#in my dream it was a movie and i was playing the older sister (blonde girl on the left)

[wileys-russo]

Could you write something for Alessia where reader is her sister and gets her first england call up. I feel like less would be such a good older sister, slightly protective and over bearing but also just making sure reader is fitting in and has no trouble.

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

you'd been sat with a few of your club team mates watching a movie together at beths house when you'd gotten the call, shock written all over your face as you glanced down and saw the contact name.

"go! answer it." beth whispered with an encouraging nod as you hurried to your feet and raced out of the living room, hyper aware of the eyes watching as you did so.

accepting sarina's call the dutch woman got straight to the point. you'd seen her in the crowd at a few of the home games you'd started in, and sure enough she advised she'd been impressed with what she'd seen, offering you a spot at the next camp with the senior team.

she was honest in the chances of you getting minutes in the game against scotland were slim, but the opportunity to train with the senior team and absorb and learn was there and waiting as you eagerly accepted, sarina advising she would see you at camp before ending the call.

your first call was to your parents who were over the moon, promising they'd keep it quiet until the squad for camp was officially announced, though within a few seconds your phone lit up with a flurry of notifications as the news was put into the family group chat making you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

you stood to return back to your team mates but your phone lit up with another call, your sisters name and contact photo she despised flashing across the screen making you snicker with amusement at the unflattering 0.5 angle of her with bed hair and a scowl in high definition.

"hi less." you greeted with a chuckle. "you still haven't changed my contact photo have you?" the blonde sighed knowingly as you laughed properly looking at it again.

"of course not, and i won't be anytime soon unless i take an uglier photo." you teased as she mocked you under your breath. "you're such a little shit. but anyway, why the hell did i have to find out about your call up from luca?" alessia scoffed accusingly and you didn't need to be on facetime to imagine the stern frown which would be plastered across her features.

"because no one in this family knows how to keep anything to themselves, you especially." you rolled your eyes, sending a smile and a thumbs up to beth who poked her head in to check on you, the older girl sending you a warm smile back and retreating to the living room.

"i should have been your first call, i'm your only sister and i'll be at camp too. your first call up to the senior squad is a huge deal!" alessia lectured before dropping tone and congratulating you, the two of you having imagined for years what it would be like if you ever made the senior team together.

you were disappointed not to make the world cup roster but having the extra time to focus on football with your club had benefited you immensely in other ways, and you just needed to consistently remind yourself that everything happened for a reason.

you'd started off your professional career with a short term contract at bristol city, and after a year of starting and a semi successful season you were offered a three year contract with manchester united which had always been your goal.

alessia had already known of the offer before you did of course, ella and mary having to practically hold her down to stop her calling to pressure you into accepting the moment she found out.

but none the less it was an offer too good to decline for any club, let alone your childhood dreams of one day playing for united coming true and to get the opportunity to play alongside and see alessia every day.

the two of you fought tooth and nail growing up as sisters did and always over the most ridiculous of things.

but regardless of that and the near five year age gap you were always close, your relationship only strengthening once alessia went away to college and you weren't living on top of one another anymore.

you'd only played a single season with united, most of it spent on the bench or as an impact sub, but you loved the girls and found yourself falling hard for manchesters charm.

which is why the loan had been quite the shock, no real warning given when the club accepted an offer from spurs on your behalf, both you and grace traded with the hopes of gaining proper game time and starting minutes under your belts.

alessia had kicked off the moment it went public, first at you for not telling her and then at everyone else who would listen to her frustrations which you knew mostly stemmed from a worry of how you would go moving to a different place and a different team all on your own.

only, you weren't alone. with grace by your side you adjusted easily into this new challenge in your life, you and the midfielder growing even closer than you were when you were at united, and now you both found no trouble calling each other a best friend, attached at the hip and practically inseparable.

"-i'll come and pick you up friday for dinner for mums birthday. i love you!" alessia confirmed, clearing pausing waiting for you to say it back. "don't you dare hang up and not say it back you little shit." your sister scoffed as you grinned, forever finding it all too easy to get under her skin.

"love you lessi, see you friday!" with that you hung up, hearing the girls in the other room start to argue over what to order for dinner as you took a moment to let it all sink in.

you'd finally done it.

~

"you've got your kits yeah? and the tracksuits, and the training ones, and your socks, and your cleats, and you need to be careful you're not wearing anything that isn't adidas branded if you're being filmed or there's pictures taken by the social media team-" your sister lectured over the phone as you rolled your eyes and flicked her to speaker.

"-then you'll get the schedule when you arrive but i'll show you where everything is anyway. if we're not roomed near each other i'll still come and find you every morning and we can have breakfast before training and i'll run you through the daily schedules-" you started to tune her out as you flicked through your closet, humming every now and then to appease her.

"-are you even listening to me?" you only hummed again, completely checked out of the conversation now as you wrestled to get your suitcase closed. "oh my god you've got me on speaker and you've left the room again like last time. OI!" you winced and zoned back in as she shouted loudly.

"no! i'm right here idiot. but i know you love the sound of your own voice so who was i to interrupt?" you chuckled, grunting as you sat on top of your case and finally got it closed.

“ha ha ha, very funny. what the hell are you doing anyway? why are you grunting and groaning are you working out right now?” your sister questioned. “no! im trying to close my case, which i now have!” you sighed victoriously zipping it up.

“you haven’t finished packing?” alessia shouted as you rolled your eyes. “less.” you warned, muting her momentarily as she ignored you and started to rant and rave about how you needed to step up and be an adult.

returning a few moments later you unmuted her, catching her mid story of something you really weren’t all that interested in.

“oh no less you’re breaking up I can’t hear you!” you spoke in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm as you scrunched a piece of paper and made glitchy noises with your mouth.

“seriously? you can’t even just say you don’t want to talk anymore? you have to make up some bullshit excuse and-“ her words fell short as you clicked the red end call button with a chuckle, tossing the ball of paper over your shoulder.

you watched the texts fly in from her, unhappy with your attitude and warning you needed to be mature on camp which you silenced with a roll of your eyes, interrupted by your security buzzer going.

“sorry don’t want any.” you grinned as grace’s head appeared in the security camera, the girl pulling a face and flipping you off as you buzzed her in. “cars here! im not comin up, you’re comin down. hurry!” the brunette warned as your eyes widened and you rushed about making sure you had everything.

you jolted in surprise as a knock sounded on your door, flinging it open and frowning when grace stood there with a grin. “aih ya dickhead the car isn’t here yet it’s not even ten, too easy!” your best friend laughed pushing past you as she dumped her own bags by the door.

“you are such a wind up.”

~

“you nervous?” you asked grace, tapping her knee to gain her attention as the car turned into st georges park and she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

“nah not really. you shouldn’t be either! we wouldn’t have been called up if they didn’t think we wasn’t ready, and your sister is here anyway to look after ya.” grace reminded with a smile, pushing your head with a wink as the two of you rough housed for a bit before the car parked up.

“cameras rollin. how’d i look then?” grace fluttered her eyelashes making you grin. “ugly as ever. come on hillary!” you slid out of the car before she could retaliate, groaning at the nickname.

you knew from the way your phone had been blowing up that your sister was already here, having arrived earlier this morning with lotte and beth.

so it wasn’t any real surprise when you’d hardly stepped a foot out of the car and she appeared, hovering at the top of the stairs with ella plastered to her side who sent you and grace a grin and a wave.

both of you grabbing your bags you flashed a smile and fist bumped the media staff who were filming entrances as you and grace ascended the stairs.

“ready for your first camp girls?” you and grace both echoed back a yes, grinning at the camera before someone wiggled their way in between you both and slung their arms over your shoulders.

"big sister gonna look out for you then?" the staff laughed as alessia beamed and squeezed both you and grace tightly. "well she's got big shoes to follow, we've been working on her backheel." alessia joked, the camera crew moving toward the next van which pulled up which was full of the city girls.

"less get off." you huffed, grace wiggling away and tackling ella in a hug, the taller of the two dragging them inside in a headlock as your sister only gripped you tighter.

"absolutely not, roomie." the older girl grinned smugly as your face fell. "oh you've gotta be kidding me!" you groaned throwing your head back in annoyance.

"she's messin with you, we don't share rooms anymore on camp." a new voice sounded behind you as you managed to throw off alessia's arm and charge toward them. "mazza!" you cheered happily, launching at her as she caught you with a grunt.

"baby russo!" the girl cheered in the same tone before dropping you back to your feet. "just my actual name is fine thank you." you shoved her playfully with a roll of your eyes. "not this camp or any camp after, that is your name now. or we could go with B.R for short?" mary teased tugging on your ears.

"i'm quite fond of her childhood nickname." alessia chimed in with a smirk as you sent her a murderous glare. "don't you dare, or i'll spill one of your secrets. and we both know that i have plenty of them to choose from!" you smirked back as her face fell.

"rat." alessia muttered, nodding for you to follow her as she grabbed your bags and headed for the elevator to show you to your room.

"we'll talk later. you spill some of those secrets and theres more where this came from kid." mary whispered, sliding a tenner into your pocket with a pat and a wink.

~

you were mid dream when you first heard it, the repeated thudding which seemed to leak into your subconscious as suddenly you realized you weren't dreaming anymore and someone was knocking furiously on your door.

raising your head from your pillow you blinked groggily and rubbed your eyes so hard you saw stars, stumbling out of bed and tripping over the corner of the duvet where your foot got stuck in bed.

hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt the knocking stopped for a moment and you paused, unsure if you'd imagined it.

"for god sakes hurry up!" nope, didn't imagine it.

"what?" you retorted grumpily, mornings your least favourite time of day as you rubbed your face and your sister barreled in past you without so much as a greeting.

"go away alessia its too early!" you groaned, shutting the door and trudging back toward your bed. "you haven't even hung anything up? for god sakes this is a hotel this isn't your bedroom at home you can't just fling shit around and leave your mess everywhere like a tornado!" your sister lectured with a click of her tongue, busying herself picking things up and putting them away.

"i've not even been here for twenty four hours yet less surely that stick up your ass is gonna sting something terrible by the end of the week?" you grumbled, sliding back into bed as your sister shot you a filthy look at her shoulder.

"hilarious. but you have to be professional here and set a good reputation for yourself, especially your first camp. that means up on time, early for breakfast, one of the first to the pitch, extra reps in the gym-" you tuned her out, quite the expert at it by now, eyes slipping closed again.

"urgh get off!" you moaned as a weight settled on top of you, wheezing slightly as alessia made herself comfortable sitting on your back. "you have...forty six seconds to get up yourself before i drag you out of this bed by your ankles and we both know i will!" your sister threatened seriously, checking her watch.

"you're so fucking annoying. this is worse than when we both lived at home, at least then you also used to hate mornings!" you exhaled deeply, star fishing out on the bed as she wriggled and purposefully bore more of her taller form into you.

"twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." the blonde counted down ignoring your statements. "can hardly get up myself with you on top of me can i bigfoot?" you snapped, alessia rolling off of you and squealing as your leg kicked out to push her off the bed.

"right! three, two, one." and with that she flung the covers off, grabbing your ankles and true to her word yanking you out of bed, your body hitting the carpeted floor with a thump as she loomed over you.

"get dressed. if theres no pancakes when we get to breakfast i will be holding you personally responsible and you will pay for it!" your older sister warned, grabbing your top in hand and hauling you up to your feet, shoving a pile of clothes into your hand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

"stop manhandling me hagrid!" you snapped as alessia chose to ignore you, making your bed up and getting herself comfortable on top of it, scrolling through her phone as you snatched yours from the nightstand.

"hurry up!" you were trying to brush your hair back into something more presentable, face still puffy from your half asleep state as her fist thumped loudly against the door.

with a roll of your eyes you gave up, flipping your head and tying your hair up into a messy bun. poking at the bags under your eyes with a sigh, the impatient knocking continuing as you quickly covered them up with a few dabs of concealer.

"i hope you break your hand." you spoke in a monotone as you flung the door open, barely having ten seconds to step outside before her hands grabbed the collar of your jumper and dragged you out of the room.

"let go less! i'm not four years old trying to run away in a shopping centre for god sakes i don't need you to hold my hand i am an adult." you huffed, ripping your hand away from hers and storming off ahead to the elevator as alessia hung back for a second to wait for ella to catch up.

"might need this though? and everyone says you're the genius in the family." alessia held up your key card which was the only thing that allowed you to enter and exit the elevator, holding it out of your reach.

"say sorry for being so grumpy." alessia demanded with a smug smile as you tried to stretch for the card without luck, your sister always having had a head or two of height on you with her ridiculously long limbs.

"no! didn't you make a big song and dance about not being late for breakfast? because the only one making us late is you!" the older girl groaned as you punched her half heartedly in the stomach, snatching the key as she doubled over.

"mary she's tryna kill me!" you hid behind the taller keeper using her body as a shield as she joined you with grace in tow, alessia sending you daggers from across the elevator as mary chuckled but remained a nice protective barrier between the two of you anyway.

"alessia!" you protested as your sister snatched your plate, dumping what you'd already chosen and picking your food for you, pushing you away every few seconds with her spare hand as you tried to intervene.

"why are you such a mum? i can pick my own food!" you demanded which was dismissed with a flick of her hand, too busy chattering away to ella to pay you and your whinging any attention.

"you have to fuel your body properly and that means a balanced breakfast." the blonde lectured, holding your plate hostage in her hands as she walked off.

with your food held captive you were forced you to follow her as you sent grace a pleading look who only smirked and shook her head, sat at a different table than the one your sister sat down at.

"baby russo! where have you been hiding then? i missed you." lucy pulled you into a hug as you took your seat beside her and across from alessia who finally slid your plate over to you. "hiding from her!" you grumbled, stabbing your eggs and shooting alessia a glare who smiled and wiggled her fingers at you in a sarcastic wave.

you sighed and glanced down at your plate which granted was loaded, but not with everything you'd have put on it thanks to your sisters apparent new nutritionist qualifications.

your face lit up as mary joined the table, subtly dumping two hashbrowns and an extra piece of bacon onto your plate with a wink as she sat on your other side squishing you between her and lucy as the three of you fell into conversation.

"oi baby russo, sarina wants to see ya." you'd finished eating as millie suddenly appeared, nodding for you to follow her as your face paled a little, head swirling with a hundred worries of why she might want to see you, all of them negative.

"i can take her mills." your sister stepped in with a reassuring smile as millie headed off to grab breakfast. "come on." she stood with a flick of her head as mary squeezed your shoulder and stacked your empty plate on top of hers.

following after your sister you didn't speak a single word, holding your breath until you stepped out of the cafeteria and the noise and chatter of the team ceased, exhaling shakily.

"come here." your sister spoke softly and opened her arms as you settled into them, your own wrapping around her torso as she embraced you, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i know all you can think of is bad reasons why she wants to see you, but if you freak out and focus on all of the what ifs then you're going to ruin this opportunity for yourself before we even start." alessia murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"she probably just wants to check how you're settling in and go through the motions with you. so stop overthinking because i can hear your tiny little brain going into a meltdown." she teased lightly as you cracked a smile.

she let you go but her arm slipped over your shoulder drawing you into her side as she walked you down to the office, pausing a couple doors down and turning you to face her.

"i love you, sarina loves you, the girls loves you. this is your moment, grab it with two hands and make the most of it yeah? show them why you got called up and why you've earned a place on this team." her hands settled on your shoulders as if trying to charge you up with confidence as you nodded.

she might be overbearing, overprotective and over dramatic at the best of times. but alessia would always be your big sister and secretly, you'd never tell her this, without her you wouldn't be half the human let alone the footballer you were, and it flooded you with relief to take the plunge into this next step of your career with her by your side.

again you didn't dare to tell her that for fear of the relentless teasing that would follow. but you didn't need to anyway, she already knew, because sisters always know.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #alessia russo

[latristereina]

Topol was 5 years old and attending kindergarten at Tahoe Lake Elementary School when one of the film’s scouts chose her to audition. “They were looking for a particular look,” Reno resident Ginny Topol, BJ’s mother, told SFGATE. “She had dark brown eyes and brown hair, and the rest of the class was blonde and blue-eyed. They asked if I would bring her by for an interview.”

BJ said she auditioned for Coppola and Pacino, going up against “all these cute girls who had like their hair done and these dresses on with stage moms,” she recalled. “They were like real actresses.”

The Topols said that Coppola wasn’t looking for a professional actress to play Mary Corleone. Once BJ got the job, she spent weeks living and interacting with Pacino and Keaton during the day at the home they shared on the Fleur du Lac property prior to filming.

“My mother would drop me off in the morning, and I’d come home at night,” she said. “I spent the whole day playing family with Al and Diane. I thought my name was Mary. It was kind of a little bit of a dream world.”

“They were so, so kind. You know, Diane Keaton was so loving and so warm. I remember Al as my dad was super stressed because he was in character. Back then, I didn’t really get it. He had that brooding look. I remember having lunch and wondering why he wasn’t talking more.”

Ginny Topol said that by the time they started filming, her daughter was very comfortable with her actor parents, and especially with Coppola, who took a shine to her on the set. “There were never any tears, never ‘I don’t want to go!’ — just a really lovely experience,” Ginny said. “But it’s not all fun and games for the actors. It’s hours and hours and hours and retakes and sitting around when the sun wasn’t shining.”

“I spent a lot of time with Diane Keaton. I felt like her older sister,” Ginny continued. “I couldn’t say one bad thing. Al Pacino was not — I didn’t spend any personal time with him. He was a very intense character, very into his acting and, you know, very dark, and that’s what the movie was. He didn’t visit with the people on set, but he was very kind to my daughter — and that was all that mattered.” (x)

#the godfather #the godfather ii #mary corleone #michael corleone #kay adams #kay corleone #al pacino #diane keaton #francis ford coppola

[lionesses-lover]

Under the Stars - A. Russo

The one where you and your girlfriend share a magical night together with all your friends before your lives change forever.

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: for the purpose of this fic we are going to pretend that Alessia didn’t leave UNC and she stayed until graduation. Hope you enjoy :)

When you were younger, you used to dream about your perfect prom. You grew up with 3 older sisters, so you got to see all of them have their perfect proms. You spent hours dreaming about your dress, imagining what your hair and makeup would look like, and most importantly, thinking about your ideal date.

Unfortunately, that never happened.

Being a football player meant that you had to make sacrifices. So, when you had an international match on the same day as prom you knew what you had to do. You had to sacrifice yet another important moment in your life. Football was the best thing in your life, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to miss the one night you had been dreaming of for years.

However, the universe seemed to have a plan for you, because when you graduated the University of North Carolina, you finally got to have the night you had been waiting for.

———

It was going to be the perfect day. You and Alessia had spent all day together, relaxing in your shared dorm room and rewatching the Harry Potter movies for the millionth time. 

Now, you were in your best friend Lois’ dorm to get ready with her, while Alessia was getting ready with Lotte in your room. It was the perfect plan. Lois had agreed to do your hair and you and Alessia both wanted to have a grand reveal when you showed each other your outfits.

"So, y/n," asked Lois, sitting cross-legged on her bed as you sat in-front of the mirror putting the finishing touches to your makeup look, "are you excited to spend the night with Less?”

"I actually don't think I've ever felt more excited than I do now," you laughed, "I remember being so jealous looking at the photos of my sisters at their proms because I never got one, but now I do and I get to go with the love of my life. It's going to be wonderful."

"Gross, you two are so in love it's adorable and disgusting at the same time," Lois said after pretending to vomit at your love-struck words, "how are you feeling about everything changing in the next few months then?"

Ah, yes, you thought to yourself. The one thing you had been dreading for the last few years was now imminent. You and Alessia were no longer going to see each other everyday or play for the same team. Your upcoming graduation meant that you were both leaving UNC to turn professional in England. However, Alessia had secured a contract with Manchester United, whereas you had recently signed for Arsenal with Lotte. So, you were going to be going from living in the same room as your girlfriend to living hours away from her.

“It’s going to be tough", you replied, turning round to face Lois, "but I know its going to be fine. We trust each other and we are both going to be doing what we love for the teams we love."

"I think you two will be fine, I've had to watch how in love you with each other you are for the past two years and if any couple can survive playing on two different teams it's you guys," smiled Lois comfortingly.

"Thanks Lois," you said, before you turned back around and finished applying your mascara, smiling happily thinking about the beautiful blonde in the next-door room.

———

About an hour later, you and Lois had finally finished getting ready. You were so happy with how your dress looked, it was just how you had imagined. You had gone shopping with one of your older sisters a few months ago when she had flown out to visit you, and you had managed to find your dream prom dress. You couldn't wait for Alessia to see it.

There was a soft knock at the door and you instantly knew it was your girlfriend and Lotte coming to pick you and Lois up before you all walked the short distance to the building where the prom was being held.

You rushed to open the door and were met with the most breathtaking sight you've ever seen. Alessia.

"Lessi you look gorgeous,' you said, looking into her beautiful blue eyes as she stared at you so much love, admiring your outfit.

"You look absolutely beautiful my love," she replied.

"Ok you guys can be in love later," interrupted Lotte, "come on let's go before we are really late."

You and Alessia laughed as Lotte and Lois ran off ahead of you, eager to avoid being stuck third and fourth wheeling you both.

Alessia gently reached out and took your hand in hers, grinning happily at you as your followed your best friends to prom.

"I'm so happy to be going to prom with you Lessi, it's going to be even better than my dreams," you said excitedly.

"I love you so much, y/n," she responded, still staring at you, "you're honestly the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

"So cringy but so cute," you chuckled, "I love you too Lessi."

———

The prom was wonderful. It was being held in one of the large event spaces at UNC and everyone ws having a wonderful time, enjoying their last few days at the college before being thrown into the world of work after graduation next week.

The room had been decorated with UNC colours and was filled with balloons and sparkling lights, making it seem like a world away from the college you had spent the past four years of your life at.

You were with your teammates on the dance floor, dancing crazily to your favourite song, when you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, turning you around.

"Hey pretty girl," said your girlfriend, giving you a lopsided grin, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you began to slowly dance with her, before saying, "I'm having so much fun Lessi, this is the best night ever."

You both smiled at each other, before Alessia leant down and placed a loving kiss on your forehead, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that filled the room.

———

After a few more hours of dancing, singing and eating a delicious meal with your friends and teammates, people were slowly beginning to leave, heading to after-parties or going back to their dorms.

You and Alessia had planned to go back to Lotte's dorm with her and Lois to watch a few movies before bed, however they had decided to go to Claudia's afterparty. So, your girlfriend once again took your hand in hers and led you out of the prom, taking you on a small walk to your favourite spot on campus. The football pitch.

You both lay down on the grass, watching the stars shining above you, and began to reminisce about your time at UNC. You talked about the first time you met - at the orientation with the rest of your team, the first time you realised your friendship may be more than a friendship - after winning an important match and watching as her eyes shone as you danced around the changing room. You talked about the first time you went on a date - neither of you knew your way around the campus that well so you ended up watching movies and eating takeout in your dorm, but nevertheless it was perfect.

You also talked about the future.

"We're going to be alright, aren't we Lessi?" you asked quietly, cuddling into her as you both continued to stare at the stars, her hands stroking your hair softly.

"Of course we are gorgeous," she replied confidently, "we will see each other on our days off and it will make us value our time together even more than we already do. Manchester is only a few hours away from London by train and we can call everyday. It's not like we are going to be playing in different countries."

You laughed gently, "Thank you baby, I just needed a bit of reassurance. I'm quite nervous about playing at Arsenal without you."

"I know y/n," she said, "but you will do great, I'm sure you'll win loads and score loads. Except when you play United. You'll lose then."

You laughed again at her confidence and love for Manchester United.

"Don't underestimate the Arsenal baby, we're the best club in the world."

"No way," she chuckled, shaking her head while pulling you in further to cuddle each other more, "United is the best. Always has been, Always will be."

"Keep dreaming," you replied, before slowly leaning up to gently kiss her.

In that moment, lying in the middle of the UNC football pitch, cuddled up with your girlfriend in prom dresses, staring up at the beautiful stars covering the sky, you knew that everything was going to be alright. As long as you had Alessia you could do anything, even if she didn't support Arsenal.

———

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso one shot #muwfc #muwfc imagine #muwfc x reader

[doriandrifting]

Mothergate: Alice Creel is B*lly Hargrove’s Mother

Forewarning that I hate Billy, but Murray Bauman said to follow the rabbit hole no matter where it leads, and who am I to doubt him? 🕳🐇

Let’s just get the big thing out of the way first:

Alice Creel died! …Right?

But that leaves a lot unexplained, including when Nancy asks Victor, “Who played the music?” Victor never gives us a straight answer. Which I think gives us a lot of room to speculate that Alice was fighting Henry and changing the music. Let’s also note that Alice’s phrase was, “It’s like a dream,” and the song that saves Victor is “Dream a Little Dream.” This seems like a subtle clue from the writers.

So what happened?

I think that Alice “betrayed” Henry, like El, and refused to join him in his quest for power which included killing their parents. This is the memory that makes him “angry and a little sad.” He uses it to harness his power. If this is the case, Alice’s eyes were bleeding, not because she was dead, but because she exhausted herself fighting Henry. We also see El’s eyes in the same state when she fights Henry. To me, it seems she somehow managed to fake her death:

There’s also some strange inconsistencies reported about her death:

There’s no way Alice was meant to be older than our main characters, and at least 3 years older than Henry. They show her running around on a playground, and overall acting and dressing like a little kid. And not in a struggling to mature way—just genuinely a child. What that means about her fake death, I’m not exactly sure, but something’s definitely off. (Sidenote, but it’s also weird that there’s issues with both Will and Alice’s 15th birthday, right?)

Anyway, let’s take a look at the description of Billy’s Mother:

In terms of the other main theory that Karen is Henry’s sister, Billy’s mother’s physical description more closely resembles Alice. Alice has blue eyes and blonde hair. Karen’s hair is a mousy brown in the first season and her eyes are brown. Alice wears a hat with a blue ribbon when we first meet her.

The red flowers are such an interesting touch considering the Creel’s iconic door:

Another subtle clue might be that one of the only things we know about her is that she has a friend named Wendy. Wendy—another classic fairytale name. What a strange thing for them to tell us, when we don’t even know her name.

The biggest, and my favorite clue happens throughout all of Season Four:

Surfer Boy.

This is so on the nose it hurts. (I hope you read that in Will’s voice. You were meant to.) Billy was literally a Surfer Boy in California, and we see this first hand in the memory of his mother. Why call back to this for no reason?

In Season Four, Max is being tormented by visions of Billy shown to her by Vecna, the Cali Crew is in a Surfer Boy Van, and Nancy is piecing together a puzzle about a “grandpa murderer” and a red rose door that she’s seen before. It all adds up as the perfect reference to this specific scene.

Besides the references to the actual scene itself, there’s a big clue that we see in Season Two when Max is introduced, and again this Season with Eddie—the Micheal Myers’ mask. In the Halloween Movies, Micheal Myers is suffering from “the Curse of Thorn” (another reference to roses). In order to break the curse, he must kill everyone in his bloodline, and the one he really struggles to kill is his sister. (Parallels Henry trying to kill his whole family, but failing because of his sister.)

Lots of references to 20 in Season Four and, in H20, Micheal Myers has a sister that fakes her death and relocates to California! Go figure!

That also addresses the biggest issue with the Karen as Alice theory. It would make no sense for Karen Wheeler to stay in Hawkins, because she’d be at risk of Brenner taking her too if she was Alice Creel. How the Hargrove/Mayfield family ended up back in Hawkins sans Billy’s runaway mother is anyone’s guess, but there’s too many coincidences…and it could explain why Billy and Max were such strong targets.

And let’s not forget that the episode where we first see the memory of Billy’s mother is called “E Pluribus Unum" or “Out of many, one.” A direct nod to Henry’s secret identity in the title of the very episode that we meet a random woman who’s sheer memory is enough to bring down the Mind Flayer? That’s Alice Creel, babygirl.

#byler #bc I want y’all to see it sorry GSJSJKSJSKS #stranger things #fan theory #vecna #henry creel #alice creel #mothergate #TW fake blood #tw violence

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Trial By Fire

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Evidence, Emotions, Whatever

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

Michael David Weiss knew that he was going to be a lawyer. His parents had always commented that the amount Mike had complained and argued, the only thing he could be was a lawyer.  He was in Debate Club in high school and college, part of student court, played baseball with Frank and was infatuated with Abby.  

What he was expecting was falling for Frank’s little sister. Diane Adler was something that came out of left field. He came home from school during winter break and met up with his best friend.  Abby wasn’t going to be here for break as she was visiting family, so it was just he and Frank. Frank was making popcorn for the movie and grabbing a couple of beers. Mike was on his phone when a voice called out.  

“Hi Mike.”  

When he looked up, he saw a curvaceous blonde looking back at him. “Diane?” 

“Hey.” She walked, no, glided into the room and sat on the couch, checking her phone. Mike swallowed.  Diane was a scrawny kid, five years younger than himself, but she looked like a dream now.  Her long blonde hair had hung to her waist, her curves peeking under her knit sweater and leggings.  

Diane had made sure she looked good when she found out Mike was coming home. She had a crush on him since she was eight. She was eighteen now and grew into her long limbs and cornsilk hair. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, how Mike reacted to her. She smiled to herself. He might be five years older, but she was mature for her age.  

Or so she thought.  

Mike and Diane hid their affair from her brother and best friend. They would meet at shady motels whenever Mike came back into town, had sex, smokes weed, drink, whatever they wanted. Mike also introduced Diane to harder drugs, things he used to stay awake and study or bring him down to sleep. It was a vicious cycle that eventually destroyed their relationship.  

When Diane found out she was pregnant, she sent a letter to Mike to tell him. He hadn’t reacted well, calling her a slut, a whore. That she slept around and the baby couldn’t possibly be his. He ordered her to get rid of it.  But Diane couldn’t. It wasn’t her baby’s fault that its father didn’t want them. She kept clean and gave birth to a healthy baby girl.  She didn’t list Mike as the father because her shame took over.  She gave in to the darkness of her addiction and gave up hope of raising her little girl.  So, she left her with the two people she knew would love and care for her the most.  

Mike didn’t want to be associated with the baby. But he still went back and had fun with Diane. They got high together still, fooled around, although Mike was more careful now. And when Diane wanted Mary back, Mike made sure he provided the evidence so she never could.  

This turned out to bite him in the ass.  

He had a drunk night with Bobby Fuller and he told him everything. And he used drugs in front of Bobby, who had refused to get high with him for the sake of his career.  He thought, with the collaboration in destroying Frank’s image and relationship, that the comradery would continue. 

Until he saw Bobby, sitting in the gallery, waiting to be called as a witness for Frank and Abby.  

“Your Honor, I am not sure why Mr. Fuller was called as a witness as he has never interacted with the child,” Mike argued.  

“Whether or not Mr. Fuller has interaction with the child is not a testament to Mr. Weiss’s competency as a parent,” Andy said.  “Mr. Fuller can provide an insight into the daily life of Mr. Weiss since he was living with Mr. Fuller for the last couple of months.”  

The judge looked back and forth. “I’m going to allow it as Mr. Weiss has yet to prove that he is a fit parent.”  

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Andy said.  “We would like to call our first witness, Mr. Scott Evans.” Scott stood up and went to the witness chair. “Hello Mr. Evans. Can you tell me how long you have worked for Mr. Adler?” 

“Almost six years.”  

“And have you witnessed any red flags in Mary’s care?” 

“No.”  

“In your opinion, has Frank Adler been a model parent to his niece?” 

“Yes, I believe so. I mean no parent is perfect, but he does his best when it comes to Mary. She was four when I met her.  She loved her uncle so much. They have traditions when they are together, he calls every day when he is on the road. He makes sure she knows that she and his wife are the center of his world.”  

“What do you think of Abby?” 

“She is wonderful. She puts Mary first, much to the annoyance of Frank.” The room chuckles. “She would do anything for Mary.”  

“Thank you, Scott. No further questions.”  Andy sat down as Mike stood up.  

“Mr. Evans, have you ever seen Mr. Alder or Dr. Adler consume alcohol in front of Mary?” 

Scott frowned. “Occasionally, at home. When we go out to dinner, one of them does but the other stays sober to drive.”  

“At home, have you ever seen them drink more than, let’s say, two drinks in a night or do any other substances?” 

“Maybe after Mary has gone to sleep, we might drink a little more. Never anything else. Frank was clear when I was hired that he wouldn’t tolerate any drugs in the house.”  

Mike frowned. This wasn’t going his way. “Thank you, Mr. Evans.”  

“Alright, I want to speak to Mary alone,” the judge said. “As this is between three people, Mr. Evans, I would like to ask you to be her guardian as a witness.” Scott nodded, took Mary’s hand and started to walk her back to the judge’s office. But before they go too far, Mary let go and ran back to Frank. She threw herself into his arms. 

Frank kissed the top of her head. “It’s ok Nugget. Just be honest, ok?” 

“I love you dad.”  

“I love you too.” He let her go and Mary hugged Abby.  

“Love you mama.”  

“I love you too baby girl.”  She pushed her towards Scott. She stepped back and Frank took her hand. “Frankie,” she whimpered.  

“Its ok Cricket. She’ll be with Scott and she’s gonna be right back.” He led her back to their seats, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He spared a glance to Mike who grinned. “What a jackass,” he said under his breath.  

“Don’t Frankie,” Abby whispered. She looked at Mike, who wiggled his fingers. He wants a reaction in front of the judge.  

“I hate this, Cricket.”  

“I know.”  She leaned against him and closed her eyes.  The nausea came back, and she reached down for the ginger iced tea she had brought with her.  

“You ok, Cricket?” Frank frowned as Abby took a big sip.  

“Your child is misbehaving,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be ok.”  

Just then the door opened, and Mary and Scott came back.  Mary ran right into Frank and sat on his knee, hugging him around his neck. “Alight,” the judge said. “Mr. Barber, you had another witness?”  

“Yes, Your Honor. I would like to call Robert Fuller to the stand.” Bobby nervously patted his hair and walked to the front. “If it is ok with the court, I would like to invite Mr. Weiss to speak to Mr. Fuller first,” Andy asked. 

“That’s an unusual request but I’ll allow it,” the Judge said.  

Mike stood up and looked at Bobby. “Mr. Fuller, would you consider us friends, right?” 

“Yes.”  

“Have I ever said to you that Mary wasn’t my daughter?” 

“No.”  

Mike smirked. “Noting further.”  

Andy stood up. “Mr. Fuller, you know my client, Frank Adler.”  

“Yes.”  

“How did you meet?” 

“We met at training camp for the Boston Red Sox. We were rookies together.”  

“Friends?” 

“Yeah, we were friends. I was there when Frank had to take custody of Mary.” Bobby swallowed.  

“Is it true that you helped drug Mr. Adler in Las Vegas approximately six years ago?” 

Mike stood up. “Objection, relevance.”  

“Withdrawn. Mr. Fuller, when did Mr. Weiss come to stay with you?”  

“Three months ago or so.”  

“Any reason why?” 

“He said he needed a place to crash while he figured some stuff out.”  

“Is it true that you came forward on your own?” 

Bobby looked at Mike. “Yes.”  

“Why?” 

“I needed to be honest.”  

“Was there something weighing on you?” 

“Yes.”  

“Want to explain?” 

Bobby hesitated. “I – I heard Mike saying that he wanted to mess up Frank’s life. That he stole Abby from him, and he wanted to take away the only other person that he loved. He said he knew that he was Mary’s father but...” 

“But what, Mr. Fuller?” 

“I’d rather not say in front of Mary.”  

The judge understood. “Mr. Evans, can you sit with Mary outside of the court for a few minutes. We’ll call you back in a few minutes.  Bailiff, please have a deputy stand guard.”  

Everyone moved as needed before the court settled again. “Mr. Fuller, please continue,” Andy said.  

“Mike said he knew he was Mary’s father but that he wished Diane had listened to him and gotten rid of the baby.  That the baby almost fucked, sorry, messed up his life. That he didn’t want to change his life from booze, drugs and women.”  

“Drugs?” Andy spun back to Bobby. “Have you ever seen Mr. Weiss use drugs?”  

“Yes.”  

“Liar! You’re a fucking liar Fuller!” Mike rose from his seat and the bailiff moved to keep Mike in his area.  “You know shit!” 

“Mr. Weiss, control yourself or you will be removed from the courtroom. Bailiff, stand there and make sure Mr. Weiss does not leave his seat.” The judge glared at Mike. “Mr. Fuller, do you have any proof of these transgressions?” 

“Yes. My apartment has a doorbell camera and a camera that is in the kitchen watching the door. I’ve had a couple of break ins. The kitchen camera caught Mr. Weiss shooting up.”  

Abby gasped and covered her mouth. Frank growled softly and held Abby’s other hand to ground himself. The sick bastard was a drug user and wanted custody of his daughter. Over his dead body.  

“Mr. Fuller has forwarded that video to me today and I have submitted it to the court clerk for the record. Based on this evidence, we request that his objection to the adoption be rejected and allow the adoption to be expedited due to trauma Mary has experienced. We want her to be settled as soon as possible.”  

The judge looked over the video that had been loaded to his tablet. “Based on evidence presented, I am rejecting the objection to the adoption and rejecting Mr. Weiss’s claim for custody as a parent. Mr. Weiss is unfit to be a parent in any capacity.  I will be forwarding my recommendation to the judge in the adoption case.”  

“No! She is my kid! You can’t do this!” Mike yelled. The bailiff placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder to hold him in place.  

“Furthermore, I am rejecting bail for you, Mr. Weiss.  You will be taken back into custody as a flight risk and face the charges of kidnapping and child endangerment. Bailiff, please place Mr. Weiss under arrest.”  

“No! You son of a bitch!” Mike tried to lunge at Frank who placed himself in between Mike and Abby. “You fucked up my life!” 

“You did it the moment you took the drugs and got my sister pregnant. We’ll see you at trial.”  

Mike thrashed and yelled obscenities at Abby and Frank. It took four deputies to get him back into custody. Once his voice was no longer heard, the judge motioned to the deputy at the door.  Mary and Scott walked back in. “Young lady, you have been very brave the past few weeks. I wanted to personally let you know that no one is going to stop your parents from finishing the adoption.”  

“Really?!” 

The judge chuckled. Really. “We are adjourned.” 

Frank whipped his family into his arms. Abby and Mary sobbed into his chest as he fought his own tears. “Thank you,” he mouthed to Andy, who smiled at the family. He reached over and grabbed Scott to pull him in. As he let go, Bobby walked up to them. “Adler, can I talk to you?” 

Frank cocked his head to the side, and he stepped away from his family. “Yeah?” 

“I just wanted to apologize to you. For helping Weiss, treating you like crap,” he swallowed, “and for Vegas. I knew it was wrong, but Weiss twisted everything.”  

“Yeah, he does that.”  

“Yeah well, when he talked about taking Mary away, I just couldn’t stomach that. When I heard about the motion, I called Andy and said I needed to say my piece. I’m really sorry man, for everything.” He stuck out his hand.  

Frank grasped it and shook.  “Thank you for telling the truth.” Bobby nodded and walked out of the court.  Mary ran up to Frank and tugged on his hand. 

“Can we go to eat? I’m starving,” Mary proclaimed.  

“Sure, Nugget, let’s get outta here.”  

The group headed to dinner and sat around in a private room. A bottle of champagne is passed around. Abby stops the waiter from pouring in her glass. “None for me, thank you.”  

“You? skip champagne? Scott snorted. “What are you, pregnant or something?” he joked.  

Abby smiled. “Sure am.”  

Scott sputtered his champagne. “What?” 

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Frank and Abby shared a look before Frank leaned over and kissed Abby softly. “Love you mama.”  

“Love you too Daddy.” 

Just three more parts left!

NEXT

Taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #chris evans fanfiction #frank adler #frank adler au #mlb au #dodger au #ofc abigail hernandez #sliding into home #chris evans #mike weiss #johnny storm #baseball au #frank adler smut #slow burn #chris evans au #cliffhanger queen

[ask-missparker]

Season 2 ideas - Jeremy, Liane, Joshua, Belladonna and Nikolai are all accidentally stuck in the enchanted forest.

—They have to find a way back home but on their way home they stop by a few stops, meeting old faces and a couple of new ones 👀 meanwhile in the town they have their own little spots of trouble.

Side-note: Idk if we will do another AU season 🤷‍♀️ yet. I still wanna continue the Wandavision one 💘

For the OUAT: We might change some things because i was thinking about Michelle being in the forest as well, she hasn’t been washed over during the first curse. Like maybe Michelle was in hiding after all theses years once the curse broke in real time and makes her grand return saving the day.

———

In the enchanted forest 🌳

Jeremy ties to men up to the tree, shining his hook and asks, “What do you want? Why do you want to go to our town?”

The older brother spat, “Because you have something of ours. Well, more importantly your husband does.”

“Oh god, what did he do now?”

The young brother added, “He has our sister locked in a pendant! Every time someone uses it, it drains her magic.”

Liane asked, “What’s her name?”

“Stella..he lost her to a duel with Gold’s husband..we want her back!”

Meanwhile Belladonna was looking at the young pretty blonde who played with her sword like it was a magical stick. They found her when they landed here and her mother requested she followed them. Joshua watched her eyes line and snorted as his friend told him to shut it.

“I didn’t say anything.” He replied.

“And I said shut it.” She repeated.

Nikolai gave both of them a look and half smiled sheepishly noticing how her son reminded her of his father. Even better, Belladonna reminded him of Cole at times, then he looked back at the brothers.

Nikolai asked, “What are your names?”

“Why do you want to know?” Asked the young one.

Jeremy responded for him, “My first mate asked a question. What are your names? Give me one other reason why I should let you go and not let you be eaten by Ogres.”

“Thiego and Leonardo, pirate. I don’t need to give you another reason onto why..”

“Why?”

“There is nothing for us in this land. Cora is asking us to help her out of a reward.”

“What reward?”

“Go to this new land, get revenge on your husband and most importantly, restore our family.”

Jeremy looked at his niece and nephew at the last part. Joshua was looking into the guys bags and scars on their chins, noticing deep daggers as he mutters, “Stabbington Brothers?”

Nikolai looked at his son raised an eyebrow, “You know them?

Belladonna stopped looking at the blonde to look at the others saying, “It’s from Tangled.”

Liane blinked confused wondering about where is Rapunzel and her man, Flynn Rider, at if theses guys are here.

Jeremy mumbled, “Of course you’ve seen that movie too. At least it’s better that Ames’s movie.”

He gasped in response, “Hey! That movie depicted us horribly..”

Joshua joked, “Yeah, dad, all you did was kiss mom once after one single encounter while she was asleep.”

Bella snorted, “Well my movie they made my dad kinda one dimensional and only slaying my mother instead of helping her.” 

Liane’s eyes almost flashed purple but Nikolai put a hand on her shoulder to just let it go like Elsa.

The brothers were about to question a couple of things, even bargain a deal to help the others. When suddenly a voice caught into the background of the woods.

“There you are, sons of bitches!” Yelled the voice of the young woman who it seemed to belong to.

Everyone looked around to search for the voice in question. Whoever it was, she has a mouth on her! Jeremy grinned as he thought he was dreaming when he heard it. Nikolai smirked not wanting to get his hopes up yet.

The sun was shining across the thick blonde curls as shiny armor came into view, it looked more Royal than most. She held a small smile as she walked over to the group, her sword resting on her hip, her boots pounding against the ground and her eyes bright was the ocean. Liane looked a bit confused onto the women in front of her, almost like she seen her before but the pirate boys beat her to.

“Michelle?” Asked Nikolai and Jeremy at the same time seeing their old friend.

“Who were you expecting? Lancelot?” She joked with a smile, but her glared stayed on the two men tied up against the tree, who robbed her earlier.

Bella, Alice and Joshua were all dumbfounded by the young blonde.

———

Hehe ok I now want our OCs watching and roasting the Disney versions of themselves 😂

Tags: @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @cherrysft @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @rooster-84 @sherloquestea @thecavalrywife @thisgirlisonfayeeer @rickb-chaos @sherloquestea @thecavalrywife @thisgirlisonfayeeer @cherrykissthings @mera-xebella and etc

#Stevella #season 2 #story ideas #ouat au #fantasy au #ask missparker #ask characters #fanfic ideas #fanfic inspo #random thoughts #brainstorming

[robinsartisticcorner]

This is the first time Im posting a drawing I made so I'm really nervous

This is the digital drawing I'm most proud of to the date, and I know is really simple but I'm just starting to learn how to draw digitally and I'm not even that good with traditional still so to me this is a lot.

I hope you all like it and and if you could reblog it I would be really thankfull 😊😊

All the information about the character is below the cut so if you're interested be sure to check it out, and if you will like to know anything about him or any of my others OC's you can ask me anytime. I love to talk about my OC's but I don't really have anyone to do it with so it would make me really happy.

This is Liam, Liam Drake.

He is one of my favorite OC's and the one I draw the most with no doubt 💜.

He's member of my imaginary band called NonExpectations in Wich he plays the drums, he is also romantically interested in the most recent member, Elías, and used to have a relationship with the ex-guitarist

He works as a tattoo artist and is studying to become a veterinarian, he loves animals but mostly cats and dogs, he's a simple man.

His favorite hobbies are drawing and listening to music.

He likes pastel things, sweets, kdramas, spending time with Elías, fashion and dyeing his hair.

He hates sour things and can't handle spice at all, animal abuse or animals dying in movies makes him cry unconsolably, he can't stand mean or egocentric people, and he hates when people (mostly parents or old persons) look at him weirdly for the way he looks, it makes him really uncomfortable.

He is REALLY shy and awkward so he doesn't have a lot of friends outside the band members and his co-workers.

He lives with his mom, one of his big sisters and his two younger siblings. He also has two more older sisters, who live with they're respective parnerts, and a nephew and niece.

His natural hair color is blonde but he's being dyeing it in different colors since he was 14 years old.

He has a lot of piercings, like, a LOT. On the head he has: seven on his left ear, six on the right, one on each cheek, one on the tongue, and one on his right eyebrow. Then he has one on each nipple and some on his private parts 😳.

He is pretty tall, around 180 cm, and has broad shoulders but is really thin since he mostly lives at ramen and pastry, thin enough to make his big sisters, mother and Laura (the band manager) worry.

He has really notorious eye bags from not sleeping ever (he doesn't have time for that mom, he has so much study to do).

He loves fashion, specially alternative fashion, he dresses somewhat edgy mostly but sometimes he likes something more casual or even preppy.

His appearance tends to intimidate others, but he's a real pacifist and hates anything related to violence.

His biggest dream is to live in a farm with the love of his life and to have a lot of animals.

#oc art #my ocs #liam drake #drawing #ibispaintx #ibispaint art #english is not my first lenguaje #so I'm sorry for any mistake #digital art

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week - #83

It was another busy week film-watching-wise, and I managed to see a fair number of excellent films. The best of the lot were ‘Mrs. Harris goes to Paris’, ‘The Lacemaker’, ‘A scene at the sea’, ‘Incendies’.

🍿

2 with Lesley Manville + 2 with Isabelle Huppert:

🍿 Another haute couture adjacent role for the absolutely delightful Lesley Manville (After ‘Phantom Thread’) in Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris (2022). A Pixar-charming fairy tale with a score mimicking the "Married Life" opening sequence to ‘Up’. Mrs. Harris is Queen-For-A-Day, an older cleaning lady widow, who dreams of buying a Dior gown in 1956 Paris. Huppert plays a bitchy gatekeeper at the high-end retailer, an unusual role for her. This is the kind of pleasant romance for old people that my mom will love, but so did I, very much. 8/10.

🍿 My 5th Mike Leigh film, Topsy-Turvy, (1999) about the creation of Gilbert and Sullivan’s opera ‘The Mikado’. Not particularly fond of period dramas, and mostly unfamiliar with Gilbert and Sullivan’s Victorian music hall comedies, this highly-regarded production didn’t connect with me.

🍿 I’ve seen a dozen or so films with Isabelle Huppert, but none was actually from the beginning of her exceptional career. In The Lacemaker (1977) she stars as a shy 18-year-old girl who falls in love for the first time. Even though she was only 24 at the time, she already played at 15 films before. It’s obvious that even at that young age, she was a major talented actress. Subtle, compassionate and reserved, just like Vermeer’s. 9/10.

🍿

A Scene at the Sea (1991), my second by Takeshi Kitano, the one he made right before ‘Sonatine’. A quiet story about a young garbage collector who finds a discarded surfing board on his route and his geeky girlfriend with exceptionally big ears, both mute and deaf. It’s so refreshing to see an action-less ‘sport’ film that doesn’t hit you on the head with it, and where the determined ‘hero’ never gets more than half-decent with his hobby. (Photo Above).

A very lovely score by Joe Hisaishi, reminiscent of Erik Satie. 8/10

🍿

3 by Denis Villeneuve:

🍿 His horrifying Incendies (2010), dramatizing the tragic story of Lebanese fighter Souha Bechara during the Civil War. I resisted watching it for a long time, as I could feel it was too emotionally draining, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. Canadian twins are searching to unearth their mother’s middle eastern harrowing secrets. The torture, atrocities and cruelty were indeed tough to sit through, mostly because of Villeneuve's realistic direction, but the power of this extraordinary film gave it universal appeal. 9/10.

🍿 Next Floor, his symbolic, one-note 2008 short about a group of high-society carnivores who gorge themselves on dish after squishy dish at a dark banquet. Is it hell, or are they just modern consumers?

🍿 So After ‘Sicario’ and ‘Enemy’ and now ‘incendies’, I thought that maybe I should cover the rest of Villeneuve‘s works. But, after being discovered as a multi-layered story-teller, the first of the big Hollywood breaks he got, Prisoners (2013), was creepy and utterly unpleasant. Child abduction stories are usually a sadistic guise to dwell in the “worst of humanity”. And gory vigilantes are the excuse for “excising” these demons. But I despise both and don’t need them in my life, especially when they are delivered in degrading slow-motion and without any redeeming qualities (in spite of all the shallow religious symbolism). Fuck him.

David Thomson expressed it well here. 2/10. 

🍿 

The innocents (2022), my second Nordic Terror (after ‘Blind’) from Norwegian Eskil Vogt (who co-wrote all of Joachim Trier‘s films). It’s about an angelic-faced blond little girl, her autistic sister, and two other children who are afflicted with supernatural powers, one of them uses it for “evil”. The young actress who plays the autistic sister is incredible. And the Ambiance Noir score is superb.

It’s actually my favorite of these two authors’ disturbing work. Unfortunately, I can see him getting a big Netflix production as his next project, which will turn his subtle style into a bombastic, soulless formula.

🍿

Richard Burton X 2:

🍿 Absolution, another 1978 British drama with tortured priest Richard Burton, struggling with the deadly consequences of his ‘Seal of confession’. But, unlike ‘The night of the iguana’ this time there’s no John Huston to guide, and especially no Tennessee Williams to present ‘real’ characters. Instead, the 'Children's Hour’ theme of a strict teacher at a Catholic boarding school and his different treatment of two students is meddled, confused, and unsatisfying. The role of the rebellious student, who snares the priest into a evil web of murder is especially weak.

The best the film has to offer is Burton’s mellifluous, gravelly-deep Welsh voice, which is plenty, really. 4/10 for the 'Voice’ and the 70′s English film style.

🍿 Under Milk Wood, 1972 BBC adaptation of Dylan Thomas’s classic play, about a day and night in a small Welsh village. Burton and Thomas were friends and drinking buddies.

...“From where you are you can hear in Cockle Row in the spring, moonless night, Miss Price, dressmaker and sweetshop-keeper, dream of her lover, tall as the town clock tower, Samson syrup-gold-maned, whacking thighed and piping hot, thunderbolt-bass'd and barnacle-breasted, flailing up the cockles with his eyes like blowlamps and scooping low over her lonely loving hotwaterbottled body”...

🍿

As I am ready to immerse myself in  the films of Hou Hsiao-hsien, Edward Yang, Tsai Ming-liang, Etc. I watched the documentary Flowers of Taipei: Taiwan New Cinema (2014), about the Taiwanese New Wave of the 1980s. I’m looking forward to them.

🍿

2 epic Hindi stories from India:

🍿 3 Idiots (2009), a cheesy Bollywood saga about 3 friends at an engineering school. Like many Indian movies, it’s a 3 hour long broad comedy, over-dramatic with exaggerated details and absurd logic. Until everybody burst out singing and start dancing in front of neon-colorful vistas. Every time I see one of them, I say that I need many more Hindi musicals in my life. 5/10.

🍿 “... There are two kind of people in this world, Dicks and Assholes... And this is a game that these two play...”

Gangs of Wasseypur (2012) is a violent 5-hour gangster epic about three mafia families who fight for wealth and control through 3 generations. It’s frantic, bloody, brutal action, aspiring to be an Indian ‘The Godfather’ story, about revenge, greed and power. Unusually profane, with dozens and dozens of characters, and choppy story telling style. Banned in Qatar for violent content!

🍿

My 8th Hong Sang-soo film, Woman on the beach (2006), is the least satisfying of them so far. Probably because the main character is a common jerk. It does not start that way: A youngish director, Mr. Kim, is urging a colleague and his girlfriend to join him at a small seaside resort. There they sit in small restaurants (as per the usual Sang-soo custom), drink lots of Soju and talk endlessly. But slowly he discloses himself to be a deceptive ass, who manipulates the women around him, just so he can sleep with them, while still thinking so highly of his art craft. A disturbing portrait of a male ego, that is surely autobiographical.

And then there’s the unexplainable scenes with a cute white dog, Dori, which is abandoned by his normally-looking owners, just like that! Unsettling!

🍿 

2 first-watches starring Paul Newman:

🍿 Hitchcock’s cold-war spy “thriller” Torn Curtain (1966) with Newman and Julie Andrews. Lame, old-fashioned and lacking any suspense, the worst of his films in my mind. However, Hitch’s cameo at the beginning of the film is in Copenhagen at the hotel d'Angleterre, so yeah for that.

🍿Slap Shot (1977), a broad sport comedy that was his favorite role to shoot. About a failing ice hockey team that starts playing outrageously and violently. His only comedy?

🍿

Buster Keaton’s silent cowboy adventure, Go West (1925). Not as inventive or slapsticky as his best stuff, but it ends with a wild herd of cattle stampeding through the streets of LA.

🍿

2 By Spanish director Nacho Vigalondo:

🍿Colossal (2016) was truly a stupid movie: A giant reptilian Kaiju appears in Seoul, South Korea, killing and destroying things in its path. At the same time, alcoholic loser Anne Hathaway discovers that she is actually the one who remote-controls the Godzilla-like monster from a playground in her small New Hampshire home town. And from there, it gets funkier, and less coherent. It’s difficult to imagine how people come up with these moronic concepts. 1/10.

🍿7:35 in the Morning (2003) was his first film, an Oscar-nominated short about a suicide bomber who terrorizes a busy cafe, by singing and dancing and getting everybody to join him. Odd and uninteresting

I actually saw another of his films this year, ‘Time Crimes’ - and all three were no good!

🍿

“...This corn is raw!...”

The perennial Cold War techno-thriller WarGames (1983 - Opening scene with young Michael Madsen and John Spencer).

Doctor Strangelove’s Doomsday Machine with Stephen Hawking robotic voice, and the film that convinced ‘Evil Empire’ Reagan to invest billions of dollars in his SDI Star War wet-dream systems. Re-watch.

"...A strange game. The only winning move is not to play..."

🍿

Leif Gantvoort’s short Passed the Brush (2020) about a man who has a makeup brush fall from the ceiling into his lap. Re-watch.

🍿

I’m finally going to start watching ‘Better call Saul’ this week. But until then, I binged on ‘Slippin’ Jimmy’, a quick animated AMC money-grab, which is basically Saul Goodman spin-off for 9-year-old boys. 1/10.

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Under milk Wood Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

[ithappensblog]

celebrating diversity & imagination

Barbie’s magical world has inspired generations of dreamers and storytellers, and I can’t wait to see the new Barbie movie. It reminds me of my own childhood, when I used to create endless stories with my dolls. I’m glad that Barbie now embraces the rich diversity of our society, and I hope this will encourage more self-confidence and kindness in the future.

As a child, my Barbie dolls were my companions in a realm of creativity and wonder. Without a sister and with cousins who were much older, I found solace and joy in those solitary moments of imaginative play. My dolls were vessels of adventure, friendship, and dreams as I crafted tales of fantasy and exploration.

Yet, I also remember how the dolls of that era portrayed a singular ideal of beauty – one shape, one size, with exaggerated features that were far from reflective of the real world. Barbie, with her big eyes, lips, perky figure, and blonde hair, instilled a subconscious notion that beauty conformed to a narrow mold. This, in turn, sparked insecurities and misconceptions about self-image that lingered into many of our generation's formative years.

Now, as the mother of an almost five-year-old daughter, I've witnessed the evolution of Barbie in a heartening way. We are both brimming with anticipation for the new Barbie movie, and together we've delved into the realm of imaginative play, just as I did decades ago. But what strikes me most is the representation and diversity that Barbie now embodies.

A recent visit to Toys r Us was an eye-opening experience. The array of Barbie dolls I saw reflected the beauty of diversity in our world. Curvy dolls, dolls with disabilities, dolls with different skin tones – it was a celebration of the reality that everyone is unique and beautiful in their own way. I was moved to tears as I realized the profound impact that these diverse dolls could have on my daughter and countless other young minds.

The transformation in Barbie's image signifies a pivotal shift in the values we aim to instill in our children. No longer are they confined to a narrow notion of beauty. Instead, they are exposed to rich differences that embrace every shade, every shape, and every ability. The creators of Barbie have finally demonstrated an understanding of the significance of representation in children's toys – a recognition that childhood should be a celebration of diversity and an opportunity to cultivate self-love. I don’t mean to suggest that toy manufacturers are solely responsible for shaping our children’s self-image, since we as parents have the duty to help them love themselves. However, when they see toys that reflect their identity and diversity in toy stores and movies, it adds something extra to what we’re already doing for them as parents.

My hope for my daughter's generation is that they grow up in a world where self-love and acceptance are second nature. That the dolls they play with, the movies they watch, and the stories they hear can all contribute to this understanding. The progress Barbie has made reflects a larger cultural shift toward embracing individuality and rejecting harmful stereotypes.

In raising my daughter in this new era of Barbie, I am filled with optimism. I hope that her journey will be marked by confidence, compassion, and the knowledge that beauty comes in many shapes and forms. This newfound representation our children see in their toys alone is a step toward dismantling the ideals of beauty that once plagued me and countless others.

#barbie #barbiemovie #comeonbarbie #barbie2023 #thebarbiemovie #comeonbarbieletsgoparty #self love #self compassion #beauty #fyourbeautystandards #beautystandards #bodypositivity #plus size #curvy #stereotypes #newgeneration #millennials #borninthe80s #raisedinthe90s #diversityisbeautiful #parenting #parentingdaughters #mothersofdaughters #daughters #yougogirl

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Can I have a message from my guides please?

Sure :) thanks for sending this in. Most reading requests I get are soulmate ones and those are so draining compared to other readings. That’s why they take so long! I’ve found career and spirit guide and other ones flow more easily at times! Anyway, done disclaiming my shit. Let’s see what comes up.

Guides, what say you?

Guides? Guide. There’s one of me. Only one because me and this soul (seeing them elbow you lovingly) have been through the ringer (getting strong soul sister vibes). Yes messenger woman, we were sisters in many lives which is why I’m a guide in this life. We’ve upgraded, baby! Woo hoo. You didn’t need me incarnate in this life and I get to try guiding immaterially. Pretty neato in my opinion!

You’re forgetting the magic of your hands. (I’m seeing lots of flowers, purple, pinks, reds). Up here and in other lives, we spent a lot of time playing out doors, with our hands, catching fish and butterflies, picking bouquets for mom

(I’m seeing you at this specific place, I’m getting like 1700s/1800s England and being on this big estate, white house, big flowering bushes and a small creek by the house, green, forest around the edges of the property, but also dry, brown, I think the grass dies in the summer, anyway I’m seeing you guys laughing and playing, young girl with light blonde/brunette hair and I keep seeing her just sticking her face into the flowers and smelling them, Elsa is a name I’m hearing being called by an older darker haired sister, blue eyes, maybe both of you had blue eyes, long white night gowns, oh shit, immediately I’m hearing sobbing and seeing a floating body in the river, I think this younger sister was you? You drowned in this life with this sister and I think they carry guilt around protecting you and that’s part of what they are clearing up karmically in this guide role in this life, so I’m getting you drowned young in this lifetime, I feel like I just watched a highlight reel of moments from that lifetime? It’s odd to me. It’s like a movie with glimmers, laughter, your moms face kissing you, she was blonde with red lips in this memory from this other life, running around the garden, you were happy in this life and I feel this sense of deep sadness that you died, like afterwards everything felt grey and dreary, I think none of the family fully recovered, not the sister and not the parents, I think the family stayed together but it was like a vast void, you were the light in the family and it was snuffed out like a vacuum of the energy in the house, I think it’s in disrepair now or it was, I’m getting boarded up windows and the whole garden died. I’m seeing this sister and this deep sadness and loneliness, I don’t have all the words to describe it )

What can she do this life to heal up karma from that life?

Garden, bring back the garden we loved that lifetime, primroses and honeysuckles, all the flowers you could dream (this guide has taken on the form of the sister from this past life now, spinning around and jovial remembering the garden)

Things in this life that tie you to the last life? (Things you may experience in this life that you don’t fully get where it comes from)

- fear of water or fascination with drowning

- throat closing up, or like a feeling of being choked, unable to breathe at times, almost like a panic attack? This is tied to your memory of drowning (now I’m wondering if you were drowned or if someone drowned you, seeing a man holding your face in the water)

- sensitive head or hair, I think in this past life you may have been yanked by it (idk who this person was because it wasn’t your parents, they were gentle energies, I’m thinking like either the family cook or groundskeeper, someone was rough with you and might have killed you to snuff out your light, they were driven by darkness and you will meet this person again in this lifetime, you will know it’s them because you will feel uneasy around them for no reason and you will not trust them but this lifetime they are meant to be kind to you to reverse the karma, I think they may show up as like a frenemy, even though they will try, they are like irritated by your energy)

- chocolate chip cookies, big cookie lover

- pearls and red lipstick, playing dress up, disco

- someone walked in and started talking to me about cats during this reading so maybe something around kittens or cats ties you to this past life as well

Card Pull

Fairy Oracle

Magical gateway— it takes courage and trust to venture into the unknown, yet this is where the greatest rewards are. It’s time to step boldly forward without looking back.

Immediately I’m getting secret garden vibes. I feel like this past life insight I’m sharing is the magical gateway that helps you release some things from this past life but I also think it will send you deeper into a journey of your own self discovery. Look into the random past lives ties thing, I think there are more answers for you there. I think too, if you’ve been hesitating on something this card is saying to act! If you do nothing, nothing will happen.

Hope this resonates in some way. Kinda interesting the turn this reading took. But would love to know if this connects at all for you! 🌸💜

#channeled message #free tarot #free tarot reading #past lives #past life #spirit guides #soul family

[alongpause]

before I am seven

She brushes my hair back and says “I love you” and I don’t say anything

I’ve got my thumb in my mouth and I’m hugging her leg and she knows

I don’t have to talk, she knows

I am young and the moon always follows me home

all the trees know my name without asking

I don’t assume my importance, but I feel it

I always let the phone ring

I am too worried that if I answer

it will be bad news

Fragile and dreamy

are just nice words

for emotional and confused

my first day of school I am determined

not to cry like all those other kids do

so I save my tears for the next day

She doesn’t call me ‘fat’ in so many words

but I still hear it

and I get in trouble when I am caught punching myself

I cup my hands around my mouth

and whisper to the walls

all the bad words that I know

I pretend to be afraid of the vacuum cleaner

because my older sister is

and she doesn’t want me to protect her

I cry too much

everyone tells me so

and the “no I don’t” gets caught in my throat

Dad is never home

mom is always home

I never see either of them

My sister has a loose tooth and I poke it

right out of her gum

there’s blood everywhere and I’ve never been so sorry

Dig a hole with my bare hands

they tell me the other side of the world is under there

and I am determined

I look into my eyes in the mirror because I can’t find my pulse

I am an alien

I do not belong to these people

When I tell her I have had a bad day

she asks me why and I don’t know

she says “don’t tell your father.”

I’m walking one slow step at a time

I’m know I’m not supposed to touch the iron

but I don’t know why, yet

I’m in the habit of stealing, but I never get caught

I’m not a good liar

but I have an honest face

“when she loses that belly,

the boys will love her.

pretty blonde thing.”

I am afraid of the dark, but my nightlight smiles at me

I hear him talking and he always says,

“there’s nothing to be scared of when I’m here”

One of my parents sings me to sleep

every single night

Jesus Loves the Little Children and that means me

I can’t sleep so I pull my bean bag chair up to the door

to listen to the television show my parents are watching

I wake up with my skin sticking to the leather

I learn how to whistle and I don’t stop

until my father’s voice is ringing so loudly in my ears

that I feel like my lungs come loose

I ride in the back of the truck

on a little foldout seat

I like it best because I can watch the road run away from me

I pull my hair out

one strand at a time

I don’t know why I keep following that sting

this is the first time I see my own blood

I have fallen in front of the library

running to get to the books

I cry when Angels Among Us plays

so my dad rewinds it

to play it again

I am scared I am going to be left in Walmart

after they lock the doors

but that doesn’t stop me from wandering

My friend Jennifer doesn’t speak English

and I don’t speak Spanish

but we both know our favorite color is pink

My first kiss is in a church

we are supposed to be watching a movie

none of the adults see and I feel like a god

The television babysits me with colored lines

until we can’t afford cable anymore

and I have learn how to do other things on my own now

 I think there is a hatch under my bed

and Godzilla, Chucky, and Dracula are waiting with a caldron,

so they can eat me when I finally fall asleep

She holds my hand in the hallway

and drops it whenever people walk by

I will always wonder what that means

There are coyotes in the yard

at night I hear them howling

I dream I am a mouse and they are dancing and grinning around me

My second kiss is under a slide

with my best friend

he likes the same movies I do and that is enough

I boy I don’t know punches me

for a reason I don’t know

and I never forget his face

I am sick and he thinks I am lying

I am not allowed to leave my room

I am not allowed to have my toys

I get frustrated easier than other kids, she thinks

she talks about me on the phone to her friends

I wonder if she knows that I can hear her

I always read the Sunday comics

and I always laugh

whether I understand the jokes or not

It’s the millennium and I don’t know what that means

but someone told me the world will end at midnight

and I can’t even manage to stay awake for it

I know that the best things in the world are toys and chocolate,

convinced of their connection I come to the conclusion

that toys make chocolate when I’m not looking

I am the world’s greatest detective

in my dad’s bathrobe with my bubble pipe

I follow my magnifying glass around for hours looking for clues

I am a vampire

wrapped in a bath towel cape,

and this plastic storage box is my coffin

I lay down and pretend to be dead

to see how long it would take them

to find me

My sister and I share a room

and we like to stay up talking

until one of us falls asleep

My parents make me move my bed

because I kick the wall in my sleep and it keeps them up

I still wake up with new bruises

My mom always threatens me with my father

“wait until he gets home from work”

and she just makes his pointed fangs longer

I am tall and I grow fast

they tell me I’ll be six feet tall

I can’t wait

My doll’s eyes follow me around the room

and I ask her to stop staring

when she doesn’t, I burry her face in the pillow

“We can’t have McDonald’s because we had it yesterday”

and I don’t think my mom understands that we can

because there’s a McDonalds’ right there.

At the playplace there is a spaceship hanging from the ceiling

and when my sister asks me to come play with her

I just know, this is going to be the time it falls

My sister doesn’t want to play with me

she says she needs time by herself

I tell her that I don’t

My mom doesn’t like going to the store

for the same reason I don’t like going to the store

she can’t afford to buy me new toys

My parents friends are always saying

how well behaved my sister and I are

and it goes to my head

It’s easier for me to talk to adults

than other children

and that should bother me

I am sentimental from an early age

I lose one of my socks on the playground

and wonder what his brother will think

I spend most of my time alone in the basement

playing with my barbies and watching Scooby doo

even though it scares me

My mom goes to school at night

and sometimes my dad lets me stay up and wait for her to come home

he doesn’t know that I’m scared she ran away with another man

This isn’t even the blanket I came home

from the hospital in

but I don’t remember a day without it

I rhyme all the words I can think of

I don’t notice when my parents get tired of me

I am too interested in this new magic

“when your mom says ‘maybe’ does she usually mean yes or no?”

I don’t understand the question

because she always means ‘maybe’

My mom won’t let me dress myself

and it frustrates me to no end

pyjamas should not be confined to nighttime

I count sheep but I feel bad

for making them jump

so I name them and give them stories instead

[pppunz]

Step!Dream and Step!George dominating the fem!reader?

Diary [CC!Dream x CC!George x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: dom!dream, dom!george, sub!reader, afab reader, fem reader, stepcest, porn with a slight plot, degradation, praise, threesome, handjobs, blowjobs, a small bit of aftercare at the end

Notes: This one is a bit longer than my usual imagines, but I was gone for a long time and you guys deserve it. Enjoy! <3

From the moment you met your Stepbrothers, you knew they were trouble. There was Clay, a tall, strong looking guy with sandy-blonde hair and a cocky personality. Then there was George, shorter than Clay with black hair and a British accent, despite being smaller than Clay in size, he was still intimidating. They both were.

You remembered the first time your Dad introduced you to your Stepmother (who wasn’t your Stepmother at the time) which in turn introduced you to her sons, your soon-to-be Stepbrothers. You felt your heartbeat quicken, they were hot, like, hot-hot.

"Y/N, this is Clay and George!" Your Dad introduced you to the two guys, both of whom had a small smirk on their face.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Y/N.” Clay said.

“It is, we’ve heard quite a bit about you.” George said as well. You felt a shiver go up your spine.

“I’m glad you three are being open to this whole thing. I know it’s a lot to take in.” Their Mom said. “I hope you get along well with each other.”

Clay smiled slightly at you. “I think we’ll get along really, really well.” And oh, trust assured, you did get along very well.

It started with the lingering touches. Clay’s hand caressing your waist when he passed you in the kitchen, George’s hand resting on your thigh at the dinner table, many things that were seen as small, innocent actions to others, but were actually the complete opposite.

Next was the innuendos, oh boy, the innuendos. Clay was especially keen on this one. One night, you were all watching a horror movie, and you were screaming at every jumpscare or scary moment. Clay just had to say a remark about if you were this loud with a movie, he wondered how loud you’d be in bed. He laughed with George immediately after, which confused but aroused you to no end. Your nights were spent writing in your diary, as childish as that sounds. You wrote every fantasy, thought, and detail about how you felt about them. It might be ridiculous to keep a diary as an adult, but it kept all your feelings in one neat little bow.

Around three months of living with them, your Dad and Stepmom announced that they were going on a two week vacation and that the three of you were staying home alone.

“Now, be good, okay?” Your Stepmom said as they were going out the door, “I don’t want to come back to my house in ruins.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t destroy the house.” You reassured her with a smile.

“Oh, and you two boys better watch over your sister, you’re older than her. Make sure she’s okay.” She said to George and Clay.

“Don’t worry, Mom.” George wrapped an arm around you, “We’ll take really good care of her.” Your stomach did somersaults at that remark.

With a final smile and goodbye, your Dad and Stepmom left. You took a deep breath, suddenly hyper-aware of their eyes on you. You played with your fingers nervously.

“Sooo…” You said nervously, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I guess I should, uh, go do some homework…”

Clay chuckled. “Homework? Really?”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah, homework. Is there a problem with that?”

George smirked and stepped closer to you. “Ooh, attitude. Wouldn’t you rather be ‘fucked stupid by your hot Stepbrothers’, hm?” He said that phrase with his two fingers moving with air quotes.

You squinted slightly as your face heated, those words sounded very familiar. Clay stepped closer to you as well, both their eyes looking you up and down like you were a piece of meat.

“Yeah, doesn’t being ‘bent over backwards and fucked brainless’ sound like more fun than homework?” Clay said, his voice low. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh, fuck. Your diary, that’s why their words sounded familiar.

“You read my diary?!” You exclaimed, looking back and forth at the two.

“Maybe we did. But that’s nothing compared to the thoughts you have about your Stepbrothers’. We read everything in that little diary of yours; you’re a rather dirty one, aren’t you?” Clay responded.

You huffed and tried to ignore the heat building up inside of you. You never anticipated that they would’ve even found your diary, even though you were naive enough to not hide it better.

“Says the ones who touch their Stepsister all the time, any chance they get.” You exclaimed back, “You probably went looking in my room for something to jerk off to!”

George and Clay looked at each other for a single moment, then looked back at you. “Go upstairs and get on Mom’s and your Dad’s bed.” George demanded.

Your eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“You heard him. You want to be fucked stupid? We’ll fuck you every single second of the day, make you your Stepbrothers’ slut.” Clay said.

You swallowed, your body suddenly feeling like it could melt into a puddle. George snapped his fingers twice and said, “go.”

You nodded and dashed up the stairs, opening your Dad’s room hesitantly and sitting in the middle of the king sized bed. You felt the bedsheets, running them across your fingers nervously. You had dreamed and fantasized about this moment for months, and now it was actually happening.

A couple minutes later, you heard the bedroom door click open and you turned your head to see Clay and George walking in. You took a deep breath, shrinking under their gaze.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.” George said, getting up on the bed along with Clay. You did what he said, pulling your shirt off and putting it on the floor, before laying down on your back. You whimpered quietly as George’s cold hands and Clay’s warm hands touched your body. George’s hands pulled your bra up, not completely off, but off enough to show off your breasts.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Clay said breathlessly, “I can’t believe we didn’t do this earlier.” You went to move your hands to cover yourself up from embarrassment, but George stopped you.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t cover yourself.” George said, pulling your hands back down to your side. You felt Clay’s hand go on your breast, kneading the soft flesh in his hands. They were toying with you, seeing how far they could push you until you begged them for mercy.

“Please, I need… I need more.” You begged quietly, looking at them with pleading eyes. Clay began to unbuckle his belt to his jeans.

“Think you can suck us off first?” He asked. You nodded immediately, sliding off the edge of the bed to get on your knees.

Clay and George pulled their clothes off, letting you take in their complete appearance. George was especially pale, lean, and just plain pretty. His cock was long, very long with a pinkish tip. Clay had tanner skin and was more buff-looking. His cock was thick, so thick it almost scared you. Your mouth basically watered, their cocks were so different yet you craved the both of them just as much.

George gripped his cock and rubbed it slowly, up-and-down. “Come on, you know what to do.”

You nodded and with one hand, held Clay’s cock in your hand and slowly jerked it off and with your other hand, led George’s cock to your mouth. You gingerly put his cock in your mouth, letting a lot of your spit trail out of your mouth and down his cock. Clay let out a groan at your hand moving at its slow pace.

“You’re such a good cocksucker, isn’t she, Clay?” George said, his head thrown back with a groan.

“Such a fucking good girl for us.” Clay praised you. You whined at the praise from both of them, your thighs pressed together to try and get some stimulation.

After a good couple minutes, you switched, sucking Clay’s cock and jerking off George. Your pace was quickening as well, desperate to make them both cum.

“Fuck, baby.” Clay moaned out. Your face burned at the nickname. “Keep going, make us cum all over that slutty face.”

You whined and shoved his cock further down your throat, just about hitting the back of it. Your hand was aching, but God, you wanted both of their cum so bad.

You got off Clay’s cock with a soft “pop” and a line of spit connecting you to it. You jerked both their cocks with both your hands, thriving off of their groans and moans of your name.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum!” George exclaimed, his moans becoming more and more frequent.

“Me too, fuck. Keep going, make us cum, baby.” Clay said, his fingers gripping his thigh tightly. With one last jerk, the two of them came at about the same time, cum leaking and shooting out of both their cocks. You licked out your tongue and let their cum go all over your face in spurts. The two breathed deeply, their cocks still hard from the sight of you covered in cum.

“Get back up here and lay down for us again.” George said, moving so you could lay back down in the middle of the bed. Clay rubbed your hip softly.

“Tell us if you want us to stop, okay?” Clay said, suddenly being very serious. “If it gets too much, just say red.”

You nodded. “I will. Now, please, fuck me.”

George smirked. “We thought you’d never ask.”

George lined up with your pussy, the head of his cock teasing your folds. Clay then followed that, kneeling next to George and lining his cock up with you, which made George shift over slightly. You moaned slightly at the both of them teasing your cunt with just their tips.

“Again, say red if you want us to stop.” George said. You nodded and laid your head back, letting out a soft moan as they slowly moved inside of you. It wasn’t like you were a virgin, but two cocks inside of you is a lot for one cunt to handle.

“Fuck, you’re both so big…” You said, soft moans leaving your lips uncontrollably. You felt so stretched out, like you were having sex for the first time.

“We can’t even fit our whole cocks inside of you, damn.” Clay said, “we’ll have to stretch you out over time for that.”

Your fingers gripped the bedsheets as they began to move, thrusting in and out of you in near sync. Your moans became louder, mixed in with a couple of moans of their name.

“I can’t believe we were living with you for three months and weren’t doing this already, fucking hell.” George groaned, using one of his hands to grip your waist.

“This is all we’re ever gonna do, make our sweet, little Stepsister our little slut.” Clay cursed out, “These two weeks are gonna be great, you better be ready, baby.”

You threw your head back and moaned, you were so fucking ready. You were also close, very close to going over the edge. You had never came this fast with anyone, but God, you were so ready.

“Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You whimpered out, squirming around a lot from the pure pleasure you were feeling. You felt Clay slap the side of your thigh.

“Come on, baby. Cum for your Stepbrother’s, come on.” Clay cooed, his hips and George’s thrusting against yours at an indescribable rate. You let out a sob and came, cumming all over their cocks and your Parent’s bed. Clay and George came after, pulling out and cumming all over your stomach.

As your head was up in the clouds, the two cleaned you up softly, careful to not startle you from whatever trance you were in. George got you water as Clay covered you up in the blankets. Once the three of you were clean, they laid down on both sides of you, wrapping their arms around you softly.

George kissed your forehead. “Sleep well, love.”

#solar writes #georgenotfound smut #dream smut #mcyt smut #dsmp x reader smut #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp smut #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt oneshots #mcyt oneshot #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines #dream x reader smut #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dream oneshots #dream oneshot #dream imagines #dream imagine #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound x reader smut #georgenotfound x you #georgenotfound x reader #solar writes: george #solar writes: dream

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

Don’t I Get a Dream for Myself ? – Bernadette Peters and the 'Gypsy' Saga

Gypsy. It’s perhaps the most daunting of all of the projects related to Bernadette Peters to try to grapple with and discuss. It’s also perhaps the most significant.

For someone notoriously guarded of her privacy and personal life, careful with her words, and selective of the questions she answers, the narrative around this show provides some of the most meaningful insights it is possible to derive in relation to Bernadette herself. The show’s ability to do this is unique, through the way it eerily parallels her own life and spans a large range in time from both Bernadette Peters the Broadway Legend, right back to where it all began with Bernadette Lazzara, the young Italian girl put into showbusiness by her mother.

The most logical place to start is at the very beginning – it is a very good place to start, after all.

(Though no one tell Gypsy this, if the fierce two-way battle with The Sound of Music at the 1960 Tony Awards is anything to be remembered. Anyway, I digress…)

Gypsy: A Musical Fable with music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, and book by Arthur Laurents, burst into the world and onto the New York stage in May of 1959. After closing on Broadway in March 1961, Ethel Merman as the world’s original Mama Rose herself led the first national tour off almost immediately around the country. Just a few months later, a second national touring company was formed, starring Mitzi Green and then Mary McCarty as Rose, to cover more cities than the original. It is here that Bernadette comes in.

A 13-year-old Bernadette Peters found herself part of this show in her “first professional” on-the-road production, travelling across the country with her older sister, “Donna (who was also in the show), and their mother (who wasn’t)”.

The tour played through cities like Philadelphia, Chicago, New Haven, Baltimore and Las Vegas before closing in Ohio in 1962. Somewhat uncannily, its September 1961 opening night in Detroit’s Schubert Theatre even returns matters full circle to the 2003 revival and New York’s own Schubert Theatre.

Indeed this bus-and-truck tour was somewhat of a turning point for Bernadette. She’d later remember, “I mostly thought of performing as a hobby until I went on the road with Gypsy”.

But while this production seminally marked a notable moment for the young actress as well as the point where her long and consequential involvement with Gypsy begins, it’s important to recognise she was very much not yet the star of the show and then only a small part of a larger whole.

Bernadette was with the troupe as a member of the ensemble. She took on different positions in the company through the period of nearly a year that the show ran for, including billing as ‘Thelma’ (one of the Hollywood Blondes), ‘Hawaiian Girl’, and additional understudy credits for Agnes and Dainty June.

The above photo shows Bernadette (left) with another member of the ensemble (Sharon McCartin) backstage at the Chicago Opera House as one of the stops along the tour. Her comment on the stage of the Chicago theatre – “I’d never seen anything so big in my life!” – undeniably conveys how her experiences were new and appreciably daunting.

Along the tour, she assumed centre-stage once or twice as the understudy for Dainty June, but playing the young star was not her main role. Unlike what more dominant memory of the story seems to purport.

Main credits of June went instead to Susie Martin – a name and a tale of truth-bending that’s now well-known from Bernadette’s concert anecdotes. While performing her solo shows as an adult and singing from Gypsy, Bernadette has often been known to take a moment to penitently atone for historical indiscretions of identity theft or erasure where her mother long ago conveniently left out the “understudy” descriptive when putting down Dainty June on her resumé, in an effort to add weight to the teenager’s list of credits.

Whatever happened to Susie Martin? – many have wondered. Well, she soon left the theatre. But not before appearing in two more regional productions of Gypsy and a 1963 Off-Broadway revival of Best Foot Forward with Liza Minnelli and Christopher Walken.

Bernadette too went on to other regional productions of Gypsy. She spent the summer of 1962 in various summer stock stagings with The Kenley Players, like in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and this time she did indeed get to play June.

Above shows photos from different programmes for these productions. While some may have featured odd forms of photo editing, they at least also bring to attention Rose here being played by none other than Betty Hutton.

The two women couldn’t have been in more different positions when they coalesced in these rough-around-the-edges, small-scale productions. A young Bernadette was broaching summer stock in starting to take on bigger roles in the ascendency to her bright and long career. Meanwhile, Betty found herself there while navigating the descent that followed her sharp but fickle rise to Hollywood fame in the ‘40s and early ‘50s. Top billing Monday, Tuesday you really are touring in stock after all.

While details aren’t plentiful for these productions, it was recounted Betty apparently struggled in performing the role. And understandably so. Following the recent traumatic death of her mother in a house fire, and the birth of her third child shortly before the shows began, it’s not hard to see why her mind might have been elsewhere. Still, she was apparently impressed enough by the younger actress who turned in one of the show’s “creditable performances” to make comment that she would’ve liked Bernadette to play her if a movie were made about her life.

Bernadette might not have done this exactly, but she did go on to revitalise Betty’s best-known movie role, when stepping into Annie Oakley’s shoes in the 1999 Annie Get Your Gun revival. With Bernadette’s first Ethel Merman show under her belt, the ball was soon rolling on her second.

The 2003 production of Gypsy was imminently beckoning as her next successive Broadway musical and it was Arthur Laurents who lit the match to spark Bernadette’s involvement. Laurents, as the show’s original librettist, drove the revival by saying he “didn’t want to see the same Rose” he’d seen before. Going back to June Havoc’s description of her mother as “small” and a “mankiller”, and Arthur’s take that Bernadette sung the part “with more nuance for the lyrics and the character than the others”, the choice of Bernadette was justified. Moreover, “Laurents – whose idea it was to hire her – [said] going against type is exactly the point,” and Sam Mendes, as director, qualified “the tradition of battle axes in that role has been explored”.

So Bernadette also had her own baseline of innate physical similarity to the original Rose Hovick, in addition to her own first-hand memories of the women she’d acted alongside as Rose in her youth to bring into her characterisation of the infamous stage mother.

But there was a third factor beyond those as well to be considered in the personal material she had access to draw from for her characterisation. Namely, her own real life stage mother.

Marguerite Lazzara did share traits with the character of Rose. She too helped herself to silverware from restaurants, and put her daughters in showbusiness for the vicarious thrill. Marguerite had “always wanted to become an actress herself”, but had long been denied her desire by her own mother, who likened actresses to being as “close to a whore as you could be without, you know, getting on your back”.

In that case, to “escape a housewife’s dreary fate in Ozone Park”, Marguerite channelled her latent dream through her pair of young daughters instead, shepherding them out along the road. Thus was produced a trio of the two children ushered around the theatre circuit by the driven mother, forming an undeniable parallelism and a mirror image of both Bernadette’s reality and Gypsy’s core itself. Bernadette didn’t see some of these familial parallels at the time when she was a child, considering “maybe I didn’t want to see” – “didn’t want to see a mother doing that to her daughter”.

It was coming back to the show as an adult that helped Bernadette resolve who her mother was and some of the motivations that had propelled her when Bernadette was still a child. She realised, “I think she thought she was going to die very young”, as her own father died young. So “she was rushing around to get as much of her life as she could in there”.

When she herself returned to the production in playing Rose, Bernadette conceded to sometimes bringing elements of her mother and her driven energy into her portrayal, and admitted too she looked “like her a lot in the role”. You can assess any familial resemblances for yourself, from the images below that show a young Marguerite next to Bernadette in costume as Rose, and then with the pair backstage in 1961 in a dressing room on the tour.

Marguerite was ambitious. From her own personal position and with the restrictions imposed upon her, it was ambition that materialised through her children. Irrevocably, she altered them. She placed Bernadette on TV as a very young child (“I was four when my mother put me in the business”); changed her daughter’s surname (“She told me my real name was too long for the marquees,” or really – “too Italian”); doctored her resumé (“Somehow the word ‘understudy’ vanished. ‘No one will know,’ said Marguerite”); and lightened her hair (“She’d say, ‘Oh, I’m just putting a little conditioner on it.’ But slowly my hair got blonder and blonder!”). All in the hope of giving her child a more favourable chance at the life she’d always wanted for herself.

On paper, a classic stage mother. “When I was a kid, she fulfilled herself through me,” Bernadette would say. “She put me into show business so she could get a taste of the life herself.”

But it’s important to consider Bernadette often qualifies that her mother wasn’t as brutal as Rose, nor was she herself as traumatised as June.

Bernadette didn’t begrudge her mother for her choices – at least by the time she was an adult, she’d rationalised them, explaining “naturally it was more exciting [for her] to go on the road with me than staying home and keeping house”.

As a child, Bernadette hadn’t necessarily wanted to be on stage, but there was a sense of ambivalence – not resentful belligerence – as she “didn’t care one way or the other” when she found herself there.

Like June, Bernadette may have been entered into and coaxed around a path she hadn’t voluntarily chosen. But unlike June, Bernadette had a deal with her mother that “she had only to say the word”, and she could leave.

Most crucially, she never did.

But that’s not to say Bernadette was enamoured with acting from the beginning.

She seemed to feel ‘outside’ of that world and those in it. And others saw it too.

It was in 1961 in Gypsy that Bernadette first met Marvin Laird – her long-time accompanist, conductor and arranger. The way he put it, he “noticed this one young girl, very close with her mother” who, during breaks, “didn’t mix much with the other girls”.

Beneath the effervescent stage persona, there’s a quieter and more reserved reality, and a sense of separation and solitary division.

When asked by Jesse Green in 2003 for the extensive profile in The New York Times if she thought her experiences on the road in Gypsy were good for her at that age, she gives a curious, somewhat abstract, predominantly dark, potentially macabre, response. He wrote:

She doesn’t answer at first but seems to scan an image bank just behind her eyes for something to lock onto. Eventually she comes out with a seeming non sequitur. “I didn’t know how to swim. I remember, in Las Vegas, I fell in, once, and they thought I was flailing, but I felt like: ‘It’s pretty down here!’ I might have been dying and I was thinking: ‘Look at the pretty color!’ And suddenly my fear of water was gone, and I could have stayed in forever.” After a while, I realize she’s answered my question. Then she dismisses the image: “But I had to get my hair dry for the show that day, so up I came.”

I’m still not entirely sure I know what she’s trying to convey here. My interpretation of this anecdote changes as I have re-visited and re-examined it on multiple occasions at different time points. It’s arguably multiply polysemic.

Was she simply swept up in a moment of childlike distraction, lost in the temporary respite alone away from the usual noise and clamour? Was she indicating comprehension that her feelings and perspectives came secondary to any practical necessities and inevitable responsibilities? Was she using the water to depict a muffling and fishbowl-like detachment from others her age who got to live more ‘ordinary’ lives in the ‘normal’ world above that she felt separate from? Was she referencing the pretty colours she saw as a metaphor for show business and how she became bewitched by them even despite potential dangers? Was she trying to legitimately drown herself, or at least exhibiting an ambivalence again as to whether she lived or died, because of what the highly pressurised demands on her felt like?

The underlying sentiment through her response in answer to Green’s primary question was that, in essence – no. Being a child actor was not “over all, a good experience for a youngster”.

Acting might have been something she fell in love with over time, but not all at once, not right from the beginning, and not without noting its perils.

It was a matter of accidental circumstance that landed Bernadette in the show business world to begin with at such a young age in the first place – “I just found myself here,” she would offer.

Her mother, who was “always crazy about the stage”, “insisted” that her sister, Donna take lessons in singing, dancing and acting.

A further point of interest to note is that, although it was Bernadette with her new surname who would grow up to be the famous actress, look to the cast lists from the 1961 touring production of Gypsy that featured both sisters in the company (see photo below) and you’ll find no ‘Lazzara’ in sight. Donna too, appearing under the novel moniker of “Donna Forbes”, had also already become stagified (nay, ethnically neutralised?) by her mother. As such it is clearly demonstrated that Marguerite’s intention at that point was to make stars of both her daughters. Correspondingly so, when her sister returned from her performance lessons some years before, “Donna would come home and teach me what she had learned,” Bernadette remembered. She may have gotten her “training second hand”, but the key element was that she got it.

For Bernadette, it was a short jump from emulating magpied tricks from her sister as well as routines from Golden Age Busby Berkeley musicals on the ‘Million Dollar Movie’ in front of the TV screen, to her mother getting her on the other side of the screen and actually performing on TV itself – belting out Sophie Tucker impressions aged five for all the nation to see.

The photos below show Bernadette in performative situations at a young age (look for criss-crossed laces in the second for identification).

“At first, as a toddler, Bernadette enjoyed performing; it came naturally, a form of play that people inexplicably liked to watch.” It was “just a hobby” and she “wanted to do it”.

But while she may not have detested it, she didn’t entirely comprehend what was going on either. “I didn’t even know I was on TV,” she said. “I didn’t know that those big gadgets pointed at me were cameras and that they had anything to do with what people saw on the television set.”

When she started gaining more of an awareness of how “such play [was being] co-opted for commercial purposes”, she grew less enthralled. “She didn’t care for the bizarre children, accompanied by desperate mothers, she began to see at auditions: ‘They spent their whole time smiling for no reason, you know?’”

Being a child who had become sentient of being a child performer began to grow wearisome and grating to the young girl who had her equity card, a professional (and strange, new) stage name, and an increasingly long list of expectations by the time she was nine. There’s a keen sense she did not enjoy being in such a position: “I wouldn’t want to be a child again. When you’re a child, you have thoughts, but nobody listens to you. Nobody has any respect for you”.

Gypsy did indeed mark a turning point for Bernadette as mentioned above – but not just in the way that seems obvious. Looking back at it now, it does appear the monumental turning point at which she started appearing in significant and reputable productions, beginning what would be the foundation to her ‘professional’ career. However it was also the turning point after which she nearly quit the business altogether.

When she returned from performing in Gypsy, Bernadette felt like she’d had enough. One way of putting it was that she “then retired from the business to attend high school”, wanting to have some semblance of a normal scholastic experience “without the interruptions”. But whatever dissatisfaction she was feeling as an early adolescent on stage, she didn’t resolve at school – going as far as saying that while at Quintano’s School for Young Professionals, “she was in pain”.

“When you’re a teenager you’re too aware of yourself,” she recalled. Being a teen and trying to come to terms with of the expectation of the ‘60s that “you are supposed to look like Twiggy, and you don’t, you feel everything is wrong about you”. Everything “was all about tall, skinny, no chest…[and] hair straight”. Little Bernadette with her “mass of [curly] hair and distracting bosom”, as Alex Witchel put it, was never going to fit that mould. “That was not me,” she stated. “At all.”

Her self-consciousness grew to the point that it became overwhelming and asphyxiating. “I was trying desperately to blend in and be normal, but that doesn’t allow creativity to come out,” Bernadette said. “I knew I was acting terrible. The words were sticking in my mouth and all I could think about was how I looked”. It was hard enough just to look at herself (“I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror”), let alone to have other people gawk at her on stage. So she stopped trying. She “didn’t work much from age 13 to 17” in the slightest. Bernadette would later reflect in 1981 in an atypically open and vulnerable interview, “I was very insecure. Insecurity is poison. It’s like wearing chains”.

It was a combination of factors that helped her overcome these feelings of such toxic and weighty burden to draw her back into the public world of performing and the stage. “The two people who helped her most, she says, were David LeGrant, her first acting teacher, and her vocal coach, Jim Gregory.” Jim helped with “[opening] a whole creative world for [her] with singing”; and it was David who’d give her the now infamous and often (mis)quoted line about individuality and being yourself.

Having these kinds of lessons, she reasoned, was “really a wonderful emotional outlet for a kid of 17”. The process of it all was beneficial for her therapeutically – “you have a lot of emotions at that time in your life, and it was great to go to an acting class and use them up”. And Bernadette felt freer on stage than she did out on her own in the ‘real world’, saying “[up there] I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing or saying because I’m doing and saying what I’m supposed to be doing and saying”.

Finally then and with considerable bolstering and support, she grew comfortable with the notion of being visible on stage and in public, and realised she was never going to blend in as part of the chorus so it was simply better to let go of such a futile pursuit.

David LeGrant’s guiding advice to Bernadette (“You’ve got to be original, because if you’re like everyone else, what do they need you for?”) wasn’t just a trite aphorism. For her, it was a life raft. It was the key mental framing device that allowed her to comprehend for the first time that she might actually have intrinsic value as herself. And that it was imperative she let herself use it.

She had always stuck out, yes, but she had to learn how to want to be seen – talking of it as a conscious “choice” she had to make when realising she did “have something to offer”.

Thus soon after Bernadette graduated, she stepped back into productions like in summer stock and then Off-Broadway as she made her debut at that next theatrical level at 18. It wasn’t long before she was discovered in what’s seen as her big break in the unexpected smash hit, Dames at Sea. And so Bernadette Peters, the actress, was back. And she was back with impact and force.

Besides, as she’s also said, she couldn’t do anything else – “if I ever had to do something else to earn a living, I’d be at a total loss”. An aptitude test as a teenager told her so apparently, when she “got minus zero in everything except Theater Arts”. So that was that. Her answer for what she would’ve done if she’d never found acting is both paradoxically exultant and macabre – “I don’t know, probably shot myself!”

Flippant? Maybe. Trivial? No.

Acting is thus undoubtedly related highly to Bernadette’s sense of purpose and self-worth. This is what makes it even more apparent that a show with such personal and historical connections for her, as in Gypsy, was going to be so consequential and impactful to be a part of again as an adult and perform on a public stage.

She’s called inhabiting the role of Rose in the 2003 revival many things: “deeply personal”, “life changing”, “like going through therapy” – to name a few.

In interviews regarding Gypsy and playing the main character, when asked what she had learnt, Bernadette would frequently say something like, “It taught me a lot”. Pressed further about specifics, her answers often hem close to vague platitudes as she maintains her normal tendency of endeavouring to keep her privacy close to her chest.

On one occasion, she actually elaborated somewhat on what she’d learnt, giving a fuller answer than the question is normally afforded anyhow. Beyond all it revealed to her about her mother, she extended to admitting “my capacity for love and my capacity for anger” as aspects in her that the show had permanently altered. Moreover, Rose to her was undoubtedly the “most rewarding and fulfilling acting experience” she had ever had.

But while such deep, personal and emotional depths and memories were being stirred up beneath the surface in private, she was getting vilified in public singularly and repeatedly by New York Post columnist, Michael Riedel.

Even before she’d set foot on stage, Riedel set forth in motion early in the 2003 season a campaign of vocal and opinionated defamation against Bernadette as Rose that she was miscast, insufficiently talented, and would be incapable of executing the role.

Too small, too delicate, too weak, too many curves (and too much knowledge of how to use them). Not bold enough, not loud enough – not Merman enough. Chatter and speculative dissent begun to grow in and around the Broadway theatres.

For such a prestigious and historic musical theatre role, it was always going to be hard to erase the large shadow of an original Merman mould. Ethel was woven into the very fabric of the show, with the rights to Gypsy Rose Lee’s memoirs being obtained at her behest in the first place, and the idiosyncrasies of her voice having been written into the songs themselves by their very authors.

To step out from such a domineering legacy would be a marked challenge at the best of times. Let alone when battling a respiratory infection.

Matters of public perception were certainly not helped when Bernadette then got ill as the show started its preview period and she started missing early performances.

Nor did it help with critical perception that the Tony voting period coincided so synchronously with Gypsy’s first opening months – giving Bernadette no time to recover, find her feet, and settle more healthily into the show for the rest of the run before the all important decisions were made by that omnipotent committee.

The tale of her illness is actually undercut by a more innocent and unsuspecting origin than you’d expect from all the drama and trouble it engendered. Bernadette decided nearing the show’s opening to treat herself to a manicure. In the salon, she was next to a woman very close to her with a frightful sounding cough. Who could’ve known then that this anonymous and inconspicuous lady through a fateful cause-and-event chain would go on to play such a part in what is among the biggest and most enduring Tony Awards “She was robbed!” discourses? Or even more broadly – in also arguably playing a hand in the closure and financial failure of an $8.5 million Broadway show after its disappointing performance at the Tony Awards that ominously “[spelled] trouble at the box office” and led to its premature demise?

Bernadette did not win the Best Actress in a Musical Tony that night on June 6th 2004. The award went instead (not un-controversially) to newcomer Marissa Jaret Winokur for Hairspray.

She did however give one of the most indelibly resonant and frequently re-referenced solo performances at the awards show just before she lost – defying detractors to comprehend how she could be unworthy of the accolade with a rendition of ‘Rose’s Turn’ that has apocryphally earned one of the longest standing ovations seen after such a performance even to date.

Even further and even more apocryphally, she reportedly did so while still under the weather as legend as circulated by musical theatre fans goes – performing “against doctor’s orders” with stories that have her being “afflicted with anything from a 103-degree fever, to pneumonia, to a collapsed lung”.

Seeing then as unfortunately there is no Tony Award speech to draw on here, matter shall be retrieved fittingly from that which she gave just a few years earlier in 1999 for her first win and previous Ethel Merman role in Annie Get Your Gun to wrap all of this together.

As has been illustrated, there are many arguably scary or alarming aspects in Bernadette’s Gypsy narrative. There’s undeniably much darkness and an ardent clamouring for meaning and self-realisation along the road that tracks her journey parallel to the show. But unlike Rose’s hopeless decries of “Why did I do it?” and “What did it get me?”, there was a point for Bernadette.

As her emotional tribute in 1999 went: “I want to thank my mother, who 48 years ago put me in showbusiness. And I want to finally, officially, say to her – thank you. For giving me this wonderful experience and this journey.”

Whatever all of this was, maybe it was worth it after all.

#bernadette peters #gypsy #gypsymusical #gypsy the musical #stephen sondheim #arthur laurents #jule styne #ethel merman #broadway #musical theatre #musicals #broadway history #annie get your gun #betty hutton #tony awards #gypsy rose lee #sam mendes #new york #musical #musical theater #broadway musicals #the sound of music #summer stock #liza minnelli #stage mother #child actress

[angelhummel]

What are your family head canons for Kitty? I forgot to ask a while ago but I remembered to again 💖

Omg I actually had a few a while back. Since like I said she's oddly one of the only characters whose families I've gotten super excited over speculating about lmao. I can't find all the posts now but

Basically I picture Kitty being the middle child out of five girls. In like an upper upper middle class suburbia type environment. Very sheltered, very weirdly Christian upbringing. Parents met at college, dad probably played football and mom was a cheerleader. She dropped out when she got pregnant with her first kid, he started working for his father's company, etc etc. That whole deal, right?

Anyway so the mom was super into cheerleading her whole school career until she had to drop out, so basically as soon as one daughter is able to hold pompoms, she signs them up for like baby's first cheer class or whatever it is. And gymnastics, and probably at least one dance class, the whole stage mom shebang. Oh, and baby beauty pageants. That's canon that Kitty was in those I think lol

So yeah, stay at home slash stage mom who honestly acts like she's the oldest sister, and an absent dad who has all the parenting skills of a 50s business man. And five little blonde haired blue eyed girls of various heights running around the house. But Kitty has green eyes tho, maybe that's the first thing that sets her apart from her sisters lol

Ooh wait the first time I saw Grease was at a church lock in lmao. Lemme just pick that out of my own brain and throw it onto a fictional character real quick. So that's basically Kitty's introduction to musicals and she's lowkey obsessed with it to the point where she subconsciously decorates her whole bedroom to look like the one in the movie. And she's always dressing up in costumes and acting out the whole movie as basically a one woman show bc none of her sisters want to play with her

Anyway so she gets a little older and is at McKinley and the first musical they put on while she's a student is Grease! And she's so happy and she's determined to try out and get a good part bc it's her favorite musical. And it's something that's just her own, that her sisters haven't done or won't do. There's some dancing but it's mostly just acting and singing and so she's super excited to dive into something new and different and get to perform in public, the show that she knows by heart

So she sticks her neck out and tries to be the little trailblazer in her family just to get stuck with one of the smallest parts in the show. So she's upset and she's lashing out but she still does it bc it's still one thing that's just hers and maybe she'll get more chances later who knows (and she does cause she joins the glee club afterwards!) but no one in her family comes to support her during the show's run which also stings

But then she joins glee club and realizes that the family you're born into doesn't have to be the family you're stuck with forever. And goes from being surrounded by people that look and think and act just like her to people who are everything she's not, and learns that that's a good thing and learns to love them. And she eventually breaks out of her narrow minded (and yes, bigoted) little shell and finds a new family in her wonderful friends that love her unconditionally and want to see her happy and following her dreams

Also Kitty is a lesbian ♥️ Ty for coming to my ted talk

Here's another post where I was talking about here family lol

#glee #kitty wilde #my thoughts #my headcanons #long post #asks #gleekidshooray #love that username #also love how that ask i linked starts with #going off your other headcanons #and yet i cannot find the post with the original headcanons #life is a struggle

[sif-the-tsunami]

When you fall apart

But this ain’t my mama’s broken heart. 

Warnings: Yes, all of them. No smut all angst. and no promise of a happy ending. gallows humor, pregnancy loss, infidelity, self medication, spicy language. 

Summary: Sy is a cheating bastard and his wife has had enough. 

Pairing: Syverson, now a Colonel and his long suffering wife Josephine. (marriage is great guys, I promise.)

Just over 3,300 words.

This might not have been what you were expecting @oddsnendsfanfics​

My mother was a genuine Southern debutante, I grew up with pictures of her on the walls with her gorgeous smile and pretty pearl necklaces. Blonde hair and green eyed, she was the most beautiful little slice of American apple pie. Her daddy was the ‘Old Money’ type, and she was his finest accomplishment, she looked, behaved, spoke perfectly. Never once have I heard that woman raise her voice to a man. Hell, I never heard her pass gas in front of anyone for that matter. She is the picture of privilege, she went from her daddy’s house to her sorority house to her husband’s house. Some how, even though she smokes a pack a day, she still looks like she could pass for being forty instead of almost sixty. The last time we saw each other, my friends told me they didn’t know I had an older sister.

Mama married a gentleman who had the good sense to enlist in the military to help support the lifestyle she demanded he provide for her. He was never around much but he gave her a nice house with a lovely front yard, and two little perfect children. He was another one of the old Southern types, I don’t think he ever outright said “I love you, Josephine,” or “I’m proud of you, girl.” Looking back, I don’t think anyone ever did that for him either, so he probably didn’t know how to tell that to me or my brother Theodore. I’m almost sure that he and Mama loved each other once upon a time. Daddy worked hard, he broke his body serving his country, and when he couldn’t do that anymore he broke his own heart trying to please Mama. She must have been disappointed in how her life turned out. She might have had dreams once, when she was younger. I’m pretty sure the last of them were crushed when Daddy died balls deep in the woman who used to perm my Mama’s hair.

Mama played the grieving widow perfectly, not a single person knew that they had been miserable for years. She has worn black out in public ever since. I think the only thing that has really changed is that she has started day drinking now because she’s lonely. I don’t blame her really. She pushed us really hard to be as perfect outwardly as she is, so it is safe to say that she is really disappointed in your truly.

You might be wondering why this all matters, dear reader. However, I find that it is important for you to know this when I tell you I’m remembering this sitting here in the county sheriff’s office, waiting on my Mama to come pick me up because my probably soon to be ex-husband and I got into screaming match, and I may have drunkenly thrown my bottle of tequila at my probably soon to be ex-husband’s head. The details are a little fuzzy at the moment.

“Josephine Syverson, your mother is here to pick you up.” The Sheriff’s deputy starts in his slow drawl, “Now don’t you go pickin’ no fights with your husband. You’re lucky he ain’t pressing charges. Go sleep it off now, Ma’am. I’m sure you two kids will work it out.”

I wait until he can’t see my face to roll my eyes. And low and behold, there she is, my Mama drove four hours to come and pick me up. She’s in a black vintage driving coat, and her hair is covered by a dark gray satin bonnet. It doesn’t matter that it is half past midnight, she is still the beauty queen she has always been. I drank enough Jose Cuervo tonight that my head is still swimming, but I walk with the grace and dignity she taught me.

“Oh my Lord, Josie, what have you done to yourself?” She asks. “Thank you, officers, I’ll get her back on track.”

We make our way out to the car and Mama unlocks the door for me. I slide in and as soon as my butt hits the leather of her seats, I start crying all over again. She gives me the packet of tissues she keeps in her purse then hands a little make-up bag.

“So, what was is this time, Josie, I swear to Lord Jesus that if he laid a hand on you, your brother and I will bury him in the back yard.” She says turning on her Cadillac. “Get cleaned up, you are coming home with me. Maybe James will be smart enough to figure out where you went.”

“Mama?” Who was this woman? She never talks like this.

“Come on, your mama isn’t as dumb as she looks. Although he evidently is.” She lights up a cigarette and offers me one.

“I quit when we started trying… Even after… well… everything, I didn’t start back up.”

She pats my leg. I unzip the bag to find makeup wipes, mascara, face powder and some brick red lipstick. We might not get along all the time but she is a damn life saver. I have black rivers of my own eyeliner and mascara from earlier today streaking my face. I clean myself up as much as I can and then reapply some make-up. “There, now that you are looking better, tell me what happened...”

“Where do you want me to start? I swear this started after his first deployment.”

“Okay, Josie, start there.”

James Syverson is an Army Ranger, I met him after he finished officers school. Because of the nature of military special forces, they deploy more often than most jobs in the military. I understand that they are under a lot of pressure during these deployments and because he is in a position in leadership I opted to give him as much room as he needed. The other officer’s wives informed me that I needed to recalibrate my expectations of what could happen. They warned me that what happens on deployment shouldn’t be held against him when he gets home. And I didn’t, until a girl barely old enough to visit a bar came up to my door asking for my husband with a hand on her belly. She was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just looked up Syverson in the phone book, and I didn’t know he was married.”

“Is it his?”

“Ma’am?”

“I can see that you are pregnant. Is. It. His?”

“I… I don’t know…” She said quietly.

“He is still over there. Do not come here again unless you are requesting a paternity test.” And I slammed the door shut. She did come back for the test results when he came home. Turned out that the baby wasn’t his. Small favors, right?

I never faulted the women who fell in love with him. I knew how special he could make them feel, its how I fell in love with him in the first place. After everything he’s put me through it almost doesn’t matter when it is just the two of us. All I have ever wanted was for it to be just the two of us again, but I don’t know think I can wait for him to retire.

“How many times do you think he’s done it?”

“At least once a deployment. The most recent one saw us at the movies last night. He was holding my hand like nothing had ever happened. When he was coming back from the concession stand, a little redhead stopped him and asked who he was here with. When she saw me, she looked like she saw a ghost. He came back up, handed me my pop, kissed my cheek and wrapped his arm around me. He said ‘I promise you, it is not what it looks like.’ but the bitch and her friend kept looking over their shoulders to peek at us. I saw her texting someone and then his phone vibrated, but he didn’t look at his phone until I wasn’t with him.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She lit up again. “And you’ve just been sitting on this, the entire time?”

“Yeah, I learned from the best, Mama. I didn’t want to let you down. You taught me to never let them see me cry.”

“Oh, my baby girl...”

The rest of the night at the movies, I kept it to myself, I’ve had enough. The boiling, seething hatred I was feeling for both of them. I hate that they are always younger than me. I hate that it always makes me like I’m not enough. When I woke up this morning had a beer in the shower. I always save the last one for him, so taking the last one was a big “fuck you” to him. He tried to climb in with me until he saw me drinking in the shower.

“Woman, what are you doing?” He asked. Like he wasn’t the one who introduced me to the idea of a shower beer.

“I’m going to keep drinking ‘til my heart stops hurting, Sy. I don’t know what else to do. But whatever it is that we keep doing, I can’t keep it up anymore. Get out.” I have never denied him, no matter what he wanted. And up until this morning, I had been an amazing wife to him. In the fifteen years of marriage, he has only had to do his own laundry when he was away from home. And even then, he probable conned someone into doing it for him. I have lost almost every friend I have made from relocating so often. I have started and stopped working on my Master’s degree more times than I can count. And now here I am, mid-thirties with none of my own goals accomplished to show for all of the work I have done over the years. If I had opened my mouth, even once, about his indiscretions, he never would have made it to Colonel. Not once have I complained.

After I dried my body off, I walked into the kitchen, naked as the day I was born and grabbed my trusty kitchen sheers. I needed a change. He paused the game he was playing long enough to watch me walk past him with my scissors and the bottle of margaritas.

“Jo, it’s nine in the morning. Being a little dramatic, aren’t we? We going to church today?”

“Why, James? You’ve been yelling ‘Oh my god,’ between some whore’s legs fairly regularly, I’m sure he knows you are a big fan.” I walked away before he could reply, locking the door behind me to our bedroom. He pounded on the door a few times but got the hint that I was not in the mood to be talked to when I turned up Chris LeDoux as loud as I could play it. Then I went to go give myself bangs.

When the music fades, the house is silent. No video games, no football, nothing. I continue to drink from my bottle and the world becomes a little more tolerable. Now, I am not a heavy drinker. Sy teases me all the time about how cheap of a date I am.

“Josephine!” He snaps at me in his soldier voice and I drop the margaritas.

“Jesus fuck, Sy, why you gotta scare me like that.”

“Oh, you are the one getting scared, woman, I have never seen you act like this before.”

“That’s because you ain’t here every time one of your indiscretions comes knocking on the door of my house. Never once have I expected sainthood from you, James, I learned better after your first deployment,” he won’t look me in the eye, either he’s ashamed of what he’s been doing or he is going to punch a whole in the wall tonight. “You would have seen this if you had been around after my daddy died. This is your wife, Syverson, she goes a little crazy from time to time.

“You know how hard I tried to come home for that, that is not fair Josephine.”

“I’m sure you did try. I wish you would try a little harder when it comes to picking out these dumb sluts who think that you are just going to run away from home as soon as you come back from the sandbox. I have received notes on my car windshield telling me that you were going to leave me for them. How you loved them and you were just suffering with me. That I’m hateful, and spiteful, and they could treat you so much better then I ever could. What have you been telling these girls, James, for them to think I am some kind of monster? Haven’t I been a good wife to you? What did I do to you to make you hate me this much?”

“I had no idea that they were doing that. I don’t hate you, baby. You have been a better wife than I probably could have ever deserved. Is that what you want to hear? I know I’m a rotten bastard. How long have you been holding this in, Josie?” His face darkens, I can see all the rage boiling up in him too.

“Don’t you call me that name, you son of a bitch.” I spit at him.

“How long?”

“Since Cassandra came up holding her belly, waiting to tell you that she made you a daddy. Too bad it wasn’t the first time, or I actually might have been worried that you’d leave. I hadn’t even stopped bleeding yet before she tried to take you.” I snarled back at him. And he face drops. Twelve years ago, we tried. I was seven months pregnant when I lost our son. Sy’s squad was wiped out after a night of heavy combat. He barely made it out alive himself. I got a phone call about his injuries and I must have made a deal with the devil himself. I would put up with the womanizing, the long distance, the heartache, just please have him come up to me. I would give anything to save him, I had thought. An hour after I got the call that he had woken up and was safely on a ship in the Mediterranean sea, I started to go into early labor.

“Oh, fuck me. That long?” He whispers. He rubs his face, the stubble was getting long, unless he was out in the field, he kept himself within regulations. He reached out to hold me but I shrug off his touch. He walked away from me, thinking that maybe he might let me calm down and we would go back to being a picture perfect couple again. He could just do whatever he wanted and I will grin and bare it.

I cleaned up the mess I made then went back to the bedroom to put on something on me other than shame. We gave each other space until the evening came around. He came in to ask if I had any plans for dinner. Wrong question, buddy. I walked to the kitchen in my tight black yoga pants and a tank top, went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed my favorite bottle of tequila and took three long gulps.

“That’s my plan, worry about yourself.”

“You haven’t had any real food today, you need to eat something.”

“Eat my ass, Colonel.” With that he pins me to the wall, the room spins around me and I start thrashing against him. He’s got probably 100lbs on me and more combative training than I can remember, so as you can well imagine this is going super great for me. I stop long enough to see the tears forming in his eyes. “Was there ever anything special between us, did you keep any part of yourself just for me?”

“Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved. I never even implied that I had any feelings towards them. They knew from the beginning it was simply recreational. Jo, you know you are my best friend.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me? Why am I not enough, Sy? Why do they keep getting you at your best, and I have to put all of your broken pieces back together again when you finally do come home.” Remember every time he woke up screaming the names of his fallen friends. When we have to leave BBQ’s early on the 4th of July because the fireworks remind him of mortar shells.

“You are enough. You are more than enough. I couldn’t have made it this far without you. It has never been anything other than stress relief with them.” The first tear rolls down his cheek. “I love you, Pussycat, now please lets get some food in you. Are you going to be good?”

“Haven’t I always been good. Been good, but not good enough.” I whine and slide down the wall once his hands are off of me. Good lord, where the hell is my dignity. 

He lets me go gently and leaves to make me a peanut butter sandwich. While his back is turned, I grab the bottle one more time and take another long swig. This is where the rest of my night is very fuzzy until I came to in the back of the squad car.

He evidently tried to take the bottle from me, I threw it at him, it went wide and smashed against the wall. He took me to the ground, just tried to keep me from hurting either of us and I screamed at him every vile thing I could think of until the sheriff showed up. They tried to take him in, seeing that I was a sobbing mess on the floor. I told them I tried to hurt him, so they handcuffed me and took me in. Before they drove off, James brought a sweater and my purse out for me. I watched a couple of nosy housewives standing at the end of their drive ways. I’m pretty sure I flipped them the bird and they looked at me with disgust.

Now I’m sitting here, in Mama’s Cadillac, licking my wounds.

“Why in the name of God have you not told me about any of this?” Mama asks, this is now her sixth cigarette. I think she’s trying not to turn the car around.

“I thought you would have told me to get over myself and save face.” I say as we pull to her house.

“No, baby girl, I wouldn’t have. No one, especially not my daughter, deserves to be treated like that. Ooo I never liked the boy. Your daddy used to say that cowboy was all hat and no cattle. Let’s get some sleep, Princess. We will go get your stuff in the morning.”

I make my way to my childhood bedroom and collapse down on the bed. Before I close my eyes for the night, I finally check my phone. He had been blowing up my text messages.

I realize that I have never apologized to you about my short comings. But I swear to you, I will get out of the army if you want me to. We can move anywhere you want to, we can start over, just the two of us. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry that you kept this all from me. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t love you. These where from six hours ago.

I don’t know when you will get your phone back, I love you. This was from before my mom collected me.

They told me you have been released from custody but didn’t say to who. Who ever picked you up asked them not to tell me. Are you safe?

I love you. Please. Let me know where you are, I’ll come get you. I hope that you are just ignoring me because you are asleep.

I reply to him with a simple Mama picked me up. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.

No ‘I love you’ from me tonight although it killed me not to tell him. Tomorrow, I will figure out if what we have can be saved. But that is tomorrow Josie’s problem.

#captain syverson #henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill

[swanimagines]

jenni!! congrats on 2k 💕 i’m so happy for you!!

for 💞: my name’s lee ella, but you can call me leela :) i use the pronouns she/her. i’m only 5’5, but i like to wear big shoes to make up for it platform docs are *chef’s kiss*. my hair’s dark brown and curly and reaches just below my shoulders. i cut it to my chin this summer, but now i’m trying to grow it out (i’m going for a 90s era helena bonham-carter vibe). i honestly could not tell you what color my eyes are even if i tried lol. they’re kinda bluish-greenish most of the time, but sometimes they look grey?? i’ve noticed them being more grey lately so idk what’s going on- anyway, i’m pale and on the skinnier side, and with that and the dark circles under my eyes, i could pass as a tim burton character. at this point, i’ve kinda just embraced it by wearing dark eyeliner on top of the circles because if i’m gonna look tired, might as well make it ✨aesthetic✨. i don’t have any particular style that i stick to in terms of clothes. one day, i’ll have on a grandpa sweater and mom jeans, and the next i’ll be wearing all black. it all depends on my mood that morning, and if i’m really not feeling it, i’ll just wear sweats. i’m an isfp slytherin and an enneagram type 6. for the most part, my personality is an open book. you can almost always tell what i’m thinking based on my face, whether it’s anger or excitement. i’m only ever serious when i’m mad about something; any other time, i’m all jokes and sarcasm. almost all of my emotions are felt to the extreme. when i’m happy, i’m excitable and chaotic, ready to drag my friends out for a laughter-filled adventure. when i’m sad, i shut myself away from people, distancing myself and retreating into my head, where i can overthink everything and make the whole situation worse. i shut myself away when i’m angry, too, so i can have time to cool down and not lash out at someone that doesn’t deserve it and to distract myself until i’ve moved on. despite how quickly i make friends, my social battery gets drained pretty quickly, and i tend to spend more time alone than i do with others. i can be perfectionistic at times, making finishing projects harder than they need to be, and on top of that, i’m a horrible procrastinator. i think my focus plays a lot into that, because i’m either all-in to the point time is irrelevant and i accidentally skip a meal or not at all. i’m one of the oldest people in my friend group, so i can be protective of them, but not necessarily in a motherly way, more of a slightly intimidating older sister kind of way. it hasn’t happened yet, but i’m not above decking a creep in the name of friendship. aside from writing, i like to draw, act, watch movies, daydream, skate, and be a general menace, including, but not limited to, waking my dog from a deep sleep to cuddle, eating the food my mom’s trying to cook/bake with when she’s not looking, constantly popping my joints, and accidentally sending the same meme to people several times in a row bc i didn’t think it went through the first time listen to music. there’s a long list of instruments i’ve told myself i would learn to play but never did, but i have yet to try bass guitar, so maybe one day, that’ll be the one. speaking of my dog, his name is bowie and he’s my favorite living, breathing creature on the whole planet, even if he does get his blonde fur all over my black hoodies- on the flip side, spiders and clowns are my least favorite living, breathing creatures on the whole planet. i think i’m invincible until i see a spider on my bedroom floor and then it’s game over. i also can’t stand anything to do with math 🤢 i can’t sleep without some kind of stuffed animal on the bed and have oddly vivid dreams that are usually really funny. as far as the type of ship, i like both drabbles and headcanons, so just do whichever you’d prefer! i’ve been thinking a lot about little women lately, so of course my laurie laurence obsession has come back, so i’d like to be shipped with him. thank you so muchl!! <3

Aaaahhh so glad to see other people not being able to sleep without their stuffed toy, I mean irl people look at me weird or laugh at me almost every time I tell them of my beloved Dami.

The beach day with the Marchs and Laurie was just what Leela needed from her day. She and Amy were sitting there side by side, sketching. Amy drew the sight what she saw - her sisters playing in the water, but Leela was sketching Laurie. She almost did it unconsiously, until she heard Amy giggle from beside her.

"What?" she surely had a flushed face and she pulled the sketchboard against her chest protectively, which gave it away that she exactly knew what Amy had seen, but she still tried to save the situation.

Amy looked at her face, a smirk playing on her lips. "I knew you like Laurie."

Leela's blush grew even deeper, "No I don't!"

"Yes you do," Amy giggled again, "And it's so cute. You're drawing him and dreamily staring at him all the time. I know it, Jo knows it, Meg knows it, everyone knows it."

"That is not true! He's too fancy for me, I don't like the kind of parties what he hosts, too many snobby people." Leela said, trying to defend herself. But she couldn't deny the fact that she was doing exactly that, she'd know how to draw him even without a reference from how much she had stared at him.

Amy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, still smirking. "Oh? You've never told me you don't like being there. Strange how you still always come along when I invite you if you don't like it. Or then you come along purely because of him..."

"That's different," Leela snapped back, "you're my friend, and Laurie is... a friend too."

"But you wish he would be your boyfriend, right?" Amy smiled as she said that, making Leela's face go bright red again. "Oh trust me, he likes you too. It's obvious, and he's going just as red as you are right now when I point it out. You should have seen his face when I invited you here today."

Leela blushed harder and Amy continued, "So you can stop lying to yourself and just approach him, see what happens."

Leela sighed, standing up. "It's not that easy."

"Why not?" Amy asked, looking up at her.

"Because I'm scared of what might happen. If he gets annoyed with me or thinks I'm a weird-"

"You're afraid of rejection? That's ridiculous! You think he'll reject you? You really are a little silly sometimes, Leela. You act like he's some big scary monster."

"I know that!" Leela said quietly, "He's just a nice guy who doesn't want anything more than friendship. He's not interested in girls like me."

Amy sighed, standing up as well. "Well, I think you should still give it a try."

Suddenly Leela felt a lick on her hand and she looked down. It seemed like Meg had finished in throwing ball with him, and Bowie seemed to sense what Leela and Amy had just been talking about as he turned his face to Laurie, wagging his tail.

"Oh, not you too." Leela murmured.

Laurie came over to them, giving Bowie a pat. "Hey, are you doing okay here?"

"Yes," Amy replied, "But Leela wants to ask you something."

Leela gave Amy a death glare, but Laurie didn't seem to notice it. Amy left the scene and Leela slowly turned to look at Laurie. She knew it was a huge risk for their friendship, but she also knew that Amy was right - she'd have to ask at some point before Laurie would find someone else.

"Um... I was wondering if uh, you'd like to spend time with me. Just you and me."

Laurie raised an eyebrow, "Just us?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, we could go to a walk."

Laurie was quiet for a second, just enough for Leela starting to panic. But then he started to smile. "Sure, sounds good. Would tomorrow be okay for you?" Leela nodded with a wide smile and he smiled back, "Great, I'll pick you up at noon?"

"Noon. Okay. That's fine." she smiled, biting her lip and the boy nodded, smiling at her one last time before turning back to the beach, Bowie running after him with his ball. Laurie chuckled and began to throw it for him, and Leela sat back down with her sketch board, continuing her drawing of Laurie with a whole new feeling, motivation, racing heart and a tingle in her stomach.

Tomorrow was going to be the best day ever.

#jen's 2k ships #2k celebration