Intro!
Name: Lee
Pronouns: they/them
This is my writing blog! I'll post about my story and how it's going on here so everything is organized-ish lol.
Mike Driver
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON

â
Keni
ojovivo
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

occasionally subtle


⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

PR's Tumblrdome
Sweet Seals For You, Always
d e v o n
dirt enthusiast

Janaina Medeiros
Xuebing Du

titsay
AnasAbdin
seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Australia
seen from Armenia

seen from Finland

seen from Singapore
seen from Netherlands

seen from Sweden

seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland
@theconfusedleewrites
Intro!
Name: Lee
Pronouns: they/them
This is my writing blog! I'll post about my story and how it's going on here so everything is organized-ish lol.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Calling all creators who refuse to be boxed in!!
If your work spans multiple mediums or if you've ever felt limited by communities that favor one style over others this might be the space you've been looking for.
MultiMedium Creators Collective is a space made specifically for artists who want to share literally any sort of creative thing without limits or judgment.
- Sketches, paintings, digital art, photography
- Stories, poems, lyrics, scripts, essays
- Beats, songs, soundscapes, video edits
- Crafts, sculptures, fashion, cosplay
- Performance, animations, moodboards
- Experimental hybrids, random ideas, unfinished experiments
- Anything you make yourself!!!
No "wrong medium" rejections. No pressure to specialize. Just real human made work, positive feedback, and a community that actually celebrates the full range of what you create.
If that sounds like the home your creations have been missing, come join us:
https://www.tumblr.com/join/9n2IjaHu
Reblog if you make things that refuse to stay in one category.
He'y'all! New here, so voici my introduction!
The name's Lee, I am a they/them/any user, and I enjoy all forms of art! Atm I'm really into digital art, physical art, animation, writing and music, but I've also dabbled in painting, photography, sculpture and some others!
Have some things!
And a poem?
Was it worth it?
Have your mind as sharp as the arrows you fire,
Your sword polished and steady,
Ensure your soldiers are ready,
And know the plan, the lives that you require to take
All that may be at stake
Your goddess is guiding, and others rebel
While the wood beneath your feet creaks with whispers of the damned,
And the chatter of the guards on the outside grow closer to the vessel,
Remember why you are here.
Your love, back on Ithaca, waiting for your return
Your son, simply an infant the day you left, now a boy
Your kingdom, hoping for the warâs end
Clear your mind. Ready your spear.
It will be worth it.
Fight âtil the battle is won and you are the remaining victor.
Travel âtil you arrive home and find your heart where you left it.
Defend âtil you are out of harmâs way
Lead âtil every last member can be led no longer.
Captain, itâs your duty to steer your crew.
Have your fleet as sturdy as your will,
Your people ready and prideful,
Ensure your friends are content
Ten years of war, it is time to journey back
Your goddess left, many more vengeful
While waves beneath the ship seem to only want your demise,
And even the islands become homes for countless foes,
Remember the goal.
Penelope, Telemachus, Ithaca. Waiting.
Ready your strength, you shall need it.
It will be worth it.
Fight âtil the monsters are gone
Take âtil the gods know their mistakes
Deceive âtil you gain the knowledge you seek.
Loose âtil nothing can be lost
Captain, they are hungry and tired and broken.
Let them rest, let them be
Home is close, but death is closer.
Captain, where is your crew?
The gods look down on you,
This is how you chose to atone?
With blood-soaked stones that seem to cry with the souls of the dead,
And the rooms that feel too quiet and small for anything,
And people who hid in fear to live
While others chose to stand, fight and die.
With all that you have been throughâŚ
Was it worth seeing your wife, your son, your kingdom?
Odysseus, Captain, King
What have you become?
And you can follow my writing blog if you're interested in a story about a circus freak and a plague doctor! @theconfusedleewrites !
Anygays have fun and I hope to see most of you very soon!
Reblog if it's ok for ppl to spam ur inbox with asks. A weird question? Go ahead! Ask game? Yep! A very personal question? OFC!
If anyone's I interested in reading about a colorful circus freak and a nonbinary French undead plague doctor who venture out to find a necromancer, boy do I have something for you!
(I'm writing a story about it)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Part 1.5
Life of the circus
Backstage, the crew was cleaning up, boxes being pushed to the side, performers ducking under the beams the crew carried, weaving around the dozens of ropes, exited chatter of the successful show resonating through tents, sawdust and hay dispersed across tamped mud, the smell of burnt sugar lingering, the glow of the stagelights dimmed along with their warmth, costumes lay disassembled on the racks, the routine unbroken as usual. Montrey was sweeping the inner ring, spotting a particular tall figure looming in the bleacher, still dressed in his performance clothes, clearly eyeing the hooks where the silks and hoops connected. Plume had a heart of gold, but a brain of coal. Montrey sighed, handing the broom over to someone who came close enough to catch it. Slowly, he lugged himself to Plume, sinking onto the bench once more.
''Y'know, dude, it's okay to take breaks.''
''But I wasn't perfect. I can do better'' his eyes glinted with something indistinguishable, perhaps determination, maybe disappointment. Most likely disappointment. His nails were chewed and raw, yet he kept picking at them mindlessly. Montrey glanced at his brother's hands, frowning. Slowly, he tugged on his uniform, pulling Plume down to sit on the bench.
''Later. I mean, none of us are perfect! Look at me! Iâm cleaning lion poop while you get to go on stage,'' Montrey grinned. ''Go sit with Zyrel or something, theyâll kick some sense into that head of yours. Then you can come back and complain. Also have you seen Nolan? Heâs abandoned his cleaning duties,'' he sighed, swooning dramatically, arm draped over his forehead.
''Heâs in the caravans. Itâs his first week, remember? Give him some time. Madame Rosswelt isâŚ'' he trailed off, wracking his mind for a suitable word.
''Problematic.'' He finished. ''Yeah, okay. Fine. Just tell him to come to the tents later, make it seem like heâs working.'' He stood abruptly, ''Anywho, I gotta get back to helping. And I stand by my idea of going to get Zyrel to knock some thoughts into your head. See ya, blondie!'' With a final wave, he scurried down to the ring with the rest of the stage hands, leaving Plume alone with his thoughts once more.
Part 1.4
Life of the circus
(Flashback; â6 years prior)
''You did well, Plume. It's not your fault, champ,'' Seval held a kid no older than nine, comforting him after the ringleader had screamed at him, and the other members backed away as if he carried the plague. Plume shuffled closer, sniffling pathetically. He hadn't meant to. One of the clowns had left their juggling pins in the ring under the stairs. It was crowded, so many people were everywhere, moving, talking, performing. It was too much. Seval held the child, rubbing his back soothingly, his heart aching from the pain of seeing one of his people get damaged.
''It was an accident. It's only an accident. Nothing too bad happened-'' he got cut off by a sob.
''Something bad did happen! Roquil broke his leg- he- I hurt him! And everyone is scared! I scared them! I hurt Roquil and now the others hate me! I made them hate-'' I messed up. I messed up so bad. The others are going to kick me out. First I wreck their costumes, now this. Iâm cursed.
''You made them do nothing. You're only a child, you can't beat yourself up about this. Roquil will get better. The others donât hate you, no one ever will.''
''But what if I trip and push someone over again? What if I make a mistake? What if I do something so bad that Madame Rosswelt throws me out? What if-''
''Plume, listen,'' He couldn't stand the thought of what the ringleader would do. He pulled the kid off, forcing him to look in his eyes, ''I told you, it was an accident. Accidents happen. It's okay. If anything else happens, I'll make sure you're safe.'' Again, he wrapped his arms around Plume, raising him up and carrying him to the caravans to rest.
Seval opened the door to his own wagon, much to Plumeâs confusion. On his bed, he set Plume down. He paused for a moment.
''Wait here. I have something for you.'' He dug in his costume trunk, pulling out a small wooden chest. Smiling, he handed it to the blonde. Curious of its contents, Plume looked up for permission to open it. Seval nodded. The kid nudged the latch up and opened the box, seeing a feather, a gold earring and an old rusty compass. He tilted his head at the items, then at his mentor, hoping he would explain. Seval settled next to him on the bed, gently taking the chest and placing it between them. Plume turned eagerly, sitting himself criss-cross, earning a chuckle from him.
''Iâm going to tell you a story. Itâs a long one, but well worth it, I assure you.'' He paused, preparing himself mentally. ''Once upon a time, there was a young boy. His family was very mean to him, so he ran away. But he didnât have anywhere to go. The boy travelled all alone, until one day a man came up to him and asked âAre you lost?â'' he made his voice deeper, Plume giggling, ''and the boy said no. âMy home is everywhere!â he said to the man. But the man was actually the captain of some pirates. And when he told the boy, he wanted to see the pirate ship and the crew. Maybe he would even be allowed to join them. So the pirate took him aboard his ship, and they sailed with their crew for many years. The captain gave the boy a beautiful compass. âItâs important to know where youâre going, kid,â he said. The boy didnât think he would use the compass. But during big storms, he needed it to guide him through the waves. A few years later, the boy was now a teen. The captain gave him an earring, 'Youâre old enough now. This is to show youâre a pirate at heart.' The teen liked the earring, but didnât see how it would show anything. When they went on land, people seemed to respect him, even when the rest of the crew wasnât around. People were interested in his stories. One day at sea, they were attacked by another group of pirates. The teen managed to escape, but the captain was gone'' Plume gasped, hands flying to his mouth as he cried ânoâ. Seval shushed him, ''Itâs ok, the storyâs not over yet. The teen became an adult, and he travelled on land for some time. He was shopping and met an old man. The old man said something to him, âYou carry bricks on your back. That guilt shouldnât weigh so much. Turn it into feathers, donât let it keep you down, but carry it with you.â But when he wanted to ask what the old man meant, he disappeared. Later that day, a feather landed on his shoulder. And it was then he decided what the old man meant. He wouldnât let his mistakes weigh him down. He imagined them all as bricks, felt how heavy they were in his mind, and he turned them into feathers. He was able to walk taller, and he shared his wisdom with the people he felt needed it. Years later, he found a circus with many people who felt heavy. So he helped them. And eventually he became part of the circus. The end.''
He smiled, putting a finger to his lips, ''Thatâs a secret.''
Plume nodded firmly, ''Itâs safe with me.'' He glanced at the box with the items, picking up the feather, ''I feel heavy sometimes.''
''Mhm, thatâs why I have a gift for you.'' he pulled out a similar chest out of the air, ''Try to find a feather whenever you feel heavy. Put your worries into the feather and collect them in this box. After a while, you wonât remember why you were heavy, and you can look at the feathers with a light heart.''
Part 1.3
Life in the circus
Plume was first when the show ended and everyone came to line up for criticism. He picked at his nails anxiously, eyes darting everywhere but the flylofts. Madame Rosswelt came up to the line with a sneer. Her presence was prominent when she entered, dark hair slicked back in a bun and uniform ironed to the point of looking unnatural. She held her hands behind her back, similar to a military commander. She stopped at Plume.
''I expected better from you, but I guess you just werenât ready. Iâll get Kayla to take your place next show. I donâT know why I even bothered to have you train if this was how you were going to perform. Go help the others clean up. Thatâs enough mistakes for one day.''
Tears pricked his eyes, his shoulders suddenly feeling ten pounds heavier.
''I'll do better! I-I can do better next timeâŚ'' his voice trembled with the faded plea.
''There wonât be a next time until you make no errors, stop talking back to me..'' She decided firmly before moving down the line, delivering judgemental feedback as though everyone had personally insulted her.
Plume felt a soft hand on his hunched shoulders, the thumb rubbing delicate circles on the itchy fabric of his uniform. Seval came. He always did.
''Iâm sorry. I-I wasnât good enough. I messed up. The rope got caught and I panicked and⌠I donât know. I-'' I wasnât ready. They were right.
Seval shushed him, patting his back.
''Itâs ok. Go clean yourself up and come back for clean up.''
He urged him to an exit to the caravans, though he stopped him before he got too far.
''And for the record, Iâm proud of you.'' He consoled, a weak but encouraging smile tugging at his lips before he moved to the next person, who looked like she needed a hug.
Plume sat on his bunk, fiddling with a feather he had found the day prior. It was so soft, so fragile. A single brush the wrong way could mangle it so easily. He ran his fingers along the quill, rubbing the downy feathers between his fingers. He sat up from the bed, crouching to the shared side table. Behind Allenâs secret snack stash, he pulled out a small wooden chest. He sank on the bed, the mattress creaking tragically. Opening it, he placed the new feather on top of all the others he had collected. Finding birds near the circus was far too rare, unless they were used for performances. Oftentimes, when Plume has the chance to see one, it would fly away skittishly. His mind wandered to the memories he had of life before the circus. Even then, he felt trapped, roaming the streets. Now he had support inside the cage. He wondered what it would be like to fly into the sunset, to venture off without the shackles of the human mind. His head snapped up at the sound of the caravan's door opening. In rushed a distressed Nolan. Plume tucked the box under his pillow quickly, scooting over and patting the spot next to him on the bed. Nolan hesitated, glancing out the window, before he took wary steps and sat down.
''I know Iâm new and all but⌠is Rosswelt always so⌠intense, after a show?'' He asked, hoping maybe that because he was a newcomer that he wasnât used to it. To his dismay, the other nodded.
''Sheâs never not intense'' Plume smiled, though it held a knowing pain. ''Wanna talk about it?''
Noland shook his head. He kept his eyes on the floor, ''is it ok if I just sit here for a while?''
Part 1.2
Life of the circus
When the moon had risen in the blanket of darkness and the colored lights glowed like magic, the final show began in the grandstand tent. All the troupes were giving previews of their performances, circling each other methodically, hypnotizing the audience with their dance. Morro and Kova did the trapeze above Lin, Zyrel, Roquil, and Kali as their clown act had them balancing as a human pyramid and falling. Comet did their fire-breathing, Olian and Saron balanced on the tightropes like they always did, and everyone else had their respective acts to execute. Minutes felt like hours as Plume waited in the fly lofts, gazing down at the others with an odd sense of envy at how well they moved in sync. He could see the musicians hidden from the crowd while they set the mood, high and cheerful for the clowns, delicate but sharp for the silt walkers. He would spend hours just watching them if he could. The way they could make the music swell or dwindle with such precision. He was snapped out of his thoughts when a stagehand, Freddy, nudged his shoulder, nodding down at the ring below. Finally, the group of cyr and german wheel performers had rolled out, leaving the stage empty. Plume gathered silks in his arms, tossing them down from the rafters. The silks unfurled on the way down, waving with an odd sort of grace. He hoisted himself over the ledge, gripping the rails as he tried to clear his mind. He took a breath, descending slowly into the view of the spectators.
Lights glared on him as he moved, climbing so smoothly it seemed he was floating, using a spell. He performed, for the first time, in front of the crowd, his heart drumming like a bird trying to escape its cage. The audience held their breath, the world stilled and faded into darkness. The smell of the exotic fragrances and treats dulled, the sound of outside activities muffled. He could taste the nerves and feel the rope burn his hands, sweat beading on his forehead. For a brief moment, his vision cleared, and he could see Montrey behind the curtains giving him a supportive thumbs up that only made his palms sweat more. People are staring at me. All the attention was on him, suspended in the air, tension rising as they waited for the climax. At the top of the rope, he spun, he twisted and moved like a spider, hanging from so little, his limbs tangled in the ropes, and he fell. Part of the act, yet no less terrifying. In one of his twists, his arm got caught in the silk. It lasted barely a second, but he felt it. It threw him off, it sent him down off center, not something the audience would notice, but Madame Rosswelt was sure to point it out. He whirled down the ropes and landed off balance, his breath caught in his throat before he recovered. The crowd went wild with cheers and applause. He bowed, the perfect, poised bow he had practiced thousands of times over. Backstage, Seval smiled proudly, like a father who had witnessed his son win the most important award of his life, yet Madame Rosswelt simply huffed, disappointed. In his mind he went over every tiny movement he failed to execute properly. As Plume rushed behind the heavy red curtains, Seval patted his shoulder firmly. Claire, Montrey, Zyrel and a handful of other entertainers came to congratulate him on the performance, while others went out in the ring. The first act one performed in front of a crowd was the most important, it cemented your place in the circus as part of the team. Part of the family.
Part 1.1
Life of the circus
It was the middle of the day, the sun was out, shining on the tents and attractions, fresh popcorn and sweet smells filled the air. Laughter and sounds of glee rang like a bell while kids' faces glowed with joy as they dragged their parents to see the next thing on their list of wonders. Clair was showing off her lion, waving her hands dramatically and commanding it to amuse the children. Zyrel was honking their clown nose, their painted smile widening as they made yet another balloon animal while riding a unicycle. Seval greeted every new guest with an enthusiastic smile, handing out tickets and guiding families to the best attractions. Madame Rosswelt went from performer to performer, ensuring they had their displays set up properly. In one of the bleaker tents, hidden from public view, Plume practiced his tricks. It was only in the dark, musky tent that he could do so without the fear of guests walking in and watching him fail. Over and over and over. His blonde hair damp against his forehead. His body ached, he avoided mirrors, sparing himself the sight of his bruised body. The few minutes he spared for breaks were used to wrap his feet and hands in bandages, then he was right back at it. Even when his stomach felt hollow and his throat was coarse like sandpaper, he never stopped. He could feel the eyes of Madame Rosswelt only when she decided he was important enough to check on. Montrey came by often, giving slight pointers and doing his best to aid his sibling. The boy was patient, guiding, much like Seval, if Seval were a pre-teen with focus issues and less parental instincts. Yet still, he sat and watched and urged Plume to take breaks to care for himself.
"Dude, you're doing great, stop stressing about it! Rosswelt will be impressed!'' He tried his shot at encouragement.
''I just hope it goes well...'' sulking, Plume plopped himself on the bench next to Montrey.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
The "parts" are not necessary chapters, simply a guide for me to know the plot. Part 1 focuses on Plume, Part 2 focuses on RhĂťme, Part 3 is them meeting, Part 4(if everything goes according to plan) will be a big turning point to Part 5, the big thing+end. Maybe I'll have a Part 6 and have that be like an after story thing, idk. In only at Part 1 right now.
TBD= to be determined(names)
Main characters:
(Part 1)
Plume, He/him
Seval, he/him
(Part 2)
Maria(pre-death RhĂťme), she/her
RhĂťme(post-death Maria), they them
(Part 3)
Plume, he/they
RhĂťme, they/them
Miko, she/her
Side characters:
(Part 1)
Montrey, he/him
Clair, she/her
Zyrel, they/them
Madame Rosswelt, she/her
(Part 2)
-TBD mom-
-TBD dad-
Unknown figure, it/its
(Part 3)
Lottie, she/her
Alyx, she/he
Rayne, they/it
(Part 4?)
Thomas, he/him
Anyone interested in a "short"(idk how long it will be) story about a boy/kid/teen/adult(we see him grow) in a circus with an abusive adoptive mother, a kind adoptive father, and a lot of awesome people and trauma? And then the cool dad disappeared and the guy has to go find him and leave the circus he's been in since he was 4? And then he meets an undead person from the Era of the black death in France and they become besties?
And said undead was actually a little girl who died, came back and became a nonbinary plague doctor for those who need help but eventually the deaths became too much so they ditch medical stuff and instead play music about how to wash your hands properly? But then they dich all heath things and sing about silliness with their banjo in the streets until they hear about a rogue necromancer? And then they try to find said necromancer and instead they find a tall asf circus guy dresses in rainbow and they become besties? And said circus gut is the one I mentioned before?
And they both do their best to hell eachother heal and stuff? With the power of friendship?
Anyone interested?
CALLING EVERYONE!!!!
I need people.
More specifically I'm looking for 2 types.
-those who have wonderful, amazing, outstanding, kind parents/parental figures
-those who have the most horrible, manipulative, problematic, abusive parents/parental figures.
I'm writing a story and I want to properly fvck my character up. And then give him proper comfort.
Let me know your experiences, traits, and overall how it has helped/messed you up.
(I would use my own mother but I don't trust my own judgment and she's a bit of both)
Thank you all, even if you don't share!
So far:
Plume is the Main Character of Part 1(there are 3+parts). In the fist 'chapter' he is in his late teens/early adulthood, still living in the circus. The circus is like his family, he has siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins. The Ringmaster, Madame Rosswelt, is his 'mother' figure(more just most prominent adult woman in his life atm) and is abusive. The toxic, manipulative, taxing, traumatizing type. And then there's her right hand, Seval, who tries to soften the blow of her abuse. He is very much the father to the entire circus. There are families, orpans, random people who came looking for shelter and stayed because they found community. Even if the ringleader is horrible, they're family. Plume was an orphan kid(up to the age of 4) on the streets when Seval found him, and the man tried to hide him from Rosswelt the best he could for months. But when she found Plume she out him right to work, blah blah blah, abuse, trauma, sprinkle some toxic romantic partner at one point, have a lil more trauma, get some hugs, give some hugs, yaayy. And the direction I want to take with this is finally, when a member(probably Seval) goes missing Plume goes out to find him, leaving the circus for the first time.
Sooo... I'll probably post what I got so far later in terms of actual writing. It's a WIP so I'm editing as I go lol, so lots of things might change.
Anygays that's all for now.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming