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mulletpermsicantlookaway · 2 months

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The Jockification of Jeremy

This is Part 1 of a sequel to The Cupbearer, Part 2. The characters of Jeremy and Chase are my invention. The characters of James (the originally unnamed narrator of the previous story), Tyler, Steve, Derek, Brittney, and Becky were created by the earlier writers.

We start where the last story left off, seen from Jeremy's point of view.

__________

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe I’m actually going to get to make out with Steve and James! They are so effing hot! Steve’s the cuter one, but they are boyfriends, after all, so it’s a package deal. That’s fine. James is sexy, but he’s scary, too. He’s not tall, and he’s quite a bit shorter than Steve, but he’s big! He almost looks like that linebacker guy Derek’s younger brother, except that Derek is blond, and James’s hair is so dark it’s almost black. They’re not related as far as I know, other than being total jocks. Derek has the reputation of being one mean SOB, and he looks the part. All the freshmen are terrified of him. But the freshmen avoid James, too. From what I hear, he’s stuffed one or two guys into a locker before.

The bottom line is that there’s no way I want to get on James’s bad side. He made it clear this was a one-time thing, and if I bother Steve and him after this, he will seriously mess me up. I believe him. You don’t tell a guy like him No.

It’s funny; despite him looking like a walking stereotype of a dumb jock, rumors have it that the guy’s super smart. If he is, he sure doesn’t come off that way. He doesn’t seem gay, either, but neither does Steve. Our football team has several gay jocks, and unless you see one of them kissing a guy, you can’t tell them apart from the straight jocks. Certainly no one makes fun of any of them for being gay. And, to their credit, they’ve made life easier for all the gay guys at school. The gay jocks may not like nerds or geeks much, but they will intervene if they see any gay kid being harassed for being gay. That’s really cut down on the homophobia, because you’re taking your life in your hands making an anti-gay remark if one of the gay jocks overhears it.

Steve isn’t as intimidating as his boyfriend. He’s very cute, especially for a football jock. He’s tall, and plenty built, too, but he doesn’t have the sheer size his boyfriend has. James’s thighs look big enough to crush a bowling ball. I can’t imagine him wearing jeans; it must be hard for him to find clothes that fit. In fact, I don’t remember seeing him wear anything but athletic shorts, even this time of year, but a lot of the jocks wear shorts all the time. James and Steve seem to find shorts that are a lot shorter and more form-fitting than what most of the other jocks wear. Maybe that’s how you can tell gay jocks: they’re not afraid to show off how built they are.

Dear Diary,

Tonight’s the night! I’m going to meet them at Steve’s house for a “study” session after dinner. Hopefully they forget to shower after practice. I hear that they and several of the guys on the football team have monster cocks, and from the look of the bulges in their shorts, I don’t think I’ll be disappointed.

I feel a little bad that I’m hiding all this from Chase. He’s been my best friend since grade school, and we share practically everything, but he doesn’t like jocks. At all. And he sure doesn’t get why I find them hot, so I don’t want to get him started.

Dear Diary,

I have a lot to tell you. First off, Steve’s got a nice, big room, and his house is huge. Clearly his parents have a lot of money. Other than being big, his room is pretty much what you’d expect of a jock: athletic gear and clothes lying around, and more than a whiff of locker room smell. One thing’s odd, though; he’s got a large, fancy, and expensive-looking chess set in his room. Hardly the kind of thing you’d expect from a football player. I heard somewhere he used to be on the chess team, although that’s hard to believe. Second, you really have no clue how big guys like that are until you see them out of their clothes. Steve’s gorgeous like an athletic model, but I about fainted at the sight of his cock. I knew he had a big package, but that thing’s obscene! And James’s is just as big, if not bigger. Now James is one hairy dude: chest, legs, arms, everywhere. He’s even got 6-pack abs you can hardly see for all the hair. Steve’s got hardly any chest hair, just a few hairs around his nipples, but he’s got a lot of leg hair and a nice treasure trail leading up to his belly button.

It was a hot time, but kind of overwhelming. I actually felt a little queasy afterward. Maybe one of them had a cold, because my voice is kind of scratchy and hoarse now, and I feel “off”, as if I’m coming down with something. Well, whatever happens, it was absolutely worth it! I even got a little souvenir! I’m not sure whose jockstrap it is, I’m guessing Steve’s, just because it was his room. It’s huge and stretched out, but that tells me nothing: either one of their packages could have done that. I know some people think some of the football players must be on steroids to be so big, but it can’t be that. Even I know that steroids shrink your balls, and there’s nothing shrunken about their balls.

Dear Diary,

When I went to bed last night, I slept with the jockstrap as a reminder of what a good time I had. I think I’ll wear it to school. Under my clothes, no one will know I’ve got it on. Not even Chase.

Dear Diary,

Wearing the jockstrap to school was interesting. It’s obviously way too big for me, so I wore it under a pair of my briefs so that it’d stick close to my balls. It must be my imagination, but it felt kind of warm and tingly down there when I had it on. Another weird thing is how that jock smell seems to get stuck in your nose. I even imagine I smell it on myself even when I’m not wearing the jockstrap. I still feel a bit “off”. I’m not as hoarse now, but I seem to have a lot of phlegm, and I’m having trouble clearing it out. My nose isn’t stuffed up, but my voice kind of rumbles as if I’ve got a cold.

Dear Diary,

I’ve worn that jockstrap to school all week, and now it’s getting kind of gamey. But it’s recovered amazingly from being stretched out by jock football player monster cocks; it’s not loose at all now. In fact, I think I could wear it by itself without the briefs to hold it in place. To avoid chafing while wearing the extra material, I found I had to start walking with a bit of a rolling swagger. It just feels more natural. I can’t believe I used to just mince around. This feels so much more, I don’t know, confident, I guess.

Dear Diary,

My balls and cock started to feel itchy all the time, and I was scratching a lot, so I decided I’d better give up and wash that jockstrap out. I’ll have to do it myself. I don’t want to put it in the laundry and have my mom ask me what I’m doing with it.

Dear Diary,

I finally washed the jockstrap out in the sink and then let it dry in my room overnight. I think that got all the smell out, but since I kind of have that smell in my brain all the time now, it’s hard to tell for sure. Anyway, washing it seems to have shrunk it a lot. I wouldn’t call it tight, but my junk fills it just fine, and I certainly don’t need briefs to hold it on. That’s a good thing, because my briefs all suddenly got tight and uncomfortable, and now I’m sticking to boxers. My throat isn’t scratchy anymore, and the phlegm finally cleared up, but my voice hasn’t gotten back to normal. I don’t sound sick or anything, but everything comes out in this low rumble that doesn’t sound like me. A few people have made comments about it, including Chase, who asked me why I sounded so douchey. Maybe my voice hadn’t quite finished changing? I’d been hoping to audition for the winter musical, but unless my voice recovers, I don’t see how I’d be able to sing any of the leads.

Dear Diary,

Mom must have messed up something in the laundry, because all the sudden my clothes are all tight, and my pants have shrunk and they’re riding highwater. Even my shoes are tight; she must have tried to wash them, too.

Dear Diary,

As much as I hate to give it up, I think I’d better stop wearing that jockstrap. Chase came over to work on our joint class project, and the first thing he said was that my bedroom smelled like a locker room. I guess I just don’t smell it anymore. I’m itchy down there again, so it’s probably time to wash out that jock anyway. Then I guess I’d better put it away. Too bad. It’s been fun while it lasted.

Dear Diary,

I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in the locker room suiting up for a football game with Chase, Derek, James, Steve, and Tyler. I’ve never even talked to Tyler. He’s one of the other jocks on the football team. I think he’s friends with James, not that it matters; all the jocks seem to hang out together in one big herd. Anyway, that dream kind of freaked me out. First, what’s Chase doing playing football? It didn’t even really look like him; it was like a jock version of Chase, which was kind of hot. Second, why would I dream about Tyler when I hardly know who he is? Third, I’ve never played football in my life. Football season’s about over, anyway, but our team’s in the playoffs this year for the first time in forever, apparently. Everyone’s saying what got them there was all the new players we got this year, like Tyler, James, Steve, Zach, and some others. With that much talent and size, we’re creaming the other schools.

Dear Diary,

What the fuck is going on with the laundry? Just when I think Mom is done shrinking my clothes, she does it again. It’s getting to be pathetic. I mean, people are looking at me funny, even Steve and James. That Tyler guy, the one from my weird dream (and he is one husky dude; he’s nearly as big as Derek), he looked at me sideways in the hall and said something like, “You been working out, little bro? You ever think about trying out? Football’s about over, but basketball and wrestling are starting, and I think they’re both short a few guys. I don’t think I’ve noticed you before, but you’re getting some height on you, and some muscle, too.” I mean, he’s talking to me as if he thinks I’m a jock. I don’t get it. Just because my pants are shrinking doesn’t mean I’m getting taller. And I certainly haven’t been working out.

Dear Diary,

Steve and James were looking at me weird again today. I don’t know what those dudes are staring at me for. I haven’t said word one to them since we made out. As I said before, bros, I don’t want a mean-looking motherfucker like James to beat me up because he thinks I’m trying to hit on his boyfriend. Not that I haven’t been horny as hell lately. I keep zoning out in class thinking about naked football players or basketball players or wrestlers or whatever, and by the time I snap out of it, half the school day’s gone by, and I hardly remember any of it. I think about Chase, too. Sometimes I imagine Chase as a naked football player or wrestler, and then I really get horny. By the way, I had to start wearing that jockstrap again. I bought myself another one, too. It was just too uncomfortable to go without wearing one. I think I wore that first fucking strap too long and got used to the feeling. If I’m not wearing one now, my balls feel all heavy and shit, and my dick flops all over the place when I walk, and I feel as if I’m lumbering around with this huge weight in my pants. I guess I just need the support, especially since none of my briefs fit anymore.

Dear Dudery, Dear Di – Let’s just drop this dweeb diary shit and I’ll just write what happens, okay?

Things keep getting weirder. Today James came up to me in the hall and said, “Little bro, I think you and I need to have a little bro talk. Let’s take a walk.”

James strolled until we’d reached a hallway hardly anyone was in, and then he turned toward me with his eyebrows slightly raised, as if he’d asked me a question and was waiting for the answer. I said, “What’s up, dude? I’ve left you and Steve alone, so what’s your effing beef?”

James said, “You have, and that was smart. Trust me, you do not want to be on my bad side. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, not exactly, anyway.”

Then I said, “So? What’d you want to talk about?”

“You, little bro. I wanted to talk about you – and your future. Think of me as kind of like a guidance counselor,” he said with a chuckle and a one-eyebrow-raised smirk on his face. “Seriously, though, are you feeling okay, little bro? You notice anything different about yourself lately?”

“No, I feel fine,” I said, puzzled. “Well, I’ve been kind of itchy, but my clothes are too tight. My mom’s been doing something with the laundry. She keeps shrinking everything.”

His smirk widened into one of those shit-eating grins that all the jocks seem to do when they think something’s funny that you don’t. He said, “Look, little bro, don’t go blaming your poor mom. A mom’s a gay bro’s best friend anyway, but that’s another story. Let’s get back to what’s been going on with you, little bro, because Steve and I – and Tyler, and some others – have seen this kind of thing happen before. Your clothes haven’t changed, little bro, not at all. You have. Are you really that clueless? Have you given yourself a good look in a mirror lately?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, James?”

“Yeah, there it is. That’s what I was waiting for. Starting to lose it, aren’t you? You really don’t want to push it with me, little bro, but I’m going to be – magnanimous – and let that pass. As I was saying, I’ve seen this kind of thing before. You’re feeling super aggressive right now, and super horny, and that’s why you’re lashing out. Otherwise, you’d know better than to try to get me mad. Let’s get back to the point. Have you seriously not noticed that you’re at least three inches taller than you were a couple of weeks ago? You’re taller than I am now. And you’ve gotten bigger. It’s not a lot, but I can see it. You’re scratching yourself a ton when you think no one’s looking, so I’m guessing you’re sprouting some new hair. Your voice is lower, and – how do I put this – you don’t exactly talk like a theater queen anymore. You’ve also been looking kind of distracted, as if something’s on your mind. And I can guess what it is, because those tight pants of yours leave nothing to the imagination.

“Anyway, little bro, even if you haven’t noticed that you’ve been changing, other people have.” Then he leaned in so closely that I could feel his hot breath on my face. He whispered, “And – assuming you remember our recent get-together – Steve and I know very well that your package wasn’t nearly that big when we saw it, okay? We’re guessing that jockstrap you filched from us fits you pretty well by now, right? So go take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror and then tell me what you really see, because right now, you’re either really dumb or you’re in complete denial. Or maybe both.”

I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t think. Suddenly I was so filled with rage I couldn’t see straight. I wanted to lash out; I needed to hit him or hit something, but James said, “Calm down, little bro. I know you really want to go there, but don’t, okay. You may be taller, but I’m a lot bigger and stronger than you are, and I really don’t want to hurt you. That aggression you’re feeling right now will get more manageable in time, trust me.”

My brain was spinning a thousand directions at once, trying to make some sense of what James was telling me, but all I could think to say was “Why do you keep calling me ‘Little bro’?”

“Because you’re almost a bro, but not quite.” Then he smirked at me again and added, “Oh, before I forget, expect a talk from the basketball coach about trying out for the team. Maybe the wrestling coach, too, but I know for a fact that my bro Derek talked to the basketball coach about you.”

“Why the fuck would I join the basketball team, bro? I don’t know how to play basketball.”

“Because, bro,” he said pointedly, with an even bigger smirk, “Jocks belong to a team. Before I joined the football team, I didn’t know how to play football, either, so not knowing how is fucking beside the point. You’re here in school to learn, right? So you’ll learn – the way I did. Resistance, little bro, is futile. You know,” he said, with a strange look on his face, “You were kind of a cute little dude. It’s almost a pity. But there are – compensations – to being a jock, as you’re about to find out, and there are worse things than turning into the kind of guy you’re attracted to. I’m sure you’ll end up pretty hot, but your days of being a cute little geeky dude are over.”

I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me, but oddly, my spinning brain again latched onto only one thing in what he had said, and I sputtered: “Wait, Derek? That mean-looking linebacker dude with a neck wider than his head? He doesn’t even know me. Why would he talk to the basketball coach about me? What’s going on?”

James barked out a laugh, “I’ll have to tell Derek that one. You’ll make his day. But little bro, back to the point, seriously, are you that dense? I told you: you may not have noticed how much you’ve changed, but other people have. Important people. Take it from your guidance counselor, little bro. Later!” And with that, he swaggered off.

“What the? How? Wait, you think I’m turning into a jock or something? I’m not dumb. You must be crazy! Wait!” But he was gone.

I felt kind of nauseous, so I decided to go into the men’s room and take a good hard look at myself, as he’d suggested.

I was determined to be completely honest with myself. The first thing I noticed looking in the mirror is that my clothes looked geeky and awful. No wonder people were looking at me funny. My pants were ridiculously tight and riding a good three inches above my ankles. I looked stuffed into my shirt, too. At least the shirt didn’t ride up like my pants, but what was I thinking dressing like this? None of it came close to fitting. I looked like some dumb jock dressed up as a nerd for Halloween. Wait. Did I really look like a jock?

I looked at myself again and reminded myself to be honest. James was right: I was taller than I remembered. And I had a little muscle in my arms and chest that I didn’t remember, either. But the real shock was my face. How could I have changed that much without noticing? I hardly recognized myself. My brows were heavier, my jaw was firmer, my lips were a bit fuller, and I had a lot of scruffy hair growing on my face. How often did I shave now? Clearly, it was no longer enough. As I stared at my strange face in the mirror, my slightly pouty lips were hanging agape, giving me a distinctly dopey look. Is this really how I looked to other people? I scratched at the fuzz on my cheeks and suddenly felt restless. I needed to go do something, you know, run, jump, hit something, or whatever. I couldn’t just stand still. I left the men’s room and ran down the hall. I was way late for my next class, and no one was in the halls. Still running without realizing where I was going, I found myself down by the locker rooms where the coaches’ offices were.

I stopped then and stood for a minute at a loss, wondering what I was thinking, just coming down there when I should be in class. I was about to head back upstairs when a tall well-built man in athletic clothing started approaching from the other end of the hallway. He was in his middle thirties, or maybe early forties, and very handsome, even though he was old enough to be my dad. When he got close, he said, “Well, this is a surprise! Jeremy, isn’t it? I’m Coach Sanders. I was going to try to catch you later today, but since you’re here, come into my office!”

I followed him without saying a word, as if I’d been struck dumb. Once in his office, the coach had me sit down in a chair facing his desk. “So, Jeremy,” he started. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m the basketball coach, and I like to talk personally with any young man who shows the kind of potential you’re showing right now. I don’t know if you remember our former football coach?” I shook my head, my mouth hanging open like an idiot. “Well, our new coach has a fine program, and the football teams are doing an amazing job finishing up their season. But he’s reaping the benefit of the special training and conditioning regimens the old coach had developed for bringing young men like you to their true potential as athletes.”

I nodded dully as if I understood what he was talking about, but then I said, “Young men like me?” What did he mean by that?

“Yes,” said the coach. “Young men like you that don’t have an athletic background. He did some incredible work with guys like you. For example, I think you know Steve O’Connor? And his boyfriend, James? And James’s friend Tyler. They were all part of his program. And there were others as well.”

“Oh,” I said, “I had no idea those guys hadn’t come from an athletic background, as you put it, Coach. They all seemed like total jocks to me.”

“I’m sure they did, Jeremy, and that’s exactly my point. His work was truly amazing. Just think of it: some of our biggest football stars had never played football before, and now they’re such ‘total jocks’, as you put it, that you had no idea that they hadn’t always been jocks. Steve O’Connor, for example, used to be on the chess team.”

“Excuse me, Coach, but I’m not sure I understand why you’re telling me all this.”

“Because, Jeremy, I wanted to let you know that you have the potential to excel just as much as those young men have. You see, I am very familiar with the old coach’s methods. I assisted him frequently, and I still have a lot of his program materials. Given where you are now, I feel I have the means to help you reach your potential.”

“That sounds really interesting, Coach,” I said, “But I should get back to class. As it is, I’ve already missed half the period.”

“Don’t worry about that, Jeremy. I can excuse you from class. As you said, you’ve missed half the period already, and by the time you get back you might as well have not gone at all. But if you’re willing to give me just a few more minutes of your time, I can show you a bit of what I have in mind for a conditioning program for you. Follow me!”

We left his office and entered the men’s locker room, passing through it into a smaller room with an old couch, a television, and a couple of chairs.

“Now, sit down and make yourself comfortable for a minute, Jeremy,” he said, indicating the couch. “But those clothes of yours, son, they don’t come close to fitting you. You’re way too big for them, and I want you to be comfortable. I’ve got a spare basketball uniform you can wear. I’ll be right back.”

Reddening with embarrassment, I stripped down to the jockstrap, and I put on the basketball shorts and tank top the coach brought me. Both were a bit big on me, but it was a relief after being cramped in such tight clothes.

Once I’d finished changing, he came back in the room and said, “Okay, Jeremy, now that you can relax, there’s a little video I want you to watch. Just sit here, watch the video, and I’ll come back to get you when it’s over.” He queued up the video on the TV, gave me a pair of headphones for the audio, told me to lean back in the couch and relax, then he dimmed the lights and left the room.

I really didn’t expect much from the video, but it was amazing. I remember how exciting it was, and just thinking about it now reminds of how proud it made me feel to be a jock. It’s funny, though, because now I really can’t describe what it was about, something about commitment, drive, and sports, I think. It didn’t seem very long; at least, I don’t remember watching it for very long. But I must have fallen asleep or something, because the next thing I remember was the bell going off. The lights were back on – again – I think, but I was sitting there blinking my eyes and trying to remember where I was. I was in Coach Sanders’s office. The coach was sitting at his desk, and Derek was standing next to him, looking at me curiously.

I said something like, “Oh shit, dude. I mean, Coach, I’m so sorry. I must have zoned out. I’d better get to my next class. I’m so fucking late! Sorry about the language, Coach.” Something about me sounded off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Jeremy, son, snap out of it. That was the final bell. Classes are over. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, Coach, I feel fuh, I feel, uh, effing awesome, actually. All revved up and ready for practice. I didn’t miss practice, did I? Am I forgetting something? You wanted me to watch a video or something?”

“You already watched it, Jeremy.”

“Oh, okay, Coach. Sorry. Yeah, that’s right. I did watch the video. Did I see everything you wanted me to see, then?”

“Yes, you did. You’re doing just fine, Jeremy. You’ll be feeling like yourself again in no time. And don’t worry about your classes. You’re excused for today. But just remember that you need to keep your grades up if you’re going to stay on the team, particularly when you’re doing two sports.”

“Understood, Coach,” I said. “Uh, grades shouldn’t be a problem for me, I think.” At least, they’d never been before. “But, uh, sorry, what two sports was I doing again?”

“Basketball and wrestling, son. Look, I know maybe grades aren’t a problem for you generally, but you know you’re not the brightest kid in school, and you’ll have a lot more, well, distractions in your life right now. Both teams are counting on you. And remember that the weight program and diet I’ve outlined for you are just as important as practice. You have a ton of potential, but to realize that potential, you need to start packing on some serious muscle.”

“Got it, Coach. I know it’ll be a lot of work, but I’m really motivated, and I’m super stoked about your program.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, you’re already suited up for practice, so get out to the gym and start warming up. And remember, we’re hitting the weight room after practice.”

“Sure, Coach. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Okay, get out of here, big guy,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Derek will show you the way. I’ll see you at practice.”

I had to say it was super cool of the coach to take all that time with me personally, especially since I wasn’t a very big guy, at least not yet. I caught my reflection in the mirrors as I went back through the locker room. The basketball uniform fit me well. Of course, it was nothing like my wrestling singlet, which was skin tight and hid absolutely nothing, especially my bulging package. The basketball shorts were loose and hit a bit above my knees. My long, hairy legs were skinnier than I liked, and my upper body was the same, but I could see the beginnings of some pec muscles under the tank top, and deltoids, biceps, and triceps starting to form on my shoulders and arms. I looked rangy, not built, but I’d be packing on muscle soon with Coach’s program. I hadn’t realized how bushy my armpits had gotten, and there were a few fine chest hairs showing above the neck of the tank top. I’m glad I finally got a haircut, though. I look really cool with the high fade. It’s way more practical, especially for wrestling. Most of the other bros keep their hair short, too, although not all of them keep it as short as Derek does with that blond buzz.

Anyway, basketball practice was great, and the other bros on the team are awesome! Everyone seems super chill, and I just fit right in. There are even some gay jocks on the team like me, and they’re all really hot. Steve O’Connor’s one; it’s nice to see someone I already know. Steve introduced me to Zach Davis, who’s one of the gay jocks, and he’s almost as cute as Steve.

After hitting the weight room, I showered and went back to my locker. I guess I’d left a clean outfit in there, but the clothes didn’t look familiar. I didn’t see any underwear, but there was a pair of compression shorts, so I pulled those on, stuffed my package into them, and then put on a T-shirt. The compression shorts felt soft and silky against my cock and balls, although the bulge was a little obscene. The support was almost as good as a jockstrap. I’ve really hit a growth spurt recently, and everything’s gotten bigger, if you know what I mean. The bulge wasn’t so obvious once I put a pair of regular athletic shorts on over the compression shorts. That reminds me; I need to tell Mom and Dad that I need some more jockstraps. My balls have gotten so big and heavy that I really need that extra support, especially for basketball.

When I finally got my phone out of my locker and looked at it, I had a bunch of messages from Chase wondering where I was. I don’t know what his problem was; it should have been obvious: I was at practice. It’s not as if I’d been gone all day. Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with a geek like him anyway. But he is awfully cute for a little dude, and I’m pretty sure he’s into me. Maybe if I went out with him, I could talk him into going out for wrestling. He could certainly stand to pack on some muscle. Anyway, I had other plans for the night. Derek invited me over to his place to watch the game with some of the other bros. His girlfriend Becky was going to be there, and Tyler and his girlfriend Brittney, plus Steve and James. I guess James and Tyler have been best friends forever, and Becky was friends with Steve and James, who had fixed her up with Derek. It’s so cool that the straight bros and gay bros get along so well. Zach was supposed to be there, too. Maybe I’d get to know him a little better.

Anyway, I texted back Chase: “Chill out, bro. Was at bball practice. C U tomorrow @ school. Got plans 2nite.”

Chase sent: “Plans? U OK? Someone got ur phone? Since when u play basketball?”

“Going to Derek’s to watch the game. Tell u bout it 2morrow. Later!” Anyway, I had a great time hanging out with the bros and watching the game. Zach seemed nice, but I wasn’t really into him, and I don’t think he was into me, either. I kept thinking about Chase. He kept blowing up my phone, but I ignored it. I was trying to decide what to do, but it was hard to think; I was so tired after practice and working out. I finally went home and collapsed on the bed. I barely managed to get my clothes off before I fell asleep, and then I dreamt about hot, hairy bros, but all the bros had Chase’s cute little geek face. It made me think how hot Chase would be if he were a jock, too. That woke me up, and then I realized my cock and balls needed some serious attention before I could get back to sleep. When I finally came, my balls must have been really backed up, because I made a huge mess. I had to clean it up the best I could, because I couldn’t exactly get up and change the sheets without waking everyone else up. But I sure felt a lot better. My thoughts calmed way down, and I felt really mellow and chill. I fell right back to sleep.

To be continued...

#jockification #jock tf #nerd to jock #jock transformation #mental change

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rex-shadao · 1 year

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The Lonely End of Belos

Or why Hunter, Caleb, Evelyn, Lilith, Collector, or anyone that Belos personally wronged didn't get to be the witness to his demise.

I admit, I was a bit unsatisfied with Belos' demise. After all the build up with Caleb hallucinations and Grimwalker bones, I thought he would fall into the graveyard pit, see the ghosts, and realizing all too late it's his fault before he melts into a pile of bones.

Prior to that, before Thanks to Them, I speculated on Belos' fate would be him being hunted down by an angry mob of humans led by Jacob Hopkins believing him to be some kind of cryptid monster either threatening the town... or offer a rare opportunity to get rich on the news. And then he falls apart like an animal.

And when Watching and Dreaming trailer hinted at Belos possessing the Titan, I wondered how they were going to defeat Belos without resorting to revenge or poetic irony (since Belos is this big final boss that the heroes would blow up like with the core). I thought perhaps they would turn Belos into a Palisman tree and make him give back all the Palisman he devoured in a twisted form of redemption. Perhaps they'll remind him of his past and start a mental collapse that causes him to lose control of the Titan as he sees images of Caleb. I was pretty sure Caleb would show up just before Belos dies, giving him the realization that he's damned.

But his actual demise... feels empty. He did fall apart as I expected and there's sense of loneliness in his demise, but... no Caleb. No Evelyn. Nothing hinting to his past. Heck, I don't think the name Philip is even brought up once. It feels like we've been cheated out of a cathartic demise, and I spent the hours since the special aired trying to make sense of this choice and why. Why is there no Wittebane lore.

And ultimately, I make this conclusion:

Belos refused to open up about his past. It's quite telling the Collector spilled everything of his Freudian Excuse from being bullied by the Archivists to being wrongfully imprisoned by King's Dad to his desire for friends and being accepted. Him opening up communications of his insecurities allowed Luz, Eda, and King to empathize and help him. To teach him kindness and forgiveness. To teach him the value of life through death. And through their teachings does the Collector become better and ultimately redeemed.

But Belos? We know he had a traumatic past and a lot of insecurities with his brother. We know he's a lot like Luz and the Collector when he was a child. But unlike them, he never opened up about his insecurities. He forcibly molds them into abstract ideas and rules. For the greater good of humanity. For the good of your souls. He always tries to make it non personal, thinking it makes him selfless and pure.

But what he ends up creating is a caricature of himself. A shallow representation of his former human life. The Hollow Mind portraits released this week on Twitter shows tragedy with the happy memories being free of scratches and burns. Those were the original looks. But in the actual episodes, even the happy memories were scarred and burned. As Understanding Willow reveals, if you burn the memory pictures, you essentially erase them from existence. This means that Belos barely remembers his past. Now that I think about it, Belos never actually used the word brother at any point. Just an old friend. At first, I thought he was trying to avoid triggering trauma memories regarding Caleb's murder, but now I wonder... did he actually forget Caleb was his brother?

Because if he did, then it explains why he never seem to make the connection that Eda and Lilith may in fact be the descendants of Evelyn and Caleb. He only remembers Evelyn's first name but can't remember her face or anything that would link her to the Clawthrones.

And then it hits me. Despite being the big main antagonist of the series... Belos has only one personal connection to our main trio: Luz the Human. Eda, he dismisses her as an Owl Lady outlaw who isn't important in the grand scheme of thing. And King, he thinks it's a weird dog demon, not a baby Titan. But Luz, he's obsessed with because A) she would help him learn the Light Glyph and find the Collector and B) she's the first human he has seen in centuries.

Thus, it is Luz that Belos focuses on the most. It's Luz that Belos wants to form an actual connection since Caleb's death. And when you think about those witnessed Belos' demise... Luz is the only one that Belos has any genuine interactions with. Eda, King, and Raine... they were all background pawns or obstacles, not even worth specializing personal grudges towards like he would with Lilith, Hunter, Evelyn, or even Caleb.

So in spirit, Luz is the last lifeline for redemption and forgiveness. And Belos blew it. He was so obessed with Luz due to her human status but he never gave anything about his past to her (Luz only got Belos' backstory from Masha). He assumes that being human alone is sufficient enough for speaking terms. And he choose the best looking human look for her: A non-broken nose Philip Wittebane. Just as how she saw him in Elsewhere and Elsewhen. The ideal adventurer and hero of the 17th century. He evidently forgot that this bearded Phillip destroyed Luz's respect for him. This Philip lied to her and betrayed her and Lilith. This Philip was not the hero Luz envisioned. After all, the Philip she idolized in the diaries was clean shaven. He could have chosen that form... if he actually remembers that.

And then he sloppily try to make himself sound like he's freed from a curse, sloppily using the term dark magic instead of wild magic, and taking great pains to even say that he did horrible things, even under the excuse of a curse. He has no idea on how to make himself relatable when it's all there within him deep down. He just uses the surface-deep level of relatability and Luz doesn't buy it. And the boiling rain melts away that skin deep humanity, revealing a rotting ghoul barely clinging onto life, screaming of how witches are evil and unforgivable as he crawls to Luz. Notably, he still doesn't give a reason as to why he thinks they're all evil. We all know what it likely is, but Belos never confirms it to Luz.

Belos is virtually on autopilot, repeating the mantra of humans are superior and witches are evil. He never speaks about how Caleb was "stolen" from him by a witch. He never speaks about how Gravesfield taught that witches are evil. His memories almost completely erased by his self-inflicted denial, all he can think of is wiping out witches and saving humanity. A caricature of his former self.

And by failing to swayed Luz, he's completely alone. There is no Caleb now. No Evelyn. No Hunter. No Lilith. No Grimwalkers. No Flapjack. Just Luz whose connection he tries to forge is now a shallow parody because of how much he doesn't understand her at all. But she wouldn't kill him since that would give him a known company at his last moment. Instead he meets his end by those that he doesn't even see as personally important beyond pawns. Though they have a lot of personal grudges against the former Emperor and tyrant, Belos only sees strangers at the end of in his long life.

Philip Wittebane is nothing more than a faded memory of a bygone era. He died with his brother Caleb, regulated to just folklore ghost stories told in Halloween of Gravesfield. To some, they may never really exist in the first place since 1613 is a very long time.

The creature that resembles Philip is just Belos and he is little more but a parody of a man, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

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greenerteacups · 5 months

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forever grateful to you for sharing your musings, as if the book writing weren't great enough and hard work enough, you truly spoil us and i love you.

I'm popping in here to ask if you would like to talk about how you see Dumbledore. Sometimes I feel his manipulative side is abused in fanfiction, depicting little more than a heartless chess master.

And well, I guess I'm curious to find out if Lionheart Albus has a heart and will we get to see it. Maybe the more generous glimpses you give us of Snape and his interactions with him will shed some light on his hidden depths? Or will his appearances remain fleeting and enigmatic, always far and above all the little people we do know and adore?

Sorry, I know you can't possibly be completely balanced in your portraying of the whole cast, or they would spread too thin. I am here for the plot, for the Dramione and the Blacks, but I deeply enjoy all the character building (I truly live for all of them, not only our loved ones, I even cherish Warrington with sincere hate and am waiting for his comeuppance ) so I thought I would ask if you wouldn't mind a few comments on our opaque headmaster.

Thank you, friend! You're really kind.

Dumbledore has a relatively minor role in Lionheart for a few reasons — chief among which is, as you point out, that we just don't have time for everybody to get the same level of characterization the mains do. I have plot justifications for that, but it'd be disingenuous to suggest otherwise: Dumbledore's minor because I'm less interested in him than I am in Snape and Narcissa, and Lionheart is much more about Draco's sphere of the world than Harry's. That being said, I think some people forget how small Dumbledore's role is in the original books. He pretty much exists to deliver exposition and tell Harry how to beat the final boss; dude doesn't even get a gesture at a backstory until he's already dead. In fact, it's kinda weird to me that everyone (including a lot of people in the series) treats Dumbledore like he's some kind of guardian for Harry, especially with respect to the decision to keep him at the Dursleys. I know it's set up in the prologue, but if I'm Dumbledore, and I'm catching strays for Vernon Dursley being a piece of shit, I'm gonna be like:

The TLDR on Dumbledore is he's blamed way too much for stuff he doesn't do instead of the stuff he does. People seem to blame him for everything bad that happens to Harry because he's a competent adult in the general vicinity of the kid. But with the possible exception of hiring Lockhart — a bad decision I attribute to Early Installment Weirdness and, just maybe, a certain scarcity of applicants for a position where the last dude Literally Fucking Died — there's not a whole lot of shit that happens to Harry in the first few books Dumbledore could've prevented. Plus, he does in fact have Other Shit to be Doing. Is he a really powerful wizard who probably could've saved Harry's ass in a lot of the fights he gets into? Yes. Does he also have a whole school to run, a secret guerrilla group to direct, a Ministry full of political enemies to placate, and — oh yeah — a snake-faced immortal evil sorcerer he's playing 4D chess with at all times? Yes!

The whole lamb-to-slaughter thing with Harry is admittedly quite dark, but I don't read it as machiavellian. For one, Dumbledore obviously comes to this conclusion after a lot of deliberation, and to his death, he refuses to tell Harry about it, because (one assumes) he never intends to kill Harry himself. He's willing to hinge the fate of the free world on his respect for Harry's autonomy and/or his faith that Harry will make the "right" choice. That's pretty humane, given the circumstances. And he holds off on telling Harry about the horcruxes because... he doesn't want to inform a literal child that he'll eventually have to kill himself for the war effort. Oh, GOD, what a SCHEMING MONSTER. Surely this is motivated by menace, and not the grieving reluctance of a seasoned veteran who wants to preserve whatever few years of happiness this kid can eke out of life.

The areas where Dumbledore is morally shady come out most in his interactions with other adults. His conversation with Severus in 1981, for instance, is the one time in the books where I was legitimately frightened of him, because it's a rare time he's completely without mercy or grace. "What will you give me in return, Severus?" is a character-defining line, because Snape has just told him that two twenty-somethings and their infant child are about to be murdered, and Dumbledore's hit back with the subtextual equivalent of: "Tough shit. Why is it my problem?" Which is COLD AS FUCK! And we can kind of infer that he's not in earnest here, that he's manipulating Severus by making him think Dumbledore won't protect the Potters (even though they're Order members, which this theory requires us to assume Severus doesn't know) so that he can get him to work as a spy — but we don't know that for certain, right? It's all inference. We hope that his implicit threat isn't genuine, but what would happen if Severus said no, and walked away? How much did Albus understand about Snape's feelings for Lily, and what kind of person does it take to bluff like that in front of a known Legilimens? That line is intimidating as fuck whether or not Albus means it.

It's bits like these, where he's talking to people that he actually dislikes, where we get hints of the real Machiavellian Albus Dumbledore, and it's absolutely fascinating. He's the veteran of two wars, going on three when he dies, and you can tell in how he conducts himself. That includes, by the way, his gentility with children and his respect for innocence. But he's not just Good Funny Grandfather Dude or Crafty Mastermind. He's a general. He's been waging wars from the back lines since his twenties. That does something to your brain, and it doesn't leave a lot of you left over for anything else.

#greenteacup asks

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t1gerlilly · 5 months

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I’ve seen a number of posts dismissing discussions of racism in the new storyline out of hand. To the point where I have no idea what the original criticisms were. And I think that’s really unfortunate. Partly because it feels like there’s a part of our community we’re not listening to and partly because I have some questions on the subject and would really like to hear what people are saying about it, but I’m clearly not following the right people.

I think folks forget how important Eddie is as Hispanic rep. Although 25% of the US population is Hispanic, only 3.3% of lead roles in TV are played by Hispanic actors (source) They’re also only 1.6% of showrunners and 1.9% of directors. And they are also under 5% of executive or management roles in media (source). So there is clearly a systemic problem.

But how does that apply to 911? Well - Carlos on lone star is notorious for having the least screen time of any character, despite the fact that his character is the closest to Athena in terms of role. And Eddie? Well, the latest I could find was season five totals - and Eddie and Chim, the non-white or black men, were bottom of the barrel. To really establish a pattern, you’d want more than two shows, but at least across half a decade of shows, the pattern is pretty consistent. I’m not making an argument about the reasons for that, but those are just the numbers. If I were to speculate, I’d assume it was a combination of who the network exec, showrunner, and executive producer was, since they have the power to make decisions. Just coincidentally, their racial identities mirror the screen time of the characters? Hmmmm

So then let’s look at who does press for the show - making themselves more visible…yeah, that’s largely Oliver. And you can say that’s because he’s a POV character- but you might be surprised to learn that in many seasons either Hen or Athena had more screen time than Buck. Yeah. Really. But you NEVER see Aisha put out to do press the way that Oliver is.

Why is that? Is it because she’s a black woman? Because she plays a queer character? And who is making that decision and why? Because that lack of visibility impacts her personal career. Same thing with Ryan Guzman and Kenneth Choi, who both have less screen time AND less press.

But in particular- and this is the rub - Ryan has CLEARLY been making intentional acting choices FOR YEARS to shape his character and his dynamic with Buck as queer. Oliver played into them, thinking of them as natural chemistry- but it’s clear that other creators on the show - notably the directors and writers, picked up on Ryan’s choices and fan reactions to reframe the dynamics and the characters.

And it’s really clear that Tim originally intended to have Eddie come out, but the poor reaction to Natalia and the fact that the actress was unavailable led him to switch the storyline to Buck. All of which is perfectly understandable.

But if there’s one person most responsible for the reason we ultimately got bi!Buck, it’s Ryan Guzman - for the bravery and perseverance of his choices as an artist. It’s amazing to me that in all the praise for Oliver saying that he “would have” leaned into Buck as queer even without the go ahead…no one has thought to praise the actor who actually DID THAT - for YEARS- when he was in a much more precarious position as a character and an actor. Like really take a minute to look at what that took…he was risking his livelihood with that choice.

And then, when the show DOES finally make it canon…who gets the praise? The buzz? The support? The white guy who was mostly oblivious for the past five years. Like…how is THAT fair?

And OK, the original plan was for the helicopter pilot to be Lucy, and that fell through so they reached out to Lou, because Tommy was a former character- but also quite likely because he looks a good deal like Buck - and the SL was supposed to have that character be a stand-in for the other half of Buddie. When they switched to Buck, they had to make Tommy have similar hobbies to Eddie to establish the similarities, since they couldn’t rely on looks.

But that meant they totally whitewashed the story line. And if you want to talk about firsts - when has a Hispanic lead come out as gay or bi? And how many of them were men? And how many were over 21? And on a mainstream show?

And no, it wasn’t intentional (just a function of having so many more white characters than Hispanic characters), but it was unfortunate. Not to mention the intersectionality of it all.

So…I honestly think there’s a decent basis for critique there. Not a “these people are terrible” critique, but a “not paying attention to diversity systemically” in a way that lets unconscious bias have the same impact as deliberate bias.

And I really wonder at the people who just dismissed the entire discussion - how hard did you listen? How willing were you to hear what people were saying? Because this is an issue that has to do with real people, their careers, their hopes, dreams, and identities. And you should be willing to listen.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 discourse #911

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idontwanttospoiltheparty · 6 months

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An (incredibly long) "I want"-style song dedicated to the most unruly of trios: John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison.

The setting is the late 50's – it's deliberately a bit of a mish-mash :-)

Lyrics below the cut!

John: Green

Paul: Blue

George: Purple

P&G: Pink

J&P: Red

JP&G: Neutral

Liverpool gave up on me the first day of preschool

Teachers called me unruly cause I don't suffer fools

And my aunt who says she can't believe I’d throw it all away

Quarrybank, that school for cranks suspended me the other day

All those lads who quit this band to learn a proper trade

Think that I don't understand the facts of getting paid

But you both see,

It's them not me, it's us and this here prophecy

Do you see us five years on – well

Maybe three, that's sort of long

As they're writhing for our songs

And “Your group's on now, John "

Earning some preposterous wage

Free of this less-town-more-cage

As we enter center-stage

In our gold disk age

And the birds will have to queue

For a single peck at you

Then, emboldened by the view

Watch them molt on cue

And all we need is not to quit,

They'll call us Great Britain's

Newest stars, brand new guitars, guaranteed not to split

Picture us: the favourite band

With a record deal in hand

Going deaf from screaming fans

As per my new masterplan

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper)

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I hear music in my head

Wherever I go

It's like it's bursting out my soul

It's something I cannot control

Meanwhile I can't drop this tune

Every night When I get home

I watch dad roll his eyes

"Heard of this thing called a comb? "

I sigh as he implies

That mum would be

So unhappy and so disappointed in me

However inopportune

There's a decade dawning soon

Shooting for the moon

And John may seem unreasonable

But his dream is feasible

Sometimes yes, guess he's a gull

I'll appease him though

And then I see how for we're come

Joined, we're greater than our sum

See, the rhythm's in the strum

Of the guitars and then some

Playing my part in your vision, I'll

Grab a pen, so much to discover

Let's produce another

Lennon-McCartney original

See the day John and me met

And Yes George, I didn't forget!

We become a matching set

Writing tete-a-tete

Where we going, Johnny? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the toppermost)

And where do I fit in?

And when do I come in?

Is there a spot for me at the

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I'm the youngest, there's no day when they let me forget

But the part Paul will not say: I'm their safest bet

See the fact is they don’t practice systematically like me

I know my chord charts, strings, fretboard, parts of my soul, sorted by key.

Still the world is their playground

And I am watching from the fence

I can't yet jump with confidence

But mum taught me about patience

I still feel Julia's arms around me every time I play

What would my mum say? (She tells me)

Anything I set my mind to (She taught me everything)

The heights I'll climb to (She wanted everything)

My time soon

Anything to prove I'm worth it (Wouldn’t approve)

Move the earth, they'll learn…

I had to learn to be the only one believing in me

And ever since she's gone, I can hardly stand it (Mum says I can stand it)

No one understanding (Don’t quite understand it)

The thing she saw in me

And dad, he just wants me to be practical

She’d call me her rebel without applause and tell me

Just keep making noise, always play in your own key

I will wait patiently

He may believe in me but not my choice

They will have no choice but to love me

Where we going fellas? Where we going?

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

Insert band name here.

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming

Liverpool will never be the same

They’ll put up posters of us

Like on this truck

John, that’s a bus!

Put your glasses on, Jesus!

And dad will be non-plussed when

Walking down the street he’ll see John (John), Paul, George (George) of the…

Johnny and the Moondogs… What! Definitely not. The Shoes!

The Quarrymen… Nononononono, JaPaGe3!

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming

Liverpool will never be the same

When they all see us one as three the blasphemous song trinity.

Everybody’s bitching

Where’s that old ambition

That got you essay prizes and into the institute?

I’m not a delinquent

I’ve just been rethinking

No one realizes I’m still just as resolute

Just keep making noise

Always play in your own key

They will have no choice

But to love me

Anything I set my mind to

The heights I’ll climb to

My time soon

Anything to prove I’m worth it

Move the earth

They’ll learn from me.

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

Where we going, Johnny?

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper)

And where do I fit in and when do I come in?

Toppermost of the poppermost.

#the beatles #beatles #you would not believe how much time went into this lmao #or maybe you would #GOOODNESSS #main-tagging this. I've Earned It!#also sry if the colours are fucked up it's tumblr's fault not mine I corrected this twice already #my voice #fiona.docx #fic #friends.jpg

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buggywiththefolkmagic · 1 year

Text

Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: Review

This is: Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: The History, Remedies, and Spells of a Rich Folk Magic Tradition by Auburn Lily

Rating: 2/10

Pros: Some information presented is correct, like the information on “ingredients” isn’t too bad if not a super small amount of them, she mentioned red clay which a lot of books seem to forget exists. And this book’s aesthetics? 10/10 for the illustration work, colors, fonts! I also appreciated the insistence that you help the land as much as possible, as well as the land’s original inhabitants and to give Indigenous voices space.

Cons: There is so much I was so disappointed by. First off let’s get this out of the way: The author in her bio on her own website auburnlily.com claims she is a starseed. I have a LOT of personal feelings about the Starseed movement and how it damages the progress of mental health and getting help and medication for said mental disorders. But this should have been the first major red flag that this book would not be what it says on the cover.

A lot of my problems are as follows:

Most folk workers don’t use the same three or four ingredients…in this case:

Peppermint. Rose. Essential Oils. Crystals, usually citrine or black tourmaline.

Actually we tend to not use crystals at all unless we’ve adapted them into our practice ourselves…the old folk didn’t have pretty rocks to use they got at the New Age store in the town square, alright?

A LOT of this information is definitely tinged in a new age and modern light. The correspondences for the days of the week mentions “The Goddess” which we don’t…deal with??? At all??

Another example:

Grannies used to use the bible and ‘faith healing’ to avoid persecution from their community.

Absolutely not! She mentioned the witch trials a minimum of 6 times, which (ahaha good pun) almost made me roll my eyes into the back of my head, then I read the bible to avoid persecution part and almost burned the book on the spot.

Faith healing is NOT a cop out.

It was the way things WERE. Were there hexers? Yes. Were they given a wide berth sometimes? Also yes. But they also had their place in the community! The hexer in my family, Flossie, was respected with some fear, but she was also the person who scorned lovers and cheated on spouses went to. When the police were hounding moonshiners a few came to her for cop go away works.

The author also insinuates that Yarb Doctors were held in higher regard because they didn’t use faith/and or gender may have had a point in that. I dunno what yarb doctors and grannies she talked to but men were not allowed in the birthing room, that was a Granny’s responsibility and by god they did it well. You never backtalked a Granny, they were and are the backbones of their communities.

Now that I’m off that soapbox, the author also seems to believe that meditation, third eyes, astrology in a modern way, and crystals are critical for Appalachian witchcraft which is stupidly incorrect. Her recipe for floor wash is hogwash and far too simple and small, her candle color correspondences are laughable…especially that little line on Orange: “Helps with menstrual cramps.” If that was the case no straight woman in Tennessee would get cramps because they all wear orange at least once a week for their team.

She only uses Hoodoo like…3 times which is better than most authors so I supposed that’s progress? But the author also hates baneful work and makes mention of that fact numerous times.

The author also has quite a few love spells mentioned, and weirdly enough…a lot of her ingredients in OTHER spells are also the same ingredients in her love spells. How strange.

My final and most damning gripe, the author seems to believe that stereotypes make for amazing offerings to the ancestors. In particular…the Irish would appreciate offerings of potatoes. You have to be kidding me.

Overall: Yet another new age witch trying to make folk magic look far more complicated and fluffy than it is. I hated this so much. I didn't even touch the "Open the healing channel" and "Reparative Visualization" "SPELLS" she includes which sounds like absolute woowoo.

Proof of some of these claims are below:

#buggy's book reviews #witchcraft for beginners #appalachian folk magic #witchblr #Reading garbage so you don't have to!

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5and3nevermind · 5 months

Text

🐱: Jimin, let’s get you shirtless and do a dance just like that.

🐥: I’m on it.

🎬: [cut]

⚠️ 🤡 Speculation ahead:

Ok, I included that moment at the top because I want to start with something positive before we get into this.

I don’t believe in the “2018/2019 break-up” theories. I just don’t see it. And trust me, I’ve looked for it because let’s be honest…you can’t have a break-up without a relationship to begin with, right? In other words, you could argue that it would actually help prove that yoonmin is “real.” Not to mention the fact that many yoonminers see a rift during that time. It’s human nature to want to see what everyone else is seeing. No one likes feeling like “I must be missing something.” But…I have looked and I don’t see it. During that time, we do see some restraint when it comes to their physical affection, but there are enough wonderful moments scattered throughout that time that I just don’t see a break-up. That’s my opinion, and I understand I’m kind of on my own on this. 😉

Now…where I do see some bumps in the road is late 2019 and early 2020. This includes Jimin’s visit to the Shadow set, which clearly didn’t go the way Jimin had hoped and which was still the subject of some debate a couple months later at the MOTS7 purple sweater day. (Sorry, I can never remember the official name of anything.)

The Black Swan contemporary dance reaction video, where that screenshot at the top came from, was released on 200119…in other words, right in the midst of this period.

I see good and bad here. Yoongi says Jimin should do a shirtless dance too. Jimin says that Yoongi’s video (I assume this was a reference to Interlude: Shadow) was amazing.

On the other hand, there were some little bickering moments in this video that don’t quite feel like the “for fun” Tom-and-Jerry bickering that we’re used to.

But enough about that! Rather than dwelling on the negative, what I find incredible is the way we are able to see them repair this problem (whatever it was). Because that’s what people who are extremely close do. With Yoongi and Jimin, we see them making extra efforts to fix things throughout mid 2020. They put in the effort and emotional energy to rectify things. And we see the result of this effort during surgery era when Jimin was so attentive and concerned about Yoongi, and Yoongi in turn was appreciative and outspoken about Jimin’s support.

- at the MOTS7 event, Yoongi mentions that Jimin showed up at the Shadow set and that he appreciated it even though he didn’t express that at the time. Remember, at this point we hadn’t seen the visit yet. So Yoongi isn’t saying this for our benefit. He’s saying it for Jimin.

- radio live in May 2020: Yoongi brings up the fact that Jimin did not show up to the Daechwita set and asks why. They discuss it pretty openly, the fact that Jimin had wanted him to ask. He wanted to be appreciated more fully/openly. 🐱: “Do I have to beg?” 🐥: “Of course!” Bravo to Jimin for being up-front about this and telling Yoongi what he wants. And bravo for Yoongi for listening and then demonstrating that he understood…

- also during that live: Yoongi lists the times in which he’s publicly stated that Jimin is special to him. He also mentions that he originally wrote People for Jimin.

- and let’s not forget Yoongi’s absolutely glowing intro for Jimin that day, and Jimin getting so giggly and telling Yoongi he loves his radio voice.

- during ITS, Yoongi invites Jimin into the trailer to listen to songs he is working on. We know one of those songs was Amygdala, which is very special and personal to Yoongi. We also know this song was for Yoongi’s solo album, not BE. So, Jimin’s role as Music PM was not the reason Yoongi invited him to hear the song.

- also during ITS, we see Yoongi make an effort to spend time with Jimin. They ride together in the car, do woodcarving together, play video games. Yoongi makes an effort to invite Jimin to participate, especially in the gaming.

- Yoongi was very vocal about wanting Jimin to be the music pm for BE, and he praised him more than once for his efforts during the BE promotional period.

- and then sprinkle in a dash of matching shirts during the yoonminjin dance live.

We are talking about real adults in a real relationship/friendship/partnership/whatever you want to call it. There will be challenging spots along the way. That’s an absolute guarantee. What tells me a lot about yoonmin and their bond is that we see a problem and then we get to see them implement a solution. To me, from my perspective as a yoonminer, I think all of this shows that they’re willing to put in the effort to overcome hurdles when they come across them. It also shows a lot of emotional maturity/emotional intelligence on both of their parts.

Sorry I didn’t link to receipts for all of this because I had a lot to say, but feel free to ask if you’d like a source for any of this.

#yoonmin #2020 #i’m rambling #speculation

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alanaartdream · 3 days

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youtube

So most of the time I like to just draw the stuff I like from things I like to help my adhd brain relax before I start heading off to work for the day (but I also like to draw down story ideas as well)

Like to leave fandoms to do their own thing

And fairly odd parents fandom at the moment has some Great ideas and fanart but it’s getting harder and harder not to want to rant as the few who seem to misinterpret Timmy Turner and his relationship with the fairies in fairy world

Heck some seem to forget what crazy rather dangerous dumb neglectful people Timmy’s birth parents happen to be from day one or fact half of dimdales treats kid Timmy quite horrible (( they ignore all the abuse that Timmy gets from

Vicky / cocker and the bully as well as ignoring all the neglect or crazy stuff Timmy’s own birth parents put him through

So while I’m sketching Cosmo and Wanda just started ranting about this

Heck for half of Timmy’s wishes are not all on Timmy

Cosmo kinda fumbles things too but people don’t want to acknowledge this (( I love Cosmo and Wanda but in the original Cosmo caused quite a few troubles)) and other reasons are from the people around Timmy at the time causing Timmy having to wish to fix it

Also if the fairies truly hated Timmy why did they have huge birthday celebrations for Timmy’s birthday hmm? You don’t do that for someone they hate!

Heck they even had a show in fairy world where they’d loved watching his life with Wanda and Cosmo before poof/ peri came into the picture

Heck Timmy managed to save the universe and fairy world and yet SOME peeps like to think Timmy was the worst kid and all those wishes were all his fault and fairies hated him???

Thank goodness this is a fictional character if he was a real kid going through all this and this wasn’t done in a sitcom comedy kind of fashion I’d say Timmy’s birth parents would be the kinda horror monster kinda parents like being as one meer touch and plants die both both of Timmy’s birth parents; heck before they had Timmy they ran a ghost hunting as well as alien hunting jobs but being as their way of getting the ghosts/ aliens was to blow up the house/ ghost or alien so of course everyone hated them for that & tried to run them out of town ( they ended up having to move from one part of dimsdale to the other side and had to change their names (apparently dad’s name was mum and mum’s name was Barnbie before they had their names change to just dad and mum like they literally choose to be called mum & dad by everyone before they even had Timmy;; it’s no wonder so many adults didn’t want to be their friends when Timmy had to wish for Wanda & Cosmo to be adult friends for his parents And then when they wanted to spend time with Timmy again instead of saying oh sorry we’re just gonna cut this dinner short we need to spend some time with our child* they go and behave like jerks to Wanda and Cosmo to the point Wanda was starting to look up Da Rules if it was ok to kill your godchild’s parents))

I’m soo surprised no one’s done horror versions of Timmy’s birth parents yet because they fit the bill

Anyway sorry for ranting about this just I feel like many seem to forget these things about Timmy’s life because the show was done in a sitcom comedy fashion so people miss the horror parts about it

#fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents #fairly odd parents timmy turner #fairly odd parents timmy #fairly odd parents peri #fairly odd parents fanart #fairly odd parents #fairly odd parents Wanda #fairly odd parents Cosmo #my drawings #my artwork #my art #my sketches #chibi cartoon #Youtube

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coffeebanana · 10 months

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Hello hello! I had the pleasure of remixing things we never said by @jennagrinsoverml for the @mlsquaredance event!! The original is such delicious PRPR and if you haven't already, you should all check it out immediately!!

You can read the remix on Ao3 or under the cut. It's Ladynoir flavoured oh-shit-we-lost-our-single-shared-brain-cell-what-do-we-do-now?!

...

All About You

Summary:

Chat Noir was enjoying a perfectly pleasant rooftop picnic/movie night/oh-so-platonic date with Ladybug—until she decided to question his feelings out of nowhere. (What does she mean, when he used to be in love with her?!) It turns out they have some things to talk about.

...

“Remember when you used to think you were in love with me?”

The question barely registers at first—and it’s not because the movie projecting from Ladybug’s yo-yo onto a nearby chimney is that good. In fact, Chat Noir doesn’t even know the protagonist’s name.

All of his attention is taken up by Ladybug. By the way she sits in his lap and giggles at the film.

(Well, she was giggling. Now he realizes she’s been silent for a suspiciously long time, and he’s a little worried it’s because she noticed him sniffing her hair.

In retrospect, he’s probably had enough wine.)

He carefully sets aside the plastic cup they’ve been sharing—they’ve learned the hard way that thin-stemmed wine glasses and rooftops don’t mix—and forces his mind to properly compile the beautiful sounds that spilled from her mouth.

Somehow they make even less sense once he’s managed to decipher them.

“When I used to what?”

She scoffs. “So you’re going to pretend you didn’t used to profess your love for me three times a week?”

An icy feeling trickles through him—one he can’t quite name, but definitely doesn’t want to contemplate. He wants her to go back to watching the movie. Maybe he’ll even pay attention this time.

But when he glances back at the chimney, the credits are already flickering.

“I never said that,” he mumbles uselessly.

Ladybug gives an indignant Hmph! and starts struggling to escape from his lap. He helps her stand—hands easily steadying her thighs when she wobbles.

(She always forgets that the wine goes right to her head.

But he always remembers. He’s always there to catch her.)

After years of loving Ladybug loudly, Chat has learned the hard way—a few too many times—that he’d only lose her if he kept on like that. He’s learned to love her quietly—to be the one she depends on, to accept whatever she gives.

It’s worth it, so long as he gets to keep her in his life.

But pretend is a rather cruel word to explain the way he’s forced to constantly to shove his feelings aside every time they’re together. The way he has to ignore how his heart speeds up every time their eyes lock or their hands brush or he just remembers she exists.

“You’re not being fair,” he says. “Just because the way I feel is…inconvenient to you doesn’t make it any less real.”

Her back is turned as she kneels down to clean up their snacks—rather forcefully slapping the lid back on the spinach dip she brought—but he can hear her breath hitch. “I know that! Don’t you think I know that?!”

“Well, then—” He breaks off, wondering why he’s yelling. “Good,” he finishes lamely. “I guess we’re on the same page.”

“I guess we are,” she huffs, which only confuses him more.

(Never mind pages. He’s not even sure they’re in the same book.)

Chat climbs to his feet, dragging the blanket they’d been sitting on with him. He whips the quilt angrily in the wind, like maybe while he’s shaking off the crumbs he can also shake off how much this hurts.

It doesn’t help. If anything, the lump in his throat only grows larger as he watches Ladybug shove containers haphazardly into the picnic basket that had been so carefully arranged when she’d shown up. The fabric inside is dotted with pink hearts—which are now getting slammed around nearly as much as his heart—and it’s that tiny detail that reminds him of everything he has to lose.

(It took years to get to know Ladybug half as well as he wants to. No matter how in sync they are in battle or how well they complete each other’s jokes, Chat’s always been all too aware of the things she can’t—no, that she won’t—tell him. Surely in a city of two million, he won’t figure out who she is by learning what she studies in school.

But the hearts that line her picnic basket? Those are a memory of something she has shared with him—after laughing herself silly over his story of a recent wardrobe malfunction.

“You don’t know how to sew on a button?” she’d asked after finally catching her breath. He’d shaken his head, and she’d gone back to laughing some more.

The next time they met for patrol, she taught him how to thread a needle. He learned to stitch buttons onto scraps of fabric, poking his needle through tiny pink hearts.)

Chat takes a deep breath. No matter what she thinks, Ladybug means the world to him—and he’s fairly sure she always will. So he ignores the suffocating anger that bubbles in his chest, and he fights back the tears as he carefully aligns two corners of the blanket.

Two more folds and he’s calm enough to speak. “Ladybug…”

She ignores him, squeezing a bag of chips so hard that the bottom pops open. Its contents spill onto the roof, ready to be crushed like Chat’s spirits.

“Ladybug,” he tries again. “Please. At least tell me what I did wrong.”

That makes her feeze, fingers grazing the edge of the plastic cup he’d set aside before. It tumbles over, wine spilling across the rooftop. Her hand curls angrily around a stack of napkins. “Nothing,” she snaps. “You haven’t done a thing.”

“Well, then—”

“At all! Even after months of all this.” She waves an arm around wildly—at the disaster of wine-soaked chips and the overflowing picnic basket. “I don’t know how more obvious I could have been, and nothing.”

“And you’re…mad at me for that?”

Ladybug responds with a growl—or maybe a screech—of frustration. “No. No, I’m not mad.”

Chat knows better than to point out that her tone belies her words.

He still has no idea what she’s talking about, though he’s starting to get the sense that maybe it has something to do with how frequently they’ve been hanging out these past few months—usually at her suggestion. Perhaps she’s frustrated he hasn’t taken more initiative in helping to organize their hangouts? He’d assumed she enjoyed taking the lead—she always seemed excited to hear his opinion on all of her ideas—but it must be lots of work.

“Do you want me to bring the food next time?” he asks, kneeling down behind her. He contemplates setting a hand on her shoulder, but decides on clutching the blanket to his chest instead. “Is that it?”

Ladybug whirls around, her eyes narrowed in a way that makes him shrink back. But when they lock eyes, her entire face wilts. “You really don’t know, do you?” Her lower lip trembles. “You just don’t think of me that way at all anymore, so…it never occurred to you, what I was trying to do.”

“I guess…not? But I’d really like to understand.” He sends a hesitant smile her way. It doesn’t seem to land.

She sits back on her heels, staring at her fingers as she tugs on them. “God, I’m so stupid.”

Chat feels a twinge in his chest. “Hey, no. Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true!”

“No.” He barely notices when the blanket slips from his arms; he’s already moving to sit beside her. “Never.”

She shakes her head adamantly, hiding her face in her hands. When Chat sneaks an arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer, she resists at first. But he gives another gentle tug and she all but melts into his side. He rubs her back slowly as she lets out a sob.

Her cries tug on his heartstrings, but some part of him can only feel relief—that she doesn’t hate him, and that she’s back in his arms. He leans his cheek atop her head, relishing the way her arms tighten around his waist.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she sniffles eventually.

He bites his tongue before a reflexive “it’s okay” can slip out. Instead, he keeps on rubbing her back, stomach swooping when she relaxes further against him.

“I wasn’t even mad at you, I was just—I’m so mad at myself. Because it took me too long to realize what I wanted. How I felt. So, of course you’d moved on by then. And—”

Moved on?!

“—it’s really not your fault! You never did anything to lead me on or anything.”

Chat is starting to feel a little led on. There’s no way her words mean what he wants them to.

“I mean, you don’t even call me your lady anymore!”

He…doesn’t? He knows he cut back at some point—he’s never wanted her to feel uncomfortable—but he never intended to stop.

“I’ve been so completely delusional.”

“Ladybu—I mean, my lady, I think there may have been a misunder—”

“And now you’re going to hate me, and I’ll never get you to fall back in love with me, and Shadow Moth will win, and I’ll die alone, and…”

She keeps rambling on, but Chat’s lost the ability to follow. Maybe because his heart skipped a few beats too many.

He notices when she stops talking though—mostly because she pulls away and fixes him with her wide, worried, beautiful eyes.

“Chaton? Please say something.”

His mouth flops open and closed a few times—not unlike a fish—until he finally remembers how to make sounds. “I…can’t fall back in love with you.”

“O-oh.” She turns away, wiping her eyes. “I understand.”

“Hold on. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that—”

“No, no, no. It’s fine, really.”

She tries to stand, and Chat’s heart plummets. How can he have screwed things up again?

But this time, it seems like the universe is on his side.

(She always forgets that the wine goes right to her head.

He’s always there to catch her.)

This time, instead of steadying her, he pulls her back into his lap. Her head falls back against his shoulder with a dejected squeak.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

Heart racing, he trails his hands down her arms. “I’m not.” A giddy smile sneaks onto his face. “You want me to be in love with you.”

She groans. “Look, you don’t have to make fun of me.”

A short laugh slips from his lips. He can’t help it. “That’s the last thing I’d want to do right now.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously! My lady, I…” He takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair. But he can’t think of a good reason as to why he should hold back, so he catches the ribbon on her ponytail and carefully picks at the knot. “The only reason I can’t fall back in love with you is that I never stopped loving you to begin with.”

She whips around to stare at him, hair falling loose around her shoulders. “B-but you changed! You stopped flirting when we started having date—I mean, completely platonic hangouts."

“Well, I didn’t want you to think our friendship wasn’t enough for me. Just spending more time with you meant so much, and…I was afraid I’d mess that up. In the past, I was always too much for you, so…”

Chat’s not sure which of them moves first, but suddenly their fingers lace together.

“You were never too much,” she says. “I just… I wasn’t ready.”

“And now…you are?”

“Now…” She hums softly and leans closer; her breath lands hot on his chin.

It would be so easy—just a slight tilt of his head—to have everything he’s ever wanted. She’s already closing her eyes, ready to answer his question with her lips instead of her words. Except…

“Wasn’t there some other guy?”

Chat wants to pinch himself as soon as the words slip out. Why would he bring that up now? Why tempt fate when he might finally have a chance?

But if this is finally happening, he needs to know it’s real.

Ladybug leans away. “I did. And maybe, in some ways, I still do. I mean, he’s still my friend and all, so—wait! No, this isn’t how I practiced this at all. This has nothing to do with Ad—him. It’s about you.” She pokes him in the chest, a shy smile creeping across her cheeks as her eyes drifted up to meet his. “It’s all about you.”

The breathy way those words tumble out do something to his insides. He’s tempted to ask her to repeat them, but he still has enough functioning brain cells to bite his tongue. Barely.

“What’s all about me?” he asks instead—which really isn’t much better.

Her head dips down, and he thinks he’s ruined the moment until her hand starts sliding slowly up his chest. “Everything. All the time.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know! One day…I just realized you’re the first person I think about when I wake up. And you’re the person I wish I could have beside me when I fall asleep. And—”

He cuts her off with a kiss. It’s on her temple, the only spot he can reach from this angle, but it’s enough to render her speechless. Her head snaps up. Their eyes meet. And Chat has only a split second to appreciate the freckles dotting her cheeks before he’s wondering how her lip gloss can taste like chocolate. And then he’s not wondering anything at all.

There’s no room for questions when she’s the answer to everything.

“Wow,” she whispers when they finally pull apart. Then she claps a hand over her mouth like she’s horrified she said that out loud.

Chat feels giddy. He feels stupid.

Later, he’ll blame the lack of oxygen for his next words.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Remember when you used to think I wasn’t in love with you?”

Ladybug smacks him on the shoulder. Then she kisses him again.

...

Thanks for reading!! 💜

#miraculous square dance 2023 #coffeebanana fics #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #miscommunication trope #mutual pining #long post

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hollowwrites · 1 year

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Garreth Headcanons

GARRETH ERA. I love him so much. I blame him entirely for me slowing down on my Ominis content

Maeve is my HufflePuff MC and who I ship with Garreth the most.

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

General HCs

I love love love the idea of Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth.

Sebastian and Garreth are different sides of the same coin and would 100% encourage each others shit. Sebastian would always be eager to try his brews and Ominis would be left to pick up the pieces.

I think originally Garreth hated Ominis. He’d grown up hearing about the Gaunts and what they’re like so when he starts school with one he’s initially quite scared of him. Eventually, Garreth confronts him and realised that they’re both soft bois.

Garreth would 10000% slip Ominis potions when Sharp wasn’t looking so he could pass class.

Also why I think him and Anne are perfect. We know she likes Potions so much she’s continued brewing at home because of her Potions set in the Sallow Household. He would’ve also spent a lot of time with her hanging out with the bois.

Perhaps he knows about the Undercroft(?) haven’t made my mind up about that but if he did Anne showed him. Probably why Ominis forgives Sebastian for showing MC so quickly because he forgave Anne.

Has a way with faculty like Ominis cause he can just go to his Aunt. The only downside is she will scold him to get him out of trouble and will sulk for the rest of the day. Sebastian is practically untouchable with the combo of Ominis and Garreth

Player Quidditch in third year as a beater but never really cared for it. His mother bought bigger sizes in all his gear because she expected him to continue through till seventh year. Wanted to save money but he ended up giving it all to Maeve so wasn’t really a waste.

He’s an inch taller than Sebastian, Does Not Let Him Forget It. I do think he’s the most muscular of the bois. Some of those cauldrons are huge…he’s bound to have built some sort of build from hurling them around.

Favourite Subject: Obviously Potions…Him and Sharp have an interesting relationship. Sharp knows he’s intelligent and is messing up on purpose for a laugh. Can’t scold him because although the walls are covered in Liquid Luck it is correctly brewed…has to remind himself not to laugh in class when Garreth pulls obscene stunts…A reluctant 10 points to Gryffindor

When he looks into the Mirror of Erised he sees himself looking back but covered soot. His apron is filthy, he’s missing a finger but he still has that sparkle of mischief in his eye, despite being much much older.

I’ve already spoke about his Boggart but I think he might have two(?) depending on how he’s feeling. His first is being a disappointment that I talk about here but I also think his other is being alone. I don’t know there’s something about the fact we don’t see him with anyone in game and everyone walking away from him in the Common Room after offering his brew makes me think he’s lonely. He has the Slytherin bois but no one in Gryffindor.

Family

Maybe it’s because I did a CharacterAI where Garreth said he didn’t like his mother but I don’t think they have a good relationship. She loves him to bits but he always just feels like a little bit of a disappointment. Could be because his Aunt tell the family everything he does so his brother and sisters tease him whenever he’s home, and he feels like they just mock him when he’s not there. Explains my Boggart HC

Speaking of, I think he has a much older brother and twin baby sisters. Our boi is classic middle child

His older brother (Garrett) and him don’t get on. Much like Percy, he’s a stuffy know it all and, most importantly, doesn’t enjoy potions. Thinks they’re a waste of time. Initially, Garreth took an interest in potions to spite him but found he really enjoyed it.

His mother calls him Garrett on occasion and it doesn’t help with the comparison and feeling of inadequacy.

He’s very protective of his twin sisters (Gracie and Gloria) . He leaves Hogwarts as they start and he takes a job at JPippins just to be close to the school and keep an eye on them.

Him and his Aunt actually have a very good relationship. She lets him get away with a lot more than he lets on. That little ‘Ugh’ in the Potions Class is so forced please…

Patronus

I found his patronus to be the hardest to pin down so here goes:

Hyena - Okay I won’t lie I just chose this because they laugh and he’s a goofy boi BUT I was doing research and it’s PERFECT. Theyre, apparently, Witty, Courageous and Clever with strong family ties. Despite what I say about his family I still think he cares for them and he’s a Weasley he’ll have a huge family I just know it

Fox - Going into my theory that he’s lonely, foxes are solitary creatures that have been known to have rather silly personality traits. Also ginger…

Golden Retriever - …I don’t need to explain this. At all. Big Golden Retriever energy. Still clever but a total dumb dumb that everyone loves.

How he summons a Patronus is equally difficult for me:

First I imagine is when he successfully brews a Wiggenweld for the first time. He’d earned a detention earlier in the day and he’s sat with Sharp scrubbing the Cauldrons. Eventually Sharp re teaches him the lesson in an attempt to scold him but he does it perfectly. Sharp ends up getting uncharacteristically hype for him and it’s the first time Garreth feels like he’s actually good at the thing he loves doing.

I hate making these things revolve around MC like we’re the centre of the Universe but I think his second would be when he takes our character to Hogsmeade. He loved just her awe and delight at everything in the Wizarding World and he felt an overwhelming pride that he was the one who showed it to her.

Nicknames

Already spoke about how he would never call anyone by their name here but these are specific for Maeve and Anne:

For Maeve

Mae, V, Maevey, Maevinchi, any variant of her name you can think of…he’s said it

He also refers to her as his Partner in Crime

As a more term of endearment type thing he’s the only one who can get away with calling anyone baby…mainly because everything he says is a joke so he can get away with it. Also Maevey Baby is so cute I die…

I have a fondness for Princess just because Maeve is so un-princess like it’s perfect.

But he’s just such a goofball he can say anything. Plus his voice helps even the most disgusting of nicknames sound acceptable…

“How are doing today, Pumpkin?”

“I like watching you squirm, Princess”

For Anne

Anything to annoy Sebastian. His favourite is ‘The better Sallow’, ‘My favourite Sallow’ etc

I think Trouble suits her really well for the same reason as Princess suits Maeve. Cause let’s face it Anne is definitely the calmer of the two.

“Well, Well, Well, if it isn’t My Favourite Sallow…And Sebastian”

Relationshipy Stuff

He’s so touchy it gets them in trouble a lot. Just in the hallways or in class if he sees her…he’s touching her.

Not a big hand holder, prefers to either loop his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist or he’ll just pick her up and carry her around everywhere.

Loves a piggyback ride or throwing her over his shoulder. Light smacks to her backside as they’re walking. He loves the little squeaky laughs she makes.

He’ll defiantly want kids. He’s been around them his whole life with his own sisters and cousins etc. and he’s so good with them too. I don’t think his family will be as big as typical Weasley families maybe just two or three kids.

🔞 NSFW Headcanons 🔞

The most disgusting of the three, will do literally anything with her.

Choking, Spanking, Dominiating, being dominated, just likes being with her

Likes doing things semi publicly.

Already said he’s touchy but in the worst way. Your in the library? His hand is up her skirt. Quidditch game? He’s pressing himself into her back and copping a feel. But he’ll only do it if there’s no one around because he’s really possessive. Doesn’t actually want anyone to see anything.

Gets a scolded for it and plays dumb with a dark look in his eye.

“I’m not doing anything, Sweetheart”

He’s an ass man so loves doggy. So naturally loves spanking.

Loves that Maeve looks so innocent and will let him do whatever.

She really plays into it. Looking at him with big brown eyes and acting like butter wouldn’t melt. Drives him insane.

Play fights turning saucy

Absolutely the most dominant of the three. He gets away with because he’s just so sweet outside of the bedroom.

Demands things and just watches:

“I’m busy, play with yourself for me”

“I can’t let you finish yet, my love”

“Why don’t you taste yourself on me, baby?”

Masterlist

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oneatlatime · 1 year

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Return to Omashu

Fire nation priorities. Yes, there's a war to win, but first! We must make our colonies aesthetically consistent. Couple of gates, some gold trim, and some spiky bits! Can't forget the gold spiky bits!

Fulfilling the beat up Sokka quota this episode is raw sewage.

That sewer trek must have been long. They went in during the day and it's night now.

I spoke too soon! The quota is in fact filled by tribbles.

"it's so awful I'm dying." I get the feeling that Sokka has been waiting years to use that line. I love how quickly everyone in the Gaang supports each others' spontaneous plans. It's a sign of a good team if you can ream off fake names without blinking and fake the plague without being asked. They all work so well together. Zuko could take some lessons from these guys on lying.

Well this episode's going to land differently post-Covid.

Looks like Zuko Jr.'s going to be in this episode. Bummer. Although tweedledee and tweedledum are intriguing. Who'd ever think to give a teenage girl villain a pair of eighty year old poetry twins? One of the great things so far about this show is how they consistently choose to go with the most out-there option and always make it work. In a show about defeating the firelord, they chose to kill the moon for the finale. And it worked. The plot point, not the killing.

So I'm thinking that orange and yellow must be an acknowledged fashion choice among the four nations outside of an airbending context, because of the number of times fire nation guards have looked right at Aang and not seen him. Also I think his tattoos must have selective invisibility.

It's a crying shame that Hot Topic doesn't exist in the Avatar universe, because this May girl just passed their employment interview with flying colours. I'm siding with what I'm guessing is her mom on this one. Just chill for a bit.

Ok maybe don't chill for a bit. Yeah my bad. This is not a good time to chill.

Reusing the same Naruto run shot literally two seconds later.

How many projectiles can you fit in one pair of sleeves? She's got a whole armoury up there.

Seriously I know she's bored and all but no teenage girl should have access to that many weapons. If I'd had access to an armoury when I was a teenager, people absolutely would have died.

So cute. I'll take 12 please.

Every sentence that Zuko Jr. is saying to this pink girl is some kind of veiled insult or threat. I'd adopt Pink Girl's wilful obliviousness too if I had to deal with that.

Smart Bumi. He knows his people and his element. We've seen more than enough times already that something about being an earthbender makes you too stubborn to quit and unable to change plans even when your original plan is obviously not working (looking at you, Fong). So, knowing that his people are unable to change course, he prevents them from entering on to that course in the first place.

And Aang picks up on this too! Actually, since Bumi knew Aang growing up, do you think he picked up the concept of strategic retreat from airbending?

Tribbles to the rescue! Given that these are sewer dwelling creatures, this fake plague might turn real.

I love how casual Sokka is about touching other people.

Every street in Omashu seems to have a couple of bundles of twigs propped up against a wall somewhere. It's probably an animation trick to fill up the background.

Love the one guy really committing to the bit who just flops on the ground.

"Pentapox! I'm pretty sure I've heard of that." Humans are so suggestible.

I love that Flopsy remembers him. Aang's propensity to make friends wherever he goes paying off again. Also, exactly how much metal to the fire nation have access to? They're doing the floor, walls, ceilings, of the whole city. There must be some crazy budget surpluses that need using up.

This baby has an absurd throwing arm.

Machine gun Momo!

This is what happens when you don't feed your lemur AANG.

I know cartoon physics is a thing, but can this baby secretly fly or something?

Poor Momo didn't ask for any of this. Guy just wanted some berries. Now he's getting his tail pulled and bitten (hopefully no teeth yet).

Add absurd grip strength to this baby's list of other superhuman characteristics.

Baby apparently weighs quite a bit too.

Flying lemur unintentionally kidnaps baby. Did not see that coming.

Tiny nitpick: the circus master introduces Zuko jr. as "the firelord's daughter" rather than as Princess Zuko jr. Does she not have a title?

Nope. He's calling her princess now. Maybe there are a bunch of princesses in the fire nation and he was just being specific?

Thus begins the bullying of pink girl. Imagine going to school with a bunch of fire nation noble girls? There must have been casualties.

I love Sokka so much. Expert hug administrator.

"everything so clever. So tricky." Actually the avatar forgot to feed his lemur and it kind of snowballed from there. Hands down one of my favourite tropes is when one side in a conflict assumes their enemies are master manipulators, then we learn that actually they're just failing upwards through shenanigans. Love that.

Poor pink girl. The only viable strategy, both for her own safety and the safety of the whole circus, is appeasement.

"The universe is giving me strong hints that it's time for a career change." No blame cast, no fingers pointed, but also not giving Zuko jr. credit for influencing her. That's some fancy talking.

And now they're reusing the campsite shot too?

Poor Momo. That's about the face I make around babies.

I spoke too soon again. This episode's beat up Sokka quota is actually fulfilled by Katara's backhand. Because apparently it's a cardinal sin to prevent a baby from chewing on a potentially bladed weapon? Priorities girl.

Well that accidental kidnapping had some unintended positive consequences. Don't you love it when problems fix themselves?

She even paints her nails black and wears fingerless gloves. Seriously. Hot Topic. STAT.

"Well, Asula called a little louder." Hell of a lot of information in that sentence.

How long is her neck?

Ego much?

Zhao was an asshole and unpleasant, but at least he had some good banter. Zuko jr. is just mean. I hope I see less of her going forward.

Bumi! Hi Bumi! I love Bumi.

Pink girl's loyalty was tested with burning nets and released beasts. Now May's loyalty is tested with her brother's life. Zuko jr. is so good to her friends.

Why is no one able to recognise Aang? He's dressed like an airbender. The only one of those left is the avatar. It's not that hard.

Pink girl is lucky that Sokka is quite prone to friction.

More wood bundles. I guess it's for scaffolding?

Gotta give it to Zuko jr., she has excellent balance.

May has leg knives as well as arm knives?

And shirt knives. How does she not stab herself every time she sits down? And if this place is so boring, why does she feel the need to carry 8 billion knives?

Love the Appa tail slap. Underrated and underused move.

So Bumi has no spine left.

Facebending. Neat.

Neutral Jing is a neat concept, but I'll be damned if any earthbender we've seen apart from Bumi ever bothers with it.

Suddenly the 100 year gap between Aang and Bumi can no longer be ignored. Bumi is still Aang's friend, but he's got a century of learning and a city to protect. This is kind of a sad moment.

Do May and Zuko have some history? Is that's what's being implied here?

Wouldn't expect any less. I wonder how these two are going to explain the return of their son without painting the resistance in a really good light.

Zuko jr. is spelled with a Z.

Final Thoughts

Zuko Jr. gets a girl squad, the Gaang gets a reason to spend a season gallivanting all over the Earth Kingdom, and the audience gets to see Superslide part 2. A weird mix of establishing groundwork and having fun this episode.

I totally buy that the fire nation guards and governor fell for the plague thing. Anyone remember "that lemur! He's earthbending!" These guys are not smart.

The plague thing did not bother me at all. I thought it would, since the anti-science idiots in the Fortuneteller really annoyed me. I think since the fake plague was treated as a joke the whole way through, and never actually endangered anyone, it didn't bring up Covid memories.

I think Flopsy's pupils are sideways hourglasses, which contributes nicely to his uncanniness.

I think the stuffy that the baby was throwing is the same animal as the beaver bear thing at the circus.

I love Momo the machine gun. I think those are the same berries as the ones Iroh was going to double poison himself with.

Sokka getting to plan the plague and getting to save the day with boomerang was fun. That's two episodes in a row where he's been the plan guy. Katara got to use some of her new and improved waterbending as well, but she was really pushed to the background otherwise.

I think pink Girl, whose name I still haven't caught, is quite good at reading people. I caught more than one 'shallow-on-the-surface-but-actually-way-deep' statement from her. Also she can Vulcan pinch people's bending? I'm guessing it's temporary or else Katara would be really freaking out.

May was just too much. Too overdone. Yes, there are teenage girls like that, but it felt a bit on the nose. Actually, way too much on the nose. I get that she can't show any emotion in front of Zuko jr. for her own safety, but "can I offer you an egg fireflakes in this trying time?" is not exactly an appropriate response to your little brother's disappearance.

I'm still not liking Zuko jr. But I'm someone who never likes the villain anyway, at least not when our heroes are this likeable.

This episode was not easy on Aang. It was an interesting mix of bringing home the reality of the war and the reality of the time passed. Even when he seemingly got to save his friend in the end, he actually didn't because things are more complicated now. He untied the damsel from the railroad track and she tied herself right back on.

Further evidence for my 'entire fire nation is colourblind' theory this episode. Aang was not disguised apart from a hat made from a very incriminating colour. He had a giant blue stripe down the back of his head! Come on!

No Zuko this episode. He was last seen stealing a perfectly nice lady's bird horse, and it'll be a while before I forgive him for that, so good call by the writers to not have him around.

Now that I think about it, there was a lot going on this episode. Sewer break & enter, assassination attempt, fake plague, hostage exchange, water v. knife fight, fire v. air fight, vulcan pinch v. bending fight, Boomerang & bison v. knife fight, earthbending philosophy, girl squad assembly, lemur harassment, and baby restoration. This episode felt long in a good way.

How about, instead of learning the elements, Aang learns pink girl's vulcan pinch and just does that to the fire lord?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #return to omashu #avatar the last airbender

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lej222 · 1 year

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ASLFUA ending theory

I’ve recently re-read this webtoon, along with the Korean raws, so there will be SPOILERS for those who are not up-to-date with it. I will also compare it the the Korean drama, 25 21, so if someone hasn’t watched it, please skip those sections. Thank you. :)

So, let’s start off by clarifying that I love After School Lessons for Unripe Apples. I adore the relationship between Cheol and Miae, and I love them both as characters. I need to address this here, because otherwise some might think this is a hate post. It is not. What I will conclude at the end of my post is my interpretation of how the story will end, and it is an objective conclusion, not my subjective feelings. Please understand before accusing me of favoring certain characters over others.

This webtoon is very similar to the Korean hit-drama, 25 21 in many ways. They are both set in the same time period, they are about youth and friendship, and are centered around a boy and a girl and their blossoming relationship. The girl is positive about life, full of energy with an eccentric personality, while the boy is more cautious because of his own bad experiences in the past, and he starts to see the beauty of life again and be more himself after meeting the girl. Of course, these similarities are coincidental as we know that Unripe Apples was published before 25 21. At the beginning of 25 21, we get to know that the main characters are no longer together in the future. Despite hoping that the narrative will keep them together, we have to resign to the fact that the show will be about their youth and they will eventually get separated. Let’s not talk about how that happened, because the execution was quite clumsy, but the main idea is the following: two young people meet when they need each other the most at a certain point in their lives - they develop a friendship which later becomes romantic love - life and circumstances force them apart, and the love they shared will only be a memory while they experience new things. Now, let’s look at what we know about Aslfua:

In the second chapter of the webtoon, we are told that Cheol is someone Miae will never forget. This message is reinforced again in chapter 4, when they end up being in the same class. This leaves the readers wondering: why is the wording like this? In fact, the meaning is the same in the original Korean text. If Miae and Cheol get married one day, why are we told that she would never forget him? Because, if the foreshadowing is intentional, Miae and Cheol will one day part ways. I know that it is hard to imagine for us readers, who watch their story unfold in front of our very eyes, but this is a very likely outcome. From the very beginning, Cheol is introduced in every way as Miae’s first love. Miae often compares their moments together to the comic she reads, My First Love Next Door Is Number One. The comic is a blatant symbol of their relationship- they live next door, the main character is like Cheol, and he is the first love of the girl. The narrative keeps emphasizing when something significant happens, that Cheol and Miae are 16 years old, with sentences like “this is the age when everything is embarrassing”. It’s not a coincidence in my opinion that the emphasis is always there. Because it keeps us not forgetting that this is a certain period in their lives, which will one day pass. But if they do not end up together, you may ask, what was the point?

Well, in my opinion, the story has always been about Miae and Cheol helping each other, while the romance has been secondary. Cheol meets Miae at the lowest point in his life. For him, meeting her is more than a romantic relationshp, meeting Miae is a start of a significant turn in his life. Cheol becomes friendlier, more expressive and acts more like a young boy. Miae, on the other hand, learns to be more responsible when she is with Cheol, and he helps her out many times. The time that they spend together might be short for all we know, but it is truly something they will never forget. Interesting that the author has drawn them together in high school, wouldn’t that be a spoiler at this point? Well, it wouldn’t if they do not go to the same high school, in this case it would be a what if scenario. There are also a lot of illustrations on her social media, but they are not strictly romantic. This leads me believe that while Cheol and Miae will indeed fall in love with each other, it will be just a short period of their lives. Yes, heartbreaking, but very realistic if you ask me (as an adult, I’m speaking from experience).

So, here comes the more controversial part. If Cheol and Miae do not end up together, what about the other characters? It’s a very interesting question. Because, for a long time, the webtoon did not have a clear second male lead. Second male leads are usually introduced only for the sake of creating drama between the main characters. We know from the start that they will not end up with the main character, but they are usually fun people with an unrequited crush, who are introduced at the beginning as part of a love triangle.We could observe the same pattern in Cheese in the Trap, the author’s other work. In Ho was shortly introduced after the male lead,they had a personal grudge against each other, fell in love with the same girl, etc. He was included in promotional art, but it was obvious he was destined to lose.

Let’s look at Unripe Apples from the same perspective. Jinseop is shortly introduced after Cheol, he has a fun personality and personal connections to Cheol. Does he end up as the second ml? No.He seems like the perfect candidate, but he only becomes Miae’s friend without romantic feelings. What about Jungwook? He’s Cheol’s friend, goes to the same academy as Mae, he is handsome and kind, another perfect candidate. But no. He never has any romantic feelings towards Miae. So, here comes the strange part. We are introduced to a boy way long into the story, Seo Jisu. His apperance seems random at that point of the narrative until we realize: but he has been there all along. In fact, if Korean theories are true, he has been in the story since chapter 1. Miae gets back her pencil, but it wasn’t Cheol’s doing. Soemone drags Miae away from the crowd at the sports festival. She dances with a faceless guy who keeps saying random things. They are sent out to the corridor for not paying attention. He finds Miae’s nametag and wears it. And, if the theories are true from the Korean raws, he went to the same elementary school and confessed he liked her in front of the whole class before transferring. So, this guy was truly everywhere in the narrative even before we were aware of his existence. But why?

If he was truly destined to be the second ml, why wasn’t he introduced earlier? Why was this character needed when we already had at least two boys who could have fulfilled the same role? Jinseop already created tension between the main characters, so what was the reason? Also, Jisu is weirdly separated from certain parts of the story. He doesn’t go to the academy, in fact, we never see him outside school. Jinseop is tied to Cheol’s past, and we see him a lot outside of school with Miae. And how does Miae see Jisu? She thinks he’s weird, while others characters think the same of her. Even though they recently made connection, she looks at him a lot, while they are not even friends. Miae had already had a lot of male friends from the cast, why was one more added? And why don’t we know anything about him?

Well, here comes the final conclusion. I think Jisu will be the one Miae will stay with at the end. Otherwise I do not see why the author chose to drop so many hints of him even before his introduction if it wasn’t going to be important. If Cheol and Miae get separated, which is supported by the narrative, the most likely outcome is that she introduced Jisu to be Miae’s final love interest. Again, I’m not saying this because I prefer him over Cheol. I love both characters. I relate a lot to Cheol. It is my objective conclusion based on the narrative, if the author wants to portay a realistic coming-of-age story. It would be pointless if she created Jisu’s character only to create drama at that late point of the story, and honestly, bad writing, especially with how she built up his character in the background. Obviously, I can be wrong. The story will still be good even I’m wrong. But it’s an interesting possibility to think about.

#aslfua #after school lessons for unripe apples #mi ae hwang #kim cheol #hwang miae #cheol kim #seo jisu #miae #cheol #jisu #unripe apples #theory #webtoon

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docholligay · 10 months

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Transit

“Oh, I mean, last time,” I say with a chuckle of hubris, spitting in the eye of God, “we’d come up around the Strawberry Fest*, and the train was so packed in--you know, it was, everyone was leaving at the same time, so we had to stand--”

“I think we lost each other.” Bel adds.

“Yeah, I was telling Jill, ‘fuck it, we’ll find them in Ely, it’s not very big.’” I have a broad smile, a fool, an idiot, and I shake my head at my mom, “But it’s not like that, the winter fair.”

And you what? I was telling the truth. It was not the same as the Strawberry Fair, and the issues we encountered were not the same as the ones from Strawberry Fair, but my grand silliness was in assuming there would be no problem at all.

Come with me, on a tale of not exactly woe, but perhaps a very exciting 20 minutes in some other nation’s history as we attempted to get back to Ely.

Background information:

It is COLD. This is coming from me, Lord High Chancellor of “y’all don’t know from cold, I am so very manly tee hee” it was fucking cold, alright? In the realm of 30F/-1C, which, back home, is chilly I’ll say, but not such a huge deal as to attract notice. But. This country is wet**. This country is so fucking wet. This country is a kitchen sponge continually being misted with ice cold water. Stepping outside is the equivalent of being smacked in the face with a damp wool sweater. It takes my hair, my fine, short hair, an hour to dry. And so, we are walking through clouds on the verge of freezing.

Taking into account the above, and also the fact that I am both proud and an idiot, my feet are completely numb. I’m not saying much, but I’m having trouble keeping my feet under me. Doc, what does this have to do with being proud and an idiot? I chose the cute shoes that day, friends, with naught but a wool sock and a thin leather sole between me and the ground. It was, how do you say, unwise.

If we miss this train (Read: cluster of trains) we will be trapped in Cambridge for the better part of an hour or so.

To be perfectly arrogant, in addition to being proud and an idiot, I can bear up under quite a bit, and simply set feeling anything to the side in pursuit of an experience. I forget that other people are not necessarily built that way, and my mother is very tired and a bit dead on her feet.

In conclusion, we have to get this train back to Ely.

Dani (cleverly (?--we report you decide)) spots a train going to Birmingham by way of Ely, which’ll take off sooner than the one we were originally planning on taking. Excellent! Brilliant, as they say, even. It also gave me an idea of what a Cross Country train, which I will later be taking to Birmingham, looks like. It seems fine, which is broadly how I would describe most of the trains in the UK that are not EMR, where hope goes to die. We sit, chatting. It’s lovely. We laugh about not wanting to go to Birmingham. What a delightful time.

And then, that angel’s trumpet of coming destruction: The vioce of a calm British man on a trainline. “This train will be delayed as the driver is stuck in Cambridge traffic.” What can I do but start laughing? As I understand it, the Mill Road Winter Fair is one of two great calamities that befall Cambridge a year, and it dovetails with interview week***. Apparently, this is not largely known to people who presumably should know better, and so here we are, sitting on a train to Birmingham, discussing our options about switching to another, better, perhaps faster train.

I look at Dani and Bel with the same sort of look, I imagine, that people give me when we’re in the woods and I ask if they want to go along the ridge or if they’d rather drop down into the valley. I understand the words they are saying, but I do not understand the implicatons of them. We’re going to stay on, declares Dani, with a sense of assuredness that comes when you have a train in the hand versus two in the bush, and we all agree that this seems as good an idea as any.

For a few minutes, at least.

And then, the voice of the announcing angel comes again, and tells us that anyone going to Ely should really consider getting off the train, as they aren’t sure when the driver will be there and the train the next platform over is terminating at Ely. Oh, by the by, that train leaves in three minutes.

A wave of humanity rises as if in a Japanese woodcut, all moving in a herd toward the platform across the station. Now, for my American and Canadian readers, at the very least, let me explain how a smaller train station in the UK looks. They aren’t big, particularly, but because of how trains work, to get to another platform, you have to go over or under, generally over, with a set of stairs****. An entire crowd of people is running to the stairs, running up and over the platform in a desperate bid to not be stranded in Cambridge. As we run up the stairs, a voice assures and disappoints, that the train to Ely will be delayed, and, in my extreme foolishness and naive trust of the “National” Rail “””System”””, I think, “Lovely! They’re holding the train for us!”

OH DOC DOC.

We make it to the other platform, and the train, my friends, my companions, is not even there. Leaving in three minutes, my god. So now we watch. The train to Birmingham is helpfully being delayed minute by minute, as the second it turns 16:13, the train will be leaving at 16:13, until, of course, it is 16:14, and then the train will be leaving at that time. Our train to Ely, however, exists in that mysterious liminal space of merely ~delayed~, which keeps things fresh and exciting.

Which will take off first? We eye the Birmingham train across the distance, nearly daring it to leave before thhe train to Ely even arrives, looking at each other on the platform, eyes dashing about like frightened animals. From where will relief come? Is there any escape from Cambridge?

There are many opportunities to place bets here, as suddenly, a third horse enters the race!

A train to Norwich, via Ely, pulls into the station next tot he train to Birmingham. Apparently Ely is a good place to go through, if not rest at. We turn to each other. I have not the knowledge to divine the future, and turn thus to my oracles of public transportation, they who dwell in the Fens and hear the whispers of the eels, who follow the rivers of iron on boats run by the capricious gods of Great Northern and CrossCountry. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have any clue what to do either. The delight of the British train system is that it is happy to supplly you with the ability to make many wrong choices. We debate. We watch.

We crawl BACK across the stairs and platform, and get on the train to Norwich.

As we sit, the train to Birmingham pulls away.

*This is the wrong name for it, but it’s also what I said, so, [sic]

**I keep saying this, and Dani keeps saying, “Is it? I think it’s been a bit dry.” and I am mere moments from popping her in the face, wherein water will gush from her like a sodden foam ball.

***This is, apparently, the one week where they do every single interview for The Smart Youths to see if they’re getting into Cambridge. What a low stress environment. Fantastic idea.

****I was absolutely unaware of this when I previously went to the UK, and sent an email to Dani trying to ask about how difficult it was to change trains, but my question about what the fuck a train station even looks like was so basic that it took two or three emails before she even understood what I was asking. So I am here for you, my fellow Americans.

#Doc Does Christmas #The train to Norwich did in fact take us to Ely without incident #but that's not as good a drop line

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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

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Ours | Chapter Twelve

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: ANGST (it's going to get worse after this chapter so please check content warnings), swearing, depression, col over reacting, col & presley arguing, mentions of domestic abuse, MF being a dumb asshole

Colson

I’ve been walking around like a zombie for the past three weeks.

I feel terrible about it. I should be celebrating our album, celebrating the fact that I’m married, celebrating my birthday that passed by weeks ago, but I can’t. April turned into May and as the weather warms and the days get longer, I just can’t pull myself out of this hole.

I barely talk to anyone, even Presley. She’s understanding and kind and patient but I know how much it hurts her. We fall asleep together most nights but we haven’t had sex since before Megan’s post came out. I miss her, of course I do.

I find her in the kitchen, finishing up dinner, and before she notices me, I take a second to watch her. She looks like she’s lost some weight from her already thin frame. Her hair is in a messy claw clip and she wears sweats and a giant t-shirt. Come to think of it, she’s been acting depressed, too. Probably because her husband has turned into a depressed lump whom half the world hates. Maybe half the world is dramatic, but it feels like it.

I haven’t been on social media and I’ve only been replying to those closest to me. Even then, my replies are few and far between. I can only imagine what’s being said about me. My lawyer told me Megan was forced to delete her post, but it’s not like it matters. Everyone already saw it. Everyone already drew their own conclusions.

As Presley turns around to place our bowls on the island, she spots me. She straightens up a little and her face, a mask of misery and exhaustion, transforms into a weak smile. She’s trying so hard for me but I can tell she’s also feeling broken. I imagine I’d feel the same way if she was going through something painful. I sigh and walk over to her. She turns to look up at me and I slide my arms around her waist, pulling her in.

“Col,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face against my neck. I say nothing. I stand there and hold my wife, trying my best to draw strength from her. But nothing is better and everything is fucked up and I’m so scared. I just need Presley. I need to be close to her, to forget the rest of the world.

I bend to scoop her up and her legs go easily around my waist. I settle her on the island and press my forehead to hers, my hands sliding over her thighs. “Pres,” I say roughly. Her hand delicately rests on my cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been myself.”

“Colson,” Presley tries, shaking her head, but I continue.

“It’s not fair for me to shut you out. I just don’t have anything productive to say,” I mutter.

“Talking about your feelings isn’t unproductive, Col,” Presley gently points out. “I just want you to tell me what you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

“I’m…I’m fucking scared,” I say haltingly, like the words don’t want to come out. “I don’t know what this is going to mean for my career. It could kill me, Pres.”

Presley chews her lip. “Quite honestly, there are a ton of abusive men in Hollywood and they’re pretty much all forgiven.”

My brow furrows. “But I’m not an abuser,” I say tightly.

“No, Col, I know that,” Presley says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean–”

I push away from her, shaking my head. “Don’t even compare me to those assholes,” I say, anger and fear rising in my chest.

Presley’s eyes widen as she hops down from the counter. “Colson, I’m not–”

“You fucking believe her, don’t you?” I scoff, frowning deeply at my wife.

“Colson, you’re–”

“Nah, that’s fucking cute, Presley,” I say shortly, tearing a hand through my hair. “Thought you of all people had my back.”

“Colson, stop!” Presley pleads, crossing her arms protectively across her chest.

“Let me guess, you’re going to ask for a divorce soon,” I scoff. I know I’m being unreasonable, but I don’t want to be blindsided again. If she’s going to leave, I need to be prepared for it.

“Stop. You just want to hurt your own feelings,” Presley shoots back, her eyes narrowing. “You know I don’t feel that way.”

“Maybe you fucking do, though,” I mutter, and Presley explodes.

“Oh, fuck off!” she snaps, her eyes wide and fierce with anger. “I’ve been nothing but supportive and patient and sweet to you. I don’t force you to talk. I don’t tell you what to do. And now you want to put shit on me?”

“Presley,” I say, heart sinking.

She shakes her head, holding a hand up. “You can wallow in your own fucking misery by yourself tonight,” she says. “I’m going to Cash’s.” With that, she abandons the kitchen and takes the stairs two at a time up to our room.

Panic rises within me and I want to follow her but I feel frozen in place. She comes downstairs a few minutes later. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Presley slips into a pair of slides, shoulders her bag, and slams out of the house.

And now, I’m completely alone.

Presley

I wake up at Cash’s place the next morning with my eyes so swollen I can barely open them.

I don’t let Colson see how much this all impacts me because he’s the one really dealing with it. I’m just the wife. But I’m also the one who sees what’s being said on social media. I’m the one that interacts most with Jason, Colson’s lawyer. I’m the one who responds to texts from friends and emails about interviews. I don’t think Colson has any idea how much I’ve been doing since this all happened.

I’m completely exhausted. I miss my husband. I miss how things were just a month ago, before Megan ruined everything. She can’t stand seeing Colson happy with someone else. I see it for exactly what it is, but too many people still see Megan as this sexy, perfect woman and how dare MGK even breathe the same air as her!

I hate her, and I don’t hate people. Usually, I’m pretty indifferent to anyone I don’t know. I’m protective of those I love, but I’m pretty good at just brushing people off. But I actually hate Megan. The fact that she’s making allegations like this for attention, for revenge on Colson for not taking her back when she was the one who hurt him in the first place. Colson is right – he’ll probably never come back from allegations like this.

Jason is at a standstill with things; Megan’s lawyer isn’t very communicative, but I wake up with a strong feeling that I have to do something about this and very fucking soon. I stare at the ceiling for a long time, fingers twitching. “Fuck it,” I mutter, snatching my phone off the nightstand. Do not disturb is still on, so I ignore any notifications and scroll down, finding her original text to me. I type up the message and stare at it for three minutes before I finally hit send.

There. Can’t take it back now.

It’s raining as I navigate LA traffic, hoodie pulled over my head. I must look wild right now, no makeup, messy hair, sweats and a hoodie. Slides on my feet. But I don’t give a fuck. This ends today.

I send a text to announce my arrival and the gate slowly creeps open. It gives me some satisfaction that her house is smaller than ours and nowhere near as nice or unique. I park in front of the garage and walk up to the front door. I should be nervous but I’m not. I’m angry. I’m motivated. She doesn’t get to do this.

Before I even walk up the steps, the door is open. Megan stands there, one hand curled around the door, her long nails like talons. It’s funny – I used to have such a crush on Megan Fox. She was that girl-next-door kind of sexy, a little daring in the things she’d say but still coy enough. But up close, it’s clear just how much surgery she’s gotten done, and it doesn’t suit her. She can do whatever she wants; anyone can. But that doesn’t mean it looks good.

We nod at each other and I step inside as she moves out of my way. “Shoes off, please,” she says, and I leave my slides by the door. I follow her into a stark white dining room area. It’s the exact opposite of comfortable here. How does anyone live like this?

“Have a seat,” Megan says, gesturing to one of the stiff chairs. I need to play this the right way, so I do as I’m told. She goes to the other side of the table and has a seat, slowly pushing her long hair off her shoulder. Her eyes find mine and she regards me for a second. Then, she smirks. “Colson has a type.”

“I don’t think he does,” I say, unable to help myself. “Where you’re a cold, vindictive bitch, I’m actually nice and I care about him.”

Megan snickers, quirking a brow. “Good to know you have some bite to you, Presley,” she says. “Why did you want to come here?”

“I thought we could have tea and girl talk,” I say, cocking my head to the side. “Why do you think I’m here, Megan?” I’m trying to keep it together, but now that I’m across the table from her, my anger is an entity in the room with us.

She smirks but then it fades. She’s an actress but not a very good one. She’s trying so hard to look broken and sad but I see right fucking through it. “Has he hit you yet?” she asks.

“Cut the bullshit,” I say, tone clipped. “You and I both know Colson never laid a hand on you.”

“Oh, he laid hands on me several times, if you catch what I’m saying,” she says, that smirk reappearing. “Does he tell you you’re the most stunning woman he’s ever seen while he fucks you?” She leans forward, pressing her huge, fake breasts up. “He once told me I have the nicest body of any woman he’s been with. Has he said that to you?”

She’s trying to hurt me. She’s trying to get me to snap. This is what she does. I absolutely refuse to give into her games.

“So you’re saying any time he touched you, it was consensual,” I say.

Megan rolls her eyes. “Of course. You guys are all idiots,” she says. “Colson can posture all he wants but you know he’d never hurt a fly. But it’s so easy to get people to believe it. He has a reputation, after all. Aren’t you quite a bit younger than he is?”

“And aren’t you ten-plus years older than me and trying to scare me?” I shoot back. There it is – a tiny crack in the persona. A flicker of insecurity. It empowers me. “Why can’t you just let us be happy? You didn’t even want him. You left him, remember?”

Megan leans back, crossing her arms. “And now I want him back,” she says, eyes burning into mine.

“Do you think this is the way to get him back?” I ask, incredulous. “Holy shit. That’s so sad.”

“Don’t do that,” she says, a sour look taking over her features. “Don’t try to make me feel pathetic. It won’t work.”

“You need to admit that Colson never hurt you. Or his lawyer is going to sue you for everything you fucking have,” I say coldly.

“So what?” Megan snorts. “He can go right ahead. What’s done is done. No one will ever forget that I put that post out there.” She shrugs.

“But he never hit you. He never physically assaulted you,” I say.

“Of course he didn’t,” Megan scoffs. “Like I said, he was a pussy.”

My nostrils flare in anger but I’m almost done. “I want you to admit it,” I mutter. “To me.”

“Really?” Megan says, a grin broadening on her face. “You want me to admit that Colson never hurt me? He didn’t. In fact, I hit him. Several times. He deserved it.” Another crack in the exterior. A cold, desolate anger that I’ve never seen in anyone else before. This woman is fucking scary.

“You’re sick,” I say, getting to my feet. “Leave us the fuck alone.”

“We’ll see about that,” Megan says from where she sits. I slip into my shoes and leave.

As soon as I get in the car, I stop the audio recording, a smile growing slowly on my face. I toggle to the end of the recording, stopping it right before her confession. I got it. I fucking got it.

This ends now.

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