#theater queens in a row

[clarkgriffon]

absolutely devastating that rpdr uk 4 finally found a fashion queen with a personality and they sent her home forth

#like you crowned krystal last year!!!!!!! if you had just waited a season sminty would've been there to idk. have a personality #im not even that much of a sminty stan im just still bitter they crowned the wrong queen in uk3 because they didn't want too many comedy/ #theater queens in a row #rpdr uk 4 #rpdr

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction #yumichika ayasegawa #ikkaku madarame #kenpachi zaraki #yachiru kusajishi

[usergreenpixel]

Guys, I didn’t manage to endure watching that “Napoleon” thing. Lasted for about 45 minutes or so before my ears and head had enough of the blasting noises at the movie theater. To be honest, my head still hurts a bit.

And… so far I haven’t managed to understand SHIT of the plot and I can’t even describe the characters in terms of what they are about. So anyone with no prior knowledge of the context would be even more confused than I was.

Also… Robespierre looked like Danton for some reason… and gave a speech that is an amalgamation of all the Frev propaganda… but at least he didn’t accuse the queen of incest…

I really don’t understand the point of Frev scenes. Napoleon wasn’t there to witness the death of Marie Antoinette and I’m pretty sure he didn’t have a front row seat for Thermidor either, so I wish there wasn’t that much screen time related to the bullet points of Frev, so to speak.

And yeah, everyone has said it before me, but Napoleon is lacking expression to the point that Moai 🗿 would seem expressive compared to him!

Honestly, I highly doubt it gets better afterwards so yeah… don’t watch this shit. I will make a proper review, most likely, but I guess I will need to watch it on streaming sites for that. Oh well!

#frev #frev media #napoleonic media #napoleon film #napoleon 2023 #robespierrre #marie antoinette

[thehorizonlinex]

Close to the Wind

A series of snippets of Eric’s life, as seen by Grimsby

Author’s Note: My first-ever Tumblr fic (ah! please be nice!) so open to suggestions, requests, and feedback. I watched The Little Mermaid (2023) and fell in love with Jonah Hauer-King’s portrayal of Prince Eric, the layers of backstory added to his character, and of course, his stunning chemistry with Halle Bailey as Ariel!

This is my take on what Eric’s life might have been like - before and after he met Ariel. I loved Grimsby as a character, especially his relationship with Eric, so there are some ideas of what it might have been like for the two of them together during Eric’s childhood. I’ve only seen the movie once in theaters, so some of the quotes are loosely based on my memory and might not be 100% in accordance with the script. Thanks for reading, and if you like it, please feel free to comment or reblog :)

Warnings: Mentions of parental death, fluff, young Eric being a little shit

Tags: @ohkarasm​ @nimerdo​ @namufication​ @chey-cheygl​ @snk25blr​ @snk25blr​

Twenty-One Years Prior

Grimsby tried his best to make his way through the crowd, pushing past the careening necks and excited whispers.

A baby!

One of the ships found him next to a whole lot of debris.

Bundled up in a chest, just floatin’ on the water, I heard. 

Could it be an omen?

How’d he get there in the first place?

What about that shipwreck the other night?

He finally squeezed past the first row, members of the royal court who’d arrived at the palace to see the infant child creating a buzz throughout the islands. The guards had been able to create a wide space between the royals and the court, allowing Grimsby to finally catch his breath as he approached the thrones at the front of the room.

“Sir Grimsby! There you are.”

“Your Highness,” Grimsby bowed to the king, both his sovereign and his employer - and an old friend. He turned to the regal woman on his right, dressed in a pale blue gown and seated in an intricate golden throne. “My Queen.”

Both nodded in response. The king gestured to the infant rocking in the queen’s arms, cooing lightly as he stared up at her.

“The baby,” the king said, his voice resolute. “Will stay here.”

He was afraid that this might happen.

The child had been found a few nights prior, swaddled in a chest that floated nearly right up to one of their merchant ships. At first, the sailors onboard had assumed he was dead - his eyes were closed and there was no way a baby could have survived the storms that had wrecked the oceans for nearly a week.

And yet, he had survived, immediately rushed to the royal palace and brought to the infirmary, where he was given round-the-clock care.

It’s a miracle he survived, the doctors had said, just as alarmed as everyone else who’d gotten wind of the curious baby from the sea. Survived without a scratch.

“Are you sure you want to decide so soon, your majesty? Perhaps the baby belongs to some of the neighboring islands, or from the coast.”

The royal couple had struggled with having children - one had been lost in the womb early on, and there hadn’t been much luck since. But he couldn’t imagine this child - this washed-up orphan of a child - becoming the heir to the throne. 

Would the people even accept him?

“We’ve looked, and we’ve asked the other lands. No one seems to know where the child is from.”

The king quieted for a second.

“And the ship that wrecked the other day - there were no survivors. We’ve sent crews to search high and low, and nothing.”

“A tragedy for certain,” the queen murmured, lightly stroking the top of the baby’s head, fingers playing with his dark curls. “But we can help turn his life into something meaningful.”

Grimsby nodded again with a sigh. He knew exactly how much both of them yearned for a child, a son, and perhaps chance was finally on their side.

He just didn’t care for children, personally.

“Have you picked out a name?”

The queen smiled widely at the infant, causing the child to giggle, his eyes twinkling in the palace light, as blue as the waves that had saved his life.

“Eric.”

~~~~~~~~~

Twelve Years Later - Eric, Age 12

“Eric!”

“Eric!”

“Prince Eric!”

Grimsby leaned to his side, his hand pressing against his ribcage as he slowed his breathing. 

He was growing too old for this, the continuous chasing around the palace, running after a twelve-year-old boy who seemed to be getting taller and faster and more of a nuisance each day.

Grimsby couldn’t imagine himself behaving this way at that age - even when he was younger than ten, he’d known to not cause such a ruckus. And he hadn’t been into royalty, didn’t have the expectations of a future king on his shoulders.

Eric, on the other hand, never seemed to get the memo.

“Are you alright, Sir Grimsby?”

Grimsby looked down at the boy as he skipped over to him. Eric’s height rose to his chest now, mischievous eyes peeking past a messy mop of brown curls.

“There isn’t supposed to be running in the palace, Eric.”

“Who said anything about running? We’re chasing!”

Grimsby huffed, the ache in his side still lingering. “You’re old enough to know they’re the same. I know you have access to a thesaurus.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be running if you just stopped chasing me.”

Eric squinted as he watched his majordomo leaning over to his side in pain. “And, if that side hurts, you should bend the other way so it stretches.”

Grimsby huffed again as he followed Eric’s instructions, immediately feeling relief in his side. Once the ache subsided, he straightened back up, his hands crossing over his chest.

“I was chasing you because you’ve left your study a mess, Eric.”

The boy lifted a hand to scratch his head, crooking it to one side.

“A mess?”

“A mess. Things everywhere! Books all over the place, seashells from the beach strewn all over your shelves. And that globe - did you steal that from your father’s study?”

The prince snickered.

“I didn’t steal it Grimsby. Mother said I could have the globe to help with my studies. And all of father’s old charts.”

He flashed his dimples once, causing Grimsby to mentally groan. The boy had grown into a cheeky young thing, as charming as he was reckless, his charisma as abundant as his energy.

“What studies could you possibly need them for?”

“I’m teaching myself,” Eric said confidently. “I’m teaching myself how to sail. Even if mother won’t let me yet. So by the time I do go on the water, I can navigate just using the stars.”

He placed his hands on his hips in a defiant stance.

“And I’m collecting the seashells. I’ve been reading about them in some of the old books from the royal library. Some of them aren’t native to here, you know. The ocean carries them to us for us to find.”

“I’m glad you’re finding your artifacts so educational, Eric,” Grimsby sighed. “But if you leave your study a mess, Lashanna won’t allow it. You know better than to keep them around like that.”

The prince’s eyes, normally a crystal blue, began to darken.

“I’m not throwing them away!”

“You don’t have to throw them away. But you do need to keep them organized.”

Eric rolled his eyes again. 

“Says who?”

“Says me. And until you grow old enough to be king, you’ll listen to me.”

Eric let out a huff of frustration. 

“When I’m king, Grimsby, I’ll see to it that you get fired.”

The man laughed aloud. “I’ve been with your family for decades, my young prince. You won’t be getting rid of me that fast.”

“I can do whatever I want! Eric means eternal ruler, you told me yourself, Grimsby.”

Grimsby shook his head, turning on his heels to head back towards the palace. Better to stop the conversation now before Eric’s temperament got the better of him, he hoped.

He turned once more to look at the boy, the childish expression on his face contrasting his ever-growing stature. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if the king and queen had made the right decision, bringing this boy into the fold, setting him to be the future ruler of their islands. 

Eric was intelligent, compassionate, curious - but reckless, uncontrollable at times, with a mind of his own.

And Grimsby couldn’t help but pray that eventually, he’d grow up.

Six Years Later -  Eric, Age 18

“Well, doesn’t the prince look dashing!”

Grimsby turned to face Lashanna, who’d crept up behind him to watch as Eric stood deathly still at the other end of the room. The prince grimaced as the royal tailors fussed over his new jacket, using him as a human pin cushion of sorts.

“Looks just like his parents,” Grimsby joked, causing the woman to swat at his shoulder.

“Big night for the prince, eh?”

“You wouldn’t think so, talking to him.”

“Hmm?”

Grimsby sighed, placing his hand on the pillar next to him. 

“All he can talk about is going out to sea, tomorrow morning. You wouldn’t even know it was his eighteenth birthday today, if the queen hadn’t made a rule forbidding him from sailing until then.”

“What about the party?”

“What about the party?”

Lashanna frowned. “Don’t tell me I have the staff running around for Eric to not show up to his own birthday party tonight.”

“He’ll show up. The queen will make sure of it. He just won’t be happy with all the fuss, you know he never is.”

Lashanna remained quiet briefly, watching as Eric’s gaze focused out the large glass window to his right, looking over the ocean waves.

“Do you think she regrets it at all?”

It’d been a question Grimsby had wondered himself, many times, and even more so after the king’s sudden passing the year prior. The baby in the chest had become a source of joy for the queen and for the people of the islands. He’d grown into a strong, bright young man, grounded by his values and the desire to lead his people.

And yet, it seemed as if Eric never saw his role the same as his mother, rigidly determined to do things differently. He’d grown even more passionate about voyaging and opening the country to faraway neighbors since his father died, frustrated at the lack of support his ideas received from his mother and the court. He’d vented at Grimsby more than a handful of times, but usually locked himself in his study, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of treasures and tokens other sailors brought back for him.

It’d been manageable, for a while. But now he was eighteen, allowed to voyage the seas himself for the first time, and taking matters into his own hands.

“She loves him,” Grimsby replied. “And that’s what matters.”

He straightened as the tailors finished up with Eric, taking his jacket to have the final touches added before the night’s festivities. 

“Well, aren’t you going to be a sight tonight,” Lashanna smiled at the prince, reaching out to brush a stray curl from his forehead.

“Do you know what time we leave tomorrow, Grimsby?”

“Nine o’clock, Sire.”

“Any chance we could leave earlier? I’d love to see the sunrise on the water.”

Lashanna chuckled. “You’ll see plenty of sunrises over the next few weeks, young prince. And you’ll want to get some rest after your big party tonight.”

“There will be girls there, Eric,” Grimsby reminded him.

“So?”

“You’ll be expected to make conversation with them, dance with them.”

Eric scoffed.

“To find a wife, you mean?”

“Well, if all-“

“Wouldn’t my father say I’m too young to be finding a bride?”

Grimsby let out a deep sigh. “Your father wouldn’t want you to be reckless. But you are his heir, and you’re eighteen now. In a few years you will be old enough to assume the throne per our kingdom’s laws.”

“I’m not interested in finding a wife, Grimsby. Not when there’s so much out there to see. Did you know, one of the other islands just opened a large port? Large enough to completely change their economy. We’re being left behind here, and the rest of the world is moving on.”

“Eric-“

“And besides, don’t you think it wouldn’t be fair to my future wife if I was out on the seas all the time? A shoddy husband I’d make, I figure.”

As if he’d be allowed to voyage as the king. 

“Just dance with a few, Eric. They might surprise you, there’s plenty of ladies from different kingdoms coming. Consider that your bridging between cultures and lands.”

The idea seemed to please the young man somewhat, though his face showed no hint of a smile.

“If you dance with five of the young ladies tonight, I’m sure Grimsby could convince the queen to allow you to sail before sunrise,” Lashanna offered, causing Grimsby to shoot her an annoyed glance.

“Really?” Eric’s eyes lit up again.

Grimsby shook his head. It might be the only way.

“Alright, Eric. I’ll talk to your mother.”

The bounce in the prince’s step returned as he hurried towards the passageway. 

“I’ll get to packing now. Thank you, Grimsby!”

Grimsby turned to Lashanna once Eric was out of sight.

“You needed a compromise, no?” she smiled. “And besides, you’ll need to start getting ready yourself.”

“I’ve still got a few hours before the party.”

Lashanna’ grin grew wider. 

“I meant for your voyage tomorrow. Enjoy the sunrise, Mister Grimsby.”

~~~~~~~~~

Three Years Later - Eric, 21 Years Old 

“Eric! Eric!”

Grimsby ignored the ache in his legs as he ran through the palace halls, headed directly to the wing containing the prince’s bedroom.

The news had arrived while he was helping the queen’s secretary draft a letter to the neighboring kingdoms, desperate for any news or sign of her beloved son. 

Found him washed up ashore! 

Barely breathing!

But he’s alive! 

Grimsby could hardly believe it himself; that Eric’s life would have once again been spared by the sea, fortunate enough to arrive right on their doorstep. He could have sworn, watching the flames engulf the ship that night and Eric falling backwards as it listed in the water, that the prince was lost to the waves. 

It’d been the first time Grimsby had nearly cried, the presence of the rest of the crew in the rowboats the only thing stopping his tears.

Their last interaction had been an argument, another fight about Eric’s role as a leader, his incessant need to voyage and travel and explore for the sake of the islands. Their conversation had rung in Grimsby’s ears all night, the man unable to get any sleep once they safely reached shore.

“Eric!” He burst open the door to the prince’s bedroom, causing Max, seated at the foot of the bed, to bark loudly.

“Shhh, Max,” Eric muttered with a groan, his eyes looking at Grimsby tiredly. “It’s just Grims.”

“Thank the heavens,” Grimsby rushed over to his side, clutching one of Eric’s hands in his own. “I thought you were lost-”

“A girl saved me.”

Grimsby raised a brow, his eyes moving to the bandaged wound on Eric’s head.

“Pardon?”

“A girl, Grimsby,” Eric repeated slowly, his voice betraying his body’s exhaustion. His eyes fluttered open and close. “She saved me.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Grimsby said. “You should get some sleep.”

Surely the doctors would have informed him if Eric had sustained any major head injuries, not just a scratch?

“She sang to me, Grimsby. The most beautiful melody I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m sure she did, Sire.”

Eric’s eyes opened suddenly, the piercing blue gaze making direct contact with Grimsby’s own. 

“Find her for me, Grimsby.”

“Eric-“

“Please. She saved my life. I owe her my life.”

Eric closed his eyes once more, his tiredness quickly lulling him back to sleep.

A mystery girl who’d saved the prince from certain death in the ocean? How hard could it be?

He closed the bedroom door behind him as he walked towards in the direction of the infirmary. 

The doctors had some explaining to do.

~~~~~~~~~

“We could take a carriage tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Grimsby stopped as he heard the familiar voice coming out of the prince’s study, warm lantern light peeking out of a door left just ajar.

He was surprised to see the two of them in the light, diligently peering over maps and charts across Eric’s belongings. He’d hardly expected Eric to even get to know the new arrival at the palace, the girl who’d been found in the waves just as he had.

Perhaps that connected them, in a way.

But he’d distinctly recognized the disappointment in Eric’s face once the prince realized she wasn’t the mystery girl, the one who’d saved her and sang to him on the beach. How could she be, when she had no voice of her own?

Grimsby coughed quietly, causing the two of them to look up at him. Eric’s face was beaming, a look he hadn’t seen in the young prince since the night of the shipwreck, dancing with the crew.

“Oh, Grimsby! We’ll need a carriage for tomorrow.”

Grimsby nodded politely, hoping not to cause any distress to the red-haired girl staring wide-eyed at him.

“Of course, Sire. If I might have a quiet word?””

Eric looked back at the girl with a smile, nodding slowly as if in a daze. “Yes, of course.”

When they were out in the hall and out of earshot, Grimsby decided to broach the subject. Part of him wanted to not bring it up at all - the fantasy girl they were spending all of their resources chasing, and yet, Eric had been insistent. He still remembered the desperation in the prince’s eyes, begging him to find her.

“Sire, all of the carriages are being used tomorrow to look for the girl.”

A wave of realization seemed to pass through the prince, as if he’d been woken from a dream. “Oh, yes! The girl. Yes, we need to find her.”

“And may I remind you,” Grimsby continued. “That the queen insists that you stay inside at the palace until you’re feeling better.”

“I feel fine, Grimsby!” Eric grinned, his familiar dimples flashes. “I’ve never felt better.”

Grimsby looked at the prince carefully. In the study, he could have sworn the young man’s face had been glowing in the light, the golden hues reflecting off his skin. And yet, he was still beaming in the hall, a joyous grin he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to. 

Perhaps the silent girl was the distraction he needed, someone to make him happy for at least a little while.

“Yes, yes, I can see that,” Grimsby acknowledged, scanning Eric’s blue eyes once again. They were as blue as the waves.

“Well, I’m sure we could spare just one carriage. But you do need to go to sleep, Eric. The doctors said you still need plenty of rest.”

“I know. I got distracted all day in there.” He smiled. “She likes looking at my collections.”

“Hmm?”

“The girl,” Eric gestured back towards the study. “I’ll tell her she can stay in and keep looking, if she wants.”

“Ah, yes. Well, if you trust her with it all.”

Eric quickly slipped back to say goodnight to the red-haired girl, and as he’d assumed, she decided to stay back. He climbed up the stairs in the direction of his bedroom with Grimsby, the man’s arms clasped behind his back. 

“I trust her,” the prince said, a sheepish grin on his face. “It’s funny, really. You know that fossilized sea stone that’s been on my shelves since I was eighteen? From my first voyage?”

“Ah, yes.” Grimsby distinctly remembered Eric’s accomplished expression on that first voyage, as he traded some of their island cane for a few treasured items at the market.

“She threw it onto the ground,” Eric explained, chuckling to himself. “And it shattered all over the floor, but there was a beautiful gemstone inside, this vibrant rock that had been hidden for years. I’d never known it even existed.”

“I wonder where she must have learned to do that,” Grimsby commented.

“Me too. It’s not in any of my books. She’s strange, isn’t she? But in the best way.”

Grimsby kept watching the prince as they walked through the passageways, the young man seemingly lost in thought.

They stopped outside his bedroom door, Eric ruffling through his locks with his fingers. 

“Goodnight, Grimsby.”

“Goodnight, Eric. I promise we’ll continue to search for the girl in the morning.”

Eric frowned slightly as he made sense of the words.

“Right. The girl. Yes, thank you, Grimsby. Let me know what you find.”

“Of course, Sire.”

~~~~~~~~~

In any other time, Grimsby likely would have made a fuss over the mess that Eric had made in the main passageways of the palace, lake water dripping from his clothes onto the floor.

The queen had nearly slipped in a small puddle, and again, in any other time, Grimsby would have said something.

But he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as he saw the two pairs of soaking-wet feet hiding behind a wall, so by the time he finally approached Eric and the silent girl, any thought of scolding the prince had long vanished.

“We went out onto the lake, and well, we ended up in it,” Eric chuckled sheepishly at him, as if that somehow served as an excuse.

“Well, it seems you two had fun,” Grimsby remarked, the gleam in Eric’s eyes not going unnoticed. “I imagine you’re tired, and we should let you get some sleep.”

The red-haired girl smiled gratefully at both of them, a dazzling grin on her face that Eric seemed to melt into.

“Yes, goodnight,” the prince said, as the girl smiled again before ascending the stairs.

Suddenly, she turned, taking the hat off her head - where had they even gotten such an item? - and placing it gently atop Eric’s. She flashed another grin at the prince again before walking up.

“Goodnight…Ariel.”

She turned again once more, her smile reflected in her warm brown eyes. Grimsby watched as Eric’s gaze followed her up the staircase until she disappeared from sight.

“Sire,” Grimsby said, finally breaking the silence. “About the carriages…unfortunately, they weren’t able to find the girl.”

Eric stayed silent for a moment, though Grimsby could see his shoulders tense slightly. “Oh.”

“Should we resume the search?”

Eric turned to face Grimsby, a mix of emotions on his face. The man had known the prince since he was a baby - he knew exactly what Eric was feeling, even if the young man couldn’t verbalize it.

“Grimsby…I feel...a little…”

“If I may, Sire, from one old man. Don’t let what should be get in the way of what is.”

Eric nodded. 

“Goodnight, Sire.”

“Goodnight, Grimsby.”

He turned towards the passageway, hoping to find Lashanna to help take care of the mess in the halls before the queen woke up in the morning.

“Wait, Grimsby!”

“Yes, Sire?”

“Her name…her name is Ariel.”

Grimsby nodded. He’d gathered as such, though he couldn’t imagine how young Eric had figured that particular one out.

“And how did you come across that, Sire?”

Eric laughed to himself, his hand touching the top of his hat as if it contained a cherished memory.

“It’s a long story. I’ll have to tell you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Eric.”

“Goodnight, Grimsby. And thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Grimsby! Grimsby!”

Eric rushed over, a frantic look in his eyes inconsistent with the celebratory atmosphere they were surrounded by.

Grimsby glanced over at Vanessa, the mystery girl, the woman in purple who’d arrived at the palace on Eric’s arm early that morning. She was busy entertaining members of the court, waxing poetic about what it was like to save the prince from drowning, a story that seemed more like fantasy with each passing minute, or so he believed.

“Grimsby, have you seen Ariel?”

He furrowed his brow, looking back at the prince. It was like Eric had completely reversed overnight, the feelings he felt for Ariel replaced by an enchanting trance for the newly-found mystery girl. 

It didn’t sit right with Grimsby. Something had felt off all day, even if the queen and the rest of the court thought nothing of it.

Of course, Eric had desperately wanted to find the girl for days, pleading with Grimsby to find her - and yet, he had assumed, perhaps foolishly, to think the mystery girl was no more than a passing thought, now. He had sensed something in the air between Eric and Ariel the night before, something stronger than the mystery girl, now gone like the tide.

And as far as he was concerned, there didn’t seem to be a true connection between Eric and Vanessa. 

He couldn’t explain it.

“According to the servants, she left this morning.”

“Left?”

“Can you blame her, Eric?” Grimsby finally said, exasperated. “I don’t understand, this isn’t like you.”

“I…I know,” Eric muttered. “I’m not sure I understand myself.”

“I don’t think it would be fair for Ariel to stay, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Eric said, his voice sounding deflated. Grimsby noticed a glassy haze in his eyes, as if sleepwalking or under a spell. “Yes, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions, Eric. And to learn to accept the consequences.”

“Yes. Yes, yes, you’re right, Grimsby.”

“Eric!” 

The two of them turned to see the queen gesturing towards her son.

“Go,” Grimsby said, his heart sinking slightly in his chest. He knew what the queen would be giving him - he’d had one of the palace servants polish it earlier that day at her request.

But it was Eric’s decision now.

“Grims-”

“Go, Eric.”

~~~~~~~~~

The walk back to the palace was eerily silent, the crashing waves the only sounds filling the air.

Grimsby glanced over at the prince, dripping from head-to-toe, his clothing torn to shreds and clinging to his wet skin. The queen and the rest of the staff were several feet ahead of them, the two men bringing up the rear back to land.

Back to safety.

“Eric-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Grimsby.”

“She was real, Eric.”

The prince stayed silent for a few seconds before stopping mid-step. He lowered himself to the ground, balancing himself against a large rock as Grimsby took a seat next to him.

Eric’s gaze stayed focused on the horizon, watching the colors of the sunset reflect off the ocean intently, as if Ariel might reappear if he looked hard enough.

“I’ve been a fool, Grimsby.”

“No, no. What you felt for her was very real, your mother was right about that. You would be a fool to deny the connection you felt between you two.”

Eric sighed, taking a small pebble from next to him and throwing it into the ocean.

“She really saw me, Grimsby. Like no one ever has. Not to mention that she’d been the one to save my life in the first place.”

“I understand.”

His heart ached for the prince - just as the oceans had spared his life, they’d also torn Ariel away from him, their two homes at odds with each other forever. Eric had always been stubborn - but now, he seemed completely deflated.

“I loved her, Grimsby,” Eric murmured under his breath. “I do love her.”

He stared out into the ocean one more time, before standing back up, reaching a hand out to help Grimsby onto his feet.

Grimsby noticed the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall.

“And now she’s gone.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Eric! Eric!”

Grimsby clutched his side, a cramp near his ribcage causing him to wince.

Certainly, he was getting too old for this.

“Grimsby!” He heard Eric’s familiar laugh as the prince opened his bedroom door, allowing him to enter.

Eric was already dressed for the big day, his curls neat and clothes pressed. “You’re going to kill yourself one day, old man, chasing after me.”

“I’ve done it for twenty-one years already, Sire, I’m sure I’ll last at least a few more.”

“Did you need something? The wedding’s supposed to begin in less than an hour.”

Grimsby nodded, reaching into the hidden pocket of his jacket as he took out a compass, slightly worn from age, though the mother-of-pearl and gold fixtures still shone brilliantly in the light.

He straightened up as he placed the compass in Eric’s hands, the prince’s blue eyes looking curiously at him.

“This,” he said. “This was your father’s. Many years ago. I thought it would serve useful on your voyage with Ariel.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything larger, but I imagined you two have already been showered enough by the court.”

“Grimsby, it’s perfect,” Eric’s eyes shone brilliantly. “Than-”

“Oh, no need to thank me,” he replied quickly, hoping to clear his throat of anything too sentimental. “It was your father’s, after all-”

His breath was knocked out of him as Eric pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Grimsby.”

“Sire-” the corners of his eyes began to prick.

“For leading me to Ariel.” 

“I-”

“And for believing in me.”

Grimsby patted the prince’s back as the tears in his eyes finally spilled over.

The boy - the child on the waves - had finally grown up, into a man that Grimsby couldn’t have even pictured. He imagined he had Ariel to thank for that, the silent red-headed girl who’d shone a brilliant light into the prince’s life, helped secure his destiny, allowed him to find his place in the world.

“Always, Eric.”

#the little mermaid #the little mermaid 2023 #prince eric #Prince Eric x Ariel #Eric x Ariel #Ariel x Eric #jonah hauer king #grimsby

[venus-haze]

Bad Ritual (Vincent Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: Some pageant queens sit on parade floats. Being crowned Miss Ambrose requires you to get your hands a little dirty.  [This is an AU]

Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. Heavily inspired by The Wicker Man and Midnight Mass, as well as my own spin on St. Ambrose, who, among other things, is the patron saint of wax melters. Since this is a cult AU, please check the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Emotional and spiritual manipulation, morally gray reader, religious sex negativity/sex shaming, elements of Catholicism, human sacrifice. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The stage lights threatened to melt your carefully applied makeup off. You held a wide smile for so long your cheeks ached. Your eyes nervously flitted about the crowd of Ambrose’s residents, just barely able to fill three-quarters of the movie theater for the event. When your gaze fell on Vincent in the front row, he gave you a small nod of encouragement that manifested butterflies in your already twisted stomach. Could you help being hopelessly in love with your best friend?

“After much deliberation by myself and the other judges,” Trudy began in her soft drawl, harsh on the edges from her decades-long smoking habit, “we agree without a doubt, the winner of the third Miss Ambrose contest is—“

The microphone screeched when Trudy spoke your name, and the dam broke, bringing about uncontrollable tears of joy and relief. The sound of cheers and applause filled the theater, almost dictating the rhythm of your heartbeat. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if you lost. In the weeks prior to the competition, you craved victory so badly that it filled the marrow of your bones.

With tears blurring your vision, you made your way over to Trudy. She smiled, placing the ornate wax tiara on your head and satin sash reading ‘Miss Ambrose’ in glittering crimson lettering over your shoulder. She wrapped her arms around you in an unexpected hug.

“Congratulations,” she whispered. “You deserve it.”

Hardly able to utter your thanks, you attempted to compose yourself while she addressed the crowd again.

“I believe we can all agree that this young woman here exemplifies the qualities this community holds dear,” she said, her gaze shifting to you with pride evident in her features, leaving you overwhelmed at the praise of your community’s leader. “If you’d like to share a few words, honey, now’s your chance.”

You nodded, trembling as you stood in front of the microphone. “First, I wanna thank the judges, Ms. Trudy, Father Julian, and Ms. Louann for giving me such a great honor. I also wanna thank my parents for believing in me as much as they believe in this town. Most of all, I wanna say that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than Ambrose, and I just—“ the tears began to flow again, and you managed to get a hold of yourself long enough to add, “I’m so grateful to St. Ambrose for everything he’s done for us. I don’t feel worthy to represent him on his feast day, but I’ll do my best. Thank you.”

Taking a step back from the microphone, you smiled as Louann handed you a bouquet of flowers. Louann was the previous Miss Ambrose and as such had the privilege of serving on the judge’s panel to decide who her successor would be. You were sure she would’ve preferred her own daughter, but she wasn’t interested in competing, an oddly reclusive girl around your age you’d long since given up befriending. Since there were so few people in Ambrose, the pool of young women eligible for the coveted crown was small, and therefore the competition could only be held once every seven or so years. Besides the feast day of your town’s namesake patron saint, the Miss Ambrose competition was one of the most highly anticipated events around.

Being Miss Ambrose was a commitment, but one you’d taken on with pride. Besides helping lead the usual procession through town, you’d serve as an ambassador to the hundreds of tourists who flooded your small town to view the spectacle. Most importantly, you’d finally be allowed to attend the celebratory mass held the night of the Feast of St. Ambrose. You weren’t sure what exactly the criteria for attendance was, but being Miss Ambrose surely meant you were worthy enough to finally go.

You were too young to remember Ambrose being on the verge of ruin when the sugar mill shut down, but your parents never failed to remind you how Trudy convinced them and the other families that comprised your close-knit community to stay. Her unorthodox ideas of shifting the town’s economy to reflect that of its patron saint was risky, but it worked, and Ambrose had carved out a niche for itself in beekeeping, wax-melting, and the artistry associated with it. As such, she was the person everyone deferred to for just about everything. Her word uncontested law. And why not? You all had it pretty good in Ambrose compared to the horrors you’d heard of going on outside the town’s limits.

The festival’s celebrations brought in abundant tourists who would patronize your small town’s shops and businesses en masse. While you understood the importance of the tourism during the festival, you found the raucous way they acted almost disrespectful to St. Ambrose and the reverence he deserved for providing so much for you.

At the very least, photography wasn’t allowed in the church. It was there that the town’s offering to St. Ambrose was displayed, a wax figure, always carefully detailed to look almost indistinguishable from a real person. Tourists could marvel at the statue, but not document it. You didn’t care for them and how they seemed to regard you all as sideshow freaks for being so insular. It especially bothered you that Vincent had to wear his mask whenever they were around. You’d hear them whisper about it, speculating why he wore it. They had no idea it was because of them.

Otherwise, he presented his bare face to your community who regarded it with normalcy. When your family would join the Sinclairs in the pew at mass, you’d occasionally end up sitting next to Vincent. You’d feel his hands, strong and soft from his work, holding the one next to you a little tighter than you normally would during the Our Father. For the sign of peace, in which you’d exchange blessings between clasped hands and chaste kisses on the cheek, he presented the unscarred half of his face to you. Still, you silently wondered what the other half would feel like against your lips.

It felt like you blinked, and you were surrounded by the people you’d grown up with, all looking at you with an unfamiliar yet welcome respect. You basked in the attention like a sunbathing snake, each compliment and affirmation filling your chest with a warm pride.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” your mother said, giving you a hug with tears in her eyes.

Your father agreed, giving you a pat on the back. “You earned it! We’re so proud of you.”

“Y’all did a great job with this one,” Trudy said.

Your family was one of the dozen or so original families that stayed in Ambrose at Trudy’s urging. She never forgot your family’s loyalty and trust in her, and it wasn’t uncommon for you to sit with them at mass or be invited to their house for a meal or a holiday. You reveled in any extra time you got to spend with Vincent, although being in the presence of your town’s savior always left you in awe.

“C’mon, a lot of that’s thanks to you, Trudy, mentoring the kids and teaching catechism on top of everything else you do,” your mother said.

While Father Julian was the parish’s pastor, most spiritual matters went to Trudy, and her decision was final. She taught catechism and set the standards for receiving sacraments. It caused friction with the larger diocese, and not long after you made your first communion, St. Ambrose’s parish split from the Vatican. Trudy had explained they lost their way, and that Ambrose was the only place practicing real Catholicism. That was why new families moved in, looking for the truth. You felt lucky to live in such a place.

“I’ve got big plans for you, girl,” Trudy said. “‘Specially with the festival coming up.”

You nodded. “Of course, Ms. Trudy. Whatever you need.”

She walked away, and you noticed Vincent subtly motioning toward the service exit behind the stage. 

“Ready to head home?” your mother asked.

“I’ll catch up. There are a few people I want to talk to first,” you said.

Your father nodded. “Alright, well, don’t stay out too late.”

Once they had left, you didn’t see Vincent in the theater anymore, and managed to slip outside undetected a few minutes later, fending off your horde of admirers. There was only one person whose attention you really wanted, anyway.

He stood outside, waiting for you in the shadows of the building. Your heels clicked against the asphalt as you walked over to him.

“Congrats, Miss Ambrose,” Vincent signed. He smiled, reaching up to adjust the tiara atop your head.

“I don’t look ridiculous, do I?”

He shook his head. Your face heated up when his hands made gentle contact with your skin. He traced your gestures with the pads of his thumbs, brushing your forehead, down to your cheeks, and finally to your lips. Vincent cradled your face in his hands for a moment longer before kissing you.

Without hesitation, you kissed him back, taking in the texture of his lips, the warmth of his body. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer. Steadying yourself on his bicep, you silently marveled at his strength, gasping into the kiss and allowing his tongue access to your mouth. 

Despite having heard homilies at mass and ramblings from Trudy about the sin of fornication outside of marriage, you didn’t know what exactly they were talking about until the summer after you started high school. Bo had taken pleasure in explaining the dirty details, offering to give you a demonstration. You rejected him in disgust at how lewd he made the act sound, and until then, in Vincent’s arms, you didn’t understand how anyone could fall into that trap. 

You whined softly when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he signed.

“Why did you wait?”

He nodded toward the door. His mother. For how similar he and Trudy were, they always seemed to butt heads. Still, he was the son she spoke most highly of. Vincent, the focused, dutiful son who’d inherited his mother’s artistic ability and connection to the spiritual core of the town. Her feelings on Bo changed with the weather, though it seemed he was poised to become the public face of Ambrose. A good fit, he could talk his way in or out of almost anything. Lester kept a lower profile, but he was always around to help whenever someone needed a hand. If you were being honest with yourself, you thought he was the best fit to take over Trudy’s leadership duties in Ambrose, but she always had a clear preference for the twins. 

With Vincent being Trudy’s favorite, she’d be incredibly selective about who his potential partner would be. All relationships in town had to be cleared by her. She’d shut people’s requests down for petty reasons. Now that you were Miss Ambrose, there was no reasonable way she could object to you being with Vincent.

“Maybe after the festival, we can ask her,” you whispered hopefully.

He nodded, though he practically jumped away from you when the door outside swung open, clanging against the brick wall behind it. 

Bo stood in the doorway, a knowing grin on his face, partially obscured by the shadows. “Lookit you. Bagged Miss Ambrose herself. Never thought you had it in ya, Vinny.”

“What?” Vincent signed.

“Mama’s lookin’ for y’all. I can tell her you’re busy.”

Vincent rolled his eye at Bo, “We’ll be right there.”

When the door slammed shut, Vincent kissed you again, more quickly this time, and the two of you set off to find Trudy. 

Still backstage, socializing of course, her time was a precious resource nearly everyone in town was vying for. The Miss Ambrose contest was as good of a time as any for people to catch a few minutes with her, bring up concerns or ask for advice while she was available. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and Vincent together. 

“Just the people I wanted to see,” she said, as if she hadn’t sent Bo searching for you. “Vincent’s gonna be making the offering for the festival this year, some other things too to help his old mama out. Can’t do as much as I used to. You’ll help around too, won’t you?”

“I’d love to. Anything you need, just tell me.” 

“You got a good head on your shoulders. Wouldn’t’ve dreamed of crownin’ those other two. Daphne had some nerve even competing after that stupid stunt she pulled last year,” Trudy spat.

The previous year, Daphne had publicly challenged Trudy on a new directive regarding new families that moved into town and their church attendance. It was an innocent enough remark, but the principle of the thing got to Trudy. She was spiteful and vindictive, one to hold a mean grudge, but you supposed those traits were necessary to be a leader like she was. 

“Then that Christine’s a hussy. Tried to make my Bo stumble.”

You had a sinking feeling it was the other way around, and Bo had sold his mama some backwards story after his advances were spurned. You once heard someone say he could flirt the panties off of a nun. Not entirely untrue, but he was too impatient and entitled to accept anything other than complete compliance with his sexual desires. 

“I’m sure you’re not surprised Louann’s daughter didn’t bother. Might’ve given you a run for your money,” she said, looking almost unimpressed by you for a split second.

“Well, I guess we’ll never know,” you said. “I can’t tell you enough how much this means to me.”

“You deserved it, honey. Gonna be a lot of work for you the next few weeks, but I think you can handle it.”

She shooed you away, telling you to go home before it got too dark. You almost laughed. In your small community, everyone knew each other. You were just as safe walking around at 2pm as 2am. Nothing bad ever happened in Ambrose. At least, not like the horrors of the outside world you’d gleaned from the few times you bothered to watch the nightly news. All it did was confirm how lucky you were to live in a place like Ambrose, where you wanted for nothing and had few worries, didn’t have to fear what could be lurking in the dark.

“I’ll walk her home,” Vincent volunteered.

Trudy nodded. “Good. You give my parents my best, now.”

“Of course, have a good night,” you said.

When you were a safe distance from the movie theater, far from wandering eyes, Vincent took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the top of it. The walk to your house would be short, but you wished for miles more to spend walking alongside him. Alone. He stole half a dozen more kisses from you while the two of you dragged out the walk to your front porch. If not a kiss, then his hands would be on you–the small of your back to guide you along or intertwined with yours as his thumb brushed soft circles on the top of your hand.

“I’m not going to see much of you for a while, am I?” you asked softly as your house finally came into view.

He shook his head. From what you understood, the offering was the most important part of the Feast of St. Ambrose. He’d already gotten lost in his work, whether additions to the wax museum or personal projects, but something so crucial would be sure to consume him until the day arrived.

A sad smile spread across your lips, though you understood. 

The next few days, you didn’t see much of Trudy or Vincent, instead helping around town with the various preparations for the Feast of St. Ambrose. You decorated the statue in the middle of town, an elaborate wax effigy of the patron saint, created by Trudy herself. As you covered it with carefully crafted floral wreaths and vines, people already began leaving small offerings at the base of the statue.

Just before the festival, you found time to visit Vincent, basking in the warmth of his studio, practically a furnace. Opera music grew louder as you approached. You’d spent time with him down there before, able to find your way from any of the subterranean entrances throughout town. 

Either the music was too loud, or he was too entranced in his work to notice you enter. His broad back was turned to you as he leaned over a work table in deep focus. A woman. Nude, bound to the table yet seemingly unable to move otherwise. Still you heard them through her gag. Her moans. Vincent’s hands were all over her body, caressing her curves with care, fingers tracing her features. A blinding envy flashed through you. 

“Vincent,” you snapped.

He turned around, shock that quickly twisted to rage. “What are you doing here?” he signed. “Get out!”

“No! Who is she?”

“It’s not what you think—“

“I’m Miss Ambrose!” you shouted. “Me! What does she have that I—“

“She’s the offering,” he signed.

You froze, your gaze shifting to the bound woman once more. “That’s not–you’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re going to kill her?”

He nodded. Her muffled screams grew louder. “The offering is killed and then encased in wax for St. Ambrose.”

No wonder photos weren’t allowed in the church during the festival. He eyed you cautiously, expecting you to run away screaming.

“Can I watch you do it?”

He hesitated. 

“Please, Vincent?” you asked softly. 

“I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“For doing what’s right? For making sure we’re provided for? We’re not messed up. The rest of the world is.”

With a newfound confidence, he grabbed the knife on the tray next to the bound woman, and you watched in awe as he lifted his arm above her chest and swiftly plunged it perfectly through her heart. Before he could pull the knife from her still warm flesh, you placed your hand over his and dug the blade in a little deeper. 

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher community #slasher fandom

[blues824]

HEAR ME OUT:

The TWST dormleaders with a theater S/O who preformed musicals and starred as the villains so like for Riddle, they were in a Alice In Wonderland, they'd be the Queen of Hearts and had to memorize all the rules so, before and when they start dating they already have a wide knowledge of the rules.

And goes the same for the rest with who they're supposed to be, but I also feel like Vil would be impressed cuz musicals bro, they take courage to even preform and here is the S/O just rocking

Idk I just thought it'd be a good idea :)

Take care!

- 🎭🦀/Theater Crab anon

Reader wears ‘feminine' clothing in a few of these scenarios, but is still kept gender-neutral. Remember, back in the olden days guys would play the role of female characters (meaning they wore dresses as well).

Riddle Rosehearts

I would say that Riddle enjoys a play from time to time. Now, when Crowley hosted auditions for the roles, he encouraged his dorm to audition. He personally wanted to get the role of the Queen of Hearts, for obvious reasons.

Imagine his surprise when the results were posted that he didn’t get the part, but not just that: you were going to play the Queen of Hearts. He immediately started looking for you. Once he did, he cornered you and demanded to know how.

You explained that back in your world, you loved to play the villain in every musical you were casted in. You already knew each of the 810 of the Queen’s rules, and you had the vocals for it, so it was a simple choice for Headmage Crowley.

On the actual day of the musical, Riddle was in the front row, eagerly watching out for you. Even though he seemed mad when speaking to you, he was actually very excited to see his crush play the role of his idol.

When he saw you march out onto the stage in the dress designed for the Queen, he was shocked. You just looked so regal. You put on an air of authority, and your voice… it was as if the Queen herself were there on that stage.

After the show, he was sure to get you a bouquet of flowers. He congratulated you and even complimented on your acting skills. This is when he asks you out and you, loving him in return, accepted his invitation to afternoon tea. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

Leona Kingscholar

When he heard from Ruggie that the Headmage was putting on a production of the Great Seven, he didn’t care. Instead, he scolded Ruggie for awakening him from his nap. He was having the most excellent dream too! (You and him were cuddling on his bed).

Then his companion said that you got the part for the King of Beasts. He immediately jumped out of bed and rushed out of his dorm looking for you. How in the actual hell did you get the part and not one of his dorm members? Once he found you, he cornered you.

You hastily explained that back in your world, you loved both musicals and the Lion King. You had already played the role of Scar a few times before, so it wouldn’t be anything new to you, plus you have the vocals for it. It would save Crowley a bunch of money in the long run as well.

Of course he shows up when the play starts. He’s in the very front row, along with his brother, his sister in law, and his nephew. There was no way either of them would have missed this. He would never admit it, but he was excited about seeing you play his idol. (His brother definitely noticed and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it after.)

When you walked out on stage to talk to your ‘brother’, he immediately related to that. It truly was humorous how much he was actually paying attention to you. Then when you convinced the hyenas to help you? The way you sang made his heart soar to places unknown to him.

After the show, he brought you a bouquet of flowers. His heart was racing a thousand miles a minute, but he summoned up all his courage and asked you out. You could never imagine the insane amount of relief he felt in that moment when you accepted.

Azul Ashengrotto

He definitely had a part of the financial section of the play. He was the one who held auditions as well. He was definitely interested in who would end up as the Sea Witch, since she’s who the Octavinelle Dorm is based off of.

Imagine his surprise when he found you in front of him at the microphone. We all know how it went. You took a breath and did a small segment from Poor Unfortunate Souls, and you nailed it. Azul’s glasses flung themselves to the ground, that’s how shocked he was.

He asked about your hidden talent and you told him that you loved theater, especially when you play the antagonist of the story. When crunching the numbers, Azul told Crowley that it would be better to cast you since you already have had vocal lessons.

As being part of the production, he gets one of the best seats in the house. He is super excited about you being his idol. He sits very impatiently, waiting for Ursula (you) to come out onto the stage. When I tell you that he wasn’t disappointed…

When Ariel goes to visit Ursula, your voice is just so majestic. He had never understood the pure beauty that theater was until now. Not only did you look amazing, but you were his siren and he was the sailor. He would have followed you to the ends of the earth as long as you’d sing for him and only him.

After the show, he gets you a bouquet as well as a contract at the ready. He hands you a quill and tells you to read it through thoroughly. To sum it all up, it was asking you to be his romantic partner indefinitely. You, being as in love with him as he was with you, gladly signed and sealed the deal with giving him a peck on the cheek.

Kalim Al-Asim

He probably invested some money in the play. That being said, he’s invited to be a judge in the auditions for it. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings so he goes on the condition that he remains a spectator rather than an observer.

He was pleasantly surprised when he found out that you were auditioning for the role of Jafar. He wasn’t expecting you to have such the perfect singing voice for such an evil character, but he was glad that you were playing one of the main characters!

After auditions, he ran up to you and asked how you could sing like that. You calmly explained that back in your world, you loved to play the villains, and they typically had deeper voices. You also took voice lessons to get that much closer to the character.

Since he was a primary financial investor, he got one of the best seats in the house. Jamil was seated next to him, of course. He was eagerly ranting to his companion about how excited he was to see you perform on stage.

Once you were on stage, ‘advising’ the sultan, he couldn’t help but be hypnotized by your voice. He had never been able to focus on anything before, but he gave you his undivided attention. It was as if he were grasping onto your words like they were his lifeline.

After the show, he gets you the most beautiful bouquet he could find and he asks you out in the most straightforward way possible. He barely gave you a chance to answer before he was showering you with compliments and praise about your performance.

Vil Schoenheit

When he hears about the play, he also auditions for the Fairest Queen role. Neige obviously auditions for the role of the unfortunate princess. It would be the perfect revenge for him, even if it was just acting.

He was understandably upset that he didn’t get the part, but his sadness was washed away when he found out that you were going to play the Fairest Queen. He was suddenly very eager to see how this would play out (get it?).

He asks you about how you were able to get the role, and you told him about your previous experience with the role and how you already had the pitch they were looking for, as well as being able to give off that aura of evil and regality.

He and Rook were in the front row seats, for once eager about a school event. He believes you deserved this role because you truly worked very hard to get it. He was reading through the little pamphlet and saw that a lot of the cast was members of his dorm. He couldn’t be more proud.

When he saw you on the stage with your gown, he was immediately entranced. You looked so beautiful and perfect. Your acting skills were nothing like he’s seen before. Your voice… he couldn’t find a single flaw.

After the show, he had Rook fetch you a bouquet of roses. He took a picture of you with the most aesthetically pleasing background he could find and posted it on his Magicam. He captioned it, “The person of my dreams, won’t you be mine?” Needless to say, you were tagged by so many people and you said yes.

Idia Shroud

When he hears about the play, he couldn’t care less. It was not very likely that his dorm members were going to audition besides maybe for lights and sounds. He volunteers his services for those two, but other than that, he doesn’t care.

Now, when Ortho tells him that you are auditioning for the role of King of the Underworld, he is shocked. Like jaw dropped, phone dropped, laptop flung itself to the floor, etc. AND YOU GOT THE PART?! Give him a second, mans is lagging like a 2005 Dell Desktop X. 

Through call (and a bunch of stuttering), he asks you how in Twisted Wonderland you got that role. You gladly told him that your past plays were often either Greek myths or inspired by them. Plus, you had experience playing Hades through that.

Man shows up for you, alright? He is dedicated to see you perform, and also Ortho wanted to go see you as well. He was very anxious since he was in a very crowded space, but since his family is another investor, he got some more isolated seats. 

When you were on and talking to ‘Meg’, he couldn’t help but laugh a few times at how comedic the character was. By the way, how did your voice go so deep?? He is so invested in your character that he plans a whole ass video game based on this play.

After the show, he very shyly hands you a smaller bouquet of black and blue roses. Then he quickly runs away. Upon further inspection, you see that there was a note attached to the stem of one of the flowers. You looked and saw that it was him asking you out. You texted him yes, and continued the mini-meet-and-greet.

Malleus Draconia

When he heard about the play, he was very excited about it. He invested a small amount of his fortune (which was about a billion dollars). That way, he was able to book better seats for him and his retainers. 

When he found out who was going to be playing the Thorn Fairy, he simply could not wait for the play. His child of man was going to be playing one of the Great Seven?? He is immediately trying to find you so that he could ask you the thousands of questions he has.

When he does find you, you gladly answer any and all queries he has. You tell him about how in your world, you were always a part of some play or musical and you always auditioned for the antagonist since your voice could reach that level of raspiness.

He’s very eager in the theater, though he doesn’t show it since he has a public appearance to maintain. He looks and sees that Lilia, Silver, and even Sebek seemed eager as well. Maybe it was because their dorm was finally getting some representation in modern media?

When you entered for the party scene, he couldn’t help but be entranced. You gave off the threatening aura of strict authority that he had never seen from you before. You were definitely made for the role of Maleficent.

After the show, he threw an enchanted rose to the stage and made sure it landed in front of you by using his magic. He was glad to see you got the message and picked it up and bowed, making your way off the stage. When he finally made it out of the theater, he asked if he had your permission to start courting you, and you had a happy dragon on your hands when you accepted.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #riddle #riddle rosehearts #twst leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #twst azul x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul #twst azul #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim #kalim #kalim al asim #twst vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader

[symphonyofmalice]

Epaine

@charmantevamp (liked for a theater-era starter)

The Theatre Des Vampires was putting on a play- an odd, monstrous, macabre adaptation of the abduction of Persephone.

Nicolas, playwright, musician, centerpiece of the theater- was in the titular role of this particular performance. The play began with him in the role of Maiden. His long hair was loose, braided through with wild flowers. His clothing was all flowing pastels. The other vampires danced around him, nymphs and divine companions, as he played the violin. The song was one of pastoral beauty, of peace, joy and springtime.

Some found the casting of Hades odd. Was the Lord of the Underworld usually so small, so slight of frame? But the actor playing the eldest Olympian brought a gravitas to the role nonetheless. Cloaked in darkness, presaged by the beat of earth-shaking drums, attended by ghoulish monsters, he stole Persephone away. The shrill, stabbing notes of the violin as Nicolas was dragged into the darkness sounded remarkably like screams. The vampiric dead tore the flowers from his hair, crushed them under foot, left him in torn rags.

Now the temptation began. And this was the theater of the vampires after all. Hades wooed his stolen bride with a procession of victims- played mostly by vampires. They were dressed in the Greek style, with dripping necklaces of red rubies- the pomegranate seeds of blood. Persephone refused again and again, except for the last- the only true mortal in the line. One more, like so many others, stolen off the street and charmed with mental tricks. Hades and the other vampires feasted on the victim, drinking deeply. And submitting to temptation, Persephone drank just enough for the stain of red around her lips to be visible to the back rows of the audience.

But there was no Demeter in this play. No springtime. No return from the cold, frost, death of Winter. No escape from the Underworld. Instead, it showed why Persephone had epithets like Brimō, the angry. Epainē, the fearful, the dreaded. Dressed now all in black, Persephone stood side by side with her husband. Queen of the Underworld, watching with stone-faced impassivity, waiting for the next doomed mortal, merciless to how their suffering was once her own. The curtains closed on the screams of the next victim being brought in.

#epaine #charmantevamp

[voluptuarian]

Favorite Movie Costumes (pt. 1)

Recently got the line-up-your-toys urge to list and discuss my favorite tv and movie costumes-- my favorites are many and tumblr's image limit is low, so I'm not sure how many posts this'll eventually spread to, but here's the first crop.

The Queen's red gown - The Brother's Grimm

I don't think anyone on earth wanted to love this movie more than I did when it came out-- sadly, the film itself was generally a letdown. However, its costumes absolutely delivered, which should come as no surprise since they were designed by Gabriella Pescucci. The costumes for Monica Belluci's queen are my favorites of all, but this piece, the one she wears for most of the movie, may be my favorite costume of all time.

The costume has several iterations; it's paired most prominently with her enormous horned headdress (my fave), but she also wears it with a more delicate tiara.

Marianne de Morangias' red riding habit - Brotherhood of the Wolf

Although Brotherhood of the Wolf is far from a good movie, I have a terrible soft spot for it, which is mostly due to its wonderful costumes, including a crowd of hunting costumes throughout, none more gorgeous than the one Marianne's debuts during the film's first hunt.

I probably owe my love of riding habits to American Girl's Felicity and her swoon-worthy green velvet habit-- they are sadly underused in movies (meanwhile Marianne not only wears this red habit, but also shows off an equally beautiful green one later.)

Christine Daae's masquerade dress - The Phantom of the Opera

Fun fact, I watched this movie as a teenager (after falling in with the inescapable junior high theater nerd crowd, who tried unsuccessfully to use this as a gateway drug to getting me hooked on musicals), then forgot about the vast majority of the costumes, and stumbled upon it again years later without realizing it was from a movie and completely fell in love with it.

I'm very fond of the early 1870s silhouette in general, long trains in particular, and the back of this one is what really sold me. The frothy layers of chiffon?? the flowers?? the graceful tiered bustle?? Obsessed. (Another fun fact, this is one of the references I always bring up when discussing potential wedding dresses.)

Imogen Spurnrose's red ensemble - Carnival Row

I know, another red velvet number ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Imogen's wardrobe is full of lovely quasi-Victorian pieces, but this one had me GASPING when it came on screen. These pictures do not do the color or vibrancy of that jacket justice!

Geilis Duncan's white ballgown - Outlander

I'm usually not a fan of stripped down historical styles, especially ones this anachronistic, but something about the minimalist design of this dress just charmed me.

It reminds of in some way of artistic undress in 17th century portraits, and the lightness of the colors and material has this clean, airy, almost White Lady quality to it, and the simplicity and limited accessorizing really brings out the period silhouette. (Also I adore lover's eyes).

Vanessa Ives' lace blouse - Penny Dreadful

Vanessa has a gorgeous wardrobe (Gabriella Pescucci hitting it out of the park again) containing a number of delicate black and white blouses, but this one is my favorite.

The design is not that complex, but the wealth of tiny details, especially the petal shaped blackworked collar and cuffs, give it a huge visual punch; paired with the decorative belt and beautiful black skirt it's a very unique look that shows off some of the most beautiful elements of the period (last photo courtesy @periodcostumefantasylover)

Lorna's church dress - Lorna Doone

YES another red number. And what a red!! This miniseries is so obscure I had to do my own (butt ugly) screencaps off Youtube, but despite being a fairly modest production, they do some nice 17th century looks in it.

This dress is glimpsed for a moment as Lorna catches sight of her separated lover through the crowd-- very dramatic, but unfortunately it means getting a good look at the beautiful dress is hard, but I did my best: here's the actual scene, if you want a better look (and I'd recommend the series, too!)

Virginia Wilson's Worth dress - 1899

Big shock, the replica House of Worth dress made it in *Oprah shrug* I've adored the original dress for years, so I went nuts seeing it on the show! On top of just top tier everything, the costuming on 1899 was great, and the fact that they decided to throw this dress in was just the cherry on top.

There are some minimal differences between this dress and its inspiration, most notably the change in pattern-- Virginia's dress not only incorporates the alchemical logo like all the rest of the characters, but the rounded edges in the original are all made jagged to match it, as you can really see in the last photo.

---- on to part 2!

[lunarthing159]

So bc A New TrafficLife Series Will Be Released In A Matter Of Hours, Allow Me To Share Another Batch Of Team-ups I'd Love To See! (I Did One A Few Weeks After Limited Life Which I Will Reblog After I Post This)

Ren & Scott

These Two Have Been Mortal Enemies One World, On Semi-Good Terms The Next, And Then Kinda Inbetween The Next. Their Dynamic Has Been Many Things Over The Course Of The Series And I'd Love To See How An Actual Alliance Would Work With Them! Ren's Theater-Kid-ness & Scott's Flamboyant-Gay-ness I Believe Would Go Together Quite Well!

|

Jimmy & Cleo

These Two, In 3rd Life, Were The First Two To Ever Be Perma-Killed In The TrafficLife Series Where They Both Even Got Killed By The Same Person! Skizz! Also I Want To See Jimmy's, As The Community Has Dubbed It, 'Wet Paper Bag Of A Man'-ness To Have A Dynamic With Cleo's 'Gatekeep, Girlboss, Gaslight, Guilt Trip, Gossip, ect'-ness. I'd Also Wanna See How Cleo Would React With Both Outcomes Of Jimmy Breaking The Canary Curse Or Once Again Being Trapped In It's Cage And If Cleo Would At All Try And Prevent This Fate.

|

Soup Group (Gem, Imp, & Pearl)

I Know I Know, Call It Cliche, But Let Us Not Forget That One Art From The KingRen Times Of 'Local Dwarf Recruits A Princess & A Queen To Overthrow A Monarchy' (I Do Not Remember Who Made The Art- If You Remember, Pls Tell Me bc It Is Very Good Art & I'd Love To Reblog It). Besides! Let Us Not Forget The GeminiSlay & Scarlet Pearl Combined With Impulse's Technical Knowledge Could Be A Threat If Left Unnoticed!

|

Joel & Bdubs

Listen- Both Have Teamed With Etho Before. Both Can Go Absolutely Feral & Crazy & Bloodthirsty At The Slightest Provocation. Do You Realize How Funny & Scary & Silly This Teamup Would Be??

|

Martyn & Joel

Ik- Two Joel Teams In A Row But You Cannot Tell Me This Wouldn't Be Funny & Cool! Joel Is Absolutely Feral To The Point He Can Disregard Caution Meanwhile Martyn Chooses When To Go Feral With Just Enough Caution. Also, w The Watcher Lore & Stuff, We Could Have The Watchers Acknowledge Joel's Tendencies To Prioritize His Kill Count Over Much Else And Maybe Even Try And Place Doubt Between The Two.

|

Grian, Ren, & Scar

And I'll End This List With These Three. A BirdMan, A CatGuy, And A DogBoy. I Don't Have Much Reason Other Than The Fact That These People Were At War In 3rd Life & I Think It'd Be Fun! If You're Questioning Why Not Martyn As Well, I Honestly Have No Clue Lmao. Probably Or Possibly Because I Can't Think Of An Animal Symbolism For Him lol

Anyways- Hope Y'all Enjoyed By Random Takes And, Regardless If Any Of These Teams Happen Or Not, Happy New-TrafficLife-Series Day!

#Lunar Writes Stuff #trafficblr #traffic life #rendog #renthedog #scott smajor #smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #zombiecleo #geminitay #impulsesv #pearlecentmoon #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #bdubs #bdouble0 #bdoubleo100 #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

Sam Carpenter as your girlfriend headcannons (Part 5)

She will sit in the front row at all your plays watching you act in theaters in all the plays you got the lead role in

The first time she saw you act she was blown awake completely

Like mesmerized

She argues with her boss to let Sam out early so Sam can make it on time to see her girlfriend act in a horror movie play

After every play you star in Sam will take you out for ice cream

She adores how clingy you’re to her

She adores how lovesick you’re about her

Loves when you scream her name during sex

And doesn’t care that everyone can hear you

Sam loves how needy you are

Sam asks you to marry her everyday hehehe

And you always say yes!

Sam loves to give you extra pillows to cuddle with when she has to go to work which has her scent on them

And when she gets home Sam cuddles you so so tight

She can hear your heart beat and you can hear hers

She’s the queen of corny jokes but they make you smile

”Our hearts are beating together”. Said Sam. “Does that mean we are one and not two?” Sam asked trying to be funny

You just looked at her. “Lame”. You said. You smiled.

Sam will always have her arms around you while you and Sam fall asleep

And she’ll make out with you for over an hour

And Sam will always call you baby

When you say the word “Baby” That means you want Sam to cuddle you

She definitely will!

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x y/n #scream headcanons #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter × you #sam carpenter headcanons #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter imagine #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hi! I absolutely adore your works! Can I ask for one where you give benkei head at a place like a cinema or something 👉🏼👈🏼

Yes, yes, you can. Shit I got carried away describing all of this... MAY THE QUEEN OF KEIZO ARASHI SMUT RETURN TO HER THRONE

Nosebleed Seats: Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1,5k

tw: nsfw with *plot*

masterlist

It had all started as a joke. But when you get into the empty theater, holding onto your boyfriend's hand for dear life, your anxiety spikes.

"Maybe we shouldn't..."

Keizo stops on the stairs to the back of the theater and eyes you curiously. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief, even though you're not sure of yourself anymore.

"You chickening out on me, princess?"

You clench your thighs at the sound of his husky voice. Sure, you might be chickening out, but what if someone did show up to the nine a.m. showing of "Scarface"?

"No one in their right mind would wake up that early and want to see this movie," Keizo had laughed, taking his phone from your hand and hitting the "purchase tickets" button.

"What if someone sees?" you hiss, hurrying past the empty rows as if people were there and listening. "Movie theatre employees walk around the place all the time."

"So you think some kid is going to bother to walk up all of these stairs just to make sure--"

"You never know!" Keizo laughs, moving toward the middle of the row.

"I'm sure we'll be fine. And if you really don't want to do this, we don't have to. Scarface is a decent film, in my opinion." You hesitate once more, watching your boyfriend settle into a seat comfortably and take a sip of his (your) drink. Keizo waves you over, titling his head at you as you stand on the end of the row.

"You want to leave?"

"No, I just..." You pause again. Keizo stands, holding the drink carefully. When he stands in front of you, you look away sheepishly, noting the fabric on the chairs in front of you were fraying and that the air had a familiar aroma of stale popcorn.

"If it's not an enthusiastic 'yes'," Keizo whisper, catching your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

"Then it's a 'no,'" you finish, exhaling gently.

"Let's go home, yeah?" When he says those words, a burst of courage floods through you.

"No." You statement catches your boyfriend off-guard. His eyes blink a few times before he echoes,

"No?"

"No. Let's stay." He stands there for a moment more, trying not to question your motives. But it comes out anyways.

"I'm not trying to convince you--"

"Middle seats," you urge him, pointing. "Right there is good." The unsure way with which Keizo eyes eyou does nothing to your resolve. You stand there, flat-footed, finger still pointing at the seats. "Go."

"Baby--"

"You want your dick sucked?" you say, albeit a little too loudly.

"Yes," Keizo hisses, grabbing your hand. "Fine, fine." You don't miss the smile that comes to his face as he turns around as if he were suddenly a kid in a candy shop. You both sit in the middle, directly below the projector that the trailers are playing on.

"Not until the movie starts," you murmur and Keizo nods, taking the Skittles you offered him from your hand and tossing them all back.

"Ew," you comment, but he shrugs, smirking.

"I don't separate my colors like you, baby," is all he adds to his chewing sounds.

It feels like forever until the lights go down and the movie screen flicks on, the old film giving you a sense of nostalgia. It's even longer - at least, it seems that way - until you feel brave enough to sneak your hand down your boyfriend's waistband. Keizo shifts a bit lower in his seat and exhales slowly, each breath straining from his throat as you palm his half-erect cock.

When you pull his length out of his sweatpants, the tip is already leaking pre-cum and shining in the flicker of the scenes on the screen. You lick your lips in preparation to taste it, to let the saltiness of it bloom on your tongue and awaken the lust already rousing from its long sleep.

But you choose to draw out your desires, stroking him and listening to his labored breathing. "You're doing me dirty..." he breathes, just as a character on-screen says,

"Well, you don't know shit 'bout chicks, Chico. When they see this, they know. They go crazy. They don't resist me."

Finally, you lean in and ghost your mouth over Keizo's cock. He almost jolts out of his seat, his hands keeping a firm grip on the armrests. "C'mon, baby," he pleads, but you only dart your tongue out to lick at the ample pre-cum waiting for you. "Not playing fair."

"No such thing," you whisper softly, each breath tickling his skin. It seems Keizo wants to leap up and take you, but he keeps himself under control just long enough for you to suck on his tip once, then let it pop free from your mouth.

You do it repeatedly, and by the time you're good and ready to cup his balls and go to town, Keizo is panting and sweating. He tries to focus on the movie to keep his mind from going insane, but you take him into your mouth slowly - inch by inch - letting your tongue relish in every ridge on the way down.

A hand knots in your hair, not pressing down but holding you there as a sign of pleasure. "Yes," Keizo hums, his body relaxing as you go down his shaft. "Just like that." You can barely make out what's happening on the screen while you suck Keizo's cock, saliva dripping past your lips and smearing all over his thick, veiny shaft. The taste of precum is like manna from heaven, but you choose to keep that pleasure to yourself - Keizo would have plenty of time to hear about how much you enjoyed this later.

"I'm close," he wheezes, and for once, you don't want to hear that. Not when this movie lasted almost three hours, and you're barely an hour in.

You opt to slow down, which seems to frustrate your partner more than excite him. His fingers tense in your hair, but that doesn't urge you to go any faster than you already are.

"Y/n," Keizo whimpers. "Please, baby. Let me finish down that throat."

"Not yet," you reply. You fist his cock and suck on his balls liberally. "I want this to last." The look in Keizo's eyes could kill a thousand men. But it doesn't work for you. "You've got me in here watching a three-hour movie. Might as well savor it, right?"

Keizo doesn't agree, but he groans, leaning even further in his seat. You resume your pattern of sucking him inch by inch, then going a little faster throughout the next twenty minutes. Over and over, Keizo's hands and feet betray his impending orgasm, and each time, you find the willpower to stop.

"...Every dog has his day."

The cock in your hands twitches violently, threatening to erupt with each stroke, each breath, each kiss. But you torture him anyway, smiling even though he can't see you in the darkness.

Finally, Keizo's arms are shaking from restraining himself for so long. His right leg is jumping, and there's very little stopping him from cumming except maybe focusing on the movie. But his thoughts are a blur. All he can think about is cumming. If someone walked in, he'd cum in your mouth anyway, keeping his gaze on the intruder as he did so. But no one comes to rescue him from the torment.

"Ready?" Your voice lifts above the din of the movie, the ra-ta-tat of the guns, the snorting noises, and so many other nuisances. Keizo nods quickly, blood rushing straight to his cock in an attempt to prepare for... whatever.

You don't even speak as you gag on his cock liberally, the sounds of the movie overshadowing your blessed dedication to his pleasure. "Oh shit," Keizo gasps, feeling his toes curl. You place a hand on his stomach, and suddenly, it's over for him.

Hot white flashes burst in front of his eyes, and you feel every single throb and twitch of his cock dumping a massive load of cum into your mouth. You swallow and swallow, but it doesn't seem like there's any end in sight until Keizo chokes out a pained grunt, squeezing his eyes shut and angling his hips a little higher.

Once he begins to go soft, you lick at him a few times, making sure you've cleaned up every single drop. Keizo's hand cups your chin and brings you up for a long, wet kiss to seal the events of the morning.

He tenderly tucks himself back into his pants and sighs, his eyes fluttering.

"Fucking hell," he breathes as you wipe your mouth. "This needs to be a monthly thing."

"Next time it's your turn," is all you say, standing up before the movie's even over.

"Where are you going?" Keizo wonders, standing up despite his confusion.

"I've already seen this movie," you admit brazenly. "Not really a second-time watch for me, though." Keizo's unsure of how to reply, but he follows you anyway, taking your hand in the dark movie theater and guiding you down the stairs, like any gentleman should.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #keizo arashi #keizo arashi x reader #keizo arashi smut

[amphibious-thing]

One thing Kaz Rowe does, which is not unique amongst youtubers, but still annoys me, is that they will tell you who said a quote but not where they got the quote from. For example this quote is simply cited "Le Chevalier d'Eon".

Misgendering aside this doesn't tell us where or when d'Eon said this. Or whether this is a direct quote or a translation of something she wrote in French. You might think this information would be in the description but no there is just a list of sources not specifying where any quote or particular piece of information is from.

Now in spite of Kaz Rowe's lack of proper citation I can tell you that this quote is actually a translation from Gary Kates book Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman. Kates citation for this quote is "Préface général de l'éditeur de Paris, qui en 1798 ...," Papers of d'Eon, Brotherton Collection, University of Leeds Library, Box 7, p. 59.

There isn't anything wrong with Rowe using Kates rather than tracking down the original source from the University of Leeds but I do think they should have cited where they got this quote from. There is no mention that this is a translation by Gary Kates. And this isn't just about crediting Kates for his work but also about historical accuracy. Understanding that this is a translation is important. Knowing when and where d'Eon said this is important.

When it comes to a quote I can easily write out that quote and paste it into google and voilà its from Kates book!

But when it comes to claims made in Rowe's own words I have no idea which of their sources they got that information from. In a section of Rowe's video where they explain their choice to use they/them pronouns for d'Eon (in spite of the fact that d'Eon used she/her pronouns) Rowe states:

They also disliked wearing women's clothes in general, as well as the narrow social restrictions that came with being a woman. In one letter, they described themself as a prisoner of war. And in another letter, they described their situation as being forced to take on womanhood.

These are some pretty significant claims so I'd be incredibly interested in what Rowe's sources are. I know d'Eon talked about disliking women's formal dress and preferring women's informal dress, she wrote; "The informal dress suited me very well, but when I had to wear the formal dress with accessories and jewels, it was a great torment for me". (translated in Dressing d'Eon by Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell) But to say she "disliked wearing women's clothes in general" seems to me a bit of an overstatement.

While I'm lost as to which letter in particular d'Eon talked about being "forced to take on womanhood" the words "prisoner of war" certainly rang a bell for me. My initial assumption was that the "letter" that Rowe was referring to was probably not a letter at all but d'Eon's autobiography in which she writes:

It was then that a new theater of confusion and glory opened before me and swallowed me alive in my skirts at Versailles, where I was kept as an honorable prisoner of war in the household of Madame and Mesdemoiselles Genet, ladies-in-waiting to the Queen, who endeavoured to have me emulate their dress, their work, their conduct, and their virtues. They had to please both their mistress, who was a sovereign, and their husbands, who dominated them. For I who have neither husband, nor master, nor mistress, I would like to enjoy the privilege of obeying only myself and good sense.

~ The Chevalière d’Eon, The Maiden of Tonnerre p16

However considering that Rowe doesn't cite The Maiden of Tonnerre as a source its probably actually from Kates who writes:

A few weeks later, d’Eon’s mood had grown even worse. “Don't remind me, Madame,” he wrote to his closest new friend, the Duchesse de Montmorency-Bouteville, “about the errors of my youth, nor the happy follies of my military career, for the problems found in the midst of a war were more pleasing to me than the tranquillity of being in the midst of the Court during peacetime. In actuality, I live here in the respectable home of Mme Genet as an honorable prisoner of war.” Although d’Eon wanted to be known as a woman, he was having trouble defining the kind of woman he might become. Patriarchal France was intent on forcing him to accept a narrow gender role that meant giving up his military and political career.

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p28

Or maybe Rowe is thinking of the following conversation between d'Eon and Marie Antoinette that Kates includes in his book:

“Madame,” d’Eon responded, “today I realize that the death of my past condition gives life and glory to my present state and to the future for eternity. Allow me to swear that I will remain a prisoner of war in skirts, in faith and in homage to the law. For faith is the first theological virtue; without it we are but a drum echo in the air.”

~ Gary Kates, Monsieur d'Eon Is a Woman p31

Or perhaps Rowe is thinking of something else entirely there really isn't any way for me to know because they don't clearly cite a source.

None of this is unique to Kaz Rowe. This criticism could be made about numerous video essayists. Its a symptom of pop history content in general where people who do not have the expertise in a topic attempt to summarise it for people who will likely never do any further research into it. Rowe doesn't have to cite their sources in a comprehensive way because their fans are never going to do in-depth research on d'Eon in the first place. So they can say that d'Eon "described their situation as being forced to take on womanhood" in a "letter" without ever saying which letter they're referring to.

#chevalière d'eon

[jules-has-notes]

2017 Kettering A Cappella Festival — VoicePlay live performances

Three years after their previous appearance, VoicePlay returned to the stage in Dayton as professional headliners for the Kettering National A Cappella Festival. Their recent schedule hadn't allowed as much educational outreach as usual, so they enjoyed what time they had with the kids.

.

[Here is another recording from the side of the stage with more of their entrance.]

A toe-tapping tune with an audience participation element is a fantastic way to kick off a show. With a performance like this one, it's not surprising that the crowd treat them like the rockstars they are.

Details:

title: Mr. Blue Sky

original songs / performers: "Mr. Blue Sky" by ELO (Electric Light Orchestra); [1:10] "Blue Skies" by Ben Selvin & Charles Kaley (as The Knickerbockers)

written by: "Mr. Blue Sky" by Jeff Lynne; "Blue Skies" by Irving Berlin

arranged by: Geoff Castellucci

performance date: 11 November 2017

My favorite bits:

the crunchy harmonies on ♫ "sun shines brightly" ♫ ☀

J.None working the front row, and the kids' resulting excitement

Layne looping back for his mic stand without missing a beat

"So far, you've been helping us… not so much." 😆 (Very diplomatic.)

the smooth transitions into and out of the "Blue Skies" section

Geoff giving Layne's arm a friendly bump as they cross on the riser

using the mini megaphones to replicate the voice distortions from the original song

the build up to the lovely ending chord

Trivia:

The guys performed this arrangement for a little over a year more before they finally filmed a video for it as the first entry in the second round of their PartWork series.

The mini megaphones later made an appearance in the music video for their cover of "You're My Best Friend" by Queen.

.

There's a ton of overlap between a cappella kids and theater kids, so it was an easy choice for VoicePlay to include a song from the biggest musical of the 21st century in their setlist. It interesting to see how their new member and a live setting led to adjustments in the arrangement from the recorded version.

Details:

title: My Shot

original performers: cast of Hamilton: An American Musical (2015)

written by: Lin-Manuel Miranda & Alex Lacamoire

arranged by: Layne Stein

performance date: 11 November 2017

My favorite bits:

shifting the vocal roles with J.None taking on both the Hamilton and Burr lines

all the audience members singing along

the projections on the backdrop

Earl's fantastic French accent and that dip into his lower register

the moment of silence after ♫ "you're gonna get shot" ♫ and Layne's gunshot sound effect

the building tension during Geoff's repetition of ♫ "Where are these colonies gonna rise up?" ♫

harmonized fast patter lyrics

J's big old belt leading into the ending section

Trivia:

VoicePlay had released their video for this song a year and a half earlier, shortly before the 2016 Tony Awards.

This video was originally posted to Facebook by the Western Brown Choirs from Mount Orab, Ohio.

.

Every performance of this piece is unique. It's also one of the best demonstrations of their group name, a chance for the boys to play together for everyone's amusement, including their own. Unfortunately, this clip is only the first two verses and one chorus, but it's still fun while it lasts.

Details:

title: Elvira

original performers: The Oak Ridge Boys

written by: Dallas Frazier

arranged by: Geoff Castellucci

performance date: 11 November 2017

My favorite bits:

troublemaker Eli nudging Earl to take center stage

pouty Geoff sitting on the edge of the riser, and the ensuing gesture conversation between him and Earl

J.None's smooth runs

Eli's big old riff

Trivia:

This fan favorite tune was a staple of VoicePlay's live shows for many years, including on the 2015 Sing-Off tour, but they've never made a music video for it because the audience response is so integral to the humor of it.

Their buddies in Home Free enjoyed this arrangement so much that they asked to use it as a starting point for their own version recorded with The Oak Ridge Boys.

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Additional photos

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The crowd was pretty excited for the post-show meet and greet.

#VoicePlay #live performance #a cappella #music festivals #music #video #Kettering A Cappella Festival

[zukadiary]

Who among current siennes would you consider to be the best actors?

Oh lord... this is not only so subjective, but also depends on like, what's your point of reference? ･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟTakarazuka Acting*:･ﾟ✧*:･ (and honestly? the prevalent acting style in Japan in general) is such a thing. It's frankly a little clunky and oversized for my personal taste. Although this can definitely be a commonality between stage and screen, it is worth mentioning, to be fair, that the theaters big productions use in Japan—Takarazuka included—are friggin enormous. Acting for the last rows of B-seki is perhaps (at least somewhat) intentional.

All that preface to say that the current siennes who stand out to me as the best actors are the ones who break from that style most frequently. Off the top of my head, and in no particular order, they are:

Nonoka Himari, girl is a quiet powerhouse

Yumeshiro Aya, girl is a loud powerhouse

Towaki Sea, girl understands nuance

Kujou Asu, give her an EGOT tbh

Kashiro Aoi, character queen

Houma Toa, character queen pt 2, fruity ver.

Hoshikaze Madoka, who to be fair I've barely watched since she left Soragumi but she made the most buckwild different offbeat acting choices I've ever seen last time I watched Hanagumi

Serika Toa, IMO overpowers the ham with the right amount of intensity

Natsumi You, I mean come on

Who are y'all's favorites?

#takarazuka #q&a

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP weekend

You know the drill: send me an emoji, and I'll write and share three sentences for that fic.

Go ahead, make me write!

🦇 Possession

🎀 Sequel to See you in a crown

❄️ Something for @steddieholidaydrabbles

Snippet from 🎀

The theater isn’t overly crowded, seeing how it is a weekday afternoon - mostly parents with kids and younger teens with an early curfew. It weirdly doesn’t help the fact that Steve is feeling positively jittery with nerves. The air in the little anteroom with the snack stand is warm and stale, smelling heavily of popcorn and butter. Eddie has taken off his leather jacket and helped Holly out of her coat like a true gentleman. Steve wishes he could take off a layer, but of course his stupid, horny lizard brain didn’t remember to put on a shirt between the sweater and the goddamn lingerie. So he stands and sweats and doesn’t even dare to tug down his collar for fear of revealing what’s underneath. 

“So,” he says, more to distract himself from his predicament than to make actual conversation. “What’s the deal with that guy? Is he, like, a detective who specializes in mice, or …?” 

Holly giggles. “No, silly. He’s a mouse who lives on Baker Street? Like Sherlock Holmes, you know? And he solves a big criminal case and saves the Queen.” 

Steve wrinkles his brow as the girl behind the counter finally hands over their snacks and they make their way to the theater. 

“What, the Queen of England? A mouse saves the Queen of England?” 

“Jesus, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs into his ear as they squeeze between the rows of seats to find their places. “You’ve fought Russian spies and interdimensional monsters, can you suspend your disbelief about a fucking kids’ movie for two hours?” 

“Fuck off,” he shoots back, mindful to keep his voice low so that Holly won’t overhear. “Or I’m gonna suspend you.” 

“Oh?” Eddie winks at him and leans in close, so close that his breath tickles Steve’s neck, warm breath against warm skin. “Isn’t that rich, coming from the guy who’s currently wearing garters! Popcorn, Miss?” 

The last part was directed at Holly, who has plopped down in her seat with a beaming smile. Eddie hands over her snacks with a flourish and strikes up a conversation with her, skillfully ignoring the way Steve stares at him like a blushing idiot. As he takes his own seat with stiff limbs, he’s grateful for the snack tray in his lap.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

[purpleyin]

A post about Freddy Carter in the 2016 play CIRCA, with some info about the play in here too.

If you repost pics from this elsewhere please remember to:

a) credit the photographer/photo source

and

b) mention me as having found them (I'm purpleyindom on insta if anyone reposts there) since it took a fair bit of time/effort to research this play.

Photo sources: tratcliffe15, 2 -__circa & 3 - the VAULTS performance crowdfunder page and others sources mentioned later

The play was written by Tom Ratcliffe who is friends with Freddy - he was at Oxford Drama School with Freddy, as well as starring in "The Wars of the Roses" (Rose Theatre) with him in 2015.

CIRCA was first performed as a sell-out research & development showing at the Old Red Lion Theatre, Islington in November 2015. After that a crowdfunding campaign was started to raise money for putting on the world premiere of the play in Amsterdam.

10 minutes of CIRCA were also performed as part of Wildcard Theatre's Christmas fundraiser December 1st 2015, with Freddy playing The First Love and Tom Ratcliffe playing The Young Man, and Jamie Jackson directing. Photographer: Ali Wright

Rehearsals for Amsterdam, with director Eleanor Clare Taylor in the 1st pic. Freddy plays The First Love.

Photo source: __circa

The Amsterdam performance happened 8th January 2016 as part of Festival Contact at the Theater de Meervaart. Some behind the scene shots + some more from the performance itself (EDIT: the lefthand side sofa pic I'd included is actually from the 2015 London performance instead - the righthand side one is the Amsterdam set).

Photo sources: - tratcliffe15, - JennieWestbrook, Rikki Beadle-Blair

Following Amsterdam, another crowdfunding campaign was started to raise money for the plays UK première as part of 2016 Pride in London. Here's pics for the readthrough, rehearsals & preview show. Freddy plays The First Love and The Younger Man.

Photo source: __circa

The play ran June 21st-25th, directed by Joe Allan, performed at The VAULTS, Waterloo. As mentioned by a londontheatre1, the actors changed into dark clothes to double up as stagehands like in pic 5. As far as I can tell there's no public recordings of the play, just a very brief insta reel of applause for one of the shows.

Photo sources: - tratcliffe15 , eskijoe + poster design & some pics by Eitan Bernat

CIRCA had another run in March 2019 - for 4 weeks this time - again at The Old Red Lion Theatre, with a smaller cast of 5: Antony Gabriel, Daniel Abelson, Jenna Fincken, Joseph Rowe, and Thomas Flynn. Maybe CIRCA will return sometime potentially but it seems unlikely it would be with Freddy again. I very much wish I could see it tbh but I'll probably have to satisfy myself buying the script sometime.

Photographer Lidia Crisafulli

For anyone curious about the play more generally, Tom Ratcliffe has interviews about the 2019 run linked on his website under 'Press' further down on his writer's CV page. There are reviews for the 2016 Vaults performance here. CIRCA is also published, and there were some quotes from the play released as part of promo tweets - they're behind the read more.

"That’s what everyone says isn't it? Gay men shag everything. Disease and all that. My mum, when I came out, the first thing she said to me was ‘don’t get AIDS'...But things are different now. They’ll be different for us." 

"Have you ever played the Game of Life?"

"Most people get to be happy with just one person. I don't see why I should have it any different."

"You have this thing where you don't let it define you... I'm not going to apologise"

"Everybody loves a drag queen but nobody will ever love a drag queen"

"No one sleeps with one person forever. You can't be so naive."

"This must be a dream."

#freddy carter #circa #uk theatre #lgbtq+ characters #circa 2016 #i wanted this to be better researched and referenced but ended up having to rush posting it so apologies for any mistakes #looks like the website went down between writing and posting this but I added the wayback link #the script book is now sold out so no reading it for me