rolls his eyes and starts walking towards the house. “Oh, big deal. Brag about ancestors living in an ice cube. Let’s go inside for some tea, eh?”

He leads me to the front door and I walk inside to a cozy-looking parlor. I can’t help but notice the beautiful greenery draped over the fireplace.

John catches me looking. “First time seeing a British Christmas, eh? We’ve got our traditions.”

He points to something above my head. I look up to see a sprig of green plants with white berries tied together with a red bow.

“Mistletoe?”

I’m not unfamiliar with the custom. In my culture it’s a druid tradition that’s supposed to be a symbol of male fertility.

John grins deviously. “Want me to call Tommy over?”

I hold up a warning finger. “No. I mean it, John. No talk of that. I’m here to-”

“What? To make everything better again?” he mocks sarcastically with narrowed eyes. “Nice try.”

As if on cue, Esme appears in the doorway. Here we go.

Her vicious eyes cause me to freeze. “Verena.”

“Hello, Esme,” I greet gently. “How are the kids?”

“What money do you use?”

Her question throws me off. “Pardon?”

Behind me John groans. “Again, Esme?”

“What. Money. Do. You. Use?” She demands.

“M-My earnings. And some funds from my vader.” I hold up my bag. “I brought biscuits. Some chocolate ones, but also some almond cookies. They’re shaped like Dutch Christmas characters.”

“You have no idea what we’ve gone through,” Esme snarls. “And you show up like nothing’s changed?”

My own face twists into a scowl. “You think I don’t know things have changed? I am truly sorry for what Thomas did to John and the others but it was not my fault.”

“She’s right,” John agrees. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll all come to terms because you’re playing peacemaker, Verena. I did invite him-”

“No, John!” Esme hisses. “No more of him!”

I hold up my hands and look between the couple. Tea will have to be postponed. “It’s been lovely to see you all but it’s getting late.”

“Good to see you, Verena,” John waves from the couch.

I can’t help but smile and set the bag of biscuits down next to him. “Merry Christmas to you both, and the children.”

I retreat back to the door before Esme can skin me alive. She follows me the same as a fox stalks its prey.

“Are you staying with that bastard?”

I reach for the doorknob. “Yes.”

“Tell him to go to Hell.”

I think part of him believes he’s already there.

I’m so tired of being stuck in the car. Throughout the drive to Arrow House I watch the sun sink behind heavy gray clouds. I might not be as cold as others but I do still catch on to the dropping temperature. As the giant mansion approaches, a few random snowflakes scatter across the car window. I haul my trunk up the stone steps and am greeted by a stern-faced lady with her hair in a tight bun.

“Ms. Steenstra?” I nod and she continues. “I’m Frances, the head housekeeper. May I call a footman to take your bags?”

“No, no. That’s quite alright. I can manage.” I walk past her into the hallway and nearly bump into another maid. “Oh! Hello-”

Her eyes widen with panic. “I apologize, Ms. Steenstra!”

I frown. “What for?”

She looks down and wrings her hands together. “We’re not supposed to be seen. I- I took a wrong turn. This is the wrong staircase.”

There’s more than one? “You have your own staircase?”

She nods, still looking at the floor. “A hidden one.”

My curiosity sparks. “Can I see?”

Her head flies up. “Oh, miss, you don’t want to. It’s dark and full of spiders.”

I know Thomas treats his employees well but her skittery behavior makes me suspicious. “How exactly does the staff work here?”

Behind me I hear Francis let out a disapproving sniff. “A routine of tradition. You Americans obviously don’t follow it.”

The girl in front of me gulps. “Frances has the highest position of housekeeper. I’m only a scullery maid.”

My jaw drops and I wait for Francis to exit before speaking. “This traditional system is one-sided. How is being forced into always being in a poor society fair?”

Her eyes light up. “Actually Mr. Shelby is most generous with his terms of employment. Frankly, Francis is the one holding onto tradition.”

“Ah! You’ve met Lydia.”

We both turn to where Thomas has just walked in from his study. The maid immediately starts apologizing.

“Sorry Mr. Shelby. I was just leaving-”

“You can stay,” I assure Lydia and give Thomas a look. “She can stay, right Thomas?”

He looks as if this sounds like a simple request. “Yes.”

Another pair of eyes peeks out from behind Thomas’ legs. “Daddy, who’s this?”

Oh my. Charlie’s grown so much! He’s already talking. He’s grown into a sturdy, adorable child with curious eyes. Seeing him gives half the reason I wanted to return so badly.

Thomas kneels down next to him and points to me. “Charlie, this is my good friend Verena. Do you remember her?”

He scrunches his face at me. “V-Veena?”

“Vah-ree-nuh,” Thomas annunciates.

“Veena?" Charlie tries again. How cute!

“I like it,” I chuckle and also kneel down to his level, extending a hand for him to shake. “Merry Christmas Eve, Charles. It’s good to see you again. Have you been keeping your daddy in line?”

Charlie recognizes I’m no longer a complete stranger and grins at his father. “Uh-huh!”

Thomas puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charlie, Verena and I are going out for a talk. We’ll be back for supper, alright?”

Charlie nods eagerly. “Okay.”

Thomas calls for Francis to take him away and we both walk back to the front door. I look out the window and gasp in delight to see even more snowflakes flurrying through the darkening sky. It’s nearly dusk. The magical sight of the pure-white flakes almost looks imaginary.

“It’s finally snowing!” I can’t contain myself.

“Would you still be up for talking outside?” Thomas asks mysteriously. “I’ve got an idea.”

Now fate is just being cruel. A horseback ride through the snow? How more romantic is that? I guess as a city girl this is something very special. But Thomas doesn’t see this as anything intimate. To him a horseback ride is just another pastime. He preps a beautiful dark gray horse for me and his black horse for himself.

“Do you know how to ride?” Thomas asks as I mount the large beast.

“I’ll figure it out as I go. I’m really excited!” I gush as the horse begins to trot through the billowing snow.

Thomas brings his horse ahead of me and starts leading us through the fields. I’ll admit the feeling of sitting on the horse's back is unfamiliarly awkward but the horse itself is being very gentle with me. It has a patience of its own and doesn’t go too fast.

“How’s she working?” Thomas calls from ahead.

“Very cooperative!” I respond. “What’s her name?”

“Scarlet.” He pauses a second. “I’ve got a question about your father.”

“Shoot.”

“How does your father handle differences in his employees? By sex, I mean.”

Interesting. There’s little chance that Thomas will change his own mind about how he runs things; but it’s refreshing to hear he wants to know how other families deal with problems. He’s showing an interest in my family the same way I have taken an interest in his.

“Simple. They’re all paid fair,” I say as Scarlet steps over a small brook. “What you work for is what you get. If you put in the time and effort then you reap the rewards. Man or woman, he doesn’t discriminate. Unlike some other shops near us. But he does set certain boundaries so women are not put in harm’s way.”

I’m starting to lose Thomas through the thick snow. He notices and halts his horse so we can stop to chat.

“Does he ever have strikers?”

“No need for any. Half of his employees are our family and he’s too gentle to let a disagreement go unsettled. Firm but kind, as moeder says. But our business is much less than yours. Yours is… an empire.”

Thomas nods, regarding me with a look that shows deep thought. “Your father runs things through strong capitalism.”

I smirk and wipe away some snowflakes from my hair. “That’s the American dream for you. We’ve had countless immigrants who were looking to build a life for themselves and their families. They start as bartenders, busboys, and janitors. Now they’re paid by salary. Some of the best rumrunners I’ve ever seen. Quite similar to how you run things.”

A spell of silence falls over us and we take a moment to enjoy the peaceful serenity. The only sound is the whistling of the wind through the tall grass. In the distance I see the warm glow of the Arrow House windows flickering through the snow. Not quite like Christmastime in Brooklyn but it looks like what all the greeting cards advertise. Abel’s right. It’s going to be a challenge to be away during the holidays.

Thomas breaks the silence. “‘S this your first Christmas away from home?”

His soft voice and the bittersweet homesickness tug at me. “Yes.”

“Will you miss your family?”

A sad smile crosses my face. “That obvious, hm? I’ve only been away for a week but it’s different without being there for the holidays.”

Thomas reaches across for my hand but I still grip the reins. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have waited until after the holidays for you to come back.”

“Because I knew I was needed here,” I answer wisely. “It’s been a hard year on everyone and… I felt God telling me to come back.”

“Is that the real reason you came?”

He asks as if I’m not telling him everything. Why does this have to be so hard?!

“I still love your family after all these years, Thomas. You all need as much help as you can get.”

Thomas considers my answer and hums. “Charlie was certainly happy to see you. I’m sure they all were.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate. Ada and I have been the peacekeepers between the two opposing sides. Thomas vs. the line of everyone who hates him. And that line’s starting to become noticeably long.

“Thomas, please,” I plead as he starts leading his horse back towards the house. “You need to talk to your brothers. Mend this family.”

@meadows5

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justabirdy · 4 months ago

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An Open Letter from the Daughter You Don’t Know

I'm going to be open and vulnerable here, mostly because this has been something that has been clawing at my heart to write and I don't have many people to directly share it with.

The following is a letter to my parents. it's a refined stream-of-consciousness I wrote after a particularly hard phone call with them. I may never send this to them. Hell, I may just delete it after a bit, but I hope in the time it is up, that it can encourage or help some people struggling with similar issues regarding family, trauma, transness, and more.

If nothing else, It has helped me refine my thoughts and my experiences and put into words the pain I feel around the complications of family, being queer, and learning to set boundaries.

There are heavy topics discussed though I've tried to keep things vague and unspecific to focus more on the emotions I've been feeling. Still, please don't feel obligate to read if you aren't in a headspace for it.

To a Mom and Dad who may never read this,

I shouldn’t have texted you today. In the span of a few weeks, I have lost my job, my housing, a couple friends, and most recently, access to needed diabetic medicine. I was scared, in shock from the news, in pain from over month of repeated blow after blow of bad news. Other people were busy, and so without thinking, I contacted you. You; the parents who have supported me, who paid for college, who offer words of encouragement, who are excited to see when I succeed. I committed self-harm today through a simple text that expressed my worry.

I’m aware that you will probably never read this, but I need to write it down anyway because it is so, so, SO painful to talk with you. Right now, my soul is twisting and writhing from the pain it’s in. The recognition of your support for a person you’ve not truly known, the ever-present fear of letting you down, and the tiredness of being who you expect when who I actually am cries out in pain.

You called with encouragement on the mind. “This too will pass son. God is stretching you, son. Son, He has great plans for you. You will find the perfect job, son. We love you SON. We are praying for you SON. You’ll always be our SON.”

It’s the model parent of the year. Who could fault a parent loving and supporting and encouraging their son through hard times. And yet, each punctuation of your support feels like a dagger through my heart until it’s a pincushion that can barely beat let alone form a response. Your support hurts and stabs and digs deep into my being because I know that support belongs to a birthright, an heir to the family name, a son.

Before I can respond, you’ve shifted gears back into familiar territory:

“How’s your walk with God?” “Are you still walking with the Lord?” “Do you trust Him?” “When we are at our end, that’s where God Begins.” “What barriers have you put up separating you from God?”

I’m numb. What am I supposed to say? We’ve had this conversation over and over. When I lost my last job due to a pandemic, when I thought my dog might be dying, when I was diagnosed with diabetes. If there’s a heartbreak, a struggle, or challenge in my life, these questions return.

Over the years I’ve responded in every way. “My faith is struggling” warrants a scolding to do better and follow examples set before me. Similarly, though “My walk with God is fine” is also met with skepticism. No person could suffer hardship without having stumbled or fallen away from God to deserve it after all.

I want to scream. The truth is YOU are the barrier that’s been put up! You are the reason. I can’t do more than hitch a sob that I try to hide from the phone speaker though I’m sure you heard it. That noise alone confirms in your mind that I must have strayed far from the light of God. How else could a SON you raised ever struggle this much, ever go through this pain, or suffer as you hear over the phone? This realization pains you because you want your SON to be happy, you want HIM to live a fruitful life and be fulfilled just like you.

I stifle another sob and a sniffle, my mind trying to find an answer that won’t disappoint you. I can’t find the words to explain that the teachings I grew up with don’t align with the church I see.

Feed the hungry; help the poor; commune, support, and love the downtrodden; accept people for who they are and meet them where they’re at. None of it aligns with the hatred and vitriol I see for the immigrants, the sex workers, the refugees, the disabled, and the queer around me.

I can say this though. Even after a year and a half of therapy, there’s still a small part of me that won’t let me open up, it won’t let me tell you what I feel because that wouldn’t coincide with your image of me. A person I crafted for decades to protect myself and to avoid your disapproval.

That part of me is weaker than it was two years ago, but still craves your support, it yearns to be praised and accepted even if it means betraying who I really am. The truth is, I’m part of that queer community facing the vitriol and hate from the very ones who taught me to love and support and welcome. I have been for decades. For far longer than I’ve ever understood the words to describe it. I’ve always been a little different from the rest of the family.

There’s a reason why I was never invited to hunt with my grandfather or why I was pressured into football, a reason behind this lacking in my supposed masculinity that was evident enough to need to push me towards masculinity. But it goes back farther than that. I can pinpoint the sadness I felt knowing I could never participate in a father-daughter dance. I remember the shame I was made to feel after getting caught trying on lipstick, the stern talks about such behavior.

I remember the hundreds of nights I spent crying in my bed at the fact puberty was making me something I didn’t want to be, forcing me into something I could never be. I didn’t know how to describe it, couldn’t explain myself even if I had tried; but I understood. Those nights were spent begging and crying in hushed tones under my blankets, pleading with God to answer a single request:

God, please make me a girl.

I wanted nothing more than to wake up and find this Kafka-style nightmare of puberty finished, reversed even. Those were nights of self-harm, clawing, biting, and punching a body that refused to listen; a body that stubbornly changed in the worst possible ways.

You never saw those nights, but eventually, a learned helplessness set in. I couldn’t be me. God wouldn’t let it happen, I couldn’t do anything about it, and that’s not the person you expected me to be. So, unable to be myself, I learned to be your son. I played the part. I wore the mask. I ignored the hurt inside. I became a leader in the youth group. I wore the suit. I grew the beard. It was an identity that was expected of me. It was capable, professional, conservative, and it. Was. Safe.

And I LOATHED myself for it. I pushed the person I needed to be down, smothering it until I was numb. If I could never be them, I should just focus on the safe bet even if I hated him. But that came with its own set of problems. I hated my body so why should I care for it? It’s not like anyone would be attracted to it anyway. Why exercise? Why eat right? Why put effort into clothes or appearance anyway? Maybe if I was lucky, I might just not make it long enough for it to matter.

Besides you approved of this me. You loved me. You supported me. That’s what mattered. That’s what I craved. When you commented that I never did anything but sit in my room all day, I responded. I stopped writing, I stopped doing art. I leaned into volunteering at church, I started a business, worked multiple side jobs, then proved to you that my own business was a real thing worth respecting. I became independent because that’s what you demanded. That’s what you approved of. That part of me grew stronger each year while the real me remained buried.

As the hunger for your approval grew, my self-loathing remained, it festered and smoked until the multiple jobs burned me out. Something in me broke and depression set in like a fog. I’d work 12-16 hours a day and spend all weekend in bed, sleeping, crying, or contemplating dark things. I told you work was killing me. Said it plainly and openly, and thankfully you believed me because you encouraged me again. Told me God was stretching me. Encouraged my change in career paths. You approved for me to make a change.

The truth is, I didn’t tell you everything. My self-hatred had reached a breaking point. I hated my jobs, I hated my small business, I hated my body, I hated very being. I needed to escape. I needed to think. I needed to recover, to distract, and gain space from over a decade of expectations I felt no control over. So, when I burned out and depression first set in, I also found myself without energy, unable to hold the weight of expectations that had kept that little queer person inside me smothered any longer.

With it came the first bit of true joy I had experienced in years. I was an adult. I had adult money. I could go to a store and buy nail polish, just to try it. When I did, I claimed it was a lost bet, but truthfully, I just loved the red color and suddenly I didn’t want to bite my nails anymore. Suddenly I cared about something, suddenly I cared about myself, even just a tiny bit. That realization terrified me, especially seeing it peek through the vernier I had worn for so many years.

This was NOT what you expected of an ideal SON.

So, I fled cross country under the guise of a new job. Thousands of miles away. I still wore the beard, the mask, and the suit of your expectations, but in small ways I could start to explore a part of myself I had buried 15 years ago. Over the course of a year, I healed just a little, I explored, I studied scripture, and I reflected deeply in an effort to both understand who I was and reconcile with that revelation one way or another. And I did begin to reconcile with it. At the same time, the part of me I had built up for so long, that part that needed your approval got just a little weaker and the tiny joys I found in being myself became just a little stronger and a little more frequent.

When the pandemic forced me to return to your home, I quickly found I had damaged that mask of the perfect son. The cracks were small, but they were noticeable and made me wary. I knew that you wouldn’t approve of the person inside me that I had begun to nurture and show compassion for. I would need to be careful not to let the cracks in the mask show.

Strangely though, my craving for your approval shifted ever so slightly. Would you possibly love or approve of a child who didn’t fit your ideal mold? You were kind and compassionate and supportive in so many ways. My heart still flutters at that thought. What if you, the people who raised me, could stand to love me even in my failing your expectations. I wanted THAT approval.

I couldn’t risk discovery, but I could carefully observe you. You worked with gay people, but you only brought them up when defending yourself. You asked about a neighbor’s pride flag to which I responded it was a bisexual flag they had likely hung up for pride. But you responded “Well, they shouldn’t be proud of that.” It answered my questions. If a neighbor down the street couldn’t avoid your scrutiny, I certainly couldn’t use gender neutral pronouns around you. It quickly became clear that I would not be safe in your house, not without the burden of your expectations smothering that queer person inside me.

So, I fled again. I entered grad school. Left the state and a part of my masculinity behind. I spent a year on a campus of supportive people willing to put up with that eccentric nonbinary person. I was terrified to leave my masculine presentation behind, but the joy I found at seeing myself look even slightly closer to the girl my 12-year-old-self had begged for me to become… well that joy was palpable. It was like I had been struck by lightning. I was energized, passionate about life, I suddenly cared about my body. There were still parts I didn’t like, but those were being overshadowed by parts that I did. That early euphoria of simply being myself was something I will never forget.

Grad school zipped by and before I knew it, the pandemic lockdowns were over, and I was starting a new job with a new degree. Sometime in all of this, I decided I couldn’t pretend anymore. I wanted to try opening up to you again. I wanted to test the waters and see if you could love and accept a nonbinary child. I had also begun writing again.

I had decided I was going to ask key questions the next time I came down for the holidays, but what I hadn’t anticipated was you reading an article I had published alongside some work I had been doing for my new job. The article detailed the need for scientific language to grow and develop as times changed. It called out racist language, exclusionary language, called for us to be more inclusive in the way we interact academically and highlighted organizations that were actively working toward improving the language in their field. That phone call you made haunts me to this day.

“You used ALL the liberal, woke buzzwords.” “How’s your walk with God?” “I don’t know where we went wrong.” “Democrats can’t be Christians.” “I’m leaving you to God now. Goodbye.”

I’ll be honest, this broke me again. For 4 months I assumed you had fully disowned me. That single phone call led me to call suicide hotlines several times. I was alone. I was in a new state without a network of support, and with the belief that I would never speak to my parents again, the very people I had trained myself to chase approval from.

For 4 months I processed. I went through the stages of grief. I began to pick myself up again. I began to live for myself and my own joy. The early hesitancy of leaving behind my masculinity, it shattered. I didn’t need it anymore. I could freely pursue being myself fully and truly. I could truly try to be happy.

I started building new connections, found people who accepted me. Advocated for myself. I became a stronger me. I found my identity. I was still nonbinary, but it was more than that. I could finally start to pursue the person my 12-year-old self knew I was when she begged God to be a girl. 17 years later, that prayer was beginning to be answered.

Then one day you called.

Worse still, you pretended nothing had happened. Pretended I had never written that article. That you had never said what you did. Like we just hadn’t spoken in a bit because we got busy. I felt trapped by the grief I had processed conflicting with that urge to regain your approval on our reconnection. A much smaller part of me urged that family is still family at the end of the day.

but I knew this family and I couldn’t trust it anymore even as I yearned still for your approval. So, I gave in, I let the past be ignored. But I guarded my heart. You would never get to know the person I was becoming. This time I sought to protect myself. You weren’t safe so I would keep you at arm’s length.

I moved states again. We spoke, but internally, my goal was complete and total independence from you. The writing was on the wall and things were in motion that would ensure you found out who I was eventually. So, I steeled myself for that time. I built a network of people I could trust. I came out to old and new friends. I went to therapy. I planned and processed and worked to try to encourage you to become more open to the LGBTQ community without straight up outing myself.

But I also continued to work towards my own life and my own happiness. Soon I had a good group of friends who accepted me for who I was. I had hobbies to pursue, things I loved doing. I even came out to some of my oldest friends and in a couple cases, their own parents as well. I found the more I lived to meet my own expectations, the less I craved meeting yours. The less I worried about if you would accept me or not.

I still care, don’t get me wrong. Multiple people have suggested I go “no contact” with you, but I have refused that. I want to believe you might accept me one day, and I hope I’m not forced to give up that belief. But I also recognize that historic evidence has merit and it’s not been promising.

I nearly gave up when you called me at the start of this year. You had discovered my pierced ears, my green hair, and my tattoo during an exhausting visit where I still pretended to be your son. You had handled it graciously enough, accepted that I could make these decisions for myself, given me hope that maybe you were open to some changes in me. So much so that this phone call shook me.

You called to inform me that a childhood friend had passed away. He had been murdered during a mugging. I had heard the news earlier that day, but in the next couple breaths I felt my heart sink as you confronted me about my own gender and sexuality. You had seen my they/them pronouns on a work website and had done some googling to learn about it.

You sought to use my friend’s death and the fact he was gay to confront me about who I was. I felt sick. I was stunned. I remember the way you immediately asked if I had slept with “other men.” I remember that sharp and painful edge to your voice. I remember your hasty assurances that you still loved me, words that sounded hollow and desperate, more like someone had coached you to do it so I wouldn’t just hang up the phone on you. I was so stunned I couldn’t even answer your question of “are you at least happy?” and I certainly couldn’t bring myself to tell you that I am trans, not just nonbinary.

Mostly I remember the sickening realization that this was no longer going to be a clean-cut issue where you would just cut me out of your life and disown me like I had already grieved and prepared for. I would have to make that decision. I would have to prepare to deal with guilt-tripping, manipulation, and possibly making the decision to go “no contact” myself.

Today, that part of me that craves your approval has grown very small. I am living openly as myself, letting myself be happy for the first time in my life. Everyone around me knows who I am but you. Everyone knows your daughter… everyone but you. Let me answer that question you asked over the phone that January evening. Yes. I am happy. I am loved. I am content. My faith is fine, even if it doesn’t look exactly like yours anymore. I am one of the queer ones and I’m so much happier for it.

It's not lost on me that at 32 years old I’m already on the older side of my community. Elders are few and far between, often because those who would be community elders were far stronger than me, far more willing to stand up to protect and cherish their community against every odd and they paid the price for it. I admire their strength the same way I was taught to admire the martyrs of the early church even as I commit to sharing resources and communion with those younger and in more need than myself.

Many in my community weren’t allowed the chance to wear the mask as long as I did. Many didn’t have parents who would support even an idealized version of them like I was afforded. Many prepare for the worst because the worst is all but assured by those around them. It was your continued support that allowed me to strive to be who I am becoming today. The financial support, the genuine attempts to encourage, the love you shared in good and troubled times. Even if that support wasn’t meant for this version of me, it’s not lost on me and it’s appreciated. I intend to pay it forward as best I can.

Despite a growing climate of fear and hate for who and what I am, I am happier than I have ever been in my life. I’m happy with my accomplishments, I’m happy with the person I am striving to be, I’m happy with that long answered prayer:

“I can’t make you into something you already were.”

I’m happy with the community I’ve built around me who love and support me and encourage me to go out and feed the hungry, help the poor, and commune with the downtrodden.

Before I lost my most recent job, before my livelihood seemingly crumbled overnight. You called me again. And surprisingly, you apologized for what you had done. You were specific, you were clear, and I still truly hope you were sincere. You asked me not to push you away and I believe that you don’t want it to happen. But tearfully I responded that it was up to you. And you answered that challenge. You asked me to let you prove it.

I love you, truly, I do. But you’ve made a pledge and until you prove it, I intend to keep you at a distance. How can you expect me to fill you in on everything when you still won’t even use anything but he/him pronouns in conversation? How can you expect me to come to you when your first response is to assume I’ve done wrong by God and deserve punishment. How can I open up when you text me to ask what cisgender means only to get upset that a coworker won’t just say she’s female even as I’m actively explaining how comforting it is to see people use the term as signal that they are safer to me any my community.

Your own actions make it so very hard to justify opening myself to the pain of interacting with you. Until you prove otherwise, I’m sorry I texted you today, I’m sorry I opened myself up to further pain by seeking your answers and support. I’m so sorry I can’t let myself connect to you, to introduce you to your daughter; a daughter who has earnestly yearned for your approval and support for so, so many years.

I love you, and I still hope that one day I might introduce myself to you for the first time; and I dearly pray it won’t be knelt at your gravestones.

Sincerely and with all my love and heartache,

Your Daughter

#personal post #hard topics #family #Birdy talks about herself

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spiderplanter · 3 months ago

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Story Time‼️

This story is dedicated to the lovely @laugh-and-love2

These spunky characters recall a whimsical, laughter filled night they had a few moons ago and enlightening you, the reader on what exactly went down that night.

Hope you all enjoy! I had so much fun writing this :) without further ado, I introduce to you

Friendly Shenanigans

Our little Lee told us they wanted it to be a surprise, said they didn’t want to see it coming. As my fellow Ler and I recieved this information, it was only right that we started scheming immediately. After days of configuring just how to get them truly when they least expected it, the plan we had come up with was brilliant and thought to perfection. Every possible kink had been accounted for and backed up, schedules were rearranged to a T. All that it came down to was the time left before our poor little lee succumbed to their fate.

We marked our calendars for Halloween night in the name of all things fun and spooky and that’s when our lee’s guard will certainly be down. But before we continue, I shall introduce us, silly of me to forget. My name is Cypress, and I am a ler. my partner is Banks, he just recently came out as a switch, previously ler. Kai is our lovely little lee that we’ve had the blessing of teasing and tickling the shit out them of for years. Our friend group formed way back in second grade when Kai threw a crayon at me for literally no reason and Banks jumped in to stand up for me. No harm, no foul, and we ended up hitting it off together and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

Kai came up to us a year ago and confessed their liking about tickling. They were really nervous about telling me and Banks but we accepted them and thoroughly researched for the proper equipment and techniques to accurately wreck Kai to the best of our ability. Since we’re full blown adults now with free will and our own money, it’s safe to say we splurge to make it the best experience for everyone, especially Banks. He goes above and beyond especially this time around. No expenses were too drastic.

We’d planned for months to pregame at my house before we head to our all time favorite haunted house that we go to every year as a tradition, and we did just that. A bottle of whisky and two pre rolls later, we’re all crossfaded, getting in our Uber on the way to the haunted house.

Banks’ POV:

This is probably mine and Cypress’ greatest plan yet. I know a guy who knows a guy who volunteers at the haunted house and after some very passionate convincing, the staff agreed to build a separate spooky room for us. I went by last night to check it out and it is flawless.

*Pause from the story* when you think of this room, I want you to imagine Dr. Thredson’s basement in the Asylum season of American Horror Story. Something along those lines. *Continue story*

I’m so excited to see this all play out! I think Cypress and I are both getting more antsy the closer we get to the haunted house, I can feel the vibes but praying that Kai doesn’t catch on. We’re here. It’s go time.

The line is fairly long but not too much of a wait. Plenty of time to tease Kai until we’re able to go in. Thirty minutes pass and we’re next in line. After many side eye exchanges with Cypress, we lock arms on either side of Kai and stroll right on in. Keep in mind, this haunted house is three stories high and our special detour is at the very end.

After many jumpscares, our adrenaline was at a moderate level, and instead of taking the exit everyone else was, we pointed out what looked to be a dark room with a subtle red light peeking through the door. Cypress and I suggest to Kai that we go explore it. Curiosity peaked, “Let’s go for it!” Kai said. Mistake number one.

We all split up to different corners of the room as I shut the door as quietly as possible before switching on the warm and cozy lights, admiring all of the detail and hard work that they put into it, also wondering why they left it out of the whole haunted house experience. Glancing over at Cypress, we both mentally agreed that it was time to start. “Hey, we should take some pictures in here! They’d turn out super cool”, said Cypress. “Great idea! Kai, do you wanna go first?”, I chimed in. “Uhhh.. sure”, Kai mumbled, growing a little suspicious but swiftly sliding onto the edge of the bed to pose for the camera.

“NOW!” Cypress yelled. I lightly pounce on Kai to pin them down to the bed while Cypress goes around restraining their limbs to each corner of the bed. Damn, Kai is giving me a run for my money the way they’re flailing around trying to buck me off. After Kai is secured, I get up and pivot over to Cypress to give her a high five and bask in our success.

Kai’s POV (train of thought) :

*O-oh fuck. I really didn’t see this coming, this is INSANE. *How did they plan this and HOW did I fall for it??* “Guys c-come on now, we can settle this a-another day!” *looks over at the wall of tools and further restraints. “GUYS! We can’t do this here, everyone will hear us!!” *Fuck I’m so screwed. They have every single tool, some I’ve never even seen before. Why did I tell them to surprise me, that was so stupid! How can I convince them to let me go?*

Cypress’ POV:

I can’t believe we actually pulled this off. Every second of stress leading up to this moment was completely worth it. “Hear us? There’s music blasting out there mixed with screams of horror. Nobody is going to hear us or even bat an eye if they do, they’ll simply think it’s part of the attraction. Just face the fact that you’re vulnerable, all pretty and tied up for us. Nobody is going to rescue you, so you might as well just accept that now darlin! You’re not getting out of here until we say you can.” I say looking down at Kai pulling the restraints rapidly. “Let’s get started, shall we?” I state, looking at Banks. “Let’s.” Banks replied.

To further the anticipation, we both walk over to the tool wall and start pointing at random, discussing which tools are best for each body part and how effective they might be for Kai, making sure to converse only loud enough for Kai to hear and get flustered.

Eventually I pick up a lovely, long, and stiff feather to start off with. Banks grabs an electric toothbrush and a bottle of baby oil. As we slowly start walking over to Kai, they get more and more restless. “Banks, I don’t think there’s enough skin showing, we should remove some items. What do you think?”, I ask dragging my freshly manicured nails from Kai’s ankle, all the way up to their hips before I give a quick taser. “I have to agree with you Cypress, there’s far too little skin exposed for my liking. So how about we just-“.

Banks says, as he leans down to cut off Kai’s shirt with a pocket knife, starting at the waist and cutting a line straight up to the neck and pulling the fabric from underneath them. Now that Kai’s whole upper body is exposed, all they could do was lay there with their eyes tightly shut just waiting for the ticklish sensations to commence.

“So many places to start, I’ll let you have first dibs“. Banks whispers to me. My eyes light up in excitement and hesitation because I truly can’t choose what spot I’d like to wreck first. Armpits it is. I run back over to the wall to grab another feather. Kai’s restraints are a tad loose for my liking so I straddle their arms for minimum mobility and start lightly tracing both feathers, alternating between the soft tip and the quil in Kai’s insanely sensitive hollows. I’m telling you, I could just hover my fingers over them and Kai would instantly be a squirmy puddle of giggles.

“C-C-CYPREHEHEHES PLEASE NOOHO ANYWHERE BUT THERE AAHAHAHAH” Kai pleaded, already struggling to catch his breath.

“Awe is my little lee already begging because it’s too much? I’m sorry to break it to you but I’m just getting started, and this is the least intense it’s going to get.” I tease, looking up at Banks to signal that he should jump in and start.

Banks’ POV:

Damn, looking at how adorable Kai is thrashing around like that, I’m just thankful I’m not in their position because Cypress is no joke when it comes to wrecking someone. She’s ambitious, teasy as hell, and knows exactly what spots are deadly and can exploit said spots very very well. I know first hand just how cruel she can be but also so nurturing and will never take you past your breaking point. She’s very good about reading when you have or haven’t had enough and I really admire that about her. I take pride in knowing that we are alike in that sense.

As Cypress looks up at me, I’m snapped out of my thoughts and take a second to decide where I’d like to start. I think it would be fun if I join Cypress and go for their neck/ collarbone and ribs. As I straddle Kai’s waist, I open the bottle of baby oil and lather a fair amount all over, starting from the back of Kai’s neck all the way down to their waist. I pull the toothbrush out of my pocket and turn it on, lowering it to the back of Kai’s ear. Every time they turn their head and pull away, I just move to the other side of their head. No amount of head ducks and scrunching can get Kai away from the vibrations.

Growing bored of the current spot, I travel down to the collar bones and a new pitch of giggles erupt from Kai. Cypress and I both stop tickling to tease them about it. “Oh my god, Kai, that was absolutely adorable, I need to hear that again!” I say giving a few scratches to their ribs while doing so. Cypress chimes in, “Enough talk, press that tickle button again”. As I turn the toothbrush back on and place it exactly where I left off, the same giggles started pouring out and both Cypress and I were just infatuated. They sounded like when you’re getting chased and the anticipation laughter just slips out but you can’t help it.

“Guuhuhuhuys, please move.. I’m beheheging.. I tap ohohohut!!” As we both get off of Kai to give them a break, we both step back over to the tool table and plan what we wanted to do next. And before you guys start freaking out, Kai said they tapped out but that’s not our safe-word, so we know we didn’t go overboard. Kai is very strong and can endure quiet a bit of tickling. He even told us straight up one time that begging just means continue.

“I think I’m going to stick with my hands this next round.” Cypress stated. “You know what, that’s a good idea, I’m going for the legs and feet next, you?” I ask but before she could reply, Kai shouts out “O-okay I’m ready now!”. Cypress gave them a thumbs up and whispered to me, “I’m going for the tummy”. She winked and nudged my shoulder, doing a little dance before creeping back over to Kai.

Kai’s POV:

Fuck they’re walking back over and I’ve never been more scared or excited before. I’m actually really enjoying myself but I can’t let them know that because then it’ll result in endless teases and I just can’t bear that heat. Ahh oh my god.. Cypress is straddling my waist and I saw just a sliver of Banks before he knelt down behind her, this is going to be the end of me. I’m already shaking against the restraints waiting to feel something, anything. This is absolute torture and they’re just eating it up. As I close my eyes to embrace for impact, I’m jolted back to reality as I feel Cypress pull my pants down slightly and tracing her index fingers along my waistline. It’s sending electric current up to my brain and I can’t help but thrash around, given the little wiggle room I have.

I enter silent laughter as I feel five nails on each foot starting from the heels right up underneath my toes. The feeling is overwhelming but so comforting, my brain is short circuiting trying to process all of these feeling but ultimately, my brain melts into nothing but the sound of my laughter. No coherent thoughts can form in my brain and I’m not mad about it. Just when I think the tickles couldn’t get more intense, I feel Cypress start to trace big circle around my tummy, slowly spiraling in until she digs into the depths of my belly button. As I’m now bucking up and down trying to get her finger out, she slips not one, but two pillows under my back, eliminating what wiggle room I had. My belly button forced to accept her vibrating finger, I can feel every inch of it inside and it’s absolutely unbearable that I can’t do anything about it, but also why would I want to ya know?

I start begging her to take the finger out and milliseconds before I tap out, she mercifully pulls it out, but starts spidering all over my sides and ribs. While that is equally very, VERY fucking ticklish, I feel Banks massaging baby oil all over my feet and knees. My god I’m done for. For some reason they both raise their hands at the same time and just look down on me. As I’m trying to catch my breath, my face turns to an unnatural shade of red, because help.. why are they looking at me?.. all of a sudden Banks starts counting down.

5…4…3…2… suddenly my brain overrides once again with these ticklish sensations. I throw my head back starting to wheeze and fall back into silent laughter. Cypress is pushing all ten of her fingers between my rib bones that are sticking out so much due to the TWO pillows.. out of pocket Cypress. Banks has pulled out a hairbrush, scrubbing it up and down my left sole as he’s spidering the back of my right knee. I’m pulling as hard as I can to curl up but it seems as if they had tightened the restraints even more.

Randomly my body relaxes and I open my eyes to look up at Cypress and why the tickling had come to a halt, only Cypress isn’t looking at me, she and Banks are looking at the door for some rea- Oh. My. God. There are two strangers standing in the doorway. I immediately look away with tears in my eyes out of embarrassment and I had never felt so vulnerable and on display before.

Trying not to get too worked up over it, I hear Cypress ask them if we could help them. All I hear is one of them asking curiously what we were doing. Cypress explained we were just playing a fun little game and broadly explained to them what was happening. They both seemed genuinely intrigued and asked if they could join us. I feel a slight scratch on my side causing me to jump up a little and jolt my head to look at Cypress. She sees the tears pouring out now and she cups my face, wiping my tears away. “If you’re uncomfortable with that, we can have them leave but we’re down to let them stay, only if you are.

I sit there contemplating a second before answering. “Only if you explain my boundaries and tell them to keep it light, and only because they genuinely seem curious.” Ugh what did I just get myself into… they come into the room and sit down on either side of me as they introduce themselves. “Hi, I’m Blue.” , Hello! I’m Clarke.” They both state. Cypress introduced all of us and started going over the small details to make sure nothing crosses anyone’s boundaries. After everything is settled and I’m ready to get back into it, Cypress and Banks stay in their positions while Clarke straddles my arms and Blue sits on my shins to go for my knees.

As I’m questioning if this will be a sensory overload with all of my spots being exploited simultaneously, two by people I don’t even know yet, I brace once again for impact and throw my doubt out of the window because this will be a new experience, good or bad and we can all learn from it. I feel them start one by one, Clarke digging lightly into my armpits, causing my giggles to slowly bubble out. She’s suspiciously tickling very well in my opinion. She has long black nails and boy are they effective.. sure enough, I feel cypress start spidering all along my torso to the best of her ability, which is expert level. My giggles turning into steady laughter now, as I’m growing used to the sensation, I feel Blue’s short and dull nails sketching little doodles on my knee caps and occasionally switching to spider the hollows of my knees. Now that I’m deep belly laughing and pulling at the restrains, I feel Banks take a feather between and around my left toes and an electric toothbrush to my right.

They keep this up for what feels like hours before they all start rotating between spots, each set of hands bringing a new level of ticklishness to each of my spots I didn’t even know was possible. Surely it can’t get worse right? Wrong. I feel my limbs set free, low key disappointed that it was over. That was until Banks went over to the wall and opened a secret compartment with a whole lot of rope. I was too distracted and confused to even move but nonetheless, Cypress laid her dead weight on top of me so I couldn’t run for it. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up and carried to a platform shaped like an X and I’m being tied up to it, my body so taught I can’t move a single inch.

Clarke and Blue sat this one out because they wanted to see just how crazy this could get, and they knew they’d just get in the way. As Banks moves behind me, he places both hands on my armpits and slowly spidering and kneading up and down the length of my upper body. Meanwhile Cypress is taking her nails and a feather to my inner thighs and it’s driving me insane. “Can you guhuhuys p-plehehease go f-AHAHAHA.” I didn’t even have to finish my sentence before they gained speed and accuracy to each nerve. With every stroke feeling like they’re on fire in the best possible way, I forget that Blue and Clarke are in the corner taking notes.

After a few minutes of this absolute torture, they stop and offer Clarke and Blue to step in and take over. To my defeat, they accepted without hesitation. As they’re hovering over me now, kind of unsure where to start, Banks and Cypress start directing them, spilling all of my worst tickle secrets. All of a sudden Banks and Cypress come back to demonstrate. Cypress grabs Clark by the arm and leads her to my thighs. As they lean down she takes her hand and places it firmly on the absolute most sensitive spot right in the middle of my inner thigh and tells her to squeeze firmly and rapidly. AAAAAAAAHAHAHA I scream out and suddenly Banks takes Blues hands and places them on my hips, telling her to scratch, knead and poke all over. “STOHOHOHOP TELLING THEHEM EVERYTHIHIHIHING GUHUYS.” I scream out. “Oh but we know you love this too much for them to stop, cutie.” Clarke stands up to whisper in my ear. Going to sit back down, I’m left with them using two of the most effective techniques on me. Banks adds on, “There’s also a death spot right above either side of their top ribs and if you dig your thumbs in and rub circles intothem, it’ll cause Kai to beg and plead, and you’ll get the tastiest raspy howling laughter out of them, go ahead and give it a try. NOOOOHOHO BANKS PLEEHEHESE I scream out.

“Right here?” Blue asks, placing his thumbs down firmly. “Up to the left a little, up a little more, just a hair to the right. There you go! Right there!” Clarke adds. The anticipation is too much, just do it already I’m thinking to myself. And before I could form another thought, that’s the only sensation I can feel now and I can’t help but fall limp while keeping control but my body betrays me, emitting the exact laughter Banks said I would. “TAP OUT, TAHAHAHAP OOUUT!” I yell at the top of my lungs, appreciating that they stopped instantly. As they’re letting me go, I go back over to the bed to lay down and catch my breath once more.

I’m too embarrassed to tell them I do want some more but I need a water break or something. Conveniently, Banks hands a water bottle to Clarke to bring over to me. I sit up and chug about half of it. Meanwhile they’re all circled around me conversing about how fun this is and how I’m too adorable for their own good.

Minutes later, I gain the courage to tell them I’m ready for another round. This time Banks jumps behind me and manually restrains me. He pulls me up on top of him and wraps his arms around mine to hold them back, also wrapping his legs around mine to keep them pinned down to the bed. Clark straddles my waist while Cypress and Blue take one foot each. Before Clarke begins, I feel my toes being stretched and held back before I feel rapid spidering all over, sending my mind into overdrive again, but I’ll never get tired of that feeling. Suddenly, Banks manages to lift my hips up so Clarke can lightly skidder her fingers on the small of my back and simultaneously give my belly button raspberries and tasering my side and ribs with her free hand. AAHAHAHAH- my howling laughter falls silent as I’m thrashing around the most I have tonight. For some reason this position is the worst by far. I don’t know if it’s because there’s a small chance of getting free, or the fact that I’m this easily restrainable. Either way it’s so flustering and I’m rendered helpless at their mercy. After a couple hours that felt like centuries, I start to see stars and my lungs and throat are feeling raw now.

. “DAMN GUHUHUHUYS… RED LIGHT, RED LIGHT.”

Everyone drew their hands away immediately and I curl up into a ball to recover and suddenly jump a little as I feel hands on my back but it’s just Banks trying to bring comfort and rub away the phantom tickles, which I appreciate. Cypress, Blue, and Clarke sitting on the edge of the bed having a small talk conversation while I catch my breath.

After several minutes, I sit up and join them to say how much fun I had and thanking Cypress and Banks for planning such a fun night. We stayed for a while, getting to know Blue and Clarke further. After mutually agreeing to get out of there, we walk out to see the haunted house was completely empty. Looking at the time, it was 3 a.m. after stepping outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air, soon after, we exchanged numbers and headed our separate ways.

As the three of us got into our Uber, I laid my head on Banks lap and propped my legs up on Cypress to get a quick power nap as Cypress started rubbing and scratching my back. They usually don’t mind when I do this. Before drifting off I ask, “Can we do this again sometime? Especially with Blue and Clarke?”. “Of course we can love, anything for you, you precious little tickle big.” Cypress replies. I immediately drift off to there dream world.

As the car starts up to bring us back home, Banks pulls out his phone to text Blue and Clarke, “Ya’ll free next weekend? We HAVE to do this again!”. They both replied with an “Absolutely, count us in!”. And from that point on, it was all of us together having the absolute best time. Once Clarke and Blue got more familiar with the tickle world, Blue identified as a ler, and Clarke a switch.

The End.

#blazes tk prompts

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