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#father tyrone
themirrordemon · 11 months
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Brad Dourif as Father Tyrone - Final Judgement
The very important scene
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es05l2k5sl · 1 year
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Birthday drawing for the Amazing Brad Dourif of him and my personal favorite roles of his (right to left) Martin Klamski (Istanbul) The Man (Malignant 2013) Bud Cowan (Horseplayer), Father Daniel Tyrone (Final Judgement) and ... You already know who the last one is 😏
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roboraindrop · 2 months
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Sigh. Here I am once again Thinking about two BD characters that I did not f/o but greatly considered,,,,, Brother Edward and Father Tyrone, if ur out there, I care abt you very much 🥺
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jimbo-png · 3 months
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can someone on brad dourif tumblr who is a more talented editor than i am make a fancam of father daniel tyrone to the song like a prayer by madonna. please i am begging i will draw you whatever you want in return. please
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jojoware · 2 months
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youtube
first new music video to capture my attention in a long time
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megamindsecretlair · 6 months
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Let Me Hold You
Pairing: Tyrone x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, virginity loss, shy reader, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink if you squint, Soft Tyrone, all consensual. Mentions of religion, God, and Christian-leaning faith. Sorry if I miss any!
Summary: Ask: ...the reader is a virgin church girl, who, finds herself entangled in a predicament when her parents forbid her to be with the charismatic Tyrone. Despite this, the reader has a genuine friendship with him. They have crushes on each other but do not know how to tell each other.
Word Count: 5,803
A/N: Welp. This healed and broke some things in me! LOL. This was a wonderful ask from @notapradagurl7. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I felt so bad. I hope this was worth the wait. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland
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“And we don’t want you hanging out with that - that boy!” Your father paced the living room floor, his loafers kicking up the delicate fibers. 
“What?” You shrieked. Already, fear spiked into your heart. The thought of not seeing Tyrone? It was inconceivable. You looked toward your mother who perched on the end of the plump chair, proper as you please. She kept her eyes on your father. You wouldn’t get any help from her.
“I’m an adult, you can’t ban me from seeing my friends,” you protested. Did he really think he was serious? 
“It’s not appropriate for you to spend time with someone like him. If you’re to entertain anyone, there are plenty of nice young men at the church.” 
“Malcolm just returned from college to be an engineer. I always knew that boy was smart,” your mother chirped in. 
Your eyes darted between your parents. You half expected aliens to burst from their necks. These people were foreign to you. Unique in their united anger for Tyrone, a boy you’ve known your entire life. 
“Judge not lest ye be judged,” you quoted. Your mother scoffed and glared at you as if you said you wanted to shake your ass for Satan’s minions. Your father stopped his pacing and gawked at you. Like you were the foreign one. A daughter he didn’t recognize. 
“No daughter of mine will hang around someone like that boy. Peddling that poison to people in this community,” your father said. 
“That boy has been nothing but nice to us. A boy you watched grow up. A boy you assume is doing dirt,” you countered. What episode of the Twilight Zone was this? 
“I have eyes,” your father said. “And I see what’s going on. All the people running in and out of his house, his mother’s house I might add, and bumping that music…”
“I still live at home. Are you going to judge me for that too?” You asked. Your father pressed his lips together. 
“It’s different for women,” your mother said as if it were a fact. 
You tuned your parents out as they tried to tell you the difference between young men and young women. You didn’t have the heart to listen anymore. Your blood roared in your ears and you stared off into space, trying to calm down. 
You stood up suddenly. You needed to be anywhere but here. Looking into their judgemental faces. You made one mistake. Funny how they didn’t take into consideration all of the times you were a “good girl”. How you minded your Ps and Qs your entire life. Never did anything bad. Never wanted to do anything bad.
And now, they wanted to effectively place you under house arrest. Only leaving for school or church. This was not the stone ages. You couldn’t sit here under this oppressive weight. Constantly holding yourself to a higher standard. 
What higher standard? Did God really think that oppressing women was the ticket into Heaven? Placing all of these restrictions was the ultimate symbol of propriety? What happened to love thy neighbor? 
Your parents called after you, but you kept moving. You’d never defied them. You always deferred to them. They had experiences you didn’t and just wanted you to have a good life. Bullshit. They wanted a little doll to dress up and tote around town. 
At the door, you slipped into your flats and left the house. No purse, no phone, no keys. It felt…invigorating. That type of freedom was intoxicating. Your parents’ indignant shouts followed you out of the house but they didn’t come to the door. 
You took that opportunity to head down the block towards Tyrone’s house. You hoped he was home. You hadn’t had a chance to check your phone before your parents ambushed you.
His house looked dark for once. There were no cars bunched up in front of the house or thumping music coming from the front door. You ran up the steps and knocked on the metal door.
The cold air caught up to you, edging past the heat of your anger. It could only warm you up so far. There were no sounds coming from the house so you knocked again. It was still earlyish but you didn’t want to be loud and disrespect his mom. 
“Yeah,” Tyrone called out sleepily. You suppressed a smile. Just hearing his voice instantly calmed you down.
You heard a series of locks and bolts being undone. Tyrone swung the door open. He called out your name and looked behind you. 
“What’s up? We were s’posed to meet?” He asked.
“Can I come in?” You asked.
“Always,” he said. He moved out of the way and let you enter his darkened house. You took in the space and got a chilling sense of loneliness here. You didn’t know why. Tyrone closed the door and locked it.
“I was sleep. Come on,” he said. He took your hand and led you to his room. Inside, the sudden light gave you a tiny ache in your eyes and you rubbed them. Tyrone sat on his bed, leaning one leg up onto the mattress. 
You remained standing, suddenly shy. You hated feeling unsettled wherever you went. Even in the company of your friends, you paid attention to everything you said. Were you being weird? Were you not talking enough? It was all incredibly awkward whenever you tried to join the conversation and people had already moved on to the next topic. 
“What’s up?” Tyrone asked.
You sighed and recounted everything that happened with your parents. You paced his small but comfy room, poking at random objects on his desk or hanging on his wall. He had wrinkled Lakers posters torn in one corner. You picked at it as you spoke, not wanting to look him in the face while you spoke and ranted and raved about your judgy, overbearing parents. 
Tyrone was a great listener. He never interrupted you, he kept his comments to a minimum, and when you were brave enough to look at him, he’d nod for you to continue. So you did. You told him everything, even the part about your parents judging him for his side hustle. 
“They don’t want you to see me anymore because of that?” He asked. 
You nodded and sat on the bed next to him. “I told them they’re nuts. They can’t ban me from seeing you, I’m not sixteen,” you said.
“You were pretty cute when you were sixteen,” he said.
“Shut up! I’m trying to be serious here!” You pushed his shoulder. He moved as if you were strong, but you knew that he let you. Tyrone had always been an immovable force. He moved through life like it owed him money and he was coming to collect. He had a surety about himself that kept you up all night thinking of him. 
Your hand lingered on his bare arms, taking in his large biceps. His navy tank top hung just so, highlighting his broad smooth chest. He wore his signature black basketball shorts and you quickly removed your hand. You should not be having these thoughts about your best friend. 
“I’m serious too!” He said and chuckled. He quickly sobered up and glanced at you. “I’d miss you if I couldn’t see you.” 
You smiled slowly. “You’d only miss the chips I bring you,” you said. 
“Naw, I’d miss you. I’d have to stage a breakout or something,” he said. 
You laughed, picturing hopping into Tyrone’s getaway car just to drive a few houses down. Bonnie and Clyde ya’ll were not. 
You bumped his shoulder with yours. “There’s nothing that can keep us apart,” you said. You stuck out your pinkie finger. Tyrone looked at it and laughed, shaking his head and licking his lips. 
“Really?” He asked.
“Yeah, so you know I’m serious,” you said. You pushed your hand into his chest to urge him to do it with you. He shook his head again and wrapped his pinkie around yours. 
“So what you gonna do since they dropped the hammer?” Tyrone asked. 
“I don’t know,” you said. You tucked your legs under you, holding down your dress so no one got a free show. You played with the hem. “I wish they’d see me as an individual instead of an extension of their dead hopes and dreams.” 
“I feel that. You’re just gonna have to prove that you grown now,” he said with a shrug. 
“There’s nothing I can do. They’ll only see me as a goody two shoes who’s always ready with a smile. Like, I don’t have feelings or something? I’d have to rob a bank or have…” You trailed off as the intrusive thought came to you. 
You became very interested in your dress as you played with the rolled hem. “Have what?” Tyrone prompted.
You hummed and shrugged. “Lost my train of thought. Point is, I’m tired of living and dying by their own expectations,” you said. 
The thought didn’t leave you though. In fact, the more you turned it around in your head, the hotter it got in the room. Your imagination ran away from you, providing images of a naked Tyrone standing over you. Bending you over. Calling you dirty names. You shifted on the bed as the images became a little too vibrant.
You usually indulged in your fantasies late at night, safe and comfortable in your head where no one would know except you. It was harmless to be as nasty as you wanted, getting yourself worked up and needy but ultimately not doing anything about it. Could you imagine trying to order a sex toy and have it sent to the house? Trying to hide the buzz buzz as you got yourself off? It was either the towel on the pillow or your own fingers but once you felt awkward, it was hard to get back into the mood. 
“So don’t live by their expectations. What do you wanna do?” He asked. 
You glanced at him. He treated it as seriously as possible and that only made your heart melt. He was the bestest friend you could have hoped for, growing up together. But would you always be someone he grew up with? Forced to talk about his conquests over and over and wishing it were you? 
You licked your lips and faced him. You sat up straight and looked him in the eyes. Your heart thundered in your chest. You felt the steady beat all over, thumping in your arms and in your head. Now or never. 
“What would you say to a crazy idea?” You asked. 
Tyrone shifted to allow you more room on the bed. “What kind of crazy idea?” He asked slowly. 
You smiled at the mistrust in his voice. You were kind of known for some out of pocket schemes. It was not your fault that Mrs. Edwards came home early that one time. How were you supposed to know? 
You lost a bit of your nerve, looking down at your fingers. You gripped your dress hard, your fingers pressing the thin fabric. “What would you say if I asked you to take my virginity?” 
You risked a glance at him. He was frozen solid, gaping at you. After a moment, he blew out a breath. “Wait, what?” 
“I am tired of doing what people expect of me. Nothing is ever good enough and I never get anything out of the deal. I want something for myself. I want to have sex. I want to have sex with you,” you said. 
He tilted his head so you forged on, explaining why you wanted to have sex. “And I know it might be a little weird considering we’re friends but I’m pretty sure you’re not seeing someone right now? Right? Because I’d rather it be with someone I trust, at least the first time…” You rambled. You were rambling and you couldn’t make yourself stop. You heard the words. You said the words. But you couldn’t find a way to disconnect your brain from your mouth. “And you’re totally free to say no. Like, we can totally forget I asked.” 
After you crawled into a cave or yeeted yourself off of a cliff, surely you could be around Tyrone and not think of this stupid situation. 
You opened your mouth to ramble more because he was just sitting there, but he captured your lips with his. His hands cupped your jaw and pulled you into it, moving your lips against his. Your hands gripped his, but not to push him away. You held him there and kissed him back. Tyrone ran the tip of his tongue to trace around your lips. You gasped and he pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours.
“You have no fuckin’ clue how long I been wanting to do that,” he said, his voice hoarse. 
“Wait, what?” You asked. Your head was pleasantly fuzzy. Like you were full of fluffy clouds. “You’ve been wanting to kiss me?”
“Every time I see you. You got kissable lips,” he said. He made his point by kissing you again, humming low in his throat. He pulled away and ran his thumb across your lips. Each pass of his lips on yours or his calloused fingers on you only made your head fuzzier. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling yourself get more and more worked up.
“Why didn’t you ever say? Especially after ninth grade!” There was once upon a time where you two had danced at the high school you attended. You had found a dark-ish corner away from the chaperones and told Tyrone that you’d never been kissed. He had laid one on you, probably not well now that you thought about it, but it had been so precious to you. He ended it by saying, “Now you have”, and walked away. 
The memory was always bittersweet. But hell, it was still your first kiss. 
“I was a dumb ass kid. I didn’t know how to tell you I liked you more than a friend,” he said. 
Warmth spread from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. This lonely torch you’d been holding for Tyrone wasn’t one sided. You looked into his molten brown eyes and smiled, not knowing how to properly process this new information.
In fact, it blew you away that you were here at this moment. Who knew your holier-than-thou parents were good for something? 
“And now?” You asked.
Tyrone removed his hands from your face and you missed them instantly. He grabbed one of your hands, pulling it across his lap so that you could cup him. You gasped at the sheer size of him. Despite common myths, you have seen a dick before. But you’d never touched one. Held one. Sucked on one. 
Your mouth went dry at the thought. You wanted to suck him, but what if you were bad at it? Your lip rolled in between your teeth and you bit down, wondering the mechanics of it all. 
“Well, you did ask me for something huge. Are you sure?” He asked. His voice held a strange, raspy quality to it. You flicked your eyes back to him and he was breathing a little faster. Oh shit, he really did like you. How the hell did you miss it? 
“I’m very sure,” you said. You pressed your hand in more, stroking him over his basketball shorts. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he opened them and grinned at you. 
“I’ll do it. But I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me if you don’t like something or if you want to stop, okay?” 
You nodded. “I promise. I’m a big girl, I can use my words,” you said. Your hands still moved over him and you must’ve been doing something right because his breaths left him in quick bursts. He rubbed his face and gripped his jaw, eyes tightly shut. 
“Okay, okay,” he said. He stilled your hand on him and moved it off. “Okay, okay. Virgin. Have you done anything? Gotten eaten out?” He asked.
You sighed and shook your head. “Yeah, I just snuck them up to my room while my dad was busy in the kitchen,” you said.
Tyrone chuckled. “Okay, smart ass. Give me a minute. I’m like…I don’t wanna just jump on you even though I want to,” he said. He stood up and rubbed his hands together, jumping in place. 
You giggled. “I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one,” you said. And you were! Your nerves were shot. Your hands trembled thinking of what the hell you were about to get into. You had fantasized it so many times, wondering who it would be. Sometimes wishing it were Tyrone. And while you didn’t think it would be all glitzy like they do in the movies, you did think you’d be married. Or at least in a steady relationship.
As you looked at Tyrone though, you were glad it was with someone you were comfortable with. Someone who took your usual anxiety from 100% to about 65%. 
Tyrone smirked. “If you knew the thoughts I be having about you…you might run out that door,” he said. “I’m trying to do this right.” 
You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Don’t treat me like some glass doll,” you said. You titled your head and stared him down. “You forgetting I know all your nasty little secrets?” 
Tyrone chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Shut up. That’s different. I ain’t care about them, but I do care about you. Don’t ever treat this shit as casual,” he said. 
You sucked your teeth. “Not you too. I promise, I’m not going around opening my legs for any man that wants it,” you said. You were about to go on a tirade about how it was your body and your rules. Tyrone shut you up with another kiss, tugging on your bottom lip. 
“The thought of anyone else in between your legs makes me angry,” he whispered against your lips.
“Angry?” 
He nodded and continued to kiss you, sliding his hands up and down your arms. His warm, big hands chased away any lingering chill from outside. He slowly knelt so that he wasn’t bending at an awkward angle. 
His knees sank to the floor and he nestled himself in between your thighs. His hands continued to travel down, squeezing your hips, your outer thighs. Your hands held on to his shoulders, kneading and massaging his back. He moaned into your mouth and a delicious tingle went up your spine. 
“Mhm, so don’t say that shit no more,” he said. 
“You can’t expect…”
His hands crept closer to your pussy and you ended your sentence on a squeak. Heat rose up your neck and cheek. “Relax,” he said. You took a few deep breaths, nodding, but you were as stiff as a board. Tyrone stopped moving his hand and kept it on your thigh.
“You gotta relax. And let me do this for you,” he said. His thumb pressed into your thigh and your body caved in. He somehow zeroed in on a knot and his thumb worked it out. “Oh fuck,” you said. 
“Mhm, you’ll feel better in a minute. But you gotta relax for me,” he said.
Sure, as if you could snap your fingers and relax. Wouldn’t you know it, anxiety was a light switch you could flick on and off at your leisure. Tyrone must’ve seen your thoughts play across your face, because he chuckled. 
“Do you have any fuckin’ idea how sexy you are?” He asked.
“What?” You asked. The question caught you off guard. You knew you were gorgeous, you knew you were working with some thick thighs and a pretty tummy. But sexy? Somehow, you missed the memo about sex appeal. You swore that guys could see “virgin” stamped across your forehead.
“Mhm. Whenever you walk out the house in one of these dresses, I just keep picturing how you look underneath. If that pussy nice and pink and wet.” His voice went deeper, harsher, bringing with it dark, carnal promises.
Your thighs tingled. Your hands shook. You bit your bottom lip to keep from moaning like a ho. Tyrone kissed your jaw, then moved up to your ear. “You nice and wet for me? You want me to play with it right?” He asked.
“Yes, yes, play with it,” you said.
Tyrone moved his hand up. Your thighs were burning hot from where they rested against each other. Tyrone nudged you to open your legs. He hummed while he kissed along your ear. “I wonder if you taste as good you feel.”
You dropped your head against him. “You can’t be saying shit like that,” you said.
“Look at you, with your little potty mouth,” he said.
“Shut up, Tyrone!” 
He only laughed and finally, blessedly, reached your core. He played with the edges of your panties, seeing the way you squirmed and moaned. He slipped his finger past the material and cursed under his breath.
“Damn, all of that for me? How you gon’ run home to Daddy with panties this soaked?” Tyrone asked.
You stuttered out a response. How were you supposed to form a coherent sentence when his fingers were on you? His fingers glided in between your slick folds, pushing past your pussy lips, and tracing the outside of your clit.
Your eyes bugged out of your head. Your mouth dropped in a tiny little ‘o’ and Tyrone’s eyes narrowed as he took in your expression. He kissed you once, too quickly for your taste, and smirked at you.
“You gotta stop being so damn cute,” he said. “Makes me want to do all kinds of nasty shit to you.” 
You moaned, picturing those disgusting things. His thumb rubbed over your clit and you scrunched up your face in pleasure. 
How was it that this felt infinitely different and better than when you did it to yourself? He knew exactly what to do, taking cues from your moans and grunts and pretty gasps. You sent up a prayer, thankful that this was with someone experienced. Then again, God probably wasn’t listening right about now.
Tyrone traced slow circles on your clit. You looked through your lashes at his smug face. He knew he was driving you wild. You hissed and jerked when he got to a particularly sensitive spot. “Shh, shh, breathe,” he said. 
He held your gaze as you took in deep breaths. Your belly flipped and tightened, the beginning stirrings of something naughty making its way to the surface. Your gaze traveled down. Tyrone’s hand was completely under your dress. It was somehow hotter that you couldn’t see what he was doing to you.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” You moaned.
“Mhm, pray to him for mercy. Because you ain’t gettin’ that shit from me,” Tyrone’s raspy voice was like its own arrow of desire. Your thighs shook. Your feet dangled over the side of the bed. Your toes curled. 
“Tyrone, please,” you said. You gripped his shoulders. His smooth brown skin shone with its own light. 
“Let me take these panties off,” Tyrone said.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you said. 
Tyrone stopped rubbing your clit. “No,” you growled. What the hell was he doing? You were so close! Your belly still felt tight, overripe like at any moment you would burst. 
Tyrone chuckled and lifted your dress. The fabric drew across your thighs like scorching fire. You hissed. You were on a precipice and any movement would hurt or hinder. You didn’t want to find out which. 
Tyrone pushed your dress up to your hips. Then, he grabbed the top of your panties and moved it down. He held you as you lifted up and slipped them off your ass. He smiled. “Never thought I’d get to see you like this,” he said.  
“I’m glad it’s you,” you said and smiled.
“I’m glad it’s you,” he said. “Remember to breathe for me.”
He kept your gaze as he pushed your legs over his shoulders. He grabbed your hips and pulled you forward until your ass was half hanging off of the bed. You cried out and he kissed your thighs until you calmed down.
Your heart beat in your pussy. The throb throb throb drove you mad. You were needy. You needed something more, anything more. 
Tyrone blew a breath across your wet pussy and you cried out, jerking your hips. Tyrone only locked his arms around you, curling his biceps around your thigh. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. 
Tyrone flattened his tongue and licked you from your pussy to your clit and back down again. A choppy moan left you. Your back bowed off of the bed. Your hands gripped the front of your dress. It wasn’t enough to hold so you moved your hands down to grip the bunched up hem. 
He ran his nose through your folds. He inhaled. “Smell so fuckin’ good, got damn,” he said. “Pretty ass pussy.”
He then drew his tongue in a slow circle around your clit. Locked as you were, he didn’t leave room for movement. You barely wiggled. Squirmed underneath his sinful tongue. With each new circle, he moved in closer. He tongued you closer to your clit and you whined and moaned and cried.
Your belly tightened once more. A cresting inferno built and built, radiating waves of heat throughout your body. 
Somehow, this too was more potent coming from him. Your body jerked out of your control, twitching every which way, as he created magic around your clit. He slurped up your juices. Slurped it loudly and greedily. He tongued it all down, getting his juicy lips wet with your essence.
You spoke in tongues, muttering and chirping. Tyrone’s tongue moved downwards, rimming your entrance and pushing his tongue inside.
“Oh god. Oh fuck. Tyrone, Tyrone,” you moaned. Your hands flexed. You searched for Tyrone’s head, his neat cornrows were going to get messed up tonight. You palmed him anyway, pushing his head into your pussy and started to gyrate on his mouth. 
“Mhm, mhm,” he encouraged. “That’s my good girl.”
You came with a loud yell. You could barely breathe. The sounds and words were dragged out of you. A hidden instinct buried in your DNA to say something, to help ride this awe-inducing wave. A flood of pleasure moved through you. 
Tyrone held you down through it all. His biceps flexed with your movements back and forth. He still ate you out, flicking his tongue around your nub. 
“F-f-f-.” Fuck it, you couldn’t say it. 
You flopped onto the bed, spent. You moaned as you twitched and calmed down. Tyrone leaned up. You looked at him. His face was slick across his jaw. A spit chain drooped. He licked his big lips and moaned.
“Ready for this dick?” He asked.
You sniffled and nodded. “Please. Please, I'm so ready,” said.
“You don't’ need a break?” He asked.
“Hell naw. Please,” you said. 
He nodded and placed a wet kiss on your thigh. He cleaned off his face on his tank top. He stood up. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a sitting position. You put your chin on his stomach and looked up at him. 
He sighed and rolled his neck. “What I tell you about lookin’ so cute?” He asked. 
“I can’t help being cute,” you said. 
“Lyin’ ass. Yes, you can,” he said.
You sucked your teeth. “How am I supposed to do that?” 
“Ion know. Burp or something,” he said.
You giggled and hugged him around his middle. You grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. 
“You really have no idea,” he whispered. You grinned. 
He stepped back and pulled off his shorts. His dick bobbed twice, standing at attention. He was definitely thick and long and perfect. Your shyness tried to budge back in. Your heartbeat sped up thinking of that getting inside of you. 
He twisted and leaned over. You admired his body as his muscles bunched. He was solid, stocky. A thick man with amazing thighs and ass. Cool air blew across your pussy and you bit your lip. Fuck. 
He grabbed a condom. Watching him was its own brand of sensual torture. His fingers moved deftly to open the package. He rolled on the condom, pulling the latex over the length of him. He pinched the top. 
He stalked closer, running his eyes over you. “Let me take this dress off,” he said.
You smiled and nodded. He helped you pull it off. Your bra went next. “You’re so damn sexy,” he said. 
He palmed your breasts, rubbing and pushing them together. He leaned down and brought your nipples into his mouth. He moved between your boobs, suckling and placing that warm mouth around the peaks. 
Your legs jerked up. You wrapped them around his waist. His shirt got trapped beneath your legs. He pulled it out and the shirt draped across his chest. His dick brushed against you and you cried out. He was so close to giving you what you needed. Your nails dug into his sides. He ignored you. He played with your nipples until you were a bumbling, squirming mess. 
“T-T-Tyrone,” your teeth chattered.
“Mhm, I know. Ready for me?” He asked.
“Yessss,” you moaned. 
“Sure?” He asked. He rubbed his dick through your arousal. You soaked him instantly. There was so much on you. The cool air hit across it on your skin. You knew exactly how much of a mess you made. It made you hornier. How did you go through life without this? Without this feeling?
Without this obsession running in your veins. This deep-seated need. This lustful shot of adrenaline threatening to burn your skin off. 
Tyrone’s hand wrapped around your hip. His other hand guided his dick towards your entrance. He pushed in and you gasped. He slipped in thanks to how wet you were. But fuck! He filled you completely. 
“Breathe,” he commanded. He stopped and moved his shirt out of the way. “You gotta breathe.”
You nodded. He helped you take deep breaths. “That’s right. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get dick,” he cooed. 
That should piss you off. But you wanted to be a good girl for him. You wanted to listen and get praised some more. 
Your breathing evened out. Tyrone leaned down and kissed you. As he kissed you, he pushed in. Your hand flew to his chest, pushing at him. Fuck. It kind of hurt, but it was a good hurt? You could tolerate him pushing in. You clenched around him and he hissed. 
He sank inch by inch into you. He cursed the whole time. “Fuck, feel too good. Feel too good,” he muttered. “Gripping the shit out of me.”
The praise made you moan and you clenched around him. A drop of his sweat fell onto your chest. Your own sweat slick skin pebbled in the cool air. 
Tyrone moved out and then pushed back in. The slide in would hurt briefly but then morph into pleasure as you felt him move inside of you. He was deep, stretching you out. Molding your pussy to the curve of his dick. 
He began to speed up. He flipped his shirt up and held it in his mouth. He moaned. “Can still smell you,” he said, though his voice was muffled. 
Both hands held onto your waist. He moaned as he sank deeper, you welcoming him better. “You okay?” He asked.
“Yuh,” you nodded. 
“Sure?” 
“Yu-uh,” you moaned. He was doing nothing more vigorous than moving back and forth, but he felt amazing. He filled you up. He hit that deep seat of emptiness inside of you. A place you hadn’t been able to get to on your own.
The feeling brought tears to your eyes. He twisted and brought you down on his dick a little faster. “Ohmygod,” you cried. He reached a spot that made you explode all over him. 
You cursed the heavens, you cursed hell. You cursed the world in between. You felt large. Humongous. You felt like you could grab the world with both hands. Power and pleasure suffused you. You moaned out loud, heedless of anyone who could hear. 
“Oh fuck, so tight,” Tyrone hips jerked. His fingers dug into your hips. The pressure made you moan. He jerked and thrusted one more time, going as far as he was able, and you felt him pulse inside of you.
You imagined him filling you up with his cum. You moaned as the thought made your pussy throb. Tyrone twitched and panted on top of you. He left you slowly, sliding out in a way that wouldn’t hurt you.
You missed him immediately. He wiped his sweat on his shirt and took off the condom. He tied it and threw it in a nearby trashcan. 
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You flopped onto the bed. Looked up at the popcorn ceiling. Were there words to describe how okay you were? How fantastic you felt? “So good,” you murmured. 
And you did feel really good. You expected to feel shame after having sex. You’d avoided it for so long, you started to feel like a freak for still being a virgin at your big age. But you didn’t. You were mostly sore. You were going to feel this in the morning and right now, you couldn’t care less. 
Tyrone left for a moment and you just focused on your breathing. On trying to recapture that euphoric feeling of that orgasm. Chasing after it like the wayward string of a balloon. 
He returned and placed a warm cloth against your pussy. You hissed at the unexpected sensation. He cooed at you while he cleaned you up. You smiled at him. “You didn’t have to,” you said.
“Yeah, I did. I was raised to clean up after myself,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. He left once more, getting rid of the washcloth. He took off his shirt and hopped into bed with you, pulling you chest to chest. He rubbed your back and looked into your eyes.
“You’re so cute,” he said.
“You are,” you said. You bumped his nose. 
“How you really feelin’?” He asked.
“Honestly? I feel really good. Sore, but tired.” 
“Would you want to do it again?” He asked.
“Hell yes! Are you kidding? There’s so much I want to try,” you said.
Tyrone laughed, shaking his head. He pecked you on the lips. He moaned and then pressed in for longer, licking your bottom lip and rolling it between his teeth. 
“Mm, does that mean I can get back in that pretty pussy?” He asked.
You caressed his cheek. Running your thumb across his supple skin. “That’s exactly what that means.”
&&&
Psst, there's more! The Secret Tyrone Files
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nbasource · 9 months
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"We had the same exact dream and we carry the exact name, Dwyane Tyrone Wade. To know we hustled all the way to the Basketball Hall of Fame is God’s will. So Pops, I know your knees are a little sore, but will you join me on stage as we take our rightful step into basketball heaven?"
DWYANE WADE and his father at the 2023 Basketball Hall of Fame enshrinement
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exdeputysonso · 9 months
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Brad Dourif as Father Tyrone | Final Judgement (1992)
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themirrordemon · 11 months
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More gifs of Father Tyrone - Final Judgement
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avenirdelight · 10 months
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“what do you mean you’ve got a little one?” “ten months, bro.” “no way.” “yeah!” “congrats, mate. what is it?” “a boy!” “happy father’s day!!” “HAHAHAHAHA”
(i’m not that good at listening so please correct me if i’m wrong but did tyrone really not know that dec’s a father??)
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mercurytojupiter · 3 months
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the labyrinth - prologue
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a/n: i'm going through an archie madekwe phase no one look at me
warnings: farleigh being farleigh, which includes underage drugs, drinking, cigarettes and sex 18+
fic summary: ariadne gavin and her childhood best friend turned enemy return to saltburn for the last time
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Ariadne Gavin wishes she could say the first Catton she met was Felix or even Venetia. She would have loved to explain to people how she had tripped into Venetia at the airport when she first landed in England, or how she had been greeted by Felix's already tall, grinning face.
Instead, the truth was, the only reason the Cattons held their arms open to her as they did was because of Farleigh fucking Start.
Ariadne had met Farleigh when she was seven. Her father, Laurence Gavin, was a new money tech mogul who was making a name for himself selling computers. He had dragged her along to a fundraising gala, and it was there that Ariadne found herself forever enamoured with the Cattons.
Ariadne had never met another child before. Her upbringing was limited to her Nanny, Lilian, the house staff, Douglas, Marcus, and Tyrone, and her mother, Vienna. Ariadne had only even known that white people existed because of her storybooks.
"Hello," She whispers politely. "My name is Ariadne Marie Gavin."
"I'm Farleigh." The little boy shrugs.
Ariadne tilts her head. "How old are you?"
Farleigh looks at her strangely. "Seven and a half."
Ariadne pouts. "Oh. I'm just seven."
Farleigh's eyes widen in panic. "That's okay! Don't be upset! It's okay to be smaller than me! Normally I'm the smallest person."
"Youngest." Ariadne corrects.
"M'kay," Farleigh says, but makes no move to say the sentence correctly. He jumps down from his chair and squishes her cheeks. "Do you want to play hide and seek?"
"Won't the grown-ups be mad we're gone?"
"They never notice." Farleigh smiles.
That smile got Ariadne in more trouble than she could count over the next thirteen years.
At some point between seven and a half and fourteen, Farleigh stopped being her only friend. Or, more accurately, Farleigh began to make friends and it meant that Ariadne was going to be alone unless she made some of hers.
Or, that was, until Saltburn.
Ariadne didn't like the person Farleigh was becoming ever since they'd become teenagers. He'd been mean, and flaky, and worst of all, he kept hitting on her friends.
And yes, perhaps she was a little jealous, but she had always been territorial, and Farleigh was hers, not Ashley's or Jessica's. Besides, Farleigh grew like a beanstalk, and all her friends only liked him because he was tall. They didn't spend Sunday evenings conditioning his hair or laugh at his terrible -and slightly mean- jokes.
Overall, they had begun to drift a tad, but a crack was not a canyon, as her father liked to say.
But that didn't mean Farleigh wasn't still the only person her age she truly trusted, so he still came over to her house every Sunday to do homework and complain.
"Did I tell you my mom's family wants me to come to England over the summer?" He sighs, stretched out on her floor.
Ariadne has her nose tucked into her copy of Pride and Prejudice for her book report and looks up suddenly. "Excuse me?"
"I know, right? Like, why would I waste my summer-" Farleigh starts.
Ariadne shushes him. "Shut up, Far. Doesn't your mom's family pay for all your mom's shit? And yours, for that matter?"
"I mean, yeah, but they always said I'm out after eighteen." He shrugs.
Ariadne grins. "Because they don't know you. But if, say, you went to England in the summers, made connections with them, flashed some puppy dog eyes," she trails off.
Farleigh raises a brow. "You want me to go to them like some kind of homeless kid asking for spare change on Alameda Street?"
Ariadne kicks him. "No, I want you to use your brain. You're going to be my business partner once I inherit, obviously, but it's going to be obvious that we're only working together because we're friends if you don't at least have a college degree. Now, imagine, we get into some fancy British university, we network with like a billion people, and suddenly we have investors lining up at graduation."
"All it'll cost me is my pride." Farleigh grumbles.
Ariadne purses her lips. "Not if I come with. Then, it's just going to be us, two rich kids, going and being rich on a different continent over the summers."
Farleigh sits up. "I'm going to hate this, aren't I?"
"Not in the long run." Ariadne grins.
Ariadne wishes she'd never suggested going to Saltburn. She and Farleigh were one change in conversation away from escaping the Cattons and she'd never forgive herself for it.
Maybe it's the new money, manifest destiny, red-blooded American in her, but she never liked the look of Saltburn. She missed her modern, sleek home in Bel-Air, and from a single look, she knew Farleigh did too.
Saltburn was cold and ancient. There was no carpet, only million-year-old Persian rugs. No many-buttoned showers, only antiquated tubs. They didn't even have a bidet, which Ariadne thought was borderline uncivilized.
But they adjusted, slowly but surely, to the famous, trademark brand of Catton Madness that had sent his mother running for the hills all those years before.
Farleigh hadn't known that Felix and Venetia were their age, but they certainly were, and they were wilder and more English than anyone Ariadne had ever met.
She also found that they took to calling her demeaning, patronizing pet names like "Pet" or "Girlie." Farleigh got about the same treatment, only, in her opinion, worse, because there was no way to spin "Boy" or "Dog" as respectful.
Vee liked to call her "Newmo", short for "New Money" and Ariadne knew this was an insult, but bit her tongue.
She did that a lot, after Saltburn.
She starts at St. Mary Magdelene's Secondary Academy for Girls with Venetia that year, and Farleigh attends St. John's Secondary Academy for Boys with Felix. Twice a year, the adjoined schools have huge dances and dinners where they exercise their best manners.
The Gala is poorly chaperoned, as it is also the only time the faculty gets to mix and mingle. The dinner is mostly manner-based, but by the time the dance begins, most adults turn their heads away from the teenage drama and illegal activity.
When their first Fall Gala comes around, Ariadne looks around excitedly for Farleigh, peering through the crowd of white faces. She wants to tell him everything that's happened since they separated at the start of the school year.
Unfortunately, all she gets is Felix's stupid face. "Where's Farleigh?"
Felix rolls his eyes grinningly. "Smoking outside. Again."
Ariadne blinks, takes a step back, and laughs disbelievingly. Farleigh had gotten more rebellious since they'd become teenagers, sure, and maybe England was rubbing off on him, but he never smoked. "Are you kidding?"
Felix snickers. "He said you'd be pissed off."
That was another thing Ariadne hated about the Cattons. Everything was a fucking joke to them.
"No fucking shit!" She whisper-shouts. "He can't- He's going to ruin his lungs! This is my fault, I knew it was a bad idea for us to go to different schools!" She bites her lip, flicking her wrists in and out.
It was a terrible nervous tick. Lilian had always said it was unbecoming. Ariadne couldn't shake it.
Felix steadies her by the arms, charming doe eyes staring right into hers. "Farleigh will be fine, everyone smokes once in a while. Besides, he's finally letting loose, isn't that worth something?"
Ariadne wants to spit that it is not something, because Farleigh doesn't need to let loose, he needs more structure. He'd already been let loose his whole life and Ariadne had spent most of hers cleaning up the debris.
She doesn't yell at Felix, just shakes her head mutely.
"Well, maybe you need to let loose too. Vee's got weed or shrooms or something in the bathroom, go try that."
And, shockingly, Ariadne lets Felix lead her to the door of the Girl's bathroom, where a small puff of fogged-up air escapes.
"Have fun, Pet!"
He shoves her inside and lets the door swing closed.
Vee offers her a joint, grinning, and for the first time, Ariadne's thoughts cease.
After Ariadne is introduced to weed for the first time, she no longer worries about Farleigh. Still, the worst does not come until the Spring Gala, when she walks in on him losing his virginity to Arabella Vaillancourt.
All the jealousy she had felt in middle school hit a breaking point then. This wasn't flirting or even a kiss on the cheek. Arabella had claimed Farleigh in a way Ariadne would never be able to compensate for.
Ariadne turns her head away from the sight of them, sweating and naked and wholly consumed by each other and goes back to her dorm.
Vee sees her tears and offers her a line of coke, and from that point on, Ariadne and Farleigh are no longer friends or even allies.
When the summer break retrieves them again, she hardly looks at him in favour of making jokes with Venetia and walking Felix through the process of getting girls to like him. While Felix was pretty, most of the girls their age couldn't stand him because he was so boring to talk to. She pierces his eyebrow so he has something interesting to talk about. Felix is horrible at flirting, too. Not like Farleigh, she thinks, recalling the many girls he had wooed bitterly.
Soon, everyone at Saltburn forgets that Ariadne and Farleigh were ever even a pair. Or, in their respective cases, at least pretend to forget.
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anamoon63 · 4 months
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The other reason of Tyron and Candice's marriage falling apart is Ty's obsession with this young fan of him, Katie O'Dourke. Tyron's brothers have advised or rather begged him to stay away from Katie until he's divorced in order to avoid problems with Katie's father, university professor Liam O'Dourke, who doesn't sim to like Tyron at all. It doesn't help that Katie is also bewitched with Ty.
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All that remains is to pray Candice grants Ty the divorce quick, cause, for Katie's parents, if Tyron is really interested in Katie, he'll have to propose to her and marry her before starting any kind of relationship. I don't think getting a divorce is the problem, since Candice is more urgent about it than Tyron is, the real issue is going to be the fight over Brandi's legal custody.
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Disclaimer: Katie's pic posted above is from when she and Tyron first met as he delivered a sing-a-gram from her parents. Katie was a teen then, but shortly after she became a young adult, so nothing illegal here. Note and possible spoiler: The Katie affair is not even the tip of the iceberg of problems that await Tyron, clearly not the wisest of the Cho Brothers. 🙄
So, these are the most relevant events occurred in Hidden Springs since Dale and Kelly left for college for their last term. I thought I should update you on what's happened to Tyron, the older of The Cho Brothers and the other people in his life. Talking about side stories 😉
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consanguinitatum · 15 days
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In honor of David Tennant's Olivier nomination for Macbeth...
I feel like giving out something special from my collection in celebration of David Tennant's nomination for Macbeth at today's Olivier Awards:
Here's a photo printed in a local newspaper from Long Day's Journey Into Night, a 1994 production David did at the Dundee Rep!
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This was the second time David had starred alongside Edith MacArthur, who famously told David's father Sandy he'd do just that someday (the first time had been in 1992's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, also at the Dundee Rep.)
Here he plays Edmund Tyrone, a consumptive (which you can see from his haggard appearance.)
I wish it was a better quality photo, but ya know....sometimes you have to take what you can get!
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bibiwrld · 10 months
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ANARCHY🎸⚡️| Hobie Brown
previous: –seven.
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–eight.
THIRD PERSON POV
Pav sang Bad Habit by Steve Lacy for the second time, since he insisted that he deserved an encore, he censored himself for Mayday of course.
Peter and went up and sang Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears. The adorable duo gained the crowd's affection. Mayday clapping offbeat and babbling into the mic anytime her father brought the mic down to her.
It was now someone else's turn.
Miles raised his. "I wann—"
Gwen quickly covered his mouth, noticing that Hobie was trying to convince Sasha to go next.
"Come on doll, no need to be shy." His polished fingers caressed her chin, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "I want to hear that pretty voice."
She avoided his intimidating stare. "O-okay." She stood up and went in front of them. She picked up the mic. "Right Side of My Neck by Faye Webster."
Jess typed it into the search bar on the YouTube app of the large TV. Music started playing and the lyrics were displayed on the screen.
Sasha was nervous— her head down and her free hand fiddling with the hem of her shit.
"You said you can't change your haircut—" Her voice was soft and sweet, delicate even. "But it looks good anyway."
Hobie sat up, being shocked by the sweetness of her voice. Pavitr glanced at Hobie and smiled at his reaction, he thought it was adorable.
Even Miguel was a little caught off guard. Little Mayday giggled and clapped at the girl in front of her.
She gradually raised her head, glancing at everyone. "The right side of my neck still smells like you." She felt like she was on an episode of American Idol.
Hobie's bright smile made her shy away. A smile of her own creeping up on her face. Hobie thought she was the purest girl he's ever laid eyes on— a winsome little thing.
"The right side of my neck still smells like you." She gradually slowed down. "The right side of my neck still smells like you."
The song ended and everyone cheered, well except for Miguel— he clapped twice.
She placed the mic back on the table behind of her and retreated to Hobie's side.
" 's so good, I loved it." He wrapped his arms around her. God, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, she was just perfect to him.
"Thank you, Hobie." She hugged him back.
He rested his head on top of hers, cuddling with her.
"Gosh Hobes, don't squeeze the girl to death." Jess joked while looking at the pair cuddled up on the couch by themselves.
Hobie only brought her closer.
"Me next." Jess slowly got up.
"Nuh uh!" Miles stood up.
A hand was placed on her hip and a brow rose."What the fuck you mean nuh uh?"
"Oh God." Miguel sighed.
Peter immediately covered Mayday's ears. "Hey guys, how about turning off the profanity?"
"Oh shit— I mean..sorry Peter." Jess nervously chuckled.
🌀
Jess did end up getting her turn after Sasha. Miles had no other choice but to let her, with Pav and Gwen telling him "She's literally pregnant." and "That's like not giving up your seat for a pregnant lady."
Jess sang Tyrone by Erykah Badu, of course censoring herself for Mayday.
Gwen and Miles went up together, sharing the mic and singing Not Allowed by TV Girl. The duo censored themselves at different curse words by saying "uhhh" or just laughing. They were so in love and everyone could tell— well except for Miguel in that moment, he was asleep.
Now it was Hobie's turn. It didn't take long for him to decide on a song— Vixen by Ayesha Erotica.
He gave a cheeky smile to Sasha, paired with a wink while singing. Hobie wasn’t the shy type, he was very bold. Dare him to kiss a girl he’s been crushing on and he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“If you want to I can play victim.” His accent was so thick. “I am your vixen.”
Sasha shifted in her as he took slow strides towards her. Everyone watched his actions carefully— except for Miguel, he was asleep, still.
“I can meet you in the car lot.” He bent down to her level, his face just inches away from hers. His hand grabbed hers, placing it on his thigh, slowly guiding it to his crotch. “I’ll spread out on your hot rod.” He leaned back up, towering over her. His hips slowly rolled to the song, smiling down at her, he knew what he was doing to her.
Peter covered Mayday’s eyes. “Wait can he do that? Is this allowed? Aren’t there words to censor?”
“Uhh..” Was all Gwen could utter.
Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Jessica and Peter all stared in awe.
Sasha was stunned by his actions, looking away in embarrassment, but not pulling her hand away. Hobie chuckled lightly at her reaction, thinking it was the cutest thing ever.
“You guys feel the sexual tension too, right?” Pavitr asked with raised brows.
“Yes.” They all answered.
Hobie’s thumb lightly pressed down on Sasha’s bottom and top lip. “You can touch and feel just don’t get in the way. Lust and drugs, no intuition. Who goes first? Make your decision.”
Sasha stared, she was getting lost in his eyes, it’s as if he had her under a spell. The way she looked at him— he was so hard, she could probably feel it through his pants.
He sang the final line of the chorus and slowly moved the mic from his mouth, crouching down to her level. She began leaning up to meet him—
“Please don’t have sex in front of us.” Miles let out.
Hobie chuckled and pulled away from Sasha, leaving her a little disappointed.
“That was fun!” Pavitr clasped his hands together.
“Uh…very stimulating.” Gwen scratched her head.
Jess and Peter took a selfie with a sleeping Miguel.
Sasha stood up and stretched. She checked her phone to see multiple messages from different people and also noticed that it was extremely late.
“I’ve got work in the morning.” She groaned.
“I’ll take ya home, just give me your number and send the address.” Hobie spun the car keys on his pointing finger.
“O-okay.”
📁
Next part: –nine.
Tags: @urmotherswhor3 @kay-i-guess
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toofunktastic · 28 days
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Here’s a dump of things I’ve gifted elsewhere but haven’t gifted here yet
Six - Second US National Tour (Boleyn)
April 2, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan
Matinée
Cast:
Gerianne Pérez (Catherine of Aragon), Zan Berube (Anne Boleyn), Alina Faye (Jane Seymour), Cecilia Snow (s/b Anna of Cleves), Aline Mayagoitia (Katherine Howard), Sydney Parra (Catherine Parr)
Notes:
Never to be posted on any form of social media including, but not limited to, YouTube/Instagram/TikTok
https://mega.nz/folder/7kUDAJSJ#6nS_R4lKk9AZNfbXmbOsrQ
Six - Second US National Tour (Boleyn)
April 5, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan
Cast:
Gerianne Pérez (Catherine of Aragon), Zan Berube (Anne Boleyn), Amina Faye (Jane Seymour), Terica Marie (Anna of Cleves), Aline Mayagoitia (Katherine Howard), Sydney Parra (Catherine Parr)
Notes:
Includes BCEFA speech. Recorded from front row. Dropped my phone right after Heart of Stone, but I picked it up before anything major happened. Never to be posted on any social media including, but not limited to, YouTube, Instagram and TikTok.
https://mega.nz/folder/Th0ghSQa#pYEP5D2mEqM_Y5UU4SZ0qw
Ain't Too Proud - The Life and Times of the Temptations
US National Tour
January 17, 2024 mat
Madeapactwithsatan's master
Cast:
**Jeremy Kelsey (u/s Otis Williams)**, E. Clayton Cornelious (Paul Williams), Harrell Holmes Jr. (Melvin Franklin), Jalen Harris (Eddie Kendricks), Elijah Ahmad Lewis (David Ruffin), **Treston J. Henderson (u/s Dennis Edwards)**, Felander (Lamont), **Brian C. Binion (u/s Berry Gordy)**, Ryan M. Hunt (Shelly Berger), Tiffany Francès (Josephine), Devin Holloway (Smokey Robinson/Slick Talk Fella/Damon Harris), Devin Price (Al Bryant/Norman Whitfield), **Nazarria Workman (u/s Diana Ross)**, Shayla Brielle G. (Mama Rose/Florence Ballard/Tammi Terrell), Brittny Smith (Johnnie Mae/Mary Wilson), Devin Holloway ("Gloria" Soloist/Interviewer/Delivery Man/Richard Street)
Notes: Amazing cast for this show. However it is a jukebox musical and thus has the normal issue of singing along, talking, phones ringing (and maybe even me sighing and saying to shut up). Gift upon request, but do not post any form of social media.
https://mega.nz/folder/r88XBRaB#sYHUFtMg8v4hcv1nNF-_iA
Mrs. Doubtfire - First US National Tour
February 10, 2024 matinée
madeapactwithsatan's master
Cast:
Rob McClure (Daniel Hillard), Maggie Lakis (Miranda Hillard), Giselle Gutierrez (Lydia Hillard), Cody Braverman (Christopher Hillard), Emerson Mae Chan (Natalie Hillard), Aaron Kaburick (Frank Hillard), Marquez Linder (u/s Andre Mayem), Romelda Teron Benjamin (Wanda Sellner), Leo Roberts (Stuart Dunmire), David Hibbard (Mr. Jolly/Judge), Jodi Kimura (Janet Lundy)
Notes:
This is a show I saw. Gift upon request. Do not post anywhere on any social media.
https://mega.nz/folder/Xl1BwQQY#BVT-MB9tf-ouXzrV49ebTQ
Waitress - Broadway Remount
September 16, 2021 - madeapactwithsatan
Cast:
Sara Bareilles (Jenna), Charity Angel Dawson (Becky), Caitlin Houlahan (Dawn), Drew Gehling (Dr. Pomatter), Joe Tippett (Earl), Dakin Matthews (Joe), Eric Anderson (Cal), Christopher Fitzgerald (Ogie), Nora Lincoln Weiner (Lulu), Tyrone Davis Jr., Matt DeAngelis, Henry Gottfried, Molly Jobe, Max Kumangai, Anastacia McCleskey, Stephanie Torns, Nyla Watson
Notes:
Very responsive crowd.
https://mega.nz/folder/fks0EAxR#zP0Yvhqp0Z5sK0jhueYrnw
Waitress - First US National Tour
February 13, 2018 - madeapactwithsatan
Cast:
Desi Oakley (Jenna), Charity Angél Dawson (Becky), Emily Koch (u/s Dawn), Bryan Fenkart (Dr. Pomatter), Jeremy Morse (Ogie), Ryan G Dunkin (Cal), Larry Marshall (Joe), Nick Bailey (Earl), Maiesha McQueen (Nurse Norma), Kimberly Tobin (Lulu), Kyra Kennedy (Francine Pomatter), Grace Stockdale (Mother), Jim Hogan (Father)
Notes:
Emily's third show as Dawn.
https://mega.nz/folder/r0Vl3TTL#pBQPDf9g5QGc3AXu_W6efQ
Waitress - Second US National Tour
March 29, 2022 - madeapactwithsatan
Cast:
Jisel Soleil Ayon (Jenna), Dominique Kent (Becky), Gabriella Marzetta (Dawn), David Socolar (Dr. Pomatter), Brian Lundy (Ogie), Andrew Burton Kelley (u/s Cal), Shawn W. Smith (Earl), Michael R. Douglass (Joe), Dayna Marie Quincy (Nurse Norma), Stephanie Feeback (Francine Pomatter), Olivia London (Mother), Woody White (Father), Elvie Ellis (Ensemble), Jake McCready (Ensemble), Zoë Brooke Reed (Ensemble)
https://mega.nz/folder/GpEwSJTC#giJ1UwBntSOxlshQ-DeOlg
Frozen
March 29, 2024
First US National Tour
madeapactwithsatan’s master
Caroline Bowman (Elsa), Lauren Nicole Chapman (Anna), Jeremy Davis (Olaf), Dominic Dorset (Kristoff), Preston Perez (Hans), Dan Plehal (Sven), Evan Duff (Weselton), Savannah Lumar (Young Elsa), Emma Origenes (Young Anna), Katie Mariko Murray (Queen Iduna), Kyle Lamar Mitchell (King Agnarr), Tyler Jimenez (Pabbie), Renée Reid (Bulda), Jack Brewer (Oaken)
Notes: It’s frozen so obviously there are a couple of kids talking, but otherwise not too much disruption. Includes BC/EFA speech. Gift upon request, but do not put on any form of social media.
https://mega.nz/folder/2hdRALbY#EuDCQU-2J5TCmVsxUg9yKQ
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homomenhommes · 1 month
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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY
based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … March 20
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1891 – On this date the British singer, screenwriter, composer, actor and director Edmund Goulding was born (d.1959). Goulding is best remembered for directing cultured dramas and such as Grand Hotel (1932) with Greta Garbo and Joan Crawford, Dark Victory (1939) with Bette Davis, and The Razor's Edge (1946) with Gene Tierney and Tyrone Power. He also directed the classic film noir Nightmare Alley (1947) with Tyrone Power and Joan Blondell, and the action drama The Dawn Patrol. He was also a successful songwriter, composer, and producer.
There is a paradox to Goulding. His sensitivity to women's emotions brought him enduring success, as witnessed by his swooning melodramas, but his private life reflects a lack of sensitivity. Goulding was bisexual, with a decided taste for promiscuity and voyeurism. His sex parties and casting couch were notorious.
A 2004 biography of Goulding, Edmund Goulding's Dark Victory by Matthew Kennedy says that it was widely known in Hollywood that Goulding was bisexual, and hosted wild parties for all persuasions.
But he cannot be dismissed simply as a sex addict or sexual exploiter. For every excoriation of his morals, there are accounts of his loyalty to friends, generosity to family, gentlemanly manner on the set, and preternatural ability to bring out the best in his actors.
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1905 – Delaware eliminates the pillory as a punishment for crime. Since 1852, those convicted of sodomy have been required to stand in the pillory for one hour prior to imprisonment.
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1908 – Sir Michael Redgrave, English actor and director (d.1985). Father to the Redgrave acting dynasty, Redgrave was married to the actress Rachel Kempson for 50 years from 1935 until his death. Their children Vanessa (b. 1937), Corin (1939-2010) and Lynn Redgrave (1943-2010) and their grandchildren - Natasha (1963-2009), Joely Richardson (b. 1965) and Jemma are also involved in theatre or film as actors. His grandson Carlo Gabriel Nero is a screenwriter and film director
During the filming of Fritz Lang's Secret Beyond the Door... (1948), Redgrave met Bob Michell and they became lovers, Michell set up house close to the Redgraves, and he became a surrogate "uncle" to Redgrave's children (then aged 11, 9 and 5), who adored him. Michell later had children of his own, including a son he named Michael.
The 1996 BBC documentary film Michael Redgrave: My Father, narrated by his son Corin Redgrave, and based on his book of the same name, discusses Michael's bisexuality in some depth. Rachel Kempson recounts that, when she proposed to him, Redgrave said that there were "difficulties to do with his nature, and that he felt he ought not to marry". She said that she understood, it didn't matter and that she loved him. To this, Redgrave replied "Very well. If you're sure, we will".
During one of Corin's visits to Michael, the latter said "There is something I ought to tell you". Then, after a very long pause, "I am, to say the least of it, bisexual".
Corin helped his father in the writing of his last autobiography, and encouraged him to acknowledge his bisexuality in the book. Michael agreed to do so, but in the end he chose to remain silent about it.
A card was found among Redgrave's effects after his death. The card was signed "Tommy, Liverpool, January 1940", and on it were the words (quoted from W.H. Auden): "The world is love. Surely one fearless kiss would cure the million fevers".
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1947 – John Boswell, American historian (d.1994); A prominent historian and professor at Yale University, many of Boswell's studies focused on the issue of homosexuality and religion, specifically homosexuality and Christianity. Boswell was the author of the ground-breaking and controversial book Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality (1980), which, according to Chauncey et al (1989),
"offered a revolutionary interpretation of the Western tradition, arguing that the Roman Catholic Church had not condemned gay people throughout its history, but rather, at least until the twelfth century, had alternately evinced no special concern about homosexuality or actually celebrated love between men."
He is known primarily, however, as author of The Marriage of Likeness: Same- Sex Unions in Pre-Modern Europe (New York: Villard, 1994), in which he argues that the adelphopoiia liturgy was evidence that attitude of the Christian church towards homosexuality has actually changed over time, and that early Christians did on occasion accept same-sex relationships.
Rites of so-called "same-sex union" (Boswell's proposed translation) occur in ancient prayer-books of both the western and eastern churches. The rites of adelphopoiesis is Greek for "the making of brothers." Boswell, despite the fact that the rites explicitly state that the union involved in adelphopoiesis is a "spiritual" and not a "carnal" one, argued that these should be regarded as sexual unions similar to marriage.
This is a highly controversial point of Boswell's text, as other scholars have dissenting views of this interpretation, and believe that they were instead rites of becoming adopted brothers, or "blood brothers".
Boswell pointed out such evidence as an icon of two saints, Saints Sergius and Bacchus (at St. Catherine's on Mount Sinai), and drawings, such as one he interprets as depicting the wedding feast of Emperor Basil to his "partner", John. Boswell sees Jesus as fulfilling the role of the "pronubus" or in modern parallel, best man. Boswell made many detailed translations of these rites in Same-Sex Unions, and claimed that one mass same-sex wedding occurred only a couple of centuries ago in the Basilica of St. John Lateran, the cathedral seat of the Pope as Bishop of Rome.
Boswell died of complications from HIV-AIDS on December 24, 1994, at age 47.
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1957 – The Illinois Supreme Court upholds the sodomy conviction of an optometrist with a male patient after very conflicting witness testimony. Did the witnesses need glasses?
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1971 – Murray Bartlett is an Australian actor. His roles include Dominic "Dom" Basaluzzo in the HBO comedy-drama series Looking, Michael "Mouse" Tolliver in the Netflix revival of Tales of the City, and Armond in the HBO satire comedy series The White Lotus. He is set to star in the upcoming television series adaptation of The Last of Us.
Bartlett was born in Sydney, Australia. At age four, his family moved to Perth, where he was raised.
Bartlett pursued an acting career in Australia for several years, including a role in the series headLand. In 1993, he played con man Luke Foster in Neighbours.
In 2000, Bartlett relocated to the United States. His first big break there came a few years later, when he was cast as a guest star in the HBO series Sex and the City. He also played D.K., John Crichton's best friend, in four episodes of the SciFi Channel series Farscape. In 2006, Bartlett toured with Hugh Jackman in the Australian touring company production of Jackman's Broadway hit The Boy From Oz.From March 2007 until the show's cancellation in September 2009, Bartlett was a cast member on the CBS daytime soap opera Guiding Light, where he played Cyrus Foley. He starred as Dominic "Dom" Basaluzzo in the HBO comedy-drama series Looking from 2014 to 2015, and then reprised his role in the series finale television film, Looking: The Movie in 2016. In 2017, he portrayed a recurring role in the musical drama series Nashville. Bartlett assumed the central role of Michael 'Mouse' Tolliver in the Netflix revival of Tales of the City.
In 2021, Bartlett starred in The White Lotus as Armond, the luxury resort manager and a recovering drug addict who has been "clean" for 5 years. Bartlett got the role through a self tape audition. For his portrayal, Bartlett received Screen Actors Guild, Critics' Choice, Independent Spirit and Australian Academy of Cinema and Television Arts nominations.
Bartlett came out as gay early in his career, saying, "I didn’t feel like I really had an alternative; I just never felt I could ever be anything but myself."
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1976 – Alexander Chapman is a Canadian actor. He is best known for his role as Lydie-Anne in Lilies, for which he garnered a Genie Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor at the 17th Genie Awards.
Chapman, who has also performed as a drag queen under the name Titty Galore, has also had supporting roles in Space Cases, Welcome to Africville, Fig Trees, After Alice, Jesus of Montreal, Queer as Folk, Sugar, The Kids in the Hall, Tru Love and Murder in Passing, often but not always playing a drag queen or a transgender woman.
He has also performed extensively in stage roles, including in Canadian Stage's production of Angels in America.
Quebec-bred, Dawson College-trained, Toronto-based Chapman is best known for his Genie-nominated role in John Greyson’s Lilies (1996). As the lustful and lucid French aristocrat Lydie-Anne, the African-Canadian Chapman was cast against type but burned up the screen in his liaison with St-Sebastian wannabe Simon. Dana Inkster cast next him in a more subdued role as her community-building gay bartender in her short Welcome to Africville (1999). Also known by his nom de drag Titty Galore, Chapman was brought back by Greyson for a supporting role as South African activist Simon Nkoli in his Fig Trees (2003).
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1989 – Xavier Dolan, born in Montreal, Quebec, sometimes credited as Xavier Dolan-Tadros, is a Québécois actor and filmmaker, the son of a teacher, Geneviève Dolan, and Quebec actor Manuel Tadros. Formerly a child actor in films such as J'en suis!, Le Marchand de sable and La Forteresse suspendue and television series such as Omertà, la loi du silence, Dolan attracted international attention when his first film as a director and screenwriter, J'ai tué ma mère (I Killed My Mother), won three awards from the Director's Fortnight program at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival.
J'ai tué ma mère has been sold to more than 20 countries.
After J'ai tué ma mère he directed his second feature film Les Amours Imaginaires (Heartbeats), which was financed privately. It follows the infatuation of two friends with the same mysterious young man. Inevitably, their friendship suffers. It premiered in the Un Certain Regard category at the 63e Festival de Cannes in May 2010, to a standing ovation, and won the top prize of the Official Competition at the Sydney Film Festival in June.
His third film, Laurence Anyways, about a transsexual, was selected to compete in the Un Certain Regard section at the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. Suzanne Clément's performance in the film won the section's award for Best Actress. The film received praise from critics but once again failed to find an audience.
His fourth film is an adaption of Michel Marc Bouchard's play Tom at the Farm (Tom à la ferme). It received its world premiere in the main competition section at the 70th Venice International Film Festival on 2 September 2013 and won the FIPRESCI award. Though Tom at the Farm played the festival circuits in 2013, it wasn't released in the United States until 2015.
Dolan's 2014 film, Mommy, shared the Jury Prize in the main competition section at the 2014 Cannes Film Festival with Jean-Luc Godard's film Goodbye to Language (Adieu au langage).
As of September 2009, the Québec-specific French-language dubbed version of the animated series South Park features Dolan as the voice of Stan. His voice work also included narrating the NFB's 2010 animated documentary Lipsett Diaries.
Dolan is gay, and has described J'ai tué ma mère, which he wrote, directed, and starred in, as being semi-autobiographical.
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2010 – On this date in Bulgaria's capital Sofia, a tiny group of LGBT activists attempting to protest a new law banning open displays of homosexuality were surrounded and intimidated by almost 100 skinheads. As several of skin heads attacked the Gay rights activists they were immediately knocked down to the ground and arrested by the policemen guarding the rally, who were led personally by the head of the Pazardzhik Police Directorate, Commissar Stoyan Stoyanov. No-one was hurt during the skirmish. However, the anti-rally protestors shouted offensive slogans directed against the Gay rights activists such as "No one wants you, losers", "Out of Pazardzhik", "Go to Uganda, freaks".
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