#‘The Epic of Half-Lives play

[kyreniacommentator]

‘The Epic of Half-Lives’ will be staged in November

‘The Epic of Half-Lives’ will be staged in November Girne Theatre SU, which continues its activities at Girne Municipality Chamber Theatre, will meet the audience in November with the play ‘Half Canlar Saga’. The play, which will be staged at the Girne Municipality Chamber Theatre on 1, 8, 15 and 29 November at 20:00, will meet with the audience in the +16 age category. Continue reading ‘The Epic…

[lorillee]

WE GOT ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[mahowaga]

the nurse doesn't even get a full sentence out before you hear it—the loud, unmistakable, drawn out moan from behind the curtain.

"uuuuuuughghhghhhhhh."

you blink.

"that yours?" she asks, arching an eyebrow, holding back a smile.

you sigh. "unfortunately, yes."

she laughs softly and pulls the curtain back.

and there he is.

gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, your very dramatic boyfriend, currently conked out in the reclining recovery chair like a ragdoll someone left in the sun for too long. his blindfold is gone (carefully folded on the side table, somehow), his mouth is half open, one of his arms is hanging off the chair like he's mid-shakespearean death scene and one leg is swinging mindlessly like he's in the middle of an interpretive dance.

"ughhhhhhhhhh," he groans again, eyes fluttering, unfocused. "where am i. is this the void? the infinite void? am i in the purgatory between dimensions?"

"you had a wisdom tooth removed," you say, walking up to him with your arms crossed.

satoru's head rolls toward the sound of your voice. it takes him a solid five seconds to gain his bearings and settle his gaze on you.

and then—his whole body jerks.

"oh my god," he gasps, pointing a floppy, trembling finger at you. "you're the taco bell goddess."

you blink again, taken aback. the anesthesia is really doing a number on him. it's entertaining. "i'm sorry, what now?"

"i knew you were real," he whispers reverently, nodding to himself. "you came to me in a dream once. you had like, this glowing chalupa aura and you whispered 'live mas' into my soul."

you stare. "what—what the hell are you talking about?"

"don't play coy, my divine temptress of the drive-thru," he says, hand clutching his chest like he's about to write an epic soliloquy in your name. "you bring hot sauce and justice to this cruel, flavorless world."

"okay," you say slowly, looking around for the nurse, "how much anesthesia did they give you?"

"enough to see the truth," he says dramatically.

you laugh so hard you have to grab the side of his chair for support.

satoru squints at you. "wait—wait, no. are you—are you even the taco bell goddess? or are you some kind of fraud, preying on innocent taco followers?"

"i'm your girlfriend," you reply, still wheezing. "you live with me."

his sky blue eyes go comically wide. "you mean i bagged the taco bell goddess and i live with her?"

you pinch the bridge of your nose to calm yourself. "you need water and maybe an exorcism."

he doesn't hear you. of course he doesn't. he's busy throwing up both hands like he's just won an oscar.

"somebody better put me in a commercial," he says proudly. "'cause i'm livin' mas, baby."

you're practically crying with laughter now, and you don't seem to be stopping soon.

"you're a disaster," you choke out.

he grabs your hand and holds it reverently. "disaster, or super cool legend?"

you lean in and kiss his forehead, lips twitching. "definitely a disaster."

satoru beams. "you kissed me! i'm telling everyone. you kissed me first. that's legally binding."

"we've been dating for two years."

"two years?!" his jaw drops. "that's like—" he counts on his fingers "—more than ten kisses!"

you have to bite your lip before you start cracking up again. then, his eyes impossibly wide, he pats around on his lap like he's looking for something. "where's my phone. i gotta tweet this."

"you're not tweeting while high."

"but the world needs to know i'm in love with a celestial being."

"absolutely not."

"okay, but hear me out," he says, slumping deeper into the chair with a dopey grin. "what if we got married. right now. here. in the dentist's office. we've got witnesses. we've got—" he frowns at the table next to him "—fluoride."

you're really trying your best to not lose it. "you want to get married surrounded by cotton swabs and expired magazines?"

he reaches for your face with both hands like he's about to cradle something precious. except one hand flops uselessly against your cheek.

"you're all i need," he slurs.

you smile, warmth creeping up your neck. "oh my god."

"wait, wait. do i have a ring?" he pats his pockets in slow motion. "we can use a paperclip. i'll macgyver it."

"i'm confiscating your paperclips."

he groans. "you never let me have any fun."

you take his hand, kiss the knuckles. "oh, toru. you're a full-time menace, so i have to be the responsible one."

his eyes flutter, a soft, sleepy smile on his lips now. "but you love me."

you sigh, brushing his hair back gently. "i do. against my better judgement."

he grins. "ha. got 'em."

you let your forehead rest against his.

the strongest sorcerer alive. in love. loopy. wearing a bib that says 'tooth be told' with a cartoon molar giving a thumbs-up.

and somehow, impossibly, still the love of your life.

you whisper, "when you're coherent again, i'm going to tell you everything you said. never letting you live this down."

his eyes crack open. "noooo."

"yes."

"i'll sue."

"i dare you."

and he giggles. giggles. like a chaotic little gremlin in your arms.

you hold him close, his fingers twined in yours, as the strongest sorcerer in the world melts into a puddle of affectionate nonsense on anesthetic. and you think, grinning—

god, i love this ridiculous man.

[eglerieth]

Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:

• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind

• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF

• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger

• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves

• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite

• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET

• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”

• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION

• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom

• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating

• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators

• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.

• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels

• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon

• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king

• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing

• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung

• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics

• spent 60 years writing said autobiography

• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read

• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too

• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression

• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors

• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone

• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will

• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves

• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be

• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor

• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor

Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.

[yasministration]

Me and you - Harry Potter

This came to me fresh out of the shower and it was so cute in my head I couldn't not write it. Summary: You keep on telling Ron to just 'ask her out' so he challenges you to ask your crush since it's oh so easy. Somehow, you both end up with dates. 0.8k+ wc

"It's not that hard Ron, just ask her out!" You complained, sighing in annoyance. Your legs were swung over the side of an armchair in the living room of Sirius's parents' old house, holding your book in one hand, you index finger dipping into the middle of it so that you didn't lose the page you were on. You'd been reading, or rather, trying to read for the past hour, and for half of that time, Ron Weasley, one your best friends, sat right in front of you on the carpet, making shapes on it with his finger while whining about his silly crush on your other best friend.

"You'll never know if you don't ask her!" You added, opening your book once more, hoping he'd get the hint. Sirius and Remus sat on the couch amusedly, matching grins on their faces at your constant bickering. You reminded them of a young Sirius and Lily, with Lily trying to frustratedly get back to her book, telling Sirius to finally ask Remus out from pure annoyance. "Right well if it's so easy to just ask your best friend out, who you've had a crush on for years, why haven't you done it?" Your eyes widened at the comment, eyes pausing on the words on your page and you slowly looked up from the book at Ron's retort, mouth open in shock with your eyebrows raised as if to call him out for his audacity.

"Go ahead, if you're so brave. Ask him out and then I'll take your words seriously." You were painfully aware of the pairs of eyes glued to you as you clamped your mouth shut, eyes quickly glancing towards Remus and Sirius to confirm your suspicions. Their jaws were slack, their silence speaking volumes. You scoffed, putting your book aside and rolling your shoulders back. If there was one thing that would gain your old Professor and his epic boyfriend's approval, it would be this. You shot one last glare at Ron before clearing your throat, watching as his eyes widened in realisation.

"Hey Harry!" You called out cheerfully to the other side of the room where Harry was playing - and losing - a game of chess against George. Hermione and Fred watched their game, adding comments where necessary, but at the sound of your voice, all four of their heads snapped towards you. You had to will yourself not to look at any of their faces other than the boy you were talking to, instead continuing "What do you say we go to Hogsmeade together the weekend we get back at Hogwarts." You swallowed nervously, adding "Me and you." for good measure.

Your eyes trained on Harry, who nodded, smiling shyly as a blush painted his cheeks rosy. "Yeah, yeah of course." He looked back at the board before turning to you once more. "Wait as friends or-" You shook your head, abruptly cutting him off "No. Not-not as friends" You adjusted yourself on the armchair, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as Harry's face darkened even more, and he nodded again, stating "Yeah, I'd like that. Okay." You inhaled deeply, nodding your head with him as you felt your face heat up. "Okay." You grinned timidly, sinking into the chair before looking at your best friend, feeling giddy.

Without taking any time to recover, you raise your eyebrows at Ron, nodding your head in Hermione's direction. Cursing, Ron stood up from the floor, mumbling under his breath before mimicking your movements and calling out "Hermione?" When the girl looked up, her locks falling perfectly around her face with an expectant look on her face, he asked "Do you want to go out? With me?" He gulped loudly, observing as the girl's cheeks flushed darkly, a grin engulfing her features. "Sure, Ron." She replied, giggling at the end of her sentence. "Oh thank god!" He exclaimed, turning away from her immediately to collapse on the empty space on the couch behind him, clamping a hand over his heart.

A loud silence overtook the big room, with the exception of a "It's your turn, Harry." From George. You and Ron stared at each other, wide-eyed, before you finally said arrogantly. "I did it better." The reply from him came instantly "No the fuck you didn't. Me and You?" He mocked, his voice going exaggeratedly high pitched. "Uh, with me?" You imitated gruffly, ducking to avoid the pillow Ron threw at you. "Hey! You started it!" You shrieked, picking your book back up, promptly hiding your face in it to cover your flushing cheeks and excited smile.

"Holy shit." Sirius commented. "Look at them go." Remus hummed from beside him, ignorant to the fact you could hear them perfectly. "It only took you and James months of convincing each other to ask us out. Took them two minutes." On the other side of the room, Harry and Hermione shot each other excited looks, grinning at the loud conversation you had with Ron. "I think she did it better." Harry whispered, hitting his shoe against Hermione's. "Oh yeah, she definitely did."

[cevansbrat0007]

Regrets Only.

Summary: Ari reaches his limit with your latest TikTok prank...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, TikTok Pranks, Shenanigans, Angry!Ari, Brat!Reade, Small Chase Kink, Light Manhandling. Biting, Spanking, Bondage, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @jamneuromain. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

In all the times you’ve tried, you’ve never once regretted pranking your man with something you’d seen on TikTok – until today. Yes. Believe it or not, this time you might’ve gone a bit too far. 

Which is why you’re currently holed up in Ari’s fairly spacious closet, sipping on a bottle of water and munching on a granola bar while you wait for the bounty hunter to calm down. You lean back with a sigh, only to wince when you feel a shoe digging into your side. 

You make quick work of tossing it to the other side of the room before returning to the treat in your hand. But just as you go to take another bite, you hear something that makes your stomach sink - even as your pulse spikes. 

And it lets you know that you are well and truly fucked.

Earlier That Day (Roughly Twenty-Seven Minutes Ago)

After a solid ten minutes of vigorous stretching, you bend down to check the laces on your tennis shoes. Once they’re secure, you quietly make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the items you needed for your latest prank. The one you planned to play on your favorite unsuspecting bounty hunter, who was blissfully snoring away on a couch in the living room. 

Now, this particular one just so happened to be a little…bolder than either of your previous stunts. It required more courage, coupled with a dash of bravery, and a well thought out Plan B in the event things went south. 

You open the refrigerator and pull out the pack of hot dogs you’d bought during your last trip from the grocery store. While you’d originally told Ari that you wanted him to put them on the grill, he had no way of knowing that they would also be used to torture him. Common sense told you that you’d be better off keeping that tiny piece of information to yourself. 

Stifling a mischievous giggle, you extract one singular frankfurter from the package before resealing it and putting it away. Next, you move to your utility drawer to gleefully swipe a pair of scissors. 

This was the entire plan. You were going to quietly tuck a hot dog in your man’s zipper, and then wake him up so he could watch you snip it in half with a pair of scissors. In all the videos you watched – and you’d watched a number of them – every bleary eyed victim panicked as if you’d just cut off their actual dick. 

And therein lay the prank. 

The clips had left you in stitches for hours. So much so that Ari had noticed how much fun you were having, only to roll his eyes when you revealed that you were scrolling through his least favorite app on your phone.

Fucking TikTok.

He hated it. You loved it. Frankly, the only reason he even tolerated you telling him about the things you’d seen is because he could tell it brought you joy. 

Excitement buzzes through you as you tiptoe into the living room. You’re grateful to see that Ari is still sleeping, snoring soundly with one impressively muscled arm tucked behind his head. 

With gentle hands, you dutifully undo the zipper of his Levi’s before carefully inserting the hot dog. Since you don’t want to mess this up, you make sure to go slow, taking your time. You just knew this prank was going to be epic. 

Once that’s done, you briefly take a second to wipe your hands on your leggings before taking a deep breath. Well, it was now or never. Go big or go home, as they say. 

Leaning down, you grab Ari by the shoulder, attempting to jostle him awake. It takes a couple tries, but he does eventually open his eyes.

“Whaa–?” A grin breaks out across his handsome features as he emerges from his sleepy haze. “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya, Beast.” You offer him what you hope looks like your most unhinged smile and the reveal the pair of scissors that, up until now, you’d kept hidden behind your back. “How’s about I take a little off the top?” You sing, brandishing the shears. 

“The hell?” His confused blue eyes go wide as they follow the path of the scissors. Shock overcomes him as he watches, in what feels like slow motion, as you cut off a sizable portion of the frank. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” He roars, grabbing himself as he scrambles off the couch and onto the floor before proceeding to do the funniest, most awkward backwards crab walk you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You double over with laughter as Ari struggles to come to grips with the fact that you definitely did not just make him the next John Bobbitt your Lorena. He’s breathing hard as he rips the hot dog out of his zipper, holding it up to the light. 

“Oh my God, that was amazing!” You wheeze.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” He tosses the damned thing across the room before covering his face with his hands as he wills himself to calm down. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you decide to put the bounty hunter out of his misery by whispering his least favorite phrase: “It was a prank!” A renewed wave of laughter hits you when you recall just how gobsmacked he’d been by the whole ordeal. God, your sides hurt something fierce. 

“Just what in the ever loving fuck would make you think that was funny?” Ari growls low in his throat as he finally sits up. And the look he’s giving you now…

It’s hot enough to burn right through you. And not in a sexy way.

“That’s just the magic of TikTok, I guess.” Your smile wanes as you watch your severely irritated boyfriend slowly climb to his feet. “I mean, you should’ve seen your face when–”

“When what?” Comes his quiet rumble, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. “When I thought you cut my dick off just now? Is that–is that what you’re laughing about?” The smile he offers you looks a little less than friendly.

“Um yeah. I’d say so.”

Instinct, as well as the need for self-preservation, has you taking a cautious step backwards. You were prepared to run if you had to. It was the whole reason why you’d stretched in the first place.

“Oh yeah?” Ari scrubs a palm over his ticking jaw. “Is that so?”

Instead of responding you decide to simply nod. Oh, and take another step backwards, of course.

“I’m sure that if you’d maybe stop and think about it –”

“Why don’t you c’mere so I can show you just how much I appreciate your so-called sense of humor?” He motions you forward, opening up his waiting arms. 

But you know better. 

“I, uh…” You hedge, bracing your hands in front of you. “Can see you might need some more time to appreciate the joke. So I’m just gonna…um…” You blow out a breath. “Give you some space so you can – eeeep!”

An incensed Ari picks that moment to strike - lunging at you with a speed that belies his size. Thank goodness you’re prepared. Ducking under his arms, you spin around and make a mad dash for the stairs. Squealing, you take them two at a time, hoping to make it to your sanctuary before he can get his hands on you. 

“Get your ass back here, Bird!” 

No way, pal!

Heart pumping, you grab the doorframe and all but slingshot yourself into Ari’s bedroom, slamming the door behind you. While it would only buy you a couple of seconds, that was really all you needed. 

You dive headlong into a nearby closet before swiftly closing the door and hitting the lock. As your chest heaves, you decide to take a seat on the floor before reaching for the bottle of water you’d previously planted in your hiding spot.

After guzzling almost half, you replace the cap. You knew you ought to conserve your rations. Just in case you were stuck here for a while. 

“I’m not on your shit today, baby. Okay? Today your man’s got time!” Ari bellows seconds later. “So, if I were you, I’d come on out now!”

Shaking your head, you vow to stay silent. So you say nothing, even when he tries the knob on the door that separates him from you. 

“Open up, sweetheart!”

Again you say nothing, in favor of unwrapping one of your favorite granola bars. They were the chewy kind, the ones that tasted more like dessert than they did something healthy.  

“I’ll come out when you calm down!” You finally yell back after you chew and swallow. “Fucking Beast.” You grumble under your breath.

“Oh, I’m more than calm.” The weight of his sardonic chuckle is not lost on you. “Why don’t you come on out and see?” You can’t help but jump when one of his fists pounds on the door. “I swear…I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t believe you!” 

“You’re gonna open this door, darlin’.”

“No, I’m not!” You hiss, throwing one of his shoes at the wall for good measure.

“Yes, you are.” Ari hits back. “Now, you can either come out on your own, or…”

“Or else what?” 

“Or, I’ll come in there and get you. And trust me, little Bird…that’s the last thing you want.”

“Yeah?” You spit, meanwhile inwardly lamenting your man’s lack of a sense of humor for the umpteenth time. “Well…” You take another bite of your granola bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

Famous last words.

Ari whistles low, making you shiver. “Wait right there, baby. I’ll see you in a minute.”

You let out a sigh of relief once you get the sense that you’re finally alone. As funny as it all had seemed initially, you were quickly coming to regret this particular prank. The longer you sat in this closet, the more you began to honestly examine – and then reexamine – your life choices.

Perhaps it was time to give your newfound love of pranking your bounty hunter a break. Lips pursed in thought, you allow yourself another bite of your chewy bar. Only to frown when you hear a very familiar sound that fills you with instant regret.  

Apparently Ari had returned. And he’d brought his power drill. Fuck!

Your mouth goes dry as the sound grows louder. And then you’re forced to watch in horror as your man makes fast work of literally removing the closet door from its hinges. It was the last thing you ever expected your normally rather patient and understanding boyfriend to do. 

“There’s my girl.” Ari’s dangerous purr comes as he picks up the now useless slab or wood and sets it aside like it weighs almost nothing. “C’mon out of there so we can talk.” 

When you don’t move, your bounty hunter decides to come get you. He hauls you out by your wrist, making sure not to bruise you in the process.

“Beast, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? I mean – ooh!” You scoff, only to rise on your toes when his free hand comes down on your vulnerable ass. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Let me make something very clear here, darlin’.” He leads you over to the bed before sitting down and then pulling you over his knee. “You want to waste time messin’ around on that stupid app you love so much? Fine.” Ari slaps your rump again, forcing you to bury your face in the covers to keep from crying out. 

“But where I’m gonna draw the line right now is you testin’ ‘em out on me. Unless you’re in that kitchen whipping up a new recipe I am not to be your guinea pig. You get me?”

His heavy palm comes down hard again when you don’t respond. This time he takes a moment to massage your cotton covered backside. “Do. You. Get. Me.” Each word is peppered by a solid smack.

“Yes!” You wail, although it comes out slightly muffled. 

Still not satisfied, Ari goes to grip the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down to your ankles, complete with your simple, white cotton panties. “This could’ve been a relaxing Sunday for us, little Bird. Just mindin’ our own business.” You can’t help but shiver when you feel him fondle your upturned ass, molding and massaging your burning cheeks. “But you just had to go and be a brat, didn’t you?”

“I–I’m sorry!”

It was too little, too late. And you both knew it.

“Oh now, you’re sorry.” He mocks before raining down a fury of perfectly-timed smacks. “I love you, baby. I do. But I also know you. You’re not really sorry – at least not yet.” 

Ari eases out from beneath you, all the while demanding that you remain face down with your reddened ass pushed up in the air so that he can enjoy the view while he prepares the next part of your punishment. And you had best believe you feel his sharp teeth sink into the left globe of your ass before he goes.

Consider it a parting gift.

One Hour Later…

And that’s how you found yourself handcuffed to the bed, courtesy of the signature purple, butter leather cuffs he’d had made for you. Unfortunately for you, you’d learned that he’d recently purchased another set…

For your ankles.

Your bounty hunter smiles as he picks up one of your vibrators – the one you’d purchased together – before applying it to your already oversensitive clit. Bucking your hips, you try to escape the torture.

With no such luck.

You desperately tug at your restraints, even as your cries fall on deaf ears. No matter how many times you promised to never play another prank on him ever again, it still wasn’t enough. Instead he’d continued to keep you bound while he worked out his anger…

By ruthlessly overstimulating your poor, sweat slicked body. No matter how many times you came, no matter how many times you threatened to scream yourself hoarse, he kept demanding more.

Because, according to Ari, since you’d taken a few years off his life, you apparently owed him as many orgasms by way of apology as you were able to give. Which meant you were going to be sore as hell tomorrow. 

Which was why, in this moment, although you could feel another orgasm threatening to overtake you, you were filled with nothing but…

Regrets only.

END  

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[tswiftupdatess]

taylorswift: In summation We have officially wrapped the European leg of The Eras Tour. With it came the most passionate crowds I’ve ever played for, new traditions in the show, and an entirely new era added in. It was a more hectic pace than we’d done before, and I’m so proud of my crew/fellow performers for being able to physically perform that show and build our massive stage, take it apart, and make magic with so few days in between for recovery and travel. They’re the most impressive people I know and I’m so lucky they gave The Eras Tour their time, their energy, and their expertise. Walking onstage in London was a rollercoaster of emotions. Having our Vienna shows cancelled was devastating. The reason for the cancellations filled me with a new sense of fear, and a tremendous amount of guilt because so many people had planned on coming to those shows. But I was also so grateful to the authorities because thanks to them, we were grieving concerts and not lives. I was heartened by the love and unity I saw in the fans who banded together. I decided that all of my energy had to go toward helping to protect the nearly half a million people I had coming to see the shows in London. My team and I worked hand in hand with stadium staff and British authorities every day in pursuit of that goal, and I want to thank them for everything they did for us. Let me be very clear: I am not going to speak about something publicly if I think doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who come to my shows. In cases like this one, ‘silence’ is actually showing restraint, and waiting to express yourself at a time when it’s right to. My priority was finishing our European tour safely, and it is with great relief that I can say we did that. And then London felt like a beautiful dream sequence. All five crowds at Wembley Stadium were bursting with passion, joy, and exuberance. The energy in that stadium was like the most giant bear hug from 92,000 people each night, and it brought me back to a place of carefree calm up there.

We had some EPIC surprise performances from my long time friends teddysphotos, florenceandthemachine, and jackantonoff. Performing ‘Florida!!!’ with Flo for the first time was unforgettable and Ed took me right back to our old Red Tour memories. It was the most dizzying honor to become the first solo artist to play Wembley 8 times in one tour. To the fans who have seen us this summer, you’ll always have the most sparkling place in my memories. You were a dream to perform for, dance with, and share those magical moments with. We’ll see you all again when we resume The Eras Tour in October, but for now we get to take a much needed rest. Thank you for the adventure of a lifetime. May it continue… 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

(August 21, 2024)

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Epic Buddie Fic Recs | March 3rd-9th 2025

WE'RE BACK!! WE'RE SO BAAAACK!!!!!!

Complete

good dogs don't run away by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories, Future fic, Eddie Back From Texas | 1,1K | General):

"I, um, well..." Eddie shrugs, all nervous bashfulness that makes Buck want to put him in his pocket, maybe his ribcage, just to keep him close, safe. "I'd ask you to move in, but..." "Hate to break it to you, Eddie." His lips curl around the name differently now. Or maybe they don't. Maybe he's always said Eddie's name like it was his favourite word, a plea, a prayer. "But I've got another month of rent down on this place, so if anyone was asking anyone to move in, it'd be me." (OR: they're roommates, partners, best friends, what else is there?)

Ours by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories Coda | 1,3K | General):

“Home sweet home.” Buck mumbles, stumbling as he tries to kick his shoes off. Eddie doesn’t correct him, tell him that it’s not his yet, because that’d be a lie. This place has been Buck’s home for nearly as long as it’s been Eddie’s.

i find your name, etched behind the frame by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories Coda | 1,6K | General):

Buck had always felt like he belonged, in Eddie’s house. It was one of the things Eddie had noticed, right away, when they’d become friends – Buck had just felt like he belonged, right from the beginning, his spare sneakers next to Eddie’s own on the rack, Eddie’s wardrobe filled with Buck’s clothes, half the ingredients in the kitchen bought by Buck. He was such an integral part of their lives, and Eddie wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. He didn’t want it to end.

what do you really need, darling? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Eddie Coming Out, Getting Together | 2,3K | Explicit):

After Eddie comes out to Buck, and Buck does not react the way Eddie would prefer, they play an expedited game of friends with benefits chicken.

🔥 Hourglass by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories Coda, Love Confessions | 2,3K | Not Rated):

"Don't ask me to give you the next three weeks and then let you go." "I wouldn't." "Yes, you would." Eddie huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, I would. And you wouldn't say no." "No, I wouldn't," Buck admits. "So don't ask."

you give me such a future feeling by bellabrady (Different First Meeting AU | 2,5K | Not Rated):

"Fuck you!" he yells. The spider is still again and after a few moments, Eddie's heartrate starts to slow back down. He needs somebody to get this thing out of here. If not Christopher, then someone else. The problem is, he doesn't know a lot of people in LA yet. He hasn't even gotten around to introducing himself to his neighbors! Wait. His neighbors. — Or: Eddie is terrified of spiders, so he enlists his neighbor's help in getting rid of it. You can guess the rest.

🔥 Nap Trapped by paleredheadinascifi (Future fic, Post-S8E9: Sob Stories, Eddie Back from Texas | 3K | Teen):

“Eddie Diaz,” Buck gasps. “Are you using me for my very soft cardigan?” Eddie chuckles and tells the truth. “You looked so comfy. And I missed you.” Buck sucks in a breath beneath Eddie’s ear. “I missed you, too,” he whispers. “I think I missed you too much,” Eddie admits. Or, Buck wears his pink cardigan and Eddie nap traps him about it.

a tremendous thing by simplyylupin (S8E9: Sob Stories Spec | 3K | Teen):

“What the hell is your problem, Buckley?” Eddie snaps when he’s near enough. He shoves Buck’s shoulder, eyes blazing a shade of hazel in the firelight. “Your lungs not screwed up enough for your liking?” “My lungs are just fine,” Buck replies. Eddie narrows his eyes. “You’re so full of–” “Alright, Eddie,” Bobby interrupts before he can finish, “That’s enough.” in which buck projects his feelings into befriending a dog

a craving i can't fill. by dylaesthetics (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories, Eddie Moved to Texas | 4K | Teen):

“You have to tell him. Buck,” she says insistently. “You’ve got to—” “What would be the point?” he asks, cutting her short. “He’s moved to Texas. He’s not coming back. They never do.” “Not Eddie,” says Maddie. “He’ll come back. He always does. He’ll—” “Christopher is the priority,” once again, he cuts her off, restlessly stirring on the couch. “Christopher is what matters. And Eddie will give up anything for him. As he should. I don’t blame him for it, not one bit. He’s what’s most important.” ____ OR an interstate journey, a conversation with a Texan man and a sister, and a voicemail.

Divide, Conquer, & Drink by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Secret Relationship, Eddie Back from Texas | 4K | Teen):

With alcohol as their weapon of choice, Hen and Karen decide to separate and confront Buck and Eddie into confessing their feelings for one another.

til then be good and wait for me by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8A, Eddie Back from Texas, Getting Together | 6K | Teen):

Eddie returns from El Paso and asks Buck on a date. In the interim between the asking and the date itself, Buck acts completely normally. Definitely. Just don't ask anyone.

Anosognosia by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Nurse Buck, Getting Together | 7K | Teen):

When ER Nurse Evan Buckley meets Firefighter Paramedic Eddie Diaz, he is instantly smitten. They hit it off quickly, and begin seeing a lot of each other. It takes him a few weeks to realize they're doing more than just hanging out.

🔥 day five hundred sixty-four (and it feels like you just left my side) by BekkaChaos/ @bekkachaos (Post-S8A, Eddie Moved to Texas | 8K | Teen):

Eddie made the move to El Paso, Buck isn't coping so well so he takes to doing research and texting Eddie random facts and thoughts instead of saying all the things on his mind. Or, 5 times Buck texts Eddie with weird trivia/thoughts and 1 time he send him something genuine (by accident).

Lucky I’m in love (with my best friend) by scarmaddiewrites (Future fic, Eddie Coming Back From Texas | 8K | Teen):

Chris and Eddie are coming back from Texas and Buck and Eddie share one brain cell.

🔥 i’m gonna marry him anyway by weewooforever (Friends to Fiancés | 10K | Teen):

4 times eddie’s elderly neighbor tells him he’s so lucky to have such a wonderful husband + the 1 time she tells buck. the only problem? they’re not actually married.

🔥 Atomic Spiral by ameliahart/ @melliehart (S8, Getting Together, Jealous Eddie | 13K | Explicit):

And Eddie’s not jealous, of course not, that’s Buck’s thing. He thinks wryly of Tommy and sprained ankles, and an embarrassing fondness fills his chest. Buck’s so— Buck, wholly and completely, and Eddie misses him, is all. But that’s not why he’s doing it, honest. These people don’t appreciate Buck for who he is, not the way Eddie does. He just wants the best for Buck, okay? *** Eddie brings Christopher home from Texas to find that in his absence, Buck’s started sleeping around. Eddie is completely normal about that. (Or, Eddie starts cockblocking Buck. Things escalate from there.)

Time is Running Out (I wanna play the game, I want the friction) by bewitched__bothered__bewildered/ @bewitchedbotherednbewildered (A/B/O AU, Secret Omega Eddie | 70K | Explicit):

Crouching down, Buck lifts the polaroid from the floor, ready to place it back in the photo album without thought, when a glint of metal catches his eye. Standing in the picture, waist-up, wearing nothing but a dog tag, Eddie’s side profile is visible with his hands on his stomach. His pregnant stomach. As subtle as possible, Buck slips the picture into his pocket as Chris and Eddie keep bickering with each other. “I, uh, I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” and without waiting for either of them to say anything, Buck all but runs away from his best friend. His Omega best friend. Or, Alpha Buck spent the last few years at the 118 thinking Eddie was also an Alpha. Turns out, he’s not.

WIP

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 19/? | 109K | Explicit):

In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 14? | 60K | Teen):

Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

[sl-vega]

SWEET N' SOUR ! - a scaramouche celebrity smau

-> 0.1; winx club on crack

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT YOU?

"Pop sensation of the summer!" Seems to be a title synonymous with your name, ever since the release of your hit single "Espresso", every comment about your so-called homewrecking has been eradicated. "From sub-par popstar to a musical sensation!" Labels TVT News. "An absolute darling and sweetheart!" As the Monstadt Times proclaim. After your heartfelt piece 'all because I liked a boy' went viral, the industry just can't seem to get enough of you and your side of the story! Both new and old fans alike are drawn to your down-to earth demeanor, and how approachable you are, even after going back to being signed to a record label!

-> VEE'S NOTES

inspired by the one and only sabrina carpenter of course! (no surprise there)

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT VENTI BARBATOS?

"THE up and coming composer!" and "How the hell is this guy not on Broadway yet?" are terms of praise that Venti is all too familiar with. Composing a whole mythology based musical all by himself is no easy feat, if you're a theater kid, you've most definitely heard of him! Attracting both folklore enthusiasts and musical enjoyers, with Venti's skyrocketing popularity, many are questioning how he hasn't made it to the big stage already. Is he playing it safe? A desire for complete creative autonomy that no studio could ever give him? Or maybe he just knows his worth and wants to make the big names in the industry beg a little more. "Always an enigma, that modern day bard!" Writes DANDELION WEEKLY.

-> VEE'S NOTES

the au equivalent jorge rivera-herrans!

teyvat the musical is basically this world's epic (it's based of the archon war)

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT FURINA DE FONTAINE?

Furina is the IT girl of the acting industry, she's done it all! She's starred in both blockbuster movies and award winning live productions, offering both heartbreaking and inspiring performances! Starting her career at a young age, it's very clear that both her natural talent and dedication have played key parts in her success. Even after announcing her retirement from the acting scene, she's still remained in the industry as a director, lending her artistic vision to many critically acclaimed films. "Even after all her career changes, it's safe to say Furina de Fontaine will remain an influential figure in both the film and theater world!" - TVT News

-> VEE'S NOTES

furina isn't inspired by anyone in particular, she's just iconic like that!

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT LYNEY HEARTH?

Formerly one half of a sensational teen idol duo with his twin sister, Lyney's path to stardom was one he's always tread on since a young age. During the occasional acting jobs he took with Lynette in their youth, he found a passion for the art and eventually pursued it after the pair disbanded, quickly getting cast in a variety of live productions and musicals alike thanks to his talent for performing and his charming way of interacting with a live audience. Contrary to popular belief, him and his sister are still quite close, but,"One of them's just more of a recluse than the other." States POISSON Weekly

-> VEE'S NOTES

while lyney in this au isn't inspired by anyone in particular, the twin actor thing was kinda inspired by the olsen twins? even though that wasn't their main thing here lmao

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT KAEDEHARA KAZUHA?

"If only he was a lyricist, everyone would have some serious competition if he was." writes Sakura Media in their latest author centric piece about Kazuha. Thanks to both his gentle demeanor and heartfelt yet insightful way with words, he's become a recognizable name in many literary circles, his works being incredibly appreciated by critics and casual fans alike. Despite being exclusively a poet at the moment, a huge portion of his fanbase are hoping he pursues other forms of writing such as song writing, or even producing his own book series one day!

-> VEE'S NOTES

a while ago my TikTok fyp was filled with a bunch of people reading out their poems to their cameras, and that's kinda how I imagine kazuha got his start to becoming a well known author?

there's no particular poet on there that I could imagine Kazuha having a similar writing style too, but @/raeganspoetry on TikTok/Instagram was the first social media poet I was into so she deserves her props!

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI?

"The definition of brains of beauty." Is a frequently compliment Kokomi receives from her loyal followers. Her unique content style that's a combination of both historical video essays and GRWMs have set her apart from others like her. Her calm and collected personality combined with how well spoken she is make her a treat to watch, and have earned her a devoted fanbase over her career.

-> VEE'S NOTES

kokomi being both a beauty guru and one of those YouTubers that makes video summaries on things like wars and major historical events just MAKE SENSE to me

"grwm while I talk about guerilla warfare! (sponsored by laneige!)"

sns! kokomi is actually inspired by two of my favourite YouTubers!

overly sarcastic productions and oversimplified !! (check them out if you haven't already!)

additional notes:

FIRST PROFILES DONE (the format I went with required me to write quite a bit, so I didn't want to upload both the y/n and scara profiles at the same time since I want to go to quality over quantity while also maintaining my dailyish upload schedule)

also because I still want to keep you guys in suspense for scara's friend group LMAOO

anyways taglist is still open, ask to be tagged and lmk if I can use your usernames as fans in later chapters!

˚୨୧⋆｡ synopsis:  the bright lights of fame and fortune aren’t for everyone, and you’re starting to think you’re part of that majority. You just can’t seem to catch a break! Every movie you’re in goes straight to DVD, every album you drop just barely gets any streams. From child star to sub par popstar, it seems clear that the world has some kind of vendetta against you and you love to blame it on a certain rising musical sensation; Scaramouche. Thanks to your godforsaken luck you happened to go out with the wrong guy at the wrong time because he just so happened to be Scaramouche’s ex, next thing you know you wake up to truck loads of death threats, your record label dropping you, AND a whole album labelling you as the ‘other woman’! After what seemed like a never ending onslaught of straight bullying and harassment, you had long since retreated from the limelight, the only thing left from your music career being ever so occasional covers on YouTube that only your few close friends watched religiously. However, after writing a heartfelt original piece and uploading it from your humble bedroom, it goes viral! A single song has thrusted you head first into stardom once more, and face to face with the person you ruined it for you.

<- prev ll masterlist ll next ->

🍬 (open) taglist: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe @enrions @atlatcaheart @mywillt0live @myeomiz @adornavia @automaticpatroltragedy @scaraenthusiast1 @sesamemin @syunifu @blueberrybxba @fishii28 @a-sorrowful-tune @emvss @jiminscarmex @mwaiu @lloversss @d4y-dr3am3r @usagiarchive @idaissupercool @raytoebiter @lizzie-harper @anqelkoz @blue-moonies @lalalaloveallmydays @jinjjjia @ysabelyaps @zuhahearts @adres-tia @reivelmin @nxsh30

[kitty384]

This Is What Home Feels Like

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: In the quiet moments of a morning at home, Bucky reflects on how far he's come—and how deeply he's fallen in love with the life he's built with you and your daughter.

Warnings: Fluff, domestic family life, softness, implied healing from trauma, dad!Bucky moments that will melt your heart

I never thought my life would feel like this.

Quiet.

Warm.

Safe.

I wake up to soft snoring beside me—Y/N, curled under the quilt, her hair a wild halo on the pillow. Our daughter is tucked between us, cheeks smushed, arms flopped above her head like she’s been in the middle of an epic toddler dream battle.

I blink against the sunlight sneaking through the curtains and smile.

I’ve been smiling more lately.

Not because everything is perfect.

But because this? This feels perfect.

I slip out of bed carefully, grabbing a hoodie from the chair and tugging it on as I head into the kitchen.

Coffee first.

Always coffee.

The dog’s nails tap against the hardwood as he follows me, tail wagging lazily.

“Morning, buddy,” I whisper, reaching down to ruffle his ears.

He yawns and flops onto the kitchen rug like he’s already had a hard day.

The coffee pot gurgles to life, and I lean against the counter, listening to the house breathe.

It’s quiet.

Not the scary kind of quiet I used to know. Not the quiet that came before pain or orders or something dark.

This is the kind of quiet that holds peace.

The kind where I can hear my daughter humming in her sleep. Where Y/N’s breathing is soft and even. Where the fridge hums, and the floor creaks under my steps, and everything feels lived in.

It feels like mine.

When I walk back into the bedroom, Y/N’s stirring.

She blinks at me sleepily, then stretches like a cat, arm flopping onto the pillow our daughter’s now rolled away from.

“She’s in your spot,” I whisper, holding out the coffee cup.

Y/N smiles, still half-asleep. “She’s in your hoodie.”

I glance down and see that our daughter has somehow pulled it halfway onto her tiny body like a nest.

My chest tugs.

She really is mine.

Y/N sips her coffee and leans into my side.

“Happy?” she asks, voice rough.

I look at the two of them.

The love of my life, wrapped in blankets and sleepy kisses.

The child I never thought I deserved, now tangled in my clothes and our laughter.

“More than I knew I could be.”

The rest of the morning is a beautiful blur of small things.

Pancakes that are slightly too burnt because our daughter insisted on flipping them herself (“I’m so strong like Daddy”).

Cartoons playing in the background while we all sit cross-legged on the living room rug, building the world’s most structurally unstable block tower.

Y/N sneaking a kiss while the kid isn’t looking.

Me spinning our daughter in circles while she shrieks with laughter and demands to go “again again again!”

And when she crashes on the couch mid-snack—apple slice in hand, blanket falling off her legs—I tuck her in and just… watch her breathe for a second.

Because I still can’t believe she’s real.

That they’re both real.

That I get to keep this.

Later, Y/N’s doing laundry and singing softly to herself while our daughter tries to “help” by folding clothes and mostly making a mess.

I stand in the doorway, arms crossed, just watching.

“You’re staring,” Y/N says with a smirk.

“Can’t help it.”

“You okay?”

I nod. “Just… taking it in.”

She walks over and rests her head on my chest. “You do that a lot lately.”

I slide my arms around her waist. “Feels like if I don’t soak up every second, I’ll miss something.”

She leans up and kisses my jaw. “You’re not missing anything. You’re right here.”

Our daughter yells, “Look I folded a shirt!” and holds up a balled-up pair of socks with pride.

Y/N and I both clap like she’s just invented electricity.

She beams.

And I think—this. This is what I fought for. What I clawed my way out for. What I never thought I’d get to live long enough to see.

And now that I have it, I’m never letting go.

That night, after books and baths and bubble-covered floors, we crawl into bed again—our girl fast asleep in her own room for once, the monitor resting on the nightstand.

Y/N curls into my side, tracing circles on my chest.

“Today was a good day,” she murmurs.

“They all are,” I whisper back.

“Even when she throws applesauce at your face?”

“Especially then.”

She snorts, then kisses my collarbone. “We made something really good, didn’t we?”

I nod.

And then I whisper something I’ve never said out loud before.

“This is what home feels like.”

Y/N pulls the blanket tighter around us. “Then let’s stay in it forever.”

And I swear to god—I will.

Masterlist

Request

[ahqueinfortunio]

Lake Days and Love in Michigan - Luke Hughes

It’s a warm summer afternoon at a quiet lake tucked away in northern Michigan. The kind of place where time slows down, phones go forgotten, and even NHL players remember what it’s like to just be.

Luke Hughes is stretched out on a dock with his girlfriend, both in swimsuits, both lazily soaking up the sun like sleepy turtles. The lake water gently laps at the wood beneath them, and dragonflies hover in the golden light. His hair is still wet from a failed attempt at an “epic” backflip off the dock, which she rated a 3.5/10 for style but gave a bonus point for splash radius.

She’s lying on her back beside him, eyes closed, sunbathing. He props himself up on one elbow, gazing at her with a crooked smile. “You know,” he says, nudging her lightly, “science says sunlight increases serotonin levels.”

She peeks one eye open. “Is this a lead-in to something?”

“No,” Luke says innocently, then adds, “...Yes. I think your serotonin levels are peaking. I mean, these—” he gestures vaguely at her chest with mock seriousness “—are practically photosynthesizing.”

She bursts out laughing. “You’re so dumb.”

“Dumb, but observant,” he says, grinning proudly.

She rolls over onto her side, facing him. “You’re just using nature to justify being a boob guy.”

“Wrong,” Luke says, leaning closer. “I’m a you guy. The boobs are just an incredibly generous bonus.”

She playfully pushes him into the lake.

He resurfaces, sputtering but laughing, and yells, “Totally worth it!”

As he clambers back onto the dock, dripping and laughing, she’s already holding out a towel for him with a smirk.

It’s one of those simple moments that ends with them lying side by side again, warm from the sun, tangled fingers and happy hearts, with only the sound of distant loons and the occasional splash to keep them company.

The sun begins to dip below the treeline, casting long streaks of gold across the glassy lake. The dock is quieter now—just the two of them, a half-finished bag of kettle chips, and a Bluetooth speaker playing something soft and slow, like James Taylor met a lo-fi beat.

Luke is lying on his back again, arms folded behind his head. His girlfriend lies beside him, her head resting on his chest, tracing small shapes over the "M" on his college sweatshirt with her finger.

“You ever think about what you’d be doing right now if you weren’t playing hockey?” she asks softly.

He considers it, then smirks. “Probably still trying to impress you with cannonballs.”

“You barely impressed me with that backflip.”

“Yet, here you are,” he says smugly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She lifts herself slightly, eyeing him mischievously. “Only because I like a project.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh.”

“But accurate.”

He laughs, pulling her in for a kiss that starts off teasing, like everything with them, and then lingers a little longer—slower, sweeter. The kind of kiss that says: yeah, this is real.

Afterward, she whispers, “You’re lucky I like your dumb face.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You like my dumb face enough to go for a night swim?”

“Right now?”

He stands, offering her his hand. “Moonlight, no one around, water’s still warm. Come on—live a little.”

She takes it, rolling her eyes. “If I get leeches, I’m suing.”

“You can’t sue someone for romance,” he calls over his shoulder, already half-jogging down the dock.

They leap in together—splash!—and the world goes quiet again, just ripples and laughter echoing across the lake. The water is silky and cool around them, and when they float on their backs, it feels like they’re lying among stars.

At one point, Luke swims up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, whispering, “This—right now—this is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

She turns in his arms, gently cups his face, and says, “You’re not just my project, you know. You’re my person.”

He kisses her again—this time with no jokes, no wisecracks—just warm skin, lake water, and a quiet promise.

Later, wrapped in oversized hoodies and a shared blanket, they sit at the end of the dock watching the moonlight ripple across the lake.

“I’m never forgetting this,” he says.

She leans her head on his shoulder. “Good. Because you’re taking me back here every summer.”

He grins. “Deal. But next time, you’re rating my cannonball a ten.”

“We’ll see, Hughes. We’ll see.”

[slytherizz]

The Price of Dignity - Sebastian Sallow/F!MC

Tags/Warnings: 18+ | Dubious Consent | explicit sexual content | Azkaban!Seb | Masturbation

All tags can be found on Ao3

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: Inexplicably, despite her betrayal - she still made him hard. And the price of dignity is not worth the cost of a moment of feeling alive.

A/N If you've read 'In the Shadow of Us' it's an unhinged prequel of Seb in Azkaban. If you haven't - you can still enjoy some no-context angsty wanking. Azkaban Seb my beloved. I've missed writing you.

Days bled into each other. Waxed and waned in shades of grey that were never quite new or whole. Colour void and desolate in his narrow world. Unceasing waves crashed against the monolith. Brine and salt spray dashed hope across the bay. As tattered and discarded as its residents. 

Sebastian sprawled on the half rotten mattress. He had spent the first month dragging it around like a prized but festering corpse to every corner of his cell in hope he would find somewhere it would stay dry. It was a futile effort but sometimes he still tried to. Not because he thought he could succeed but more of just a way to pass the time.  

But there was simply too much of it. Sprawling out in front of him. An open waiting maw of nothingness. 

Patience was not one of Sebastian’s virtues. There has never been enough time then. Told time and time again that one second he’d blink and his youth would be gone. Perhaps because his had never gotten to begin. Guttered out before his prime.

When there was nothing to rush to, no purpose for waking, no reason to grasp ahold and pull himself forward - time felt suffocatingly infinite.

Not a blessing but a curse. Sand slipped through your fingers as you tried to snatch a hold of it - or it trapped you alone in the bottom of the hourglass. Buried you alive under the weight of it. 

Sebastian stared up at the ceiling, his vision swimming. Boredom, as crippling to his clever mind. A dementor he bred and nurtured inside his own head. He knew every corner, stone and scratch. The ones he’d made, crude drawings with a sharpened stone. Wrote stories, epic poetry about his brothers and sisters who had made the rest. Played hopscotch, chasing memories of Anne when the torches flickered. 

When had he lost that particular tether? The one still bargained, wared with the truth and naively believed that she would come for him? Wept for his mother in the same vein. 

The girl who he loved never existed. But all the same, it felt as if she died. And he mourned them both. 

Not enough life lived to reflect back on. Sebastian circled the drain of memories of his brief chance at life. But still even now he could not wrap his head around how someone he’d known for mere months had altered the course of his trajectory so significantly was a mystery. Or was it? And in his arrogance, he’d courted a devil and thought his quick thinking could save himself from the flames. 

Fallen into her, moon eyes like a fae trap. Convinced himself that maybe, just maybe, the scales had finally tipped in his favour and out poured his perfect solution. A tool. A treasure. A saviour bundled in the body of a lost soul so like his own. Pretty, pliant and yearning.  Convinced himself that it was love. 

Her residence, all but a brief fragment in his life, had been the anchor tied to his ankles which pulled him below unforgiving waters. 

Sebastian scrubbed his hands over his face, itched away the salt on his skin. Half moons of dirt cresting his nails. The tattoo on his wrist - a reminder, an inky burning stain and a trophy for what she cost him.

Inexplicably, despite her betrayal - she still made him hard. 

Reminded him that he was still very much a man. A hot-blooded one at that. One that wanted to live, scream, rage - to fuck. 

Even now, the thought of traitorous hands on his skin still made his blood thrum. His body ached with need, at the memory of her coming undone on his cock. Her climax breaking with his fist fisted possessively in her hair. It boiled him from the inside out. Made his cock twitch. Reminded him he was still alive.  

Which was something easily forgotten. Sometimes he wondered if his humanity had been taken from him or at some stage he abandoned it? It wasn’t a quill or a checked coat easily misplaced or borrowed away but in some regards he’d left it long before she’d had the Auror’s cart him off to Azkaban. 

Sebastian loosened the drawstring of his trousers and shucked the threadbare cotton down his thighs. Cock achingly hard arching up towards his stomach.

Yes - still very much a man. One that wanted to feel a warm body writhing beneath him again. The thunder of a heart under his palm as he made it race. The give of soft flesh beneath his teeth. Not just a body. Her body . Clenching around him as he forced orgasm after each shattering orgasm out of her. Feel her at her most alive and he, the root cause. 

A spring twanged as it snapped, giving out as he sank deeper into the mattress. Later it would dig into his back. Sebastian stretched out until his heels found purchase on the rough hewn stone. He hissed through his teeth as he swiped his thumb across the pearlescent bead growing at his tip. Smeared it across the head, down his shaft. Groaned low and guttural. Head tipped back, notched between bricks the sound of his reedy laboured breaths echoed loud as he worked himself over. If he didn’t come he’d cry, until his throat was raw and his face salt slick and tight as a drum. But for tonight he would fist his cock and remember he was alive. 

At some point, he had gone beyond caring who heard him. The first time he’d woken, hard and wanting he’d huddled himself into the corner. But even the resolve clad in iron eventually rusted and he’d muffled the shame of his pleas of her name into his pillow. It didn’t belong in this place but nor did he. Blame and bitterness circled the drain as he tried to stifle his moans as he worked himself over. Back when he thought maybe there was something worth preserving. That he could leave this place. That he could be a man again. 

But what was the point in preserving his dignity when all it did was cost him the only small pleasures he could glean from this place? What was dignity against feeling the sparked heat across his skin as he fucked his fist? 

Who was he preserving it for anyways? Certainly not her. If anything the thought of how his filthy wretched hands could stain her only made him hunger. How he might dirty her skin as he cooed in her ear, ‘all the guard know you let me fuck you - fast and raw.’  

He wanted her to hate it. 

Hate that it was him. Hate that only he could make her feel her most alive. Hate herself for how much she loved it. Fuck her till she cried.  

What would it would be like to fuck her right here? Right into this soiled mattress in his cell. 

Two jailbirds cooing in the same rusted cage. 

Soft planes of her body spooled out like a silk sheet that didn’t belong. Clean and untainted. Pulse fluttering in her throat, chest heaving eyes wide as she would try to wriggle free of him as she did her sins. Fear. Disgust. Lust. All those wretched things people cringe away from. All those undignified things that Sebastian craved, etched across her face.   

Feel her body tremble and spasm as he pressed himself into her. Hard thrusts into her tight heat as her traitorous body trembled and clenched around his cock. Lick the soap and mallowsweet from her skin. Salt and sweat on his tongue marking her as his as he held her wrist bound above her head. 

Let the guards watch. The other inmates jeer. Why should he care? Return the favour by stripping her of her dignity as she had him. 

Fuck her until she was pleading for release. On all fours presenting her cunt to him. A bitch in heat with her arse in the air. Her own dignity gone, the way of martyrs. Begging him for it, her hands clawing the stones, mark scratches where he counted days as he drove into her. Beg him to let her cum. Make her purr and keen for the man she condemned. Sea spray and salt tears across her cheeks as her core pulsed around him and he filled her greedy cunt with his seed again and again - until eventually it took.  

Sebastian spat her name, like a curse. Foul and depraved. A filthy groan came hard. Spend pulsing from his cock, painting his stomach soiling the hem of his shirt. He panted hard, whimpering as he continued to stroke his still twitching cock. Tried to prolong his bliss before it slipped away and took with it another part of himself that he bartered away. 

A hacked cough and the sound of spit hitting the floor. “Again? For fucks sake put you dick away 216.”

“Bugger off,” Sebastian called back, voice still reedy and strained from his release. “Just because you haven’t been able to get it up since ‘93.“ An irrefutable stab in the dark when not one of them knew what year it was. 

“Leave him,” another disembodied voice crooned. “I wouldn’t mind a go on his bird either.”

Her name on their gnarled and bitten tongues sounded wrong. Chewed up and spat out like bone shards between their teeth that would giveaway to infection and decay. But from the first moment he’d spoken it here he’d lost it. It didn’t belong to him anymore, or perhaps he belonged too much to this place and he was too made up of her and everything they’d twisted themselves into. 

Even once he was long gone. When they’d hollowed out his core and all that was left of her with it. Dragged his lifeless body from this prison to be cast into the sea - the walls of this tomb would always remember her name.

[cynthiav06]

I have been living with this headcanon/brainrot about Athena (both from Epic the Musical and pjo) for a long while and a warning for the faint of heart, you know what read it anyway cause it haunts me , so everyone else has to be haunted by it too, cause I am petty like that.

Most people might be aware of the myth that Athena sprung from Zeus's head fully formed and in battle armor, but a few might not know the preceding myth, so here's a quick recap:

Zeus married the titaness Metis, who was the titaness of wise counsel, wisdom, and planning. She was also Athena's mother. Metis was his advisor, both an indispensable aid and threat to him, given her power and cunning. But it's no Greek mythology without a son overthrowing the father archetype haunting the narrative. There was a similar prophecy about Metis's second child being so powerful that he would overthrow Zeus. Mind you Metis was pregnant with Athena when the following events transpire:

Zeus being Zeus, paranoid and power hungry, the King of the Gods and the God of "Justice" manipulates Metis into playing a shape-shifting game and when Metis turned into a fly , he swallowed her whole. [I know Greek patriarchs have a thing for eating their children or spouses pregnant with said children. Runs in the family, apparently]

Mind you in Greek myths, swallowed children, or in this case, swallowed wife pregnant with said child stay alive for a good amount of time even inside someone else's organs. So Metis gives birth to Athena inside Zeus's head and raises her there. She teaches her warfare and strategy until Metis herself eventually dies, i.e., her essence fades. Knowing what she must do to not meet the same fate, Athena hammers on Zeus's skull from the inside to escape. Everyone knows the rest of the myth.

But imagine Athena's first lesson being that the man she calls her father is the one who killed her mother and almost killed Athena herself by swallowing Metis so she must do everything in her power to survive and avoid that fate by staying on his good side. To try and fit in this twisted family of immortals, half of who hate her existence and half who are indifferent to him. So she does exactly that.

Think of Athena asking to be a Virgin Goddess from learning of what comes of marriage with gods.

Now, the continuation of Athena's myth is that she goes to Atlantis to train with the sea nymphs. There she makes her first ever friend and someone she comes to dearly love, Pallas. Greek myths being allergic to happy endings, one day when Pallas and Athena are sparring as they do a bit more seriously this time; Zeus being a nosy bastard decides to spy in just when Pallas is about to land a finishing blow on Athena. Thinking she might kill his daughter, he kills Pallas by blasting her with his lightning. Athena, being heartbroken , Zeus gave her Aegis as an apology. The continuation of this is that Athena adopts the namesake Pallas Athena and even carves a statue in likeness of her friend called Palladium and then more.

But think of Athena heartbroken and bitter as the Goddess of Wisdom learns her second lesson, then she must abandon all personal relations and sentiment before her father ends it for her in one way or another. For Pallas was the first true relation in her life after her mother.

Keep in mind that Pallas is Poseidon's granddaughter through his firstborn son and heir Triton. This is the point that sparks eternal enmity between Athena and Poseidon, and all those who come after will suffer in the wake of this tragedy.

So Athena chooses to remain alone and without a friend to avoid such a situation. Imagine Athena being hurt, especially brutally, when Odysseus says: "Since you claim you are so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone? You're alone!"

Because that's exactly it. Athena is wise. She knows the consequence of endearing herself to someone again so she stays alone to avoid such a thing and yet coming from someone who is so close to being her first friend in a long time, hurt and enraged she leaves.

Now, when finally Athena comes to terms with her friendship with Odysseus she finds yet again that her father Zeus struck him and his crew in a similar fashion to Pallas , yet again ripping her only friend away from her .

He is not dead yet, and Athena isn't about to let that happen. This time, she fights against Zeus, risks her life and position of being the favorite, and her survival method all because she can't bear to see Odysseus die.

Think of the agonizing fate of Athena, repeatedly being traumatized by her father yet having to do his bidding and stay on his good side to survive and live not for herself for she lives in misery but for the people who suffered for died for their association with her. In her eyes, she must suffer tenfold for letting this happen thrice, for all eternity under the man who so wretchedly ruined her life.

[evermoredeluxe]

taylorswift: In summation

We have officially wrapped the European leg of The Eras Tour. With it came the most passionate crowds l've ever played for, new traditions in the show, and an entirely new era added in. It was a more hectic pace than we'd done before, and I'm so proud of my crew/ fellow performers for being able to physically perform that show and build our massive stage, take it apart, and make magic with so few days in between for recovery and travel. They're the most impressive people I know and I'm so lucky they gave The Eras Tour their time, their energy, and their expertise.

Walking onstage in London was a rollercoaster of emotions. Having our Vienna shows cancelled was devastating. The reason for the cancellations filled me with a new sense of fear, and a tremendous amount of guilt because so many people had planned on coming to those shows. But I was also so grateful to the authorities because thanks to them, we were grieving concerts and not lives. I was heartened by the love and unity I saw in the fans who banded together. I decided that all of my energy had to go toward helping to protect the nearly half a million people I had coming to see the shows in London. My team and I worked hand in hand with stadium staff and British authorities every day in pursuit of that goal, and I want to thank them for everything they did for us. Let me be very clear: I am not going to speak about something publicly if I think doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who come to my shows.

In cases like this one, 'silence' is actually showing restraint, and waiting to express yourself at a time when it's right to. My priority was finishing our European tour safely, and it is with great relief that I can say we did that.

And then London felt like a beautiful dream sequence.

All five crowds at Wembley Stadium were bursting with passion, joy, and exuberance. The energy in that stadium was like the most giant bear hug from 92,000 people each night, and it brought me back to a place of carefree calm up there.

We had some EPIC surprise performances from my long time friends@teddysphotos, @florenceandthemachine, and @jackantonoff. Performing 'Florida!!!' with Flo for the first time was unforgettable and Ed took me right back to our old Red Tour memories. It was the most dizzying honor to become the first solo artist to play Wembley 8 times in one tour. To the fans who have seen us this summer, you'll always have the most sparkling place in my memories. You were a dream to perform for, dance with, and share those magical moments with. We'll see you all again when we resume The Eras Tour in October, but for now we get to take a much needed rest.

Thank you for the adventure of a lifetime.

May it continue...

💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

📷: TAS Rights Management

[meetmeinthepast]

Keep Dry, Little Lab Rat (plationic Ygor x GN!Reader, no use of y/n)

This idea is ridiculous, but it was raining heavily where I live when the first footage from Epic Universe was coming out, this idea formed, and it wouldn't leave.

A Sadly Necessary Disclaimer: this is meant to be entirely and completely plationic. It is, at most, a detached sort of affectionate, if you squint. It is also meant to resemble the character as seen in the ride and as played by multiple actors, not to reflect any real individual who may play this part. Please never let this or anything I may write in the future be used as a reason to harass or cause discomfort to anyone at the park, be they employees (performers or otherwise) or guests.

(Is this the first EU-specific x reader?)

"Where do you think you're going?" Ygor's voice rang out through the castle entryway, where you had just finished zipping up your jacket.

"Out for a walk?" It was raining in Darkmoor, beautiful and dreary, and you couldn't wait to see this gothic wonderland in such weather. You were still new to this whole "being a live-in lab rat" business, but one thing you were sure of was Dr. Victoria's promise that you could go on walks when and where you liked, for the most part. The better to keep your organs in shape, her assistant had once told you with a grin, but here he was stopping you from doing just that.

"Not dressed like that, you're not," he declared, storming towards you. At the sight of you shrinking, he softened sightly. "Where are your galoshes? Where is your umbrella? And this, this jacket? Too thin, too light, it is not even wool. You are going to catch your death prematurely and that would be bad for experimenting. No, no, come here." A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you across the room, down the corridor, and to a hall tree by a side entrance. It held the usual things, cold weather clothing, shoes, and hats, plus a few things you couldn't identify and tried not to think about.

"Off with the rain slicker, you need something better." You complied, and he snatched it away, throwing it on a hook to the annoyance of a bat who had previously been hanging there. Ygor began shifting through the clothing on the hall tree, holding things up to you and replacing them, muttering to half to himself. "You should have leather, keeps you dry, good and sturdy. Ygor will see what we have in the leftovers bin. You are not the vegan, yes?" You were too stunned to respond, but he brushed past your silence. "Eh, does not matter, no animals were harmed. Like Ygor tells the authorities, it's not like the people were using it anymore, yes?" He finally settled on a heavy wool cloak that was a size too big and fastened it around your shoulders with a large and frankly terrifying pin before sitting you down on the hall tree. "We should get you something fur lined, too; you allergic to werewolf? They shed a lot, so it's cheapest and easiest, but does smell like dog, so you let Ygor know if that is deal breaker." In a matter of moments, he had pulled off your shoes and slipped a pair of oversized rubber boots on your feet, hauled you up, and pulled the cloak's hood over your head.

"There now. Take this," an umbrella was pushed into your hands, "and enjoy your walk. Remember to get your heart rate up, keep it strong so we can use it when you're done. Don't talk to any strangers unless they'd make good lab rats, don't end up on the news or in the prison or the hospital, and if you do then Ygor never knew you. Goodbye, have a nice walk, I'll miss you." It wasn't until your feet hit the first puddle that you realized he had shuffled you out the door. The long walk that ensued was, at least, enough to help you clear your head from the strange encounter.

A week later, when the rain looked ready to overtake the town again, there was a rustling outside your door. Opening it revealed a long coat folded neatly on the ground with a tag labeled to your experiment number and signed with a single Y. The coat was well fit to you, made of bits of suspicious leather which appeared to be tattooed in places, sewn together with a baseball stitch, and lined with a soft tawny fur that smelled faintly of wet dog.

[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!