#i beg of queue remember my name

[jauffre]

ELDER SCROLLS ONLINE: LOADING SCREENS

↳ PLAYER HOUSING [2/8]

[reiderwriter]

💫 Starry-Eyed 💫

Pairing: Porn Star! Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: For work experience, you take a job working the cameras on a porn shoot, but after becoming suddenly attracted to a new coworker, you shortly find yourself as a fluffer, the person whose job it is to keep the "talent" aroused between takes.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Porn AU, College AU kinda, exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), consensual voyeurism, masturbation (male), blow job, deep throating, messy orgasm.

A/N: Well, look at where we are. I think this actually counts as my first Alternate Universe fic, which is crazy all things considered. I'm really enjoying the Kink Bingo Challenge as it's leading me to so many new ideas for fics!! I hope you all enjoy this one 🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Being a college student still at age 25 meant many things, but mostly, it meant you had friends at many different stages of their lives. Some were fresh out of high school halls, enjoying their first taste of freedom, some were enjoying their first drops of alcohol. Some were giving up alcohol for good and starting families. 

Some of them were successful porn stars who'd funded their own start-up porn production company. It certainly was one way to use a film degree. You knew a professor or two who would enjoy her work more than half your syllabus as well. 

Candi Rapper had become famous doing cam shows in her first year of college and had gone all-in after graduation. You'd shared a few classes in the early days, before you took a break from college for financial reasons, of course. By the time you'd gone back, she was a big time and now in the position to offer you a job. 

“One of my crews is down a cameraman this weekend. If you're open to it, I pay a fair wage?” she'd offed at your weekly brunch. 

“Will you be the star?” You joked back with her. 

“You wish.” 

You took the job, of course, along with a ride from Candi (her name was Kate, but you'd let her pretend) and pulled up on site bright and alert at 7am. 

The set was a large mansion - typical, Candi said - and you'd be mostly shooting in the living room - typical, Candi said. You'd had to tell her after her second typical that you were, in fact, an adult and had seen at least one porno before until she cut out pornsplaining everything to you. She introduced you to the key staff and the director, and they got you set up at your camera. 

“The shoot today is going to be around 5 hours. You'll be on camera three. The papers in front have your cues and directions. You can have some free time until we start. There's a breakfast spread in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Not one to turn down free food, you bee-lined there and stood awkwardly in line for the coffee with the dozen or so other crew members, eyeing up the take-out pancakes organised across the granite surface. 

“Your first time?” An older man asked from behind you, smiling in a friendly manner. 

“You can tell?” 

“You're thinking about eating the pancakes, and the rest of us are remembering the scene filmed there last weekend," as if on queue, a shiver ran down his spine. "Yeah, we can tell.” You laughed along with the man's joke and finally grabbed your coffee. 

Luck just wasn't on your side, though, as you turned and immediately ran into someone immediately sloshing the coffee onto your shirt. 

“Oh my god, I am so - I'm so sorry, I need to watch where I'm going.” 

You'd run into 6’3” of lanky, awkward male perfection. He looked young, your age or younger most likely, and was fidgeting as he stood, the most obviously uncomfortable person in the building.

Your first thought was “Is he lost?” closely followed by “Can I beg him to get lost in a linen closet somewhere with me?” 

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the counter nearby and began attempting to wipe away the coffee you'd spilt down yourself, completely unaware that he was fondling your breasts in his haste to do so. 

“Slow down there, tiger, shoot doesn't start for another half hour,” you said, winking at him as you took the tissues from his panicked hands and dried yourself as best you could. 

“I know, I memorised the call sheet. Who are you?” His question was blunt, but you weren't taken aback at all, your smile even deepening as you enjoyed his subtle attention. 

“I'm Y/N. It's my first time.” 

He spluttered, coming up with an answer to that, and you immediately cursed yourself for the slip. 

“My first time on set, not my- I'm 25. Not that age determines experience per say but-”

“I'm 22. And my name is Spencer,” he said, grasping your hand and shaking it. 

“So, it's your first time on set?” He asked, relaxing more into the conversation as he stepped closer to you, letting the other staff members come and go from the kitchen. 

“Yeah. My friend offered me the job, you know Candi?” 

He nodded but didn't speak, so you continued. 

“She thought the experience would be good for me. And the cash. Gotta put myself through college somehow, and it was this or stripping.” 

He laughed, and you felt a flash of warmth in your stomach, a familiar hunger spreading across your lower body. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the set, but the air was charged with arousal. 

“Well, you're certainly attractive enough to do both jobs. I'm sure the camera is going to love you,” he said, sounding so genuine and enthusiastic that you almost felt bad you had to correct him.

“Oh! Oh, no, Spencer, I'm not - I'm, uh, I'm going to be behind the camera. Behind camera number two.” 

His face instantly flushed, and you thought you saw a pang of disappointment there for a second, too. The thought of him being disappointed made your skin heat, that he'd been looking forward somehow to watching you get fucked? Your cunt throbbed and suddenly, you found you did wish to display yourself, to let everyone see if it meant that he got to.

“I am so sorry. I didn't - I thought… No, I didn't think, I… I'll shut up now, please excuse me-” 

“No, Spencer, wait-” 

You tried to call after him, but he sent you an embarrassed smile and walked off in haste, leaving you behind as the director called people to their places. 

You were still flushed with arousal as you moved to your station, getting your camera ready for filming. You were distracted even as the scene started, and the female actress came on set, already stripped down to her underwear and touching herself, teasing the camera. 

Surprisingly, you found the work easy enough, too busy focusing on the settings and the gaze of the camera to even care about what was going on down the lens. She was moaning and writhing and gasping sure, to the benefit of the cameras, and although strangely intimate, nobody in the room seemed bothered, so neither did you. 

Or neither did you until the actual scenario started, and your actress got ‘caught’ doing the dirty by the needy boy next door. You hadn't looked at the call sheet closely enough as Spencer peeped through the door to the bedroom, entering the scene not by accident but as a scripted part of the show. 

Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately looked down to your prompt sheet to find his name there. 

LEAD ACTOR: SPENCER REID

His stage name was scribbled next to that, but you paid it no attention as you steadied your camera again and got to filming seriously again. 

The actress had pulled his glasses off and led him to the bed, letting him keep on his sweater vest and tie as she pulled his head between her legs, and he started doing his job. 

Even from your view to the side of him, you could tell this wasn't his first time doing that. His tongue spread across the expanse of her heat, first, letting her grind into his face, getting comfortable before he snaked a hand up to her stomach and held her in place for as long as he so desired.

Then, he rolled her clit into his mouth and sucked. The fake moans and whimpers suddenly became real as you saw the sheer skill of his tongue ripple through the woman's body. 

You couldn't even be jealous at this point, despite how much you sorely wished that were you on the bed. Surely no girl had resorted to porn out of pure horny desire before, right? 

After a while of letting her gasp and moan under his tongue, Spencer's fingers curled inside the other woman as well. The director called cut, and he kept his fingers there, even as they walked him through the next few shots, and instructed him to unzip his pants in the next few clips. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself as the cameras started rolling again, and he did finally free himself from his tight khakis. 

You knew you'd probably sign up for whatever was on offer at this company next to see that gift again. Spencer wasn't an impressive size or girth, nothing so alien or out of the ordinary that it only belonged in porn. It was just that his cock looked so… pretty. 

He was an inch or two longer than any man you'd ever been with, you were sure, but his cock seemed to have an air of dignity about it. 

You had to stop yourself at that thought. Dignity? Really? You were working part-time on a porn set, and there was suddenly dignity involved? 

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to find your earlier unbothered attitude. But with his cock in his hands and his face slick with female arousal, you really couldn't bring yourself to think about anything less than his fingers roughly finger-fucking you. 

You tried to close your eyes to it, to be blind, but the wet, sticky sounds only distracted you  and you found yourself soon swaying, swaying, swaying until you had to catch yourself before the camera dropped. 

With a shout of “yes, baby, yes,” the female star came on his face, sending up a furret of fluids as he just kept diligently stroking his cock, only stopping at the director's final yell of “CUT.”

“Perfect guys, let's get her up and drinking water again. You need to stay hydrated after all that,” he joked, a PA walking over to pass the actress a robe and a bottle of water as she walked off set. 

You relaxed for a second, trying to find your quickest route out of the room so you wouldn't have to drool over the man's cock so obviously any more. 

“FLUFFER? Where's the fluffer?” The director yelled, looking around for someone who obviously wasn't there yet. 

“Well?”

Still, no one arrived to do whatever job they needed doing, and you felt desperate for escape. 

“New girl, would you mind?” Some crew member called out from the sidelines, nodding at you. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, hoping that whatever job you agreed to would get you far enough from this room and the heat between your legs as possible. You were not a prude, and you would not bolt from your very first film shoot. 

“Great, get on the bed and keep the boy company,” the director said before exiting the room. 

You were absolutely on board with becoming a prude and bolting the scene as fast as your legs could carry you. Unfortunately, eight people still sat around, monitoring equipment and chatting on their breaks, and so you were forced to comply with the task. 

“We meet again,” you greeted the man stiffly as you found him on the bed, an apprehensive, tight smile on his own face.

“You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable, I can keep myself… occupied.” 

You noticed then that his hand was still wrapped around his cock, giving it slow strokes, not enough to tip him over the edge, but just enough to maintain the erection. 

“So the fluffer….?” 

“Prepares the actors for the next scene? I need to stay- let say in shape.” 

His face flushed crimson as your gaze slipped down to his cock in his hand. 

“So you want me to-” 

“NO. No, I usually only talk to the Fluffers. Look at them, you know?” 

You nodded and found yourself suddenly going still, watching his face contort with pleasure as his eyes raked over your chest and legs. 

You couldn't help but let your eyes dart south again, and fuck did you wish you hadn't. His spare hand fisted the sheets as he stroked himself gently, practically taunting himself with the light touch. 

“You do this often?” you asked, trying to pretend you were open to having a normal conversation even while your brain begged you to climb into his lap and sink down as fast as you could. 

“You mean maaturbate or the porn thing?” 

“Porn.” 

“No. No, I come in for a shoot every few months. One of these shoots tends to fund another semester of my PhD, so-” 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were impressed by that admission, but your predominate thought was still “shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“That's impressive,” you said, only catching your words as they tripped out of your mouth. “THE PHD! The PhD, I mean not your… penis? Not that it isn’t appealing, or- or-.” 

You tried your hardest to use the most clinical word you could, distancing yourself from the honeyed words you so wanted to drop in his ear to get him to crawl further up the bed and entice him to make his own scene with you. 

“Thank you. It's my third,” he said, slightly more relaxed now that you were the flustered one. 

“PhD that is. Not cock. I only have one of these.” 

“One is enough,” you say, unable to stop the words tumbling out as your eyes again find themselves following each pump of his hand up and down his cock. Inwardly, you curse your friend for starting up her stupid business and paying you to simply exist in the same hemisphere as this man without being able to ride him. 

“Do you want to touch it?” He asked, blurting the words out suddenly. As if God had answered your prayers, your heart leapt up into your throat, your pussy clenching around nothing as you shifted your hips closer to him. 

You'd thought then that you'd quite enjoy bouncing on that thing yourself, but a handshake would have to do.

“So you have to stay hard, but-” 

“But it's best I don't cum, yeah.”

“Okay. Noted.”

Slowly, you reached out a hand and gently wrapped each finger around the tip of his cock. He released himself and wrapped his now free hand around yours, setting the pace for you quickly as he engaged you in conversation again. 

“So, where are you from?” He asked, as inept at small talk as you felt in that second. 

You answered him without a fuss and returned the question. Las Vegas. That seemed to check out with how easily he'd broken into porn. There was always something happening in that city. 

"How'd you get into the business?"

"Well, Vegas, you know. A producer saw a group of... street ladies offer me a freebie and gave me his card."

You went back and forth on questions like that for a few minutes before you noticed he was coughing every few seconds to mask moans and groans, evidently too into this to request you stop. 

“Is it okay to…Can I touch you?” He asked, sounding very afraid of rejection at that second. 

“Oh, um, yes. That'd only be fair, right?” 

He ran a hand up your waist to the curve of your breast and pressed his fingers into one, digging into the skin as though it were a pillow, and he was testing it before he fell head first into it. 

Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though. 

Temporarily, you let go of him, popping the front buttons of your blouse until he could freely see all of your black and red bra, and feast on the tops of your dusty nipples, peaking out just above each cup.

You heard him inhale sharply, even as he tried to hide it, but you didn't care, too transfixed on the precum decorating his tip. 

“Would you mind-” You started, but cut yourself off quickly, biting your lower lip. 

“Mind?” 

“Can I suck it?”

You didn't know where it came from because there were probably half a dozen other people still in the room, and mostly men. But dear god, he looked delicious, and you wanted just a little sample. 

“Fuck yes,” he said, finally giving in and letting out a whole gust of breath as he slumped down a bit further, no longer holding himself rigid. “No, no, actually, please do. I'm begging, I'll beg-” 

You cut him off by pushing yourself to your knees and crawling in between his, and seconds later, you were licking the length of his cock from the base of his balls all the way to that precious drop of precum. 

Hard, but no cumming. You could do that. You'd never done it before, preferring to fully pleasure sexual partners any chance you got, but there was no time like the present to start learning. 

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around his tip and sank down, taking one inch, then another, and then another. When you reached the base of his cock, you pushed that little bit further down, calming yourself and going slowly so you didn't gag, nose pushing into his neat public hair before pulling away just as slowly and doing it again. 

You took him as deep down your throat as you could manage, and suddenly, it was like everything that kept your conversation casual and civil earlier had flown out the door. He threw his head back, fisted his hand in your hair, and moaned deep. 

The sound shook you so much you almost pushed a hand into your own underwear and started fucking yourself, needing to prepare yourself for him like a good girl. 

Around you, you could hear signs of the shoot starting back up again, people finding their places, still all but ignoring you deep-throating a porn star. 

Spencer's breaths grew more rapid as you sucked him, hips becoming restless as he tried to lift up into your mouth, hand in your hair tightening as you realised your mistake. 

You pulled off his cock and grasped it again, stroking it slowly, but it was too late. With a sharp moan and a twitch of his hips, Spencer so prettily decorated your chin and chest. His cum dripped down your face, hitting your cleavage and pushing further down to stain your nice black laced underwear white.

“Fuck! Sorry, I wasn't meant to do that, let me get some - Can I get a towel please? A baby wipe? Some tissue, anything?” His voice was panicked, but his hand on your head relaxed, and he brushed your hair gently behind your ear, as if comforting you. 

He was panicked, for sure, but the crew calmly handed him everything he needed, as if they'd been in anticipation of just this thing happening. You supposed they probably were, this being a porn set. You were sure you were supposed to clean yourself up, but instead, he grabbed a wet tissue, leaving the pack just out of your reach.

He managed to clean your face off a bit before the director returned to the room with a laugh. Running a hand through his hair and messing it up slightly, the director turned back to you.

“We're five minutes out from shoot time,” he said, shaking his head. You started to apologise, but he stopped you with a hand. 

“New girl, work whatever magic you just did and get him hard again. Five minutes.” 

“W-What?” You spluttered, trying your best to rise from your knees, but ultimately failing. You were either stiff from the position or just weak with arousal. 

“He just came, I don't think I can-”

“10 pictures I've done with that kid, and I haven't seen him cum that quickly ever before in my life. And certainly not just for some kitten licks. Do it.”

You turned back to Spencer, his cum still trickling down your chest, creating an almost uncomfortable stiffness as it dried up. 

“Pleasure working with you?” You said, not-so-secretly ecstatic that you got to sample him once more. 

“I'll be in your care,” he replied, as you begin softly kissing the head of his cock again, tipping his head back again and losing himself in the pleasure or your tongue.

[starboye]

how i met loser!simon riley

you had met simon through a friend, they had invited the both of you out to a bar after a long deployment and you agreed, you didn't really know who simon was at first you had just heard small things about him, like how he was mainly silent and was a pretty good soldier among other things

when you saw him you just brushed him off as a regular guy but when he saw you my god he knew he wanted you right then and there, staring at you the whole night and admiring every part of your body, he wanted to introduce himself to you so badly but his fear never let him even get close to you

but imagine his surprise when you bump into him on the way to the bathroom and saying sorry to him with his name... you actually remembered his name, usually people will talk with him for days and never remember his name but you did, that means you obviously like him right, you want him just as much as he wants you right?

queue the beginning of what started as a crush turn into an obsession, always finding you in a room of people and sometimes stalking you, following you around anywhere you went without you knowing, whether that be around base or in civilian life

once he actually begged price to put you two on a mission together, willing to do anything and everything if it meant being within close proximity of you, some would consider him a pervert but he just really likes you that's all, likes you so so much

[allforhee]

*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN

୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.

୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake

୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread

୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)

୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)

“right this way, ma'am.”

as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.

in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”

sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.

a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.

“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.

“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.

“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.

“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.

jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.

that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.

you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.

he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.

with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.

as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.

sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.

as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.

the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.

you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.

as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.

he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.

“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.

jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.

heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.

“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.

you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”

heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.

as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.

sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.

as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”

sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.

the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.

jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.

“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.

“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”

he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.

you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.

“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.

“i have my ways.” you hint at him.

as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.

jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.

you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;

“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”

“no way what did he whisper to you?”

“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”

you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.

jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.

taglist; -

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© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[vivwritesfics]

In Bloom

Chapter One

Max wasn't like other Hogwarts students. He was having to live with the terrible things his father had done. Everybody expected him to turn out like his father, but he was the furthest thing from. He just needed two people to see that

Lestappen X Reader

6.7K

Okay so this follows the basic plot of the Harry potter books (from memory), with some major differences to fit our drivers. A list of which Harry potter each driver relates to can be found HERE

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen could still remember the dread he felt as he stepped up to the sorting hat at just eleven years old. Everybody avoided him on the train, and he'd waited at the back of the queue to be sorted.

Not Slytherin, he thought as he climbed those stairs. Anything but Slytherin.

It came as no surprise that he was sorted into Slytherin. His entire family had been, and he was no different. 'There wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin,' he'd heard somebody say before the sorting.

But even Slytherin didn't want him. He went to sit down and everybody shuffled away from him, giving him plenty of space. Even in his newfound house, even with the people that were supposed to be like his family, as professor Vettel had said, he felt alone.

Unable to look past his own dread, Max had failed to notice something. He failed to notice the boy with his hair covering his forehead and eyes, definitely impairing his vision. Even when the boys name was called, Max didn't notice.

He shouldn't have been surprised to hear the name 'Leclerc Charles' called. He was the boy that had defeated his father, after all. The whispers began as soon as his name was called. Gryffindor, his new house, cheered as he ran to join them. The same thing happened for Max just moments later, but without the cheering. They were like mythical creatures to the other students in the hall. Well, Charles was. Max was more like a circus freak.

First year for Max Verstappen was incredibly lonely. All anybody wanted to talk to him about was his father. They were all questions he couldn't answer because he didn't know his father. He had been destroyed when Max was only a year old.

Flying lessons were Max's favourite. He'd grown up watching Quidditch with his mother, even playing it sometimes. She'd played it for her entire life, up until she met Jos. It was in Max's blood. Max was determined to show Professor Button just what he could do to be put on the Slytherin team. No first year had ever made it onto the team before, he was determined to be the first.

Max tried to act shocked when Professor Button went to Professor Alonso, the head of Slytherin house, and begged him to put Max on the Qudditch team. "He's the best thing this schools ever seen!" Professor Button insisted.

Professor Alonso gave him a trial period. One match to prove he could keep up with the older kids on the team. For Max Verstappen, it was the easiest thing in the world.

This was the stuff of legend in Hogwarts. But it was overshadowed by Charles Leclerc and his idiot friends.

Max didn't know what happened to Charles, Esteban and Pierre under the school. It was all speculation and rumours. Nobody know whether they fought a dragon or found the legendary philosophers stone. Only Professor Schumacher knew that. Professor Schumacher and Charles.

Max heard all of the rumours. He ignored them as best he could. But there was one rumour that he couldn't shake. "Someone said that it was your dad Charles was fighting under the school," said Nikita, a fellow Sytherin and a massive dickhead. "Said he killed him, again."

Max couldn't stop his reaction. He leapt out of his seat in the common room and swung his fist at Nikita, hitting him square in the jaw. Nikita stumbled back, holding his jaw. Shock played on his face, but it soon turned into a smile. "You're going to regret," he started. "Didn't you know my father is close, personal friends with the minister?"

"I didn't ask, Nikita," Max spat as he walked away, leaving the common room all together.

First year wasn't all bad for Max. No, he made history on the Quidditch team and he made a few friends. Lando and Daniel, two Hufflepuffs with the widest smiles and hearts of gold.

He met Daniel first. He was maybe the first person Max had ever properly gotten along with. He found a kindred spirit in Daniel. He was maybe the funniest person Max had ever met.

Daniel had introduced Max to Lando halfway through their first year. Max had never had that connection with anybody. He finally knew what it was like to have friends, and it felt amazing. For the first time since arriving at the school, Max was himself. He was happy, funny, bubbly. Every joke Max cracked had Daniel folded at the waist, hands on his knees as he laughed.

Their friendship continued into Max and Lando's second year. Daniel was just that little bit older, going into his fourth year.

Second year was the first proper run in that Max had with Charles Leclerc. It had been a shit day for Max, Nikita was being an ass and his potions test scores were less than perfect. He was pissed at himself. His escape was the quidditch pitch. It was supposed to be empty. He could fly around, weaving in and out of the stands and goal hoops as much as he liked.

But he wasn't alone. No, somebody else was opening the box of quidditch supplies. Max hung back, watching to see what Charles did. He watched as Charles tucked the quaffle under his arm and mounted his broom.

He wasn't even on the quidditch team for his house. What was he doing there? But, the more Max watched, the more he understood. He watched as Charles flew around with skill. He did what Max was going to do, weaving around the stands and through the goal hoops, all with the quaffle tucked under his arm. It was no easy accomplishment. Max was thoroughly impressed.

He gave Charles a nod as he mounted his broom and flew around. They stayed away from each other that time, practiced without disturbing one another.

As soon as Max was done, he rushed to Professor Buttons office. He was still in his quidditch robes, his fingers a little frozen as he held his broom. "Professor," he called as he knocked on the door. "Can I talk to you?"

Max would never tell Charles Leclerc that he was the reason he was on the quidditch team. They hadn't spoken two words to each other yet, Max couldn't imagine a time where they'd be that friendly.

In his second year of Quidditch Max proved himself to be better than anyone expected. But, with the addition of Charles to the Gryffindor team, Slytherin finally had some real competition.

But the year wasn't all sparkles and rainbows. Not when the attacks started. Muggleborns being petrified, it was terrifying.

When the chamber of secrets was opened, everybody turned to Max. His father had opened it last time, hadn't he? So it only made sense that he opened it this time.

Those were the first words Charles Leclerc spoke to him. "Did you open the chamber of secrets?"

Mac couldn't hide the shock on his face. "Are you kidding me? Why would I want to attack muggleborns?" One of his best friends was muggleborn, for goodness sake.

But still, Charles wouldn't leave it alone. Things only got worse when Esteban was petrified. Charles cornered Max, demanded he fixed what he had done. All Max could do was express condolences and walk away.

But then Daniel was petrified. "Fuck," Max choked out when Lando told him. He followed him to the hospital wing and rushed straight to Daniels side. He wouldn't leave, not until his best friend was up and moving. The nurses were too afraid of him to pull him away.

Golden boy Charles saved the day. He found out who had been opening the chamber, a little first year who had no control over her actions. A cure for the petrifications was made using Mandrakes and Esteban and Daniel were on their feet just before the end of the year.

Max had been avoiding Charles. Ever seen his confronted him over Esteban, he wanted nothing to do with him. He and everyone else would always see him as the villain. It was so sad to learn that at just twelve years old.

But Charles found him. He cornered him once again, but this time, his expression was soft. "I'm sorry," he said.

Max looked at the floor, his jaw tight.

"It was wrong of me to assume that you're the one who opened the chamber. I realise that now," he continued.

Max let out something of a snort. "Just because my dad is a monster, it doesn't mean I am," was all he said. He pushed past him, trying to get away, trying to get to the end of year feast. But, before he could get too far, he stopped and turned back towards Charles. "If you want any chance of beating us in Quidditch next year, you should get a haircut, stop it from going in your eyes."

Just before the start of their third year, mass murderer Nico Rosberg escaped from Azkaban. Max remembered reading it in the paper. He read the headline out loud and his mother let the plate she was holding slip from her grasp. "Nico got out?" She asked as she rushed over.

Max nodded his head and showed her the paper. "I wanna know how he got past the dementors," he said with curiosity. He then turned to his mother. "Did you know him?"

It wasn't often she spoke about her time with Jos. From the little bits Max knew, it was awful and Max was the only good thing to come from it.

She shook her head. "He started Hogwarts just as I was finishing. I remember hearing his name a lot. He was always causing some sort of trouble with his best friend."

Max dropped the topic. The news article had said that Nico had been a supporter of his father. If he was out, maybe he was going to try and finish the job on Charles.

At the first feast of the year, a new teacher was introduced. Professor Hamilton, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year. But that wasn't all. Max watched from the Slytherin table as Lando walked into the hall, his arm around a pretty girl. He knew Lando had other friends, had seen him with this girl a few times. But he didn't know her, not at all.

It was indescribable how pretty she was. Max's eyes followed as she sat herself down between Lando and his other Hufflepuff friend, Max (Fewtrell).

Max tried really hard not to stare, but it was damn near impossible. She was his very first crush, and he didn't even know her name.

For the few classes he shared with Hufflepuff, Max tried to get Lando to tell him her name. Maybe it was because Lando wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but he just wasn't getting it. Max was being as obvious as he could be, without saying anything at all.

The day he learnt her name was the same day that he watched her run up to Chatles Leclerc and plant a kiss on his cheek. Maxs face fell. She was his first crush, and she was with somebody else. That was just his luck.

She was with Charles, that was clear. Max saw the way he placed his arm over her shoulders while they talked with Lando. So, why the hell was Lando introducing her to Max in the middle of charms?

She held her hand out to him, a lovely smile on her face. "I can't believe you two haven't met before," Lando said as he sat on the table.

Max couldn't quite believe he was shaking her hand. He had no clue what to say to her and, in a desperate bid to make a good first impression, he made a terrible one

But it didn't matter. The next time Max saw her was care of magical creatures with professor Brown. As with every lesson, Nikita made an ass of himself. Max couldn't help but shut him down, and that seemed to impress her.

But Nikita didn't know when to quit. It was his fault the beast struck him. It was his fault he'd sustained such an injury to his arm.

It was all he could talk about for the next few weeks. Max didn't know what would happen to the beast that had 'attacked' Nikita. Nikita boasted about a trial, about the beast being put to death. Of course, Max didn't believe it, not until he saw her crying about it.

She was too pretty to cry, Max thought as he watched her across the hall. She sat at the Gryffindor table, leaning against Charles as he rubbed her back. That should have been him, Max couldn't help but selfishly think.

On the day of the beasts execution, Max followed her and Charles down to Professor Brown's hut. He stayed behind them, watching as she swung her fist towards Nikita. Good, he thought. It was what that prick deserved.

She and Charles didn't notice him as they stepped into Professor Brown's hut. But Professor Brown did. "Come on in, Max," he said, stepping aside to let her and Charles see him.

Charles didn't scowl, like Max had expected. He gave him a sad smile as she stepped towards him, holding him. "It's awful, Max," she sobbed against his shirt. "They're going to kill him because Nikita is an asshole."

Max stood there, looked at Charles over the top of the head. There was a minute before he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed slightly.

"I found something of yours," said Professor Brown as he guided her away from Max. He grabbed a shoe box and opened it up, revealing her pet rat.

She didn't show up to Hogwarts with an owl, cat, rat or toad. This rat she had found at the station and, in a bid of desperation, she picked him up. He was so tame, she figured he had to be a magical rat.

Before they knew it, they were being ushered out of the hut by Professor Brown. They hid behind shrubbery as Professor Schumacher, the head master, brought Bernie Ecclestone, the minister, and the executioner, down to the hut.

As soon as the three of them had their backs to the students, Max and Charles got her back to the castle. They got halfway there before the sound of the axe hitting something stopped them.

Her gasp rang in the boys ears and she turned towards Charles, burying her face in his chest as she cried. "It's okay, chérie. I've got you."

But, suddenly, he didn't have her. Suddenly she was on the floor, screaming as a vicious, hairy beast dragged her towards the womping willow, its jaws clamped around her leg. Charles screamed her name as he ran after her, but the tree fought back.

Fuck, Max thought as he ran after Charles. The tree attacked them however it could, keeping them away from the tunnel the beast had dragged her down.

Charles dodged those he could, but one smacked him in the chest and he went flying back, the air knocked from his lungs when he landed. Max had gotten closer to the tunnel entrance. He jumped over the trees limbs when they came towards him, getting to the tunnel entrance in minutes.

But he couldn't leave Charles behind. The tree didn't fight him as he ran back towards him. "Come on," Max grunted, grabbing Charles's hand and pulling him to his feet.

The tree once again tried to stop them. Max kept a hold of Charles's hand, pulling him around the attacking limbs. They ducked and dodged and jumped. But one limb managed to knock them both over. Max immediately grabbed the limb and Charles grabbed a hold of him.

They were lifted into the air, the tree trying to throw them off. But it was doing do in a pattern, one Max easily deciphered. "Hold on!" He shouted to Charles, who just squeezed him tighter.

At the right moment Max let go of the branch, falling into the tunnel entrance. Charles was right behind him, landing on top of him. "Sorry," Charles said, taking his hand and helping him up. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and held it out in front of him. "Lumos," he whispered and the tunnel lit up.

Holding his wand out in front of them, Charles led the way through the tunnel. They followed paw prints until they weren't paw prints anymore, but feet, the soles of battered shoes against the dirt.

When they got to a set of old and unstable steps, Max and Charles looked at each other. She was up there, she had to be.

"Nox," Charles whispered. The first step creaked under his foot and he nervously looked to Max. But they climbed the stairs anyway. The closer they got to the top of the stairs, they more they could hear her pained gasps. The two of them hurried.

Charles couldn't stop himself from kicking the door open. "Charles, Max, no!" She cried, grasping her bloody leg. "It's a trap, he's an animagus!"

As the door swung shut behind them, Max and Charles turned around. There he was, his striped jumpsuit tattered and dirty. The smile he wore was grim and his blonde hair was long and disgusting.

Immediately, Max and Charles put their bodies between her and Rosberg. The escaped convict's smile only grew as he took a step forward. "Move aside." His eyes were focused on Max. "It's not you that I want."

But Max stood in front of them protectively. "If you want to get to either of them, you have to go through me."

Rosberg laughed. "Stupid boy," he said through his laugh. "I don't want either of them, I want him," he said, pointing at her.

Her body tembled as she held her mangled leg. The rat in her pocket was squeaking uncontrollably. "I-I'm a girl!" She cried.

But Rosberg let out an exasperated sigh. He lifted his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Professor Hamilton, that years defence against the dark arts teacher, stood in the door way. It wasn't a surprise that none of them heard him coming up the stairs, not with the way adrenaline was running through them.

Professor Hamilton looked at the kids and then at Rosberg. And then he dropped his wand and stepped forwards, pulling him into his embrace. "Good to see you, old friend," he said, clapping him on the back.

"What the fuck?" Max couldn't help himself. He held his wand out in front of him. "I trusted you, and this entire time you've been working with him? You've been on my dad's side, too?"

"Max, you don't understand," Hamilton replied, holding his hand up. "This entire time I thought that Nico did all of those terrible things. But then Charles came to me and said he saw someone on the map that I believed to be dead. Sergio Perez."

"Well, the map was wrong, then!" Charles called. He had migrated over to her, crouching by her side. She wasn't okay and there was nothing he could do.

Hamilton shook his head. "The map never lies," he said. "It could only mean one thing, Charles. That Checo was alive and he was the reason your parents are dead."

Slowly, Charles stood up. He pulled his wand from his pocket as he walked forward. "That's not true," he said. "It couldn't have been him because he died. Rosberg killed him and all they could find was-"

"A finger! Chopped it off and escaped into the sewers, he did," Rosberg finished.

Hamilton looked past them as Charles tried to process everything in his mind. "Your rat, please," said Hamilton as he looked at her.

"What? No! What do you want with him?" She cried as she pulled him from her pocket and held him close to her chest. But Professor Hamilton was still advancing, reaching for the rat.

It was Charles that stopped him. He held his hand up, asking Professor Hamilton to just give him a moment, before crouching down to her height. "Please, chérie. I need you to trust me," he said, reaching for the rat.

For just a moment, she stared at Charles. He thought he was going to have to pry the rat from her hands and lose her trust forever. But she willingly gave the rat to Charles, who handed it to Professor Hamilton.

"We do this together," said Rosberg as he grabbed his wand from the floor.

"Expelliarmus!"

Once again, Rosbergs wand went flying out of his hands. Hamilton kept ahold of the rat as they wheeled around to find the head of Slytherin house.

"I told Schumacher," Alonso began as he walked into the room. "I said from the minute you arrived that you were trouble. And here you are, helping your old friend into the castle. Well, Lewis, you can have Nico's old cell once the dementors give him that kiss. I've heard they're looking forward to it. Got a cell in the tower waiting for you."

"Oh, piss off, little Nando no mates," Nico spat, but suddenly Fernando had his wand against his neck. Instantly, Nico stilled.

Fernando turned his attention to the kids. "You three, get back to the castle."

But they weren't going anywhere. Max knew it, Charles knew it, and she couldn't move.

Fernando quickly turned his attention back to Lewis and Nico. Before he could begin talking, Charles had raised his wand. "Expelliarmus!"

It was just meant to disarm Alonso, not send him flying back into the wall, knocking him out cold. "Shit, Charles," Max said through something of a grin. "You attacked a teacher."

But Charles didn't care about that. "Show me Perez," he demanded.

Hamilton and Rosberg were only too happy to oblige. Hamilton placed the rat onto the floor. He and Rosberg pointed their wands at the rat, sending silent spells in his direction.

The rat kept going, seemingly dodging the magic. But then, he wasn’t a rat at all. It wasn't clear which one cast the incantation, but a small-ish man in tattered clothing stood in the place of the rat. The most damning piece of evidence? His missing finger.

Charles couldn't quite believe his eyes. So Rosberg hadn't been the cause of his parents death. It had been Perez all along. Rosberg was an innocent nan, wrongfully imprisoned for all of those years.

"We do this together," said Rosberg. Hamilton nodded and, together, they pointed their wands at Perez.

"No, no, no!" He cried, scurrying across the floor. He quickly moved past Charles,towards her. "Girl, sweet girl," he said as she attempted to shuffle away from him. But, with her leg, she couldn't get far enough. "You won't let them hurt me, will you?"

Max pushed Perez away from her. "Leave her alone," he said through something of a snarl.

"Don't kill him," Charles said as he looked to Hamilton and Rosberg. "Take him to the castle. The dementors can have him and you could go free," he said, eying Rosberg.

Rosberg couldn't quite believe it. He cast a spell that bound Perez and lifted Alonso into the air.

"Oh, chérie," Charles whispered. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead before lifting her into his arms. She let out a small cry as Charles adjusted her, her injured leg brushing against his arm. But she locked her arms around his neck.

Max led the way. His wand was out, light coming from it as tye group of seven made their way back through the tunnel towards the school. Periodically Max turned around, looking at Charles as he carried her. That should have been him, he thought again.

Max climbed out of the tunnel first. He turned taking her body from Charles. One by one they climbed out of the tunnel. She stood on her uninjured leg as Alonso's still unconscious body was placed on the ground. Rosberg and Hamilton wandered a little way away from the group,the two of them looking up at the castle.

"How're you feeling, chérie?" Charles asked. He hardly called her by any other name. She gave a weak, pained smile. That was all Charles needed before he was pulling her body into his own, letting her rest against him.

Suddenly, Hamilton made a noise. A low, guttural noise, something inhuman. He looked away from the castle, his jaw slack and his eyes distant as he stared at the moon. The full moon.

"Shit," Rosberg hissed. Max stood to attention, placing himself between the changing werewolf and his friends. "Lewis, not now!" Nico cried wrapping his arms around him, as if trying to hold him together. "Any time but now!"

But Hamilton was still changing. His limbs were elongating, a thin layer of hair covering his skin. His clothes were shredded from his skin as his snout formed and hid ears sharpened.

Realising that he could do nothing, Nico let go out Lewis. He transformed into his animagus form, putting himself between the werewolf and the students.

At first, Hamilton barely moved. His breathing was heavy as he took just a moment to recover from the transformation.

As best as she could, she hopped forwards. "Chérie," Charles hissed in warning, trying to keep a hold of her.

She couldn't push him away, couldn't stand on her own as she looked at the werewolf. "Professor?" She called. "Professor Hamilton?"

The beast raised its head. The howl it let out echoed around the castle grounds. It was enough to rouse Professor Alonso from his temporary time out. "You!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger at Charles. Charles, who didn't much care, Charles, who was more concerned with getting her as close to him as possible.

When Alonso turned and around saw the beast, he threw his arms protectively around the three of them, keeping them behind him. There wasn't much else he could do but watch, his body shielding them, as Nico jumped at the beast.

The werewolf immediately threw him off, but Nico came back, this time doing damage. But again, the werewolf tossed him to one side. This time, Nico didn't get back up.

With his threat neutralised, the werewolf turned his attention back to the four of them. He got down onto all fours and slowly stalked forward. His slow pace only seemed to indicate that he was toying with them, that, no matter what they did, they were his prey.

Suddenly, from way in the distance, there was a howl. Hamilton turned towards it. He howled once more himself before he took off, running in the direction the howl had come from and completely ignoring his once prey.

As soon as Hamilton was gone, Charles passed her to Max. "Get her to the hospital wing!" He shouted as he took off running.

"Leclerc!" Alonso bellowed, but he made no move to go after him. "Get back here!"

But Charles was gone, disappearing off to wherever Nico was.

Her arms locked around Max's neck as he picked her up. Suddenly he was thinking quidditch for the useful muscles it had given him. "I'm sorry to put you through all of this," she whispered as her head fell against his shoulder.

He shook his head. "You didn't put me through anything," he replied. He so desperately wanted to kiss her head like he had seen Charles do. "Besides, if I wasn't here Professor Alonso would be carrying you. Do you really want that?" He asked and she let out a little giggle.

A small amount of pride blossomed in his chest.

At the hospital wing Max was asked to leave. But he refused. There was no way in hell he was just going to leave her. It was the only time he threw his name around to get his way.

At some point in the night Charles was brought into the hospital wing. He looked awful, like he had tried to drive a race car after suffering from appendicitis. But the nurse had confirmed that he was alive.

Max didn't sleep much that night. He stayed up, watching over his friends, recounting the events. It wasn't Nico Rosberg who had killed all of those people in the name of his father. It was Sergio Perez. Perez had gotten away in the commotion of their teacher being a fucking werewolf. It was crazy, but Max didn't know how he hadn't spotted it soon. Lupin took a few days a month off, Max just didn't notice that they were around the time of a full moon.

But Perez had gotten away, his father's loyal dog had gotten away, and Max would never forgive himsed.

He didn't know when he had fallen asleep. But, when he woke up, Pierre and Esteban sat around Charles. "I can't believe you went with him instead of us," Pierre muttered as he gestured to Max. Max simply sat up straighter, scowling in return.

"He saved her," was all Charles said as he nodded towards the girl sleeping beside Max.

The three of them continued to talk, and Max tried his best not to listen in. But it was harder than it looked when he constantly heard his name being dropped. They could fucking talk about him, he didn't care. By this point, he just didn't care.

When the doors flew open and Professor Schumacher strode in, Esteban and Pierre stood up. "Esteban, Pierre," the professor said. They said goodbye to Charles and walked past their head teacher. But, before they could get too far, Professor Schumacher grabbed a hold of Pierre. What he said to Pierre was too hushed for anybody else to hear, but it had him pulling something from beneath his shirt and striding towards the boys.

"Max, Charles," he said and Max left his chair, coming to stand beside Charles. Wordlessly, Professor Schumacher placed something over their heads.

Max picked up the necklace. "A time turner?"

"What's a time turner?" Asked Charles.

But Professor Schumacher didn't answer his question. "Two turns should do it," he said. "And you should be able to set everything right. Remember, don't let anybody see you," he said and strode out of the hospital wing.

Max turned the time turner. "How on earth did Pierre get one of these?" He asked as he spun it twice, and the room around them moved backwards. Professor Alonso carried Charles out of the hospital wing and Max took her back outside. Other students came and left, time still turning around them.

When it, at last, stilled, Max pulled the time turner from around their necks and placed it in his pocket. "Come on," he said as he grabbed Charles's hand.

As he pulled him out of the hospital wing, Max checked the time on his watch. "It's 5PM, where were we at five?"

Charles took a moment to think. "Ugh, I know I was taking her down to see Zac," he answered. "She punched Nikita."

Knowing exactly where to go, Max pulled Charles along. He pulled him through the halls, towards where they already were. But, suddenly, Max stopped. "Wha-" Charles began, but Max put his hand over his mouth, silencing him as he pulled him into an alcove.

The Max from before, the one that had been following Charles and her, turned for just a second. But, when she swung at Nikita, it distracted him long enough for the Max from the future to pull Charles outside.

"Max, what the hell?" Charles hissed as they watched Nikita and his friends run away. Charles from the past had his hand on the small of her back as he moved her along, heading to Zacs, Professor Brown's, hut. Max from the past followed. "That's us!"

"You're incredibly observant," Max quipped as he grabbed his hand once more. "I suppose you can see now you've cut your hair."

Charles let out a scoff, but Max was pulling him along once again, into the woods just opposite Zac's hut.

Nobody saw them, nobody but Rocky, the hippogriff. He raised his head and snorted, but quickly went back to sleep. "We can save him, too," Charles realised. "Him and Nico."

He strode forward and sent to grab the chain that kept Rocky tethered to the garden, but Max stopped him. "Professor Schumacher and the minister need to see him first, or you'll get Fred arrested," he whispered. Charles clenched his fists at his sides, but he nodded.

They watched as Fred pulled the rat from the box and handed it to her. There he was, Sergio Perez. Max and Charles looked at each other, their thoughts much the same. But they held back, and not just because the headmaster and the minister were coming.

They watched as the three of them left the hut. As the minister and Schumacher conversed with Fred, Charles and Max ran into the vegetable garden and grabbed a hold of Rocky's chain. "Come on, Rocky," Charles hissed, but the creature insisted on sleeping. It was only when Max bribed him with food that he followed them into the woods.

A sliver of satisfaction ran through them when the execution brought his axe down onto a bit of wood in anger. Rocky was safe, and all they had to do was wait.

It was surreal, watching everything that had happened. They watched as Nico, the dog, grabbed her leg and dragged her beneath the tree. They watched as they struggled to follow her.

"Can I ask you something?" Max enquired as he sat on the ground beside him. Rocky was behind them, playing in the trees. When Charles nodded his head, he continued. "Last year, you asked me if I opened the chamber. Do you really think I'm that much of a monster? Do you really think I'm that much like my dad?"

Charles let out an audible sigh. "I feel awful for that," he said as he lent back against the tree behind him. "All I know about your dad is that he's the reason my parents are dead. I'd met him in first year and, well, I still have nightmares about it. Of I had known you last year like I do now, I wouldn't have dreamed of blaming you."

They talked, actually talked, until Professor Hamilton came to the tree. "Did you have any idea he was a werewolf?" Max asked and Charles shook his head.

He pulled the time turner from his pocket. "Do you know why Pierre would have that?" Charles asked as he reached out to touch it.

Max shrugged his shoulders. "It makes sense, though. Pierre has been in so many classes this year, more than he should have had time for. This must be how he's being going to them all."

Next, Professor Alonso came by, and then, minutes later, they were all making their way out of the tree. "Thanks for looking after her," said Charles as he watched himself hand her to Max.

Max waved him off.

But it wasn't long before Professor Hamilton started his transformation. "Fuck," Max whispered as he watched Nico try and fail to protect them. What happened when they were up there? Something had howled, but no howl was coming. "Shit, get ready to run," he said to Charles before cupping his hands around his mouth and letting out a mighty howl.

The werewolf looked, but he didn't immediately begin running towards them. So, Max did it again.

The beast howled back and suddenly it was running towards them. "We're going to die out here," said Charles.

"Yep," Max agreed and the two boys took off running. But they didn't get very far, not before the werewolf caught up to them.

Their hearts were beating, blood so loud in their ears that they were sure the werewolf could hear them. Max squeezed his eyes shut, unable to keep them opened. He was incredibly grateful when Charles pulled him further around the tree they were hiding behind.

All they could hear was their werewolf Professor sniffing around behind them. It was the only indication that they were somewhat safe. But then, the sniffing stopped and the growls began. The two turned, almost paralysed with fear as the werewolf stood to its full height. "Professor," Charles began, but he was no longer human.

He moved towards them and they tried to back up. He raised a large, clawed hand, but he didn't get a chance to bring it down, to strike them. Not before Rocky jumped in front of them, using his large talons to fend off the beast.

Whimpering, the werewolf ran off. "Go Rocky!" Charles called as the hippogriff pranced in front of him.

Max checked the time on his watch. "Come on," he said, once again reaching for Charles's hand. Over the course of the evening he'd noticed just how much he'd enjoyed that, enjoyed holding Charles's hand. "We've got to get back to the castle."

But Charles ripped his hand away from Max. "We need to go and save Nico!" He called before he took off running. "Someone was there, Max! Someone cast a patronus and fended off the dementors! I need to know who it is!"

But, when they got to the lake, nobody was there. Just Charles from the past cradling Nico's body as dementors fed off of them. "Charles!" Max called.

"They're coming to help! I know they are!"

But Charles from the past and Nico looked terrible, close to the end. "Charles, you're dying. And nobody's coming," he said softly.

Charles bit his lip as he looked at Max. He sucked in one steady breath and ran over to the edge of the lake. He raised his wand, drew in a deep breath and bellowed, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

It was an incredible sight. Max knew Charles was capable of some serious magic, he just didn't realise it was this serious. All of the dementors left the scene just in time for Professor Alonso to lift the unconscious Charles and Nico away from the scene.

Nico, they could still save Nico. "Come on!" Charles shouted as he climbed onto Rocky's back. Taking Max's hand, he pulled him onto Rocky's back and he secured his arms around him.

Rocky flew them out of the woods. "Where would Alonso put Nico?" Max shouted over the sounds of the wind.

"When we were in the shack, he said something about the tower," Charles called back.

That was exactly where Rocky took them. As he landed them outside of the cell, Max slipped from Rocky's back and cast a spell to open the door.

Immediately, Nico ran out to them. "Thank you," he said to them. "Both of you. If it wasn't for your bravery, I would have lost my life."

"Quick, take Rocky and go, before the dementors come," Charles said. He helped Nico onto the Hippogriff's back. Immediately they took off, and Charles and Max began running, heading back to the hospital wing.

When they got there, Professor Schumacher was pulling the doors shut behind him. "We did it," said Charles, his hands on his knees. "We saved both of them."

Professor Schumacher looked at the both of them. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said and took his leave, leaving the boys standing there.

Charles released a breath. "I can't believe we actually did it," he said, grinning at Max. "Should we go and tell her all about it?"

Max nodded his head and Charles pushed his way into the hospital wing. He watched, frozen in place as he strode across the room, over to her. Suddenly, Max didn't feel so jealous as he watched Charles run his fingers through her hair.

That was when he realised, he liked boys, too.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @not-nyasa @formulaal @minseok-smaus @andydrysdalerogers @hiireadstuff @darleneslane @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo

[mistydeyes]

the butterfly effect: you die because of their actions

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summary: The butterfly effect "the idea that small things can have non-linear impacts on a complex system. The concept is imagined with a butterfly flapping its wings and causing a typhoon." Everyone never believed the saying, that was until you died at the hands of your love.

pairing: 141 x fem!Reader

warnings: SWEARING, character death (previously established relationship)

a/n: my first angst piece for the rest of the 141!

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price

Price's mind raced as he shoved the doors open to the post-operation recovery wing. If he had known you would end up on the end of a gun, he would have never put you in this position. He never would have introduced you to General Shepherd.

When you met John, still known as a Lieutenant at the time, you were a First Lieutenant in the US Marine Corps. You were an expert at planning travel and assault routes and the SAS used your skills to their advantage. You worked together in a joint-op in Canada, one that required you both to find refuge in a snowed-out cabin. No one was surprised when you both emerged as a couple. Now after 13 years of dating and a happy marriage, you lived a comfortable life together. You had two daughters, both away in college, and lived close to Price's home in England. You made sacrifices, dividing your time in the English countryside with an apartment in DC.

Price was away on a mission as you sat in your countryside home. Last you heard, he was in Amsterdam with Sergeant Garrick. He was unreachable but you knew there was a fair share of times when you had the same status. Laswell had informed you that something had gone on with his unit and after reassuring you John was safe, she encouraged you to stay low in your home. You informed your daughters and they would soon be escorted to your house. Laswell had arranged a security detail for you and you sat at your living room table with a concealed firearm for protection.

As you tried to drink some tea, a series of knocks were heard from the door. You recognized it and holstered your gun as you answered. You opened the door to reveal General Shepherd, an old friend that John had introduced you to at a military ball. "General Shepherd, what a pleasant surprise," you said as you ushered him in, "can I get you anything?" "Just some water if you don't mind, Captain," he said and followed you into the kitchen. As you turned your back to him, he made polite conversation. "Captain, you didn't tell John about the op in the Middle East, right?" he asked and you remembered providing input on a cargo route earlier last year. "Of course not, General," you answered as you finished pouring the glass." "Then no harsh feelings, Captain," was the last thing you heard before you fell against the counter, a bullet lodged in the back of your head.

Back to the present time, Price shoved past the queue and slammed his fists on the receptionist's table. Laswell informed him that he was needed at the hospital immediately as you were in critical condition. He had taken the first flight home from Chicago and was now helplessly begging to see you. "Where is my wife?" he roared as the nurse sheepishly asked him for the name of the patient. "Captain Y/N Price," he said and she quickly typed it in for him. "She's not here, sir," she said quietly as he shook with rage, "she's in the morgue."

Your funeral came with all the proper traditions for a Captain. As the decorated Marines played Taps and folded a US flag, Price held onto your daughters' hands tightly. As a soldier presented him with the flag and your dog tags, he broke down in tears as your daughters joined. The last Price saw of you was your casket being lowered into the Arlington dirt.

As Price prepared to finally kill General Shepherd, he clutched your dog tags and wedding ring close to his neck. He pulled out a picture of you and your wedding day and kissed it before heading to finally end the bastard.

soap

After months of waiting the day was finally here. You and Johnny were expecting your first child after trying for so long. As you rested in a recliner, he had decorated the nursery with all the preparations for a newborn. You decided on a space theme for their room and Johnny would call the baby "our little astronaut." For the last month before you were due, Price let Johnny head home to be with you as he had known this is when you needed him most. When your water broke that morning, Johnny quickly rushed you to the hospital. The baby was two weeks early and you could feel the painful contractions as you entered the delivery room. You were in agonizing pain as the doctors delivered an epidural. Johnny could only watch helplessly as you were in labor for 10 hours.

He held your hand tightly as you screamed. "I see a head!" the doctor exclaimed and the nurses encouraged you to continue pushing. Even with the epidural, you felt dizzy and your eyes watered from the torment of childbirth. The room smelled of iron and blood as it pooled around your body. The doctor's hands were coated in the red liquid as you continued to push. "Almost there, love," Johnny reassured you as his hands turned white from your grip. "She's coming out beautifully, Mrs. Mactavish," the doctor reassured. "You hear that, it's a girl," Johnny exclaimed, "she's going to have my charm and your looks." You gave him a weak smile as the doctor updated him on how far out the baby was.

Finally, as the child exited into the doctor's arms, you released Johnny's hand. You slumped back into the bed as a nurse tended to your sweating face with a washcloth. The doctor delicately wiped the baby and swaddled her in a fresh blanket. "You can cut the umbilical cord, Dad," another nurse said as your baby girl cried. "Hi little one" he whispered as he cut the umbilical cord. He held her small hands with his and went to give her to you. But as soon as he turned, he saw your face was ghostly white. The monitor loudly beeped as the nurses and doctor began to panic. "She's losing a lot of blood," the doctor said as the room was thrown into chaos. Your vitals were beginning to drop and a nurse screamed for a crash cart. The delivery unit's PA system informed other attending nurses of a Code Blue and a variety of new staff rushed into the room. "Sir, you need to leave," a nurse demanded as he saw someone perform chest compressions. "She's not breathing," someone else yelled and Johnny tried to fight his way to the front. Everything was happening in slow motion as he held the baby close and saw you convulse under the shocks of a defibrillator.

"What's happening to her?" he demanded before he was shoved into the hallway. The nurses quickly closed the curtains as Johnny pounded on the glass. His hand grew numb as he fell defeated with your daughter in his arms. After 5 minutes, the doctor emerged. "You better tell me right fucking now what's going on," Johnny screamed at her. "I'm sorry sir, she's gone," she said and he could barely hear her say that you flatlined after a tremendous loss of blood. When she finished, he broke down and let the entire hospital hear his cries and screams.

As he cradled your daughter's head, the baby wailed and Soap joined his heartbroken song. A new life in exchange for one lost.

gaz

"Kyle, I don't know about this," you said as you boarded the plane. "C'mon love, teenage recruits do this," he encouraged as you both strapped in. Kyle had heard about a skydiving experience and convinced you to go. He used the fact that it was his birthday and you swallowed your doubts about flying. As the plane ascended, you gripped his hand tightly. You always had a fear of flying and even had a psychic tell you that flying would be involved with your death. Kyle comfortingly drew circles on your hands as you approached the descent level.

“Alright, flyers! It’s almost time!” you heard the pilot announce through the cabin. Kyle helped you unbuckle and guided you to the tandem diver. He introduced you both and the tandem diver promised a safe descent. “This is my 1000th flight, doll, you’ll be fine,” he reassured and helped to strap you in. You smiled nervously as Kyle similarly strapped into his flyer. He insisted you take a picture together as you shakily gave a thumbs up.

“Here we go!” Kyle’s tandem flyer shouted and they leapt out of the airplane. You tried not to look down as you swallowed your fear. You then felt your legs leave the plane as you and your flyer jumped into the sky. As you felt the rush of air on your face, you kept your eyes shut closed. “Look at me baby!” you heard Kyle shout and you peeked through your fluttering eyelids to see him smiling widely and holding his arms out. You tried to emulate his actions but as you looked up at your flyer, you could see him panic.

Something was wrong as Gaz also saw that your parachute had not yet deployed. He saw the tandem diver struggle to deploy the reserve but that too seemed to fail. He screamed at you as you both flew closer and closer to the ground. You looked up at him in fear and tried to reach out before gravity and the lack of a chute pulled you forcefully to the Earth's surface.

Gaz could only watch helplessly as you and your guide plummeted to the ground. He let out a flood of tears and screams but they too fell and followed along with your deadly descent.

ghost

Ghost watched in horror as two people sat next to one another on a platform. From what he could see, one of the people was a clear head taller than the other and they squirmed in their bindings. Their heads were covered in burlap and they both were sporting matching jackets that hit their figure. "Make the choice, Simon," Makarov said as his voice crackled through the comms, "your wife or best friend." Ghost's eyes dilated in horror as he realized Makarov's implications. "Before you try to be the hero, just know that I'm watching you," he taunted and Ghost knew there was no way out.

His mind flooded with any possible solution but he could not find any. This was supposed to be an easy fucking recon mission that only he and Johnny had to handle. Now he was without allies, without options, and an alternative plan. He shakily put his hand on the sniper's trigger as he fluctuated between looking at you and Soap. Beads of sweat pooled at his neck as he tried to think of any way to get you both out of this alive.

"Time is ticking, Simon," Makarov spoke again, "If you don't choose, they'll both die." That moment, two fluorescent dots appeared on your heads and he knew that somewhere two snipers were ready to take you both out if he didn't decide. Ghost's mind was clouded, he wondered if there was any way to save both of you but came up empty. The deadline and the thrashing of the two figures under their restraints made him finally decide. He made the most difficult decision of his life, he would save you instead of Soap. He couldn't live without you.

He said a silent prayer for his friend as he lined his sights. "Just stay still, Johnny," he painfully whispered as you both fought against your bindings. He knew a bullet straight through the heart would result in a quick and painless death. He held his breath as the gun fired, making a direct target with the body. It fell back in with a sickening thump and Ghost dropped the gun before rushing towards you.

Makarov was always one step ahead of the team. Ghost ran to the scene to see that the chair's size had deceived his eyes. One of the people who Ghost had assumed was taller than the other, was sitting on an elevated crate. The other figure thrashed about but Ghost was more focused on the one in front of him. As he went to pull the bag over what he believed was Soap's body, he was horrified to discover it was you, a single gunshot through the heart. A bullet he had sent into you. You died choking on your blood because of his actions.

As Ghost clutched your body in agony, his tears and screams echoed in the empty lot. In his haste, he had killed you and was now alone again in the world.

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[ashthenerd]

I saw that the number of followers that I have on here is double the amount of people that I follow, and I was going to make a thing saying "what are yous all doing here🤣🤣🤣" but then I remembered that most of the people that are following me are doing it because that way it is harder for them to be ignored when they are begging for their lives so that they and their family won't be fucking bombed to death. And I'm a minor so I'm not able to give them a single cent. So here's all of their fundraisers

It's not letting me save this whenever I add the shehab family but please try to help them, I will queue posts for them daily so that they are easy to find

[fanby-fckry]

Throwing this in the queue, because I don’t want it to look like I’m vagueing (technically I am, but this is also a general vent and psa).

I genuinely hate it when people say “delulu.” I think it dilutes the meaning of the word (both the butchered spelling and the way it trivializes delusions), and as someone with psychosis + delusions, it irks me to no end.

I’ve seen it used both in wildly inappropriate ways (e.g. people calling themselves delusional/delulu for shipping non-canon ships) and in technically correct ways that are just… Off. Ways that make me suspect the person using the word doesn’t actually understand what delusions are, and are pop psych-ing their blorbos with no research or lived experience.

For the record, I’m not knocking people who project their symptoms onto fictional characters or who reclaim ableist/saneist language, and because I cannot definitively tell who is projecting/reclaiming, and who is talking out of their ass, I would never call out anyone in particular.

I don’t support gatekeeping, censorship, or callout posts, which is why I’m posting like this rather than naming names or pettily reporting people for ableism/hate-speech when it’s likely they just don’t know any better, or that I’m the one missing context. And I know that trying to forcefully censor anything regarding marginalized groups is likely to come back around to bite the same group in the ass.

That being said, I am begging non-delusional people to please put some thought into the words that you use and the way you portray/talk about delusions in fiction and in daily life.

Content Warning: unreality/talk of specific delusions; if you suffer from delusions and find your symptoms worsen when hearing details of others’ delusions, I recommend scrolling.

I’ve struggled with delusions regarding “mind readers” for about as long as I can remember, often becoming extremely distressed by the idea that someone in the room could be reading my thoughts, to the point of creating mental mantras to distract/overwhelm potential mind readers and repeating them over and over again in my head, screaming them with my inner voice.

It’s gotten a lot better with time and therapy, but there was a time where I had persistent thoughts of, “what if somebody can hear this?” and spent 30+ minutes straight addressing potential mind readers via thoughts.

I took “thought crime” to the extreme. I genuinely believed that at any time, there could be someone who might hear my thoughts and judge/punish me for them.

I have a similar delusion that still plagues me to this fucking day, where I believe that anything I say out loud can be heard, even if I’m alone. Who hears it? That’s not specified. It’s some nebulous ‘someone,’ but for some reason, they terrify me. There are times where I physically cannot bring myself to speak because I’m afraid that the ‘someone’ will hear.

Being a crackshipper who understands that your ship will never be canon but likes to play pretend is in no way comparable to experiencing delusions. Trust me, I’ve got both!

I’d also like to talk about using “delulu” to refer to delusions of grandeur in fandom.

Disclaimer: I don’t have a whole lot of personal experience with delusions of grandeur (I experience some fleeting instances of grandiosity, but not really to the point that it significantly affects my life), so if I say anything inaccurate or insensitive, please, please feel free to correct me.

It feels like delusions of grandeur are highly misunderstood and trivialized even moreso than other types of delusions.

Having a skewed sense of self can cause major problems in a person’s social/interpersonal life, cause an increase in risk-taking behavior which can but their health and their life in danger, and is often the result of trauma. Yes, this includes delusions of grandeur!

If you’re calling your blorbo “delulu” for having a grandiose view of themselves, please take a moment to ask yourself how this trait affects them, and how your description of it might sound to the real life people reading it, especially if this isn’t your experience.

Again, I cannot stop you. Not without potentially hampering the ability of delusional people to talk about our symptoms, scaring off questioning and self-diagnosed folks, and inciting infighting. And even then, I don’t think it’d truly scrub every use of the word.

But at least think about what I’ve said here. Pretty please?

[piillow]

xdinary heroes as your younger sibling

(7-8 year age gap)

wc : ??? | genre : short imagines, silly stuff really | a/n : NO i did NOT take things me and my very much older sibling do irl and assigned them to xdh members NOOOO...

(∩^o^)⊃━☆

GUNIL 건일

he'll pretend to not care about you when you're both at home

but will praise you like his life depended on it if he was talking to his friends or at school

SO SWEETTTT i could cry

gives you silly gifts for your birthday so he can see you smile :')

especially if you've been out of it for a while

moving out for college.......

he's definitely gonna shed a few tears on the car ride home

i can picture it tbh

LOVES when you play videogames with him too

and if he sleeps in your room overnight he'll call them "sleepovers" LMAOO

he'd be so cute omfg

JUNGSU 정수

will cling to you 24/7. oh my goodness he's like the most adorable leech you've ever seen

at home? probably sitting next to you. in public? holding your hand and swinging your arms.

so cute tho like cmon 😭

he would also defo ask you to help him with his homework

"you're gonna teach it to me better :(" WHAT IF I CRIED

omg GRADUATIONS?

he's gonna scream his whole lungs out when your name is called, and will not gaf if anyone stares at him

AND WILL SPRINT TO YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE THE CEREMONY (and cling to you while probably crying LMAO)

oh he'd also pretend to out you to your parents but... your parents aren't actually gonna yell at you

they're gonna pretend to, but they don't mean anything lol

GAON 가온

LMAOO he's gonna take one look at your [whatever highschool level subject] homework and say

"oh! let me help you!" in the CUTEST voice ever 😭

but then he'll actually look at it and say "ummm this is too hard... nevermind... sorry.. :(" queue my sobs

BUT he will beg you to help him with his homework LMAOO

... then you end up doing all of it for him (。_。)

anyways, you got a school event? sports game/competition? musical performance?

he'll be there! every single one.

and will also cheer for you the loudest :)

ohhh and also if your parents aren't home and it's almost your dinner time he will set the table and wait for you to come eat with him

what if i cry in a hole 😭

ODE 오드

the most adorable leech you've ever seen number two

also yaps about you to his friends a lot LMAOO

literally about almost anything you do

"omg guys guess what y/n got a 100 on their test!" "... okay?"

will lowkey (high key) get defensive if someone starts saying something barely negative about you

he can also not talk to you at home

like... he can't go a few hours without doing it

he'll talk to you about his day at school, practices, etc. and give you every little detail he remembers

and when he gets a phone, he'll spam you texts when he's free and hope you reply

but like... who wouldn't tho?

he also buys lots of things that remind him of you, and eventually a tattoo when he's older (like how he did with his family <3)

JUNHAN 준한

likes spending time with you a lot, even if you two aren't talking to each other

just working on your homework with him there is nice for the both of you

a very comforting silence :)

LMAO he also will sometimes hide from you when you come home so you have to play hide and seek with him

... and then you two will end up playing it outside for like two hours

omg NOOO if you get sick he will be so sad :(

"y/n... who will i play hide and seek with now?" OHHH MY GOD 😭

and if you're crying for whatever reason...

he'll feel his heart break a little too :(

(why did i end this one so sadly im so sorry??)

JOOYEON 주연

teasing MACHINE 9000 oh my god

will tease you for everything you do

you dropped your hairbrush?

"HAHAHAAA y/n remember that one time you dropped your hairbrush"

yeah... that.

he'll also bang on the bathroom door if you take too long

"Y/NNNN HURRY UPPP I NEED TO BRUSH MY TEETH" 😭

spam texter number two, except his goal is to piss you off

if you send him a dry af response he will know because he'll hear your attitude through the screen

but if he's out with friends he'll send you random pictures of things that remind him of you

(and he'll keep them in a folder in his camera roll <3)

send requests........ please....... rules are here!

[lovezbrownies]

ngl, I kinda wanna see a yandere pop idol now, I think it'll be interesting. I already formed a scenario, lol.

An adored pop idol who is a member of a popular girl group meets her darling at a fan signing event. However, curiously, unlike all the other fans, darling didn't seem like they wanted to be there and just radiated apathy and crippling depression, and they called her by her real name instead of her stage/nickname

"Oh, wow! Are you a student? Judging by that uniform, you must've come here after school! Thank you so much for supporting our music! UwU 🥰"

"Can you stop, please?"

"H-Huh..?"

"Sorry, can you just please sign my book so I can get home already?"

"O-Oh! Sure thing! 🥰would you mind telling me your name?"

"No."

Oomf. Anon. YOURE A GENIUSSSSUSU i love you is that ok I'm sorry

BUT i fucking lovee this idea, I've been wanting to write for a new character and try something new AND THIS IS ITTT

so what im thinking of is like, such a cutie patootie but cucoo in the head ya know? most of my characters are like that but i feel like

she's going to be the "oh my good I'm sooo luckkyy!!! look how cute they are omg" fangirl type of yandere ya know?

I was thinking of either making her a k-pop idol or a pop idol similar to maddison beer or Sabrina carpenter i have to think!

Pop idol who has hundreds of thousands of stans only to stan a nobody like you.. Like she has a shrine dedicated to you she pray over every day like this is A-level type of yandere...

So imagine her shock when she sees you at a fan signing her group's hosting, she damn near faints and begs for you to look in her direction one more time!

And when you line up to her queue? To see her?! She goes fucking crazy, stumbling as she signs whatever shit every other unworthy fan wants her to sign, mumbling and barely replying in anticipation for your turn, only for you to look so... Unhappy to be there? What? Maybe you're just like her! Maybe you wanted this to be one on one! Not with a hundred other people! She can arrange that don't worry! She will have everyone kicked out of the venue if you dare so ask.

Finally come your turn only for you to be so dismissive of her and her presence... Do you... Do you hate her? Do you not remember her from high school? Are you only here to get something signed only to sell it for hundreds on the internet later?

And when she questions you, you reply almost with a hostile tone, "I'm only here to get this signed for my friend, she got sick before she could get to this stupid signing and begged me to do it for her... I don't like you or your company."

Ynadere pop idol goes into shock as you snatch the autographed copy of her photo and zoom to the next booth. You.. You have a friend? A female friend? That you'd do anything for? Even over something you... You hate? Why would you hate her? She hasn't done anything wrong! Sure she may have collaborated with a company that partakes in animal testing but she didn't know that when she signed the contract! And she's only doing that to get paid! You'd do anything for a check!

The next few weeks she obsessed over every minscule detail in your life as she stalks you even worse than before, your underwair now hanging high and mighty at the top of her shrine for you. Of course with her popularity she managed to whisk you away from your life of depression and anxiety to her penthouse! Don't worry darling~ she'll spoil you to the ends of the earth!

I will write more of this like a full fledged fic oomf let me just write something for Grim cuz I miss his muscular twinkie ass

[jauffre]

ELDER SCROLLS ONLINE: LOADING SCREENS

↳ PLAYER HOUSING [5/8]

[sotwk]

Writers Truth or Dare Ask Game - SotWK Answers

Link to game is HERE,

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I was in 4th grade and my friends and I really wanted to date the Backstreet Boys. We discovered fanfiction was the most fun way to do it. We would write our lil’ self-insert love stories in notebooks that we would pass around and share. 

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Pumped Up Pop. I’m a 90s kid and Pop runs deep in me. 

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don’t think anything can be considered weird for a writer doing research anymore. But one thing I remember working extra hard on was researching how to pilot a jet for a Marvel action fic. That’s why I admire and commiserate with @scyllas-revenge for her helicopter piloting scene in BLCI. 

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 

Mix of both. Reader Inserts to make others happy, OC fics to make myself happy. 

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I would write an entire essay explaining this one, but in the SotWK AU, Elvenking Thranduil and Elvenqueen Maereth are metaphorical avatars for the Valar couple Oromë and Vána, and were destined to be such (as they were destined for each other). The qualities they each possess which make them similar to these Valar--Thranduil's strength and skill as a protector/warrior and Maereth's gifts for nurturing and fertility--are what safeguard and sustain Eryn Galen for thousands of years, holding their people fast even against Sauron.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 

@talesfuzzy is constantly on my notifs since she likes so many of my posts on a daily basis. She also reblogs some of the best Tolkien content, which I often put into my own queue. We don't really talk, but she's like that friendly person you see on your daily commute whose name you might not know but you smile and nod to each other till they've become a comfortingly reliable part of daily life.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I would LOVE a thrilling action fic where Thranduil and all five Thranduilion Princes march into battle at the same time and completely crush the enemy because there is possibly no greater or more fearsome fighting team left in Middle-earth. However, such a plot would violate my own AU’s headcanon, because in Thranduil’s family, there is a hard rule that the Thranduilions can never all be fighting in the same battle at once; Thranduil simply refuses to risk his family that way. 

I would hire/nominate/beg @ass-deep-in-demons to write it. If you’ve read her fic, “Under Our Darkening Skies”, you’ll know she’s the top pick for incredible and cinematic battle scenes. 

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

I find myself reusing a lot of the same lines and expressions, especially when describing character emotions and actions. Sometimes I feel my writing is pedestrian and boring, especially compared to many other writers in the Tolkien fandom who have such eloquent, sophisticated styles and brilliant, creative word choices. I'm quite soppy and sentimental too, but that's just my thing. 

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

Sadly, I have not had a pet since my early 20s. I had plenty of them growing up, though, including my beloved yellow Lab. Once my kids are old enough to share in pet care duties, we are definitely getting a dog. 

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Talk to me about my Thranduilion Princes, pretty please! (There are many easy ways to be Moots with me, but this is a guarantee and the fastest way!)

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

I am lucky and grateful to have a solid band of supporters, but I want to grab this chance to send a special shout out to @achromaticerebus. She has been a big supporter of my Thranduilion Princes since she discovered them early on, she comments on ALL my Thranduil/Thranduilion stories, she gushes about them to me and with me, and her enthusiasm just keeps me motivated. She is not herself a writer, and it's so rare to find a friend so willing to just be a reader and supporter, when there's really no way to “pay back” her kindness.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Point out even just one specific detail or line of dialogue and tell me how it made you feel, your thoughts about it, or even ask a follow up question! I am most impressed when a Reader points out an Easter egg or interesting tidbit/headcanon/lore I included. I am over the moon when their comments show they are familiar with my other fics or my SotWK AU as a whole… it means they've really invested in my stuff.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

I enjoy being wholly surprised (good surprises, of course), but I don't like being told “a surprise is coming” and having to then think about it or stress out until its arrival. 

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

A work-related reminder, which is boring. So I'm gonna answer this question by sharing something I wrote in my “Scratch Dump” document that I use for my headcanon drafting: Inscribed on the blade of the sword was Mirion’s personal oath to his people, written in Silvan: “Until my last breath, I will serve.”

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

It’s probably because I’m fairly new to it (and because I enjoy the song/video), but the concept of internet friends Rickrolling each other as a prank seems so funny and wholesome to me.  

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I made a separate post answering this HERE.

Thank you to all my awesome friends who jumped in to send me these Asks! This was fun and made me feel good about myself as a writer. Love you guys! 

@lady-of-imladris @erathene @unethicallypleistocene @fishing4stars @Hobbitwrangler @quillofspirit @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @niennawept @malzenn @melpomaenofimladris and that one Anon friend!

[unpopularbunny]

💥 BANGS POTS AND PANS 💥

COME AND GET YALL SUPPER!!!

🗿 Hey hows it goin, I'm super late to filling out my poll queue, sincerest apologies to all my baby girls out there who's been putting up w me. So heres fic 1 of 4 from my poll (the poll in question). This is gonna b kinda short and brief because I have a whole series planned for dragon king rengoku, I wrote it out a year ago and when me and my bf rearranged our apartment I accidently put the notebook it was in, in a box in the closet of the spare bedroom. Anyway I know yall dont wanna hear about all that.

Info: Smut ahead! cunnilingus and all that good shit I be doin.

Minors: The bell dont dismiss you, I do, and ur DISMISSED. 💃

Lmk if u lookin for a pt 2, either way I'll be turning this into a series soooooo peace! 🦧

You were as educated as one could be about the Dragon people before your first night with him.

Especially on how sex with his kind was to go, but you're not like him, and even you had to learn new things.

You're human, more fragile.

and much, much smaller than he.

You had been educated in their heat cycles, said cycles usually taking place during fall or spring.

It was one such spring night when you returned to your shared bedroom.

Spring was almost over actually, the room was warmer than usual and Kyojuro had yet to return from whatever business had called him earlier that day.

You changed and slipped into bed and fingered some bland fairytale novel your sister had recommended, your eyelids grew heavy and you fell asleep.

The dream you had was...well...You actually don't recall seeing anything in the dream.

Just the sensations.

Something slick and wet, hot, heavy.

Your eyes snapped open, the room was much more humid and you felt so sticky. The candle you had been used for reading had burned itself out after you fell asleep.

You could see the moonlight spilling in from the open balcony where the landing pad was, you left it open incase Kyojuro returned while you were asleep.

Something shifts and your eyes dart between your legs and your eyes meet with the glowing eyes of the king himself.

He's lapping at your slowly, lewdly, not breaking eye contact.

He tilts his head and brushes his cheek against your inner thigh.

"M-My lord? What are you doi-" One of his hands comes up to press his pointer finger against your lips to hush you and lifts his head from between your legs.

"Just us here my sweet wife, you remember my name, yes?" His voice has an edge to it, as if hes begging you to say his name, he withdraws his hand.

"k-Kyojuro-Oh!" He shoves his face right back against your sex, his tongue is always so very pleasantly long. His hands are between your legs as well, pressed against your thighs and pressing you as open as he can. His tongue is as deep as he can get it and you can feel the way he's absolutely devouring you.

Something doesn't seem right.

You grip at the sheets, he's relentless and merciless.

You're gasping out his name when you cum and in the heat of the moment your hands fly out and grab his spiraling horns, gripping them tightly.

When you finally let go, he's ontop of you so fast and your wrists are in his hand and pinned above your head.

"I ache, dear sweet wife of mine" You can feel it throb against you, "I thought you learned not to touch the horns of a beast," He leans down to your ear, "Especially the horns of a beast in heat."

He pulls back and smiles but when he opens his mouth and talks, smoke spills from his lips.

This is a warning.

Dragons are vulnerable during heat cycles, grabbing the horns of one suck dragon is a blatant physical challenge for dominance. Even if this is not the intention, it triggers some kind of subconscious reaction.

"I didn't meant to-" His wings spread out and gods you're so thankful for how large and open the bedroom is, "I'm terribly sorry (y/n), but I can't let this go." This is...Dangerous.

Not because kyo would hurt you, never, but usually during his head cycle, he distances himself from you completely because of a different reason.

His knot.

You've seen it but never taken it.

"I just wanted to taste you so badly," He whines, leaning in to kiss your neck, "I wasn't going to do anything to you." He's biting now.

"But now I have to defend my honor as King."

Oh barnacles.

[torchwood-99]

Gwen and Ianto and Comic Con

Ok ok, here we go, I'm gonna try and remember everything of what was possibly the most important moment of my life.

So we got there as soon as it opened (actually had to wait forty five minutes before they let anyone in) and after mooching about a bit, getting our bearings, we saw people lining up at the Eve Myles queue (me and my sister) so we got our tickets out and joined up.

The queue was fairly short, but still longer compared to almost everyone else, later on it would stretch out really far. I actually saw Gareth first, because I couldn't see Eve at first in the queue, whereas I saw Gareth arrive and set up. My sister was very smug because he made eye contact with her and smiled When I caught sight of her, my heart leaped. She was soooo beautiful! We get to the front of the queue and got our stuff out.

We got to the front, and she was so nice and friendly. TBH, my sister and I were freaking out a little bit, and I just babbled about how long I have loved Torchwood, while my sister just stood there and smiled awkwardly She shook our hands twice, and talked about cold it was, and how she was wearing her 'captain jack coat' to keep warm. (it was a very nice coat) I mentioned to her how thrilled I was about her coming back to Big Finish, and this was interesting....

She said it took her by surprise, that announcement, because the recording for it actually happened literal YEARS ago Before her babies, before the pandemic! So when the news came out she had to remember what it was.

She shook our hands again, and then I ran and hugged my dad like a little girl who had been given a sticker in school, I was freaking out. We got that done quite early, so we wouldn't have to stress about missing out, and before the line got too long

Then at a quarter past one, roughly, we headed over to the Q&A area so this was in the open, against a wall, near some of the stalls, which made it easy to hang around

We actually caught the end of the Star Wars panel and saw the guy who plays Chewbacca!

The panel was meant to start at half one but it actually took place at quarter to two, but they still gave us the first half hour (and that gave me time to eat the burger my dad grabbed me while my sister and I waited for seats)

Then Eve and Gareth came out. Can't remember the name of the moderator but he was really nice, he was a Doctor of something, and I really liked him. I vaguely recognised him and he said he has moderated Torchwood panels before. He was very funny

Right then, the good stuff They got to the crowd Q&A very quickly Although the moderator talked up Gareth and Eve first, really gushing over Eve and her achievements right now and talking about Gareth's background in theatre.

Gareth made a funny crack about how he got a job at the bar in the National Theatre, hoping it would help him get a foot in the door, only to be blacklisted (i think he was joking)

Right questions. So there were typical questions, like most fun episode to shoot. They both said countrycide, and apologised because they always say that. Eve said something like it being awkward going to the countryside, after saying they're all cannibals. Gareth said the truth hurts.

Another favourite filming memory, was filming in Doctor Who together, when they were facing the Daleks. They said they were literally trapped in the Hub, and lived off Gregs. They ate loads of bean and cheese bakes. By the end, they were begging to be let out, and said they were really seeing Daleks!

Then they were asked what the worst episode to shoot was. Gareth says his was filming Adam, when he was sat in the alley way, wailing and rocking backwards and forwards while a rain machine came down on him. Apparently they couldn't get the take right and had to keep shooting it. The moderator asked if John was behind the camera, making them film it again and again. Gareth said it wouldn't surprise him.

Eve said hers was filming that bit in COE, where she was running through the field, being chased by soldiers, carrying the little girl. She said she rehearsed running in her boots all over Cardiff. She went running in her swanky boots, and joggers and hoody, looking 'insane'.

She said that she didn't account for how muddy the field was. She was running, when she heard her hip pop.

She was swearing, dealing with pain, while trying to keep the little girl's ears covered.

She said people have come to her that day with the COE DVD to sign, and on the back is an image of the exact moment her hip popped. After the shoot ended, she went to the hospital.

Another moment was filming the beach chase scene in Miracle Day Apparently it was minus 14 degrees, and they were zooming along, Eve wearing only a blouse and jacket. Mekhi Phifer really struggled, asking how the Welsh breathed in that weather, and saying that our bacon wasn't bacon Afterwards, Eve had three baths, then got really drunk.

Another question was a moment in filming when they burst out laughing. They said there were moments like that every day, and it was the laughing that exhausted them more than anything else. Eve specified that Gareth falling over in the water filming Cyberwoman made her laugh.

Gareth said it was hearing the different ways Eve would criticise herself after messing up a take The favourite was "What a bag of W*nk".

They were asked their favourite person to film with. James Masters WAS mentioned

But they waxed poetic about how amazing Peter Capaldi was. They talked about how in the read through, everyone stopped and looked up to see what Peter was doing.

He was reading a speech, just listing countries (I think when he first makes contact with the 456) Just listing countries, and Gareth said it was the most amazing speech ever.

I remember that scene, and it gave me shivers just thinking of it They were asked what their favourite Big Finish plays were. They both talked about how amazing Big Finish was, keeping things going after all these years, and thanked the fans for that too. Can't quite remember which one was Gareth's, might have been office that never was. (EDIT: According to Twitter it was Fall To Earth) It was an early one with James Goss, because of how well it captured Ianto's dryness.

Eve said she loved We Always Get Out Alive because of getting to play with that dynamic between Rhys and Gwen.

They were asked by someone interested in directing audio plays about the differences in filming on screen and recording. They gave really thorough, quite analytical answers to that, taking the questioner seriously about their professional interest, which was really nice. It was almost like watching a mini lecture.

On the topic of Big Finish, Gareth was asked if would ever write an audio play between Ianto and Gwen (applaud the questioner's taste!) Gareth said yes, that he's got ideas for all of them, and often receives emails regarding ideas for episodes. But nothing concrete.

OK, now here's the juicy bit. An audience member asked if they were doing anymore stuff for Doctor Who. Gareth asked if 'they would' or 'if they are' They were told, if they 'are' Gareth laughed and said they're not and wouldn't be able to say if they were Eve went very, very quiet Then Gareth said he definitely would, and when Eve was asked if she 'would' she said yes. She let Gareth take the lead answering that, I'm just gonna say It almost seemed like Gareth was covering for her.

This was interesting because right at the start, the moderator asked Eve about what she had been filming lately She said wasn't filming in Wales, she had been filming for a long, long time, and it will be coming out next year She also said that she couldn't say anything about that either

Now that shoot might not be for Doctor Who, but when I went to chat to my dad and brother and his GF about the Q&A (they had been standing at the back, watching) they agreed it seemed like Eve had been put in a tricky spot when asked about Doctor Who. I can't say anything else except there was a Vibe!

I've just got a feeling, you know.

To end on a funny note, their favourite question was what they would put in the Hub if it was rebuilt. Eve and Gareth really liked that question and said that they had never been asked that question before.

Gareth's answer was a shock

He said......a STARBUCKS!

Ianto is rolling in his grave!

A transporter and a Starbucks. Eve said she would put in a bar. I think Gwen would approve of Eve's choice more than Ianto would of Gareth's

The moderator asked if they would add any pets, and they said they already have a pet, but they don't know if she's still hanging around Eve then joked that her garage is very big and 'she' (I'm guessing Myfanwy) is very tame, so it seems Myfwany has a new home

I think that's all the questions. They were incredibly lovely and down to earth, and gave great, in depth answers. Really made it worth the money and drive to come and see them.

Really can't say just how lovely they were, and just how great it was to see them in person and hear their answers.

[mercerislandbooks]

Book Notes: Poetry Unbound

I didn’t make any resolutions this year, but a podcast I listened to in December about accomplishing big reading projects (War and Peace, Moby Dick, Shakespeare’s entire oeuvre) by breaking them into manageable chunks, reminded me that I do have an unresolved intention of incorporating more poetry into my reading life. I think about it when National Poetry Month rolls around or when I’m shelving/tidying in the Poetry section. Then I get distracted by the latest novel I’m reading and my intention goes by the wayside. Breaking it up into manageable sections, say reading one poem a day, even if I did this only some of the time, would still be more poetry overall than I’ve read in many, many years.

Then I finished my last audiobook and noticed that I had Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Padraig O Tuama in my “to listen” queue. Why not try listening to some poetry, I thought? Poetry Unbound the book grew out of the Poetry Unbound podcast that Padraig O Tuama hosts, which is under the umbrella of Krista Tippet’s On Being Project. I’d been drawn first to the cover, and then the set up of the book. Padraig O Tuama begins with a short lead-in to the poem, then the poem, and follows with his thoughts on it. The range of poets is modern and wide, many of whom I’ve not been exposed to before, and still others I only know by name from shelving or ringing people up. It also doesn’t hurt that Padraig narrates the book himself, in his lovely Irish accent that seems to give each word added weight.

Listening to the audiobook, I was reminded that poetry benefits from being both seen on the page and spoken aloud, even if it is just you, the reader, who is doing the speaking. By listening to the audiobook, I missed the visual impact of how each poet chose to structure their poem. When Padraig would refer to how the poem appears on the page in his reaction it gave me some idea of it, but it just made me realize how much a poem can say with its structure as well as each carefully chosen word. And then to hear the words spoken aloud, with pauses and stresses, gives them life in a way that my internal voice does not. Listening created space for my thoughts and feelings to breathe. It gave me time for me to consider the resonance of the idea or image. I suppose what I am saying is this is a book that begs to be both read and heard, if that is a possibility for you.

The reflections following each poem are a delight because not only does Padraig talk about what each poem means to him, he also discusses various poetic devices and terms like alliteration and voice. Some of them I remembered from my undergrad classes. Many of them I don’t think I ever knew. He asks open ended questions to underline the questions the poet is asking. He draws attention to the choices the poet made, bringing us deeper and closer to their intention. He illuminates the context of the poem and the poet, so that I had a much richer and fuller experience with each poem than I would have had if I was simply reading them on their own.

If you are interested in reading more poetry this year, I highly recommend Poetry Unbound as a wonderful place to start!

— Lori

[bettyfair]

Griefs waiting room

In all my years of catastophising I knew that my nans death would be the hardest thing for me. I used to cry at night imagining her funeral and what I would say in the church full of family and friends. I was probably 12, and losing her was the worst thing I could imagine ever happening to me.

On friday she fell and gave herself what we now know is a terminal bleed on the brain. She's fallen many times before, even given herself a bleed on the brain before. We begged her to go into a care home but she wouldn't go - she's too fucking stubborn. I told her we were scared we would find her dead at the bottom of the stairs, so she got a stair lift. It took her up and down the only set of stairs she never on.

My brother stopped at my house on his way to hers to tell me she's fallen. I made it there shortly after him to see her, with my other youngest brother, on a wooden seat on the pavement apparently unable to move her legs. She was wrapped in a picnic blanket and shivering. My youngest brother was on the phone to 111, a call from the ambulance was in the queue and we could expect to hear from them in 2 hours.

All I wanted to do was make sure she was warm and comfortable. I got her more blankets and a hot water bottle - she fussed over me having the right ones. Eventually we got her in the house thanks to a borrowed wheel chair and stuck her in front of her fire. She as conscious and talkative, I didn't know she was dying.

The last I saw of her was when she was getting in the car, I made sure she had a new hot water bottle, a sick bucket and her blanket. She went off to Hereford with my brothers. I'm sure I told her I love her - but I can't remember now.

I won't get to see her again now - the rest of my family are up there with her. Holding her hand as she dies. I'm just waiting for the phone call and i'm scared every time it rings.

I don't know what the world looks like without her in it, and i'm scared to find out. I've spent the weekend switching from thinking she's dying to thinking she'll get better. Sometimes i'm overwhelmed and I can't stop crying - I don't know what is is, because it can't be grief, she's not dead yet. I keep looking out onto the hills, the same hills she can see from her bedroom, and it's the only thing that calms me.

The train still goes past, the rain still falls, and i still have to go to work next week.

I don't want to say anything corny about her being the best grandmother in the world, because I don't think that does her justice. She was a complex, full person who did what she wanted, when she wanted. She was so fucking stubborn. I can not understate this. She once argued with me for a full hour because she wouldn't accept that Australia was a country.

She also built a pirate ship on the side of her house, with a drop down swing anchor and a cannon that shot tennis balls onto the Green Lagoon (her lawn). She used to sew my dresses when I was young, often making matching ones for the 2ft tall stuffed Gorilla (named Big Ape) I had off my uncle not long after I was born. She used to send care packages everytime I was ill - she couldn't come into the house because of her compromised immune system so she would leave them on the door step - one time ringing me from her car as I opened them in the window.

I have always felt so loved by her, I just hope she knows I love her even more.