#you probably shouldn’t be organizing fan events

[huntquinlan]

other people have already really eloquently explained why censorship in fandom spaces is so problematic but one of the crucial reasons why elaingate was such an issue, which i personally haven’t seen people touch on is a misunderstanding of fan events which disregards their role as archival spaces.

when you create a character/ship week or other fan creation driven event you are volunteering to act in an archival position. event organization does not end with choosing dates and spreading the word. crucially, fandom event organizers are volunteering to create a space that records the celebration of the chosen topic within their community, regardless of any qualities of the content produced by other fans in the community that the organizers may not personally like. This is because, when you volunteer to host an event and create an archival space to record the event, you are no longer acting in a personal capacity but an organizational and archival capacity.

i saw another person comment on the lack of proper tagging system and master lists in previous elain weeks which is how i became aware of this frankly concerning underlying issue with the event. how can members of the fandom interacting with content for a fan week properly navigate fan week spaces both presently, and in the future if proper tagging and organizational techniques are not observed? how can vulnerable fans protect themselves from content they may be to averse to if it is not properly tagged by event organizers/moderators? creating ‘safe’ fandom spaces has never been about policing content, and thus how other fans interact with the topic, but rather making sure that content is properly tagged-i.e. organized-by moderators so all fans have the power to choose what content they interact with.

when we, as members of fandoms, lose sight of the historical and long held tradition of fandoms as not just communities but archival spaces we fundamentally misunderstand the role of fan events, in this case leading to elaingate.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

a thought 🤔💭

Consider this post an offshoot of this one!

A lot of the world lore we receive comes directly from the 22-student main cast of NRC. However, this information they provide us with shouldn’t always be taken at face value 💦 Characters can be unreliable narrators; they won’t be 100% honest with us just because we’re the player.

There are points where they speak with sarcasm (so it negates the words they actually say). This happens a lot with Leona’s lines. Other times, characters intentionally say something to avoid implying something else or to cover up a less savory truth. An example of this may be Azul, who is highly concerned with maintaining his self image. Therefore, not everything he says may be entirely truthful, as the words may be intentionally changed to preserve his self image. We need to more carefully parse through and determine what is true and what is false or insincere of the information they disperse to us. It’s much easier, of course, to get a sense for their intentions by listening to their voiced home screen lines rather than just reading the text snd comparing it to their facial expressions, but voices aren’t always available.

Something else I was thinking about that goes hand-in-hand with this is how different backgrounds bias clouds the information given out or can provide an incomplete sample of the TWST population. For example, if you think about it, NRC only has ~800 students and we only see 22 of them. That’s a very small fraction of the total population of Twisted Wonderland (the whole world)—not to mention that almost 75% of those 22 come from at least upper middle class or at least “special” or privileged families:

Riddle’s parents are both medical mages, with his mother being particularly well-known in their hometown’s community. He had the privilege of studying magic since he was very young (which is notable since education is typically general and does not include magic unless you specifically go to a school for it like NRC).

Cater’s dad is a banker. I’m guessing he has to be pretty high up on the food chain to be traveling all the time (and far enough to separate Cater from his friends every time they do), as a regular low-level banker would stay put at one bank location and devote most of their time there.

Leona is a prince, and so is Malleus. Whether they are crown prince or not doesn’t matter because they still receive great educations and access to great funds either way.

Azul’s mom owns and operates the most famous restaurant in the ENTIRE Coral Sea. His stepdad is also a lawyer.

The Leech twins’ father has important connections and is highly influential in the Coral Sea; they are probably loaded because of this. (Popular fan speculation is the Leech mob family.)

Kalim’s dad is a wealthy trader and he is related to royalty; as the eldest son, Kalim is going to inherit the business. The Asim family’s enormous wealth is mention several times over in the main story, voice lines, vignettes, and events.

Jamil’s family is also said to be well-off.

Vil is an A-list celebrity and his father is as well.

We don’t know the specifics about Rook’s family, but they must be influential and deal in some kind of international business, as Rook mentions they have villas and warp pads (which require special clearance for) all over Twisted Wonderland.

Idia and Ortho’s family legit runs a secret government organization that studies blot. Idia himself is a child prodigy, and is set to become the next director after his father and grandmother.

Lilia is a renown war general and was close friends with his country’s crown princess and her spouse. He lives humbly, but he still has highly influential connections that a regular person wouldn’t.

Silver is Lilia’s adopted son, so by extension, he comes from a privileged background. Even if he technically grew up in a hut in the middle of the woods and didn’t live luxuriously, he still has Lilia’s social connections.

Sebek’s parents are both dentists and do you know how much money dentists make—

Ace, Trey, Jack, and Epel come from normal income families (excluding the portion in book 5 when Epel said his family’s farm has fallen on hard times).

Ruggie comes from extreme poverty while Deuce’s family has had financial issues due to being a single parent household.

And that’s not even to mention that NRC is all-male and mostly 16-18 year olds, thus skewing the perspectives we see in a “male” and “adolescent” direction. This will naturally limit the scope of how they see the world and how they speak about it, even if the characters themselves don’t intend for it to happen. In fact, I wonder if part of the reason the NRC boys aren’t open to accepting help or being open with others when they’re struggling isn’t purely a school-exclusive thing. Maybe it’s because 1) teenagers tend to be largely egocentric/focused on themselves anyway, and 2) society largely discourages men from showing “weakness” and NRC happens to attract particularly prideful students 😭 but the most obvious example of background limiting scope of perception are definitely the super sheltered, super wealthy characters (Malleus, Kalim, etc.).

Just getting our information from them won’t be entirely accurate to how the rest of the population acts or perceives things. We cannot 100% rely on what we know of the TWST boys’ behaviors to assess what everyone or everything else is like.

[mandobatemans]

intrigue (Tom Wambsgans x f!reader)

warnings: infidelity, fingering, unprotected piv sex, soft!dom tom, size kink kinda, biting, greg, do NOT have sex with the head of conservative news organizations irl!!!, i am a shivcel fr anything negative abt shiv in here i didn't mean it ily siobhan 🫶, NSFW UNDER THE CUT

word count: 4,740 (i got carried away)

A/N: this is loosely based on s4 e7 but there's no real timeline so it probably takes place like somewhere around season 3 or 4? this is my first succ fic so...enjoy 🤗 & also this took me SO long to write i'm so deeply sorry to anyone who was waiting

also posted to ao3

Tom had never been a fan of the whole “open marriage” arrangement. When he thought back to that fateful night (fateful night…who else would say that about their wedding night?) what he remembered most was the look on Shiv’s face when she told him that she wanted an open marriage. On their wedding night.

It was more for Shiv anyway. Tom rarely thought about actually acting on the arrangement, whether it be out of love for Shiv or loyalty to her father, he wasn’t sure. Sure, he had kissed someone here or done oral there when high on coke, but he had never actually fucked anyone else.

Something was different, though, tonight. Firstly, they were hosting a Waystar/ATN event at their apartment, and despite being chairman of ATN, he wasn't even sure what the evening was for. Shiv had told him about it last minute, casually mentioning it as they were being driven to work, like it was dinner at Logan’s rather than hundreds of media moguls and politicians to host. Actually, dinner at Logan’s felt equally, if not more, important than tonight. A better equivalent for how nonchalantly Shiv had mentioned it would be Connor inviting them somewhere.

Secondly, Shiv had suggested, outright, that they both find someone to hook up with at the party tonight. Earlier in their bedroom, after getting dressed in silence, Shiv had turned to Tom while putting her earrings in to share the idea. He knew she would be acting on it whether or not he did, and why shouldn’t he? It had been a while since he had gotten laid and was verbally (and physically) assaulting Greg a lot more as a result.

Did he just pick someone? How did you approach someone and say, “Hey, I’m in an open marriage but I’ve never actually done anything more than get my dick sucked with anyone else…anyway, let’s fuck!”

Tom fidgeted with his glass as he surveyed the room.

Despite your personal beliefs and the endless human rights violations that Waystar was affiliated with, their (and by extension ATN) events were some of the most lavish you'd ever attended. As a political journalist, it was standard for your company to send a journalist or two to whatever soirée the Roys were throwing. Everyone took turns, and this time you had drawn the short straw. It hadn’t been too bad so far, you thought, although perhaps you were jinxing yourself. You had kept to yourself mostly, chatting with other journalists you frequently saw around the city on assignments, snacking on the hors d'oeuvres, and listening to the ridiculous conversations political and media bigwigs were having.

You had been to an event hosted by the Roys before, but they were usually at ATN, Waystar, or some expensive venue. Being invited as a member of the press to Shiv Roy’s apartment felt strangely intimate. You were certain this was some calculated business move on the part of one Roy or the other, but you honestly didn’t really care. Whatever drama was happening within Waystar Royco was contained within the Roy family. You were simply here to supplement a piece your coworker was writing on the atmosphere of this political season.

It was only an hour into the party when you had collected all the quotes and interviews you needed, and sampled almost all of the hors d'oeuvres. Your boss expected journalists to stay for most, if not all, of the night for these things, in case some political bombshell were to happen. You were pretty sure nothing too monumental was going to happen in this room full of suits, especially with all of the Roys notably absent from the festivities. Even Shiv, whose house it was, looked like she wasn't paying any attention to what was going on in her home. In fact, she had been in the corner all night, talking to some prominent New York and D.C. women, important enough that you knew their faces but not important enough for you to attach any names to them.

You checked your phone for the time. You could probably get away with leaving in another hour if you made up some family emergency as an excuse for your editor. Even another hour seemed like ages. Maybe you could re-interview some people? Speak to some guests whose quotes would never make it in the article just to kill time? Sighing, you opened your messages, thumbs hovering over the chat with your editor, putting your journalism degree to use by brainstorming an excuse to get you back home in your bed before ten o’clock. When you turned around to pace while you typed (a nervous habit), you found yourself face-to-face with one of your hosts.

It felt like a fucking cliché. Literally bumping into someone at a party? If one of your writer friends wrote something like this, you'd tell them it was bullshit and things like that didn't happen in real life. Yet here you were, inches away from–

“Tom Wambsgans, Chairman of Global Broadcast News at ATN.” He introduced himself, reaching out a hand for you to shake.

You returned the handshake, grateful that he wasn’t offended by you bumping into him. “I know who you are.”

“And I know who you are.” He paused. “That sounded stalkerish, didn’t it? I meant, I know who you are because I’ve read your articles.”

“You have?” You were surprised. Your company and your articles in particular were considered left-leaning, the very opposite of the stories ATN ran.

He nodded. “Gotta keep up with the competition. I’ve seen some of your features on the network, as well.”

“Really? I would have thought you would just watch ATN all day,” you teased.

Tom made a face and then shook his head. “No, no, no. Plus, I wouldn’t really call any of our journalists ‘journalists’ so much as pretty faces. You do your own research and look good on the camera. That’s impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow and Tom’s eyes widened, processing what he had just said.

“God, I do sound like a fucking stalker.”

You laughed, “Just a little bit.” You let him cringe for a second, then smiled to reassure him. “No, but I’ve seen some of your interviews since you took over ATN. You look good on the camera, too.” You paused, before adding, “Maybe that makes us both a little stalkerish.”

His eyes lit up at your response, earning a genuine laugh (the first one that night not faked for some suit, he noted).

“Uh, sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't looking where I was going,” you explained, waving your phone in your hand for context.

“Ah, cell phone. The curse of the twenty-first century.”

You furrowed your brow involuntarily for a moment. He wasn't how you expected the spouse of a Roy to be like. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, you weren't yet sure.

“I’m making a huge ass of myself, aren't I?” He sighed. “I’ll leave you to the party–”

“No! It’s okay. Stay,” you heard yourself say. It was Tom’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Okay. You found him attractive. And even despite his eccentric comments, you also found yourself wanting to talk to him more. You were, however, purposely avoiding looking at the wedding ring on his finger.

To Tom, it all seemed too perfect. You, for example. He was being honest when he said he had seen and read some of your work and that he enjoyed it, and he did sometimes watch other networks to get an idea of the competition, but he had left out the fact that there was something about you in particular that made him watch the entire segment when you happened to be on air. And the fact that sometimes he'd scroll through your articles online and imagine you reading them aloud to him. But he wasn’t a stalker. And now you were here, in his house, on the night that his wife had all but shoved him into the bed of anyone that he wanted.

But still; one pleasant, slightly flirtatious conversation didn't mean you wanted to ride off into the sunset with him. Or, more accurately, go upstairs with him.

He scanned the room for Siobhan. Although it had been her suggestion, and he knew she had acted on the arrangement before, he still felt like it was somehow a trap. Like she’d hire someone to hide behind the bedroom door that night and catch him with his pants down (literally) to use as blackmail.

But sure enough, she was across the room, laughing at something some lobbyist had said, and resting her hand on the other woman’s arm slightly longer than a casual touch would last.

The longer he thought about it, the more confident he felt. If you were interested, he wanted to spend the night with you. And maybe more. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“It's kind of loud over here. Come on,” he gestured with his head toward the opposite corner of the apartment, one not occupied by any guests save for an elderly politician snoring on the couch.

You followed him, nodding when he asked if you wanted another drink before picking a champagne flute off of a passing server’s tray. He handed it to you once you reached the corner, your hands touching during the exchange. It seemed like even more of a cliché to feel sparks fly at this tiny touch, so you ignored that, as well.

“You host these kinds of things often?” You asked, leaning against the wall and taking a sip of your champagne. The room was full of very important people, though none of them seemed to be talking about very important things. You couldn't quite wrap your head around why a high-level executive who had married into one of the largest media conglomerates was wasting his time talking to you (flirting with you?), but you had seen stranger things in this city.

He grimaced and shook his head. “No, no. I’m usually just a guest.” Tom laughed and took a sip of his drink. “And not a very important one, at that.”

“I’m sure that's not true. I mean, how many people watch ATN? And you’re in charge of what airs or doesn't air.”

“1.89 million,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, “Outside of the office, nobody’s really worried about what I think.”

“Not even your wife?” You stopped after you said the words, giving your brain a second to catch up with your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect, I–”

“No, no, no, no, it’s okay,” he assured you, reaching out to rest a hand on yours consolingly. Tom leaned in closer so only you would hear him, unnecessary considering the secluded corner you two were in.

“But no, not even my wife.”

Your eyes darted to his hand atop yours, suddenly aware of how large his hands were. They almost completely covered yours, and they felt so comfortable and right there, like–

“We have an open marriage,” he suddenly said.

“Oh.”

Tom seemed disappointed with this reaction, quickly removing his hand from yours and adding, “That’s just to say that, our marriage is, uh, unconventional, so her not caring what I have to say isn’t that unusual.”

You were still processing the feel of his hand on yours, much less the revelation that he actually might be flirting with you and that it actually might go somewhere. By the time your thoughts caught up with you, it seemed like he was about ready to excuse himself and go scream at his reflection in the bathroom.

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” you responded, mirroring his gesture from before and resting your hand on top of his to comfort him. “You don’t deserve that, really.”

He scoffed. “You don't know what I deserve.”

You looked up at him, taking the time to absorb the look in his eyes that revealed just how much he was going through.

“Uh, Tom?”

Tom rolled his eyes and turned away from you to snap at the source of the interruption. “What, Greg? Can’t you see I’m having a conversation?”

“It’s just–well, Shiv is leaving with someone.” The taller man gestured at the door, where sure enough, Shiv was weaving her way through the crowd toward the elevators with the lobbyist from earlier, her hand guiding her by the small of her back.

Tom bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, Greg, we do have an open marriage. So, everything’s fine. Now, scram.”

Greg looked between the two of you and hesitated for a second before nodding and disappearing back into the bustle of the party.

Tom turned back to you. “That’s Shiv’s cousin, Greg. I’ve sort of taken him under my corporate wing, so to speak. Showing him the ropes and all that.”

You nodded, finishing your champagne.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” you echoed.

He paused for a minute, though it seemed to last much longer than that. “You’re writing an article about this party, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded, unsure of where he was going with this.

Tom leaned in, lowering his voice. “What would your editor say if you got a behind-the-scenes look at the party?”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Of course, you'd have to come upstairs…” Something shifted in his tone. You were well aware of what the change implied, and you’d be lying if you said you didn't want to jump at the offer. This wasn’t you, though. Sleeping with a married man? On top of that, not just any married man, but the host of the party that you were covering for work. It sounded like a problem you’d encounter on an Intro to Ethics exam. But any moral qualms you had about the issue were pushed out of your head when you registered the way Tom was looking at you.

“Of course,” you repeated, nonchalantly, setting your empty champagne glass on a nearby table.

Something flickered in Tom’s eyes. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Wambsgans,” you replied, gesturing dramatically.

Neither of you spoke for the entire walk away from the excitement of the party to the quiet of Tom’s bedroom. It looked much like you had expected it to look: modern, chic, and impersonal. You were sure Tom (or Shiv) had some personal items somewhere in the house, but the bedroom was so clean and styled that the only indication anyone slept or dressed in there was some of Shiv’s makeup and jewelry strewn haphazardly on the vanity.

When he had closed the door behind you, Tom stepped closer to you experimentally, as if he was afraid you'd flee like a wild deer if he moved too fast. You stepped closer as well, which seemed to give Tom the permission he was looking for. Within seconds, his mouth was on yours, his hands cupping your face, all tongue and teeth. There was hunger and desperation in the kiss, but it was hypnotizing, beckoning you deeper and deeper. He was almost doubled over to reach you (god, he was tall), so you shifted your weight to stand on your tiptoes.

Tom broke the kiss, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

He shed his suit jacket, throwing it carelessly on the floor. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Tugging on the length of his tie, he loosened it enough to undo a few buttons at his collar, revealing an inviting expanse of chest hair.

“Turn around,” he told you, snapping you out of your male-stripper-fantasy gaze.

You did as he said, something in his tone going straight to your core. You felt him run his hands from your shoulders down your arms, then down your hips and up to your waist, the action bunching up the fabric of your dress. He moved your hair to the side, pressing hot kisses to your neck that made your eyes roll back.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered, his lips trailing up to your ear.

You nodded in response, trembling momentarily under his touch. Tom unzipped your dress, helping you push it down your body and step out of it. He unhooked the back of your bra without moving further. It occurred to you then how wrong this was, to be sleeping with someone else’s husband in their own bedroom, but to your surprise, you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the heat of Tom’s gaze on your bare back. You took your bra off the rest of the way and discarded it on the ground next to your dress. Once in only your underwear, you turned back around to face him, watching his eyes follow every curve of your body to drink in the newly exposed skin.

“Wow,” he said, simply, reaching out to grab you by the hips and pull you closer to him. “You’re gorgeous.”

Grinning, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again, cradling his face in your hands. You felt him smile back into your kiss. Before you knew it, he had you pressed against the wall, totally enclosed by his larger form. He went from kissing you on your lips to your neck to behind your ear to your chest, as if he couldn't decide which spot deserved the most attention or for how long.

One of his hands slid down to the waistband of your underwear, the cold metal of his wedding ring a shock against your hot skin. You made eye contact with him as his hand slipped between the fabric and your skin cup your cunt, whining when you felt his touch. He seemed to get off on that, capturing you in a kiss again at the same time he slipped a digit into your wet heat. You were too hot; you pressed your hand to his chest to stabilize yourself and pushed your underwear down your legs and kicked them off. Tom smiled at this, getting right back to pumping his finger in and out at a pace that almost made you melt down the wall.

It was probably a power trip thing, you thought, you totally naked and him almost fully clothed. You didn't mind because it was kinda hot, but it wasn't what you had expected from Tom based on the unassuming, Midwestern image of him that was circulated in columns and by the Roys themselves. But, then again, you hadn't expected to find yourself in this position at all when you left your apartment earlier that night.

The pace of his fingers felt so good, so intoxicating, that now that you had him, you needed more of him.

“A-another one,” you whined between kisses.

When you opened your eyes to look at him, Tom had a smug look on his face. Sure, it was arrogant, but it turned you on, so who really cared? “Yeah?” he asked, “You want another one?”

“Tom,” you hissed, gripping onto his shoulder as his finger curled in just the right way that it made your legs go numb.

The look remained on his face, but he added another finger nonetheless. Tom appeared to inhabit both extremes when it came to sex: he really wanted to pleasure you but he also really wanted to do what he wanted. Luckily, those two wants aligned.

He was making you feel so good that you needed to have more of him. Your kisses got sloppier, each so desperate to be further molded with one another that your tongues tried to push impossibly further into the other’s. Tom shifted his hand so he could angle his thumb to rub slow, tantalizing circles on your clit as he continued to pump his fingers. Your grip on his shoulder tightened–you feared your fingernails would leave dents in his skin–but like so many other things tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could feel the pressure rising in your middle, your cunt clenching around his fingers in anticipation of your impending orgasm, but then it stopped.

You opened your eyes that you hadn't realized were squeezed shut to look at Tom, who had his hand in front of your face, fingers glistening with your slick. “Open,” he encouraged. You obeyed, accepting his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean with a ‘pop.’ He stared at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. He jerked his head toward the bed. “Sit.”

There was authority in his commands, but you didn’t fear him; from the short amount of time you had spent with him, you knew he was at his core a sweet man. You would admit to yourself that you had been curious how his awkward, nervous energy would translate into the bedroom, but once alone, he seemed to be a different man.

You watched him strip off the rest of his clothes eagerly, smiling up at him once he rejoined you on the bed totally naked. He must’ve noticed you staring, because he asked: “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You shrugged, shifting your eyes back up to his own. “No, it’s okay. I'm on birth control.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. I don't even know if I have one in here.”

“Then why’d you ask?” You laughed, encouraged by the smile that crossed his face when you did so.

“Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. If you said yes, I would’ve sent someone to go get one or borrowed one from–”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Just fuck me already.”

“Alright. If you say so,” he teased, leaning down over you to kiss you. Both your lips were red and puffy from all the kissing and some biting, but it didn’t matter. You could feel his cock pushing against your stomach from the angle, so you reached down to take him in your hand and pump his length.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your skin, face buried in your neck as he pressed kisses to the every inch of available flesh, “Fuck…Can I?”

“Please,” you responded, noticing a little desperate hitch in your voice that you ignored. Tom licked his hand and cupped your sex with it, running the pads of his middle fingers through your folds a few times to collect the wetness between your legs. Gently, he guided his length into your opening

inch by inch, watching your face for any sign of discomfort before bottoming out.

You should’ve expected his dick to be big from his height, the size of his hands, his nose, whatever, but you hadn’t considered just how big. It was quite a stretch to take him fully, but he gave you all the time you needed to adjust and get comfortable. When you were ready, you bucked your hips up into his to give him the okay.

Tom took your permission to move and ran with it, grabbing your left leg and placing it over his shoulder before pressing you down further into the mattress with his body weight so he could thrust into you at a deeper angle.

You lifted your head to meet him to return to making out, the sensation of his tongue down your throat even more erotic now that he was inside of you, as well.

His thrusts were deep but not as aggressive as he had been with his fingers. He wouldn’t vocalize this, or even admit to himself that he was thinking this, but he wanted this to last. As much as it was supposed to be a hookup–emotionless sex–he found himself wanting it to happen again, despite his attempts to push those thoughts deep into the recesses of his mind.

One arm was thrown around Tom’s neck, hand gripping a fistful of his hair. Your other hand went down to your clit, beginning to rub circles to match the pace of his thrusts.

“You wanna cum again?” He teased, “Again, when I haven't cum once?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully, slipping your finger down from your clit to lightly stroke the length of his cock that wasn't fully inside of you.

He let out a moan, eyes twinkling as he snapped his hips a little harder, snickering when you gasped in response.

Tom caught you in another kiss, resting his weight on his forearm that was positioned next to your head. You arched your back up into him, urging him deeper, which he obliged. “Touch yourself,” he said, disconnecting his mouth from yours just long enough to give the command.

You smiled into his lips, rubbing your clit again as his thrusts became sloppier and jerkier. He was holding on until you came again, despite his earlier cockiness. The moment he felt your walls tighten around him, he let go, spilling inside of you with a grunt.

He pulled out, rolling off of you to lay beside you.

Tom was still catching his breath, and you watched his chest heave for a few moments. “Hey, you okay?” He asked. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, nodding and reaching over to kiss him again. “I'm good, yeah. You?”

“Perfect, actually.” Tom smiled back at you. He found himself lost in the moment, lost in your eyes, lost in the connection you two had just had, and it was too much for him. Quickly, he sat up, ready to change the subject. “You need to clean up?”

You furrowed your brow at the sudden shift in his demeanor, but going along with it nonetheless. Despite him just having been inside you, you didn't feel like it was your place to mention the change. “Yeah. Can I?” You asked, gesturing vaguely toward the bathroom.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Go ahead. Towels are above the sink.”

You flung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll just clean off real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No, no, no. I mean, you can stay the night. If you’d like, that is. I could call you a car, though, if I’ve made some awful faux pas and you don’t want to look at me for another–”

“Tom.” He focused on you again after his brief spiral. “I would like to stay.”

He grinned. “Great, that's great.”

“Just let me–” You waved your hands around your lower body, “–clean all this up.”

“Yeah, of course, sure. I’ll be here.” He added the last part in a quasi-sing-song voice.

At the sound of the shower turning on, Tom rose to locate his clothes and try to clean up. He pulled his boxers back on, taking his dress shirt, pants, & jacket to be thrown into the hamper. They really should be dry-cleaned, he considered, but found that he couldn’t be bothered. As for your clothes, he wasn’t sure what exactly to do with them, so he laid your dress across a chair in the bedroom and left your bra and underwear on the floor. He was still considering whether he should pick them up or not when you came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your torso.

Once you had dressed in your undergarments again and Tom had given you an undershirt to sleep in, you started to wonder what all this meant. If it had just been a hookup, why were you staying the night? You had thought you’d feel dirty and disgusted with yourself, spending the night in someone else’s bed with someone else’s husband, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what that said about you, what it meant that you were perfectly comfortable talking into the night with Tom, both laughing and sharing stories long after you had agreed to turn the lights off and get some sleep. That almost made it worse, you thought, that it wasn’t just sex. That made it dangerous.

After you had drifted off, Tom spent a few minutes watching you sleep. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, watching the worries of the day wash off your face while you slept. He knew it was wrong to be more comfortable in this bed with you than he was with his own wife. But that was something to deal with (or repress) in the morning. Here, now, with you wrapped in his and Shiv’s bedsheets, your form against his chest rising and falling with his breaths, he could pretend it was meant to be like this.

@swiftcession @greenwrldsz @zirrocom @lukas-matsson @ledtassoo @bluecruz97 @rita-lean @grainyimag3

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hi! This is a fic rec of my favorite fics involving sports. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry / @isthatyoularry (136k)

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante  (112k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Oh Glory by alivingfire / @alivingfire (77k)

Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.”

“Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame."

Harry Styles is Team Great Britain's newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he's assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry's childhood crush.

Summer's In the Air and Baby, Heaven's In Your Eyes by starryhaze / @starryhaze28 (71k)

“So we probably shouldn’t do this.” Louis says, and Harry knows he means staying like this, wrapped up in each other, and he nods, then lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder. His eyes are focused on the ground while he tries to will the tears away.

“We shouldn’t. I’m sorry Lou it’s just-“

“Hey it’s fine, baby.” Louis promises, gently rubbing this thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry leans into the touch and blinks up at Louis.

“Not your fault.” Louis says, looking around before he presses his lips against Harry’s in a short but sweet kiss. “You’re like my dirty little secret now.” He grins wickedly and gives a wink, making Harry blush and bite his lip as he steps away.

⋆ .ೃ ࿔ *: ･

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche (47k)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

The Boys of Summer by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (45k)

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

Bloodsport by tofiveohfive / @tofiveohfive (40k)

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

Be My Little Good Luck Charm by 100percentsassy (34k)

In which Harry is a promising amateur golfer making his debut at the PGA Championship, and Louis is a Sky Sports anchor who would really rather be commentating on footie.

The other boys are around too: caddy!Niall provides victory pints, Liam is Louis’s Very Serious co-anchor, and poor Zayn just gets his face drawn on.

But Me, I'm Not a Gamble by orphan_account (33k)

A Posh & Becks AU in which Harry is a star on the stage and Louis is a star on the pitch, but they're both inexplicably terrible at articulating their feelings. In the end, it only takes a season's worth of failed matchmaking schemes, platonic dinner dates, road trip holidays, and one very convenient David Beckham cameo for them to figure it all out. And if Niall knew all along? Well, he at least has the decency not to be too smug about it.

Swallow My Words by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (32k)

Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about.

Part 1 of Swallow My Words

Player by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom (28k)

Louis’ job should be simple. Harry Styles, one of the top ranking tennis players in the world, is every publicist’s perfect client. He’s charismatic, enigmatic, and fit as fuck. The darling of the media, a national treasure, and a sponsor’s wet dream. He’s also a goofball with the kindest heart, sweet, and polite, and singularly focused on achieving his goals.

There are just two minor problems. Firstly, Louis’ debilitating crush on said client. And secondly, Harry has just accidentally Instagrammed a picture of his dick to his 18 million followers. So no, Louis’ job is anything but simple.

OR the one where Louis is Harry’s highly strung publicist and has a thing for his client, Harry is an international sports star and has a thing for his publicist, Liam and Zayn have a thing for each other, and Niall wishes everyone would just get their shit together.

You and Me Were Kings by orphan_account (28k)

harry plays football in a small town in west texas. louis might be the only person that doesn’t give a damn. au.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope (17k)

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

We've Got Nothing to Lose by iwontseecadyagain (12k)

“Oops!” A deep and slow voice fills Louis’ ears as an arm reaches around his waist, to keep Louis from rebounding into another white-outfitted body – this time a short young girl who could only be gymnast.  “Hi,” Louis replies as he turns to smile up at the person and thank him for preventing Louis’ life from dissolving into a real-life game of Pong, but the words dry up in his throat when he sees.

The person is a boy, tall and lanky with curly brown hair pushed away from his face messily and held back by a gaudy Union Jack scarf, green eyes sparkling from all the camera flashes and impossibly pink lips curled in a wide smile that nearly encompasses his whole face.

And Louis recognizes him instantly. And he thinks that maybe if walking into the Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremony wasn’t enough, having Harry Styles’ arm around him might be the killing blow.   Also known as an Olympics AU where Harry is a pro tennis player, and Louis is a pro footballer. They meet at the opening ceremony and fall in love, obviously.

We Should Get Jerseys by orphan_account (12k)

There’s a lot surrounding Harry, and Louis knows, in his heart of hearts, that there always will be. He just doesn’t know if he’ll manage to equate into the ‘always’ of it.

Harry is a hockey player, and Louis is his slightly melodramatic boyfriend.

And Darling I Will Be Loving You 'til We're 70 by orphan_account (11k)

“Well, you deal with the football team, and we’ll handle everything else,” Teddy answers. He sits up confidently and crosses his arms – Harry always tells them that believing in yourself is 90% of the job – with his head held high. Louis sees a flicker of determination in his eyes, mixed with a bit of mischief and youthful exuberance. It reminds him of himself, when he was younger and even now, 32 years old and married with four children. He’s really fucking grateful for the life that he lives and the kids that he has. (And his husband is pretty alright, or whatever.)

A canon spin on Posh/Becks where Louis coaches their daughter's football team for the very first time and Harry comes back from a summer working for Saint Laurent.

Part 1 of posh/becks au

[accio-victuuri]

“big name bxg c-fans earn a lot because cpf give their money to them instead of xz and wyb.” 💀

I wanted to address this comment i saw yesterday but I had to organize my thoughts first as best as i could. I also knew GRA events are gonna take up a lot of my time so i had push it back. However, i want to post about it here even if the topic associated to this didn’t blow up that much (thankfully) cause it irritated me. I’m very used to certain fans having a skewed view of bxgs. I understand that no matter what we say, the prejudice is too heavy to even see reason.

So this is more of to explain to bxgs how this statement is completely wrong and why it shouldn’t even be said in the first place.

Let’s start with the context.

On 11/2, when there was supposed to be an entertainment ban, a few hot search tags popped up. The boys’ name or even BXG was not on it but it sort of involved the fandom. The gist is this person is a former big name BXG account back in 2019 who is now a yxh. They earned a lot from that work and was able to buy “ 8 houses”. That was actually what got on HS, the idea that someone who is working as a yxh can be that rich.

I guess people missed the fact that this person earned the money from yxh “work” and not being a BXG account. Some just saw “bxg” so they made a connection and so the comment i posted above was a common statement. The fact that XZ and WYB are top stars too added to the conversation.

First of all, being a big name account that posts about XZ and WYB back in 2019 isn’t that hard. Untamed was at it’s peak that time and so were the active fans. The drama was airing. They had appearances and were practically everywhere. It would not take that much to get the likes, follows and engagement for 2 people that had a lot of content going on. After that, when 2020 rolled in, I understand how some people on the c-side of things will fall off. They probably had new interests and I think the same goes for that account. They were there at the height of it and learned how being a profitable blog works. So I wanna say that this fan was seasonal. To say that they “represent” all big name bxg blogs is totally unfair.

Next i wanna address the concept of profit and “cpfs giving money to big name accounts”.

The easiest way is engagement to a blogger’s post. It may not be me giving the money in my pocket to them literally but they get earnings from engagement & through ads/ affiliate links. This concept is not new to BXGs. It’s the same as any other influencers out there. So the accusation of spending money to big name accounts instead of supporting the boys — in this case is misleading.

You can argue that a regular person, even so/os fall in this trap when they engage with blatant anti accounts. When they comment and share those posts, they give them the engagement.

Now there are two other ways that bxgs give their actual money to these big name accounts.

1. Fansites. Those that share HQ photos and videos of them during events. How they make money aside from engagement is selling photo-books. What’s important to remember tho is there is an unspoken rule among these sites ( not just bxg ones ) that a huge part of the earnings will be spent on charity and buying endorsements by the boys. they post receipts. Not everyone of them is perfect and some have their own issues and closed down but that’s just how it goes.

2. Fan artists. The concept of fan art & merch have long been alive and is honestly one of the best things about fandom. It gives a chance to artists to make something and earn from it. I have to say that this is the more lucrative one cause the really popular ones have their products ( usually the dolls ) sell out so fast and have months of waiting list. The same fan sites, there is a rule for them to use the money for charity.

Here is a post I made before about some of those charities but that’s a very small list compared to the actual initiatives that were done for years.

As for supporting the boys, these accounts buy endorsements, magazines of them in the cover ( in bulk ), organize LED ads for their birthdays or fandom anniversaries, sponsor peripherals for bxg gatherings, host block screenings for movies etc.

Lastly, however someone spends the money they earned is none of anyone’s business. These people on the internet thinking it’s okay to gloat about how they are the “best fan” out there because of how much they spend on a celebrity is so crass. It’s like giving Yibo a gift and leaving all the tags on cause you want him to know exactly how much you spent on him.

I appreciate fans that do spend. I really do. It helps alot with their brand value and career. I personally buy merch and watch content on paid platforms. However it should not be a way to measure someone’s worth as a fan. There is no need to shame people who want to spend their money elsewhere and not XZ or WYB. This kind of toxic mindset is largely prevalent in c-ent fandoms that some international fans are adapting. If there is something that the CCP and I agree on, it’s that this practice shouldn’t be demanded of fans. The idea of “how dare you spend on something you like” ( whether it’s a product from a big name fan or whatever ) exposes whoever is saying it as that kind of brainwashed fan.

So anyway, participate in the fandom in a way that you are comfortable with. We all have different approaches on how we take part in it and there is really no need to keep receipts. ✌🏼

[beartrice-inn-unnir]

👋 for the book reader asks: 3, 7, and 12?

3. What’s something you read recently and wanted to argue with (either with the book or the author or the fans)?

Maybe the Library at Mount Char - I liked it a lot, but I have a whole collection of books I call “Books about Libraries that are really Private Archives”. LaMC is only the most recent addition that I’ve read.

And it’s true, for a long long time up to the very recent past, libraries were usually private collections of resources which were only available to small affiliated groups. The Public Library is recent idea and the huge swathe of public social services the average (American) Public Library provides shouldn’t fall entirely on this one underfunded organization that can have insufficient training in social work etc. See this excellent Vocational Awe article for more info.

But I still want to read a book with a magical library that’s open to the public, that provides services and educational events, that supports its community, but isn’t hard to find. I really love a lot of these magical private library books, but the ubiquity of access is really important to the modern library (in some places anyway), and I’d love to read something that shows that someday.

5. What book do you love but usually not recommend because it’s weird or intense, etc?

I utterly adore Katherine Addison’s The Witness for the Dead, but it’s so hard to describe (and, as a result, to recommend) - the setting is so lush and the characters are such a product of their setting and life-experiences. It’s a non-violent crime novel. It’s very religious and spiritual. There might be werewolves. There are murderous ghouls. There’s opera and air-ships. It’s a detective novel. It’s a political thriller. It’s slow-moving and deeply kind. The protagonist is having a very long week. It’s only 232 pages long.

12. What book have you re-read most often?

I pick up Connie Willis’s To Say Nothing of the Dog whenever I need a break from other things in life, so probably every few months on the outside 😹 I love that if I ever don’t understand what’s happening, the protagonist understands even less than I do. He’s overtired and overworked, and it’s made him into a soppy romantic who keeps mishearing people but is too polite to ask for clarification. I relate.

Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword and Tamora Piece’s In The Hand of the Goddess are two other comfort rereads that I have as audiobooks, so they probably are the stories I’ve read/heard the most often by sheer numbers.

[jordanrosenburg]

How much is a loaf of bread?

Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think concert tickets, or any sort of ticket to see someone perform, should cost the same, if not more, than a month’s worth of rent. In the last several years, we’ve seen ticket prices skyrocket. Why? Because when you add Ticketmaster to an artist who doesn’t know how much a loaf of bread costs, you’re going to get outrageous prices. Is it entirely the company’s fault? Probably not. The artists that use Ticketmaster are also to blame. But we’ll dive into that aspect shortly.

Alright, so let’s just talk about Ticketmaster for a bit, and my arch nemesis Official Platinum (OP). According to Ticketmaster, Official Platinum Seats are premium tickets made available by artists and Event Organizers. They also go on to say that these seats in particular give fans access to “some of the best seats in the house”. FALSE!  All of the seats that are open for OP are all over the place, spanning from the pit all the way up to the nosebleeds. And if you want a ticket at all, you have to use the OP function because the standard tickets sell out in a matter of seconds.

Ticketmaster’s OP option apparently enables “market-based pricing”, which is basically as more people buy seats, the prices go up. They’re saying this is similar to how hotel and airline prices are sold. Okay, but this isn’t a hotel or an airline. It’s for a fucking ticket to an event that’s less than three hours long, and you’re not being provided the same service you would get at a hotel or on a plain.

“Enabling artists and other people involved in staging live events to price tickets closer to their market value.” ENABLING ARTISTS! This is a function artists and their teams choose to use. They do this so they can get paid more because the artists don’t get any of the resale money when tickets are resold on other sites. Okay???? They’re still getting paid for the original ticket that was bought, right? So what does it matter?

Sites like StubHub and the like used to be where you could find tickets for cheaper prices. Now the prices are just as high, if not more, than what people bought them for off Ticketmaster because they know, for certain artists, someone out there is willing to pay over $1000. We’ve seen this time and time again with other companies. Air BnB used to be a way to have a more affordable vacation. Uber and Lyft used to be more affordable than getting a cab. Etc, etc. The real kicker for me is that this only happens in the U.S. I have friends around the globe, and they don’t have to deal with prices inflating. So why is like that here? Answer me that Live Nation! Oh, wait, LIVE NATION IS OWNED BY TICKETMASTER, SO IT’S NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR ARTISTS TO USE OTHER TICKETING SITES TO SELL THEIR TICKETS FOR REASONABLE PRICES!

People like to blame the venue itself, but it’s not necessarily the venue’s fault. They’re being told how things are done. They have to follow Ticketmaster’s rules. Now, at smaller venues where maybe an artist is slightly less known, but still popular, most of the time it’s about $45 for a general admission (GA) ticket. For example, venues like The House of Blues in Boston typically sell their tickets for $45, that’s with fees included. Smaller venue means less crew that need to be paid. The stage doesn’t need to be made up or broken down. So obviously the price of the ticket is going to be less.

And I understand that people need to be paid, I’m not saying that these people who work incredibly hard behind the scenes don’t deserve to be paid, I just think it shouldn’t be at the expense of the fans. There has to be another, more feasible way to make sure the crew and all the other folks are getting their money. And I know some artists have to wait a while to be paid because the label has to get paid, the record company has to get paid, the managers have to get paid, and so on. But isn’t that what selling merch is for? I thought things like that helped to offset the cost. Or, you know, the hundreds of dollars worth of taxes and fees.

OP has been around for a long time, but with less and less venues selling tickets through their physical box offices, we’re basically forced to buy tickets online, and pretty much only through Ticketmaster. I’m sure there were some good intentions in the early days of OP, but it’s become the bane of many peoples’ existence.

Many artists use the OP function to make more money. Okay, that’s fine if face value is between $50-$150, I guess? There’s nothing more infuriating than clicking on tickets and getting them in your cart, only for the price to have doubled in the two seconds the page was refreshing. Then you either have to buy them, or go back in and try again. The whole process is exhausting! What’s always mind boggling to me is when I’m trying to get GA tickets, and I get the pop up from Ticketmaster saying, “another fan has already purchased these”. THEY’RE GENERAL ADMISSION, WHAT DOES IT MATTER????

I didn’t know things were this crazy up until a couple of years ago when I became a fan of Harry Styles. Signing up for presale, clicking into waiting rooms (if you were lucky enough to get a presale code), waiting in queues only to be told there’s 2000+ people ahead of you in line. What I’ve noticed more and more is that there’s a presale for everything, so by the time general sale happens, there’s no good seats left. How is that fair? There also is rarely ever a limit to how many tickets you can buy, so scalpers and bots buy up entire rows of seats, and go onto resale sites to sell them for double or triple the original price.

There are presales for Spotify users, but you have to make sure you’re following that artist and listening to them enough for Spotify to even send you a code. And now some credit cards are giving out presale codes! AMEX is the one I see most often. You have to your AMEX card on file in your payment options for Ticketmaster to be considered for their presale. And when you get to the event itself, AMEX users sometimes get access to merch that no one else has access to, and more. Then you have “verified fan” (VF) presale.

According to Ticketmaster, VF is another way to help artists to get more of their tickets into the hands of the fans, not just to resellers. Wasn’t that the intention of OP? Awesome, another hoop to jump through. Only this time, you’re signing up to be registered for a chance to obtain this presale that is automatically linked with your Ticketmaser account. So you can’t even share your code with your friend. They would have to sign into your account to get the tickets, and then transfer them. AMEX does this as well for their presales.

A lot of these presales happen on different days and times. I’ve had to literally put them on my calendar so I’d remember which day and time I could try for specific show dates. The most annoying thing about VF is that it’s a lottery system. You’re not guaranteed VF just from registering for it. I’ve only been lucky enough to have VF one time, but even still you’re not guaranteed tickets because you still have to wait your turn in the queue, and then it’s a race to select and buy your tickets.

What happens if you don’t get selected for VF? Ticketmaster sends you a bullshit email telling you that you’ve been added to a waitlist, and if all the tickets they’ve set aside for VF don’t sell, then you’ll be taken off and given access. This literally never happens. No one ever gets taken off the waitlist. Just be blunt and say I didn’t get VF and let me know what my other options are, if there even are any.

Let’s get back to Harry Styles. I love him to death, and I love going to his shows because they’re always a unique experience. He interacts with his fans way more than other artists do. He makes your night together very special. So for that, sometimes it’s worth the price. I won’t lie, I’ve paid over $500 for one ticket to see Harry. There are other artists I would not do that for. And nine times out of ten, I’ve had to buy tickets to his shows through resale sites. Normally, I don’t think I would care, but for the final leg of his North American portion of Love on Tour, he decided to have residencies in large cities. Fifteen nights in New York, a couple of nights in Canada and Texas, a week in Chicago, and another 15 nights in LA. He did this so it would be easier for him to work on writing and recording. He loves touring and performing, but this time around he had us come to him. This is where I started to really lose my mind.

Okay, so say my GA Pit ticket (and trust me, you want to be in the pit for a Harry show at least once if you can) is around $450 with taxes and fees included. Not great, but not horrible enough to send me into excruciating debt. But now I have to factor in more travel than usual. I live in central NH, so normally I just go down to Boston and stay with my friends. A simple drive that costs next to nothing. But now I have to travel all the way to Midtown. So not only do I need to travel down to Boston, but now I have to go from Boston to New York. And on top of that, now I need a hotel room. Then you have to factor in food. That’s well over a thousand dollars at that point.

I went to two of Harry’s residency shows at MSG. The first show I had pit for the first time, and I honestly blacked out, so I couldn’t even really enjoy it. I took a bus from NH to Boston, then flew to New York. The flights were cheap. Then I took an Uber to my hotel where I was paying for two nights at. It was a good hotel, and only half a mile from MSG. I’m usually willing to pay a little extra for a good hotel. My safety is very important to me. After the show, I flew back to Boston, took my bus back to NH and called it a day. Fine. But I wanted to go again. So, the second time, I took a bus from NH to Boston, then took an express bus from Boston to New York. This time, I had no hotel. This trip was 24 hours. After the show, I met up with my friends who I knew were also headed back to Boston, and we waited for our 2AM Amtrak together.

I’m lucky that I have the means to travel like this. Many others aren’t. And I understand that it’s easier for the artist and their crew to stay in the same place for longer periods of time, but if you really cared about your fans, wouldn’t you want to make things easier for them? Even if the ticket is reasonably priced, now I have to pay for all these extra things? And I’m not saying I didn’t have fun in New York, because I did. I made the most out of my time there, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Harry Styles is a very humble person, at least, that’s the side of himself he lets us in on, but I truly don’t think he knows how much a loaf of bread costs.

I’m not a fan of Taylor Swift, so I won’t dive too deep into what happened with her ticket sales, but I have many friends that love her and I felt terrible that they had such a tough time getting tickets. There was another lottery system, and Ticketmaster really thought that most people wouldn’t be jumping in at the same time. Taylor hasn’t toured in years, of course everyone who got VF was going to login at the same time and try for tickets! One of my friends sat in the queue for THREE HOURS and she was able to get tickets in a decent part of the arena. Then the general sale was sold out because all the tickets were sold during VF, which is so fucking stupid because VF usually only releases a certain amount of tickets. But again, bots and scalpers go in and buy as many tickets as they can.

One event that was done right was Harry’s One Night Only for Harry’s House. I was fortunate enough to go because a friend couldn’t and she gave me her ticket. This lottery system was insane, and trying to get tickets was even more insane. However, the tickets were only $25. At first, they were non-transferable, so you had to be with the person who bought the tickets, or log into their account at the time of the show. That obviously wasn’t feasible, so they made the tickets transferable, and that’s when the craziness happened again because those tickets were being resold for over $500, and a lot of those were in the nosebleeds! I had front row in the second level behind the stage. It wasn’t the most ideal spot, but for $25 and a weekend away with my friends? Totally worth it. If tickets can be sold for that price, without OP getting in the way, why can’t artists do that all the time? Or maybe just turn off OP in general for all shows.

What has finally pushed me over the edge with Ticketmaster is the week of Jonas Brothers shows at the Marquis in New York. I’m just as peeved at the boys because they announced this barely a week ago, and the shows are in two weeks. That’s not enough time to prepare travel plans for a reasonable price. Each night is a different album. Super fun idea, I love it. However, the Marquis only holds up to 1000 people. So, we all signed up for VF. There’s no presale, there’s no general sale. You had to get VF in order to purchase tickets. Everyone I know, including myself, was waitlisted. When I looked at Ticketmaster last night, it said there would be VF tickets sold and OP tickets sold. So, I was able to calm down and I told myself I’ll try my luck with OP and see what happens. But when I tried to join the waiting room earlier today, Ticketmaster wouldn’t let me because I didn’t have a VF code associated with my account. I took to Twitter to see if anyone else was confused, and they were. Many people were asking why Ticketmaster would even advertise OP tickets if they weren’t actually going to sell any. I took a deep breath and went to Vivid Seats. Surely the ticket prices won’t be astronomical. It’s just the Jonas Brothers. WRONG AGAIN! Tickets are being resold for over $400. All I wanted was to listen to Lines, Vines and Trying Times in its entirety!

I think because of what happened with Taylor and the backlash Ticketmaster got, they cracked down on not letting people in unless they had VF, which I can respect. However, they shouldn’t have also advertised a sale for OP tickets. They claim they want to keep the tickets in the hands of the fans...

Does this look like fans bought the tickets? And it’s infuriating because Ticketmaster doesn’t care. Because guess what? The higher ups at Ticketmaster also don’t know how much a loaf of bread costs!

What’s worse is that what used to be a fun and easy thing to do, is now a battlefield. It sucks all the fun out of getting tickets for an event you and your friends are excited for. How can you feel excited when you’re sitting in a waiting room that refreshes into a queue that no matter what number you are in line you’re still not guaranteed tickets? It’s stressful, anxiety inducing, and completely unnecessary.

I know there was a time where before you could buy tickets online, people camped out for certain artists. But that’s a clear line, you know how many people are actually in front of you, and you’re not paying an arm and a leg for your ticket! Even when I was in high school, I could go online and buy tickets for a show and get really good seats for under $200.

We can’t go on like this. Beyonce, the woman preaching for people to quit their jobs and to release their minds, is selling tickets to her shows for astronomical prices just because she can. I know management has more to do with it. They’re using their cash cows to make even more cash. I get it, I really do. But what’s going to happen when this all finally crashes and burns? What happens when we all decide, “You know what? This isn’t worth it”? Artists only get to perform if they have an audience to perform to.

Something else that’s come from all of this stressful ticket buying is hostility within fandoms. If you’re not selected for VF or presales, then you’re telling the people that are getting early access that they’re not real fans, that you deserve it more than them. It’s not another person’s fault a computer selected them. It sucks, and believe me I’m disappointed too, but there’s no reason for animosity to occur because of it. That’s how the corporations win. They want us to turn against each other because they know if we all banded together and said enough is enough, they wouldn’t be able to keep getting away with all this.

Then when all these fans do get together, there’s hostility at the shows! Because people had to fight for their tickets, they come into these venues hot. I was lucky enough to go to both Palm Springs shows for Harry’s birthday. It was at a smaller arena. Two tickets I got off Ticketmaster (front row seats), and two tickets for the next night off of Vivid Seats (GA Pit). Because my friend and I had never been to this arena before, we asked where our section was and the person working told us where to go. So we sat and waited for the show to start. These two girls came over to us and demanded we show them our tickets because apparently we were in their seats. We realized we were in one section over from where our seats actually were. Easy mistake, right? It’s not like we had upper bowl and we were trying our luck at taking other people’s seats. But these girls were being so nasty about it, I finally spoke up and said, “Calm down, we’re all going to get to see him.” And they looked at me like I had three heads. My friend and I walked away and found our actual seats, which were in an even better spot. But still. We’re all going to see a man that preaches treating people with kindness. Those girls were not kind at all.

And when the lights go out and the artist comes on stage, for that brief time we all forget what we put ourselves through to get there. We’re in the moment, having fun with friends and strangers, singing and dancing to the music we all love. It’s so powerful being in a space with people who have all gathered to watch this one person. I’ve made some amazing friends over the last few years because artists have brought us together. And I’ve gone on some amazing once in a lifetime trips because of these artists.

I’m lucky that I’m able to go do these shows. But what about people who aren’t? What about the fans who are living paycheck to paycheck that can’t afford not only a ticket, but other accommodations? Are they less deserving because they’re less affluent? Do the artists actually know who is making up their fanbases? Do the artists even care about how much a loaf of bread costs?

[airtamer]

Just What Happens When Sneezing on a Plane

What Happens When you Sneeze

As a traveler who just took four planes this past week I’m finding myself feeling a little under the weather now that I have returned home. While on the plane I heard many people coughing and sneezing on the planes.

I was left wondering what happens when someone sneezes on a plane. How far can those particles travel that are expelled from the mouth and nose?

To find the answer to this I was directed to a video produced by ANSYS found at

ANSYS is a global company that uses math and science to produce visual simulations of events to give the health and aerospace world a better.

understand on how diseases are spread on airplanes. These health and aerospace organizations can then use this data to implement new systems and precautions to keep passengers safe and healthy while traveling.

As you can see from the video there really is no safe distance to stay from a sneezing passenger on a plane. When one sneezes on a plane those particles go everywhere in that cabin. This is due to the air circulating from the overhead fans to the lower vents.

While of course the people directly near the sneezer are most at risk for catching infection everyone should take precautions. Keep your overhead vent off. In addition some have said that an increase in vitamin c and a personal ion system could be helpful in reducing your personal chances of infections.

If you are the sneezer and you know you have a disease such as the flu you probably shouldn’t be traveling. However, if you think it is just a simple cold there are some things that you can do to keep your fellow passengers healthy.

As with in all situations that you find yourself sneezing, if you sneeze on a plane cover your mouth with the inside of your elbow. Bring hand sanitizer and use it.

Though none of these steps can guarantee you won’t spread germs or get them they will lessen your chances.

[theowlsarequeer]

So Dana said on a stream that it's too late for a full Season 3 of The Owl House (there are going to be three 44-minute episodes instead of the 20-ish the crew had in mind,) probably because the crew has already started working on the episodes and scheduling and stuff. However, it's not yet too late for us to possibly get a season 4 and beyond. The Owl House is an amazing show with off the charts animation, lovable and relatable characters, and A+ representation, and it deserves more than what Disney is giving it.

So many people of different ages love it (I watch it with my siblings and it's our favorite show and there's a significant age gap between me and the youngest,) and the cast and crew have obviously poured their heart and souls into every episode and it shows, so it would be incredibly sad to see it get only 2 and a half seasons.

On a slightly different note, I have heard some stuff on Twitter about some kind of graphic novel based on TOH, kind of like we got with Gravity Falls. I'll let you know if I hear anything about that.

So, what can we do to get more seasons? It's pretty similar to what we were doing before when we wanted a full season 3, except now that we're 5 episodes into Season 2, we have a little more information as to what's working and what's not.

Snail Mail is still the most effective way to persuade Disney to extend a show. This is partially because people who send letters are slightly more likely to be adults, aka people who can pay for a Disney channel/Disney+ subscription, but also because the amount of letters they get is tiny compared to the amount of notifications they get on social media. The address you send these to is: Disney TVA, 811 Sonora Ave., Glendale, California, USA. For people who can't send letters, someone might be willing to mail letters for you. I only found one person and they stopped doing it before I could submit, but if I find someone else I'll definitely tell you. If you know anyone, drop the link in the notes! Another important note: I've heard that Disney will throw out letters they classify as "hate mail," aka anything accusatory, and while I don't know how accurate this is, we probably shouldn't take chances. Explain how much the show means to you/your friends or family, say that it's a wonderful show, talk about your favorite parts, and maybe throw in some fanart if you're an artist! Also mention the queer representation if you can, because that's the part Disney was most against doing, and if they can see that people think positively of it (aka they can get money from it) they'll likely allow more, either in The Owl House or future projects.

Every time we get a new episode, the show trends to a certain extent on Tumblr, Twitter, or both. Disney execs see this. Keep posting! I might try to organize a trend event like with Infinity Train in between seasons 2 and 3 if that's something people would be interested in.

Stream the show on Disney+. I know we hate supporting the mouse, but if you have access to a Disney+ account this is absolutely one of the best ways to support the show. Season 1 recently became available in Canada, and I heard something about it becoming available in Columbia a few months ago. The first five episodes of season 2 will be available in the US on Disney+ starting July 21. (Separate Tides, Escaping Expulsion, Echoes of the Past, Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances, and Through the Looking Glass Ruins.

Petitions only go so far, but it takes 2 seconds and can't hurt. Here's 2 I've signed, feel free to add more if you know more: Petition for The Owl House Season 4 and Petition I've been spreading for awhile now

Create content! Fanart, fanfics, animatics, et cetera. This helps us trend and gives us less artistically talented fans some much-needed content. I'm considering giving 1 TOH-focused artist a week a special boost in addition to my regular art/fic reblogs but idk if my platform's quite big enough for that.

If you have Twitter, consider giving some crew members a follow. Infinity Train creator Owen Dennis has said that networks will often look at a creator's follower count before greenlighting their show, to see how much support the show would get. The crew is also filled with some very cool people who post very cool things.

Animated TV shows are the most popular they've been in a long time among teen and adult audiences, and TOH has a pretty big fanbase. I believe we can harness that power for good and get some more of the show we all love. I'll be updating whenever I get more information, and feel free to drop any petitions, information, et cetera in the notes. I'll make a separate post later to boost content creators. In the meantime, hoot hoot, let's get a Season 4.

[tainted-wine]

The Spring Bird Survival Guide

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(So many of you have asked for a part two of my rutting Hawks fic. I gave in! I have no idea how this holds up compared to the first, but I hope you enjoy!)

Read Part 1 if you haven’t! This takes place directly after those events!

Words: 10k (WHOOPS)

Warnings: None, except for an absurd amount of scene transitions that hopefully don’t get too confusing.

-----------------------------------------------

Tuesday

The chorus of songbirds can be heard right outside of Hawks’s window, their small shapes dashing past and making the peeking sunlight flicker across the bedroom. It sounds like it’s gonna be a beautiful day. He’d be elated, if he wasn’t feeling so ill already.

The fever and itch were coming back, like a hot rash that he couldn’t scratch because it was inside of him. He was really hoping to never feel such a hellish sensation ever again.

He slowly peeled the thick sheets off, making sure not to disturb his bedmate as he sat up. There’s no way the quirk’s effects were returning, is there? Last night, the feeling had only gotten weaker with every passing hour. Now it has returned, not in full force, but once again difficult to ignore. He peered over his shoulder to check on his guest.

You were still sound asleep, worn body supported by pillows all over as if you were in danger of falling apart. While Hawks was healing that night, your aches had only gotten worse. He at least managed to convince you that you were in no condition to drive back home and the safer choice was to stay at his place. You were still wearing the clothes he gave you, while he himself donned only a cozy pair of pants. Such a shame that you didn’t take kindly to his request to sleep nude together. Seriously, what was even the issue? He’s already seen every inch of your body, and in every angle possible.

Every hot, sweaty, mouthwatering angle possible.

The internal fire suddenly rushed to his groin, making him slap a hand over his mouth to muffle a groan. He shouldn’t be around you in this state; might as well get up early and prepare for work.

The moment he was on his feet and stretching, a buzz was heard on the nightstand. Your phone vibrated against the smooth wood as it lit up and revealed the caller’s name.

Ah, the good ol’ deputy.

What that nagging old man wanted was between him and you. It wasn’t Hawks’s right to force himself between whatever matters the two of you had to discuss.

Those facts aren’t going to stop his nosy ass, however.

The phone was snatched from the stand without a second thought, the hero walking out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible before answering. “Mornin’, sir,” Hawks greeted. You were the only ‘superior’ he could toy with; any unruly behavior around the actual important people came with a high risk of punishment. Taking his frustrations out on you has been a blast, but after the bind you freed him from yesterday…

“Hawks? May I ask what you’re doing with your handler’s phone?” The deputy questioned.

‘I completely wrecked her last night. The poor lady didn’t survive.’ He considered the joke for a second, but decided that the stuffy bastard wouldn’t appreciate it. “She’s still snoozing. Yesterday was pretty rough on her. I think she deserves a little slack.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” he said sternly, like he was offended that Hawks dared to make a suggestion. Hell, he probably was. “Well, since you’re here, I suppose I can ask you directly. How are you feeling? Has the quirk worn off?”

His wings flapped and fanned himself. “Oh, so much better, sir! You guys have the best solutions to everything, don’t you? Never doubted you for a second.” Truthfully, if his moral compass was more stable, he’d say that offering an unsuspecting woman to him like some maiden sacrifice was just a little twisted. He can’t help but wonder if he would have refused if he was thinking straight at the time.

“Very good. So you are not feeling any lingering effects? Do your usual rutting symptoms feel stronger at all?”

“Eh…” Hawks hesitated. Should he bother trying to hide it? If there’s anything he’s learned from his mentally taxing undercover work, it’s that half-truths are often the best answer. “Feels like it’s still floating around in me, but nothing to worry about. It won’t be getting in the way of my work.”

“That’s great to hear. We don’t want you hurting your image with any more of your brutish displays in public. Please keep those special traits to yourself.”

That made his lip twitch. It really shouldn’t bother him. The Commission has always expressed their distaste for his more animalistic habits, but fuck, would it kill them to at least show some pity when it’s his very own instincts that are causing his suffering? “You got it, sir.” His calm response didn’t betray his irritation.

“And if you do start having issues, then I recommend that you turn to your handler again. In fact, I was calling to inform her that we have found a more competent individual to replace her.”

Oh. That’s…ouch.

“Really? I kinda like her,” Hawks admitted. It’s pretty awkward to be discussing your possible termination on your phone during a call that was meant for you.

The deputy gave a dry laugh. “Of course you do. She has absolute zero control over you. I was hoping you were mature and disciplined enough to not take advantage of her inexperience, but I suppose I was expecting too much of you.”

Yeah, he kinda was, honestly. No argument there. “So sorry, sir. I won’t let it happen again.” Maybe.

“You better make sure of it. As I was saying, we’ll keep her around in case you are in need of more relief. Once your hormones have stabilized, I will give her the news and you will be rid of her.”

Hawks actually snorted from just how fucked up that plan was.

The cruel man ignored the sound and went on. “Can I trust you to stay quiet about this? I’d rather not have to deal with any constant badgering for however long this goes on.”

‘Totally! There’s no need for her to know that she’s only being kept around to be my fucktoy and then get fired immediately afterwards.’ Man, what an organization that he works for. Too bad they have him whipped and incapable of defying them. “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.”

“Good. Well, this call didn’t go as planned, but it was satisfying enough. I’m expecting you to remain in top condition during your duties. Do not disappoint us.” He hung up without waiting for Hawks’s response.

The winged man didn’t even notice the perspiration quickly coating his body until the phone nearly slipped out of his slick hands. As he returned to his room and placed your device back where it was, he couldn’t help but watch your sleeping form.

You were always cute, he’s not gonna lie about that. Finding new ways to embarrass you on the job became a new type of thrill for him. Your blushful glares never got old.

But he never thought that he’d see you like this, or the state that you were in yesterday. His mind was barely there as he was shrouded in that prankster of a villain’s quirk, but he could still feel you all over his extra sensitive feathers. He was practically drowning in you at the time.

The smell of your arousal. The taste of the glaze on your pussy. The sweet songs of pleasure. The look of overwhelming bliss on your face.

Your soft skin, and your hot wet opening that he wanted to invade over and over again…

“Keigo?”

He doesn’t know when you woke up, or when the hell he crawled into the bed with his face so close to yours that he could feel your breath. “Uh…”

“Are you alright? You’re looking feverish again. And…” You looked down in concern, and Hawks followed your gaze to see the full erection that totally snuck up on him.

“Whoa! Sorry about that! Little guy doesn’t know when to quit.” Hawks scooted away, trying and failing to hide the tent in his pants.

You attempted to sit up, only to wince and settle back down. “Dammit, I can’t believe how much I’m hurting from yesterday. This is embarrassing.” You groaned and snuggled up to the many pillows.

He couldn’t resist planting a kiss on your forehead, ignoring how the brief contact made his hardness twitch. “Sorry, angel. Really wish I wasn’t such an animal back there. Just stay still; I’ll get you some fresh water for your painkillers.”

You look like you wanted to say something, but decided on closing your eyes and trying to relax instead. “Thanks.”

He was already rushing out of the room, heading into the kitchen to fill the empty glass while considering dowsing himself in the cold tap water.

Why, why the fuck was it coming back? Just looking at you was making his vision foggy again. It can’t be his rut; it never made him this excited before. He didn’t have the courage to return to the bed, alternatively placing the cup onto a hardened feather and floating it back to you. He stayed where he was, leaning against the sink and wiping at his face. The heat remained at a manageable level as long as he kept his distance from you, but he wanted to stay close. He had to stay close and protect the woman he was now mated to.

Wait, what?

“Keigo?” He heard you call out and was pulled from his confusing thoughts. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Hawks gave a laugh that didn’t sound all that convincing to his own ears. “Bad news, babe. I think I’m still a horny bird,” he confessed.

There was a pause. Maybe you had taken a sip. “I don’t know if they told you, but when the deputy explained your…situation, he said that the symptoms of your rut will probably be amplified until it’s over.”

Ah, the old man did mention that over the phone. He only had about a week of his yearly phase left, but if this all means intensified aggression and arousal, not to mention the attachment to the lady he just banged for several hours…

This was going to be a very difficult week.

“Babe?” He said just loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes?”

“…I really fucked up by not taking my meds, didn’t I?”

He didn’t exactly hear your sigh, but it was still felt through his wings. “I’m afraid you did.”

Yeah, this was all his fault. This bullshit would only be half as painful if he was still taking his stupid hormone medication like he has been for years. Not only do these unrestrained imbalances feel foreign to his body, but Libido’s quirk practically put them on steroids.

The medicine’s side effects don’t sound all that bad anymore.

—��———

Hawks had already eaten a slice of leftover pizza by the time you finally mustered up the strength to get up. The feel of your entire lower body cramping made you whimper and stumble.

He was already scrambling back in to catch you and hold you up, his high body temperature startling you. “Thank you,” you said wearily.

He froze for a second before jumping back, the sudden loss of support almost making you fall anyway. He wordlessly strutted over to his wardrobe, withdrawing a fresh pair of underwear. 

You looked away when the pants were pulled down and his hardness sprang free. He’s not just going to ignore that, is he?

“Keigo, do you need to…do this…again?” You asked, tuning out the throb of your muscles.

He chuckled as he began to dress himself . “You are not up for more sex, baby. Don’t even act like it when you can barely stand.”

You huffed. “You’re getting really hot again and you shouldn’t go out feeling like th—”

“Nope.” His boner is covered again, somewhat. He stares at the obvious protrusion before shrugging and retrieving his hero outfit.

Even with your aches, you had the grit to push on. “As long as you go slow, I can probably handle it.”

“Mmmm, can’t promise that,” he murmured while momentarily detaching his wings in order to squeeze into his tight black shirt. “The second I’m inside you, I might lose control and shatter your pelvis.”

That’s horrifying, but… “I trust you.”

“I don’t trust me.”

“Keigo…”

“And don’t get too attached to that name, dove. Can’t have it slipping out in public.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not stupid.”

“Could’ve fooled me, since you’ve offered me your tender pussy twice already. Do you want me to pound you into mush?”

“Language, Hawks!” You strictly reminded him, undeterred by your wobbly legs as you tried to remind him who was in charge.

Hawks shot you a look, his face crinkled into furrowed eyebrows and a crooked grin, a look that screamed ‘Seriously?’

“Listen, ma’am, wood happens. I’ve dealt with it plenty of times like any other guy, so I’m telling you that I don’t need to bang to get rid of this.” He pulled up his tan loose pants, the bulge not as obvious, but still visible. “But if you really insist on ordering me to fuck you silly, be my guest.”

You weren’t exactly going to do that, it’s just that Hawks was acting so unfazed by his strong arousal, but his body was very clearly telling a different story. His breathing was heavier than necessary, and every time after he made eye contact with you, it’s like he had to spend a minute to compose himself. However, if he’s confident that he can endure…

“Fine,” you sighed, watching him suit up with more interest than you cared to admit. You hobbled on out and into the kitchen.

“Need help, granny?” You heard him offer. “I can fly you to your place if your legs still aren’t working.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled in annoyance at both him and your uncooperative limbs. The fridge was yanked open and you frowned at its contents. The pizza and chicken wings were the only real food he had, the rest being sugary snacks or microwave meals. Looks like ‘keeping a healthy diet’ will have to be added to your Hawks Maintenance list.

The flaps of wings were heard behind you as Hawks headed for the door, fully geared up and ready for hero work. “Welp, you’re a big girl that can handle yourself. Drive safely, babe. Can’t wait to hear what you have to nag me about at the office.”

“Hmph,” you gave a smirk of your own when you turned away from the humming microwave. “Probably about the next mistake you make for all of the internet to see.”

He waved dismissively and opened the door, the morning sun illuminating him with an enchanting glow. “Come on, have some faith in me. I’ll be careful.”

Crimson wings spread as he steps outside, but the door closes before you can watch him take off.

—————

Buzzfood.com

HAWKS SPORTS STIFFY ON THE JOB

Written by Yuki Burushito

Now, I know that I’ve been posting enough Hawks-related articles to last a year, but can you blame me with all the weird behavior he’s been exhibiting this month? You probably think that I have a boner for the guy, but let me tell you this: one of us has a boner, and it isn’t me.

Everyone’s favorite hawk was hiding a woodpecker in his pants today. The best part is that it apparently lasted hours, given that it was mentioned in several incidents throughout the day, but the clearest example was when he subdued a mugger at noon, which was filmed by a bystander and is already making the rounds across the web.

Yet another extreme apprehension from Hawks—though it doesn’t top the beating he gave to that frisky peacock—I sure didn’t expect the fast-working hero to swoop down on a fleeing thief and slam him into the ground. I’m certain that a few feathers would have done the job just fine. When the pinned mugger felt Hawks Jr. poking at his back, he lifted his busted face off the ground and screamed, “Is this shit turning you on?!”

While everyone is currently having a field day with that meme-able clip, the answer is most likely no. Hawks was hard before the mugging occurred. Since I’ll probably be writing about him again by...I don’t know, tomorrow, I’ll cut to the chase. You have probably heard the theories that Hawks is experiencing some sort of rut. 

Well, it’s time for me to come out and say that I fully support those theories. “But Mr. Burushito!” I hear you say. “If this is something as regular as a rut, how come he’s never acted this wild before?” My answer to that is: I have no idea. He’s still a rather young man; maybe whatever sexual cycles his body possesses have only started appearing recently.

Honestly, you can never be sure with mutant types. Their bodies never make any damn sense.

“I take offense to that last sentence.”

You didn’t react to Hawks’s comment as you both read the article on your phones. After seeing multiple images of ‘Hard Hawks’, as he’s been nicknamed, taken by several random civilians and shared on their social media accounts, you knew it was only a matter of time before these petty news sites decided to take a bite out of the fresh meat.

Maybe this was your fault for trusting the hormonal bird that was currently seated in front of you while you stood across his desk. The only reason you aren’t scolding him right now is because he already looks so damn miserable. He had removed his protective headphones and visor right after finishing his patrols. A desk fan was turned to its highest setting, blowing directly into the hero’s sweaty face as he tried his hardest to focus on the small screen in his hands. He hasn’t looked at you since you’ve entered the office, but distressed or not, there was a certain matter you had to discuss.

“The deputy apparently called me this morning,” you started, ready to see how he reacts.

You notice him tense for just a second as he continues to scroll through whatever it is he’s looking at.

“It says that I had taken the call, but I sure don’t remember that. What I do remember is that you were awake before me.” Your hands were on your hips, waiting for Hawks to answer to your unspoken accusation. “Well?”

He still stared down at his phone, but it didn’t seem like he was actually looking at anything, his mind elsewhere. “Yeah yeah, I talked to him,” he admitted groggily.

You’re more angered by the fact that the deputy never bothered to call you back, leaving you in the dark from whatever he and Hawks had discussed. “So, what did you two talk about? You know, during my call that was meant for me?”

Hawks finally laid his glassy eyes on you. The energy surrounding him was drastically different from this morning and it made you just a tad anxious. Your body truly didn’t feel up to it when you offered him more sex this morning, but you knew it would be better than him reverting to another delirious state. “In a nutshell, he wants us to keep fucking until I’m better.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What? He didn’t think it was important to tell me about this?”

He leaned far back into his chair and smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his neck. “Guess not. But hey, you’re doing your job anyway, already serving yourself to me the minute you see a hard-on.”

You glared, considering storming out of the room and calling that asshole immediately. “I don’t appreciate him expecting me to be your personal whore.”

“I know, I know. He’s a real douche, isn’t he? How about we both blow off some steam?” He was already scooting out of his chair and making his way around the desk. “I’m just making one mistake after another. Shoulda just said yes to you this morning. Never pays to be a nice guy, does it?” His voice was sounding rougher with each word, like his throat was changing into a sandpaper tube as he stopped right in front of you.

You trembled, making the mistake of looking down and spotting the erection that was very much still present.

For the sake of your still-burning body, you might need some time to mentally prepare for this. “Alright…but before we leave, just let me—”

“Leave?” Two hands clasped onto your shoulders hard, holding you in place. The raptorial eyes held yours captive, stirring up a heat within you despite your unease. “We’re doing this right here, right now.”

“Wha-I-but-” Your stutters were ignored as he turned you to the desk and bent you over, your back muscles screaming in protest. All of his weight was pressing into you, his deprived cock pushing against your ass.

“And everyone’s already left for tonight, so it’s just you and me.” He’s eagerly yanking your pants down then does the same for his own. 

His fingers wasted no time in groping your sex, the swipes against your folds triggering a steady flow of slick arousal. There should be no one else in the building at this time, but your paranoia still makes you clap a hand over your mouth as you gasp from his sinful touches.

“Mmm, already getting wet for me?” He cooed behind you, his breath feeling like heat emanating from an open flame. “My brave little hen, willing to take as many poundings as she can.”

That’s a pet name you haven’t heard before. Teeth scrape across the space between your neck and shoulder while the head of his cock lubricates itself along your fleshy petals. When he pierces you with a strong jab of his hips, the light nips on your skin become a full-on bite, muffling his own cry. For you, however, the sharp sensation of being filled so suddenly combined with the pain of his teeth pinching into the crook of your neck had you wailing through your hand.

He was already setting a quick pace, giving your bitten area a few apologetic licks before leaning back to properly grip your hips and plow you. Your entire body was rocked forward with each impact, the harsh stroking of your inner walls bringing forth a raw pleasure that you admittedly missed.

But that wasn’t enough to ignore the resurging aches all over you. Your sensitive ass cheeks have become very familiar with slapping against his abdomen, every pleasurable collision also shooting pain up your lower back, and his probing dick was showing no mercy to your delicate insides.

“Haw—ah, Hawks! You need…you need to slow down!” You quavered.

The only response was a series of savage pants and growls as his violent movements continued, informing you that all of his sense and reasoning has disappeared once again. You remember the warning he gave you this morning, and fear that his quip about breaking your pelvis may have been more than just a joke.

You try to twist yourself just enough to see his face and speak to him more directly, but a hand on your back shoves you hard onto the desk, leaving your breasts and belly to scrape against the wooden surface. At least you weren’t fully stripped for this.

How the hell did this happen so fast? He was speaking just a minute ago! Do the after-effects of Libido’s quirk ruin Hawks’s mind that quickly the second his dick touches a pussy?

A moan was being ripped from your throat with every thrust as he upped the speed and force. He was showing no signs of stopping, and your thighs were beginning to cramp. The mixture of colorful pleasure and throbbing pains was making every inch of you shake. His fierce sounds were becoming distant—even with your legs on the verge of giving out and your back muscles crying, you welcomed the fog of bliss that was ready to carry you away.

Your poor legs finally crumpled like frail sticks, only for the frustrated animal behind you to lift your hips up until your entire body was on the desk, arms now dangling over the edge. There was only enough time to reposition your numbed limbs into a low doggy position before Hawks was climbing onto the desk himself, crouching over you and wasting no time in continuing his pummeling.

“Haw…ah…nngh…” Your feeble attempt to speak was quickly squandered. The new angle allowed him to easily strike your more sensitive spots, making your moans even louder. The desk jolted with each powerful jerk of his hips, the feral hero’s wings extending and flapping in sync with his thrusts, papers flying off the desk from the gusts of wind. Through all of the soreness and delightful trembles, you wondered what the current scene looked like to a spectator—the sight of this delirious bird beast, sounding a loud lustful tune of primal urges and carnal desires as he hysterically claimed you.

Your eyes roll back as the hot ripples in your core grow into pulsating waves, Hawks’s unwavering strokes prolonging the intoxicating climax as you quiver under him. You thought you heard a sound from the staggering desk—a snap—but your mind was too far gone at the moment to care.

Hawks tried desperately to keep pumping through your tightening walls, but your delicious grasp on him was draining his stamina. You were gripping the edge of his workspace for dear life, the orgasmic throbs still wracking your body as he rabbit fucked you, ready to fill your womb with the load that has been prepared since morning…

It all happened in slow motion...the sound of wood and metal breaking, the weightless feeling of falling...you had registered it all just a second too late. Your abused body dropped with the collapsing desk, Hawks’s weight crashing down on top of you while papers slowly floated toward the floor. Both of you laid there in agony, the chair somehow falling over and onto Hawks for added insult. A few groaned words revealed that the winged man was fully aware again.

“Augh, fuck…my balls.”

—————

Wednesday

“Here’s all of the completed paperwork, Hawks sir!”

Hawks beamed at the intern entering his office with a stack of papers. “Ah, thanks, Springer! You’re a real lifesaver, ya know that?”

The aspiring ‘Bouncing Hero’ hopped excitedly on his peculiar coiled legs as he handed over the documents. “Thank you, sir! I’m always here whenever I am needed.” He bowed respectfully. “Although, I just…forgive me for feeling the need to remind you, but please do not forget that I took this internship to do hero work, not to sort and fill papers.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” Hawks assured him, taking the cursed heap of papers. You were usually the one that he shoves all of his office-related tasks on, but whenever you were preoccupied, he would pass the burden onto a trainee that was too starry-eyed to acknowledge that they were being used. Yes, he feels a little bad, but his hatred of reading endless forms was too strong for him to care much. “I gotta test your patience and comprehension first, then I’ll be taking you out into the field with me. You’re doing great!” He bullshitted with a smile.

Springer perked up at the words. “Of course! I’ll keep doing my best!” His eyes kept drifting to the large empty space in the room. “Sir, what happened to your desk?”

Hawks looked over at the open spot, feigning surprise as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh, right. I banged my handler on it ’til it broke.”

“…”

“…”

The teen searched the man’s eyes for several long seconds, looking for something, before bursting into boisterous laughter. Hawks joined in with his own chuckles.

“You’re very funny, sir! But I don’t think she would appreciate such a joke. Whatever happened, I hope you get a replacement soon!” He bowed again before walking—well, more like skipping out of the room.

Hawks’s smile didn’t fade when he was alone again, wondering where to place the heavy stack in his hands.

Sometimes the truth makes for the best lie.

—————

Pleasing Hawks when he was a drooling horndog was a challenging test of endurance, but at least it was simple and straightforward. All you gotta do is let him mount you and brace yourself.

But that option was currently out of the question. Your entire body was just too damn stiff and sore, every single movement feeling like the impaired motions of an unoiled tinman. Nevertheless, you still needed to get rid of Hawks’s brand new boner.

So here you were, back at his bed and kneeling on the floor, shyly licking at the swollen rod in your hands. You weren’t the most experienced at this, paying close attention to his noises and responses that came with every action from your fingers and tongue. Hawks was watching your performance with an agitated glare, which was just a tad troubling and added extra pressure.

You licked the prominent vein on the underside of his dick, tracing it up to his bulging head before taking him into the hot cavern of your mouth. He groaned through painfully clenched teeth; he seemed to be enjoying it, yet it looked like his frustration was only growing.

Not yet deterred, you began to suck at him, head bobbing up and down while your hand jerked the extra inches that you couldn’t take in. Your other hand gently held and caressed his enlarged sack, heavy and full of cum that refused to be freed into your mouth. His cock was twitching wildly in your throat, so he has to be close, right? Ignoring the burning in your back and….everything else, honestly, you placed all of your focus on engulfing as much of him as you could, tongue swirling all around him until he inevitably gives in.

But a hand grabs your head and yanks you off of him with a wet surprised gasp.

“Stop…stop…it’s just getting worse.” He choked in a broken voice, staring down at the impossibly hard and red erection.

You wiped off the saliva that had run down your chin. “Why won’t you cum?”

His thighs trembled from all of the unreleased tension; you rubbed them to hopefully calm him just a bit. “Fuck, I…it’s like I can’t do it unless I’m…dammit!” The sudden beat of his angry wings spooked you.

You drew a deep breath. You really weren’t up for this, but leaving him in this state would be too cruel. Not to mention it was putting him in a very sour mood. Hoisting yourself onto the bed (with a few pained whimpers), you faced away from him and lowered your upper body to rest your arms, your ass raised and ready for him.

“You know, Keigo,” you started casually, as if you weren’t laid out in such a compromising position. “When I took this job, I imagined the countless situations I could possibly end up in. I was afraid I’d get caught in the middle of some villainous scheme, like a hostage situation. My silly fangirl side imagined going on dates with my favorite hero. The list of scenarios went on and on.”

The man behind you didn’t say anything, so you kept going. “And yet, ‘presenting myself to Hawks so that he can hump me senseless’ was not on that never-ending list.

He gave an awkward laugh, still sounding as if his throat was constricted. “You don’t have to, babe. I can…I dunno…”

“Just fuck me already.”

Hawks said no more and took hold of your rear. “I’ll try to take it slow. I’ll try.”

He tried and failed. Once he penetrated you, he completely lost himself again. By the time he was satisfied, every fiber of your being was dimmed and immobilized. He helped you get tucked into bed that night.

—————

Thursday

“Please, sir. I’m quite concerned for my health. This would be easier if he was away from the excitement of his work.”

After mulling it over, you had decided to be the one to reach out to the deputy, since he didn’t seem interested in calling you again anytime soon. Your original plan was to brave through the fury of Hawks’s dick until this damn rut ended, just like the deputy intended without your say in the matter.

But when you had to visit the doctor for your pains today, and you walked out with a fucking crutch under your arm, you realized this was all a bit much.

At the moment, you were trying to negotiate for letting Hawks take at least a day or two away from work. The deputy didn’t seem convinced. “Hawks once managed to keep working for an entire day with a broken wing and no visits to the hospital, and you mean to tell me that he should rest just because he has the hormonal urges of a teenager?” His snobbish ass questioned.

“This is—!” You inhaled sharply through your nose, catching yourself and lowering your voice. “This is much stronger than that, sir. Without getting into detail, I have withstood some back-breaking nights.” You consider telling him about your recent hospital visit, but the remaining shreds of your pride wouldn’t allow you to share that. Even you didn’t want to believe that Hawks has literally fucked you until you couldn’t walk.

You heard him snort in your ear. Ugh. “Doesn’t sound like anything a steady dose of painkillers can’t fix,” he dismissed.

You gave up making him understand your suffering and tried something else. “Sir, Hawks has faithfully served the Commission since he was a child. He has become one of the most accomplished heroes this generation has ever seen. His skills and dedication have done nothing but help the Commission become a more positive icon all over Japan. Don’t you think such a loyal and hard-working hero deserves at least one day off?”

“No.”

Well, shit. “…Alright, um, thank you for taking the time to hear me. I’ll get back to my duties.”

“Yes, that would be great,” he said listlessly before hanging up.

What an asshole.

—————

“What happened?”

Hawks’s words carry a dangerous tone when he sees you enter his office with the help of your walking aid. It makes you pause.

Going by the sharp yet troubled look in his eyes, you could tell that the tone wasn’t directed at you. ‘Did someone hurt you?’  That’s what he was really asking. His concern always warmed you. “Nothing, I just…” You hate reminding yourself that this even happened. “The pains were getting really bad.”

It takes a minute for those words to sink in, then his eyes widen in some sort of amazement. “Oh.” A flurry of feathers fly off of his wings and form a small floating cushion in front of you. “There, have a seat. Don’t want you hurting anymore than you already do.”

You eye the levitating seat before approaching and lowering yourself onto it. It was like a soft yet firm pillow, and you didn’t miss how the feathers seemed to all shiver, red barbs shaking rapidly as you adjusted your rump.

“Thank you,” you said while resting the crutch onto your lap. Once you were comfortable, you looked at the hero and the brand new furniture between the both of you. “I like your new desk.”

“Thanks. This one is pure steel, much more durable.” He winked.

You return it with a roll of your eyes. “Wonderful. Anyhow, I want to discuss a local hero event coming in two weeks. Your presence would do well to—” you noticed that he was snickering, lips pursed in a strained effort not to fully laugh. “Did I say something funny?”

He shook his head while short amused breaths still escaped him. “I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting and all, but…” He was cackling now, hunching over the desk as he struggled to explain. “I can’t believe I put you in crutches!”

Your face burned with both embarrassment and anger at how hilarious he found the situation. “Hawks…”

He coughed and noisily cleared his throat. “Sorry, I promise to keep it in my pants from now on.” A mischievous grin was plastered on his face. “I mean, I don’t wanna put you in a wheelchair next!”

With a wheeze and happily flailing wings, Hawks keeled over onto the desk with his face buried in his arms, the laughs muffled but still going strong. You just watch with a frown, listening to his mumbled joke about how ‘once you go hawk, you won’t be able to walk’.

What an asshole.

—————

Saturday

Hawks was definitely getting better. You could tell with each passing day, taking mental notes on how he was having an easier time holding your gaze, or how he was able to stay close to you without growing in his pants. Thank god, because your body was still recovering. Another round of wild sex will only cripple you further.

That’s why the incident currently being reviewed on television was filling you with dread. You sat in the main room of Hawks’s house, the house that you practically lived in for nearly a week, watching coverage of the recent attack at the Fukuoka City Mall. The footage of various species of birds flying into the shopping center and swarming the unsuspecting civilians was almost comical, the colorful animals squawking loudly as they snatched every shiny valuable in sight.

A man with the head of a macaw, apparently going by the villain name of Parakill, stood at the center of the chaos, chirping excitedly as his fowl goons showered him in jewels and baubles. His robbery was cut short when small red blurs whizzed into the scene, pinning the criminal onto the floor and chasing around the army of birds until they surrendered their stolen goods. You weren’t prepared for the deafening chorus of tweets and shrieks when the winged hero stepped into the camera’s line of sight.

The restrained villain was cawing and screeching angrily, most likely commanding his birds. You couldn’t see Hawks’s face clearly due to the distance and quality, but you could still make out the intimidating glare as his wings slowly spread out into their full span, each individual feather looking slightly sharpened. Any bird that made a move was quickly poked with a red quill, each and every one of them eventually staying in place while uttering quiet submissive peeps. Parakill’s look of rage slowly morphed into one of fear. Once the danger was surely dealt with, Hawks called for any lingering citizens to leave the area while he retrieved the villain.

You were still in awe as the news switched to another story. Some sort of dominance was asserted there. You weren’t sure how, but it definitely happened. The worrying part was that tapping into his primal instincts like that has probably riled him up. Christ, he’s probably rushing over right now to fuck you into the mattress again.

Only about thirty minutes had passed when you hear the twist of the doorknob and the front door opening. You stand in anxious anticipation. How disheveled and hungry is he going to look? Is he going to jump you on sight?

But the Hawks that walks in is…composed, his face free of tension and layers of sweat as he spots you and offers a friendly smile. “Sup.”

You’re too stunned to give anything more than a “Hey” as he walks past you and heads for his room.

It’s a miracle. No sexual excitement after such a tense encounter with not only a villain, but another male bird mutant? Was he truly getting that much better? There wasn’t enough certainty to approach him while he was changing, so you stayed on the couch and stared at the large screen until he chose to come out on his own.

You were still channel surfing by the time he was strutting over in his loose and comfy clothes, plopping down onto the couch with a wing outstretched and tucking itself behind your back. You gulped—not sure what he had planned for you.

“Relax. You’re acting like I’m gonna eat you,” he teased, watching you flip through the TV’s guide.

“You’re not? I can’t be too sure after what happened today.” You turned to him, watching his keen golden eyes shift and meet yours. The gaze wasn’t glassy. It wasn’t predatory. “You really feel alright?”

“Haven’t felt this good in the past two weeks. It’s nice to be a civil human again.”

You relaxed a bit and shuffled in your seat, fully aware of how his wing was wrapped around your shoulder like an affectionate arm. “About the attack at the mall…” You began. “What exactly was happening there?”

“What, you mean what I did to the birds? Parakill was trying to sic them on me.” He straightened up with a grinning face that radiated pride. “So I rearranged the pecking order. His birds don’t answer to him anymore.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You didn’t. You can do that?”

“Sure can! It’s not that hard. I mean, don’t think that I have a bunch of attack birds at my command now.  Animal control took them in to be relocated, not to mention some of them were illegal exotics.”

“Ah, that’s…impressive.”

“Heh, remember this, babe,” he leaned in until his lips were grazing your ear, his lowered voice and hot breath making you shudder. “I’m always the top bird.”

You shake off his flirting and try to keep your composure. “Right, of course. I’m just really glad that you’re getting better.”

His wing pulled you in for a tight hug that made you squeak. “All thanks to my sweet hen of a handler. Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.” He heard your pained grunts and instantly released you. “Whoops, sorry.”

You rolled your stiff shoulders and sighed. “It’s fine. You’re not the only one who’s getting better. Just do me a favor and try to forget that I was ever this sore from sex.”

Hawks laughed softly as he took your hands in his. The gesture surprised you after experiencing days of rough and impatient touches. “Hey,” he was almost whispering, forcing you to lean in closer to hear him. “It’s been a wild week. My mind’s been all over the place and I’ve put you through a lot. And…” He looked away with his brows pinched in a pained expression, troubled over something you didn’t know about. Before you could ask, his face drew closer, until your foreheads were pressed together. “Mind if I do one more thing with you?”

You were completely lost. You didn’t understand the sudden tenderness, his somber mood, or why he was talking with some sort of finality to his words.

“Let me take you to bed.”

The fuck?

“Keigo,” you leaned away from him, paying no mind to how you already missed his warm closeness. “I said I was getting better, but I’m not that much better.”

He shook his head, bringing your hands closer to his chest. “No, not like that. Just…I wanna do this properly with you for once. Some nice, regular sex. Hell, doesn’t even have to be full-on sex, I just want to…feel you.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Feel me?” You repeated.

He nodded eagerly with a big-ass smile. The normally cheeky young man was acting so genuine right now.

It was hard to say no to that.

“Alright.”

Hawks said no more, pulling you up on your feet and taking you to the room you both have shared for several nights. He was quick in removing your clothes, peeling each article off smoothly before doing the same to his own. The mood felt so different from your other intimate meetups that you couldn’t help but feel modest all over again.

Calloused hands were gently pushing you down onto your back, and you watch as the handsome man above opens up his wings, his eyes closed as if entering a trance.

“Whenever we fucked, I never felt like I was really there,” he recalled out loud, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. “I could feel you, see you, hear you, but it’s like my body was moving on its own. I was in the backseat of my own head.”

With a deep inhale and exhale, he stared down at you with a look of desire, but not the savage kind. You’re not quite sure what it was…maybe the look of a lover.

Fingers traced your face, trailing down your cheek, brushing your lips, and skimming over your well-marked neck. “Now I finally get to feel you however I want.”

Your breath caught in your throat when his lips made contact with the flesh right over your pulse, planting a few light kisses before mouthing at your neck, the random swipe of a tongue making you gasp.

His open wings twitched in response at the small sound. He was trying to savor every single one of your reactions. That’s intense.

He was in no rush, mouth moving down slowly and stopping to observe the bruise near your shoulder. “Damn, I bit you hard. That’s…when we were in the office, right?” he asked.

You hummed and nodded. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t as painful as a fully grown man falling on top of me after ramming me through a desk.”

Hawks chuckled at the memory while rolling your breast around in his hands. “Man, that really crushed my nuts. I swear my voice was a pitch higher for the rest of the night.” He laughed into your tits, licking at the squishy mounds as he took in each of your shivers and moans.

“Maybe, but that was probably just from you crying about how you could no longer give me chicks.” Yeah, that was a weird time.

“Shh, that didn’t happen,” he denied.

“Yes, it did. I had to hold you as you sobbed.”

“Lies.”

“You were worse than I’ve ever been on my perio—ah!” A bite on your nipple silenced you.

Hawks shot you a playful glare, daring you to say more. When your mouth stayed shut, he gave a satisfied purr and sucked at the same perky bud, soothing the sting before moving on to the other.

You felt relaxed; this was all so much calmer than what you have gotten used to. While you won’t deny that his feral side was as pleasurable as it was tiring, at least you can finally take the time to breathe and soak up what he’s doing. Judging from his vibrating feathers, he probably felt the same.

He licked down your stomach while his hands ran down your sides until they reached the purple finger-shaped blemishes on your hips. He winced at the sight. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch.”

He nurtured the marks with his mouth, careful not to apply too much pressure and cause any pain.

“You don’t have to be so delicate,” you hesitantly tell him. “The day you were under the quirk’s influence, you uh, you were doing the same to the bruises on my back…felt kind of good.”

His lips curved into a devilish smile. “Oh, so you like a little pain? My innocent little hen?”

“Shut up,” you said with a blush. “It’s your fault that I’ve felt everything but innocent lately.”

“True, true. I didn’t mean to open you up to the wonderful world of rough play.” His mouth closes around a bruise and sucks hard, shooting a sharp pleasurable burn that traveled straight down to your core. “Ooooh, I felt that.”

You can only whimper as he laps at the sensitive area, but part of you wants him to bring that scary jolt of pain again.

“I wanna know,” he says between licks. “Just how much did you enjoy me letting loose on you? How many times did we do it the first day?”

A few more kisses are laid on your hips before he continues his descent. Your breath quickens in nervous excitement when he nestles his head between your legs, face dangerously close to your hot sex.

“Come on, hen. At least give me a guess.” He turns to your thighs and showers them with timid pecks.

The sheets beneath you crinkle under your death grip. “Don’t know…lost count after the seventh time,” you admit through gritted teeth.

“Aww, what a shame,” his mouth wanders further inside your thigh. “Do you know how many times you came?”

“I don’t know. A lot.”

He bit into you and enjoyed the resulting yelp. “Mmmm, definitely a lot. Enough to knock you out. So sad that neither of us remember just how thoroughly I wrecked you.”

His naughty lips are just an inch away from your nether ones, your breath quickening in anticipation. Hawks looks up at you, most likely enjoying the view of your heaving chest. But he does well in reminding you how much of a bastard he is by switching to your other thigh, subjecting you to another round of kisses.

“Keigooo,” you whine pathetically, feeling your aches as your muscles tense from the teasing.

“Hold on, I’ve got more questions. What was your favorite position?”

“What?”

“Come on, you’ve got plenty to choose from,” he licks the sweat that was beginning to coat your skin.

Both your embarrassment and his tongue were making it very difficult to answer. You stammer over your words while his mouth moves inward, but once again, he stops at your mound.

“You really can’t think of one?” He gives you a ridiculously sad face—large puppy eyes and a puckered bottom lip—it would have looked more innocent if he wasn’t so close to your most private area.

You realize that he wasn’t going to take any further action until you gave him an answer. “I…when I’m on my hands and knees…” You swallow despite the dryness of your throat. “…and you’re on top of me…”

“Ah,” he sighs, and you feel his thumbs part your outer lips like a damp pair of curtains. He stares down at the pussy that he has battered more times than either of you can count, and yet it drips for him even now. The feel of a single finger running down your wetness makes your entire body jerk. “You like it when I mount you like a dog?”

“Yes,” you choke.

He blows on your quivering cunt. “What do you like about it so much?”

“I…you…I don’t…”

“Do you just love feeling like an animal too? Love it when a crazed horny guy humps you into the floor?” He finally indulges you with a long lick from your hole to your clit, and the hot muscle already has you moaning. “Is that it?”

“Ah…maybe…” You answer, and he rewards you with another lick. Listening to his questions was becoming a challenge.

“Hmm, would you love it if I fucked you until my bed gives out? You’re a pretty expensive girl to mess around with,” he jokes. He then dives in, sloppily making out with your folds that have been begging for more gentle attention for days.

Your head thrashes against the pillow. His licks and sucks were both pleasurable and soothing against your beaten pussy. You were finally freed from his powerful stare when he closed his eyes and fully concentrated on eating you out. He alternated between sucking loudly on your velvety folds and lapping at your opening, sometimes dipping his tongue inside so that he can feel your walls attempt to grab him.

The building pressure in your belly has become an old friend at this point, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t excited whenever it arrived and begged it to explode and bring you back to that lovely state of euphoria. Hawks’s mouth was moving more fervently as he drank in more of your juices, as if your nectar was intoxicating him. His deep moans rattled your insides while he smacked his wet lips against every inch of your womanhood, giving your swollen clit a smooch before sucking hard.

“Mm…oh god…Keigo, please…”

He growled with your bud still in his mouth, blinding you with the electrifying pleasure that was only enhanced by the sudden intrusion of two fingers in your throbbing cavern. The slow inner massage guided you to the top where stars burst in your vision, each orgasmic throb bringing forth a shameless moan. The stimulated wings fluttered from the overwhelming pleasure surrounding them, Hawks giving light licks and kisses until you were back down to earth.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said breathlessly, as if he was the one that just got sent to heaven. “You felt amazing, so nice and clear.” His wings finally folded behind his back as he straightened himself and wiped his glistening face.

You were ready to drift away into a happy slumber until you saw Hawks move to get off the bed and spotted the very familiar hardness that was bobbing with his movements. “Wait! You’re…” Your eyes dart from his face to his erection.

“Don’t worry about that; fapping works again!” he told you cheerfully before changing to a devious smirk. “What, did you wanna watch or something?”

“No,” you snapped a bit more loudly than intended. “I…want you inside of me.”

He froze.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

He crawled back between your legs—clearly trying not to look too eager—and was already aiming his cock at your opening. Your nod of approval was all he needed to push inside and damn, that was one hell of a face and moan he made.

You reflexively braced yourself for an immediate pounding, but the throbbing length just stayed there, twitching in response to every pulse from your surrounding walls. Hawks appeared absolutely fascinated by the sight of him sheathed inside of you before looking up to your face, eyes filled with a warm lust, not the unfocused kind that you have gotten used to.

He pulled out slowly and pushed back in at the same speed. “Ooooh, fuck, baby. So hot…so tight…” He murmured with a broken groan. The lazy thrusts allowed you to feel every inch of him stretch you, his veins rubbing against you for added texture and stimulation. Your hypersensitive pussy appreciated the easy pace, and even better, it was also working for the hero above you.

His hips gradually sped up overtime, but never into something rough and aggressive. It was more like a grind, his abs rippling with every deep push. His flushed face has gotten dangerously close to yours, allowing you to watch the pulsating pupils of his avian eyes.

The only time he ‘kissed’ you was on the first day, though a more appropriate description would be that he simply smashed his mouth against yours. Now, as you stared at his parted lips while hot breaths blew onto your face, you had a strong desire to finally give him a proper one.

Good thing Hawks was a damn mind reader, because he brought his lips down to yours right after you finished the thought. They were soft, softer than you expected from a guy that flew at high speeds all day. Then again, he was also a sex symbol that needed to take care of himself.

His mouth was clearly more skilled than yours, so you let him take the lead, lips molding perfectly against yours with playful licks. The added intimacy sped up his hips and raised his volume, his entire mouth engulfing yours as he moaned into you. Your tongue found his and engaged in a frantic dance. He’s tensing up; you give him some encouragement by wrapping your arms and legs around his sweaty form, giving the base of his wings a few rubs. Your mouths part to catch your breaths, a strand of saliva linking your tongues together

“Cum inside me, Keigo.”

“Oh fuck.” Your words have him pumping erratically into you, but you’ve dealt with worse. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, whimpering at your legs that keep him locked in place and urging him to release his creamy essence as deep inside you as possible.

His trembles are powerful, but even better were the cracked whines vibrating against your neck as he emptied himself into your womb. You never get tired of watching his wings lifelessly drop whenever he wears himself out. You cradle his spent body—it’s all so similar to the first time he took you, except this time he moves just a little to the side to relieve you of some of his weight. He doesn’t move you for another round, he just relaxes into your cuddles.

“Thanks,” he says softly, already close to dozing off.

You’re not sure what exactly he’s thanking you for, but it makes you smile anyway. “You’re welcome.”

A wing stretches over you as a blanket, the warm soft feathers doing well to pull you into dreamland as well. Hawks’s heavy breaths tell you that he was already out.

You close your eyes. It looks like you both managed to survive the worst rut of Hawks’s life. This sure as hell wasn’t what you signed up for, but looking back, it wasn’t that bad. Except for the crutch. The crutch never happened.

As sleep claimed you, you wondered what the future had in store for you and the winged hero.

—————

Monday

“I just got fired.”

Hawks flinched at the news, scratching at his back awkwardly. “Aww man, that’s…oof, what a shocker.”

For some reason, his surprise didn’t sound very real. But you were way too upset at the moment to question it further. “Well, I guess it’s more like a demotion. They’re still allowing me into a position I have more experience in. It’s probably back to desk work for me,” You sighed, pacing back and forth across the office in a desperate attempt to expel some of your anger. “But I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that he basically kept me around to be your fucking fleshlight, and then threw me away after you were satisfied!”

Hawks shrugged with an apologetic look. “It really sucks, babe. You can’t forget: the real studs are the Commission. No one fucks more people than them. A lot of us are a one-time use to those guys. I’m just lucky enough to have a longer expiration date than most. Or unlucky. I dunno.”

You didn’t either, honestly. Hawks deserved better. “They’re such assholes, yet here I am ready to keep working for them. I so badly want to say ‘fuck you’ and leave, but…” You trailed off.

Hawks finished your sentence with a smirk. “They pay too well?”

Your head lowers in shame. “Yeah.”

A wing pats you on the back as he laughs. “I’m not judging, angel. That’s probably what keeps most of the guys around.” He steps closer to you, gently taking your chin to tilt your head back up. “I’m gonna miss you though. Whoever they send to watch my ass next isn’t going to be half as fun as you.”

The comment warms you. You take his hand and pull it further up to your face, letting him cup your cheek. “Thanks, but I was pretty bad at the job. They would have kicked me down sooner or later.”

He came in closer. “True, you sucked. But you’re the first handler I got to know so well. Inside and outside.” His chuckle is hot against you before he locks his lips to yours. The kiss becomes more heated than expected—he’s tugging at your lip and thrusting his tongue in and out of your mouth in a way that makes your thighs press together. You tear yourself away from his face, breathless.

“Hawks…?”

His tongue slowly runs over his upper lip. Goddamn. “Sorry, little hen. I was just hoping you’d like a nice goodbye gift. I can give you more, if you want.”

You’re so pissed off at yourself for throbbing in response to his offer.

He pulls you back in and takes hold of the waistband of your pants. “How about it? Wanna get to know my new desk a little better?”

The sounds resonating from the office that morning scarred Springer.

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

Surprise

Okay I’m soooo late, I’m sorry! This is my submission for @antoineroussel ‘s Summer Fic Exchange! I managed to dislocate my shoulder (again) and then get myself and half my house sick in the last week, so I’m so grateful for Demi and Emma’s patience <3  @leafs-forever , I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T (language)

Pairing: Kirby Dach/Reader

Words: 1599

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Kirby get ready for the NHL Awards.

Luckily, you had started getting ready before Kirby got home. You’re used to getting ready beside him, but it takes you longer to prepare for a fancy event. Getting dolled up isn’t as easy as people make it out to be.

By the time he gets home, you’ve already showered and are in the process of doing your hair. You keep it simple, just cleaning it up a bit and putting in some product to make it shine for the cameras. You can hear Kirby moving around, hanging up his bag and probably grabbing a glass of water. With the amount of water that boy drinks, you’d think he’d live in the bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” he greets when the two of you meet in the bedroom. He plants a lingering kiss on your lips, smile soft and relieved as he looks into your eyes. That look never fails to make your heart melt, touched by the way that he feels relaxed and safe around you.

You’ve been together for quite a few years, which is probably how you move around each other so easily. He strips and throws his clothes into the hamper on his way to the shower, and you take the opportunity to smack his ass as he passes by. He jumps and tries to give you a scolding look, but the smile glued to his face gives him away.

Needing to shower multiple times in a day has made him quick with it, so he’s out in time to zip your dress. You’ve already put your jewelry on, just a classy silver necklace-bracelet combo and a few different sized fashion rings. You like the way that they sit at different parts of your fingers, highlighting your hands and making your fingers look long and elegant.

You had tried to convince Kirby to wear something interesting, rather than just a plain black suit. It had kind of worked. The suit was still black, but it had a black satin trim with a subtle pattern that gave the whole look a little something special. The NHL Awards is supposed to be a fancy event, so he didn’t want to do anything too crazy.

You’d been to the award ceremony a couple times before, when teammates and friends had won honors. This was the first time Kirby himself was getting one, and you’re beyond proud. The Art Ross was a huge deal, and it was amazing to have Kirby officially alongside the likes of Gordie Howe and Mario Lemieux.

Once your dress is zipped, you head back into the bathroom to do your makeup. You know it’ll have to be a bit more dramatic and involved to show well on the cameras, so you take your time to get it right. You chat with Kirby through the door as he finishes air drying on the bed, sharing about your days as you usually do when you’re both home.

He’s half dressed by time you finish your makeup, fanning your face to make your setting spray dry faster. You head out into the kitchen to get yourself some water and kill a few minutes until Kirby finishes dressing and doing his hair.

“Can you grab my cufflinks, please?” He calls from the bathroom, “They’re in my bag.” You shout back an affirmative, making your way to the entryway.

His bag hangs next to yours, so you take it down, sitting on the floor to root through it. While your bag is organized neatly so that you can find things easily, Kirby’s backpack is a disaster. You take out clothes, push past empty Tupperware containers, finally finding a velvet box all the way at the bottom. It isn’t until you’ve pulled it out that you realize it’s far too small to be a cufflink case. Plus, you see an appropriately sized box leaning against a notebook at the bottom.

First things first, you grab the larger box to check inside. The cuff links are there, so you set it aside to bring to him. You take a few deep breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart. It doesn’t work. The weight of the small box in your hand feels immense, and lifting the lid is a Herculean effort.

The ring is silver, or maybe platinum or palladium. There are two gemstones as the centerpiece, a garnet and sapphire, entwined with a twisting infinity symbol that morphs into the band. His and your favorite stones, tied together perfectly. It’s beautiful.

That motherfucker.

Yes, you’re happy that he’s planning to propose, ecstatic even. Kirby is the love of your life, and you’ve intended to be with him as long as he’ll allow, ring or not. But yeah, the ring is a nice assurance.

Back to why he’s an asshole. He’s had this ring in his bag for who knows how long. Are you mad that he hasn’t already proposed? No. That he’s given no hint that this was coming? Nah. You’re mad because the ring you got for him has been sitting in your underwear drawer for weeks, and this jerk was going to beat you to the punch. Steal your thunder. Well, he’s got another thing coming.

You’ve been waiting for just the right moment to pop the question, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been procrastinating out of anxiety. Yeah, he’s your soulmate, but there’s still that annoying bit of fear that he could possibly say no. You’d thought about proposing tonight after the ceremony, or maybe behind the scenes after he received his award. You can’t seem to remember why you decided against it.

You pocket the ring box and shove everything back into his bag. Maybe you shouldn’t have sat on the floor in your dress, but you can always have Kirby dust you off if needed. Before you go to him, you open your top drawer as quietly as you can manage. You know exactly where the box is, so it only takes a second to grab.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest as you take another steadying breath on your way to the bathroom. He turns to you when you enter, hair fluffy and suit slightly rumpled. Even after all your time together, he still takes your breath away.

“Thank you, love,” he says when you hand him the cufflink case. He turns back to the mirror to check his hair one last time, before looking down to focus on getting his cuffs properly buttoned. You take a step to the right to ensure that you’re out of his line of sight, carefully adjusting your skirt as you go to one knee.

“You ready?” he asks, turning to where you were just standing. His left hand freezes where it’s tugging his shirt cuff into place, mouth falling open slightly when he sees you on the floor. You raise the box in your shaking hands, forgetting everything you’d been planning to say for the past month.

“Yeah,” you say instead, “I’m ready.” You open the box to present the ring, hoping you don’t sweat your makeup off in anticipation.

“Me too,” he replies, smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen. You’re glad that you don’t have your heels on yet, because you spring up from the ground to wrap him in your arms. Your smiles make kissing difficult, but you can’t seem to stop, anyway. You bury your face in his neck after, glad you’d used a lot of setting spray. A makeup faceprint on his suit would be kind of funny, but probably wouldn’t look the best.

“So, do I get that ring at some point, or?” Kirby teases. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I don’t know, do I get an official yes?” you quip back, already taking the ring out of the holder.

“Yes, you do,” he says confidently, “And yes, I do.” You have to kiss him again for that one. The ring fits perfectly when you slide it onto his finger, hoping he can feel the garnet embedded into the inside of the black band. He kisses you once more afterward, and you can tell he’s squealing with joy on the inside just as much as you are.

“I have to go grab something,” he says, pulling away, “You’re not gonna believe this.” He doesn’t get two steps away before you grab his hand, turning him back toward you. You pull the second ring box out of your pocket, going for a smug smile but probably just looking like a dork.

“You mean this?” you ask, reveling in his shocked expression. Now it’s his turn to punch your shoulder, laughing brightly.

“You’re the worst!” he says, grinning nevertheless. He snatches the box out of your hand while you laugh.

“Turn around,” he orders, “I gotta surprise you too!” You only laugh harder at that, barely able to force yourself to settle as he turns you by the shoulders to face the opposite direction. Once he says “okay”, you turn back to him, giving the most over dramatic performance of your life as you act surprised. You’re both laughing too much for him to get much out, though you’re sure he had a planned speech too.

The ring sliding over your skin is an amazing feeling, but nothing compares to the way he wraps his arms around you once again, resting your foreheads together. You lose track of time looking into his eyes, amazed that you’ve somehow managed to find someone so perfect for you.

Now you have to call your mom so she doesn’t find out through an article. Oops.

[melisusthewee]

OC Interview: Quinn Trevelyan

This took... a while. But it was such an interesting meme! Thank you so much @noire-pandora @morganlefaye79 @cleverblackcat and @darethshirl for tagging me! I almost sort of gave up on this and went back to my Warden as she would be much more open and candid about things, but when have I ever done the easier task?

For context, we will say that this interview was organized by Ambassador Montilyet once the Inquisition had comfortably established itself in Skyhold and its reputation had begun to grow, generating curiosity and interest among several circles across the south. Its subject found the whole idea questionable at best, but Josephine has her ways of wearing the Inquisitor down.

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

"Formally? Are you sure you want to write all of this down? Lord Inquisitor Quinn Julius [he grimaces] Barrington Trevelyan... His Most Holy... Herald of Andraste... etc etc. Look, just put down 'Quinn.' That's good enough."

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

"I - what? I'm a man. And everything else is no one's business but my own. Unless this is a proposition. In which case - hang on, are you still writing?!"

Where and when were you born?

"Ostwick, 9:08 Dragon. If you want more details on the event, you'll have to go and write to my mother. Except please don't, as I don't want to read about it."

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

"I've used a bow since I was eight years old and I assure you I am even better than everyone says. You can go and check the competition board if you like. I'm surprised they haven't barred me from taking part yet... probably because I'm the one in charge. [he winks]

"There's an art to it. Everyone looks at a bow and thinks they can handle it just like everyone thinks they can pick up a sword and flail around until they hit something. But longbows aren't like you're plucking the strings on a harp. The average broadsword is what - two pounds? Compare that to the average draw weight of eighty-one pounds. You have to be strong, accurate, and careful. If the string's too taut, your aim will be off at best... at worst, it will snap and you'll lose an eye.

"As for style? Put down deadly. Yes, just like that. You didn't really think I'd give away all my secrets, did you?"

And finally, are you happy?

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Family and Friends

What is your family like? What is your relationship like with them?

[there is an extremely long silence]

"They're Trevelyans. There are a lot of them, they're wealthy, chances are that someone somewhere knows at least one of them. And they are all - well almost all of them - are all the way in Ostwick and I am here. And that's the best thing for all of us.

"...Yes, I did say almost. One of my brothers is - or was - a templar, and the Order's sort of not really around anymore so he stuck around with the Inquisition. Can you also interview him? Sure, if you want to. He's never had an interesting thing to say in his entire life though, so you're going to be disappointed. I'm the one with the looks and the personality."

Have you ever run away from home?

"There was one time when I considered becoming a bard - not the Orlesian sort - and just slipping away during one of the Grand Tourneys. I imagine no one would have noticed. But even I knew that was a very foolish idea as I didn't know how to play any instruments."

Would you want to get married or have children?

"No. Marriage is so... limiting. Why tie yourself down to one person? The idea is so dull."

Do you secretly hate any of your friends?

"What is the point of hating anyone secretly?"

What friend knows everything about you?

"No one. And anyone who claims otherwise is lying. Trust me."

Asked by fans

Can you read and write? Did you go to school?

"My father's the Bann of Ostwick. Do you really think they would have let me grow up without tutors? Life certainly would have been more fun that way, but no... I had lessons. I will admit that reading and writing is useful and important, but I'm not sure how important it was to learn to sing the Chant in its original Orlesian... unless you're trying to seduce someone who is very into that."

The scariest prediction you made that later came true?

"Hold on, did someone claim I was a fortune-teller? I'm Andraste's Herald, but she's the prophet, not me. I'm not making predictions about anything. I don't do that. Please don't start telling people that I do."

Do you have mental or physical problems?

"My back aches when it rains... old war wound and all. [he laughs] No, I've never been in a war... well, maybe depending on how you look at the current situation this might be my first. But I'm perfectly healthy. Make sure you put in that I was bright-eyed, alert, firm-chested..." [he continued but the transcript did not, despite his insistence to the contrary]

What's your main goal right now?

"Well, that's a complicated thing to answer. We're here to set things right. I'm here to keep the world from falling apart, and it isn't easy, and not everyone is amenable to stability. But I'm going to do it anyway."

Choices

Drink or eat?

"I don't think that's really an either/or choice."

Cats or dogs?

"If this is being published in Ferelden then I feel I should answer dogs. But I'm fond of cats too. Well, maybe fond isn't the right word. I am... amenable to both animals. There are a few cats around Skyhold that we keep as mousers, and only one of them is particularly mean. The rest are all right, and fond of chin scratches."

Optimist or pessimist?

"If you assume the worst then you can only ever be pleasantly surprised."

Sassy or sarcastic?

"Is there a difference? There is? Huh..."

Have You Ever:

Been caught sneaking out?

"Yes. So then I got better at it. And as long as I was back in my bed by sunrise, no one was the wiser. Oh, I'm certain this isn't new information to my parents. Trust me, nothing you write down about me is going to cause any greater scandal than all the times the city guard had to escort me back to my family's estate."

Broken a bone?

"I had my cheek broken in a tavern fight once. Cracked the skull right around my eye right about... here. [he taps his cheek just below his eye] It swelled up terribly and my father made me live with it for two entire days before he finally summoned a healer from the Circle to set it right. He thought it would teach me an important lesson, and in some way it did... just not the lesson he was hoping for." [he grins]

Did you get flowers?

"No, I can't say I ever have. [a pause] I'm going to be inundated with bouquets now, aren't I?"

Ghosting someone?

"Ah. Um. Well. Look, mornings are made of regret, so I don't intend to stick around for them."

You pretended to laugh at a joke you did not get?

"If I don't get the joke then it means it isn't a very good one and the person telling it shouldn't probably know that."

Oh lord, this took me forever... I hope this was amusing if not interesting though!

Tagging: @inquisitoracorn @rosella-writes @1000generations and anyone else who wants to do this and has yet to be tagged!

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Sirius’s daughter {Part Two}

Part one

-Remus took you to James and Lily’s funeral, knowing that you had no idea what was happening, but he had to go..... he had to know it was real.

-He also took you to Peter’s funeral.

-On full moon nights Dumbledore would come get you from the cabin and take you to Hogwarts. He had a spare bed set up for you in the office, and you would sleep there under the window, Fawkes perched at the foot of your bed standing guard. 

-When you were older some nights you would stay with Hagrid in the Hut. He loved having you around, and would teach you all about the garden, the grounds, and the magical creatures.

-You often asked Remus when your father was coming home. He didn’t tell you until you were three that Sirius wasn’t coming home for a very long time.

-The first year you lived with him, he would find himself going to bed heartbroken, exhausted from trying to be strong for your sake all day. His tears freely falling as his mind flashed back to a happier time.

-After that first year it happened far less frequently.

-Remus built you a spare room, and filled it full of the books Lily bought you from the flat, along with photographs of the past events.

-He also got your stuffed animals that represented the Marauders, and added to it a stuffed Lily. They sat on your bookshelf.

-One of the photos was of Harry and you, and when you first saw it you asked, “What happened to Harry?”

“Well, he went to live with Lily’s sister.”

“Can we go see him?”

“Unfortunately not, see Lily’s sister is a muggle, and Auntie Lily always said that her sister was not a fan of wizards. So I doubt she would find our presence welcoming.”

-One night you were sitting at the table when you asked, “Uncle Mooney, did Daddy kill Uncle Prong and Auntie Lily?”

“No my love, he didn’t. They were killed by a very bad wizard, who wanted to hurt Harry.”

“But why? Harry is just a harmless baby, right?”

“You are far smarter than your father.” Remus smiled, “You are right my love, but this wizard was scaried of Harry, and that why he attacked Uncle Prong, and Auntie Lily.” Remus sighed, before standing, “I am going to my room very quick, is your bag packed for Hogwarts?”

“Yes Mooney.” You replied with a smile, as he retreated towards the master room, and towards his bed. Crouching down he withdrew a old shoe box and pulled back the lid to reveal a stack of envelopes, each filled with parchment addressed to both you and him, your father’s handwriting filled the pages. However it was the envelope at the bottom of the stack that Remus needed to reread.

Mooney,

I have to apologize, for these last few months I have been withholding a secret from you, I thought you had turned on us. I was convinced that you had switched sides, and convinced our own friends, our brothers that you couldn’t be trusted. This assumption also lead me to make the worst decision of my life.

I convinced James and Lily to name Wormtail as their secret keeper, in fear that you had told Voldemort I was the Potter’s secret keeper, since I was their closest friend, and The Godfather of their child. James was insistent that he didn’t trust anyone more, but my desire to protect my family led me to lead them to their ultimate demise. That is why I went after Wormtail, and unfortunately he escaped. My guess is he is in some sewer somewhere as the rat that he is, cowarding away from the truth of his crimes.

I am sorry I ever doubted you, and I am sorry my decisions have now no doubt forced you into the role of fatherhood, a role I know that you have always longed for, but never felt you desired. I know Dumbledore has probably brought you my sweet [Y/N], and asked you to take her in. I know you love her as much as James, Lily, and I did, but that you are scared she will judge you once she learns of your condition. I promise you she won’t. I only ask one thing of you Remus..... don’t let her grow up thinking her father betrayed his friends, tell her the truth, tell her I love her.

My dearest brother, I love you, and I ask that you forgive me for what I have done. I will make this up to you, and when I get out, I will not only hug my daughter, but also you.

Padfoot

-Remus never told you about the letters

-The day after you returned from that trip you looked at Remus, “Uncle Mooney, can we plant lilies?”

“Of course Love.” He smiled, as you both went out to the car he had stored away in the garage, and drove to town. That afternoon you both planted Lilies in the entire flower box infront of the cabin windows, a smile on both your faces as you chattered.

-Hargid loved when you visited, you were obsessed with learning about the different creatures on the grounds.

-Remus loved having you in the cabin with him, he tried as hard as he could to raise you the way he imagined Sirius would want you to be raised.

-Remus hated your traumatic threes, he remembered Lily once joking with Sirius about how you will be a rebellious two year old once you hit the terrible twos, but he was not prepared for it to hit when you were three.

-However there was no doubt in his mind you were Sirius’s child, even at a young age you and your father shared a similar sense of humor.

-When you weren’t being a rambunctious toddler, Remus enjoyed taking you for strolls in the forest, he would watch as you touched every tree, and tried to smell all the flowers. He would carry a book with him as well filled with all the different plant varieties, and whenever you found a new one, you and him would sit on the forest floor and rummage through the book until you identified the plant.

-The night after the full moons were always the hardest on Remus, he was still wide awake from sleeping all day, but Dumbledore always brought you back after the great feasts. Remus would sit with you on the couch as you raved about all the professors he had loved while in school, and then at 9:30 he would put you to bed. As soon as you would drift off though he would sit there and watch you sleep, his mind racing with all the possibilities life had to offer you. It also though was flooded with the occasional dread, for you were the daughter of Sirius Black, a man who was now marked as a traitor and a murderer, he feared this would make you the victim of relentless teasing, and isolation among your peers. But he couldn’t let that consume his thoughts as he watched your chest rise and fall.

-Remus always made you pancakes for breakfast, a lesson he learned from Lily when he went to visit her one summer before their fifth year. Her handwriting still graced the page of his journal, which he had open on the counter every time he made them, even though he had already memorized the recipe.

-Snack time always consisted of chocolate.

-He began homeschooling you when you turned 4, your favorite lessons were writing, and defense against the dark arts.

-You once asked why your father never wrote you, Remus lied and said he had no idea, even though Sirius wrote you and him letters constantly. He stored them all in the box.

-When you would go to Hogwarts McGonagall would always bring you into her classroom after lessons were over, and tell you about her days as a quidditch player, and about how your Uncle James was the best chaser she had ever seen.

-You figured out Remus was a werewolf, you were five, and while he tucked you in you let it slip that you knew. He just looked at you in disbelief, but you just smiled, “I mean it makes sense, Uncle Mooney, I mean why else would they call you that?”

“How long have you known about my.... condition?” He finally asked, disbelief still in his voice as you shrugged, “Since about a month before my fourth birthday.”

-One day you offered to stay with Remus during a full moon, however he looked at you and smiled, “No my love, I will be fine, besides I know then that you are safe, and I promised your father I would keep you safe.”

-When you were in the castle, Snape avoided you.

-Dumbledore had already guaranteed that you would be attending Hogwarts, much to Remus’s joy.

-Normally he would read to you from the thousands of books he has filled your room with, however occasionally you would look at him and ask for a story about him and the rest of your family, and with a pained smile he would reminisce about the 10 years of friendship he had.

-When you were 5 he explained to you what Azkaban was, and how that’s where your father was.

-When you turned 6 he took you to Diagon Alley for the first time, you absolutely loved it.

-You were 7 when you asked Remus, “Uncle Mooney, how did Voldemort find Uncle Prongs, and Auntie Lily?”

“What do you mean darling?”

“Well they were in hiding, he shouldn’t have been able to find them, I mean they were apart of one of the most intelligent wizarding organizations in London, and I am sure the Order would have the necessary tools to hide them. So how did he find them?”

“Only one person knew where the Potters were hidden, they were the secret keeper...”

“You mean my father?” You cut him off, as his eyes met yours, “Are you trying to tell me Daddy turned them over to...”

- Your eyes were watering, and Remus watched as your mind processed the new information. After several moments of silence you bolted from the kitchen and slammed your bedroom door.

-After a few hours Remus softly knocked on your door, “Love, can I come in?”

Your room was silent, but the door slowly opened several seconds later, and the imagine broke Remus’s heart. Your eyes were rimmed red, and bloodshot, your face flushed, and the shine of your tears reflected the cabin lights. Your fingers did a quick pass against your cheeks as you whispered, “My father would never turn on the Potters.”

“I know Love.” He lied, because even though he got letters daily from Sirius, pleading to his best friend to believe he was innocent and to give him any news of his little girl, Remus wasn’t sure if he even believed Sirius.

-That night Remus told you the story about how he first met you, and how shocked he was when James called him after speaking to his mother, who had spent the whole day helping Sirius prepare to be a father. You smiled the whole story, as you cling to the black dog plushie Lily had bought you.

-After that you both never brought the subject up again, however you always knew your father was innocent.

-When you turned 8, you had basically mastered basic potions, and whenever you visited Hogwarts, insisted on showing Snape.... however he would tell Dumbledore to watch, and leave the dungeon.

-The day before you turned 9, it was a full moon, meaning you spent your ninth birthday in the castle. You desperately wished that Remus could have been there, but before you left he gave you a big hug, “I promise Love, when you get back I will have the grandest cake for you.”

“You say that every year Uncle Mooney.” You smiled before looking to Dumbledore, “You know if you two would just let me go to Olivandars you wouldn’t need to come collect me all the time.”

“Yes, and we would all get in trouble for you having a wand before you come of age, and for using magic outside of Hogwarts.” Dumbledore reminded you as you rolled your eyes at him, both smiling as the Black sas came out.

“Yes, but Dumbledore if I remember correctly you have connections within the ministry, prehaps...”

“I fear not even I would be able to save you from the punishment of those crimes, however don’t worry my dear, two more years, and you will have the wand of your dreams, and be able to practice magic at Hogwarts, just like everyone else.”

“You two are no fun.” You retorted as the two men just looked at each other and chuckled.

-That night you went to Hagrid’s hut, the lights shining on the freshly cut grass as you climbed the stairs alone. Your tiny fist pounding against the wood as you waited for the warm glow from inside to wash over you. When Hagrid opened the door however you saw he was wearing a party hat, “[Y/N]! Just the angel I wanted to see.”

“Hello Hagrid, seen any exciting creatures today?” You leaned forward and hugged the tall man, his lips curling up as he replied, “It just so happens I did, tell me [Y/N], have you ever heard of a Billywig?”

“Don’t joke like that Hagrid, Billywigs are only in Australia, and besides they are extinct.”

“I saw it in a book, see Professor Kettleburn was here showing me one of his new textbooks, and they have a whole section on those nasty little buggers.”

“Oh, I do love when he gets new textbooks.” You smiled as you noticed the small cake on the table, “Hagrid, why is there a cake on the table?”

“Well it isn’t every day that your favorite little girl turns nine.” He replied, “Baked it myself, figured you would rather a homemade chocolate cake instead of one made by the elves in the kitchen.”

-It was a small, round, pink cake, with your name written in green frosting (it looked very similar to the one he made Harry on his birthday), a huge smile on your face as you looked over to him, “I love it.”

-That night you slept on Hagrid’s couch, which had happened many times before. Fang laid on the floor in the front of the couch, your hand gently touching his fur with your finger tips, as Hagrid laid a quilted blanket over you.

-That day you sat in Dumbledore’s office, your nose in a book from the Library, your legs curled up under you as you flipped through the pages. Fawkes sitting with his eyes on you as you sat in silence, which was interrupted by a chuckle from Dumbledore.

“[Y/N], have I ever told you about the time your father played muggle music on his Walkman at top volume, and danced around the great hall when he returned from Christmas break?”

“Never.” You replied, closing the book, and looking towards the elder, for he had never really told you anything about when your father attended school, or was in the order.

“I believe the song was called Cry For Me Argentina, somehow James and him had planned out an entire choreographed dance, in which James was throwing rose petals behind your father, who was dramatically twirling down the center aisle of the Great Hall. Poor Remus and Peter trailing behind them, trying their hardest to make it look like they knew what was even going on.” Dumbledore reminisced, as you smiled.

-That’s how the rest of the night went, and at some point McGonnagall joined in, adding her own stories. “Your father is the reason I stopped using the word serious, ever time I did in class, or in the common room he would reply, They’re not serious, I am.”

-When you returned that evening to the cabin, Remus had decorated the entire cabin, streamers hung from the ceiling, as the floor was littered with balloons. The table was set, and platters were stacked high with all your favorite desserts. A bowl filled with chocolate sat on the coffee table, and in the middle of the counter space sat a chocolate cake, covered in your favorite fruit, and homemade frosting.

-He let you stay up extra late that night, both of you sat on the couch with your noses in books. Once midnight came around, you looked to Remus, and excused yourself. After hugging him and shutting your door he let out a sigh and opened the drawer to the side table, his hand pulling out a perfectly new envelope, addressed to you, and opened. His fingers slipping into the tear and extracting a piece of parchment,

My Sweet [Y/N],

Today you are nine, oh how I wish I could see you. I am sure you are just a beautiful as I was at your age, and probably just as troublesome to your Uncle Remus. Someday I hope to see you again, or hear from you, so that I can tell you just how much my heart longs for you. I can never make up for the years we have lost, I have tried to think of a way a thousand times but every solution is never enough, nothing I can ever say or do will ever make up for the fact that I am the reason they are dead, and that the real traitor is still free, probably hiding in some dumpster somewhere, as the guilt of his actions naw away at his soul, or for the fact that my best friend is now the one tucking you in at night, and reading you stories, and feeding you chocolate after 10pm, just like he did to me countless nights. You are in good, safe hands my darling [Y/N], but alas they are not the hands you belong in. I would kill for just one chance to see you again on your birthday, I can still picture in my head how you looked on your first birthday, when your Aunt Lily decorated her entire flat, and slaved away for hours on your cake. Poor Prongs had to come hid out at our place just to avoid stressing her more. I doubt you remember that, but sometimes I like to think you do still remember them, and how much they loved you. You were the star we all needed in our blanketed midnight sky, and I can only hope you are that same joyous light for Uncle Mooney, who sometimes forget there is joy in life, and that our alements don’t define us. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you, or the little family we had.

Happy Birthday my Love,

Dad

-Remus’s eyes watered as he read the letter over and over before walking into his room and adding it to the box, his mind wandering far from the current moment in time, and back to that small flat 8 years ago, when they were all smiling with happiness on your first birthday.

-That night he chose to stay in his own room, and look through his own memory keepsakes from his time at Hogwarts, tears freely running down his face as silent sobs scratched at his throat.

-When you awoke the next morning, he had already dried his tears, and wore a smile for you, as though nothing had happened.

-When you turned 11, Remus took you to Diagon Alley, and bought you everything he remembered needing his first year of Hogwarts.

-You were so excited to go to Ollivander’s, your grin was ear to ear as he stated, “No doubt you are a Black child, you have the same wildness behind your eyes as your father and uncle, let us hope however you are not as twisted as...”

“That is quite enough.” Remus interrupted, “We would like to see your finest wands please?”

-That was the first time you had ever experienced someone directly saying something negative to you because of who your father was, your heart torn as you took the first wand into your hands, “Unicorn hair core, black walnut wood, 10.5 inches.”

“Well give it a flick dear.” Remus encouraged, however at the flick of your wrist, all the wands rocketed off of the shelves.

“I’m sorry Mr. Ollivander, but I think we might need to try another.” You smiled shyly, as you placed the wand down immediately.

“I would say so, let me see if we have something more appropriate.” He forced a smile as he retreated towards the back, “Prehaps this will be more family appropriate, your grandmother had a similar one, Dragon heartstring core, black walnut, 8 inches.”

-When you gave it a flick, a small beam shot out of it, and landed on the papers, causing a small fire to overtake the top of the stack. Withdrawing his wand Remus quickly extinguished the flame, however Ollivander’s attention was on something else, and quickly he turned on his heels and made his way towards the wands scattered on the floor, mumbling to himselfbefore loudly exclaiming, “This is the one, I can feel it my dear, almost exactly as another wand I sold back in the day, it is just a 1/4 inch shorter, measuring at 10 inches, it’s made of cypress wood, and the core is unicorn hair.”

-Remus’s eyebrow raised as Ollivander named off the characteristics of his own wand, but before he could say anything you had the wand in hand, and without even a flick, it immediately started to shine, a slight breeze overtook the room as Ollivander smiled, “The wand chooses the witch Miss Black, and it seems you have far more in common with Mr. Lupin than you thought.”

-When you returned home you looked at Remus, “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.” You smiled

“No problem Love, however I am exhausted, so how’s about we turn in early for the night.”

“Of course Uncle Mooney.” You replied as you turned into your own room, and shut the door, leaving him to stand in the living room and wonder about the future.

-He addressed his issues to Dumbledore the next time he saw him, “You don’t think the others will bully her for her father’s crimes, do you?”

“I highly doubt any of her peers will even know the story of her father’s crimes, she will be fine Remus.”

“And what shall we do about Sirius, I mean I wouldn’t put it past him to send her a letter while she is at school. I don’t want her head filled with his lies.” Remus inquired, as he looked out the window to see you tending to the lillies.

“Sirius is no threat to her at Hogwarts, she will be safe Remus, I promise.” He reassured him as he let out a shaky breath, “I would hope so.”

“Besides she has Black blood in her, and was raised by 1 of the best tricksters in Hogwarts history, and was brought up with James Potter, she can no doubt handle herself if trouble arises.”

-You were insistent on taking the train your first year, even though Dumbledore offered to take you straight to Hogwarts, “I want to be treated as a normal student Dumbledore.”

“And so you shall.” He smiled

-Remus was secretly falling apart on the inside when he was walking you to platform 9&10, his mind filled with thoughts of all the trouble you could get into, the things you could be bullied for, but also at the sense of loss he was going to feel, the longest he had ever been away from you in the past nine years was 24 hours, and now he wasn’t going to see you again until Christmas. However all of that melted away when he saw your smile, and for a second it was like he was seeing the smile of an 11 year old Sirius Black.

-You got to 9 3/4 beautifully, Remus right behind you as you pushed your cart towards the enormous train, the platform was filled with adults and students, all trying to sort through the chaos.

-Before boarding you wrapped Remus in the tightest hug you could muster, “I’ll write you every day, and I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

“I know Love.” He whispered, as you looked up at him, a excited smile on your face, “I love you.”

“I love you too Uncle Mooney.”

-Those were the last words you said to him before boarding the train, his feet planted firmly on the platform until the train pulled away, his eyes watching as the train got smaller the further it went towards the horizon, until it was completely out of sight. A shaker breath released from his lungs, unaware he was even holding it in, as the reality of the situation set in, for the first time in a long time..... he was completely alone.

-Upon arriving home, the cabin was pitch black, and silent as the grave. His hands reached out towards the light switch, which flooded the room with a harsh yellow glow. His feet carried him straight into his room, to where his bookshelf stood. His fingers running across the spines of each book until he found the one dated for 1979, withdrawing it he looked at the cover of the photo album and retreated to your room. Once inside, he took a deep breath and was overwhelmed with the scent of you, a ping of sadness overtaking him as he sank onto your mattress, and opened the book to see the animated faces of his friends. Each page holding a memory, both before and after you entered their lives, as he relived the moments in his head. He stayed up all night looking at all the albums he had created those past 11 years.

-When you boarded the train, you were looking for anywhere there was available seating, and you knocked on the glass of the first one you saw, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.” One of the two identical ginger boys exclaimed, his face was slightly rounder than the other boys, and his smile was large as you sat down across from him, “Are you a first year too?” the other asked.

“Yeah, I’m [Y/N], and you are?”

“I’m Fred, He’s George.” The rounder faced one replied

“I’m George, he’s Fred.” The other replied right after

-You spent the whole train ride joking with the twins, and found that you all had a similar sense of humor. However soon the conversation shifted, “So which house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” George asked

“Probably Hufflepuff, honestly I have a sweet tooth, and the closer to the kitchen the better.” You joked as the boys chuckled.

“Well as Weasley’s there is only one house we’lol get sorted into.” Fred replied cocky, “Our whole family has been Gryffindors.”

“Ah so you are lions.” You joked as Fred and George let out fake roars, just as the train stopped at a platform. With smiles you three rose and made your way towards the exit, and once on the platform you heard a familiar voice, “All first years come with me, everyone else make your way to the carriages.”

-“Hagrid!” You exclaimed, separating from the boys as you ran towards the half giant, who extended his arms open and caught you.

“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, “mighty fine seeing you here, how was the ride?”

“Splendid, just like I imagined, tell me, did the elves make Yorkshire pudding tonight?”

“Course they did, it wouldn’t be the first day feast without it.” He smiled, “However your friends seem to be looking a wee bit confused.”

-When you turned around Fred and George were just looking at you, and with a smile you joked, “What, have my lions never seen a half giant before?”

“No, we are just wondering how you know each other?” Fred questioned

“Now that boys is a secret I shall never tell.” You smiled, before taking both their hands, “Now come on, we don’t want to miss the boats.”

-It was in the boat that you met Lee Jordan, and soon realized he would be joining your friend group.

-Once outside the great hall you turned towards the boys, “Now we make a promise here, no matter what house we get, we will still all be friends, no matter what.”

“Unless one of us gets Slytherin, no one in Slytherin ever turns out being a good guy.” George replied

“Even if one of us gets Slytherin.” You replied, to which the three sighed, but ultimately agreed.

-When McGonagall started calling names you smiled at the members of staff, and watched as each of your friends got sorted into Gryffindor. Finally you heard McGonagall’s voice say your name, “[Y/N] Black.”

-A hush feel over the great hall as you approached the hat, McGonagall smiled at you as you slowly took your place upon the stool, and felt the fabric of the talking hat touch your hair, before it’s voice filled your head, “Ahhhhhhh another member of the Black Family, this should be easy to sort out, I mean you’re a descendant from a long line of Slytherins. I think your father was the only oddball of the family, what you might call a black sheep.”

“Please, don’t put me in Slytherin.” You thought, your eyes closed as you thought it louder

“Oh why not, someone with your talent could excel in Slytherin, besides who doesn’t love a cunning woman with a bit of poisoned blood in her veins. I mean your father was a traitor, whose to say you won’t be the same.”

“My father was not a traitor, he was a loyal friend, and a fighter. He would never turn his back on his family, because you might say I am a descendent of Slytherin but everyone in my family were...” 

“Gryffindor!” The hat screamed, as the table cheered loudly, your eyes opening as your face cracked a smile. Your feet excitingly carried you to the place beside George, as you looked toward Dumbledore, who wore a proud smile on his face as well.

-Your first week of classes was a breeze, Fred and George were baffled by the fact that you knew all of them, and were glad that you were their friend, since you were clearly the brightest witch of your year.

-You went to Dumbledore’s office once while you were free and looked at the hat sitting atop the shelf, “Are you sure you put me in the proper house?” You asked

“Of course I am, you showed true bravery standing up for your father, and loyalty. Both are vital traits of a true gryffindor.”

-You and the twins were inseparable, and within the first two weeks of school were already plotting on who to prank, and how.

-You sent a letter to Remus everyday as promised, and everyday he would send you a reply. However a month into school, you one day received two letters. The first was from Remus, but the second bore no return address.

-You waited until you were in your dorm room to open it, safely seated on your bed, you closed the curtains and tore the envelope open, withdrawing the parchment, you read the scribbles on the page,

Dear [Y/N] Euphemia Black,

Hello, it is odd to think that these are the first words you will ever be reading from me, even though I have written you a hundred times before. However knowing how stubborn your Uncle Mooney is, I doubt he has even told you that I have been writing you since they locked me away.

Where to begin, words can’t even describe how I have been feeling since they ripped me away from you, nor can anything make up for the lost years of communication we have had. Not a single day goes by where I don’t envision your beautiful [Y/E/C] eyes, or how your face looked, or remember how you used to dart around the house like a child overdosing on sugar. Truly your impact on my life has been the only thing keeping me sane in this insane asylum prison all these years. I am sorry I can’t have a similar impact on your life.

You are 11 now, meaning g you have just started the best adventure of your life, it was at Hogwarts that I met your Uncle Prongs, and Mooney, and unfortunately met Uncle Wormtail as well. I wish some days I never met that traitor, or that I wasn’t so self absorbed in my own beliefs. I was wrong to doubt your Uncle Mooney, when the real traitor was right under my nose the whole time, and I gave him the loaded gun to destroy our entire friend group, and your childhood. No child should ever have to endure what you and Harry did. How I wish I knew where he was, since I doubt that they would give Mooney both of you, and I have no idea where Auntie Lily’s family is. I just know where you are, and that you were safe in Uncle Mooney’s cabin all these years.

I would love to hear from you, written on the back is how to reach me. I have so many years to catch up on, and so little time to do so.

I love you my darling, never forget that.

Dad

-By the time you reached the end of the letter you were crying, and every time you reread his words more tears started to flow down your face. Soon your vision was blurred and the words manifested into blobs on the page, but by that point you had already memorized most of it.

-You stayed in bed the rest of the day, and once night had fallen over the castle you made your way to the common room where a very concerned set of ginger twins sat on the stair to the first year girls dormitories with Lee., who was leaning opposite them in the doorway.

When he saw you Lee looked at you with concern, causing the boys to turn and look as well. Wasting no time they jumped up and wrapped you in a tight embrace. When they pulled away Lee wrapped you in a embrace, and then they led you to one of the secluded couches. They kept asking you what was wrong and finally you broke, and told them that you just found out your pet hamster had passed away. Not wanting them to know your family secret.

-The next day you responded to your father’s letter, and started what would soon become a weekly interaction with your estranged father.

-You never told Remus or any of the professors you were in contact with your father.

-your father was so happy when he received your first letter, and cried as he read the seven pages of parchment that you sent him.

-You helped the tricksters with their assignments, and the pranks.

-McGonagall couldn’t help chuckling to Dumbledore one day, and stated, “Isn’t it funny how she has found herself her own group of tricksters?”

“It is, especially since she has become just like Remus.” Dumbledore compared to her as she groaned, “Does that make the Weasleys James and Sirius?”

“I fear it does.” Dumbledore replied

-You were at the top of the class when Christmas break came.

-Before leaving you and the boys decided to do secret Santa when you all returned from christmas break. Each of you wrote your names on a piece of parchment and put it in a hat, drawing one by one. You were the last to draw, and you had gotten Fred.

-When she went home that Christmas Remus was waiting for her anxiously on the platform, however before you were reunited with your uncle, Fred and George followed their brothers towards their family, each of your hands in one of theirs as they led you towards the other Weasleys to introduce you.

-When they heard your last name they immediately knew who your father was, and why he was in Azkaban, but later that night after Arthur expressed his concerns Molly defended you, “We can’t judge her because of her father, and besides, did you see how smitten the boys were to introduce us to their best friend.

-When you saw Remus, you broke away from the twins and ran towards him, your arms snaking around his neck as he picked you up.

-You immediately introduced him to the twins. He looked at both of them and smiled, “So you are the boys my niece has told me so much about?”

-When you got home, you immediately started tell Remus about all the non secretive stuff you left out of your letters. Once you got inside though you looked at him, “Uncle Mooney, have you ever heard of the Marauders Map?”

“Why?”

“Fred and George knicked it from Flich during one of their detentions, and on the front of the parchment it states master Mooney, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prong. I only know four men whom go by those names.”

-He told you everything about the map, and you immediately wrote to the twins to tell them how to open the map. When you were done, and sent the letter off to them, you turned slightly and looked at Remus, “Uncle Mooney?”

“Yes Love?”

“Why have you been hiding my father’s letters from me?”

-He was silent, his face paling, as his hand slightly started to shake. He felt hot suddenly and lost the ability to talk, as you continued, “I want to see them please Uncle Mooney.”

-All he whispered was, “How?”

“He told me, please Remus.” His real name sounded so foreign slipping off your tongue, “I deserve to know.”

-He got the box, and sat at the dining room table, as you slid into the chair across from him. Your fingers casually slid along the lock as you opened the lid and revealed 9 years worth of unread letters. Remus’s eyes focused on the table, never lifting as you read each letter in silence, and finally you reached the first letter, where he had pleaded to his friend his innocence.

“You had all of these for years.” You whispered, “And yet you still doubt him?”

“[Y/N]...” his voice was barely audible, but the heartbreak in his tone and body language was loud, your watering eyes meeting as he took a shaky breath, “I love you.”

“Yet you knew my father was reaching out, that he is rotting away in a cell alone, and you..” your voice cracked, “you let him rot in there alone.”

-You left the table immediately, and went into your room, where you stayed for two days, until you came out to Remus asleep on the couch, the house a mess. You immediately started cleaning as you walked around, along with covered Remus with a blanket. When he awoke, you were seated on the floor facing him, his eyes bloodshot as you whispered, “I love you too.”

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[ohnobjyx]

I've seen so many sol0 fans or just people that have watched cql and cares for the cast, talking about how they feel that bjyx is something one sided and unrequited. some comments about how xz (in the later fan meetings) is kinda just patiently indulging yb but clearly was not v happy about it. Sometimes I do think xz is more reserved and seems to try to "tame" yb to be more discreet about their, whatever it is, thing but i don't particularly think he is cold? What do you think?

I know it may sound odd but is there some analysis about Xiao feelings towards Yibo? I mean this guy is head over heels for him, no doubt about that but I don’t really feel the same from Xiao? I mean I could be wrong since I’m new there and didn’t read a lot of analysis so if you have some can you link them please? Thank you! And I don’t ask this in a « wrong » way like I genuinely feel like there’s something but I don’t see the same feelings towards each other. Again, I could be wrong! 

Hi, anons. These asks has been sitting for the longest time in my inbox, so I decided to tackle them today (still writing two days later, I’ve desisted on creating a more organized post and I’m just dumping my thoughts here this time).

(It’s also that I’m frustrated about this, because these are two of the most polite ones, but I’ve also received others less well worded ones, that basically imply that there’s nothing from gg).

For the anon asking for some analysis, I’ll leave a link here to a post that basically sums up my own thoughts.

Disclaimer: as always, don’t take bjyx seriously. Pure speculation here.

Long post.

Before I start, I want to say that I shouldn’t be the one to convince you to anything. It’s never my intention to impart the “universal truth” or to be patronising. If any of you really feels that there’s nothing from gg, no matter what I say, you won’t be convinced by my post alone. And it’s alright to agree to disagree. Just keep it in mind.

I feel that what anons describe it’s something that often happens to new bxg. Dd’s so obvious, so painfully obvious that in comparison, gg is much more “discreet” (well, we had to learn to read Lan Wangji’s expressions, didn’t we? The same happens with gg’s gestures). I don’t agree with the idea of dismissing someone’s love just because they aren’t as obvious and as telling as their partner at first glance (gg’s songs and drawings aren’t as straightforward, but they are there for those who care to listen and see).

From my pov, I think it’s very very probable that they are together. So, that works both ways for me. I don’t think dd’s love unrequited. They take care of each other in ways that speak of a high level of trust, intimacy and chemistry (yes, I initially wrote that post for these asks). I’ve talked about subtle ways to display your love, because when you love someone it’s difficult to hide it, and gg has a hard time trying to hide for the cameras.

(I’m still thinking of Happy Camp, when dd hurt his neck with the necklace... gg’s reaction wasn’t controlled in the slightest, and the combination of worry and anger would be a interesting combo if gg indeed wasn’t anything to dd or if he hadn’t gifted him the necklace).

Gg often has a hard time controlling his reactions when dd is involved. He’s much more natural, a lot closer to how he really is instead of his very polite and soft public persona. He get a glimpse of him in the bts (I suppose they never expected CQL to be so popular, and didn’t thought that the bts would be so watched a year afterwards), and comparing how he is in the bts with dd to how he usually is in other interviews and events with other people is a very interesting exercise.

It’s true that gg in the interviews seemed to try to hold back dd, to the point that they both lied sometimes in the interviews... the effect they caused was contrary to what they wanted. Definitely. Because they tended to forget what they had lied about, and the “plot” had holes everywhere. Like gg reacting surprised to the possibility of dd starting a fashion brand. Twice. In the same day. Or the eggplant/carrots thing. Or the “I didn’t know you slept with the lights on, but I’m aware of your sleeping pattern” thing. Please note that these three plot holes were caused by gg (in the second case, I’m refering to carrots ofc).

About what the first anon says of “how xz (in the later fan meetings) is kinda just patiently indulging yb but clearly was not v happy about it”. It’s one thing that by then they’d have noticed that their cp had attracted a whole lot more attention that they had ever expected it to and a whole another thing to “indulge” someone (as if only dd wanted it and gg had nothing to say about it) and “not be very happy about it”. Gg might have tried, but even he couldn’t completely erase all of the little moments directed at dd (and you have to take into account that gg was actually sick in the last fan meeting in Nanjing, that’s bound to affect his mood too).

(There’s no one else when they look at each other. No wonder Wen Ning achieved such a third wheel look when they were filming the boat scene, I suppose it’s taken from real life).

How gg looks at dd and only smirks when dd looks up... well, gg still makes his best effort at being discreet...

And dd in this moment... well, what can one do when a man like gg looks at you like that? (dd.exe has stopped working. Please restart).

Source of the gifs: 仙娱

Last but not least, I’d like to talk a little about W/ibo Night, the main source of many people’s doubts. I’ve seen many analysis, from “poor puppy dd following gg around” (that’s... bs) to some better analysis that deserve to be taken into account.

W/ibo Night is an event organized by a state controlled social media platform. It’s one of the most observed events of the years, with potential future employers and coworkers, apart from the government, so it’s not just them, but everyone is very serious and controlled in their actions.

They obviously had agreed beforehand on how to behave in this one. While dd is very serious, he doesn’t seem angry or sad that gg isn’t looking his way. However, they both can’t help but look in each other’s direction (gg’s more discreet, but pay attention and you’ll see him side glancing at dd at least three times on stage) and the way dd turns just so he can have a look at gg is... 🤦

They tried so hard that it ended up getting the effect they wanted to avoid: when everybody else was greeting each other (friendly hadshakes, patting their backs, etc.) these two just stood there, a little awkwardly. It became obvious to most people that they were acting as if they were strangers.

I think (speculation here) that while they had agreed to act as if they didn’t know each other, gg was... off that night. His eyes were very bright (as if teary, so not in a good way) and his smiles were tense, so I’d say in a bad mood or maybe he was feeling under the weather. I think dd was worried, so that’s why he kept glancing at him (I’ve read about the rumours of why gg was like that, but I tend to dismiss them if there’s no proof).

For someone as polite as gg, to walk so obviously in front of dd when they were getting on stage (c-culture here: the one who walks in front has more seniority/authority, so gg always lets the other people walk in front of him as a sign of politeness and respect), speaks of a familiarity that exceeds that of coworkers. Dd’s actions need no more words: waiting for gg and letting him walk in front comes naturally to him.

Choosing fans (though at first, dd just looks at gg choose his). I don’t know if you remember, but gg chose “I can do it” and dd chose “I have it difficult” (as a way of saying “I can’t”). I think it was entirely a coincidence, because dd was looking at his gg choosing his fan, the one he had wanted at first was taken by another person, so he chose this one as “I couldn’t take the fan I wanted” and “it’s difficult for me to choose”.

However, look at the happy and surprised smile from gg when he notices that his fan and dd’s make a pair (similar to “yes” and “no”, gg had filmed an ad for the event in which he linked this two exact phrases as opposites). A sad spoiler: this is the only time he truly, spontaneously smiles at the event (and notice how dd’s face inmediately mirrors gg’s and how he tries to rein it in a second later). 

I couldn’t find a video, but just before leaving the stage, dd looks at gg again and shakes his fan. Without a single word, gg understands that dd is asking from where to leave the stage, and makes the slightest movement with his fan to point the way. I assure you, this level of 默契 (mo qi) is difficult to find even in established long time relationships.

Once they are seated, gg leaves for a second and tells dd “I’m leaving” and dd answers “okay”. There’d be no need for this interaction unless they’re still friends/couple.

This one broke my heart a little: dd had been sitting on a plastic bottle the whole time. Usually gg clears his seat when dd comes (Nanjing fan meeting, Tencent awards night), probably because he has noticed that dd doesn’t care that he’s sitting on things. Dd left earlier the event because of his schedule, and once gg came back from getting his w/ibo king award, he sits on dd’s seat. And notices the water bottle under him. Even his poker face can’t hide the sad fondness “aiyo this boy...”

Some say he sat in the seat next to dd’s, but there’s a video I can’t seem to find (the despair is real) of gg sitting on the water bottle, so it’s indeed dd’s seat.

Also, you may try to think this from your own perspective: when and why would you sit in another person’s seat in an event as important as this one? If I try to answer this from my pov, I’d say that first I’d need to know that that person wouldn’t mind me sitting there and/or knowing that this person isn’t going to come back to the event. In both cases, it requires communication and trust between these two people. Gg had to know that dd was leaving first (and why would dd tell gg if not because they chat about their work schedules?) and that dd wouldn’t mind once the fancams made it to social media. This is what I think, at least.

Okay, so here ends my post. I just exposed some of my thoughts on why I think yizhan is NOT one sided or unrequited. But of course, you’re allowed to disagree with me, anons, since we are all in the speculation ground here. Nonetheless, note that this is a yizhan/bjyx blog, which implies (at least for me) that there are feelings from both sides, so I may not interact further with one-sided yizhan/bjyx asks.

(BTW, I found a very complete post of moments where yizhan isn’t one sided here, so I decided not to elaborate on those moments in this post).

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Award shows - ɟ

Heeeelloo, my fellow CS 👋🏼

The idea for this post came to me because I recently saw again that some fans still can’t explain some things about the awards, therefore, I’m going to briefly explain the things I’ve read on which they’re still confused about so that maybe I’ll automatically answer some questions you guys have too.

First of all, celebrities, whether they’re actors, singers, models, heirs, fashion mavens, aristocrats, etc., are notified months before they’ve been invited. Usually, the reason why they were invited is written along with the invitation. The reasons obviously vary. They may have been invited because they were nominated for an award, or because, and they may accept or decline, they were asked to present a category or a performance, or to interview someone on the red-carpet or backstage, or to perform, etc., etc. They can also be added as I like to say ‘+1’. But be aware, there’s a difference between being invited as a ‘+1’ and as a guest.

‘Are they not the same thing?’ you’re probably wondering. No, they are not. Being invited as a guest is simply that. A celebrity who invites their partner, or their kid, or one of their parents, or a friend, as indeed their guest. The +1, on the other hand, is a term that I’m using because I don’t think there’s one to describe when a person who is also a celebrity is invited by another one. You know the seats they show us with pictures of celebrities and how some seats next to it lack these pictures? Those seats without pictures belong to the celebrity guests or their team members. If a celebrity invites another one, then next to their picture there will also be that of the celebrity they invited. Aka, the term I’m using in this case: the +1.

I’ll give you an example:

I’m a singer and my fake PR boyfriend has to perform that night, but I don’t, and neither have I been nominated for any awards and therefore not even invited. Also to keep up appearances of our relationship, I get invited as his +1. This means that you’re gonna see my picture next to his in the seats and the cameras will film me for literally two seconds counted during his performance. It also means that my fake boyfriend and I will be wearing matching outfits, that we’ll arrive on the red carpet together, that I’ll have to show unnecessary PDA out of the blue while one of our managers films us to make us more believable and real, and that I’ll have to pretend to be happy to be his arm candy. Do I accept or do I not accept the invitation?

Yeah, of course I do. It’s a great idea actually, both to show people my support as a cheerleader for him, and as publicity. Publicity not only for us as a couple, but also for myself. Our management, and yes, we have the same management, has arranged interviews for me too on the red carpet, so why shouldn’t I accept that? Plus, I want to go. Helloo? We’re talking about an important award show. Not to mention that my girlfriend performs too the same night and has also been nominated for several awards, so it’s just an extra incentive to want to go and be able to support her. Oohh, how foolish of me. I apologize for my forgetfulness. My name is Lauren Jauregui and I’m talking about the American Music Awards 2018.

See what I did there? 😏😏😏

These events are very exclusive and have an invitation list. If you’re a celebrity and you’re not on the list, then it’s very hard for you to be able to attend. But there’s a way, and no, I’m not talking about finding a way to sneak in. The only other way to get there is by taking the place of someone who had been invited and couldn’t attend.

Let’s say you’re a celebrity and you want to go there. Let’s say you want to go because you’ve been out of the spotlight for a long time and want to make a big comeback with a beautiful dress to show yourself off. The first thing you do is call your publicist and see if there are still seats available. Not all celebrities can attend those events despite being invited because they may have other commitments, or they’re out of town, or I don’t know, they’re on tour or something like that. So there’s the possibility that you can have their seat. If there aren’t any, then your publicist themselves may be looking for another way to get you in. Again, for an X reason, the celebrity who was supposed to present an award cannot go, and therefore your publicist manages to get you the invitation as one of the presenters. If none of these options are possible, then.. well, I hope you enjoy the show watched in the living room of your home.

You want another practical example? Okay, okay, babies, I’ll content you 😏

Latin Grammy Awards 2019. Still me, Lauren Jauregui, hi 🙋🏻 🙈 I wasn’t invited. I had no reason to actually be there, except for one…

I didn’t even publicize and say on my social media that I’d have been there. It was so unexpected and awesome for you nuggets, wasn’t it? Well, my girlfriend was invited but she unfortunately couldn’t go due to other commitments. You can imagine how sad she was not only to not being able to attend, but also to not being able to perform with Alejandro who is one of the people in the industry that she loves and admires the most, right? You can imagine her pout and her kicked puppy face for not being able to sing the song she wrote and dedicated to her little sister, can’t you? Well, I couldn’t bear to see her that way, so I told her: ‘Don’t worry, babe. I gotcha. I’ll go for you. I’ll go to represent you’. Also because her team didn’t need to be there, not even to collect the award which I later discovered she won the same evening. Awards, my beautiful chickens, are shipped months after the night they are received.

And so it was. I went with Brenda (my manager). I got dolled up. I did my interviews, even teasing my fans about my new project with Tainy. I sat in my baby’s seat in the front row. THE FRONT ROW. Front rows are reserved for the evening’s award winners. They NEVER put the winners in the back rows because it would take them too long to get to the stage when their name is called otherwise. And I was there, for her. And in addition to enjoying the show, I tried to hold back my happiness, especially since there were cameras everywhere, both during Alejandro’s performance as soon as my love appeared on the screens, and when they won the Record of the Year. I swear I had to get a hold of myself. I had to restrain myself and concentrate on clapping my hands like a normal person and not smiling too big.

*end of the sketch*

As you may have noticed so far, these are the only ways to attend award shows if you are a celebrity. But, just because you’re a celebrity, there’s no guarantee that you get invited. And you certainly cannot show up there with the hope that they’ll let you in without being invited, or nominated, or without a ticket just because you’re ‘someone’. Security kicks your ass out no matter who you are.

Every year, hundreds of celebrities don’t make it onto the invitation list. Keep in mind that the ‘exclusivity’ of these events is also due to the seats. Take as an example precisely the Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles where the AMAs 2018 took place. It has 7,100 seats. These seats are reserved for people in the show’s broadcast network, the telecast’s sponsors, the production team, the accountants, the legal team, the donors, the representatives, the press and media in general, etc., and THEN for the invited celebrities including singers and their teams, so also their publicists, agents, managers, [and not even all of them have a reserved seat; maybe only one of them has it and the rest are backstage or in the dressing room or not really there], etc., actors, and as with singers, their teams, the team of people who worked on the film with them, etc. See how many people and how few seats?

I’m still not 100% sure about this but, Emmy’s, Oscars, Golden Globes, Tony’s, and Grammy’s are the only award shows where the names of the winners aren’t revealed until the envelope is opened live on stage. All the remaining shows? Pfft, it’s all an organized thing. What you see on TV, the reactions ‘Oh my God, did I win? I can’t believe it!’, ‘I really wasn’t expecting that’, they’re all fake. Yes, the emotion for the win is true, but everything else? It’s all bullshit. Winners are notified long, but very long time before that. Indeed, many award shows only invite winners to attend. Haven’t you ever noticed how in some of them the other artists nominated in that same category aren’t even there? If they happened to be there, it’s because it’s very likely that they had won another category, or were there for other reasons, like presenting a performance or whatever.

Aaaand I’m done 😎😝 I think I’ve answered pretty much all the questions I’ve seen on the subject, even though I haven’t seen them here. If you yourselves have questions about this or anything else (even if you want advice on a personal level), as I’ve already said other times, feel free to ask. I’m at your disposal 😊

And thank you, Mari. It has been a while since I’ve done this, but I hope you know that I’m serious every time I thank you. Therefore, thank you once again for virtually letting me into your world and thank you for letting me continue to have little spaces in your blog 🤗🤗🤗

Thanks also to you babies for reading, liking, and re-blogging my occasional posts. But thanks mostly for her. Thanks to those who follow my friend’s blog with the right intentions. That is, with respect and without attacking her. Thanks to those who follow her because you actually like her and the content she posts, and thanks to those who use their brains before asking or submitting something to her. Thanks for real 🙏🏼

I hope you’re all well and that your holidays are continuing with peace and serenity. Stay safe, please. Stay patient. Keep the boat afloat. As usual, always with love, F ❤️

P.S. since I’m currently on vacation for a few more days before having to go back to work, and since I have a little bit more free time, I’m preparing something else for you based on some information that I was able to found out. Stay tuned for the next post 😉 The initials of the title are U and S, so you’ll know when you see it. Byee 😘

___

I was smiling with every word of this submit. Thanks for this clarification, F. It was awesome as usual

[reidgraygubler]

and they said speak now... (spencer reid/reader)

Title: and they said speak now... Request: no Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: fluff w/ some angst Content Warning: swearing (if any), leaving someone at the alter, Word Count: 3,803 Summary: Spencer Reid is getting married and Reader is in love with him. Reader shows up at his wedding, uninvited, to try and win him back before it’s too late. A/N: this is based on speak now by taylor swift. thanks for the love and support! check out my masterlist  

{***}{***}{***}

My body refused to work when my eyes opened. I just laid still in bed, watching as the ceiling fan spun. There was no work today, so there really should be no reason for me to be awake right now. Why was there no work? Because my best friend, Doctor Spencer Reid, was getting married. And I was uninvited by his not so lovely bride-to-be. 

Everyone would be wondering where I was and why I wasn’t there. I suppose it’s not exactly my place to say why I wasn’t invited or why I wasn’t there. I should be there. She didn’t invite me because she doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m a threat. It’s probably a good thing I’m not there. Mostly because I’m in love with Spencer Reid and I’m too late. She was right not to let me be there. I’m no more a threat than JJ is. JJ loves Spencer, but I suppose it’s different for her. She’s already married, and I’m single. 

I remember the day Spencer told me he was engaged and getting married. My heart broke into a million pieces, but he didn’t know that. Spencer couldn’t know my true feelings for him. It’d ruin everything we had together, and I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer. But, I suppose I am losing my friendship with him because of his wife-to-be.

My stomach churned as I rolled to look at the clock. The ceremony would be starting in two hours. And in two hours, Spencer Reid would be a husband to someone who isn’t me. 

“Screw this,” I muttered as I pushed myself out of bed. I made way towards the closet and pulled out a dark blue, knee-length tea dress. I made sure to be quick with a shower and getting ready to leave. If I took my time and doddled, I would be late and I'd lost my chance to show up. 

I grabbed the last few things I needed before leaving my apartment. The church that the ceremony was being held at was across town. From what I’m told, by JJ, the bride wanted the wedding to be in Baltimore. But, Spencer wouldn’t have that. He wanted the wedding to be right here in DC. I was happy about that. 

I parked my car down the street from the church. It was a cute building. A place where I’m sure a lot of brides would love to have their wedding. I rolled my eyes at the sickening thought of his wife-to-be, begging him for their wedding to be at a place like this.  

When I stepped into the church, I smiled when I saw our friends and co-workers waiting in the foyer. They looked happy to see me too. JJ, of all the people, seemed the happiest. She peeled away from the group to embrace me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her baby blue eyes staring into my soul. She knew exactly why I wasn’t invited. She even knew how I felt about Spencer and the bride. JJ shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here. I’ve spent many nights with her, or with Emily, or with Penelope. Many of those nights were spent with my drunk and blubbering about this whole thing. The day after I found I wasn’t invited to my best friend’s wedding, I told JJ that I was going to show up anyways and break them up… She said I shouldn’t. Well, look at where I am now.

I stared back at her, staying silent. The bride’s family was scattered around the room. They were all wearing different shades of pastels and snotty expressions on their faces. In fact, everyone here was wearing pastels… Except for me. I stood out in my dark dress. 

“He can’t marry her,” I kept my voice low as I scanned the room. My eyes landed on Diana. She was standing by the doors to the sanctuary. The expression on her face told me that she did not want to be here, that she was confused, and that she did not like what was going on with Spencer. My heart broke for her. “You know that. He’s too good for her,” I whispered as I looked back at JJ. JJ looked back at me and nodded. 

“Are you-”

“Yes,” I cut her off before she could say another word. She nodded and looked around the room. Shouting could be heard from a back room. I could only assume the bride was shouting at one of her bridesmaids. I wrinkled my nose and looked at JJ. “Don’t stop me if I tackle that woman to the ground when I see her,” I whispered. 

“I will, most definitely, stop you. We don’t need you in jail.” She whispered before pulling me into a hug. I nodded and pressed my face into her shoulder. I was happy that our other friends didn’t come over and talk to me. 

“Save me a seat,” I winked at her. She smiled and chuckled lightly, but nodded.

“Good luck,” she smiled before allowing me to sneak away.

I walked past the group of our friends. They noticed me and my expression, taking it as a sign to not talk to me. I was on a mission and couldn’t be stopped. That was until I heard my name being called from a familiar person. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Diana spoke as she wrapped her arms around my body. I froze stiff. What am I supposed to do right now?! I can’t just tell Diana off and leave her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not,”

“Yeah, I almost wasn’t going to come,” I spoke as I stepped back a step. Diana looked at me with a relaxed expression on her face. “Listen, Diana, I’d love to chat, but I have to get to my seat,” I lied with a smile. I felt bad for lying to Spencer’s mother. But, I didn’t want to be caught by anyone from the bride’s family. I’d be kicked out in an instant. I couldn’t leave, I still have to speak my mind.

“Spencer can’t marry this girl,” she whispered as she hugged me again. I felt tears well up in my eyes as she spoke. “I love him, but this girl is not for him,” she continued. I nodded and backed away from her.

“I know,” I whispered before walking away from her. Again, I felt bad for lying to her and just walking away. I knew if I stayed with her, she’d cling to me. And, I couldn’t just be by her side. Spencer still had to walk her to her seat before the official start of the ceremony. He can’t know that I am here.

The sanctuary was… beautiful… Sure, that’s a word that could be used. Flowers decorated each of the pews with ribbon and bows. A pastel pink carpet lined the center aisle, with pink rose petals on top of it. The windows were covered with curtains that were drawn back, except for the back two. I looked around for a place to hide before giving up and just tucking myself behind the curtain. 

This is not how I thought my day would be. And, I’m sure Spencer is expecting a totally different outcome for his wedding day. This is not what he thought it would be.

 I pressed my back to the wall behind me and closed my eyes. A memory came to my mind and caused tears to roll down my cheeks. The day I realized I was in love with him. It seemed like everyone but Spencer and I knew that. But, that was probably for the best. I knew from that day on I would forever be screwed. I was right though. I’ve never been more screwed in my entire life until now.

I thought about what I was going to say when it came time to disagree with this holy matrimony, though I would disagree and say unholy matrimony. Like, would I say “Spencer, I love you. Please don’t marry her.” Or, alternatively, would I say “She’s the wrong person to marry. You should be marrying me.” Or, “Don’t say yes to her. Runaway with me. Don’t spend the rest of your life regretting this.” 

The sound of the organ started to play the wedding march, it sounded like the death march to me, pulled me out of my thoughts, and to the realization of current events. I poked my head out from the curtain. The sanctuary was filled, except for the back pew. I quickly stepped to sit there. JJ and everyone was sitting more towards the center of the room. I had to be quick as I moved towards them. I closed my eyes as I sat beside her. She looked over at me before grasping my hand.

I looked towards the front of the room and saw the bridal party and Spencer. My heart raced as I looked at him. 

He wore a baby blue suit with a baby pink bowtie. He hated it. I could tell by the expression on his face that he hated it. Hell, I hated it too. It made him look flushed. Or, maybe that was the fact that he was about to marry a self-center bitch.

He isn’t the type to marry someone like this girl. He should be marrying me. Would that also make me a self-centered bitch too then? 

Suddenly everyone around me stood up, causing me to shyly stand to my feet. The bride and her father entered the room and started down the center aisle. I kept my eyes on Spencer. He looked at her like he loved her, but something was off. I wish it was me walking down in an elegant wedding dress instead of this woman. And something told me he wished it was me too. That has to mean something, right? I’m not just projecting my feelings on to him, am I?

She walked past me, her gown shaped like an oversized cream puff. The way she walked was similar to a pageant queen who won the pageant. I'm sure that's how she thought too. She probably thought that since I wasn't invited, I shouldn't be here. Therefore, I couldn't ruin her perfect day. Boy, was she wrong. I’m about to ruin everyone’s day. Or, make it better. That entirely depends on what happens. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts of her winning and turned my eyes back to Spencer. 

Everyone sat back down and the ceremony started. The priest went right at the start of it all and I stopped listening till I needed too. I didn’t want to hear about how the priest was so blessed to be marrying Spencer and his bride, and how he was so fond of their shared love. I wanted so desperately to scoff and roll my eyes. But I knew it was an entirely inappropriate time to do that.

“For those who disagree upon this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest spoke. I shot my head back up to look at them. 

The silence in the air was tense and I knew this was my last chance. I'm not missing this moment. JJ squeezed my hand as I nervously stood up. My stomach dropped to the ground and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. My hands were shaking and sweaty. All eyes were on me. The horrified expressions on everyone’s faces, except for my friends, made me feel even sicker. But I just kept my eyes on Spencer, who kept his eyes on me. The bride kept looking between Spencer and I. She wanted to stop me from saying something, but she couldn’t. I disagreed with this marriage. I get my chance to speak.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whispered as I slowly sat back down. I noticed how Spencer was staring at me like he was surprised that I’d be here. My face twisted up as I stood back up. “You know what, no…  I’m not sorry… I’m not at all sorry.” I bit my lips together and nodded. “Now,” I stepped out of the pew row and stood in the center aisle, “I’m… I’m not the type of girl who just shows up, rudely barging in, uninvited to a white veil, white dress event… But, Spencer, you’re not the kind of boy to marry the wrong girl,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly. Everyone was still staring at me, but I was still staring at Spencer. The tension in the air was tight, and I felt like I needed to throw up. “I love you, Spencer,” I wiped my eyes as tears started to roll down my cheeks. “So, don’t say yes… Don’t marry her. Please… Runaway with me, Spencer… I’ll meet you outside… Just, please don’t wait, don’t say a single vow… Runaway with me, please. I… I love you,” I spoke out loud, just for Spencer. I wasn’t exactly pleased that I had to pour my heart and soul out to Spencer in front of my best friends and her family. 

The priest looked shocked as he turned to Spencer. Spencer was still staring at me, confusion and shock on his face. The bride was definitely in shock and anger that I’m ruining her wedding day. I won. I don't care if Spencer says anything after… I ruined her wedding day… therefore I won. Though that was a lie, I did care if Spencer said anything. Because, even if he didn’t feel the same, my day would be further ruined. So, in the end, she would win.

“Do you… Do you have anything to say,” the priest finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. 

I placed my hand over my stomach,  trying to hold back the feeling of being sick. Spencer just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing. I wiped my eyes and nodded, understanding I messed up and should just leave. Just as I turned to leave he spoke. “Let’s… Let’s run away… Right now,” Spencer spoke out, catching my attention and turning me back to look at him. I widened my eyes and opened my mouth, but no words fell out. Spencer pulled his hands from the bride’s and kept his eyes on me. 

“Spencer,” the bride started to whine. That was the first time Spencer looked away from me, only to glare at the bride. I held back the inappropriate laughter. 

“I love you too,” he spoke as he turned to face me, “I’ll meet you outside, let me… I’ll meet you outside in a minute,” he spoke as he stepped off the platform and towards me. He walked closer to me, keeping his eyes on me. “You’re right, I’m not the type of boy to be marrying the wrong girl,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. Spencer stood right in front of me and held my hands. I nodded and smiled. 

“You better be outside,” I muttered before pecking his cheek and running out of the church and towards the side. I needed to hide from the onslaught of the bride’s family that was bound to come my way. I hid in the bushes, away from everyone. I could hear the shouting and yelling coming from the inside of the church as the doors swung open. I looked over the bushes and saw Spencer sprinting down the stairs. He was no longer wearing his light blue suit jacket and a light pink bowtie. He was just wearing his white button-up, suspenders, and light blue slacks. I smiled as I stepped out of the bushes. 

I ran into his arms and he embraced me before kissing my lips. I melted under his touch. The way he held me close to his body made me feel warm and safe. He held my cheeks in his hands and kept my head still so I couldn’t move away from him. But even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. I was content staying here. We stayed still, kissing each other right in front of the church he was going to get married at, where he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

I kept my eyes closed because I was scared that if I opened them this dream would be gone and Spencer would be married, and not to me. I’d wake up and still be in bed where I was before I came over here. But, when we finally separated from each other and I opened my eyes, I was looking at Spencer. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, happy that he was standing in front of me. 

“I didn’t say my vows… I didn’t say anything to her…” he whispered once we were in each other’s arms. I smiled and nodded. “I’m so happy you were there when the priest said speak now,” he smiled, keeping his hands on my face. 

“My car… It’s just down the street… We can go, go to my place, your place, anywhere. Anywhere but here,” I whispered and nodded. Spencer looked over his shoulder towards the church where more shouting came from. I followed his gaze just as the doors were pushed open. I was worried that it’d be the bride, coming to shout at Spencer, but more importantly me. I relaxed when I saw JJ and Emily’s faces.

“You guys should go if you’re going to leave! Derek can only hold her back for so long,” JJ looked down at us. She seemed pleased that Spencer was here with me. No one liked her. But no one wanted to tell Spencer that. He loved her. But, I guess he loved me more.

“Honestly, Aaron and David can only do so much to hold back the bride’s family. Her father wants to rip you a new one, Spence,” Emily laughed. I looked back at Spencer and smiled. 

Just as we were about to tease back, the door was pushed open again and the bride stepped out. She was staring at Spencer and I with anger in her eyes. I looked at her with terror on my face.

Spencer picked me up in one easy movement and threw me over his shoulder. I held back the laughter that I so desperately wanted to let out. But, instead, I looked at the bride with a smile. She looked back at me, the anger exploding on her face. JJ and Emily held her back so she could chance after Spencer and I. I won. I flashed her my best smile as Spencer walked further and further from the church.

The bride just stood behind JJ and Emily, staring at us. Her face was twisted up. They kept their arms up to keep her from chasing after us. I smiled as I watched them try to deescalate the situation but ultimately held her back. There was no saving the day from this situation. 

Spencer walked down the street towards my car. He kept me over his shoulder. I finally laughed once we were at my car. He set me down so I was sitting on the hood of my car. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, resting his hands on the hood of my car on either side of my hips. I smiled as he leaned closer to me.

“My place,” I whispered before pressing a kiss to his lips. He hummed and nodded. “My place, she doesn’t know where I live. She can’t storm in and scream at us. She’ll do that at your place,” I whispered.

“Your place it is,” he smiled at me before kissing my lips again. He helped me off the hood and then into the car. 

“Does this mean we have to get married now?” I looked at him. Spencer laughed as he started the car. “Can we get married now?” I asked, keeping my voice low. Spencer glanced at me and smiled. “Too soon?” I cracked a smile at him. 

“No, not too soon.” Spencer smiled as he started my car and drove away. “I suppose that means we can get married now,” he reached out for my hand. I let him hold it as I stared at him. 

“Wow, not even going to ask me out on a date before you propose to me?” I smiled before pressing my lips to his cheek. He glanced at me for a moment. Pure bliss and happiness was on his face as we drove away from the church. 

“Well, actually, I think you’re the one that proposed to me,” he grinned. I rolled my eyes and nodded. 

“I guess you’re right,” I threw my head back in laughter. Spencer glanced at me again and smiled. “Although, I never technically asked the question… That being, will you marry me?” I turned to face him. He stayed silent, laughing through his nose as he shook his head. I stared at him and cocked an eyebrow. “So, will you?” I asked out loud when I realized he thought I was just joking.

“Oh, you were being serious,” he looked over at me when he stopped at a stoplight. I stared at him and slowly nodded.

“I was being serious, Spencer. I mean, I didn’t just spill my heart and soul out in front of that amount of people I don’t know, nor like, and you’re now ex-fiance for no reason. I’m being more than serious,” I whispered and nodded. He looked down at our hands and raised an eyebrow. “Marry me, Spencer Reid,”  

Never in a million years did I ever expect to be proposing to my best friend on his wedding day. I don’t think he was expecting it either. Honestly, no one should have seen this coming. But, here I am, sitting in my car with Spencer beside me, asking him to marry me, after he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

“That’s going to be one hell of a love story to tell people, you know,” Spencer smiled at me. I looked at him as a smile grew on my lips. I shook my head but kept the smile on my lips. 

“Is that… Is that a yes?” I whispered and kept my eyes on Spencer. He glanced at me and smiled. 

“You don’t just stop the wedding of your best friend and not expect me to say yes,” he laughed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Of course I’ll marry you,” 

“You’re not wrong though, it will be one hell of a love story to tell people,” I half-cackled.

I’m so happy I was there when they said speak now.

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