feeder86 · 1 day ago
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The Curse of Deansgate
An understudy for Chris Peterson? Most of Ned’s friends could not believe it. Nor could Ned, to be fair. The fact that Chris was even doing Broadway was almost just as unbelievable. Hollywood superstars, like him, rarely gave up the time for a twelve-week stint in a production like ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’. It was going to be, without a doubt, the hottest ticket in town.
Ned watched through some of Chris’ old movies before rehearsals began. He devoured them all: the romantic comedies, the science fiction classics, as well as the action hero thrillers where Chris’ shirt was pleasingly absent for multiple scenes. Ned swooned, still feeling unable to comprehend his good luck. He’d done the Broadway circuit for a few years now and was slowly building a name for himself. A major role in his last show had earned him the attention he craved within the industry, despite the show actually selling rather poorly. But Ned simply loved the theatre and couldn’t wait to see Chris in action on stage. He imagined that the guy would feel quite nervous performing to a large crowd every night, especially after exclusively working on movies for so many years. And, as his understudy, Ned would be sure to support him. He fantasised about them becoming best friends and forging a bond like no other. He felt the bubbling excitement in his stomach as the days ticked down, getting closer and closer to the beginning.
The media coverage was already everywhere, even before the two week rehearsal period. ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was a rarely performed production due to the superstition surrounding its commercial failures in the past. Written in the early twentieth century, ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ had apparently never once completed a full run in any theatre; although Ned doubted that to be completely true. Like all superstitions, it made Ned laugh to think that the play would make the usually level-headed investors go weak at the knees; much like all the actors he had met over the years, too superstitious to utter the words ‘Macbeth’ on stage. But a ‘cursed’ play certainly made for an awful lot of clickbait; cleverly helping to fuel the audience’s anticipation, as well as the advanced ticket sales.
However, there was also another reason why the play was being discussed so much; one that Ned felt a little more nervous about. The director would be the incredibly talented Gordon Harrison; an absolute master; especially here on Broadway, crafting incredible productions over a career that spanned decades. He had once played the lead in ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ back when he was in his twenties, and was resurrecting it now, perhaps as a form of nostalgia for himself. However, if anyone was to meet Gordon, it might not have been his ingenious directing creativity that they first noticed. Gordon was known to be one of the largest men working in the industry; a ginormous gut and wide butt, weighing in at a waddling five hundred pounds or more. 
Ned was sure that many people had probably made fun of Gordon’s weight over the years, but none so publicly as Chris Peterson. It had apparently happened early on in Chris’ career, when he was still making a name for himself, playing a small role in one of Gordon’s rare movie productions. When asked what he thought of the renowned director, a young, pretty-boy Chris had been less than complimentary, remarking to a journalist about how grotesquely greedy and lazy the fat director was on set; rarely getting out of his reinforced chair to offer notes to the hardworking performers and crew surrounding him; also referring to him as just another ‘failed actor’ who had shifted to directing once his first career ended. They were throwaway comments, but even Ned remembered the media storm that inevitably came from it. 
Perhaps not for the right reasons, Chris Peterson undoubtedly became better known afterwards. He’d been remembered and picked for bad boy roles where a little edge to the character’s personality was definitely a requirement. From there, he’d only gone from strength to strength, after his management eventually taught him to hold his tongue a little more when it came to badmouthing people he had worked with. Now, the director’s offer of the lead role in this play had been widely seen as an olive branch to the handsome actor, as a way to leave the past behind them; one that had been graciously accepted by Chris’ management team who convinced him to sign up straight away. And so, for the first time ever, the money was pouring in from investors, hoping to get a slice of success as ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was about to be performed to the public for the first time in thirty years.
Some men just had that aura about them. It was the thing Ned most remembered about Chris Peterson, the first time he strolled into the theatre. Like any Hollywood hunk, he was painfully handsome, not to mention stylish. But Chris was also incredibly tall and muscular, giving the perception that he could have turned his hand to any sport at all, had the acting career not worked out so well for him. Ned remembered how aroused he was, sitting in the wings, watching the final act, when Chris rehearsed the penultimate scene, completely shirtless: the broad back, the stunning chest, the insane six pack. Not that Ned was a stranger to the gym himself, it was pretty much given in his line of work, but there was just something so awe-inspiring about the physique of a true Hollywood leading man.
Unlike any other production Ned had ever been involved in, there were journalists waiting outside from day one of rehearsals. Gordon had made it clear that no one was to talk to them or pose for pictures, but that didn’t stop them shouting for attention each time the cast walked out. Usually they wanted to know about Chris, or about how Gordon was doing, working with a guy who had so badly insulted him almost ten years ago. If Ned had been allowed to answer them, he could have told them that, in fact, everything was absolutely fine. Ever the professional, a now twenty-seven year old Chris took to the theatre work with ease, and Gordon didn’t seem in the least bit resentful towards him at all. Perhaps that was the point. The reality was so fundamentally boring, keeping the air of mystery kept the media writing about the play and building that appetite for it.
As for Ned’s dreams of becoming best friends with Chris Peterson, well, that had always been unlikely. Although the man had learned all their names and was friendly enough, Chris kept himself to himself during break times and retained that Holwood mystique with the rest of the cast; continuing to be one of the only people Ned knew who could get away with wearing sunglasses indoors and still look sexy. But, in regards to being an understudy for him, Gordon had told Ned straight out that it was never going to happen. People were coming to this production to see Chris and that was exactly what they would get. It was the investors who had insisted on there being an understudy, just in case, but Ned was never going to actually get the chance to perform to an audience. He would simply stick to his significantly smaller role, dying before the end of the first act each and every night.
“Break a leg!” Ned smiled at Chris as the curtain was about to go up on their first night. He still got butterflies each time he had the opportunity to talk to the guy, even after the long rehearsals.
Chris smiled back, seeming as cool as could be; as if none of this phased him in the slightest. Then, with a final intake of breath, he stepped onto the stage, in front of a cheering crowd, surreptitiously dotted with some of New York’s harshest critics.
There was the strangest of feelings in the theatre that night; like an unheard frequency that was somehow ringing in the ears. Chris’ performance was powerful and moving; rising above anything they had witnessed in the rehearsals. Ned could already see the awards and accolades the Hollywood star was about to amass. The final act was a marvel, and Ned saw their large, oversized director sitting in an extra large chair on the front row, smiling with pride the entire time. When the final curtain fell, the audience rose to their feet, but Gordon remained seated. He looked pleased with himself, like he had just accomplished something he had been working towards for many, many years.
At the afterparty that evening, the excitement was electric. Everybody knew that the show was a hit; perhaps the biggest success they would ever be involved in; the pinnacle of their careers. Their director stood, having graciously acknowledged everyone in the cast and crew for all they had done, only leaving one final man to congratulate. He called Chris to stand beside him and slipped his big, heavy arm over the hunk’s broad shoulders.
“You’ve joined a very exclusive club this evening,” Gordon smiled. “There are very few ‘Gentlemen of Deansgate’ out there!” he nodded; acknowledging the fact that he too had once played the part, some twenty-five years ago. “You’re never going to be the same after this.” 
The grin on Gordon’s face was a little too perplexing for Ned. He couldn’t quite make it out. He held Chris’ stare for an almost uncomfortable time, until finally raising his glass and toasting the biggest Broadway smash in many, many years.
The reviews the next morning sang with praise, just as they had all expected. Ned poured over them all, hoping for even a brief mention of his own performance. Instead, Chris had stolen the show, and the promotional image of him in the final scene, shirtless and steamy, dominated much of the pages that were dedicated to the reviews. By lunchtime, Ned could recite almost all of them word for word. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had felt the curious atmosphere in the theatre that first night. Each review, every single one, seemed to comment on it in some form; like some magical awakening of acting greatness. Still, Ned cut every last one of them out, saving them all for his own personal scrapbook.
“Do me a favour,” Gordon insisted, raising his hand to get Ned’s attention as everyone else busied themselves backstage for the second night. “Drop these off with Chris, will you?” he insisted, thrusting a box of doughnuts towards Ned.
“What? Take them to his dressing room?” Ned asked, delighted and nervous about getting the opportunity to go and see Chris before the curtain went up. “Does he even eat doughnuts?”
Gordon chuckled. “Oh, he eats them alright!” he smirked, already waddling away to deal with something more pressing.
Ned held the large tray of doughnuts in his hands, feeling empowered, simply to go and see the star of the show before he went on stage. He raced along the corridor like a man on a mission and knocked firmly on the door until he heard Chris’ deep, masculine voice telling him to come inside.
Half dressed, Chris’ fine torso was on show as he collected all of his bits for the first act. Ned felt like he had entered at the absolute perfect time. “Um, Gordon sent these over,” he mumbled, trying to think straight and not stare too much at the gorgeous man in front of him. Just how many people would have paid serious cash to be standing exactly where he was right then?
“What are they? Doughnuts?” Chris asked, dropping his belt on the floor and heading straight over. He reached in and grabbed one with each hand, pushing one immediately into his mouth with the biggest bite Ned had ever seen. He moaned aloud and chewed quickly, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“I didn’t know you were so keen on doughnuts,” Ned chuckled awkwardly, simply standing there, holding the box, not knowing where he could put it down. Chris was still purposefully in front of him, seemingly getting ready to take another round.
Chris didn’t answer. He simply moaned as he gorged on doughnut after doughnut; not even caring that his mouth was now covered in sugar. Ned stood there, watching the car crash in slow motion as the entire box was devoured in less than three minutes flat.
“Fuck!” Chris chuckled, swallowing the last of it all. “I had no idea I could do that!” he smirked, turning to look at himself in the mirror, then laughing at how immediately bloated his stomach had become. “Bring me another one of those trays after the show and I’ll let you suck me off,” Chris suddenly declared, reaching his hand down to his crotch and readjusting the suddenly obvious erection that was pressing against his purposefully tight pants. 
“What?” Ned asked; his heart beating faster than ever before. Had he heard that right?
“Don’t act coy,” Chris shot back. “You heard me. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Bring me another tray of doughnuts after the show and I’ll let you suck me dry,” he repeated, reaching for Ned’s limp hand and placing it directly across to his boner. “Deal?” Chris asked, knowing that there was no way Ned would ever refuse him.
Ned left Chris’ dressing room almost shaking with elation. Was this really happening? The hottest, straight hunk in the world was going to let him go down on him after the show? Surely this was just a dream? 
With the first act soon over with, Ned snuck out to the doughnut place across the street and bought the exact same tray of treats that had been delivered earlier. He stood around, pretending to wait purposefully in the corridor, having concealed the order under a pile of clothes in his small, shared changing area. 
The next thing Ned knew, he was back on stage for the curtain call. He’d started to doubt himself; to dispute reality. He was going insane. Chris hadn’t really made such an advance on him, nor made the bizarre request! He was just slowly succumbing to madness. But as they all cheered their way off the stage, Ned felt a very firm hand on his shoulder and the Hollywood superstar bringing his mouth close to his ear, whispering. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
After the buzz of the first night, the second night always felt anticlimactic, with people darting off quickly after the show ended. Ned waited until there was a slight lull in the noisy corridor, until he stood outside Chris’ dressing room holding the doughnut tray, knocking until he heard the call for him to enter.
This time, Chris was sitting. already stroking himself in his chair; legs parted and pants removed, ready for Ned to do what he had come here for. Of course he had a large penis, Ned thought to himself, watching the sexy guy stroking it like he was filming a porn scene. 
“Give them to me!” Chris demanded, having eyes only for the tray that Ned was carrying. He reached out, ripped them from him and immediately began gorging, like he had before. Then, with only a nod of his head, he ordered Ned down to his crotch.
Slipping onto his knees, Ned could hardly believe what he was about to do; something he never imagined could be done. He started slowly, determined to get it exactly right; to give Chris as much pleasure as he could. If he delivered Chris the best blow job of his life, he would. He pursed his lips and worked his tongue to perfection, hearing Chris moan with pleasure as he pushed those doughnuts into his mouth. He felt the guy’s large, sticky, icing-covered hand press onto the top of his head, pushing him deeper into his crotch. Ned obliged, willing himself not to gag as his throat opened further. Then, absolute magic. He’d done it. He’d made the Hollywood superstar climax in what sounded like the most intense orgasm imaginable. 
Ned stood, feeling proud, looking down on the hunk slouched in the chair. The man was a mess, covered in icing and sugar all around his face; his toned stomach now bloated and hard. The man seemed dazed, either from the eating, or the intense relief of having ejaculated so forcefully. He sighed multiple times and began tapping his own face as if to bring himself back into reality. “Fuck! That was good!” the man growled, before sitting up and casually feeding himself the larger fragments of doughnut that had fallen onto his chest during his rampant gorging minutes earlier.
Grinning, Ned knew that this was a tale he would be able to recount for the rest of his life: the day he sucked off Chris Peterson in his dressing room!
“What are you doing this evening?” Chris asked, finally getting to his feet.
“Um, nothing much,” Ned replied, feeling the shadow of the large man cross over him.
“You know this city, don’t you?” Chris pondered. “You’re from here, aren’t you? You can take me out.”
“Yes,” Ned answered, without evening thinking; his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “But I wouldn’t know where to take a Hollywood star like you. We’d be harrassed by journalists the whole time if I took you to the bars I usually go to.”
“Then don’t take me to the bars,” Chris shot back. “Take me back to your place and order in.”
“You… you want to come back to my apartment?” Ned spluttered, overjoyed and simultaneously embarrassed by the thought of hosting Chris Peterson in the miniscule space he rented in the city. Still, he had kept the place fairly clean… Maybe Chris just wanted another opportunity for them to be alone together again.
“Is it far from here?” Chris asked, already gathering all that he needed and slipping a few items of clothing back on. 
“Not far,” Ned replied, realising that he didn’t really have a choice either way. “We can head out through the back and be there in five minutes.”
“Good,” the man nodded, already pushing Ned towards the door. “Lead on.”
Just over an hour later, Ned was accepting the second delivery at his apartment whilst Chris lounged on his couch, gorging himself on the pizzas that had arrived five minutes earlier. The moment he went back in, Chris dropped his greasy pizza down and made to grab the bag of Chinese food, not caring that the slice landed topside up on the couch, leaking the oily residue into the material. 
“I didn’t know that you were such a foodie,” Ned sighed, hoping that Chris’ hunger wasn’t going to get in the way of them having more fun later on. He ran to grab a cloth and began attempting to get the stain out.
Chris’s kisses were passionate and arousing after all the food. Ned had seen some bizarre Hollywood diets in his time, but this binge eating of Chris’ had bloated his stomach up like nothing he had ever known. He was gentle around the man in the bedroom, wondering whether he might throw up should things get a little energetic. Hosting a Hollywood superstar, making him climax in his very own apartment, it felt like a moment Ned had been waiting for his entire life; an experience he could boast about for years to come. Had Chris wanted to stay the night, Ned would have been more than delighted, but the man seemed restless and keen to get back to the hotel he was staying in, ordering himself a ride and bidding Ned a goodnight.
Gordon didn’t seem to care when Chris didn’t show in time for their pre-show meetings, rolling in with just enough time to get into costume and get on stage. For the first time, the backstage crew began to grumble about him, knowing that they were only one week in, with another eleven long weeks to go. But just as the lead actor had seemingly lost all passion for it, so had their esteemed director; no longer bothered by the silly little mistakes that were made by the lighting department on the fifth night, nor the fact that Chris had missed his cue several times by the start of week two.
On their opening night, the show had felt like a slick, well-oiled and ambitious machine. Now things were getting sloppy and haphazard. The excellent reviews of the previous week were being replaced by curious clippings in gossip columns about Chris’ amateurish performances. Not only that, but a rogue cell phone had snapped a picture of Chris during his shirtless scene looking significantly thicker than he had seemed in the promotional shots. Ned had seen it first hand as he continued to slip into Chris’ dressing room after a performance for some fun. He’d known that the make-up department had painted on a six-pack for the last three performances. However, nothing could mask the unmistakable width of Chris as he turned to his side; a distinct paunch starting to form. All of a sudden, that one picture seemed to be everywhere and all of the press interest in the play turned directly towards Chris’ weight gain.
“There’ll probably be more people trying to get pictures of you tomorrow,” Ned warned as he snuck into Chris’ dressing room and caught the guy gorging himself on a couple of boxes of cookies that had been left in there for him.
Chris scowled and nodded for Ned to lock the door behind him. “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” he grumbled, sliding down in his chair and pulling out his hardness for Ned to suck on as he ate.
Ned assumed the position, noticing the roll of stomach fat that was beginning to encircle Chris’ waist. His fingers slipped onto it as he took Chris’ hardness in his mouth, noticing the soft and doughy nature of it, slyly ruining the ultimate Hollywood sixpack. Ned knew he was in some way enabling Chris by not walking away and failing to challenge him on his eating but when else in his life was he going to have the chance to be with a global superstar like this?
With the doughnuts gone, Chris stood up and removed the last of his clothes, ready to fuck Ned over the table at the back of the room. Ned obliged, catching the view of Chris’ softer glutes in the mirror as they began kissing; the back fat standing out so much, the skin starting to roll. “Chris…” Ned started, knowing that he could no longer stay silent. “Don’t you think you need to do something about this?” he asked, pinching the actual lovehandles that had blossomed in just over a week.
“Do you want to get fucked, or not?” Chris growled back, clearly too consumed with arousal to think of anything else. Discussions about the guy’s weight were clearly off the table. Ned, lay across his table, spread his legs and allowed the horny glutton to at last get some exercise.
Their esteemed director seemed slightly different over the following days. Unlike Chis’ stomach, which seemed to grow more prominent each day, Gordon appeared to be deflating. His large gut didn’t seem quite so extreme as he strolled about at a faster pace, going from department to department. There was a twinkle in his eye as he saw Ned and a look that suggested that he knew exactly what went on between him and Chris behind the closed doors of the dressing room.
The man had rejected calls for the shirtless scene to be altered so that Chris could cover himself with a shirt, positively laughing at all the press that surrounded the hunk’s sudden gains. “All publicity is good publicity,” he grinned as if he hoped for a boost in ticket sales from it all; not that there was any need. The show had been booked out for weeks before they’d even started rehearsals. 
News outlets began reporting that Gordon had insisted Chris diet immediately and that he had threatened to kick him out from the show should he not comply. However, none of it was true. Of all the people working on that production, the director was the only one who was not in the least bit flustered by it all, even as Chris’ management seemed determined to find a way to get him out of the play and end this constant barrage of bad publicity. 
Ned felt it all very personally, having fallen for Chris during this strange period of his life. But with so much gossip and speculation flying around, how much longer could his fling with Chris stay a secret? A public ‘outting’ was absolutely the last thing either of them needed right then.
“Eight more weeks to go!” Gordon sang, almost tauntingly at them all as Chris stepped up behind the curtain, a rounded stomach pressing out, ready for the shirtless scene. Gordon appeared to wait, listening intently for the inevitable gasps of the stunned audience as the former hunk went out on stage. Then the director would chuckle to himself and stroll happily away.
Getting in to see Chris was becoming harder and harder. A team of people seemed to surround the man the entire time he was at the theatre; men and women who had been flown over from Hollywood to kick Chris into touch. None of it seemed to be working. Even under the strict eyes of his babysitters, Chris’ stomach seemed to be expanding daily. Tensions with the director seemed to flare up as Gordon failed time and time again to renegotiate the star’s watertight contract. The looming fear that the play would end hung like a dark cloud over all of them. As Chris’s belly blossomed into a small, stout and rounded beer gut, each of them looked at each other and sighed. Would this be their last show? How much longer could this insanity continue?
Like a petulant child, Chris appeared to detest all the fussing around him. Sometimes, at night, he would appear at Ned’s apartment, having snuck out undetected from his hotel. He’d order take-out, complain bitterly about his situation and completely fail to show any self-awareness of his own part in the evolving crisis that surrounded him; even as he gorged on pizza after pizza. He’d drawn Ned in, making him feel like the only one in the world who could sympathise with him; the one sane person in his life whilst all the madness threatened to consume him. Ned had been flattered. He felt special. And even though he could see the giant ball of stomach fat growing larger and larger; even as a double chin began to spread itself under Chris’s handsome face and his tight glutes softened with each passing day, Ned still fell for him and stayed up late into the night, pleasing him in any way he could.
It was week four when everything seemed to crash around them. Ned saw the news flash up on his cell phone before anyone at the play got in contact with him to let him know. Chris had left the production, paying a hefty, multi-million dollar fee for exiting early and ending the show.
“You’re up!” Gordon sang down the phone an hour or so later. “You’re my Gentleman of Deansgate!”
“But I thought…” Ned mumbled back; his head spinning.
“One last performance!” Gordon exclaimed excitedly. “Chris’ team were quite insistent upon it as they added a nice buffer into the cheque they signed this morning to get him out of his contract.”
“Why?” Ned asked, remembering how adamant Gordon had once been that he would never allow Ned to understudy for Chris. “What does it matter to them?”
“Just be here early,” Gordon replied, immediately ending the phone call.
Ned didn’t know how to feel. The last few weeks had been the strangest of his life. On the one hand, he felt elated that he was about to have the biggest career highlight to date, seeing his name appearing in the articles about Chris’ sudden departure as the Gordon’s team sent out their official press release about the final show. However, he also knew that he was unlikely to see Chris ever again. The media had already reported that he had left New York for his home in Los Angeles. Just like that, it was all over.
Gordon positively skipped about backstage, racing between the different departments. There was no denying that he had lost a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks and the spring in his step seemed to catch everyone off-guard. Everything had to be perfect once more and the sloppiness of the last few weeks had to end immediately. Yet, despite all the demands and high standards Gordon was insisting upon, there was still a smug, sickly grin plastered all over his face.
“He’s just had a massive payout from Chris’ people,” whispered one of the lighting guys as Ned watched the man with obvious confusion etched across his face. “I was here late last night when they were all negotiating.”
“Well, I expect it must be a relief for him now all the tickets will have to be refunded for the rest of the run,” Ned nodded.
“That stuff’s all covered,” the backstage man replied, shaking his head at Ned’s misunderstanding. “I mean Gordon himself. He’s just had over five million dollars from Chris to let him go early and to ensure there’s this last performance tonight.”
“They paid Gordon personally?” Ned asked. “But that makes no sense!”
Twenty minutes later and the crowds were starting to move into the theatre, bitterly disappointed that the main attraction for attending this play had inexplicably left the production. Ned had no doubt that he wouldn’t be able to please the audience, no matter what he did that night. Ned had braced himself for Gordon’s assertive approach to managing him, yet the man had barely uttered more than a few words. Despite micromanaging everyone else, as the new lead actor, Ned felt almost as if he was going into the whole thing blind. Gordon stood behind him as the music began to rumble into life, placing his hand on Ned’s shoulder just before his cue. The role had been Gordon’s once, many, many years ago. Perhaps he felt like he knew how Ned was feeling. “Welcome to the club,” he whispered, grinning excitedly and nudging Ned onto the stage.
If Ned could have found the words to describe the feeling as he acted on stage that night, his explanation would have been akin to the accounts of out-of-body experiences. It was as if he no longer needed to recall the lines of dialogue; like they simply flowed through his body. His movements did not feel like his own; his walk and stature had altered. It was as if he embodied the character and had no control over any of it at all. In the papers the next morning, they would criticise him for mimicking Chris’ performance to the very last detail, but in Ned’s mind, the only thing he had actually done was to step out onto that stage. Everything else had been autopilot.
Unlike the final show of every other production Ned had ever been in, the mood that night was too low to celebrate afterwards. People hugged backstage and collected all their things, knowing that they would not have an opportunity to do so at any other time. Meanwhile, after all the obligatory praise, Ned headed back into the main dressing room as if his mind had drifted below a dense fog. He simply sat in his chair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What on earth had come over him?
Half an hour later, a drunken Gordon came skipping into the room, holding a glass of champagne for himself. “You did wonderfully!” he beamed at Ned, despite the fact that Ned had already been told that Gordon hadn’t seen a moment of it; too busy celebrating backstage. “And now, no one else will perform this play for many decades to come!” he beamed. “‘The Curse of Deansgate’ has struck again! An incomplete run, just like every other time it’s been attempted. No financial backers will go near it again,” he laughed, as if this had all been such a vast, cunning plan from the very beginning.
“Everything worked out pretty well for you, though,” Ned managed to utter, catching the scent of something sweet down the corridor and suddenly feeling remarkably hungry. 
“Even better than I expected,” Gordon nodded emphatically, running his hand down his surprisingly deflated gut. “But the curse has never been about financial ruin, has it?” he laughed. “The curse has always been something much more insidious. I taught that arrogant fuck a lesson and got a very decent payout at the same time.” He looked at his reflection in the mirror, seeming pleased with what he saw. “It’s been a very successful few weeks!”
“You never really did forgive Chris, did you?” Ned asked, feeling the strangest sense of familiarity with Gordon. The man’s last words to him before he had gone on stage had been to welcome him to the Deansgate ‘club’ and now that Ned was there, he felt as if he could ask Gordon anything and be told the exact truth.
Goron closed the door that he had been propping open with his large body and stepped inside so that he could not be overheard. “Of course not,” he laughed. “And you sealed your fate the moment you started sucking him off back here after each performance.” He looked down at Ned disapprovingly. “You’re a serious actor. You should have known better than that!” he scolded him. “Perhaps I should have fired you then and saved you from all this.”
Ned dropped his head. Gordon was certainly right there.
“I hadn’t ever planned to let you take the lead. But when Chris Peterson’s management figured things out, the opportunity to throw you under the bus was simply too easy.” He looked down at Ned with triumph dancing in his eyes. “Lay down with dogs and you get fleas.”
“What did they figure out?” Ned asked, having the strangest feeling that the way his mind was so clouded at that moment was all related to something much larger.
“Here,” Gordon grunted, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “I’ve been told to give you this.”
An envelope was thrown into Ned’s lap without Gordon even making an effort to step forwards. Ned opened it up and found a plane ticket to Los Angeles, departing at 2.05am. 
“Lover Boy wants to see you!” Gordon explained, holding back a snarl.
Silently, Ned felt elated. From the moment he’d read that Chris had left New York, he had believed that their fling was over. Now he was realising that he hadn’t been forgotten after all. “Well, I guess there’s no point in sticking around here these next few days, anyway” he sighed, looking around the dressing room he would have to vacat shortly.
“No, I quite agree,” Gordon smirked. “I’ll message him to let him know that you’re on your way.” He placed his hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Now that you’re the very latest Gentleman of Deansgate instead, I have a feeling that you’re about to meet the real Chris Peterson at long last…”
Ned felt eyes on him the entire time as he made his way to the airport and flew across the country, not really knowing what was going to happen when he finally arrived. In the arrivals lounge, a driver was waiting, holding up a banner with his name written across it. Ned’s only backpack was taken off his shoulders as he made his way to the expensive car that was to carry him away. 
They pulled up forty minutes later at the most obscene residence, overlooking the Hollywood hills. The whole residence seemed llavish beyond words. Unlike the chill of a New York winter, the sun shone gently on Ned’s face and he sighed in appreciation at his own good fortune.
A member of Chris’ extensive team came straight out to greet him, ushering him inside almost as if he was expecting a team of photographers to ambush them from the gates . Everywhere was pristine and surprisingly immaculate, from the large marble pillars to the extensive windows at the back of the property, overlooking an enormous swimming pool and the incredible view across the valley.
Ned sat down at the large breakfast bar in the kitchen, where pastries and snacks filled several plates for the members of Chris’ entourage. He was told to help himself whilst the man left the room to let Chris know that he had arrived. Whilst Ned ate, he heard the splash of someone emerging from the pool and suddenly saw the large, looming shape of Chris Peterson marching across the terrace towards the expansive kitchen. Dressed in only his swim shorts with a towel lazily draped over his shoulders, Chris moved with an assertive speed that Ned had not seen from him before; although, his fat stomach popped out in front of him, firm and rounded under his large pecs.
“Excellent!” Chris cheered, spotting Ned and striding straight over to place his hands on his secret lover’s shoulders as he ate. Chris’ strong fingers massaged Ned’s shoulders, not offering any other sign of affection, most likely because his team were all so close by. “Did anyone see him arriving?” Chris asked someone behind them.
“No, sir. It was all very fast and discreet,” replied a deep masculine voice.
“Good,” Chris replied, his hands massaging more softly now and leaning in to whisper into Ned’s ear. “I bet you’re hungry after all that travelling.”
Chris suddenly stood bolt upright and marched about once more, heading to the refrigerator and pulling out as many things as he could.
“Sir, sir…” counselled a woman from his staff. “You don’t need to do that. We’ve got this covered. You can head back to the pool. We’ll look after Ned.”
Chris looked across at Ned, as if calculating whether he could trust his entourage to do what they were promising. “Fine,” he spat, turning around and marching straight out, clearly in a mood about something. “But I need results. I need all of this mess sorting out now!”
Coming down from the high of his great performance the night before was almost impossible. Ned had hardly slept at all on the plane and he had the remarkable feeling of being almost drunk. Time seemed like nothing at all as Chris’ friendly team fussed around him. He was led out onto the terrace to watch Chris’ gruelling swimming training with his coach. Every now and then, the unnecessarily angry actor would call out to his team any time he looked up and saw that Ned wasn’t being looked after with something to eat or drink.
“You’ve got one fucking job!” he yelled from the pool, making them all rush about to serve Ned something else.
Ned was half asleep when he heard Chris’ voice mumbling around him. “Fucking wake him up then!” he ordered one of his team, before huffing and coming over himself. “Ned… Neddy…” he called out in a voice that was barely soothing. “It’s dinner time, buddy!”
Ned opened his eyes.
“He’s awake,” Chris nodded to two guys, who promptly lifted the back of Ned’s deckchair up so that he was sitting upright. “It’s time to eat now, buddy,” Chris explained to Ned, like he was a toddler, using the kindest voice he had heard from him all day. “Mmmm! Look at all this!” he cooed, as a perfect height table was rolled underneath the deck chair so that a table sat just in front of Ned, loaded with different items.
Overcome with hunger, Ned set to work without questioning any of it. Once food was in front of him, nothing else seemed to matter.
“Good. This is good,” Chris nodded again at his team, as he looked back and forth between them and Ned. “He seems to like this the best,” he pointed at one of the dishes, as if that was a cue for them to get more. 
Faced with so much food, Ned found it hard to concentrate. He was given large, chocolate flavoured drinks that were thick and almost difficult to swallow, however Chris seemed to nod his head in approval each time Ned managed to get one down.
Ned wished that everyone else would disappear. He felt so uncontrollably horny for Chris, yet there were always people around, making it impossible for them to come together. Something about the food seemed almost… erotic. He’d never felt this way before, nor eaten so much in only a few short hours; although he wasn’t quite sure how much that was.
As night time approached, Chris entered Ned’s bedroom carrying a large tray of doughnuts. “A little treat before bed!” he winked charmingly, throwing them down on the mattress.
Ned felt his body lunge for them and he began stuffing the first one into his mouth. Chris hopped on beside him, throwing his arm over Ned’s shoulders like they were old friends, rather than lovers.
“That fucking play, huh?” he grumbled to Ned as the guy ate. “Gordon did us both dirty with that one… and I had no fucking idea!” he laughed, like he had had some lucky escape. “That’s why it’s always important to have people looking out for you behind the scenes. That could have been the end of my whole career!”
Chris noticed a large piece of Ned’s third doughnut break off as the houseguest ate a little too fast. Chris picked it up, not caring about the sticky icing that had spread across the sheets, but keen that Ned should get it down him. 
“I’m afraid I’m not going to try and stop you eating, like you did with me.” He looked down at his own, stout gut and sighed. “Look at all this!” he complained, grabbing a large wedge of it. “How the hell did you ever let me fuck you, looking like this? It’s disgusting!”
“You’re beautiful,” Ned mumbled through a mouthful of food, spitting a little out.
Chris tutted and exhaled in frustration. “You’re wasting it!” he growled in annoyance. Getting more fed up when Ned tried to apologise and did the same thing again. “Look, just sit back a bit more and let me take care of this,” he insisted, handing Ned yet another doughnut and feeling his hand into the eager guy’s crotch, grabbing at the hardness, but not stroking until Ned started to eat. 
Ned had never known bliss like it: the tastes on his tongue and the pleasure down below. Each time he swallowed and opened his mouth to moan, in went a fresh doughnut. There were multiple points when he felt like he could have climaxed, yet Chris seemed to hold him back until the very last moment. He came, feeling like a strong jet had erupted from his groin, opening his eyes moments later to see Chris dropping the emptied doughnut tray onto the floor and wiping his hands on the bed sheets. “Was that nice?” he asked, returning to that slightly patronising tone.
Ned nodded, feeling utterly spent.
“Good,” Chris smiled. “Would you like the same again tomorrow?” Chris asked, like he was trying to bargain something out of Ned. So when Ned nodded, stuffed full of food and bloated, the man couldn’t help but chuckle, heading back to his own master suite.
Chris had lost weight. With all his training and determination, Ned had never seen a belly shrink so quickly. Yet, over the coming days, he felt an onslaught of fat begin to slide onto his own stomach, inflating it with softness in an unnaturally speedy manner. Sometimes he would wake from an afternoon nap to find a measuring tape had been wrapped around his arm or thigh, by a member of Chris’ staff; no one seeming in the least bit surprised at the sudden transformation, despite monitoring it closely.
Ned knew he should be paying more attention to his body. But food was everywhere and his brain felt like it was in such a fog. Dressed only in a pair of swim shorts, he couldn’t detect a stretching in his clothes, nor remember where he had even put his cell phone to communicate with the rest of the world outside of Chris’ incredible house. Nothing he seemed to do from that point on appeared to annoy Chris, with the man’s face lighting up each time he saw a shirtless Ned lazily trotting towards the breakfast bar to eat. The other staff were relaxing too, with fewer of them there in the day now. The ‘crisis mode’ of the previous week was now over. 
Chris lifted his arm and still felt a slight stubborn clinging of fat around his love handles. “Do you want some ice cream?” he asked Ned, as if this would somehow remedy the problem. Without waiting for an answer, he headed over to the freezer to fetch it and dumped the complete tub in front of Ned, along with a large spoon. 
Back Chris went to the mirror, turning and flexing, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Ned.
“It’s almost time for you to go home soon,” he smiled. “A couple more days and things should have worked themselves out.”
“I don’t think I want to go home,” Ned replied, feeling his heart sink.
Chris laughed and came over to pat his chubby friend on his back. “I know. I know,” he smiled. “But what am I supposed to do with you once I’m back to my old shape?” He looked down at Ned’s shirtless body and seemed to grimace at the rolls of fresh blubber along his side. “You’ll just be getting more and more out of shape and I don’t really want that hanging around outside by the pool.” He ruffled Ned’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you can understand that,” he laughed, pulling a fresh bottle of water out from the refrigerator and sliding a bowl of potato chips closer to Ned instead. Then, off he went onto the terrace, diving into his pool once more.
Ned didn’t see Chris after that. The guy had disappeared later that afternoon after a lucrative advertising deal had emerged. He read later on that Chris had claimed his appearance in the play had been caused by some form of abdominal distension, unrelated to weight gain. Several so-called ‘experts’ disputed that, but when the hunk reappeared in beach shots looking just as fit as ever only a few days later, all other explanations seemed to be implausible.
No such rapid recovery came for Ned, however. Once home, his ravenous appetite seemed to consume him and he was dropped by his agent only six months later after piling on a ridiculous amount of weight in that period. And, although he could never prove it, Ned always had a suspicion that Chris Peterson’s team had been at least partly behind his declining career; desperately wanting to reduce his influence after everything that had happened with their golden boy.
Ned’s handsome face seemed to bloat and his chiselled jawline was engulfed and framed by an unflattering amount of neck fat. His pecs drooped within a month and his stomach fat swelled into a giant ball of surprisingly squishy blubber. Pants were hard to come by, given how wide his rear had become after the first year. Ned found that he had to detach himself from his old life and form something new; taking inspiration from the only other man he had known to have gone through the same experience….
It was thirty years later when Ned sat in the same old theatre where they had performed ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ all those years ago. It had taken him decades to finance a new run and convince his investors. But, at long last, the show was ready to audition the lead roles. 
Years ago, after Ned had had time to think and understand it all, unemployed and gaining pounds and pounds of lard by the day, he wrote it all down; every last detail of that play he would one day hope to direct: the lighting, the sound, the timings, the instruments. He didn’t know which parts were important to whatever power fuelled the curse that he had lived with for so long; transforming him into the gluttonous man he had been all these years. Everything had to be perfect.
“I’m very grateful to you for coming all the way over here to audition,” Ned smiled at the handsome, young hopeful standing on the stage: the image of his beautiful father. 
“I’m very flattered that you wanted me,” the athletic twenty-seven year old replied. “I believe you were the understudy for my father when he performed here? It was his only Broadway appearance.”
“Yes, yes,” Ned nodded. “That seems like a lifetime ago!” he lied. “And I’m sure your father would be very proud to see you standing there now, ready to fill his shoes,” he smiled, pretending to be sorry that Chris Peterson’s drug-fuelled car crash had claimed his life five years earlier.
The audition went well; not that Ned had ever seriously considered anyone else for the role. Revenge could come in many forms, but few as sweet as this poor boy.
“I think this show is going to be a huge success!” Ned grinned, eyeing his new lead actor’s cute butt as he skipped out of the theatre having just signed a watertight contract. “I can’t wait to get started!”
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carbondioxidewater · 20 hours ago
Text
Make A Move (Pt. 2)
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americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader
genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst
warnings: none so far
word count: 2.3k
(-> Pt. 1) (-> masterlist)
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The next week, you didn't hear anything from Sukuna. You thought that maybe, he lost interest in you, but you should learn just how wrong you were soon enough.
You were sitting in class - it was thursday - and the lecture has not started yet when your former jerk of a group partner took the seat beside you. Great, you thought, of course he had to be in the same course as you.
"Hey." he greeted and you responded back. Then it was silent. Eugh, how awkward.
The door was still open when a certain someone walked past it. Of course, you immediately caught his eyes. He stopped walking and smiled mischievously, when suddenly, he saw the guy next to you, his attention now on your conversation. Sukuna quickly realized that this was the boy you were fleeing from when you two first met.
"You know, it was very rude of you to leave me hanging in that restaurant..." Sukuna heard the guy saying.
"Do you know how embarrassing that was?"
He kept eavesdropping, his brows furrowing with every word.
"I can imagine, I would be embarrassed too." were your only words. Sukuna suppressed a chuckle. He really liked your attitude.
"That's it? You don't even want to apologize?"
"What for?" you asked and met his gaze, indifference in your eyes as the guy went furious.
But before he could speak any further, his aggressive body language was enough for Sukuna to intervene. He came up to you and positioned himself behind the chair of your classmate, roughly pushing it back.
"Hey, idiot. Fuck off, will you?" he expressed loudly, cocking his head up in an order to leave. You looked up in surprise, confusion on your face, because why was Sukuna here?
Your classmate was ready to fight whoever it was behind him, but when he saw that it was Sukuna, he quickly dropped that plan and retreated without hesitation. Bewilderement decorated your face as Sukuna sat down on the now empty seat, staring daggers at the guy before turning back to you.
"What are you doing here?" you then asked, still completely dumbfounded by the current situation.
"What? No thanks?" Sukuna smirked, his whole demeanor changing, whereupon you raised your eyebrows in annoyance. He continued.
"I've witnessed your little talk by chance and figured I should rescue you from that douchebag."
"I could have handled it myself. I don't need a savior." you shook your head.
Sukuna huffed in amusement.
"Oh, believe me, I know that. But why should you worry your pretty little head when this fucker doesn't respect your boundaries anyways?"
You stared back at him.
"It is my duty as a man to hold other men accountable when they step out of line. I can't just turn a blind eye to it, you know. It can get dangerous real quick."
You furrowed your brows at his words, unsure if he was being sincere or if that was just his trick to get women to like him.
"What? Don't believe me?" he questioned at your dubious look.
"I don't know yet." you declared, studying him closely.
"Whoa, I feel like I'm being examined. I should warn you, I'm into that." At that last statement, he smirked again.
"You're into being looked down on?" you laughed quietly, not wanting to cause too much noise as the room was still quite silent.
"As long as it's you who's looking down on me." he murmured and you just watched him, eyeing him up and down.
Then he came closer to you, only inches away from your face now. He opened his mouth and his eyes stopped at your lips, staying there for a while before looking back up and narrowing them.
"Careful inspector, if I didn't know it better, I'd think you want to seduce me."
The smirk on his face widened and you groaned in disgust, waving your hands in withdrawal.
"Okay okay, you can go now." And your voice changed to a faked tone of appreciation. " 'I'm safe again thanks to you.' "
He snickered at your sarcasm and got up when he saw your professor entering the classroom, bidding you goodbye.
"See you soon, sweetheart."
And your heart missed a beat.
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After class ended, the universe found it necessary to send Sukuna your way again - or more like - send you his way. One time a day wasn't enough apparently, because as you walked down the floor, who stood there in front of the lockers was no other than the popular boy himself. He was surrounded by a lot of people, a few of them were probably his football teammates, as you distinctively heard them talking about defensive strategies.
When you walked past the group, Sukuna immediately recognized your silhouette and followed your figure with his eyes. It didn't take long and he excused himself, quickly running after you. Just as you exited the building, he stopped you in your tracks.
"Hey, are you off now? It's getting pretty late, need a ride home?" he offered, holding the door open for you.
"Hey," you greeted him, walking through the entryway in perplexion, "no thanks, I'm good." Although you were curious, did he have a car?
"Come on, do me the favor." he insisted and you exhaled.
"Do you think you're entitled to a favor now for playing hero earlier? If that's the case, then-" but he interrupted you.
"No, you owe me nothing. I just want to make sure you get home safe and aren't walking home alone in the dark."
"Wow, I have to admit, you're really good at this whole player thing." you mocked him.
"You think I'm playing with you?" he laughed and then opened his mouth to say something else.
"So, is it working then?" he joked, voice deepening in an instant before you hit his arm playfully.
"Just kidding, just kidding!" he held up his hands in retreat.
"I'm not playing, though. I mean it." he confessed after.
"Well, I don't really know you and I don't get into strangers' cars."
"Strangers'? Ouch." he pressed his hand against his chest in feigned offence.
"Good thing I don't have a car then, though." he smiled coyly which left you confused.
"Didn't you just ask if I needed a ride?" you repeated his words and he swiftly cleared up the small misunderstanding.
"I was talking about my bike." he then grinned, pointing to the spot behind him, where the motorcycle was standing.
"A bike?" you sounded surprised.
"Yeah? You ever been on one?" you shook your head at his question while he got his bike ready. But, admittedly, you always wanted to experience what it was like to ride one. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to accept his offer.
"What? You've never been on a bike? Well, then it's your lucky day today. Hop on." he said, but you were still indecisive.
"And let you know where I live? What if I don't want you to?" you smiled, irony obvious in your voice. But Sukuna played along.
"Your tone alone tells me you live in a dorm. Am I right?" Your smile simply grew and that was all the confirmation he needed.
"Knew it." he muttered.
"So you were speculating about me?" you instantly reciprocated.
"Always." he grinned and handed you over the helmet.
"Here, take mine. I only have one."
"What, and let you drive without one? No, I'll pass then."
"Calm down pretty girl, it's not the first time I do this." Pretty girl. Why did that name fluster you?
"You mean taking a girl with you?" you teased. He just flicked your forehead.
"No, silly. Driving without a helmet. So don't worry about it."
"Oh, so you're allowed to worry about my safety but I can't worry about yours?"
"Exactly." he gave you a teethy grin and your tummy fluttered in response. You weren't blind - he was incredibly handsome. There was a reason he was so popular after all, but up until now, you've never really noticed it, always somewhere else with your thoughts. Your two worlds were fairly separated before, so you didn't bother dealing with him.
"You're cute. Now come on, before we spend the whole evening here. I'll drive extra careful for you, promised." he assured you, half serious half joking.
A pout spread on your face and you were still hesitant, but Sukuna managed to convince you eventually.
When you sat down, he told you to hold on tight. Not knowing where to put your hands though, you decided to place them on his shoulders shyly.
"What are you doing?" he asked next and turned around, a puzzled look on his face.
"Uhm, you told me to hold on tight..." Did he want you to hold onto the bike instead?
You immediately drew your hands back in embarrassment, however, Sukuna was quick to grab them with his.
"You're supposed to cling to me. This way, you just bring me out of balance and risk falling. Here, put your arms around my waist."
That's what he said, but he did the job himself, dragging your arms around his strong built. You could practically feel the muscles behind the fabric, it was undeniable that he hid a sixpack underneath it. Your heart started racing and you hoped and prayed he didn't feel it pounding on his back.
The drive only lasted for about 10 minutes, your dorm was near the college after all, and here and there Sukuna popped a question, asking if you were okay or if you enjoyed the ride.
It was nice of him to keep the conversation going, even though it was difficult to hear him at times due to the heavy wind. When Sukuna tried addressing you once more and only a "huh?" escaped your lips, he laughed whole-heartedly, the contagious sound making you break out in laughter too. In that moment, you felt so free and careless, and you were so grateful Sukuna took you with him.
Sukuna stopped in front of the dorm complex and turned off the engine. He looked up at the building and started speaking.
"So, a dorm girl, huh? You sharing a room with someone?"
"Not a room, but the apartment. We have two bedrooms." you answered and he hummed.
When you walked up to the front door, Sukuna waited on his bike a few meters away, wanting to see you get inside. You searched for your keys, but as much as you were rummaging through your bag, you just couldn't find them.
"What's wrong?" Sukuna yelled.
"I can't find my keys." you admitted, panicking before remembering you left without them this morning.
"Can't you ring the bell?" He asked you and you explained to him that your roommate Utahime was still working.
Making his way up to you, he pulled out his phone, apparently sending some messages. He seemed distracted for a split second before he tucked the device back into the pocket of his pants.
"Where does she work? I will drive you there."
"No. No, you really did enough for me already, I'll just walk there. But thank you, for everything." you tried brushing him off to not be any more of a nuisance, but he wasn't having it.
"I wasn't asking, I'm definitely taking you there." he commanded and his casualness about it had an effect on you. It was so attractive, the way he was chauffeuring you around the city on the single mission to make you get the keys for your apartment.
Arriving at her workplace, Utahime went speechless seeing you coming in with Sukuna. While he was busy with the soda machine, you explained her the situation and she gave you her keys under the condition you let her in later. She obviously couldn't outwardly ask you about him in his presence, so you two communicated via facial expressions. Utahime tilted her head into Sukuna's direction, a flabbergasted look on her. You tried your best to let her know you'd clear everything up later as he already neared the two of you, the prominent silence seemingly suspicious. He seemed to notice the weird atmosphere.
"You guys good?" Sukuna broke the silence.
"Of course! Everything's perfect!" Utahime exaggerated and you pressed your eyes together in humiliation, facepalming inwardly. Sukuna mustered her strangely, taken aback by her overreaction as well. After that, he turned to you.
"Here for you. Saw this drink on your table earlier, you must be thirsty." he reached you the drink he bought and both Utahime's and your mouth fell wide open at this action.
"T-thank you." you stuttered a little and Utahime let out a small laugh she failed to suppress. You sipped on the bottle of strawberry-vanilla soda and then stored it in your bag. Sukuna was simply drinking water.
Leaving the lobby, Utahime was the receptionist in a 3-star hotel, Sukuna and you walked back to his vehicle. On your way, he mentioned the weird ambience inside.
"Your friend is a little odd, isn't she?" he pronounced and you chuckled, nodding your head slightly.
"A little, yeah." you agreed, "but she's the best."
Sukuna looked at you with a soft smile, but you didn't see it.
As you sat down on the bike and Sukuna got the helmet out of its case, you've come to a realization.
"Can I ask you something?" you uttered.
"Spit it out." he permitted.
"How did you know I don't have a car myself?"
He lips twitched upwards.
"I've never seen you in the parking lot. But I've seen you walking around plenty. I put two plus two together." He's so attentive.
"Someone's been looking out for me." you beamed.
"Guilty." he smirked and slipped the helmet over your head, locking the straps. You looked up at him with big eyes and he met your glance, his half-lidded eyes observing what's left of your face. The tension was palpable for the both of you and before it got too awkward, he was already shoving down the helmet visor to escape your eyes.
The ride back was silent, but he still watched you walking through that door before leaving.
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Soo here's part 2 hehe! Had to make Sukuna a lil' feminist because he's supposed to have a functioning brain <3. Hope y'all enjoy!
taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus , thanks for the support 🤍
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katiascraft · 2 days ago
Text
"Is this the start of something new?" |LN4
Part 2: Made in Argetina: The Series. (Lando's Version)
Parings: Lando Norris x Argentine!Reader.
Summary: after the austin gp, lando and you have your "first date".
Word count: +2k.
Warnings: none. Just fluff. Not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) errors. (I do what i can). Not proofread.
Author's note: finally here it is! Hope you like it i accept more suggestions and contructive critics! Dont forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
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Watching the podium was a dream of yours and now you have made it come true. You heard the anthems for the first time in person. All of the tifosis screaming it out. Charles smiled so proud along with Carlos and Max. You were really intrigued by Max’s character and you hope someday you could meet him. That was another dream of yours. Like Franco said: a tiny human filled with so many crazy dreams. Yeah, he joked about it all the time because you have this dreamy personality but he loves you for that. His so logical and terrenal, he loves that you add the daydreaming he most of the time lacks. That’s why your besties, you understand anc complement each other.
When the podium party ended and people started to spread out into different directions, you decided to call Franco to see where he was at. But he didn’t respond. You felt now again embarrassed like when you bumped into Lando fucking the most handsome cute and hot persona you’ve ever seen Norris and born his phone. You felt so stupid. You forgot your friend is now a driver here and probably doesn’t have time to answer your checking calls. So you decided to get back to the paddock and headed to Williams garage. You didn’t wanna be lost so you concentrated on finding your franquito. Fortunately some guys from the team told you he was at a meeting so you decided to look for Lily.
You found her at a table with another girl and didn’t want to interrupt but you also didn’t want to be alone.
“Hey… hi. Sorry to interrupt girls. I was lost for a moment I’m happy to find you Lily” you said shyly and clearly sorry for making the two beautiful women stop talking.
“Y/n! Oh no, there’s no problem honey. I was telling Alexa about you. So perfect timing!” She said sweet and made you smile widely. She introduced you to Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend. She was so stunning in person. And also really sweet. Lily made you part of their conversation and your stayed with them until Franco was free to get back to the hotel.
Lando was on a meeting with the team he really didn’t want to be in. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to all of that right now. Oscar knew about it and tried to pay attention so at least one of them had the important information and the big men knew. Lando couldn’t stop thinking about you smile and your rosé cheeks. And what you said to him. He also was anxious about the fact you’d never replied. Nor add him to contacts. He wanted to see your profile picture. He wanted to talk to you right now but he had to be here doing driver things. He never tends to be distracted. But he couldn’t help it. You were too gorgeous to not overthink about the whole interaction you had.
When the meeting ended Lando and Oscar went to the mc claren building to get change and eat something before heading to the hotel and rest. They didn’t want to do much. It was a frustrating race and weren't in the mood to go celebrate like some of the boys will do. Maybe he’ll watch Cars and fall asleep before it finishes. It was his comfort plan to be honest.
You and the girls order something to eat at the Williams building. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fact you broke Lando’s phone and that you could have stayed with him. You didn’t know why you felt like that. Like you did something wrong and added to the phone breaking. You started playing around with your phone once Lily and Alex started talking about things you really didn’t understand. But the only thing you learnt is that Alex lives in Monaco and there people speak French and you didn’t know about that. That’s when you see his messages. You blushed by reading them. You got so nervous. Lando was flirting with you that was obvious but you couldn’t believe he was flirting with you like why? Out of all the girls that come to see races, why you? You bit your lip replying.
‘Oh hola pretty boy. Sorry I didn’t see it till now. And sorry again for breaking your phone. Funny both phones still work somehow jaja’
You didn’t know how to approach and English man. Of course you flirted with guys before but you know, with the same culture and slang and social context. This is so different. You didn’t want to come off as rude or whatever.
‘How brave you are to give your heart to unknown person 👀’
You didn’t know if that was actually considered a tease but you were trying at least.
You jumped scared when Franco out of nowhere hugged you from behind almost screaming in your head.
“Al fin te encuentro amiguita. En qué andas? Cambiándome por gente linda y famosa?” (He said hi and what you were doing “charging me for more pretty and richer people?”) that made you laugh and roll your eyes.
“Ojalá. Lamentablemente me tocó ser tu amiga y no puedo salir” you joked about how unfortunately you were his friend and you couldn’t run away. That made him room his eyes. He joined the conversation and met Alex as well. You talked for a few more minutes till Alex Albon came back and so we started going down the stairs all together. Alex headed to the Ferrari building and another girl said bye to Lily and Alex. She said it was Carlos’ girlfriend Rebecca. All of them were so beautiful. You were in love.
You and Franco were chatting about what the meeting was all about when you heard someone scream from afar.
“Wait guys! Franco! Alex! Y/n!” When you all turned you found lando coming to you. Franco looked at you with one brow raised, strange about how Lando knew his best friend’s name. “Sorry guys, I just wanted to say goodbye. We’re not gonna see each other until Mexico” he said weirdly and nervously . That wasn’t the usual Franco thought. He looked at Alex who looked at him the same. Lily looked at you with question marks on her eyes. You smiled at Lando. Your heart is racing. He gave everyone a hug. And you were last. You didn’t know what to do in this situation. You didn’t understand what he was doing. When he hugged you a paper fell on the floor. So when you two splitted he picked up the little paper.
“Here you go” he said and handed it to you so you took it suspicious. “Alright bye guys! Take care!” He waved, running again into the orphanage building. You saved the paper on your jeans and played it cool.
“Okay that was weird and nice at the same time” Franco said, making all of you giggle.
(…)
After leaving Franco at his room and spending some time with him just chatting and drinking mate, you decided to come to your room to rest as well. All of the feelings you felt have left you exhausted. You were so happy for franco. So proud. You could feel your heart explode.
You had a shower. You needed to take out all of the weight of the day from your body. Relax for a while. By yourself listening to a piano playlist you found on Spotify. Dark academia theme. You loved it. After a few minutes you were packing and preparing all of your stuff because tomorrow you headed to Mexico. You were gonna be with franco until the Brazil race. And then going back home to Argentina.
When you grabbed your jeans, the ones you wore today, you remembered the paper piece lando handed to you. You know it wasn’t yours but your intuition just followed along with his play. You unfolded it and smiled.
‘Wanna chill out and watch cars for a while?’
That’s what the paper said and under the question was his hotel and room number. He didn’t answer your messages. And you thought this was like the most romantic thing. Like not using phones and sneaking into hotels. And keeping it a secret. Like a wattpad story you used to read when you were a kid about Niall Horan. Or maybe are you just crazy? Whatever.
You hesitated whether to go or not by the time it was. But you had nothing to lose. He offered and maybe this one gonna be it. Maybe you wouldn’t meet Lando Norris like this or any other way ever again so.
You decided to take some candies you had in your bag and that was it. You felt really bad about not having anything else to take. Google maps indicated his hotel was the one next to the one you were so that was a coincidence that wasn’t in your bung card. You didn’t think much about it and just went straight to his room.
When you got to it you knocked on the door carefully. If he was asleep you didn’t want to wake him up.
Fortunately a few seconds later we opened the door with a sleepy smile and very surprised.
“I thought you wouldn’t come” he said letting you in. You giggled a little.
“Surprise! I’m not losing my chances here honey” you said teasing him and saw how he blushed closing the door.
“Is that a thing in Argentina like beating hot and a teaser?” He asked me to open his mini bar, take out two water bottles and hand one to you with a smile.
“Well I think it is, you know. We are all pretty charming” you said, taking the water and string in his bed. You saw the tv screen displaying the cars movie already in the middle of the story. You acted offended.
“So you invited me to watch cars but decided to watch it all alone?” You said arching a brow funny. He looked exposed and stood in front of the tv.
“Actually that was a trap because no one says no to cars cause it’s a great movie but I invited you to look at me” he said posing awkwardly making you giggle.
“Alright I’ll enjoy the view then” you said grinning.
You just enjoyed time together by chatting about Argentina and London and a few words. And trivial stuff but you laughed so much. He is so funny and laughed at all of your jokes. Like you matched each other’s energy. Or crazy.
It was time for you to go back to your hotel because it was already 2 am and packing wasn’t done. Neither you nor Lando had packed everything for tomorrow's flight.
“Would I see you around then? It was really nice talking to you” he said on the door looking down at you with sleepy puppies eyes. You were so cute and fun. He felt the butterflies. You made him so nervous. Giggling and blushing like a teenager. You smiled at him. You were the most precious thing he has ever seen.
You nodded “of course. I’ll be with Franco until the Brazil race. That’s when I go back to Argentina sadly. But maybe I’ll travel again for Abu Dhabi” you said softly, looking at him. God he was so beautiful. He nodded in response.
Silence took place between you two for a few seconds. You decided to end it by giving him a kiss on his cheek. “See you around landito, te me cuidas chico lindo” you said just like how you taught him earlier a little funny and waved at him heading to the elevator. He waved at you. His face red.
Was this the start of something new?
(…)
‘You looked beautiful in that orange hoodie you wore today’ he texted.
‘You only say that it’s because it’s papaya. Do you want me to be a papaya? You’ll have to work your ass off. I’m team Williams until franco gets a seat in another team’ you texted.
‘I’m on it darling. Get ready’ he texted.
‘Oh I’ve been ready my whole life for this moment’ you texted.
‘😍😍😍😍’ he texted.
‘👀👀👀👀’ you texted.
——————————————————————————————
Hope you liked it 💌 my inbox is open if you have any idea! Send your requests!
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lhswon · 2 days ago
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CRAZY TIPS = CRAZY FEELINGS { l.hs }
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: wherein, heeseung is a player, a fuck boy, and a rich one too which is all what y/n hates about a man. y/n in contrast is a broke college student who barely makes a living to pay up her rent and college tuition. despite years of being in the same university as heeseung, they never had any interactions until the day heeseung finally laid his eyes on y/n who works on the counter at some nightclub and started leaving her with some crazy cash tips.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: yandere!lee heeseung x tsundere!fem!reader
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: non!idol, enemies (one sided) to lovers troupe, kinda slow burn, teeth-rotting fluff, heeseung is a softie, you and enha are in the same age for the sake of the plot
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: lots cursing, suggestive scenes (mdni!), fighting, drinking, smoking, mention of substances, family issues, mention of SA, display of dominance and possessiveness, heeseung is always jealous (lmk if i missed any!)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙘: unknown (as of now :D)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: whoop whoop. wrote this au the moment i saw that video of hee drinking whiskey in a party :D man he was HOT i couldn't stop myself from making this. ALSO BIG NOTE, none of this reflect the idols mentioned in real life. this is only a FICTION and for entertainment purposes only.
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𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲
the loud music and people's chaotic cheering and murmuring were the ones that welcomed heeseung and his friends, along with the mixed smell of alcohol, perfumes, and smoke from cigarettes. it was already 2:00 am but it seemed a bit more early for the people inside the club, the energy was just insane.
as they walked to find their own spot, heeseung constantly sees people making out on the spot which made him smirk a bit. his initial plan was to find someone to hook up with tonight. it was their midterm interlude after all, he needed to relax and he wanted to start by hooking up.
"i'll order us some drinks, what do you guys want?" jake remained standing while the rest of them sat at the circular couch.
"i want just want some rum." sunghoon said. jay said he wanted the same thing.
"sunoo hyung and i will just have some whiskey." jungwon followed, raising his left hand up and pointed to sunoo next to him.
"what about you, seung?" jake asked.
"just get me some scotch, please and thank you." heeseung said and jake nodded before leaving.
while jay and sunghoon was talking something about their academics, sunoo and jungwon was just chatting why their youngest, niki, recently failed his long test and have to go through intensive tutoring as of the moment.
heeseung on the other hand wandered his eyes around and when he catched a glimpse of jake on the counter, he followed him using his eyes and his breathing hitched when he saw your angelic face giving small smiles to jake as he leans in to tease you.
"come on, do you really have to work tonight? i can pay your manager so he would let you drink with me." the man in front of you insisted. you subtly gave him a 'are-you-fucking-serious' look before brushing his statement off with an awkward chuckle.
"i'm sorry sir, but we are currently short on staffs so everyone needs to play their parts." you gave him a small smile before handing him the bottles he ordered.
"oh come on, don't call me sir. don't act like you do not go to the same university as me." jake chuckled sexily which made you secretly scoff.
you have to admit, jake is attractive, hot even, but he's just way out of your league. he's hot, he's rich, he's an academic achiever, and lives almost a perfect life, plus he's a play boy which is a big no no for you. he's just everything you hate about men.
"i can't jake, i have to work. now, please do get off the counter, i have other customers to serve other than you." you said bravely and gave him a fake smile which made jake smirk. your feisty attitude just turns him on.
after successfully shooing away jake sim, you suddenly felt eyes watching you. you wandered your eyes around and you choked on air when you realize that the pair of eyes watching, and staring at you darkly was heeseung's. one of your schoolmate and friend of jake.
the way heeseung stared at you darkly made you panic. his piercing eyes never leaving you even before you saw jake put down the drinks they ordered. you're like a prey, recognized by the predator. he only diverted his gaze when jake called him, handing him his drink. you too, were nudged by your co-worker.
"you okay?" red asked. she's your co-worker, also your work buddy. you nodded and cleared your throat.
"if you're tired already, you should rest. you're about to end your shift anyways." she suggested while you nodded.
you chatted with her a bit before going to the staff room to change, get your things, and time yourself out from work. the moment you exited the club using the back door, you immediately hugged yourself due to cold. you could see the smoke coming out of your mouth as you breathe. not even the padded jackets could easily warm you up in this cold weather.
you walked through the parking lot to find your second-hand car when you saw two shadow beside your car, making out. it made you mentally scoff, out of all places, why beside yours?
it was cold and already late, you have no choice but to walk towards your car. as you finally get close to the scene, you yet again saw those familiar piercing eyes from heeseung when he watched over you while still kissing the girl in front of him. since the girl was leaning on your car, you couldn't really go without her getting off first so you coughed awkwardly.
"oh, sorry!" the girl squeeled.
finally, they stopped kissing and the girl giggled, as if she's happy that someone had just caught her making out in the parking lot. heeseung on the other hand stayed silent and watched over you intently.
"i'm sorry." you said politely as you bowed your head before moving to open the door of your car. you were about to head inside when you heard the girl murmured something.
"this car is trash, right hee?"
your eyes twitched from what the girl said. slowly, you turned to her with a small smile.
"well look who's talking, you'll just be as dirty as a trash when this man throws you away like a garbage after using you." you said before getting inside your car and starts your engine.
the girl was shocked while heeseung smirked at your attitude. without knowing, you just picked heeseung's interest, and it was the on switch for his yandere era to begin.
check out the chapter 1 here
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lehnsherrrr · 2 days ago
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Let’s talk about the writing of Charles Xavier.
Okay, so we all hate the way everyone turned on Charles in DP, right? But it’s not based on nothing, you gotta hear me out rn.
Charles means well, and does mostly well, but he’s still an idiot, he’s still a man.
Yes he does so much good work for the school and for mutants, he lost everything over and over again, but he isn’t perfect.
No one is perfect, and I think the writing and James mcavoys acting manages to make such a human portrayal this way.
Hes not the golden boy, he’s not the shining hero, he has many sides just like a real person.
Of course he’s mostly wonderful, his deepest desire is to enact peace. As child he took in Raven without a second thought, a time in our development when we tend to be less empathetic. You’ve seen the way he cares for Erik and the others, he absolutely means it.
But it’s those little imperfections that make him such a beautiful character.
He’s can be cocky, certainly when he had just gotten his PhD, I now this brat was the top of his class and smug about it.
He’s also allowed to be selfish, he wants Raven, he wants Erik, he wants things desperately.
And sometimes he may have made mistakes when blinded by his ambitions.
Accidentally outing Hank? Kinda shit. Using his powers to make that guy get in the car? Unnecessary.
But he’s allowed to be this way, the writing allows it, and James Mcavoy portrays it perfectly.
This is how you write a character.
He isn’t always that shining beacon of hope, especially in dofp.
Anyone could’ve taken Charles character of “Leader of the xmen, strives for world peace” and made him an absolute angel all of the time. But people don’t work like that.
Charles Xavier gives me the vibe of someone who was an absolute menace during educational years, maybe even a dickhead.
I can see him saying some pretty idiotic shit to people that maybe he was trying to flirt with, maybe even making people feel bad about themselves.
Bro might have even been a bully in the perspective of some; this dashing clever guy who always knows what you’re thinking.
Now I don’t think he was actually a bully, he is a whole nerd after all, but maybe to those even nerdier than him.
Can you imagine another, nerdier, student being like “I fucking hate Charles Xavier and his stupid fucking smug face, why does he have to be top of the class, I hate him.”
And Charles not giving a rats ass about that person.
And now he’s grown, right from the day of getting his PhD, when he met Moira, he began to properly grow.
He’s always been kind at heart, even if his confidence had come across as arrogance. He’d never actually want to cause anyone upset, but it happens, and there are times where he could’ve helped that.
He tries so hard now, every stage of Charles life I expect he looks back on his past self with embarrassment. “God I was an idiot why did I do that, I’m far superior now.”
Charles is probably the most thoroughly human character in the entire franchise, and it rubs off on those around him. Even if none of them are actually human, and I think maybe that’s the point?
That’s the point of the movie. Look at how human the mutants are, and how human the humans aren’t. Of course Charles sees past that, whether he believes it or not, he wants everyone to be equal.
I’m sure you already knew all of this, but people really like it when I yap about the old gay men, so here <3
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luci4theminorannoyance · 4 hours ago
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Since halloween is coming soon... May I please request the cod men and reader are parents, and their child wants to dress up as their dad.
The cod men x fem reader
The cod men and reader were surprised by the costume that they made it look exactly like their uniform but smaller. Their child said to the cod men, "Look, dad, I'm you! Don't I cool ?" The cod men paused for a min and asked them, "Why do you wanna dressed up as me? You could be anything you want for halloween.... like a superhero." Their child said," But dad , I am dressing up as a superhero. The cod men and reader looked at each other in confusion. Their child ran tords him , gave him a big hug, and yelled out, "You save the world from evil people , your strong , kind , and so cool! Dad! You're a million times cooler than Superman and all the rest of the superheros.
YOU'RE MY SUPERHERO DAD!!!"
How would the cod men react?
Simon Konig and Keegan
💀👻😈👺Happy Halloween, Luci!!! 🎃 🦇👹🤡
a/n: YAY!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS! Also there’s some German translate in here :P and I could only get konig and ghost done before Halloween sorry!!
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Konig:
-oh his heart melts like butter, those big innocent eyes looking back at him from under a replica of his mask made it hard not to chuckle
-“oh kiddo, that’s very sweet.” Konig simply said, not daring to ruin his sons image of him as he simply surveys the details you must have put into it for your little son, from the well replicated arm guards to the stitched Austria patch you must have grabbed from his wardrobe while making it “your Mütterchen did this for you, ja?” konig sighed at the warm idea of you being home working away on such a costume for the son you and he adored so deeply
-he was snapped out of his little daydream by the sound of you walking up and the warm feeling of getting hugged tight by you, feeling his sons fingers still clasped onto his giant hand… and in that moment alone nothing mattered but the fact he was here, home, where he belonged
ghost:
-stays silent and hugs his daughter real close until she pulls away with a clearly visible grin from the crinkle of her eyes under the mask, a bit too big for her- but none the less
-“like you better without the mask, kiddo.” Ghost teases her, with no bite or hurt in his words, god forbid he tease her too hard or you would be tugging him by the ear to have a stern talking (not that he’d want to make his princess cry to begin with)
-he doesn’t voice his thoughts until long after she’s gone to bed, his hands wrapped around your waist as you simply cook and rant about your day
-“she really think I’m some big ol hero?” Simon asks with a chuckle, half surprised by the idea anyone could think that he could be a hero of any sort, a soft expression ghosting over his face when you nod and kiss him on the cheek
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ratatatastic · 3 months ago
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"Battle of Alberta, right? It was my first game: Calgary, Edmonton. We would play them in the preseason, and you know—trying to make the team I'd always be asking him to fight in preseason, always. I'd be runnin' my mouth—like, tryna fight the biggest, baddest guys, tryna make an impression.
And he would never fight me. He'd always tell me, like If you make the team, I'll fight ya. You don't have to worry about that, but I'm not fightin' ya preseason. And I totally respect it, I'm not gonna chase him down. It is what it is. He's established—I'm looking for my chance.
So I get called up, we're playing Edmonton in Edmonton: Battle of Alberta. [He's] over there on the other side, and it's like the coolest thing ever... you know, the buildup was crazy 'cuz I knew if the opportunity presented itself—if the game went the way I hoped it would, I would get an opportunity to fight him.
I remembered in warmups tryna skate by the redline initially just kind-of gettin' a feel for it—to see if I have to say something or whatever... He's got no bucket on, his big, bald head is glarin' around, he skates by the redline with the biggest smile on his face, and just gives me the biggest wink...
At that moment I knew Okay, he remembers. It's gonna happen at some point.
We were up 1, I think it was 2-1 going into intermission or whatever—Oh, no, I think it was 1-1 and we had just scored so the position I'm like Yeah, I don't know if I can fight him now because we have the momentum and we're winning the game. I don't want to lose a fight, then we lose a game and now I'm, like, never getting a chance again.
You kind-of gotta play the game within the game like [...] there's an opportunity to fight, and there's an opportunities where you shouldn't fight. Things weren't looking good, then they score and now we need a spark. I'm like Fucking perfect.
I just skate by their bench and I'm like It's time, big boy! He jumps out, we line up, and he goes We squarin' up or we goin' right away?
I'm like I'm not fuckin' squarin' up with you right now! We're goin' right away!
Drop em, we go right away, grab each other. I know he's a lefty so he's gonna let go—let's go of my right arm before he throws one. I threw one. Big boy went down, he jumped back up pretty quick. I don't know, I tell people all the time, I'm like I would've been in the league fuckin' 2 years earlier if there was good footage of this fuckin' fight!
For some reason—For some reason, the cameras cut out. I don't know if [he] had his cousins working the cameras or something that night, or if they're in the video room or what happened.
That was my first NHL game.
It's funny 'cuz Chucky was there—Chucky's there and he knows, he saw, he always laugh when I say that I would've been in the league earlier 'cuz he knows how things like that go. You get a little bit of energy and buzz around ya, and then kind-of momentum takes you a little bit further but unfortunate[ly], I missed that opportunity but I don't regret a thing.
[...]
The opportunity was there, I just—unfortunately, for whatever reason, the Hockey Gods said not yet." (Ryan Lomberg reminiscing over his first NHL game/fight) (x)(x) (please go watch the second link to see lombos giant smile as he tells this story jfc)
and other genuinely bonkers things to say about a hockey player in your first fight... like why did this need to be said like that...what
#ryan lomberg#lombo what the fuck#for the sake of clarity lombo does refer em by name but i think its funnier to obscure it in this case for people who dont know who it is#im sure edm and the bald description gave it away of who it is#but youll never fucking guess who this bitch is waxing poetic about#the wha the huh#HIM??????#WE'RE ROMANTICISNG THAT FUCKIN GUY??? REALLY????#i hate it here#this just in the guy you adore just said the horniest shit about the worst person you know#completely forgot they both were on the flames at the same time its been erased from my memory#(guy who does not pay attention to anything that is not pantr related)#but also matthew giggling about lombos little I WOULDVE BEEN HERE EARLIER IF THE CAMERAS WORKED RIGHT#how dare we lose him to calgary again HOW DARE#hello special little matthew cameo#the homoeroticism of it all#the inherent homoeroticism of hockey fights#why did he describe it like that#do you know what “scrappy ahler tries to make it big by fighting everyone in sight to impress staff and even challenges the enforcer vet#knowing itll make him look good if he does and said enforcer vet does not give him the time of day and goes i promise ill fight you when yo#get called up during the regular season not now and to which said scrappy ahler gets called up during the regular season and doesnt expect#much but gets completely surprised when the vet 1. remembers who he is 2. the promise he made and 3. even gives him a cheeky wink about it.#and the game is chippy from the start the ahler isnt sure theyll be able to fight hin but low and behold the hockey gods bless him#and he does he even gets to decide the rules AND wins it in one punch. the downside? none of it was filmed.#but the memory of that vets wink rings clear“ does to me man?#also. a classic case of hockey gods giveth. hockey gods taketh away.#sweetheart you can be gay AND also want your cool fight filmed honey youre asking for too much#yeah lombo does like calling men bigboy yeah that's a thing
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lesbianamalvada · 1 year ago
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its isolating being a lesbian in a 'queer' friend group like its just people talking bout men all the time. there is one girl whose lesbian but the only gay thing she talks about is her pride merch and heartstopper.
No because the way my one "lesbian" friend was obsessed mlm shows like Heartstoppers and Young Royals and later came out as an Achillean trans masc and traded the lesbian flag for the toothpaste one on their bookbag. Like it's fine to live ur truth but I feel like so young people use lesbian as like a transition phase to bisexual or trans and it makes me sad.
Also no tea no shade I love Alice Oseman but Heartstopper is boring AF! If it was straight no one would watch it, let's bffr! Meanwhile shows like First Kill and Warrior Nun can stand on their own with no representation, but get cancelled. It's because everyone only sees male characters as loveable and will obsess over them only, in my experience it's only sapphics who can appreciate well written female characters and not just call them "mother" or "girlboss" while they move on to write the next essay about their white male blorbo. I can't even be mad at authors and showrunners for not creating more complex female characters because it's not what sells!
And don't get me started on how many young gays can only express their identity through "pride merch" aka capitalism. and annoying memes like limp wrist, fruity, zesty. That's not their fault identity capitalism has messed up gen z in general, but it's still isolating.
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erisolkat · 10 months ago
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are we really still doing this
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theriverdalereviewer · 3 months ago
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everyone jumping to team kamala we will never experience true freedom in this country
#the democrats would vote for fucking hitler if he was a nice guy im convinced#allow me to break down this silly little “you can't focus on morals people's lives are at risk we have to vote blue to stop trump!!!” thing#first of all people's livelihoods are still at risk even when there is a democrat as president#did you forget about the immigration bill biden and harris signed? or you know a fucking genocide#and if people's livelihoods are at risk then shouldnt we vote with out morals? and you know not for the dems who are famously pro genocide#what is the point of voting if you can't vote for who you actually believe in?#and besides this what in this country was actually accomplished through voting? 99% of the progress made was done through violent resistanc#the only reason shit even made the ballot was because people showed they wouldn't accept things the way they are#which is exactly what you are doing if you vote for kamala harris AKA BIDEN'S FUCKING RIGHT HAND MAN#and you just sound like an extremely selfish person if genocide is not your red line#it just sounds like youre saying “yes they murdered palestinians in gaza :( BUT WHAT ABOUT US AMERICANS!!!!”#as if the democratic party has done anything to protect americans anyways. like my job as a voter is not to get the democrats elected#to mitigate damage caused by republicans. that is the fucking democrats job. it is their job to make me want to vote for them#and until they stop massacring men women and children in gaza they will never get my vote#the democrats could openly announce themselves as extreme bigots towards anyone that isn't a cishet rich white man (which they have before)#and you stupid asses will still tell us to vote for them. how evil do they have to be for you to finally consider another option?#and everyone else in the world gets to have other options but america noooo in america we can only have two parties or else you die#and when a democrat is elected and they send another 1 billion to israel i hope youre prepared to live with the blood on your hands#YOU WANTED THIS YOU ENABLED THIS YOU VOTED FOR THIS#the reality you won't face is that there are more options and you could vote for them but none of you are willing to take that risk#yet youre willing to risk the lives of palestinians the lives of transwoman the lives of every person that bitch threw into prison#you people are so hooked on stopping trump (the democrats meaner twin) youre willing to sacrifice everything you stand for#to elect someone who is just as bad as him but is “polite” while they do it. the democrats will never feel pressure to shift to the left#as long as you idiots continue to accept their move to the right. why should they stop the genocide in palestine when youve proven#you'd vote for them no matter what?#no one’s life improved from trump to biden and the same will be true for kamala but you can keep telling yourself they aren’t the same#i’ll be voting green bc that is what i believe in inshallah you grow a spine and do the same until we’re free from these two satanic partie#and dont tell us youll protest after she's elected what would the point be???#youve shown you'd put her in power no matter why should she respond to the pressure?
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aroaessidhe · 1 year ago
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2023 reads // twitter thread
This Doesn’t Mean Anything
NA contemporary romance about a sex-repulsed girl starting uni and meeting an upperclassman who hangs out in the same study room and coffeeshop as she does
struggling with her asexuality, new friendships, and harassment
#This Doesn’t Mean Anything#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#well.#I was overall enjoying the first half of this! then it went to shit lol#for one. WAY TOO LONG. but also feels like scenes would be very short then skip to the next day#I liked how the first half of the book was just developing the relationship as a friendship.#there’s a conflict at 50% and they literally are terrible to each other for almost the entire rest of the book#also the conflict of why they can’t get together feels manufacured.#he feels like he (21) is too old for her (18) and while i’m like…yeah I understand that im iffy about it too;#as the reader we know they’re going to get together anyway. so it just feels stupid. and made that way just to cause a conflict. which lasts#too long.#2)#then men are SO overprotective to the point it’s kinda. not creepy exactly but like why the fuck can none of these women go anywhere without#a dude accompanying them? the MMC even. when she tells him to leave her alone (because he rejected her) he’s still being all protective and#and calling her sweetheart like I started to actively dislike him. it’s like. borderline manipulative ‘nice guy’#THEN it threw in a SA at 80% or whatever which. a) can we not SA our ace characters and b) is just not handled well. it feels like an excuse#to make them hurt/comfort and then get together aka end their conflict. which. oof.#3)#‘i was looking up why i dont want sex and i saw the word asexuality but couldn’t find much else maybe the GSA could help’#you can’t use info-not-on-the-internet as a plot excuse when. there is endless info about that on the internet? I don’t think this is set in#2005? also she doesnt even go ask the gsa#while her sex repulsion is a significant part of the book actual references to asexuality are extremely brief and half of it is shoved into#the last chapters. and it’s almost entirely her being self hating and the LI affirming her#anyway I can see the INTENTION is good here; the quality of writing just makes it all bad#like maybe these things are the author's experience and that's fine. the way it's written is uncomfortable.#i can tell all the 5* reviews are people who have never read an ace book before. i promise there is better#i think there’s gonna be a companion sequel about her roommate being aroace which. I don’t have super high hopes for writing-wise but I gues#guess I'm interested
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gogoakechi · 9 months ago
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i will not become emotionally invested in how my classmates interpret an example of a short story in my creative writing class and i will not think poorly of them for having opinions i disagree with
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mishkakagehishka · 1 year ago
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Me when i dream of lil Mika but it's another nightmare
#and this one was so stressful bc like#i dreamt he was indeed my s/o but he was so controlling#like i was so stressed out felt like a trapped deer trying to gather a support circle so i can get away from him and he just kept ruining it#all for me. fucker learnt my native lang just so he could monitor my conversation with my family🤕#at one point he made me agree to marry him and dream me did just bc she was absolutely terrified of him????#girl just beat his ass ?????????#but like jokes aside i'm still in that ''just woke up from a nightmare'' mood so i still feel the adrenaline so i still get#why he was so scary like. i didn't know he knew my lang until he threatened me and told me i'm not allowed to speak to#my family anymore (bc i tried to get my dad to help me) and he was very. pushy with se.xual stuff#which like here's a fun fact but i'm a hypochondriac and i find it very hard to bond with people so i just kinda#accepted that i'm waiting for marriage (which is easier to explain than ''i need to REALLY trust you'' and agreeing to marriage is on that#level anyway) so when i TRIED to get him to stop by telling him i don't want to before i have a ring it did fuck-all to stop a guy#who was just like ''well we ARE getting married so what's the problem''😔😔😔😔#i woke up before he did anything tho which i'm thankful for bc every time i dream of being sa'd it feels like it reopens old woundd#and it takes me a while to actually calm down from it#i will say tho. it's a vibe to dream of thingd you consider hot in concept but terrifying irl (controlling/abusive men <3)#bc like you know in-dream it FEELS like it's real life i really didn't care that it was Mika and he's not real it was reality for me#and so it was terrifying i was crying every time i'd get a hope of getting away from him he'd ruin it for me very swiftly etc etc#like i'm still stressed out. but. the concept? like now that i know i'm safe and none of that was real? i just think o-kayyyyyyyyy#lmfjsjsnmemdksks i'm hopeless. but not really! confirmation i'm actually normal just like certain things from the safety of fantasy
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bluejaybytes · 2 years ago
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Frozen Wilds walked (one sidequest about lesbians) so Horizon Forbidden West could run (mandatory main quest lesbians. multiple sidequest lesbians. lesbian main character)
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britneyshakespeare · 2 years ago
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Yesterday I met this guy at my friend's birthday party, and he was talking at first to my twin sister but then later on I was chatting with him and he said "wait, you look younger than her."
And I was like "wait, do you know how old we are?"
"No."
"How old do you think I am?"
And he paused for a minute. Knowing I have a sister there who is my age which gives him not one but two observations to guess based on.
"18."
And I was AGHAST because I'm 23. I also don't think he could've thought I was a minor because there weren't any there but I did laugh because he still guessed as low as he could reasonably estimate, and I still get mistaken for a teenager all the time.
But then he guessed "how old do you think I am?"
And I was like "oh I really don't know. I don't know. I never know. I have no idea."
"Just guess. Guess something."
"Uh... uh... twenty... eight?"
"WOW. I'm not even old enough DRINK."
He turns 21 next week.
Man idk what to say. We both assumed you were older than me at least.
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gabseyoo · 4 months ago
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PROOF — SAKUSA KIYOOMI
content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.
note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p
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“Kiyoomi, do you go down on girls?”
The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.
He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a ‘huh’ was the only thing he could think of. 
“Just answer.” You poked his thigh with your foot. “It’s not like we’re strangers.” 
That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other. 
And this is a secret— but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didn’t want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. That’s the reason he didn’t bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did. 
“None of your business.” He answered sharply. 
You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, Kiyoomi, It’s just a question.”
“A question I won’t answer.”
“Why not?” You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly. 
Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others. 
“Just because.” He said, and before you could protest, he continued: “And, why are you asking anyway?” 
A smirk appeared on your face, “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Deal?”
“Never mind.”
“You’ll never know why I asked, then.” You said, casually looking at your nails. “Unless we make a deal.”
He shouldn’t accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things. 
So, he agreed. “Deal.”
Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. “Okay. Tell me.”
He sighed before answering honestly. “I do.”
Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, “Really?” The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?
“Yeah.”
“Are you serious? You go down on girls?” You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. “You?”
“I already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?”
Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.
“A fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because he’d rather die than put his mouth there.”
What the fuck?!
“Let me see that.”
In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. It’s not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, and—to his misfortune—he couldn’t help but read them.
Now he wished he had never done it. 
In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomi’s ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask on—that one was actually funny, but he wouldn’t say that out loud—, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best. 
But the question here is, did you think the same?
“You actually believe this crap?” He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned. 
“Kiyoomi, it’s just a TikTok. Of course, I’ll believe it.” You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. “I’m joking, jeez.”
“I know it’s a just TikTok, but I still want to know.” He sounded serious. 
You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasn’t offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life. 
“Kiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. That’s why I asked.”
“But you didn’t believe me when I told you I did.”
“I did believe you.” He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didn’t buy your words. “I’m not lying. I believed you, but— I was just… shocked.”
“Why?”
“It’s just that…never mind.”
“Tell me.” 
You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.
“You’re… a little too special when it comes to cleanness and— where you put your mouth, you know?” You weren’t even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. “I’m not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that… yeah” You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down. 
Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didn’t care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasn’t going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him. 
“Yes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.” He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: “And I’m pretty good at it, I can assure you.”
You scoffed. “Are you?”
“I am.” Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: “You want proof?”
What happened next was a delight to his eyes. 
You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you. 
You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. “I have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.” You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting. 
The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of. 
This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take. 
“I wasn’t referring to that kind of proof.”
Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly. 
“This is weird.” You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard. 
“It is.” He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. “We can stop if you want.”
You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didn’t want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.
When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow. 
But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didn’t just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would. 
Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.
“Please, just do it.” 
He kissed the same spot again before smirking. “Let me just go get my facemask, can’t do this without it.” 
His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. “Don’t kill the mood.” You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh. 
He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “At this point that’s impossible.”
“I know.” You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily. 
As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomi’s eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was. 
“Don’t stare.” You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.
No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever. 
“Why not? You’re so fucking hot in all places.” 
Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. “You think so?”
The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes. 
“There’s no day when I don’t think that you’re hot,” He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. “Now that I just told you how crazy I’m for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.”
You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.
Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs. 
“God.” You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise. 
He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit. 
He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans. 
And fuck… those moans were heaven itself. 
He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth. 
Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasn’t willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth. 
Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didn’t think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 
“There, oh god, there.”
He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving  the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers. 
He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didn’t want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.
“Don’t hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?”
You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words. 
“Good girl.” He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy. 
This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy. 
“I’m close. Fuck! Don’t stop, please.”
Kiyoomi wouldn’t stop, he was sure of that.
It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friend’s mouth. 
Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation. 
He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience. 
You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldn’t give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, “And? How was it?”
You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, “I think TikTok and I owe you an apology.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re definitely not a zero.”
“I’ll be happy with yours alone.” He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, “Your opinion is the only one I care about afterall.” He added before finally kissing you.
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