#but like him just doing his thing at school it’s so interesting to think about idk

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 21

Hey guys!! The story is starting ramp up to the finish line! I hope you guys are still enjoying it as much I enjoyed writing it.

In this we have Steve taking back his agency, Eddie and Jeff having a little chat and Abbadon leaning on his friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

~

As soon as Abbadon grabbed the mic, the audience knew they were going to be in for a ride.

“Las Vegas!” he roared to the crowd, who roared back. “There seems to be some confusion about how naughty I got with Eddie Munson in Denver.”

The crowd went wild, screaming and jumping up and down.

“I never do anything without prior consent,” he grinned. “I’m a gentleman, until you tell me you want it otherwise.” He winked and the crowd screamed back. “I’m not saying I’m coming for Asmodeus’s job,” Abbadon said, draping himself over his guitarist’s shoulders, “but I’m no innocent. I don’t need protection.” He walked across the stage to Astraeus. “I’ve always been affectionate. But I think it’s time to be put the rumors to bed.”

“Oooooohhhhhh!” Asmodeus and Astraeus shouted and got the crowd to say it with them. Once they were loud enough, Azrael started rapidly tapping his drums to further build up tension.

Just when Abbadon was sure the tension couldn’t stretch much further he said, “I’m not a slut. I’m the slut!” The throng of people roared back. “And I’m not going to hide who I am to make myself palpable to people I’ve never met or no longer have any connection to me. I am Abbadon! I AM THE FALLEN!”

Waiting in the wings was Jeff and Eddie. They had gathered to watch Steve do this in person instead of watching it live in the green room.

Jeff cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “Whatever else you think of Abbadon and the rest of the band, you have to admit the man has charisma.”

Eddie pressed his lips together and nodded. He was proud of Steve. Of course he was, but it did sting a little that it took Shane to get him to talk about it. Not him, Not Robin. Hell, not even Simon, whom Eddie thought was unhealthily close to Steve. Shane. Of all the band members, Shane had the least in common with Steve. Spence had the EMT thing, Simon, the upper class upbringing. Other than them liking metal, they couldn’t be further apart then if God planned it that way.

Shane came from a middle class liberal family with an older sister he was close with. Hell, he even still talked to his parents while Steve definitely did not. He was a giant nerd who loved history and myths. Steve struggled in school and only made it out alive because he was on three sports teams and captains of two of them. Shane even slept around to Steve’s search for ‘the one.’ Which Eddie really, really hoped was him.

But maybe that was it. Maybe the reason Shane could get through to Steve was because they didn’t have much in common. Maybe their connection were their differences. That they were friends in spite of the gap between them.

Eddie almost wanted to get Steve into therapy like Gareth was. Because even though it always seemed to him that Gareth was one drink away from destruction these days, the therapy did appear to be working.

Steve could really use something like that.

They watched the set a little bit longer.

“Are you sure you’re okay with Abbadon flirting with Gareth?” Jeff asked.

Eddie blinked for a moment wondering where the comment was coming from. Because, sure, Gareth had talked non-stop about Abbadon being his favorite member, even going as far as to tattoo Abbadon’s mask on his left bicep. But Gareth didn’t seem interested in Abbadon as a person.

And it wasn’t like Steve was really interested in him that way before or after becoming a rockstar.

“Gareth and Abbadon both say it’s fine,” he murmured after a moment or two. “And I trust Abbadon.”

Jeff hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah okay. So this time it’s not going to be the duet?”

“No, I don’t want a repeat of last time. Abbadon is going to be taking the lead vocals on ‘Might as Well Fly’, I think he’ll lend a haunting quality to it.”

Jeff pursed his lips. Steve definitely had the pipes for it, but it wasn’t the song out of their discography that he would have chosen for Abbadon to shred.

Eddie huffed beside him and crossed his arms in front of him. “Let me guess, you have other ideas?”

“Can Abbadon play guitar?” Jeff asked rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I guess. He’s like able to play piano, violin, and guitar. Can he play the song you’re thinking of is the real question.”

Jeff turned to him with a grin. “Oh, if I know our friend as well as I think I do, he knows it.”

Eddie frowned at him and cocked his head to the side. “Which one?”

Jeff told him and Eddie rubbed his lips, skeptical. It was a good song. Harder than ‘Might as Well Fly’ and faster too. It had an extra guitar to it because it originally featured a famous guitarist. But it was also the lead guitar on that song.

“Do you really think he can do it?” he asked, licking his upper lip slowly.

Jeff scoffed, “Why? Do you think he can’t?” Eddie just shrugged. “Because holy hell, dude, I was talking to Asmodeus and he was telling me they formed their band over their love of our music. I’m betting if you asked Abbadon he could list his favorite albums alphabetically, chronologically, or which one is best musically. Even before you guys got together, before their band, before we even got a record deal, he’s been your number one fan. And he’s got the chops for it. You know he does.”

Eddie looked around to make sure no one had heard Jeff’s impassioned speech. He ducked his head. “Have Abbadon meet us before we go on to discuss the change while they setup our equipment.”

Jeff grinned and licked his lips. “You won’t regret this. And neither will they.” He jutted his chin out at the roaring crowd.

And yeah, Eddie knew he was being ridiculous about the song. He was trying to play this safe, but Steve didn’t need safe right now. He needed to take back his agency and Eddie knew that this song? It was fucking perfect for Steve. They would be able to feed off the roar of the crowd and give Steve a chance to really show them how good he is.

~

Steve loved the idea of the change in song. Don’t get him wrong, he loved ‘Might as Well Fly’. It just wasn’t the vibe he was trying to send today. Steve already was flying. Now he was raging at the people who were trying to clip his wings. And fuck them.

It meant that he couldn’t start on Gareth’s lap, but that was okay. This was going to be better. A hell of a lot better.

He pulled on his Corroded Coffin logo lined coat and swapped his mask for the lighter everyday one. He was going to need the extra movement for these vocals. He started in the middle again, this time in front of Corroded Coffin instead of between them.

“Hey, Las Vegas!” Eddie cried. “You bitches ready to rock?”

The crowd screamed back and Eddie laughed. “We’ve got a treat for you tonight!” The crowd screamed even louder. “We don’t usually play ‘Nightmare Killer’ because we don’t have that third guitarist.”

The audience went wild, screaming and whistling and stomping their feet in excitement.

“We asked Asmodeus,” Eddie continued. “But he’s too cool for us!” The crowd made teasing booing noises and oohhed. “But that’s okay, we found someone else willing to play.”

The room fell to a hush as Abbadon’s spotlight came on. There was some uneasy wrestling from the audience as he stood with his ear mic and white guitar. Something that eagle-eyed fans would know about Eddie and Jeff was that they didn’t own a white guitar. And all The Fallen fans knew that all of Asmodeus’s guitars were red and vaguely devil themed. This wasn’t his either. This was clearly Abbadon’s.

Abbadon began the opening riff and the crowd took a massive intake of breath as he sailed perfectly through the chunky bits of the original artist’s style. Then he began to sing, the haunting quality of his voice filling in the gaps of the silence that seemed to stretch on from the audience.

Eddie didn’t even bother trying to hold back the look of admiration on his face as he joined Abbadon for the chorus. Their vocals mixing beautifully to the backdrop of a hell beast looking for more from life than the violence it was weaned on.

Throughout the song the only sounds from the crowd were clapping in time to the beat. Eddie had never seen anything like at their concerts before. It was like there was this reverence for what was happening on stage.

Abbadon ate it up and played it up as he enticed the members of Corroded Coffin to him. Each of the members resisted. Then Abbadon handed his guitar off to a roadie and climbed the stairs to the platform that Gareth was on. He straddled Gareth’s lap and drumming cut out as his bandmates played on. From behind it looked like they were kissing, but with Abbadon’s mic off they were making fun of each other. Then suddenly he whirled on Gareth’s lap and hit the drums right on the last note with a crash.

Then in an instant the crowd thundered to life, cheering and stomping and clapping.

Abbadon blew Gareth a kiss and leapt off the platform to take his bows. The flutter of the coat revealing the Corroded Coffin logo again and the crowd screamed even louder. He blew kisses to the crowd and continued to bow. Eddie whistled loudly and Abbadon laughed.

Eddie grabbed the microphone. “Abbadon everyone! One very talented son of bitch! Another round of applause everyone!”

The crowd continued to go wild. Abbadon let out a whoop and jumped up and down, laughing. It was exhilarating, everyone just feeding the energy back to Abbadon and just feeling high off that. Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and Jeff winked. Eddie shook his head. Because yeah, Jeff won that bet.

Abbadon waved goodbye and walked off the stage. Once he was out of view of the audience Hopper swooped in and immediately threw a cool, damp towel over his head and Steve nearly sank to his knees in relief. Because try as they might, the hoods were still fucking hot. Hopper lead him to the dressing room where the rests of The Fallen were waiting.

As soon as the door closed tightly behind Abbadon, Steve pushed back the hood and ripped off the mask. His hair was wet and sweat clung to his face and neck. He let himself sink slowly into the soft cushions of the sofa and laid his head back.

A bottled water was being pushed into his hand and an ice pack was placed on his brow. He let out a small shuddering breath. He opened the water and dumped half of it on his face and the rest into his mouth.

“Thanks, guys,” Steve muttered, his eyes fluttering shut. “How did I look out there?”

Simon huffed a little a laugh. “Like fucking rock god.”

“I’m with Simon,” Spence said. “It won’t silence the naysayers but it’ll drown them out which is even better.”

Steve laughed. “Fuck that was so much fun. Gareth called me a queen. So I called him a bitch. I honestly don’t know if he likes Abbadon more now, or less!”

“Considering how little time you had to prepare,” Shane said, sprawled over an armchair instead of on the floor for a change, “I say you kicked ass. You’re going to get people saying you weren’t really playing but, they can suck your dick!”

Steve lifted his head, the ice pack sliding into his hand. “I hate doing this without you guys, though,” he admitted. “But as Shane pointed out, I’m already super affectionate with you already and short of French kissing Simon, they aren’t going to believe shit.”

“Nothing against you, Steve,” Simon said with a wince, “but I really don’t want your tongue down my throat.”

Shane raised his hand. “I volunteer! I volunteer!”

They all laughed. Then Robin as Celeste slipped in and sat next to Steve. She grabbed the ice pack and pressed it to the back of her neck. They all waited as she let her defenses slowly come down. She pulled off the wig and tossed it Spence who caught it deftly.

“Vickie has been working tirelessly tonight to keep an eye on social media,” Robin began, “she even has two of her assistants watching all the accounts, constantly refreshing.”

Steve turned on the couch to face her. “And what are they saying?”

Simon and Spence immediately moved over to her to sit on either side of her and Steve. Shane sprawled over the back like some Renaissance painting. He rustled her hair and she huffed out a laugh.

“You’re getting the trolls from both fans shit talking about how Abbadon is better than Corroded Coffin and should have turned them down like Asmodeus,” she continued, pausing only for Simon’s huff of laughter. “The Corroded Coffin fans were whining about how Abbadon’s vocals ruined the song and that he probably faking the guitar playing for the views.”

“I’d like to see them fake that bridge,” Steve scoffed. “It’s insane.”

Simon nodded. “I don’t think I could do it.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll post a Tiktok of me trying to play it.”

“Wait!” Spence said. “Have Steve do it first, showing a close up of the hands dancing on the frets. Then you stitch it with your version. That should kick them in the ass.”

Steve and Simon fist bumped each other. “Hell yeah!”

“But the rest of the tweets and shit coming in is overwhelmingly positive,” Robin finished. “So that Tiktok should silence the Corroded Coffin fans.”

When Simon did his stitch of Steve’s video he made sure to admonish their fans about thinking who’s better than who. He was friends with the boys in CC and the being ‘too cool’ was a fucking joke.

Then Eddie did a stitch of both of their videos and showed them again how complicated the riff was for Abbadon to play by playing it himself. Abbadon and Asmodeus’s videos racked up a lot of views and shares, but Eddie’s really did the numbers. It blew up and completely overshadowed all the haters.

Steve made sure to thank Eddie for that later in the privacy of Eddie’s hotel room.

`

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[calsrottencorpse]

would I hug, kiss on the cheek, kiss on the lips, or get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 with criminals

got bored..👅

Eric Harris

Ok.. realistically, I dont think he'd like me in the first place, but most people on here likely wouldn't either, but, if we ignore that, I'd give him a peck on the cheek, hes a cutie imo

Dylan Klebold

..even with all things considered, id still kiss him on the lips. Even if yes, hes got a foot fetish, and also a bondage enjoyer, but I could care less about both, shrug. I also think he's pretty cute

Leighton Allen Labute (DollyFlesh)

Believe it or not, I had no idea he was a criminal, at first I just thought he was another bobby lemon situation (funnily enough, they're both Canadian), but I looked him up and found out he was arrested for two accounts of murder and abuse (of animals). But anyways, what would I do? Nothing, at most maybe a hug.. but in all honesty I don't think I want to hug him, he's also not a looker, but i think thats because of his hair, it looks like a wig, specifically kinda like those wigs that George Washington and whoever wore but black

Elliot Rodgers

He's cute, but I think he'd be insufferable, I don't know much about him, or his case, but from what I know, I really don't think I could deal with him, then again, I have known people who are likely worse, and I honestly have a high tolerance (in my opinion at least) but im getting off topic. I would at least kiss him on the cheek.. but I don't think he'd let me anyway...

Adam Lanza

He freaks me out, he always looks shell-shocked, or like he just saw the worst thing imaginable. But he's not bad looking. But I'd probably only hug him..

Andrew Blaze

I feel like out of all of these people, she'd be the only one I'd get along with, even if just a little bit. Mainly because we share similar interests, but she also just seems like she'd be the only one who I wouldn't feel like I would get murdered, doxxed or threatened every day if i stopped being friends with them. Kiss on the lips, or perhaps freaky tiem👅👅

Ted Bundy

no.

Pekka-eric Auvinen

As much as I love him and his case, I don't think I'd get freaky, hell, I probably wouldn't kiss him on the lips, even if i want to, he intimidates me lowkey. At most a hug, or if I feel braver, kiss on the cheek

Artyom Anoufriev

i know just about jack shit about him and Nikita, so forgive me for not saying much, but I think id just give him a hug

Nikita Lytkin

Don't know much about him like I said earlier. Maybe a side hug, I feel like he spells horrible, I would probably try not to breathe though my nose around him

Jeffery Dahmer

I can't help but think of my half-brother who is also named Jeffrey, and gay. Maybe I'll give a hug .. he intimidates me, but he also seems chill

Brandon Hole

Only giving him a hug, funky looking dude, his head looks like an upside down pear that's starting to bruise. Probably smells. We share a few similar interests, I guess

Dylann Roof

I know a dude or two at my school who look like him and are completely insufferable. Don't know much about his case to be honest, but i think I'd give him a kiss on the cheek, he kinda cute.. kinda

Thomas Matthew Crooks

Oh.. it's freaky time for sure vro👅👅 (thats mostly a joke)

These are all the people I can think of currently👅

Extras!!

Cal

Hm... if this was earlier on when I first joined the tcc, I'd say freaky time, but I think i'll just give him a kiss on the cheek

Andre

That one scene where he gets on his knees with the shotgun in-between his legs while he conceals it... ughdjsj I converted from Cal to Andre.. I love Andre.. I don't think i have to say my answer atp

Alex (Elephant)

I didn't really get much from elephant when I watched it, I was very confused, started to understand and got confused again. But this is about Alex, not the movie he's in. He's good looking for sure, but I think I'll just kiss him on the cheek

Eric (Elephant)

hmmm..also kiss on the cheek

Dylan and Eric in Zero Hour

Sorta random but when I was trying to find the actors names, on the IMB page it says that Eric and Dylan themselves played as themselves😭😭🙏 like ah yes, they brought them back to life just to film this!! Anyways, they're both fine, though still probably just gonna kiss them on the cheek / lips

[engie-ivy]

(Trying something new. Love to hear if you like🙂)

1021 words

High School Conversations

Edgar Bones

“So, how about it, Lupin?”

“... Come again?”

“You. Me. Drinks. It ain't rocket science.”

“No, I actually understand rocket science. You're not making any sense.”

“I want to take you on a date, Lupin.”

“But…why?”

“Why not?”

“For starters, I'm a loner who likes to spend his free time reading a book, while you're a star athlete who's almost the most popular guy at school.”

“Almost?”

“Well, there's-”

“Okay, okay, I know. Don't mention him.”

“So, it's ridiculous for you to want to go on a date with me.”

“It's ridiculous for someone like you to say no to someone like me.”

“‘Someone like me’ might not want to date someone he has so little in common with.”

“Don't be difficult, Loopy.”

"Calling me that won't increase your chances.”

“You should be grateful I'm even willing to spend my time on you.”

“You know what, Bones? Here's my answer: Fuck. You.”

Marlene McKinnon

“Hi there, Loopy Lupin.”

“Good god, what's going on today?”

“Why, that's not a very kind greeting.”

“Why are you talking to me, McKinnon?”

“I heard Edgar Bones asked you out.”

“And I said no, so don't worry, he's all yours.”

"The fact that you'd think I'd be interested in Bones is even more insulting than that rude greeting of yours.”

“I just don't understand what's going on today. First the school's jock, now the head cheerleader. Honestly, is it Talk to a Geek Day or something?”

“No, I think that's in March.”

“What is it, McKinnon?”

“I just want to ask you some questions.”

“I'm really not in the mood for-”

“Question Number One. Who is the most popular guy in school?”

“Sirius Black, of course. With his bad boy-image and that leather jacket of his, but his still perfect grades, that effortless charisma that lets him get away with anything, his guitar playing and that voice, his impossibly attractive smile, and that always-perfect-hair…”

“...”

“Or, ehm, at least that's what all those girls pining after him would say.”

“Of course. Your cheeks have turned a bit red there, Loopy.”

“So is your next question going to be who the most popular girl in school is? If you're just fishing for compliments you could've just said so.”

“Cute how you think I'd need your confirmation. But no, my next question is who is the second-most popular guy in school.”

“Edgar Bones.”

“What, no raving monologue for Bones?”

“Shut it, McKinnon.”

“And how would you describe the relationship between Black and Bones?”

“What is this, Twenty Questions?”

“I hope I won't need twenty, no. Answer this one please.”

“A rivalry. Or, well, a one-sided rivalry, that is. I don't think Black ever wastes much of his time on Bones, but Bones is obsessed with outdoing Black.”

“Like how?”

“Well, when Black wants a motorcycle, Bones wants a motorcycle, when Black gets his ears pierced, Bones gets his ears pierced, when Black starts a band, Bones starts a band. Basically, Bones wants everything Black wants.”

“Exactly. Now, how would a clever boy such as yourself combine this information with Bones asking you out?”

“... I don't know.”

“Oh, I think you do, Loopy. I think you do.”

“No, because the logical inference of the information you're presenting would be that Black wants… me, and there's no logic to be found in that.”

“Black fancies you, Lupin.”

“No. Just… No.”

“Yes. Just yes.”

“McKinnon, maybe for a head cheerleader the most popular guy in school fancying you is within the realm of possibility, but not for us geeky bookworms.”

“Ask Black out, then you'll see.”

“Is this a prank?”

“I'm wounded, Loopy. You think me so cruel?”

“The head cheerleader playing a prank on me is more likely than the high school heartthrob fancying me.”

“Well, since you're so obsessed with the head cheerleader-thing, let me put it this way.

Hey, Hey, Hear Me Cheer,

Hey, Hey, Hear Me Shout,

Lupin Should Ask Black Out!”

“Oh, for god sakes, please stop!”

“Lupin Might Be Geeky As Hell,

Black Just Thinks He's Swell!”

“Please get off the table!”

“Hey, Hey, Lupin Boy,

I've Got News You Might Enjoy!”

“I'll do it, okay? Just stop! Stop, and I'll ask him out.”

“Thank you.”

“You're a nightmare. I don't know why Dorcas likes you so much.”

“Wait, what?”

Sirius Black

“Oh, hello, Lupin.”

“Ehm, hi. So, ehm, a little birdie told me…”

“Mmm, was it a cheering birdie named Marlene?”

“Yup. Look, I know that a guy like me should drop to his knees and praise the lord if a guy like you would even breathe in his direction…”

“What are you talking about?”

“That you're probably expecting me to be grateful for any bit of attention you're willing to pay me, but…”

“Wait, what? Lupin, if anything, you are out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“Gods, you're so smart, and you read so many books, while I hardly ever read, and you have such an amazing dry sense of humour, with all those sharp, sarcastic remarks, you make my pranks seem juvenile, and I wear leather jackets and band tees, sure, but you can just wear cardigans and sweater vests and still look so unique and cool, and you have this calming presence over you, like when you're reading and you're chewing your lip in that way that you do…”

“You… you've noticed me.”

“Of course I have. You think I would fancy you without knowing anything about you?”

“Well, yeah. I thought… I didn't think… I don't know, I thought maybe you were bored or something?”

“This is not about me being bored, or about me wanting to shock people, or about me trying to stir the pot, or anything about me really. This is about you. You as a person.”

“You actually…”

“Yeah, I actually.”

“I… I promised that I would… No, screw that. I want to ask you out.”

“I think it's clear by now I would very much be okay with that.”

“Good god, I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but Sirius Black, will you go out with me?”

“I'd love to, Remus Lupin.”

[uns4lted]

ꜱᴏ ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴘᴛ. 2 ᴡ/ ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ ʜʏᴏᴍᴀ, ɴᴀɢɪ ꜱᴇɪꜱʜɪʀᴏ, & ʙᴀᴄʜɪʀᴀ ᴍᴇɢᴜʀᴜ

characters: blue lock pairings: chigiri x gn! reader, nagi x gn! reader, bachira x gn! reader genre: fluff a/n: as promised, here's so high school pt. 2 with chigiri, nagi, and bachira! might do reo, rin, and sae next, who knows? :>

drabble series: So High School pt. 1

── .✦ chigiri hyoma

The field is alive with energy as Chigiri sprints down the sideline, his crimson hair flying like a streak of fire behind him. You’re standing in the crowd, eyes locked on him as he moves—swift, elegant, and completely in his element. There’s something about the way he commands the field that keeps you glued to the spot, heart pounding a little harder with each of his strides.

Your friends are talking beside you, cheering, but it all fades into the background. The only thing you can focus on is him. Chigiri, with his effortless speed and quiet confidence, seems untouchable. It’s like he’s in a world all his own, unreachable, and yet, here you are, hopelessly caught up in his orbit.

As he slows down for a moment, his eyes sweep over the crowd—and your breath catches in your throat. His gaze locks on yours. It’s brief, just a fleeting second, but it’s enough to send your heart into overdrive.

For the smallest moment, Chigiri’s lips curl into a smile—barely noticeable, but there. You blink, wondering if you imagined it. But no, that smile was real. And just like that, he’s back in the game, his attention on the ball, leaving you standing there, heart racing, cheeks warm.

The match goes on, but you can’t stop replaying that moment in your mind. The way his eyes found yours in the crowd, the quiet smile that made everything around you blur. It feels like nothing… and yet, it feels like everything.

Maybe he’s just like that—carefree, always in motion, noticing things in passing. But you can’t help but wonder if, for just a second, you stood out in his world too.

── .✦ nagi seishiro

The classroom is quiet, sunlight streaming through the windows as you sit next to Nagi, working on a project. Well, you’re working—he’s sprawled in his chair, his head resting on the desk, more interested in his phone than in the papers scattered between you. His eyes are half-lidded, and his white hair falls messily over his face, giving him that effortlessly cool look. You try to focus, but it's hard when he's so close.

“Sei,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “We’re supposed to be working on this.”

He doesn’t even look up, just mumbles, “This is boring… Can’t we do it later?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a part of you that’s amused. That’s just how Nagi is—lazy, laid-back, like nothing really matters. It drives you crazy sometimes, but there’s something oddly comforting about his presence too. You glance over at him again, and this time he’s staring at you, his phone forgotten.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

He blinks, slowly, like he’s deciding whether or not to speak. “You’re too serious about this stuff. It’s just a project.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then he reaches over, poking your cheek with a lazy grin. “Relax,” he says, his voice soft, “You’re cute when you’re stressed, but it’s not worth it.”

Your face warms instantly, and you turn away, trying to hide your reaction. But Nagi’s still looking at you, now with a small, satisfied smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Let’s just take a break,” he suggests, stretching his arms over his head and settling back into his seat. His hand lingers on yours for a second, barely noticeable, but enough to make your heart skip.

You try to focus on your work, but it’s impossible now. With him sitting there, so close yet so distant, and his words still echoing in your mind, all you can think about is that tiny, fleeting touch—and how much you wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

── .✦ bachira meguru

It’s well past school hours, and most of the campus is empty, but not you and Bachira. He had this wild idea to sneak onto the soccer field after everyone left—because why not? With Bachira, things always seem to happen that way, random and spontaneous, like he’s chasing something only he can see.

You’re both lying on the grass now, staring up at the fading sky, your backpack discarded somewhere behind you. Bachira rolls onto his side, a playful grin on his lips, his golden eyes catching the last bit of sunlight. “You ever wonder what it’d be like to just… run forever?” he asks, his voice quiet but full of that childlike excitement you’ve come to associate with him.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Run forever? No thanks. I’d probably pass out after five minutes.”

He laughs, that infectious sound that always makes you smile no matter how hard you try to stay serious. “Nah, not like that,” he says, nudging your shoulder. “I mean, like… running after something, but not knowing what it is. Just running because it feels right.”

Typical Bachira. Always chasing something, even if it’s only in his head. You turn your head to look at him, and for a moment, he’s quiet—something rare for him. His gaze is fixed on the sky, but there’s something softer in his expression, like he’s thinking about something that matters more than his usual playful antics.

“What are you chasing, then?” you ask, half curious, half teasing.

He glances at you, and his smile shifts into something more sincere. “I don’t know yet,” he says, shrugging, “but maybe I’ll know when I catch it.”

For a second, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s fleeting, though, because in the next moment, he’s sitting up, springing to his feet and offering you a hand.

“Come on,” he says, his grin returning. “Let’s go! Race me!”

You laugh, taking his hand as he pulls you up, already sprinting ahead like he always does—like he’s chasing something that might just be you.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[qiu-yan]

2 and 21 for mdzs please?

sorry for the wait!

choose violence ask game

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

in terms of "compelling" arguments, i've got nothing. in terms of bullshit arguments i pulled out of my ass, though....

of course, the easy way out is to argue that jiang cheng is asexual and therefore would never come into sexual contact with anyone. an equally easy way out is to argue that jiang cheng is so rizzless that, even if he wanted to top or bottom, no one would do it with him....that's the easy way out of this question, though.

my own opinion is that, if jiang cheng were attracted to men and/or had a partner who was into pegging, he would have way too much internalized homophobia to give bottoming a try. even if he somehow got over himself enough to admit that he was into men (already impossible), he would still buy into the ancient-greek school of thought on homosexuality, wherein "ackshually it's only gay if you're on the bottom." he would be fully convinced that, if he were to bottom - and worse, if he were to enjoy it - he would become Less Man on an existential level. this would absolutely kill him inside, would make him actively more homophobic than if he were just straight or asexual, and would make him a nightmare for any other man to hook up with.

but of course, the more you adamantly refuse to even consider something - the more you fear something, in other words - the more you end up obsessing over it. if jiang cheng were actually hooking up with men in this scenario (entirely possible because he's like 6ft tall and probably can host because he's rich, which makes him a prime catch in the eyes of like 90% of grindr), he would adamantly refuse to bottom. he'd declare himself a hard top. but would he actually enjoy himself? or would he, as he topped in a lackluster manner whichever men were unfortunate enough to give him a chance, imagine himself in their position - first with disgust, as he told himself he was different than them; then with terror, as he feared that he might one day end up in their position; and then with something else?

because jiang cheng's fear - that he might one day bottom and enjoy it - would quickly mutate into a full-on psychosexual obsession with the concept of bottoming itself. because it's repression king jiang cheng we're talking about, said obsession would eventually become one of those things you're so afraid of that your fear ends up wrapping back around and turning into a fetish. because it's jiang cheng we're talking about, this would then lead to him actually bottoming one day. and then, because it's jiang cheng we're talking about and the universe hates him, he would actually end up enjoying it.

does his mindset change? maybe. or maybe he just becomes Worse.

i feel like i've ended up doing the opposite of answer the question.....sorry.....these are my honest thoughts, though.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

i'm going to get killed for this, but that's the purpose of this ask game, so i'll be honest....."lan wangji as Love Interest." of course, by this i do not mean to say "lan wangji himself." rather, what i mean is the way in which lan wangji is a "love interest" first and a "character" second. in my view, the story is only really interested in lan wangji as "the guy who loves wei wuxian and is unquestioningly devoted to him," rather than interested in lan wangji as a character in his own right.

of course, the story spills a lot of ink on how much lan wangji loves wei wuxian, how much lan wangji has sacrificed for wei wuxian, how unquestioningly devoted lan wangji is to wei wuxian, and so on. and while this is all true and good, in my view, there are also several other interesting angles in lan wangji's story worth exploring. however, these angles instead seem rather neglected by the story, which appears to only want to discuss "lan wangji's devotion to his One True Love."

some angles i consider to be interesting, and which i felt like went underexplored in canon:

how much of lan wangji's support of wei wuxian is because he believed wei wuxian was right, and how much of it is because he loves wei wuxian and does not want to lose wei wuxian again? where does lan wangji's personal romantic love end and his moral compass begin? the novel equates [standing with wei wuxian] with [being righteous], but it is exceedingly easy to design a situation where the morally righteous path entails sacrificing wei wuxian in some way - how would lan wangji behave in such a situation? if wei wuxian himself had not protected the wen remnants (due to canon divergence or whatever), would lan wangji have spoken up for the wen remnants?

to what degree does lan wangji agree with wei wuxian's actions and consider said actions to be morally justified? comparatively, to what degree does lan wangji consider wei wuxian's actions to be morally questionable, and simply wants to shoulder wei wuxian's sins with him out of love? does lan wangji know and/or believe that wei wuxian killing jin zixuan was a genuine accident? if he does not know, does he care?

what does lan wangji's relationship with his family look like? on one hand, in his failed bid to save wei wuxian, he injured 33 of his own sect's elders, which under confucian principles is a massive wrongdoing. have the injuries of these elders healed? does lan wangji feel guilty? on the other hand, lan wangji's family betrayed both him and the moral principles they espoused, by first nearly whipping lan wangji to death and then joining the first siege of the burial mounds. does lan wangji resent his family for this? does he resent lan xichen and lan qiren, or does he understand that they had argued the punishment down from execution? is that why, after lan xichen's world shattered at the guanyin temple in yunping, lan wangji was able to immediately leave the premises with wei wuxian in tow, without once checking in on his brother?

what does lan wangji think of his late parents? does he want to know why his mother killed his father's teacher, or would he rather not know? does his family keep the knowledge from him, or does he avoid the knowledge himself? what does he think of his father's actions - to him, is his father someone who fell from the path of duty and righteousness for the sake of love, someone who selfishly abandoned his duties and forced his responsibilities onto his younger brother, and/or someone who imprisoned lan wangji's mother against her will and perhaps even forced himself onto her? does lan wangji know whether or not he was conceived consensually? does this bother him?

given the whole history of lan wangji's parents, how does lan wangji view his own, how should i say, sexual interests? lan wangji did once pin down a struggling wei wuxian and forcibly kiss him; would lan wangji make a connection between the nonconsensual nature of this deed and the imprisonment of his mother? furthermore, wang and xian's relationship postcanon seems to have an element of d/s and noncon roleplay to it (which i'm not judging them for, good for them); would that also remind lan wangji of how his father and his father's sect brought about the imprisonment of his mother? or are these two separate things entirely?

in my view, these are all highly interesting aspects of lan wangji's story - and all of these are implied by details given in canon. however, canon shirks discussing these aspects of lan wangji's character in favor of focusing on him as the Male Lead: rather than explore any of these angles, which would further define lan wangji as a person, canon seems far more interested in single-mindedly focusing on how sad lan wangji was that wei wuxian died, how tragic the loss of his One True Love was, and how wholeheartedly happy lan wangji is now that wei wuxian has come back and returns his feelings.

to me, it feels like this guy got sanded down from a "full individual" to a "love interest." it feels to me like the story gives us some details about lan wangji's own life, but then nonetheless insists on reducing him from a person in his own right to a satellite that revolves around wei wuxian (the story's real favorite). because of this, MDZS the novel read as less the wei wuxian and lan wangji story, and more the Wei Wuxian story starring Wei Wuxian, in which lan wangji is a love interest first and a person second.

i forget if i said this before or if i read it from someone else's blog, but it does feel like, if you want to love lan wangji on his own, you have to do a lot of the heavy lifting yourself. or at the very least scrub all the male lead energy off of him first, so that the individual underneath can be revealed.

[ruepotterblack]

I just had an argument with my best friend about whether or not you should mark books and it got me thinking, something I don't usually do very much to be honest.

Regulus is one of those who loves to scratch his books, at first it was uncomfortable for him to do so because he had no idea what to write, But over time he began to write long notes that adorned the margins of the pages of his favorite books.

It may be a very cliché thing for the character, but it is very personal to me.

He wrote things about comments that he found interesting, funny or profound about the characters or the narrative of the text.

He also wrote about the author's style or some metaphors that went unnoticed in his first reading of the book but that on a second or third reading he managed to understand and went on to express his fanaticism for the writer's ingenuity in choosing certain resources to tell the story.

I hope that by now you understand where I'm going with this.

He also liked to remember his thoughts about a book he read and see if later he still thought the same thing or if those thoughts had changed. He made fun of himself about some of the notes and answered himself as if his younger self could see the notes too.

Something that he also started doing with his school textbooks, homework he needed to do, topics he had to review or simply notes from class that he was too lazy to write on his notebook.

But one day, out of nowhere, he started jotting down notes about a particular boy, one he thought he hated, but his notes were completely romantic about him.

I skip his novels without romance, or tragic romance, and prefer where the main couple ends up together happily ever after.

Maybe you know where this is going. I'll leave it here for now, because my lunch break at work is over.

[siriuslychessi]

For September's @jilychallenge partner @petalsthefish

Wordless

AO3 | FF

Prompt: A new teacher for DADA assigns partners for the year and you are partnered with your worst nightmare (your crush’s best mate or your crush him/herself)

Magnus Elderberry had been Hogwarts’ 6th DADA Professor in as many years since the class of ‘77 started attending it. It seemed that no matter what the school could not keep a Professor for that class no matter how good they were. They were not sure if it was the lack of payment, or if the rumour that the job was cursed was true. 

The older man was strict but he made sure that along their rigorous syllabus they would also have practical lessons. 

“This first term you will be paired with the same classmate, the distribution will be aleatory as we do not play favourites in this classroom. You will all learn nonverbal spells and since this is a taxing endeavour your partner will become both an ally and a competitor. At the end of term there will be a nonverbal duel tournament, the best partners will gain 100 points to their houses.”

A collecting murmur could be heard through the classroom, there was something terrible about being stuck with someone you despised, but the promise of 100 points for duelling had the class excited. 

The names were taken out from a bowl one by one, and Lily watched every piece of paper with such force she actually thought that she would be able to change the name on the paper if needed. 

Last year she had a fall out with her best mate, Severus Snape, and after that she did not want to be stuck with him as a partner for the next foreseeable future. Yet the name that was paired with hers was not a Slytherin, but a fellow housemate. 

Sirius Black, one of the top students of the class, great marks and James Potter’s best mate approached the place where she was standing and smiled at Lily. “Evans, this is going to be interesting.” he smiled, his hands in his pocket as he waited for her to say something. 

They didn’t use to get along, Sirius and her. Mostly because he loved to mess with Severus, as much as Severus liked to mess with him, and Lily as a good friend always sided with her oldest mate, instead of his housemate. That was until the mudblood incident, and ever since then Lily’s life had seemed to change 180º, her and Severus did not speak anymore, and Sirius…

She was not sure about Sirius.

Today they were practising just simple nonverbal protecting and disarming spells, to start the terms, something to warm them up for the things to come. Apparently in preparation for their NEWTs they would get nonverbal and wandless classes, and this was just a small step in that direction. 

“The motion of your wand needs to be more precise when words are not used, at first they would try to conjure the word in their heads, which was good practice, but in time;” Professor Elderberry said, “it will come as easy as walking, you won’t think about the word, but of the use of the spell. Making your magic work seamlessly with your thoughts.” As he finished the explanation he summoned one book from the other end of the classroom, demonstrating what he meant, and then put them to work. 

The class spread around the classroom to start practising. Lily did not dare to look at Sirius, not because she disliked him, but because she was afraid that he would see something in her that she was not sure was anything. It was probably nothing.

Well it was something if it bothered her so much, but it was probably not anything consequential. Or was it?

She had been so confused since last year that just thinking about sharing the class with Black would end her. She had enough on her plate with the broken relationship with Snape, Petunia’s ever growing disdain and now… well… it did not matter.

Sirius stood in front of Lily, wand in hand and looking at the shorter woman a bit amused. Lily was a brilliant witch and hilarious when she was not in a crusade to try and justify Snape’s decision and actions, but he did not remember the last time they were paired together. He was about to ask how they should go about it when a loud “I won’t spend the rest of the term working with him!” could be heard from where the Professor stood. 

“Mr Snape, as explained, there is no favouritism in this class. Groups are not to be changed for the remaining term. What was not clear.” The Professor said calmly.

Snape looked at the Professor and at James Potter, who stood next to them waiting for the scene to play out. 

“Professor, it was clear, but you can not expect me to work with Potter, that is not possible.” Snape said quieter, just so the professor could hear.

“May I know why you think that?” The Professor asked, once again, calmly. He could be persuaded but it seemed that Severus Snape did not have a proper reason to give.

If it were any other Professor they would know why Snape and Potter could not work together, but the new DADA Professor was just clueless. Explaining how Snape and James did not like each other and kept hexing each other whenever they got the chance would make Snape confess to things he did not want faculty knowing, as he played innocent in those occasions, 

“Are you not up to the challenge?” James’ voice was almost teasing, but he was not dumb enough to get detention. He had no issue working with Snape, he disliked him, but he was not going to cause a scene just because he got to learn how to hext and disarm him without even saying a word. 

James was also clear that even with the small tantrum, Snape was not dim and he would probably also master the spells quick enough for there to be any serious trouble. The main issue was, how long would they last before they would be at each other’s throats? How many points would they get deducted that the 100 points from the assignment would seem like child’s play in comparison? 

Neither of them were sure, but at the moment James seemed to have the proverbial upper hand facing the Professor and Snape was not liking it. 

“Shut up, Potter. Let’s finish this.” Snape reluctantly went to another corner of the classroom for them to do the exercises. 

At the other end of the room Lily Evans was watching them, she had been so focused on not getting Severus that when she got Sirius she forgot that someone would get her former best mate. If she would have had to guess who would be paired with Severus, never in a million years she would have imagined James. Both boys were catalysts for each other’s worst qualities. 

“Worried about your mate, Red?” Sirius said behind her, looking in the same direction where Snape and Potter were standing in front of each other, the tension palpable as a bomb about to explode. 

“I’m sure James will be okay.” Lily said dismissively, because Snape certainly was not her friend anymore. 

A smirk formed on Sirius’ lips, now focusing his attention on Lily rather than his mate and the git. “So, it is James now?” a teasing tone could be heard in Sirius’ voice and Lily had to mentally hit herself. She had been so close to not show any kind of change or favouritism towards James until she managed to find exactly how she felt, but her mouth had to slip at that very moment. 

“Well, I don’t call my mates by their last name, Black.” she replied, trying to be nonchalant, yet a small blush crept to her cheeks betraying her.

Sirius put a hand on his heart, fainting hurt, “You don’t consider us friends, Red, that’s hurtful considering I rather like you.” and he was sincere, Lily could be a lot of things, but she was a nice bird with a decent sense of humour and a nice head above her shoulders. He was annoyed at Prongs’ crush on her, but Sirius could not put that blame onto the redhead. 

“Let’s just try to get through this class and maybe my fondness for you will grow.” she joked, making Sirius chuckle and nodding, letting slide just this once that he saw more than a friendship growing between Lily and James. 

Sirius took out his wand but did not raise it against Lily at first, he seemed a bit bored of the class already and Lily found it nice that they were not just doing lectures but actual practice. Yet, the older Black seemed to be done with the class already and that peeved Lily. “Do I bore you so much already? You haven’t even given me a chance to do anything.”

Sirius arched his brows in disbelief, “Red, I have nothing but respect for you, but I’m afraid the lesson is not quite as thrilling.” he admitted, making sure that his face showed more than just boredom. He was so used to being around people that knew that Blacks had just the same resting face that he forgot other people might not be. 

Lily looked at her fellow Gryffindor, not sure what to think. Sirius did seem to be making an effort, and she knew that for all his flaws he was rather honest, sometimes brutally honest. “You think the practice lesson is boring? Nonverbal seems like a challenge.”

It was true that for most young wizards nonverbal spells were a challenge, Sirius was not the exception, even with his brilliant mind it took him a while to master them. But he and his friends were trying to become animagi, and that was something that used nonverbal and wandless spells, plus potions and a lot of preparation.

Lily Evans did not know that.

“They are,” he admitted, “but does not mean we all learn it at the same pace.” he admitted as much, as he could not admit trying to become an animagi.

“You already know how to do nonverbal magic?” Lily said impressed, even when she tried to get ahead on her studies to not be the only clueless muggleborn in the school, yet no matter how far she went it seemed that she was always behind.

Sirius just nodded for a reply, he did not want to reveal much, not every pureblood decided to practise ahead, even if you had the advantage of doing magic at home while others might not. He tried changing tactics, because otherwise it sounded like bragging, “Your mate James can also use it.” he teased a bit, hoping they could move forward from the reason why he knew certain things.

“He does?” Lily asked, turning to look in James’ direction. Like an invisible force would not allow her mind to think in anything else other than James for more than 5 minutes. 

At the other end of the class Severus and James were moving, almost mirroring each other. Severus was trying to disarm James, while James defended himself and also tried to disarm Severus. It was like a  mesmerising dance, where you could not help to get invested, as both wizards were skilled and their movements were fluid. You could not catch one spell when the other was already being casted. 

“Seems like Snape also knows a thing or two.” Sirius admitted. In reality Sirius didn’t think Snape was an idiot because of his ability to learn, it was on what he chose to learn and who he associated with, but that didn’t have anything to do with that particular class. 

Watching the two wizards fight made Lily feel something, and not, it was not whatever was feeling for James, but a kind of envy. Severus seemed always so knowledgeable and taught Lily many things, but she also realised that he was hiding much more than his hate for the people of her kind. She felt him patronising her for what felt like the millionth time, and he was not even talking to her!

“Sirius, we can’t let them win.” Lily was determined, he could not let Snape win, nor James, even if he was a bit better than before, his ego was big enough. “I want those 100 for us, not Gryffindor, us.”

Sirius laughed at Lily’s determination, not mockinly but amused that seeing two people duel ignited in her the need to win and be better, that was exactly the Lily he liked to see. “Let’s do this, Red, we’ll wipe the floor with them.” and with that they set up to work. 

Learning how to master the nonverbal spells took longer than she wanted. Sirius was a great partner, he was supportive but he did not take it easy, he was driven and he did not let her slack in any sense, yet he understood that she was starting in a path he already mastered. 

By the end of the class Lily was almost able to wiggle Sirius’ wand without saying the word, but the spell was not as strong as it should be. Sirius could have let her take his wand easier, but that would not do her any good, she needed to actually master the technique. 

“That was progress, Red, I could feel you almost pulling it that last time. Some people could not even get to do it on their first attempt.” Sirius praised her as they gathered their things.

“Not good enough, I want to be able to do it by next class.” Lily had decided that she did not want to feel left behind, that Severus had some sort of advantage over her, she hated to feel like that, she justified it all her life due to him having a witch for a mother, but not anymore. “Do you mind meeting a couple of times before the next class to practise?” she hoped he wouldn't, but she knew that he might not like to do this, after all he was already bored with the lesson.

What didn’t Lily expect was Sirius liking that passion of her, determined to do better and to take no for an answer. Lily was far from dim, Sirius knew as much, but this new facet of her intrigued him as much as he liked it. 

“You’ve got it.” He smiled at her, “We can figure a schedule later, now if you don’t mind I’m famished and supper is calling my name.” he winked at her and left to join his friends. 

Their first Defence had been a Thursday, that meant that their next one would be a Tuesday, they had 4 days to get this sorted and Lily was going to take advantage of it. On Friday Sirius appeared in the empty classroom as promised, they talked for a bit and then started practising. Sirius kept encouraging her but it seemed that no matter what she did not manage to get the spell right. 

They tried again on Saturday, and it was not for Lily’s lack of enthusiasm and hard work, or Sirius’ will to help her and explain. The results were the same, she did not budge Sirius’ wand from his hand, and she was getting frustrated with the whole situation.

“You are thinking too hard about this, tensing up won’t make your wand respond like you wish to.” Sirius had offered as advice before they went their separate ways; she needed to relax but she could not do so, which frustrated her even more.

Lily tried not to think about it, she tried to go about her day as usual, and just focus on the spell once she met Sirius. She arrived at their usual empty classroom and sat on top of the teacher’s desk as she waited for her partner to arrive, and while she did so she thought about the class and how it seemed that she was the only one that could not master the technique. 

Sirius was usually very punctual, but Lily noticed that it was 10 minutes past their meeting hour and she got worried. Did he grow tired of teaching her? Wouldn’t he tell her that they were done and they would not continue the tutoring? She thought Sirius’ would, but they were not exactly closed. 

Lily was about to give up on waiting and just go back to her dorm, maybe ask one of her dorm mates to help, when the door cracked open.

The person at the other side of the door was not Sirius Black, he was almost as tall as Sirius, and had jet black hair, but it looked like swept by the wind. His eyes were not grey, but hazle, and there was a small blush around his cheeks as he entered the room. “Evans?” he called before opening the door completely, his expression apologetic, “I’m so glad you are still here, Sirius told me he promised to help you out, but he also promised Remus.” James excused his friend, “Remus is abysmal at potions and Sirius is the best we’ve got.” he admitted, “Sirius sent me to help you, said you needed help with Defence?”

Sirius was a dead man walking. Lily had decided there and then, because he somehow knew and still sent James Potter to help her, when she was trying to defeat his big head and Severus. No matter how much wandless magic the Black heir knew, Lily would kill him.

“Evans?” James’ voice was soft, hoping that he did not come out as a git, he already had done so in previous years and after talking to his mum he thought he could do better. 

“Uhm, yeah?” she replied, looking at him, not knowing he needed an answer to anything.

“I’ve asked if you don’t mind me helping you instead.” James' eyes seemed almost pleading, she remembered him asking her out, but last time it felt like a dare, this time his plea seemed different.

Lily shook her head and moved down from the desk, “Not at all, but you are teaching me to beat you.” she warned him as she stepped to the place of the classroom without furniture.

“Is that so?” James asked amused, taking his cloak off, preparing himself for a session of spell practice.

“Yes, I’m taking those 100 points.” Lily smiled, daring him to question her drive and her capacity to do so, positioning herself a few feet from him, wand in hand.

James chuckled and shrugged. “I won’t give up that easily.” he replied, not belittling her but actually taking her seriously. She was not sure when was the last time she had a study partner that took her as seriously as Sirius and James had done so. Maybe Mary and Remus, but she usually studied with Severus, trying to spend time outside of the classrooms. “Come on, Evans, show me what you’ve got.” he dared her, and she complied.

Lily had tried with all her might to disarm James, as she had done with Sirius. She was willing the spell out of her, thinking it loud enough, but the wand in James’ hand did not move from there. 

Once more, she moved her wand in a spiral, as the spell required. It was a clear motion, maybe a small one, but you could see her trying to cast that spell with all her might. And once more James’ wand did not move.

James moved from his defence stance to a normal one, and looked at Lily. They had been going at it for a while and there was no progress, which made Lily almost want to cry of frustration, but she couldn’t, not in front of Potter, maybe when she went back to her bed. 

“You are giving up on me, aren’t you?” she said softly, putting her wand away.

“What?! No!” James shook his head and approached her, trying to comfort her in some way, but James Potter was clueless in comforting girls, much less Lily Evans. “I was not, I promise.” he said sincerely hoping she would see that it was true, that his words were not empty. “I was just wondering what is going through your head when you try to do the spell.” James explained looking at her, waiting for an answer.

Lily looked at him, and furrowed her brow trying to think. Her hands moved again, her wand making a smaller spiral motion as she closed her eyes for a second trying to focus on what she usually did when trying to disarm James, and not in his cologne, or how close to her he seemed to be. After a few moments she opened her green eyes and looked at his. “Just the spell, nothing much, I also think of the word, as the Professor explained.”

James nodded understandingly, and moved backwards again. “I think that’s the problem, you are thinking of a word, but not what the spell does. Remember when Flitwick was teaching us the levitating spell?” he asked, excited that he thought he figured out what was wrong with Lily’s technique.

It took the smaller witch a moment to get it but then it hit her, “Imagine where you want the feather to go,” she replied, getting to what James was saying.

“Exactly!” he beamed at her, “So we need you to remember how the spell feels. I want you to try to disarm me, like normal, forget about this being nonverbal, do it a few times, until the word loses meaning, but pay attention to everything else. How does the spell feel, how your wand pulls, how the magic flows.” he explained, going back to his defensive position, waiting for her to take the lead. 

Lily nodded at his instructions, they seemed mad, but at this point she was willing to try anything as long as she was able to learn this. 

“Expelliarmus!”

Her body moved as usual, she remembered how she used to feel the wand pull, because the word helped her to make it come to her. But when they took the word away all she could think was of the aid of said word and not what it was supposed to do. She repeated the spell a few more times, sweat going down her forehead as the wand in James’ hand moved but it was not enough to move it, but the smile on James’ face grew with each attempt, Lily might have not made it yet, but she was getting close with each cast.

Eventually James’ wand flew from his hand, and a victorious Lily smiled at him. It felt like a simple spell but it had taken so much effort she was not sure what had changed. 

“Now give it back, and remember that feeling.” James instructed and she followed his instructions, as it seemed it was doing something more than whatever her and Sirius were doing previously. 

They were back at their places, Lily preparing to attack, James preparing to defend. And Lily moved her wand again, this time not repeating the spell in her head, but pushing towards what she wanted, James’ wand, which was moving more than the previous attempts. 

It took him a couple more times, Lily was beginning to lose faith once more, but then, when she least expected it, James’ wand was flying towards her, and all she could do was catch it and laugh.

“Yes! I did it!” she celebrated, moving closer to James, giving him his wand, “Thank you!” she said excitedly and bounced in her place before turning and giving James a hug. Getting the spell had felt so amazing, like a barrier had been lifted and now she could do more than she ever imagined, but it took her mind a bit to catch up on what her body was doing. 

She was hugging James Potter. 

James, who had been a git up until now, who was always bragging on how amazing he was and it was to be a Gryffindor, who had also helped Mary when Mulciber had attacked her. Who stopped hexing younger students for the fun of it, and started fighting the injustices he saw. And who made her feel confused, exasperated and elated, all at the same time.

She could feel James’ arms around her, and asked herself when they had become so toned, because he was a lanky 14 year old boy not so long ago. She wondered when he had gotten so tall, and when did his jaw became so pronounced that she could see him clench it a bit before speaking? 

He was trying to be so careful of not breaking whatever was happening that it took Lily a second to understand that he was speaking again. “I knew you could do it, Evans.” he smiled at her once more, and she unwrapped her arms from his neck, feeling awkward to have hugged him so suddenly. 

“Thank you, you were the one that broke the code.” she admitted, smiling back at him, trying not to blush.

“You did all the work, it took you less time than me to get it working.” he conceded, “So technically, you’ve won.” He was joking, she knew that much, but he was not mocking her and her effort, just her competitive vein, a tad bit. 

“I have.” she replied proudly, but not because of managing a spell (even when it felt amazing) but she had finally understood what she was feeling for James Potter, and that was a win on its own.

[dangermousie]

Ok, so far here are the cdramas rumored for the fall that I have any interest in, from most to least:

Kill Me Love Me (November) - you’ve seen those positively unhinged trailers, and both Wu Jinyan and Liu Xueyi look to be on fire (plus on a purely shallow front, few other actors do it for me the way they do.)

Snowy Night Timeless Love (October) - the rumor for this airing came out of nowhere so who knows but a tragic wuxia romance and my faves Li Qin and Zeng Shunxi and the trailer is stunning. Plus it’s based on a novel by the author of Listening Snow Tower and I loved that one.

The Story of Pearl Girl (October) - this barely misses to the previous two in terms of anticipation and only does so because the narrative of “underdog FL rises to prominence through commence” has been done a lot lately and often done in a way that doesn’t truly satisfy me. But the trailer is great, I adore Zhao Lusi, and the fact that this reunites her with Liu Yuning (and this time he looks even hotter!) is AAAAA!

Reborn (October) - a modern! It’s not the end of the world, I promise. The trailer looked intense and angsty not like the usual fluffy moderns I can’t stand and I am a big fan of Zhang Jingyi now.

Guardians of the Dafeng (November) - this one is high risk but potentially high reward. Best case scenario? They pull off another Joy of Life - funny and ahistorical but also dark and smart and moving. I think the chances of that are slim - Wang Hedi, though I will always have a soft spot for him because of CLJ, is no Zhang Ruoyun, plus JoL is a miracle that was almost impossible to replicate unless you get the same brilliant combo of perfect writing, directing and acting. But what if….

The Rise of Ning (October) - if this was rumored before I finished LYF2 or Are You the One dropped, I’d be way more excited. By the end AYTO finished, I was getting irritated just seeing Zhang Wanyi’s face anywhere. (Yes there is such a thing as too much exposure esp when that exposure is in stuff that raises my blood pressure.) Srill I did like the trailer back before all this mess and this has the advantage of FL being played by Ren Min who I adore and not WCR who I cannot stand. And ZWY is a decent actor in the abstract if I can manage not to think about his past roles and his overexposure. So here is hoping.

Brocade Odyssey (??? Fall) - I had little interest in this (I genuinely have no interest in dramas centering on cloth industries esp when they must be bland enough to be allowed to air on TV) and that was before that utterly snooze worthy MV they dropped and one of the secondaries getting into a pimp/tax scandal which apparently resulted in them cutting him as much as they could which means the story will be even more of a mess than it was likely to be otherwise. I might check this out out of trainwreck syndrome but I expect nothing.

Echo of Her Voice (Sept 22) - if there was ever a drama trailer designed to make me hurl, this was it. Add in the fact that the ML actor seems to have a knack for being in dramas that never work for me and the fact that it’s set in (haha really) “school” - no thank you!

[feasibilities]

Afternoon Tea | Jim x Married!Reader

Synopsis: Jim visits his best friend's wife while she's home alone.

Warnings: Soft Fem!Dom, Jealousy, Cheating, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Past Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Guilt

Author's Note: I started classes late last month and had some health issues but I'm doing better. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Jim’s jealousy towards Chris made no sense. He had a beautiful wife and managed 2 children with her with little issue. Why should he be jealous of a marriage to a younger woman that happened because of a midlife crisis? 

“Hey, Jim. Come in.” You beamed. He loved seeing you smile. 

“Hey.” Jim said softly, taking you in. 

“I just came from yoga class, so excuse my attire. Would you like some tea?” You apologized, walking to the kitchen. 

“Sure, no problem.” He replied, distracted by how your leggings hugged your legs and ass. He took a seat at the table to gather himself. Pouring him a mug, you gave him a dish of sugar and lemon. 

“Thank you.” He said warmly. Curious glances were exchanged between you two before he broke the silence. 

“How have things been with Chris?” He inquired.

“Good, I suppose.” You trailed off. Noticing your apprehension, he decided to pry. 

“You sure?” Jim asked.

“Well, Chris wants to have kids but I would like to wait until I finish graduate school. I get that he’s older but this is really important to me.” You revealed, fiddling with your wedding ring. Jim was humored by your youthful vocabulary.

“Having kids is a big responsibility. Danielle and I met at university but waited until we graduated. I know he can be difficult to deal with at times but someone like you can convince him.” He said, sipping out of the mug. 

“You’re so much easier to talk to.” You said, sitting in the chair adjacent to him. Your gaze lingered on him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you studied his features. Truthfully, he was much more intriguing than Chris. You hated Danielle for getting to him first. 

“How do you keep things exciting? Chris can be good time but you seem way more fun.” You said, scooting closer to him. 

“Oh, I’m no fun at all.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I think you are.” You spoke softly, touching his arm. He tensed at the contact and sat his mug down. Jim was interested in whatever your plans were but worried about the consequences of fucking his friend’s wife. 

“Uh, I think I should go. It was nice speaking with you. Thanks for the tea.” He said politely, standing up. You grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Before he could protest, you shoved him on the couch and began undressing. Jim’s face turned bright red when your bra fell to the floor. This was much better than the time he spied on you taking a shower during a family vacation. His lecherous reminiscence was interrupted by you standing over him. 

“Do you want me, Jim?” You cooed, holding his chin. 

“Yes, I always have.” He answered embarrassingly quick. You climbed onto his lap and kissed him harshly. His large hands moved to your ass and massaged the soft flesh. You nipped at his bottom lip. Jim suddenly flipped you on your back and perched between your legs. He stared at you at like a dog waiting for direction. You quickly realized you could get him to do anything you wanted. 

“Go ahead.” You said. Jim’s tongue swirled around your clit as you yanked at his peppered locks. He took in the redolent scent of your trimmed pubic hair. His hands moved up to your breasts and hovered over them. Noticing his hesitancy, you pressed your hands over his and moaned sweetly. His tongue slipped into your damp heat. His pale blue eyes flickered open and his thumbs teased your nipples. You rocked against his face as you chased your high. After cleaning you off, he sat up to catch his breath. 

“Good boy.” You praised, smearing the moisture on his lips. You pulled him down and straddled him. You hurriedly unbuckled his pants and slid them halfway down his legs. 

“Wait-“ Jim started, wanting to use protection.

“There’s no time.” You whispered, sinking onto his length. A low groan escaped him as you slipped your fingers into his mouth. There was a marked desperation in his eyes. You relished in your newfound power. 

“Suck.” You ordered. You felt him suckle on your fingers gently. Rutting against him, you saw that Jim was already close. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands found the soft flesh of your hips. A tender kiss on his forehead made him fall apart. Hot spurts of his seed spilled into you. You embraced him as he came down from his high. Reality seemed to sink in for him as soon as it was over. He was overwhelmed with guilt and dread at the thought of his friend’s wife carrying his child. 

“I’ll take a Plan B. No worries.” You smiled innocently. 

“I-I have to get back for dinner.” He said nervously. 

“Stay.” You cooed. Despite his obligation, he couldn’t pull away from you more than a second. 

[cupiidzbow]

we’re autism4autism have i ever mentioned that

[icarian-avis]

Roy character sheet, as promised

[godsfavoritescientist]

Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.

I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.

Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?

How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"

And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.

So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.

So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.

And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.

-

And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.

Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.

And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.

So you sail away in a boat together.

And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.

But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.

But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.

You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.

And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-

-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.

You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.

-

And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.

It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.

And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.

[whentherewerebicycles]

this sucks lol

[ickypuppi3]

it’s so funny to me that billy was in school because we never actually see him in school (basketball aside) like imagine him going to his locker and sitting in class and stuff