#bc I just grab it with me and drink it while I'm working rather than sitting down to drink it

[damnprecious]

go kill time at a bookstore they said, it'll be fun they said, you can totally walk out without buying anything they said

[riki-riks-chick]

Senior Year CH.1 ︱N.RK

riki x reader (high school au)

yn is having a hellish year, but one boy makes it all the more bearable.

cw: fluff! bullying, high school, yn plays handball, toxic parents, toxic home life, swearing, slight verbal abuse.

wdct: 1.8k

requested series!

to the person who requested, pls give me feedback on whether this is good or not bc I WILL rewrite b4 continuing to part two. tyy <3

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Third Person POV~

 "I'm actually quite shocked. You're doing exceedingly well.. I got a few emails from coaches who watched our last game.. If you're serious about handball when season starts, you might get a scholarship." Your coach explains, and you're genuinely shocked. Sure you'd been training your ass off, but no one usually acknowledges it.

"Really?.. A scholarship where?" You ask as she smiles, amused at your excitement. "The states... Some school in Virginia."  She explains as your eyes widen. "The states!? My mom would never let me go to the states."

"She's not in control of you once you graduate.. You're good.. Don't let her hold you back.. Now, go home after school and rest up.. We have practice tomorrow after school."

You leave, and rather than going home, you head to your job. Working at some burger shack that everyone at your school came to. It wasn't too bad, but you hated being noticed. 

And just to your dismay, these three cheerleaders, that love to make your life, hell walked in. 

You just happened to be the only employee on the register so you had no choice but to take their orders. 

And as you did so, begrudgingly, one of them spoke up. "Aren't you that loser from third period?.." 

You sigh, avoiding her gaze as you finish finalizing their order. "That'll be $23.45.." You ignore her remark, simply wanting to finish the order. She scoffs though, arms crossing tightly across her chest. "Are you not gonna answer me?... Fucking loser."

She pays for the order before walking over to some random seat to wait around for it, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

They've messed with you before, and you simply ignore it. It's better to take the shit than lose your job that you so desperately need, and worked hard to get.

You call the number for their order after a short while, giving them their drinks last as the tallest one of the girls scoffs. "This is the wrong drink." She then takes it out of the holder, throwing it at you, which results in you getting soaked in diet coke. It was, in fact, the right drink.

"What is wrong with you?" You try not to raise your voice, makeup and hair ruined, clothes soaked and sticking irritatingly against your skin, and she's just standing there with a smirk on her face. "You dumb bitch. Can't even get an order right." Just as you're about to retaliate, knowing that you didn't even make her order, someone grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the counter.

"That's enough.. Do you always go around giving people hell? At school, and now here..?" You glance up at the much taller figure gripping your offenders wrist, and you're slightly shocked at who it is.

It's the one boy that you've never heard speak in class, never seen him interact with other people despite his teammates on the basketball team. And yet he's popular.. Tall, handsome, and quiet. It's hard not to notice him.

When you finally snap back to reality, the three girls are storming out of the place and the boy is still standing in front of you, Nishimura Riki.

You've never imagined making eye contact with him, or speaking to him, but when his deep brown eyes meet yours, you immediately glance away, too flustered to continue looking him in the eyes.

He smiles gently, and there's a hint of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened.. Are you okay?..." His voice is slightly deep, and definitely nicely toned. You simply nod at his question, remembering that you're covered in soda.

"I'm fine.. I can take your order.." You try to deflect but he shakes his head. "No, let me take you home so you can change.. That can't be comfortable for you." 

His voice is very persuasive, and you decide not to argue, telling him to wait before walking into the kitchen to talk to your manager. 

"Mr. Rio...?" You inquire softly as the man glances up from his position at the grill, working on an order. "What happened?" He question, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Some girl threw her drink at me...." Your explanation leaves him to nod understandingly. "Just go home.. I'll handle everything until I can call another person here." 

You question whether he's sure or not before grabbing your stuff and rounding the counter. Riki grabs your stuff for you, carrying your book bag and your waterbottle as he gestures for you to follow him. You follow him towards his car and it's nice, a black mercedes. You're already regretting your decision to let him take you home.

"I can't get in your car like this.." You sigh as he shakes his head. "It's fine.. I'll clean of the seat afterwards.."

You refuse at his words. "No... I don't wanna cause you any trouble..." You argue as he rolls his eyes. "Fine then..." He get in the driver's seat, reaching into the duffle bag in the backseat as he pulls put a towel, putting it on the seat. "Come on. Now I won't even have to worry about cleaning the seat."

You sigh, still hesitant, but you still get into the car. He smiles once you're seated, leaning over the console to reach for your seatbelt, fastening it for you.

"So, where do you live..?" 

The car ride to your house is excruciatingly silent. You're awkward, and he doesn't know how to speak to you. It's just terrible.

"This is my house.." You speak up quietly as he stops the car. "Well.. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?.." He asks as you nod, unfastening your seat belt and scrambling to get out of the car. "What was your name again?..." He asks as you sigh nervously. "I'm Y/n... L/n Y/n..." You answer as he nods. "Nice. I'm Nishimura Riki.."

And like an idiot, you respond, "I know..." Riki chuckles, smiling. "Then you'll know we have class together.. Don't forget to say hi."

He then drives off, leaving you on the pavement dumbfounded. After a few minutes, you shake it off, heading inside as you take off your shoes. Just to your luck, your mom is on her way out. 

"What are you doing home?.." Your mom questions, brows furrowed inquisitively as she slid into her sneakers. 

"Some girl threw a drink at me at work, so my boss let me go home..." You explain as she scoffs. "You're so weak... Your sister would've kept working.. Learn to endure."

And then she leaves, grabbing her keys before slamming the front door behind her. You hear the lock click shortly after, letting out a sigh of relief.

You hated being compared to your sister. She graduated with honors, and you're barely keeping A's and B's... She's just better... And your mom is no help, constantly comparing you to her. It's definitely not fair because your sister is far from perfect, but you try not to let it haunt you.

The first thing you do is shower, the icky feeling of the soda making your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. After showering, you wash the clothes to avoid the soda staining them permanently. Once all of that is handled, you're rummaging through the kitchen for something decent to eat. In the end, you're settling for pizza rolls and some instant ramen. 

After eating the very random meal, you head upstairs to work on your homework, but to your luck, you left it in the cute boy's car. 

Great, another assignment to fail. You think to yourself as you open your laptop, ready to email your teacher in hopes they'll be understanding. Just as you're about to hit send, a notification sounds on your phone, the screen illuminating with a text from an unknown number. 

You open it, and to your luck its Riki. 

[Hey, it's Riki. I found your backpack in the backseat... I would bring it back, but I'm busy tonight.. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow?] 

You sigh at the text, deciding to just forget the email and hope that homeroom gives you enough time to complete the homework.

[Yeah.. Tomorrow is fine... I need it during homeroom.]

[Great, I'll be there as soon as school starts.]

You thank him before setting your phone on the desk, sighing loudly. This day has been terrible, practice sucked, you got a drink thrown at you, and now your backpack is at some boy's house all because you accepted a ride home.

You just decide to push everything aside, getting in bed and watching random corny kdramas until you fall asleep.

It's rare that you ever get a good night's rest. If you hadn't left work early, you'd barely be home at 8pm... Luckily you got to sleep a little earlier, but just as quickly as you got lucky, you got unlucky.

You wake up to loud sounds coming from downstairs, and you're already aware of the familiar yelling voices. 

You leave your room, heading quietly down the stairs as you hear your parents yelling, something about money and your dad being irresponsible. 

You're used to the banter, and sometimes you just filter it out, but the sounds of broken glass was slightly alarming.

You peek into the kitchen, your parents are at each other's throats, and eventually your mom just yells for your dad to get out.

The man manages one last rude remark before leaving the house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Just as your mom walks out of the kitchen, you try to ask if she's alright, she simply pushes past you, heading upstairs quietly.

Your sister still isn't home. God knows what she's out doing this time of night, but you're sure it isn't working.

Almost every last penny of your paycheck goes to your mom, and your sister's paycheck is never the same amount. You know for sure she's blowing it off selfishly, and your mom knows too, but she doesn't care.

One time you bought a new pair of shoes with your check since your family wasn't too far behind on bills, and boy you never heard the end of it. That's why you just give all the money you make to your mother.

And yet she still favorites your older sister. But you try your best to please her anyway. In the end you really don't have a way to impress her, unless you won the lottery maybe.. 

You genuinely just want a normal senior year, and at this point you'll do anything to get it.

[beanghostprincess]

Silly vampire buggy being so very normal about it while the rest are absolutely FERAL is so funny.

Buggy, before Roger passed, still on the Oro: hmm, I'm kinda thirsty-

Shanks, ripping his already open shirt further off: Oh Dear, Oh My Look At ALL THIS So Very BITEABLE SKIN, Sure Hope There's No VAMPIRES Thirsting Near Me, Wink Wink!!!!

Buggy: I bet Gabban still has some juice boxes. I hope he has that guava one. I'll be right back!

Shanks, half naked and drooping: 🥺😟😥😫

<><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: I read this interesting novel yesterday which gave me much to ponder.

Buggy: oh? Awesome! Which was it?

Mihawk, side-eying Buggy pointedly: it was a supernatural romance between a human and vampire. It was rather explicit and had many scenes which piqued my interest.

Buggy, absolutely Not Getting It: oh man. I usually hate those. It's a toss up between bad writing or the vampire is always a top. Like? Give me gay bottom vampires too, we deserve to be recognized!! Oh, Hawky, can you hand me my sunscreen?

Mihawk: ........... here.

Buggy: thanks, love!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile: hey you drink blood.

Buggy, sipping A+ out of a care bear cup: yeah?

Croc: does it work on Logia users? Or would your fangs need Haki to pierce us?

Buggy: hm. Good question? I dunno, actually!

Crocodile: seems this could be a learning experience. Would be a shame to not experiment. I know how much you like your science.

Buggy: I do like science. Yeah. Yeah. You're right! I SHOULD experiment on that!!

Croc, unbuttoning his shirt, tugging down his cravat: uh huh, well, I suppose we ought to get to it- where are you going

Buggy: to my workshop! Science waits for no man!!! Nor clown, in my case. Man clown? Vampire? Who knows. Wait. Am I a man...? Hm, what is the gender today... wait, have I eaten at all? I don't remember. Anyway, I need to grab my suit, I'm low on sunscreen again. Oh, remind me to add that to the next shipment request. Oh, I should also grab a bloody mary!! That sounds great! Okay. Bye bye!!

Croc, halfway undressed, watching Buggy run outside, start swearing bc he didn't pull up his hood and is cursing the light, before tripping flat onto his face: ............. shit.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy rarely pushes the limits of his abilities BECAUSE of the vampirism. If he uses his DF more than usual, it makes him hungrier. And once he hits a certain point, he begins to lose his already loosey-goosey sense of humanity. It scares him to be so cold and uninterested, especially since he always feels things turned up to eleven. When his hits that point, EVERYTHING turns off. At best, he'll be mildly annoyed, angry, amused - but it's like being in a glass bowl, watching things happen from the outside. It terrifies him.

His partners...? Well. It does things to them too, but terror isn't exactly the dominating feeling... 👀

((Also, the romanticism of blood. Of life energy. Of an exchange of that out of love. Of giving parts of yourself to sustain and satiate another. Carrying pieces of someone else in your body to propagate your own life. Of giving and taking consensually the liquid which carries your time. The inherent provocative nature of taking someone else's essence into yourself with full permission and full understanding because they receive so much from you in turn that it is simple, easy, logical to consent to this.))

Vampires 🥰

THE FIRST ONE IS SO REAL EFJKBWEJKBWJEKBF Shanks does that constantly he's DYING for Buggy to bite him and the clown won't even notice he's trying so much. It's ridiculous. Shanks and his failguy moment simping for a vampire that doesn't want his blood.

Mihawk and Crocodile trying to flirt and failing miserably because Buggy is always oblivious to what they do is amazing and no matter the AU it's always like this. I adore. They just want their vampire boyfriend to bite them :(( Failguys.

The last thing you said is so real. Vampires can be something so romantic and I think usually books/TV shows/Media in general don't focus on the important stuff. I want to see teen!Shuggy with Buggy and Shanks traveling together right after the crew disbands (before Roger's death) and Buggy not having access to other types of blood. So Shanks offers him his blood and they have like-- This moment of realization of how intimate it is. And Buggy will forever remember what it felt like to feel Shanks' embrace while sucking his blood without any complaints. And!! Both Mihawk and Crocodile wanting to do the same but it's definitely just for the horny, they don't expect it to be so passionate and intimate, and romantic.

Also, I agree with Buggy, the vampire should be the bottom. Really necessary for this situation.

[m-jelly]

I have a request for gangster/mafia erwin bc i loved your fic extra special guest

Reader is pregnant with Erwin’s twins and someone gets a little to aggressive wanting to know who fathered her babies. Or reader gets some unwanted touches and incurs Erwin’s wrath

Wrath of the King.

Erwin x fem!reader

Modern AU, gangs, gang leader Erwin, married, pregnant reader, protective Erwin, threats of violence, violence, caring Erwin.

While waiting for your husband in a hotel he owns, a man approaches you and starts flirting with you a lot. When you stand your ground and tell him your husband is here, he aggressively asks who it is so he can challenge them. Erwin arrives and saves you from the man's advances.

@mari-zs

"Stay right here, okay?"

You nodded. "Promise."

Erwin leaned closer and kissed you, he was just so big compared to you. He cupped your belly and gently moved his large hands. "Be good for mummy, little ones."

You giggled and patted your bump. "They'll be good."

"I shouldn't be long. The staff here will look after you. Take a seat in the lobby."

You shuffled to the sofa and plopped yourself down. "Way ahead of you, honey."

Erwin blew you a kiss before heading to the meeting room. He checked his phone and sent you a few loving texts. He admired the picture he had of you on his background and the lock screen of the baby scan. He sighed long before turning to a room full of gangsters he had contracts with and worked under him. Erwin was a mighty man.

You rubbed your belly as you sighed. You smiled softly at the lady from the front desk as she handed you a drink and snacks. "Thank you."

She bowed to you. "You're welcome, Mrs Smith. Just let me know if you need anything else."

You sipped your drink and grinned. "Will do." You hummed a little to yourself as you enjoyed your snack and drink. "Well, little ones, I hope you enjoy this snack 'cause I am."

Smart shoes tapped against the marble floor and grew closer. It was clear from the sound it was not Erwin, he had a more confident walk. So, you didn't bother looking up even when they stood next to you and cleared their throat. You were not interested.

"Excuse me?"

You slowly looked up at a man in a cheaper suit than Erwin's, his hair was slicked back with too much product and he had too much gold jewellery on. "Hm, what?"

He smirked at you. "You alone?"

"No."

"You look alone."

You groaned. "Do you have a habit of trying to talk to pregnant women?"

He eyed you. "I'm attracted to pregnant women. It's sexy."

You pulled a face. "Kind of gross saying that to a woman you don't know."

He sat down next to you. "I'd like to get to know you."

"I wouldn't. Please leave."

He frowned at you. "You're rather rude."

You let out a long sigh. "I am, so leave."

He put his arm around you. "Who's your man, huh? What kind of man left you alone?"

You glared at him. "Back off."

"Who is he, huh?" He grabbed your upper arm and squeezed hard. "Who is this man who knocked you up?"

"He is my husband and if my husband sees you grabbing me like this he'll kill you."

"Love?" The two of you look over at Erwin standing on the other side of the coffee table. He had a smile on his face, but the look in his eyes was pure homicidal rage. "What's going on here?"

You tugged your arm but you couldn't get free. "This guy won't leave me alone. He has a thing for pregnant women. He was demanding to know who knocked me up. I said, my husband!"

Erwin walked closer to the man. "Mind releasing my wife?"

The man let you go but stood up, he was smaller than Erwin and failed badly at being intimidating. "I want her and I'll take her."

Erwin grinned wide as his eyes got much darker, he wanted to torture and kill. "That so? Fascinating. Tell me, just how are you going to do that? Hm?"

You fiddled with your dress. "Honey?"

Erwin looked over at you. "Love. I need you to be a good girl and go to reception, okay?"

You rose to your feet and hummed. "Should I get anyone?"

"I'll take care of it."

The man grabbed you. "She's not going anywhere."

Erwin softly called your name. "Close your eyes, love. Don't open until I say."

You closed them tightly. "Done."

First, you heard the scared stammering of the man next to you. He released you from his hold as he tried to reason with Erwin, but it was too late. Soon after the pleading, there was the sound of a big fist meeting flesh. Bones started cracking and gargled pleas began.

Blood spat on the floor and had a nice patting sound to it. A fumble and a bang happened which you assumed was the man falling over. The hitting sounds didn't stop though, they just continued for a while until it was clear the man wasn't going to fight back at all.

Erwin's pants made you shiver. His voice was deep and laced with a commanding dark tone. "That woman there is my wife, mine. She is having my babies, do you understand me?" He spoke louder, so you assumed there was a crowd. "You all hear me? This woman here is my wife! She is having my babies! You touch them and I'll rip your fucking spines out."

That shocked you. Erwin rarely swore, so to hear him be pushed to say something like that excited and aroused you. The man was incredible. He demanded respect and easily got it. He was a fair and kind leader, but his dark side was frightening to anyone who came across it. Erwin Smith had a dark and twisted mind, so no one dared wrong him. Most people didn't want to because he was a great leader.

"Love?"

You smiled. "Mm?"

"Open your eyes." He smiled when you did, his hair was messy and there was blood on his face. "So gorgeous. You were a good girl."

"I always am."

He hummed a laugh. "Except for the bedroom."

You pouted a bit as your heart raced. "It's fun there." You rummaged in your bag.

"It is What are you looking for?"

You pulled out some wet wipes from your bag. "You have umm..."

He raised a brow. "Ah, blood. I went a bit too rough and got it on me, correct?"

"Yes." You wiped his face. "Messy." You giggled. "All better."

"Thank you." He leaned closer and kissed you. "So precious." You peeked around him to see the broken man was being taken away and the blood cleaned. The crowd he'd spoken to were his own men and those who'd been in the meeting. No one would dare touch you after this. "Love? Why are you distracted? Pay attention to me."

You cupped his face. "So cute. Shall we go home?"

"Yes, please." He pulled you close. "I want to hold you in my arms for hours on end."

[bonkwosher]

Poly!Lacho x Reader When You First Met Headcanons

Inspired By: @asgardianangel03 1000%, if you like Lacho go to their account bc ahhhhhhh it's so fucking good (They have a whole story). I didn't see any other Lacho x Reader so I just had to make my own.

Contains: Mentions of the cartel, drunk people, heavy flirting, fluff, implied stalking (Lalo be silly like that)

Pairing: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamance x Reader x Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

A normal person would feel guilty even considering what these two found themselves doing. Nacho maybe felt a bit guilty, but Lalo? Hell no. Nacho wrote it off as protecting Lalo from himself, denying any feelings that may have swayed his decision, while Lalo might have grown to be a bit obsessive a bit quick (But hey, that's Lalo). They had followed you just to get another taste, addicted to the sight of you.

You weren't even theirs. You entered El Michoacáno once, Lalo looked up ready to ask Nacho to shoo you out. He froze, lips parting in pure shock from your radiance. Returning from a long day of job interviews dressed in a suit/dress, you just wanted something to eat. When you caught the eye of whatever drug dealer was talking with Nacho, Lalo actually felt scared.

"Ignacio," he spoke swiftly. Nacho had never heard Lalo call him his actual name at work, it was something they saved for when they were at home. Nacho looked up from the wad of cash in his hand & noticed the man eyeing you.

Nacho shooed you out saying they were closed & you somehow hadn't noticed the extremely suspicious activities. Later that night you ran into the couple again, you presumed by coincidence but far from that. It was a fancy restaurant & you were going out with an old friend. You noticed Nacho first, he was admiring you from their table & turned away as you saw him. Knowing he was caught he got up & walked up to your table.

"Hello, I don't know if you remember me but you walked into the business I own earlier today & I ushered you out quickly. We were... talking about franchising & I just had to apologize, can I buy you a drink?"

Lalo had heard how smoothly his partner introduced himself as he was walking up a bit behind Nacho. "Ignacio, I'm going to grab us some wine. Red or white?" He pretended he wasn't just here to see you up close. "You don't have to buy me anything, sir. It's honestly not a problem."

"You can buy me a drink," your friend flirted, eliciting a chuckle from Nacho. "I truly wish to pay you back, can you allow me that?" With a bit more resistance you finally caved, "Alright sure. Thank you..." You trailed off, hinting that you wanted a name. "Ignacio, Ignacio Varga." You gave him a sweet smile, "Y/N L/N, nice to meet you, Ignacio."

You & your friend ended up moving to Lalo & Nacho's table, your friend flirting with them much more than you had. It didn't matter, you were already in their sights. Lalo laid the flirting on hard while Nacho was more discreet, asking more personal questions rather than simply bluntly admiring you. Among the banter, a question slipped that would forever change your fate, "Why were you all dressed up when you showed up at El Michoacáno anyways?"

Within moments of your explanation ending Lalo offered you a job. His "personal assistant" he said. Helping him with his businesses that he runs in Albaquerque & scheduling his meetings. Nacho gave Lalo a deadpan look, pulling you close to the cartel business was the last thing he wanted.

Lalo at this point was basically shitfaced & responds with, "Ignacio, are you afraid I'll like them more than you?" as he dragged out both the first & last words. Your face went flush, you couldn't deny that both men were insanely attractive though getting between them was not ideal.

Later that night, Lalo clung to Nacho's shoulder as Nacho offered you a ride home, seeing as he was the only non-drunk person out of the four of you. Your friend called shotgun & Nacho didn't want to argue so they sat in the front while Lalo sat in the back with you. Your friend unabashedly flirted at this point making it easy for Nacho to explain that he would drop them off first due to their behavior.

Lalo on the other hand, pulled you into a hug immediately. His big arms wrapped around your midsection & pulled you close before he conked the fuck out. If you knew Lalo you'd know this was an insanely rare moment. Not only where he'd allow himself to get so drunk but to the point where he'd sleep near someone he barely knew. Dare I say you were the first to see this. Hearing Lalo snore, Nacho realized you were special to his boyfriend.

When Nacho pulled up to your house he had to reach into the back & pull Lalo's tight grip apart to set you free. You quietly thanked him, completely flustered. He walked you to your front door & looked back at his partner who was still conked the fuck up.

"Lalo really sees something in you, I would love to see you take that job."

"I'd love to talk more about it, you two seem wonderful."

You two exchanged numbers & Nacho wished you goodnight before rushing to his now waking-up boyfriend.

"Goodnight Ignacio!" He couldn't help but smile at your response.

[kissingrhi]

the kim x reader headcanon post has my life in shambles. oh my fucking GOD. i love her so much, thank you for writing that, the well is so dry for kimreader stuff <3 <3 <3 i appreciate it more than you know. i know you seem busy with rqs (i loved the latest batch of them so much as well!!!) but could i put in one for a praise kink oriented kim x reader? reader could be her new paralegal or something, she makes you really, really flustered with all sorts of what you think are friendly, innocuous comments until she makes a bold move (and you end up fucking in her office after hours, i'm thinking like S&C era?) thank you so much again, i love all of your posts!

detailed requesters, you have my heart and soul. lovely people get me out of writers block mwah!! haven't written for bcs in a while, but this is waking my brain up! i love kimberly wexler.

cw — reader has female anatomy, some gendered-terms used (good girl mainly), many mentions of reader masturbation, so much sexual tension it is sickening, employee/employer relations, kim seems mean at the beginning but she folds, thigh riding, light dom/sub dynamics, oral sex/fingering (kim goes down on reader), tons of dirty talk, hint of overstimulation, PRAISE KINK

"hey, hey." you were snapped out of your trance. "you there?"

you noticed your shaking leg, instantly stopping and sitting right up. "yeah, yeah." you were extremely unconvincing, catching the slight eyebrow raise kim sent you. "i just had a rough night." her eyebrows rose more. "i was up late. with a- project. haha!" your tone was unconvincing, but she didn't push. you were obviously lying.

god, this was awkward.

nonetheless, she sent you a glimmering smile, her beautiful blue eyes softening. "that's okay." her voice echoed throughout her office. how she managed to sound gentle in such an empty, void space was beyond you.

you noticed a stack of papers in front of you that weren't there before. "well, these are some new forms i need put on file for mesa verde. can you have them in by tomorrow?" she asked, firmly now, switching right back into her professional tone. you took a deep, harsh breath in at the sheer amount of paperwork. she chuckled, "i know you're new and this is a lot to take in, so if you would rather me take on some that's perfectly fine. this-" she motioned to the papers " -is a lot to get used to."

"no, that's alright. i've got it." you grinned, almost giddy to take on the job. the apples of your cheeks crinkled under your eyes, a genuine smile being returned to the one she threw earlier. you noticed a twinkle in her eye, but you were sure you were imagining things. that's what you get for not getting enough sleep.

"good." was all she said, her heel now clicking over and over again on the floor. "how about brunch tomorrow?" she asked, a look on her face you couldn't quite figure out.

"sure." you replied, grabbing the papers and your bag. you started to make your way out, but not before adding a, "goodnight, kim." quickly you caught yourself, turning around, face slowly heating up. "wait- i can call you kim, right? am i being unprofessional?"

she cracked a downturned smile at that one, holding back a laugh. "no, no. you're not being unprofessional. yes, you can call me kim." her smiled remained even when she said, "we don't want any weird power dynamics." she tilted her head at you, pursing her lips before beginning to put on her jacket.

"right- okay." you smiled again. "goodnight. see you tomorrow."

"okay, brunch." was all she returned with, yet somehow it wasn't uncomfortable at all.

the next morning, you woke up extra early. jumping in the shower at a fresh 5'o clock, you made sure to look your most presentable for kim. you didn't want to fumble your new job as a paralegal on the first day. you even started to work on the forms a little bit, ignoring the grueling headache that was beginning to form from not being able to drink coffee first thing in the morning, since you'd boldly decided to wait until brunch.

when you finally arrived at said brunch, almost all of the stack was gone. maybe you got a little carried away trying to impress your new boss, but when has being a people pleaser ever done you wrong?

you were fidgeting with your watch when kim walked in, grinning at you as she sat down in front of you. "so, paperwork? i know you're loving it." her voice was still a little groggy from just waking up, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a certain way. her makeup and hair were a little unkempt, but she seemed more relaxed than the day prior.

"oh, just having the time of my life." you returned her energy, resulting in snickers from the both of you. "actually, i just-" you pulled out the last few papers. "i need to finish these few and i'll be done."

kim was impressed. not that you could tell. "that's-" she coughed, getting herself more comfortable in her seat before crossing her hands over the edge of the table. "that's really good. good work. good job."

"thank you." you cautiously replied, unsure of why she was repeating the word 'good' so goddamn much. it was kind of making you sweat. "can we get some coffee?" you cut the silence.

"of course."

brunch went well, the two of you actually hit it off extremely well. you found out that you have a lot of the same interests, tastes in art and music, and the same favorite breakfast food. french toast, obviously. you found that working and communicating with her was a lot easier than employers you'd previously dealt with. you also found that kim was incredibly hard to read, as she loved saying off-putting things that made you unsure if you were doing something incredibly wrong or incredibly right. like when you two were discussing your work ethic, you shamelessly spouted that you're willing to do more than what's asked if you, even if there's no reward. to which she replied, "that's very satisfactory. i'll definitely keep that in mind." you tried to ignore the sudden feverish feeling that swept over your body at her prideful tone. she was just being polite, being your employer.

the next few days seemed to fly by, and you noticed it was the first occurrences of you ever being genuinely excited to come into work. you woke up earlier, paid more attention to your attire, did things for extra credit, and most of all: built a relationship with kim. this relationship was interesting: you weren't quite sure what to call it.

you weren't sure if she knew just the affect she had on you, if she knew you had an affinity for praise, so much of an affinity, however: that it made you feel weak and fuzzy inside, made you feel like you were going to spontaneously combust and melt into the ground with every lasting touch she made to your shoulder or each time she complimented you on how "talented of an employee you were." it made your blood run hot every single time, feeling waves of bashfulness run throughout your entire body, especially your suddenly twisting stomach. any sort of compliment turned you into a blubbering, sweaty mess and you absolutely hated it. you were trying to prove yourself to be a professional after all. for your employer.

you brushed it off, though, knowing that she was the most experienced lawyer you'd ever met, and not a meek employee whose knees buckle at the mere mention of how good of a job they're doing. definitely not someone who fantasized about their boss late at night.

you swallowed the lump that was suddenly building in your throat as you stepped into her office to give her some notes from interested corporations in a new pursuit, which she hadn't even asked for. you set them down gently, since she was intently typing on her computer. as you got up to leave, you were held back by a simple, "what's this?" her tone was indecipherable. as you turned, you saw her quickly finding and staring directly into your eyes.

"i- i knew you wanted to add more clients besides mesa verde, so i gathered a few." you felt like a pushover all of a sudden, humiliation starting to run deep in your veins. you stared down at your feet. "is that okay?" you internally cringed at how docile your voice sounded. you looked up to find her amused, looking at you like she knew something you didn't. it made you shudder.

"of course it's okay, thank you. just don't take on too much, okay?" she answered, looking at you sternly like her statement wasn't up for debate. "i want you to have time for yourself." she added, lips quirking slightly. you couldn't tell if she was genuine, slightly making fun of you, or both. maybe she was endeared. you didn't want to think too hard about it.

"okay." was all you answered. your mouth felt dry, and you were mindlessly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. she noticed your coyness, adding insult to injury: "that's a pretty color on you." you paused your fidgeting, looking up at her. "i'll see you tomorrow. get some good sleep in." her timbre was assertive. without saying a word, you quietly left her office, instantly releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you had to zip to a bathroom, patting your face with cold water and cursing yourself for the sinful thoughts slowly approaching your mind.

you finally arrived home that night, slinging yourself onto your bed with a frustrated sigh. you felt petulance at yourself for feeling so lustfully towards your boss, who was merely doing her job. you felt stupid. you felt like a whore.

'maybe that's what she'd call you if she knew.'

that thought instantly led to many others, and you found your body moving before your brain could stop it. when you got yourself off that night, desperately riding your fingers to gain some sort of release from the intense thoughts filling your head, you never took off the shirt that she told you you looked pretty in.

you felt insanely ashamed the next morning, waking up in the same clothes from previously, feeling mortified when you looked at your clock. you were late. you scrambled to get up, not even bothering to shower. you threw on random clothes, trying to ignore how flustered you felt. you masturbated thinking about your boss. if you could disappear, you would totally take that opportunity.

you didn't even bother checking the speed limit as you rushed to get to the office, touching yourself up in your rearview mirror before haphazardly pulling into your parking space, almost running inside the building. you mentally prepared yourself for having to deal with what you'd done the night before and with what kim had to say about your late arrival.

you twisted the doorknob as slowly as you possibly could, almost tripping over your feet as you were caught with her disappointed stare.

"you're late." she said, matter-of-factly, standing up. she was glaring so hard you thought she could see right through into the wall behind you. you knew you were fucked. you'd only been working for her for a couple weeks, and you'd already screwed up. you swore you were tearing up, just from the sheer embarrassment. "we'll talk after 5." she curtly stated, pointing to you and then your desk.

5 had never come slower. you didn't move from your desk the entire day, except to pee one time. when you did, you felt her eyes boring into your back. the silence was deafening, and the anticipation had you tingling the entire workday. when the forbidden hour finally arrived, you shakily grabbed your stuff, wobbling towards her desk, avoiding looking into her eyes.

"look at me." of course, you instantly did, your eyes wide with hesitation. "i'll let you being late slide for today. don't let it happen again." you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. "there's actually something else i wanted to talk to you about." once again, you couldn't decode what she was trying to say from her tone alone. timidly, you took a seat on the chair in front of her desk, leaning your back against it in a lame attempt at looking unbothered. anyone could tell you were a wreck. she took the opportunity to walk around the vicinity of the front end of her desk, leaning against the front, so that she was situated just in front of you.

"what'd you do when you got home last night? since you know, it was obviously a lot." she asked, a smirk plastered on her face.

you furrowed your eyebrows. you had no idea where this was going. you really hoped you were a good liar. "i, uh- i did what people normally do, you know- ate dinner, showered, got some work done, slept." she let your words seep into the tension-filled air of the room, your lies settling in the quaint atmosphere. she looked at you through her eyebrows. "no i mean, really. what did you do?" you could tell she didn't believe you. you still played dumb.

"i don't really know what else to add. i watched a movie." you were lying straight through your teeth, and it was insanely obvious. you couldn't even look her directly in the eyes. you were staring at her nose, barely blinking. barely breathing at that point. she reached forward to place your chin between her pointer finger and her thumb, lifting your head up to an embarrassingly high position, just to see if you'd swat her away or go pliant. "oh, come on, tell me more." she was being condescending, her heeled foot going to separate the two feet you had crossed on the floor.

your breath hitched, and your brain started to short circuit. you couldn't tell if this was really happening. "be good and tell me." oh, if that didn't make you feel intoxicated with her presence. the words made you tremble, a speedy pulse being shot throughout many areas of your body. you couldn't look away even if you wanted to. it was like every aspect of her being was itching for you to respond.

your voice broke when you barely whispered, "i touched myself." she saccharinely grinned, going back to sit in her chair, leaving you speechless and extremely embarrassed. you were definitely getting fired. she glanced at you, intently staring like she was debating on what to say. "you know- when i say you're one of, if not, the best employees i've had, i truly mean that." she seemed indifferent. "you're just so-" she paused again, still not breaking eye contact. "well-behaved." you felt dazed. "thanks." she laughed, a real laugh this time. "see, you're proving my point! come sit." she patted her leg, watching you connect the dots and shakily walk over.

"now i want you to be a doll for me, and tell me what you thought about." she rasped, gently grabbing your hips to straddle her clothed thigh. "should we be doing-" she shushed you instantly. you squeezed your eyes shut, hips ghosting against the firm muscle. you started talking first. "i thought about-" she pushed your body down, guiding you. a tiny gasp escaped your mouth and you wanted to bury your head in her neck. "keep going for me." your hips stuttered at her low, barely audible voice, as you began to squirm. you found your rhythm, barely panting, trying to keep your composure as you explained yourself. "i thought about you- telling me what to do." you sighed after the admittance, needily grinding your body down more, reveling in her pleased chuckle. she added on, her hands finding a spot on your ass, barely touching you. "i was telling you how good you are?" she teased, mocking the high-pitched 'uh-huh' you released right after.

she stopped you before you could do too much. "can you take your pants off for me?" she asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. you've never moved more quickly in your life, instantly shedding your trousers, not even feeling exposed in front of the domineering woman. "there you go." she purred, lightly pushing you to sit on her desk. she took in your state, totally opposite to the professional, eager employee she knew you to be. you looked lust-struck, like you were stuck in a haze you couldn't shake. "look at you, obeying me. you have no idea how crazy you make me feel." she sunk down in front of where you were sitting, just behind her name plate. her veiny, nimble hands found their way to your supple thighs, easing them apart. you instinctually whined, feeling exposed. she groaned, hands gripping your skin.

"it's just so cute how much you're willing to do for me. you're such a good girl, hm?" her eyes glimmered, smiling at your nod and sexually frustrated stare. she wanted to reward you for your good behavior. she started to press open mouthed kisses along your thighs, still staring up at you. her eyes glistened in the low sunlight that slipped through her blinds. "can i finger you?" she was concise, giggling again at your shyness. "yeah."

"need to reward you," she mumbled against the top of your underwear band, before reaching to pull them off, but not before neatly setting them beside your trousers, which made you laugh. "what? i like it neat, ok?" she had you so smitten you just beamed at her, not even questioning that she just cleanly folded your (very wet) panties. she ran her pedicured nails just over the outside of your pussy, listening for the hushed, obedient "kim" she desperately craved to hear. she kindly placed her mouth to your clit, feeling herself grow more and more aroused at how your whining turned into pleading for her to continue. "god, you're so beautiful, you've got no idea." she sensually whispered against your tender flesh, her hands going to push your thighs closer to her face.

she licked a single stripe from your hole all the way up to your sensitive clit before sneakily sticking two fingers into your aching hole, she moaned lowly in unison with you when she did so. you bit your lip, head falling back on your shoulders as her fingers started to quicken their pace, her thumb going to rub broad circles into your clit. you cried out at the sudden pleasure, "kim- oh my- shit!" she sped up her pace, practically urging for you to shove your cunt closer to her face. "that's it, doing so good for me. sweet girl." the vibrations of her voice didn't help the coiling heat threatening to snap from inside of you.

she didn't stop speeding up until you were rutting your hips against her face like a bitch in heat. her fingers were ruthless against your desperate figure, spreading your hole apart and pushing as far as they could to make you feel stuffed. to make you go stupid. she was stretching you open, and the pressure was almost too much. "my god- kim-" you stammered, your moans escaping your mouth like a mantra. you weren't even thinking at that point, all you knew was kim and her talented fingers.

you were quaking, your submissive moans echoing throughout her empty office space, not even feeling shame anymore. all you could focus on were her fingers, how deeply she knew to reach you. your muscles were tightening when her tongue slipped in alongside her fingers, which were now toying with your g-spot. "kim, please- please let me cum." to which she replied, "only because you asked so nicely." the way that you naturally pleaded made her throb, speeding up her pace even more to push you further than you'd known before.

instantly, you came against her face, trembling with aftershocks. she pulled away from in between your legs, only to say, "you'll be good and take what all i give you, right?" before diving right back in.

[secretlystephaniebrown]

Rereading GCSS bc it is in someone's bookmarks I'm trawling through and I had A Thought. So question: Would you ever consider writing a snippet where Harley and Guy politely discuss custody?

So you know, I've been sitting on this for a while, going "I'll write a snippet for this eventually."

And then whoops.

I don't think this is a snippet anymore.

Enjoy!

On Ao3

--

Guy Gardner meets Harleen Quinzel for the first time on the day of Crystal Brown’s wedding.

Guy was what the bridesmaid’s had dubbed a “Guysmaid” which was hilarious. He didn’t like Arthur, but he was willing to keep the peace because it made Crystal happy, and she was practically glowing, and only partially because she was three months pregnant under that concoction of taffeta and lace that was a wedding dress.

Harley wasn’t in the wedding, mostly because while Arthur and Guy got into aggressive staring contests on occasion and argued about petty things, Arthur hated Harley.

Which, in Guy’s book, signified that Harley was obviously a great person.

Once the actual ceremony was over, and Guy had managed to snag his dance with Crystal, which had Ma Bellinger having yet another fit about his involvement in the wedding as a whole, he grabbed two beers and went in search of the brunette.

They didn’t exactly get along, in the end. They were very dissimilar people. He was loud and abrasive and ready for a fight at all times, with a chip on his shoulder and a heart of gold. She was, in those days, a doctor with a romantic streak, with a bad tendency to psychoanalyze people after she had a few drinks.

They didn’t fight, because it was a wedding, and neither wanted to upset Crystal.

But in the end, they withdrew to their separate corners (Harley to the college friends, Guy to the Bellingers) and mutually resolved to spend as little time as possible with the other.

And then, a few months later, Crystal had the baby.

Harley gets the call first. Then, after Crystal rejects every single one of Arthur’s suggestions for godfather, Crystal calls Guy.

Guy is only a little bitter about coming second, but he gets that Crystal wanted someone more local first. He’s in Michigan, in those days, playing college football and working through his degree in special education, and he’s not sure where he’s going to end up next. Even if Harley leaves Gotham, she’ll probably just go to New York, which is hardly any distance at all from New Jersey.

He does, however, double down on spoiling Stephanie every chance he gets.

And when Harley disappears and becomes Harley Quinn…

Well, he triples down instead. He’s got to make up the difference, you see.

----

Harley and Guy both get the call at the same time, because the social workers in question aren’t sure how to find Harley, and Guy’s got an out of state area code on his phone number, so they’re not sure if he’s even available.

Guy has a slight head start, since the call to him is direct, rather than having to go through Harley’s mom, but Robinson Park is closer to Manchester, so Harley has a shorter drive.

Harley gets there first, in the end, by a slender margin, which is probably for the best, because if Guy witnessed her be confused about Crystal and Steph, he might have thrown something.

Guy shows up a few moments later, before Harley even gets in the house.

He looks at Harley, and squints for a moment, because of the blonde hair, but he places the heavy New York accent quickly enough.

Harley, now that she’s in the right mindset, recognizes him as well, and the two manage to keep their mouths shut until the social worker is out of the house and Steph is upstairs packing.

Then they start the hushed-tones argument.

“If you think for a moment I’m letting you take her to the Joker,” Guy says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not—we’re broken up! I’ve got a house! Well, it’s Selina’s house technically, but Mister J’s in Arkham right now, he’s not—anyways, you live out of state!”

“At least she’ll be safe with me,” Guy snaps, because he’d been friends with Bruce Wayne long enough to know a few things about Gotham City.

“She’d be safe!” Harley protested hotly. “I’d never let anything happen to her!”

“It’s fucking Gotham,” he points out. “Nothing’s safe here!”

“You really want to take her away from her mom?” Harley retorts. “And school starts soon, you want to… uproot her life? It’s good for a kid to have stability?”

Something shifts in Guy’s face. “Fuck. Crystal.” He points at Harley. “Put a pin in this, because we’re not done here. I need to make a call. I’m getting Crystal moved to a better facility.”

“Hey, I was going to do that!” Harley protested. “How do you have that sort of money?”

“I don’t. But I can call in a favor,” Guy said. He steps outside to make the call.

Harley puffs her bangs irritably, and then winces when she spots Stephanie Brown’s ponytail poking around the corner, obviously eavesdropping.

In the end, Harley suspects she knows how this is going to go. They’re probably going to have to take the issue to Steph herself.

Living with three supervillains but staying local, or going to Rhode Island to live with her Uncle Guy, who she actually vaguely knows?

If it weren’t for the fact that Stephanie Brown is so obviously Crystal’s daughter, Harley wouldn’t put money on her own chances of custody.

But then she starts hearing shouting coming from outside and she throws open the door to find out what’s going on, and she and Stephanie both get full view of Guy transforming into a Green Lantern to yell at Batman.

… huh.

Yeah, this is going to be tricky.

--

Steph doesn’t really. Know what’s happening anymore.

Her long-lost godmother is actually Harley Quinn, and she lives in a mansion in Gotham City with Poison Ivy and Catwoman. Uncle Guy, who she hasn’t really seen in-person since she was five, but who she knows from birthday cards and Christmas presents and fuzzy childhood memories, is apparently Green Lantern, and he lives in Rhode Island with the Justice League.

Also, he knows Batman, and is yelling at Batman for showing up at her house.

Guy clearly puts it together that she’s Spoiler on the spot, but he doesn’t call her out for it because Harley is there, but he lets Batman talk to her.

Before Batman can leave, but after he’s given her a communicator to contact him in emergencies, a third car pulls into the driveway, and Poison Ivy and a woman wearing a pantsuit that she assumes is Catwoman get out, and then Harley comes out of the house, and there’s more yelling.

Guy asks her if she wants to go inside to finish packing while the grownups hash it out, and she tells him no, since her life is being yelled about, and he shrugs and lets her stay.

He does give her a Zesti from the fridge though and lets her order pizza before he wades into the fight.

She sits down on the couch, watching Harley Quinn loudly promise to not break the Joker out of Arkham if she gets custody of Steph, while Guy points out that she’s a felon, and if it weren’t for the fact that Gotham City is a certified disaster zone, Harley wouldn’t even be eligible for custody.

Which sets Catwoman off about felon disenfranchisement and Batman looks like he has a headache, which is objectively hilarious.

She suspects that, no matter where she ends up next (she’s leaning towards going with Uncle Guy, personally, because even though Poison Ivy and Catwoman seem chill, it might be nice to live with people who aren’t supervillains for a while, plus Uncle Guy apparently lives with Big Barda, who is objectively one of the coolest people in the whole galaxy), her life will never be the same.

[webslingingslasher]

hello! I’ve got two little things i wanna tell you! (if you don’t mind LMAO)

okay so 1. i’ve been talking to the guy a bit, and since our schedules are so busy we haven’t gotten the chance to see each other since those seminars in like january/february, HOWEVER he was saying that he missed me and would like to meet up sometime soon! he also mentioned that he wanted to ask me out to lunch during one of those seminar days (there was a like 45 minute lunch break during the day, and a bunch of restaurants/take out places nearby). but then he didn’t because the both of us were busy with like homework/studying as well as like making sure to do the assignments given (i don’t think seminar is the right term but it’s still the only one i can think of rn!!)

ANYWAYS the second i kinda just need a less biased perspective i think???

so i think I’ve mentioned the girl who keeps complaining about her mom to me. so basically, she STILL DOES THAT! even tho I’ve literally asked her to stop. And she’s genuinely so mean! like she’ll literally grab things (mainly food or drinks) FROM YOUR HANDS. or go up to people (that she barley talks to!!) and literally goes “gimme” when they’re eating something she has. like personally i find it SOOO RUDE. and then today, i was standing, talking to one of my friends while drinking a coffee. this girl WALKED BY ME AND TRIED TO TAKE IT. and when i told her no, she called me a bitch 😭. but like ms girl knows how much i hate sharing drinks???? and its not like she can’t afford it bc she definitely can. ALSO THE MANNERS??? Like it’s so clear we were raised differently.

and then she’s also saying how after the term’s over she’ll have to move in with her mom rather than her dad (just cause of circumstances) and i understand that they may not have the best relationship (they argue a ton) but it really fucking hurts. and I’ve told her this!! and she still does it!!! and then when i tried telling her again she was like i know! (and then proceeded to keep talking about how much she hates her mom). And i swear id be there for her but like it’s every time i see her. It’s exhausting.

and man I’ve tried so hard to cut her off BUT SHE WONT LEAVE ME ALONE. idk i think im just very mad with her atm but like i really don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve spoken to one of our other friends, and she agrees with me!

anyways thank you for listening (reading) my rant 😭

-🦋

1.) YAAAS. GET THE BOY. WE STAN HIM!!!!!!

2.) if u don't ghost that cunt in real time i'll hate you. nah, jk, i've been there before. honestly, the ONLY way to get those types of people out of your life is to not hide the distain anymore.

texting you? ignore it. leave her on read.

she comes up to you and takes your shit? roll your eyes and make a comment about how you should've expected it.

you see what i'm saying? treat her how she treats you. i bet you it'll work.

[anderswasrightt]

fuck i'm actually kinda upset that i threw away my AA book solely bc i wanted to share the physical result of my misguided attempts at going to rural AA meetings as a mentally ill queer-but-not-yet-sure-how 20-something.

y'know how every rural group has That Old Fuck? mine was Old Dave. long story short, Old Dave finally pissed me off so much one day that i just got up and left in the middle of his rant.

walked home feeling all kinds of ways, no thoughts held on long enough to be considered coherent. got home, grabbed my blue book and a steak knife, soul leaking out through my eyes, brain conveniently still MIA, and went fucking feral on the damned thing right there on the kitchen floor. a good 10-15 minutes of vicious-turned-methodical stabbing of every inch of the front cover, the back cover, the spine. not a single page was spared. when i tired myself out i had a big cry and texted a photo of my work to a friend who was in the know captioned "please don't be mad, i think i had an emotion" and he immediately called me because i mean... wtf? how do you respond to something like that? after verifying that i was okay, "you think you *had an emotion*?? bro you straight up exorcized a demon! what's it like being the funniest motherfucker to ever walk through that church's basement door?"

i didn't think it funny at the time, but with the years between the act and myself, i gotta say, he was right. and while i still had the book, i'd occasionally stab it instead of drinking, so i guess it did do me some good after all lmao

cw relapse/drinking/cults > > > i'm sorry you had to go through the trauma that is AA, and i'm glad you found an effective way out. i personally would sporadically go to an AA meeting and get so pissed off that i'd go to the bar afterward just to be around people i felt were "normal" rather than these cult-like AA people. and i really do feel like it's borderline cultish. the big book and sponsors push you into these 12 steps, the final of which is doing the exact same thing your sponsor did to you but to other vulnerable people, and if you disagree with any part of it, you're shunned and all the people you thought were your friends in AA suddenly won't talk to you unless you take back your doubt. i wish i'd done something cathartic with my big book but it's just lying on my floor right now. my aoda counselor gave it to me so i'd feel bad destroying it lol. i might give it back to her and be like "sorry gurl it ain't for me" thank you for your message, and i hope your sobriety journey is going well

[oonajaeadira]

Also adira, I have a question. I was reading GTTT2 because I couldn’t sleep and was sad, I remember the part about he didn’t stay at a massage place bc he got in too deep with a client, not verbatim I know. Does reader worth about that? Does she wonder if she’s another oops? Is it not actually what we think it is? It’s been on my mind since last night bc I hyperfocus. Obviously not required to answer if you don’t want to!! Just thinking my thoughts - magic

Hello, dear Magic.

I'm sorry you could not sleep, and I'm sorry you were sad, and I'm sorry this answer has been a while in coming. But I have been thinking thots about it.

Does Preciosa worry about being a repeat of his former oops? Not exactly. I'm sure she wonders about it, and I'm going to address that soon enough.

Pats, though, he's a different story. If anyone is worrying about it, it's probably him....

Truth or Dare: Unblurring the Lines, part 1 (GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

(gif by javier-pena)

.

“Truth.” 

He’s not afraid of what you’ll ask him anymore. He understands how much you value this arrangement, appreciates that you’ve found a way to appease your curiosity, build a bond and yet gamify it with rewards. You make it playful, take the pressure off of what could otherwise be serious questions he really has no business answering. Except you’ve earned his trust. He’ll tell you whatever you want to know. He should really shut the game down. Re-establish control.

Soon.

He’s thought long and hard about it. Had a drink with Shell. Thinks he understands where this is all going. He’s finally got a strategy.

“It’s a pretty personal question,” you warn from the bed, laying on your side, head propped up on your elbow, one knee cascading down in front of the other, giving your hips a curve that confirms for him why artists so love the human form, “you might want to take your reward first.”

“And I might wear you out before you get to ask. So you’d better grab the chance now.” Pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor, he starts to work on his belt and zipper.

“Really. What did you have planned?”

He allows one corner of his mouth to pull up. “I thought we might try a little reenactment.”

“...Okay. Of what? The War of 1812?”

And then the other corner follows. “I was thinking we might run through the beats of that night in the hotel. You said something about this being a sacred space,” he slides in under the bed cover, “I thought we might bring that in. Include it. Let it exist here rather than out there.”

After coming across his note pinned to your refrigerator, that night has come back to haunt him with force, your mouth on him, taking you over and over with abandon...even allowing himself to curl around you in sleep. But he lost control there. Cringes when he realizes he should have respected you and allowed for that to happen in this sanctum. 

Not that you seemed to mind it, but these games you’ve been playing...you should be able to ask what you need to ask. He’s left you on unstable ground. He can fix that.

Curiously, the small smile you’d had melts away, and for a moment, he’s not completely sure what you’re thinking as you hold his gaze for a long moment.

But once you’ve moved under the sheets and got yourself cozied in–both of you as you were that night, chins drifting above the lip of the cover–you turn your head to meet his eye.

“Speaking of the hotel, you mentioned something in your note, something I’ve been curious about. Will you…” your gaze skips away, indicating that this question carries some level of difficulty for you, either in the subject matter, or the intrusion. “Will you tell me what happened with the client you got involved with?”

And when your eyes find his again, they deliver a shock of electricity through him. One he tries to dampen, ready to control its charge

“That’s tonight’s question?”

You nod. 

Yahtzee.

You’re right. It’s an extremely personal question coming from a client, but maybe not so much from you. You’ve already told him the story of your divorce, let him into your inner sanctum, so he’s been waiting for this reciprocal question from you. Banking on it, even. He just didn’t expect you to be so bold so soon. 

But then, you do tend to surprise him.

He’s going to stabilize this whole thing right here, right now. Undo any damage he might have caused by getting carried away in the hotel. Take that night and make it part of your sessions. Give you back the therapist you’ve come to trust. Make it clear to you why he won’t overstep, why he wouldn’t ask you for anything more.

He’s going to take care of you like you deserve to be taken care of.

And he’s going to make sure you want to keep coming back to him… because he can’t bear the thought of losing his favorite client. 

His favorite client.

This is the best way to accomplish this.

Best to keep it simple. Clinical. Lay it out on the table.

“I was going through a rough time, thought I was depressed and didn’t realize at first what was going on. She stared off as a regular massage client, but gradually, she got bold. Her advances started small, and I should have stopped things, but I was flattered and, admittedly, interested. Things escalated and we were overheard. Shell covered for me. Made up some pretty good explanations.”

Funny how he’s almost able to laugh about it now. At Shell. At her gall. 

Focus. Keep it professional.

“So I tried to explain to the woman that it couldn’t continue at work and she convinced me to see her outside of the clinic. We started dating. But I had trouble concentrating. My coworkers didn’t completely buy the cover story that Shell gave them and that was causing stress for everyone. Then things got worse, couldn’t stop myself from picturing what other clients might be like in the same situation. And the distraction went deeper than that…I’ll leave it there. But. I wasn’t being honest with them, I wasn’t fulfilling the promise I made to my clients. I couldn’t let that continue.”

Then he gets to the part that used to be hard for him to admit but that he’s come to embrace and accept now; it’s easy to tell you so warm beside him in bed, so open and attentive. So still. He’s come to like being still with you.

“Shell helped me realize I might need some therapy. That’s when I learned about my addiction and started working to control it.

“Well, once my girlfriend found out about that, she became increasingly suspicious and jealous and I wanted to make her happy, so I quit the clinic. It was okay for a while. But the therapy wasn’t helping me. And we took a step back from the relationship. At least that’s how I understood it.”

She….didn’t. 

Anyway.

“This thing I do now? Shell’s idea, as I’ve said. It was around then she helped me get started. And it was like finding my calling. I was helping others, I was helping myself. Everything fit. Everything except…her.”

Shit. Now what. A pang of guilt rips through him. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He can feel himself wanting to backpedal. How to wrap this up without exhibiting anything too deeply vulnerable–

–but then, your face, so rapt and comforting, so much care–

“She found out. And it wasn’t good. I don’t think…”

--that it spills forth easier than he could have expected, never having said it out loud to anyone until this moment–

”I don’t think I’ve ever hurt someone like that before.”

Fuck.

That was…

Liberating.

But the look in your eyes is…concerned? Troubled? Unsure. He’s here to reassure you.

“And I don’t plan on doing it again. This is where my balance is. I’m honest to my clients about what I do.I just want people to leave here feeling better than when they arrived. I’m here for my clients. For you.”

“I see,” you respond, softly, quietly, a trusted voice beside him in bed. “And do you ever…regret that decision?”

He can’t help it. He leans forward and presses a light, lingering kiss to your lips. “Not at all.”

When you cling to his face and pull him deeper into the kiss he relaxes.

Truly relaxes.

Finally.

He’s made the lines clearer for you now. Put you at ease. And you know he will adhere to any boundaries you set. And you’ll continue to come to sessions.

And he won’t lose you.

He won’t lose you.

This is how he gets what he needs and keeps you feeling safe.

This is how he keeps you….

…as much as he can.

____

____

NEXT

SERIES MASTERLIST

[venusandsaturnsrings]

I was thinking abt incel childe all DAY while waitressing at work and kept dropping things and moved at a snails pace when I thought too hard,,,, and all my silly lil brain could muster up was "childe wouldn't let me work for other people like this, I'm too fucking cute for this"

So then it made me think of like what'd he'd do if he was reader's boss or if he ever visited her at work. Like him noticing her mess up every now and then and thinking how he'd train her to be a better housewife for him

IDK IF ANY OF THIS MADE SENSE BUT LIKE MY BRAIN HAS BEEN SO HEAD EMPTY EXCEPT FOR INCEL CHILDE

ALL OF THIS MAKES SENSE!! if im being totally honest a solid 20% of my posts have been made while im at work... ill write down a couple sentences once in a while and i'll be done far faster that i should be LMAO which is so funny bc im one of the best workers in my division and yet i write incel childe fanfic when im on shift... ANYWAYS you get two small bits for each of these scenarios, congratulations!! no explicit content, just incel childe being himself <33

if he was your boss, you know damn well he was just keeping you around as something pretty to look at. the quality of your work doesn't matter when he's fisting his cock in his office half-hoping you'll walk through the door. he also only had basic requirements for work attire prior to hiring you. promptly, this down bad fellow, he designed and had made custom uniforms for all the staff. it was a rather high-end restaurant so he certainly couldn't expose as much of you as he'd like but, he made due. did he purposefully have your skirt made shorter and your top cut lower than the rest? yes, but you wouldn't dare point it out to your boss. if he didn't see it as a problem then neither should you. he also tended to hover around more while you worked. if anyone ever gave you trouble or behaved slightly inappropriately he would personally deal with them. you thought he was just a nice guy until the rest of the female waitstaff started complaining about how he never did that for him. they were envious and you could feel it.

it came to a head at one point when a girl made a rather pointed comment about how you were probably hooking up with him. the tears came rather quickly and you headed to his office to have him stop helping you, dispel the thoughts of the others, or just quit. you could find work elsewhere if needed. when you entered the room with watery eyes and a soft tremble to your words it took everything in him not to go and break the nose of the girl who said such horrible things to you. instead, he placed one hand on your shoulder and grabbed your own with the other.

"you shouldn't have to deal with this, sweetness. though it is true that i've had my eye on you... how 'bout you quit and let me take care of you for real, hm? i'll treat 'ya extra good, promise." <3

if he worked elsewhere and decided to stop in every once in a while to have you serve him, it'd be a bit different. he doesn’t have to hold back on any impulses to save face or keep raking in money.

his stops weren’t frequent. Ajax loved being able to surprise you so he’d make sure not to warn you beforehand. he’d ask for a table in your section and wait until you came by. he wasn’t all that hard to miss considering the bright ginger hair and such. but, it always brightened your day to see him. on this particular day, nothing seemed to go right for you. you’d keep missing important notes on orders, spill drinks, and otherwise mess up what should’ve been easy tasks. it was frustrating to say the least and Ajax got a front row seat to every second. he’d placed his head on one hand and drummed softly against the table with the fingers of the other. it was amusing to him but upsetting to you. he always did find pleasure in your suffering. when you finally got to him, he held a look you saw too often on his face; a knowing and pitiful smile.

“havin’ a hard time, girlie?” his voice came out softer than you had expected. usually, he’d pop out a couple teasing remarks before showing his concern. he was skipping the middle man for once. “it’s hard being such a cute girl, huh? and it’s hard having real tasks to do when you should be at home takin’ care of me and our place.” he pretended to think deeply for a few seconds. “say, what do ‘ya think about quitting finally? you shouldn’t be out here working for obvious reasons. i know you wanna so just do it.”

“be my little housewife for real, okay?” <3

[yangrdn]

cough cough

pairing: peter parker x gn!reader, non-superhero AU

a/n: this is my entry for @worldoftom's lolbrosgetsicktoo challenge! i loved writing sick!peter, it was v v cute. also, whilst writing this i'm sick, also a cold and my throat hurt until three days a go for three weeks straight. writing this was basically me wanting to have a peter to look after me, so i put him in my position. feedback is really appreciated and i hope you enjoy reading this <3

ps: i put the prompt at the end bc i assumed it'd spoil a little of the story if i put it at the start. so if you want to know the prompt first, just scroll down.

summary: peter gets a sore throat.

w/c: 3.8k

warnings: mentions of vomiting, description of taking painkillers, sick and whiny peter

my m.list

request | my taglist

there are a lot of things peter’s good at. he nails every test that is thrown at him. if you asked him a question about physics, he’d give you the right answer right away. basically, peter’s smart. like, really smart. now, there’s always that one thing he is not smart enough for and needs your help for.

taking care of his body.

with that, he could get all the help possible, and would still fail. may already tried her best, telling him to zip his jacket when going out and it’s raining. or you’d tell him how he should’ve stayed at home instead of riding his bike to your apartment right after taking a shower. he had worn only a shirt and a pair of jeans, saying it was hot and that the sun was out.

you, on the other hand, were just pissed your boyfriend had risked getting sick again, because you know you’ll have to take care of him. not because may told you to, nope. peter just didn't let anyone come near him when sick, besides you. although it does make you question whether he does it because he wants you close, even when he feels like melting because of his fever, or that he wants you to get sick, too.

and now, here you are. walking to peter’s flat after may called you and informed you about your “over dramatic” boyfriend. he was asking for you the whole day, and wouldn't let her sit down for even a minute, she said to you on the phone after you agreed to come over. you feel bad for her. She was up everyday, working her ass off, only to come home to Peter complaining about his pain. Taking care of him so she could at least get a day off from a whining Peter was the least you can do right now.

You knock on the door twice and start taking off your shoes. It wasn’t raining, but you don’t want to enter the flat with dirty shoes and leave more work when you leave. May opens the door, a tired smile across her face and a relieved sigh leaving her lips when she notices it’s you standing there.

“Hi, May,” you smile at her and give her a side hug, already peeking behind her and seeing two empty boxes of tissues. You frown and pull back as you enter the room.

“He won’t shut up about his throat. His voice is nearly gone, so he won’t be able to talk that much,” she informs you and closes the door behind you as you make your way to Peter’s room. You nod and turn around.

“It’s okay, I’ll make sure he gets enough sleep anyways,” you tell her. May silently thanks you with two thumbs up as she walks slowly to her room, closing the door quietly.

You knock on Peter’s door softly, not wanting to barg in if he’s doing something or wake him up. When you get no response, you open the door and step in. The room is dark, the only light coming in from the sun shines shining through the blinds. On Peter’s desk, books are piled up and you assume those are all for his missing assignments. A pout forms on your lips as you realize he’ll need to do all his missing work for school once he feels better. You make a mental note to help him as you roll up the blinds, only enough to illuminate the room more. When your eyes cast on the brown haired boy laid on the bed, the pout is quickly replaced by a soft smile.

Peter’s laying on his bed, blanket draped over his body and only covering his hips and left leg, soft snores leaving his lips. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, his chest glistening with sweat. Your eyes widen as you walk closer to him, placing your palm on his forehead. A quiet gasp leaves your lips once you feel how hot his forehead is. He stirs awake slowly, only moving his head away from your palm and whining. You try to stifle a laugh and make the thin blue blanket cover at least half his body. His eyes open, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the new light.

“Ugh,” he groans and hides his face behind his hands. Peter’s head is spinning, his eyes only adding more pain when he opens them. You sit on the bed, making sure not to touch him and hand him the glass of water on his nightstand. After revealing his face, he sits up slowly and takes the glass. Drowning it in slow and painful gulps, Peter lets out a hiss after setting the glass back down on the nightstand.

Now that he’s fully awake, you take a second to examine his sick state. His cheeks are rosy, you can basically see that the poor boy is burning up. His head is leaned back against the cool wall and his eyes squeezed shut due to his headache.

“I’m in so fucking much pain,” he whines and opens one eye, squinting and looking at you. You sigh, taking note of the crack in his voice. May wasn’t lying when she said he had a hard time talking.

“May told me. Did you eat today?” He frowns and shuts his eyes again.

“No, I- I-,” he stops talking and coughs, hissing as he feels more pain in his throat. You take the water bottle next to him and quickly fill up the glass again, handing it to him. After another painful gulp, he continues.

“May made me soup, but I didn’t finish it,” he croaks out. You purse your lips and nod.

“You lay back down. I’ll get you some painkillers, make you tea and then come back here, ok?” He nods and opens his mouth.

“Ah, ah ah, no talking for you. I see the pain you’re in right now. I’d tell you I told you so when you came over, wet and only with a t-shirt, but then you’d start arguing.” With that, you leave his room and make sure to leave the door open behind you, enough to hear Peter in case he calls for you. You make your way to the open kitchen and take out the water heater, a bag of camomile tea from the cabinet and let the water boil. While it’s boiling, you search through the other cabinets for painkillers, until you find a packet of Ibuprofen. After checking and making sure it’s not past its expiration date and that Peter’s old enough to take it, you place it on the counter and take out a teacup, throwing the tea bag in and waiting for the water to end. After a minute, you slowly fill the cup, careful not to burn yourself. You take the painkillers, turn around and walk back to Peter, balancing the full tea cup in your left hand as you softly blow in it. It should be hot, but not too hot for Peter to burn himself when drinking.

You shove the door open with your foot and step in, placing the cup on Peter’s nightstand. He was already waiting for you, glass filled with water in hand and eyes narrowed at the door.

“Take these,” you whisper, handing him the painkillers and sitting on the side of his bed, only close enough for your thigh to be touching his hip. He plops a pill in his mouth, gulping it down and shaking his head.

“I can’t even swallow pills,” he groans. You lift your hand up, caressing the side of his face with your palm. A content sigh leaves his lips as you let your thumb gently caress his cheekbone. Pecking his lips softly, you ask.

“Do you want to sleep? I can close the blinds again and-” He shakes his head and takes your hand in his. “Can we watch a movie?” He whispers. You nod and help him move to the side on his bed. He takes the blanket with him, lifting it up and patting the empty side next to him.

You shake your head. “You’ll lay on me. I don’t want to put my whole body on you.”

“What,” A soft laugh escapes your lips. “I’m always the one laying on you. Let me take care of you,” Peter’s about to complain, but you’re already comfortably on the bed and patting your lap.

“Next time you-” You shush him, pulling the blanket over the two of you and grab the laptop sitting on his nightstand. He chooses a movie and places the laptop in front of you two.

“You’re lucky we have no school tomorrow. Else you’d be drowning in work,” you whisper into his hair. He sighs and glances at the pile of sheets and books on his desk.

“Already happening.” You giggle at his statement and turn your eyes back to the movie playing.

Midst watching the movie, Peter fell asleep on your lap and started snoring. A small smile displays on your face, watching your boyfriend lay comfortably with you and feel safe. You start running your hand through his hair as he stirs in his sleep, face squished against your stomach.

When he wakes up, he starts groaning and raising his head to look at you. You grin at him and peck his lips.

“Sleep good?” He shakes his head and lets it fall back on your stomach, nuzzling his nose against the fabric covering it and letting out a content sigh.

“I’m still in pain, but I guess it’ll get better later,” he says, his voice muffled. You nod and purse your lips, thinking.

“Wait, Peter.” He frowns at your worried tone and looks up at you again.

“Didn’t we buy those tickets for the concert tomorrow?” You nod to his desk. His head turns to the side you’re looking at, eyes widening and staring back at you.

“Shit, you’re right. Fuck I’m-” he starts and lowers his gaze to your lap,” I’m sorry we can’t go to the concert tomorrow because of me. I know how much you like-” You quickly shut him up by cupping his face in your hands, pouting and shaking your head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, babe. You’re sick and I want to take care of you. We can repeat this another time,” you say gently, staring into his eyes as the frown on his face deepens.

“But you always said how excited you were for this” he protests.

“I am, yeah, but I’d rather stay at home with you than going there alone and letting my boyfriend here. Or worse, dragging you with me,” you tell him. You see the corners of his lips pick up and feel your own eyes lit up as he tries to hide his smile.

“You don’t want me to go!” A dramatic gasp leaves your mouth and you throw your head back.

“What- no! I just- I like it when…” he trails off and leaves you silent. You stare back at him, raising a brow and waiting for his answer. “I said that I just want to spend time with you and I’m kind of happy you’re staying here,” he whispers.

You grin and pull his face closer to yours, noses almost touching.

“You’re so in love with me,” He rolls his eyes and pushes you back, not before kissing the palm of your hand. “Yeah yeah I am. Am I not allowed to?”

You smirk and drape your arm over him as he shuffles closer to you.

~

A week later, Peter’s still sick. Or at least, that’s what aunt May told you. He didn’t leave his bed for hours and you slowly started to worry whether to take him to the doctors or not. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes from hours of studying and doing assignments that were already due last week. Why would he stay up at night, if he was sick? It’s what made you think whether he’s really faking it. He wouldn’t fake being sick and stay up the whole night, right?

“Y/N, did Peter tell you when he’ll come back?” Your head snaps up to the teacher talking to you, frowning and shaking your head.

“He didn’t. He’s been really sick for a little more than a week now, I don’t think he’ll come back this week yet.” The teacher nods and carries on with the class, taking a pen and starting to write something into a brown book.

You feel a light tap on your shoulder and turn around, being greeted with Ned’s worried expression.

“You sure he’s alright? He didn’t text me either,” he checks.

“He did throw up like three times last week,” you trail off, thinking about how your boyfriend called you three times from Tuesday to Wednesday, telling you he threw up and asking if you could come over.

“I’ll go to his later anyways, should I tell him to talk to you?” Ned only nods, lowering his eyes back to the paper in front of him and starting to write down his answers quickly.

~

You knock on Peter’s door after May let you in. She was in a hurry, talking about having a job interview in twenty minutes and being late as she left you in the living room, closing the door to the bathroom behind her.

There’s a faint “yeah” when you open the door, looking through the crack into his room and staring at the figure hunched up under blankets. Your eyes soften as you step into the room, closing the door silently. The blinds are up, different from the other day. His room also looks cleaner. He must’ve cleaned up the pile of clothes that was there last week and tidied his desk. You frown as you look at his bed. Yesterday he told you his head hurt too much and that he felt dizzy when standing up. Must’ve been May, probably, you shrug and walk closer to his bed, sitting down at the end of it.

“Hey,” His voice startles you. There isn’t a crack in it anymore and his eyes don’t squint as much at the bright lighting in his room as they did the last time you were here. You hum and lean back on your arms.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Pretty good.” He peaks up from under the blanket, smiling at you. His eyes widen when he realizes what he just said and starts coughing. You frown and sit up straight, arm stretched out ready to grab the glass of water next to him.

“Uh, compared to last week. Yes, pretty good compared to last week,” he adds quickly and hides back under the blanket. You giggle and shuffle closer to his form, running your hand through his locks under the blanket and earning a sigh from him. He likes it when you touch him, whether it’s hugging, running your hand through his hair, or when you’d cling into his biceps as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly. There is always physical touch between the two of you.

“Do you want to drink something? I’ll go make you another tea,” you propose and stand up, leaving his bed. He nods and smiles at you. You leave the room and walk into the kitchen. This time, you close the door to his room completely. He’s feeling much better than last week, but also acting suspicious. Peter wouldn’t skip school and act sick. It 's not like him. Like, at all. Right?

The door to his room is closed, so the first thing Peter decides to do when you leave is jump out the bed and walk to his desk, taking his phone and getting back into his comfortable bed. He makes sure you can't hear any frantic steps or movements.

After you left Peter's room the first night he asked you to stay, he started to like the attention you were giving him. It's not that you don't pay attention to your boyfriend. In fact, Peter may be in the center of your attention and you his. You two make sure to show each other the love you feel and that you care.

It's just that with your busy schedules and upcoming exams, spending time together wasn't your top priority anymore. He misses the days when you'd go to Delmar's with him after school, instead of instantly leaving because of an essay that was due that same week. So he decided to do what he does, in his opinion, best. Lie. Act sick.

He did feel bad when he first started coughing every time May was around and she worried for him, but at some point he realized staying at home a little longer wasn’t that bad and he could use some time away from school. Although he could’ve just told May he was in pressure and wanted to stay home for a couple of days, he’d rather use this option.

Peter suits himself in his bed and turns on the phone, already flooded by texts from Mj and Ned telling him the homework they got for today and texts from Ned asking where he was at, and why he stays home for this long. He stifles a laugh at the memes Ned sent into the group chat and glances to the door at the muffled steps he heard. When he’s sure there isn’t anyone close to his room, he returns his eyes to the screen of his phone.

You’re on the other side of the door, side of your face pressed against the door and holding in your breath to not get noticed. You heard a laugh when you were in the kitchen. You left Peter laying in his bed, he was too dizzy to get up and grab his phone. You raise a brow and lean closer to the door, daring to press down the doorknob and silently stepping in, halting in the open doorway with your hand on your hip and an expectant expression.

Peter is sitting up on his bed, covers long forgotten on the end of it and phone in hand. He’s laughing at something playing on his screen, not noticing you standing in the room yet. You click your tongue, pursing your lips and waiting for your presence to be noticed. When your boyfriend throws his head back, letting out another loud laugh, you decide to let him know you’re there.

“oh, ok. so i see you’re better?” you quirk a brow, smirking. his eyes widen and his head snaps to you, watching you through plate-wide eyes. he sucks in a breath and puts his lip in a thin line.

“uhm, you’re back?” he croaks out. a nervous giggle leaves his lips and he shrugs with a smile plastered on his face, biting his bottom lip. “i- i feel better,” you roll your eyes and place the cup of tea on his desk, making him frown.

“you didn’t really think i’d place it next to you? i see you’re better, go get it yourself.” he opens his mouth, only to shut it again. it was true, he looks and feels much better than last week. and peter knows he’s back to his healthy state, he just kept it from you. which is why he’s shocked at first, then frowns and groans.

“come on! yes i feel better, but can you give me the cup?” he asks. you shake your head, balancing your weight on one leg, jutting your hip out. oh, peter knows that look on your face. you’re not happy. not utterly disappointed, but you don’t seem the happiest either.

“no way you made me and may care for you for a whole week straight, when you didn’t feel sick!” you throw your hands up in the air, letting out an annoyed huff. he whines at you in a clearly irritated state and juts out his lip, trying to look as sad as possible.

“no, don’t pull that face on me. i’m pissed off,” you mutter as you walk to him, sitting down on his bed with your back to his figure. “please? i’m sorry i lied,” he starts. you frown, turning around.

“why did you, in the first place. you now have much more work to do. oh, and have fun explaining may why you lied about being sick. she stayed up with you at night, hell, i went to sleep at three for you! peter, we had school at seven!” you cry out.

the boy on the bed with you just shrugs, not exactly knowing what to say next.

“i guess i liked the attention i got.” you huff and take a glance at him. when he stays serious, you turn your whole body to him. “you liked the attention i gave you?” you ask in disbelief. he slowly nods.

“do i not give you attention?” you worry. he quickly shakes his head, arms out to reach for your hands. “no! you do, it’s just, with school and everything,...” he trails off. you nod and squeeze his hand, demanding for him to look up at your face.

“i know we don’t spend as much time together as we used to, anymore. but peter, you know i’m in so much pressure because of school! besides, don’t you have to focus on school, too? and may also told you you should look for an internship because you didn’t get one last year,” you reason. he lets go off your hand, clearly not amused.

“i told her i don’t want one. what will it do?” “uh, look good on your college applications?” you say, as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. he chuckles.

“besides that. i’ll find one, i just want to spend time with you for now,” he says softly as he scoots closer to your warm body. you put your arms around him, laying your head on his placed on your chest.

“i do too, pete. but i promise that in,” you stop and cran your neck to look behind you at the calender he’s got hung on the wall, “in five weeks we’ll be able to cuddle and watch movies like we did before again. now, we need to focus on school and you on your missed assignments,” you sigh. you feel him tense under you.

“what?! five weeks!” you smirk against his hair and squeeze him tighter.

“i was joking! two actually. but, until then, you’re stuck with me anyway studying so it won’t be that big of a problem if i stay away from you for one day,” you laugh and kiss his temple. he nuzzles into your chest, inhaling in your sent and sighing. “as long as we spend that time together, i don’t care how long it is until we finish all exams,” he whispers against you.

Prompt: Non-Superhero AU. Peter gets a sore throat! Which is very ill-timed, because him and the reader had plans to go to a concert, but they ditched in favor of the reader taking care of Peter. Days pass by and Peter is still "sick". Spoiler, he's just faking it at this point because he's enjoying the extra attention he's getting from his partner.

taglists

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@bi-lmg @aayaissaa @fandomxreaders

peter parker

@samscaptain @emistrash @hermayone

[just-my-type-x]

Can u do a imagine where Brad is a vampire?

A/N: ok so, ur requests and the way u choose to build up the story u want come first, especially if u request Headcanon or imagine. But there are some topics i can't really put into imagines because there is a high chance that i write a lot and work hard on the story, yet it's not appreciated enough. I don't really care about likes, bc i prefer to make my readers happy, but in the same time i wish for a certain feedbacks through the likes, bc they keep me going and they give me courage.

Also, i know my blog isn't the best for Brad imagines (I'm very glad and happy that u guys spend ur time checking on my blog and posts), but i appreciate seeing some results on the things that i spend a lot of time working on. So i hope it is ok that when i encounter "unusual" topics or other topics that aren't usually very interacted with, u'll be ok with me changing it into a Headcanon. It helps me a lot and i think it's easier for the readers to follow the story

I don't want to offend anyone, but i think it is helpful for both parts, as u guys receive content more often and i can get through the requests faster that way♥️

Vampire 🦇

Brad would start off by being ur best friend

U guys met in junior year in high school, he said he moved from another city with his parents

He's very strange at first, u would notice his weird behaviour, like being overly angry and aggressive

Brad would be on the soccer team

He'd be so powerful he would break the net when scoring

Everyone would see that but wouldn't say anything

Very good at aiming

He'd hear u talking from across the hallway with ur friend, u'd become very weirded out by the fact that he would talk to u about the same thing as u were talking to ur friend about

"I really wish i went for a coffee now, rather than going to economics"

He would show up in front of u "Hey, y/n, i feel like going for a coffee or a tea, wanna join me?"

U'd raise ur eyebrow to ur friend but she would tell u to go

U two spend a lot of time talking over the coffee table, but start noticing, again, some weird things at him

Brad would be very anxious all of a sudden, he'd sweat a lot on his forehead, he'd look a lot at the vein on ur neck

At first u think he's into u, like wishing for something else, but he sprints out of the coffee shop. U run after him, but he's nowhere to be found

The next day he's by the soccer field amd u see him running really fast. U watch him from afar, as he starts lifting some pretty heavy objects, which is unusual for a guy his age

One late night u were going home from ur friends house and u could swear u're followed by someone

U get attacked by a robber who wants to steal ur backpack, but Brad appears from nowhere and beats him up

"Tell me right now what is up with u. Why did u leave me at the coffee table?"

"If i would tell u, u wouldn't believe me"

He shows u anyways, but instead of being terrified, u get excited by the idea and accept to help him anytime he needs help

Months go by and u start falling for Brad. Somehow u think Brad is falling for u too, but u don't know if it's just the vampire flirty side or if it's really him

You invite him over when your parents are out of town, he makes a lot of dirty jokes about this invitation

"You know i can be quiet even of ur parents are at home, right. It depends on you how quiet you can keep"

You'd blush like crazy

"Brad, stop it"

"What? I know you have plans with me tonight", he'd say while cupping your face, but you'd push him away playfully

At home, you watch some movies, vampire relatate of course, cuz you always mock him about that

"What if you bite me?", you ask while taking a sip of your drink

Brad would immediately decline. "It's not as heavenly as you think it is"

"It would be if i would be with you", you look him in the eyes and they twinkle

He leans forward and starts kissing you, dragging your body closer and lifting you up on his lap with ease, grabbing your ass, while his tongue meets yours in a hungry battle of domination

"You really have experience with kissing", you say breathlessly, kissing his neck with sloppy kisses

"Yet you're the best", he'd grab your chin so you would kiss him again

"Do it", you stare at him and don't put any expression on your face, which makes ot harder for Brad to really understand what you want

"Your heart beats like thunder", he'd notice and you realise your pulse is higher. Brad gets uncomfortable and pushes you off him and gets up from the couch

"What are you doing?"

"Getting far away from you. I can't do this to you"

"But i want you to", you'd scream at him and he'd turn around, making the distance between you two to disappear in three big steps

Brad would grab you by the waist and sit you on the back of the sofa, grabbing your neck next

You hold in a breath as his fingertips run over your vein

He has his hands around the back of your neck, studying your face closely, your eyes feeling watery because of the anticipation

Brad would kiss you softly on your lips, then jaw, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. With each kiss, you could feel the wetness caused by craving. His fangs scratch slightly the surface of your exposed neck and you inhale sharply, waiting for the outcome

Instead, he bites you playfully, sucking on a sweet spot

"If this is how you turn me into a vampire, please give me more", you almost moan and push his head deeper into the crook of your neck

"I will, baby", he says as he starts kissing and biting the other side of the neck. "I am eager to feast on something else than your blood tonight", he smirks when you gasp and takes you upstairs to the bedroom

I hope you enjoyed it ♥️

[yuichi-ro]

Alright mama while you drink your coffee this morning... what ever you do, don't think about...

...Baji and Tora searching for you in bed coming to realize that you're already out of it. First its Baji to get up bc well he wants to be with Mommy. So get up and almost sleep walk to find you. Soon nuzzling up against you. With his face in your neck and his hand on your thigh. Only resulting in him nuzzling his head down to your chest and him wanting skin to skin to be completely relaxed.

Once you get Baji settled Tora comes out and sees the two of you. He makes his way on the other side of you and sits down. Kissing your cheek softly saying he couldnt sleep without you in bed. His own hand running thru Baji's hair and admiring the sight of you two.

Just for Hanma to be the last one out. Coming up behind you on the couch and leaning down to kiss the top of your head. A soft chuckle leaves his lips and he asks how you slept last night while his fingertips glide along your shoulders and neck. Theres nothing more that Hanma loves than seeing all of you together.

Even if you think you're going to get a quiet morning to drink your coffee...it'll be quiet just with some extra company.

- ♡

highkey cackling at the fact that I've just acquired all of Valhalla. Fuck the rest of the storyline, things stop at Valhalla. Mikey/Kisaki/Takemichi can continue their weird circle jerk for each other I'm taking my husbands and we're going home 😂😤 but now it's got me thinking about morning routines in a cramped household...

I'm normally the first one to get up (on weekends) because lets face it, I don't really sleep anyways. Get my coffee, get the tv remote get my phone, ready for a quiet morning to myself while the three worker bees sleep. Lets face it my mornings on the weekdays are nice and peaceful because they're all working. I don't know why I think that extends to the weekend. Foolish me.

Baji has a sixth sense about me not being in bed. For someone who sleeps like an immovable boulder, this man will uproot himself from whatever limb and blanket mess he's pinned under the second I get settled on the couch. He's not really awake though. More like a big puffy zombie who didn't sleep with his hair up like I told him too so he looks like cousin it stuck their finger in a wall socket. Not a coffee drinker and when he does make it for himself it's basically sweet coffee flavored milk. Rather drink nothing honestly, Baji just plops himself down on the couch with a thud and leans into me. He's not really awake but he's not going to go back to bed either if I'm not in there. Settles for pinning me down on the couch while he falls back asleep and I drink my coffee.

Kazutora is probably the second lightest sleeper to me. He was stirring when I got out of bed. But Baji's throwing the covers off exit of the bed to follow me made sure he can't go back to sleep even if Hanma is still sleeping. He'll grab a cup of coffee though. Takes him a little while to get into the living room with us but eventually he makes it. Probably some weird seasonal flavor of creamer in his coffee that he picked up at the store. No one drinks it but him so it lasts longer than it should. (thank god for oil based creamers) Kazutora will tuck himself on the couch opposite of Baji. He actually wants to drink his coffee so he settles for a hand on my thigh or a good morning kiss before zoning out on the tv or his phone.

Hanma is the last to get out of bed and I blame his confidence and security in our relationship along with the fact he's the second boulder that sleeps in the god damn bed. He sprawls out in bed alone, scrolls thru his phone, scratches his ass, takes his leisure time to get out of bed before joining the rest. He'll have coffee but at this point Kazutora probably mindlessly turned off the warmer after his cup so it's lukewarm at best. Hanma doesn't mind as he slathers almost as much creamer into as Baji does. (teases Baji about drinking sugar coffee but honestly is no slouch himself) Doesn't root his way onto the couch for the most part. Gets his good morning kiss then curls up on the opposing piece of furniture like it's his thrown he doesn't have to share. If he's feeling particularly needy though there's a nasty old bean bag that violates like several health codes that he kicks awkwardly to the foot of the couch and plops himself there. So he can lean back and invade not only my space but Baji's and Kazutora's too. Pin head bastard leaned back with his head in my lap and batting those pretty eyes at me asking for a kiss.

at this point my coffee is probably cold. I could chug it in fact. And this entire escapade has happened in less than thirty minutes. This is why all three of them have jobs. To leave me the fuck alone 🙃

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[llendrinall]

Hello, Endrina, I hope you are well!

I was recently introduced to a new ship: Snarry. Never though I could like it, but the fics I read were very well written, so I can see potential now.

What are your thoughts on this ship (if you have any), would you ever write Snarry?

Actually, I'm asking this bc I miss your Snape. So maybe, the question is more, can we have more Snape?

Sending love and inspiration, tai <3

Hello, Tea.

I’m well. Busier than I would like, so I don’t have the focus I need to write long-form, but I’m doing very well. I even got my vaccine!

So, Snarry. It’s not a pairing I see myself writing. It has too many issues and some of my biggest squicks, like teacher/student relationships (god, no) and age difference. The age difference I can get past, because it’s so prevalent that I’m inured to it. I think most, if not all, of Jane Austen’s heroines have +-10 years difference, for example, so one learns not to pay attention. Still, it’s not a pairing that calls to me.

That said, while I won’t write it and it’s not my first reading choice, I have read it occasionally and I agree that the fics were quite good. They managed to make a difficult and very unlikely couple believable, so kudos to the authors. I just hope none of them pursue a career in politics or public relations.

You ask about Snape. The thing about him (and most of HP characters) is that there is an incoherent element to them.

Snape stands on the edge between hero and villain, between human and monster. Snape is a survivor of childhood abuse and teenager bullying, the poor dear. Snape became a supremacist and joined a terrorist group, the bastard. Snape is a horrible, horrible, teacher. Snape is the only remotely competent actor in the Order of Phoenix.

I actually think this is the reason why the HP fandom is so popular, after so many years, and still produces so many fics. Almost all characters have this tension (I’m actually struggling to think of a character without internal strain. Fleur, maybe?), this internal conflict as two things that cannot be exist in the same person. A character cannot stand that internal contradiction for long, and yet it is never resolved in the books. Was Dumbledore well meaning, if inefficient? Or was he a manipulative bastard?

Because the characters are left in that state of incoherence, we write fic and meta to resolve that tension. To do that, we have to choose some aspects and bury or hand wave others because they simply can’t cohabit. This means that when people say Snape was a creepy bastard who doesn’t deserve our good opinion, they are right. It also means that when I choose to see him a kinder light, as a flawed man who is denied the chance to heal from his trauma, I am also right.

My Snape.

What I like best about him is that he is a very efficient and unapologetic jerk. Even in the most positive portrayals (like The Secret Language of Plants) Snape is the personification of drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. He doesn’t play well with others.

Because he is very efficient, there is the danger of going the Sherlock route (or House route, or… you know, any other show) in which his genius is used to justify him being a cruel prick (sidenote: I want more Sherlock fics in which John gently points out that when Sherlock does X thing or says Y he is hurting people’s feelings, and Sherlock adapting his behaviour in hilariously wrong but well-meaning ways). I prefer to use Snape’s cantankerous attitude to bring up conflict and humour. Snape is the man who will stab Lockhart to shut him up. He is also the friend you hex in an attempt to re-educate him into being a tolerable member of society.

What else? I see Snape as a gay man. The foggy ficlet I’m writing right now might be the first time where I am unsure, he may be bisexual there. Mostly, I prefer if his relationship to Lily is one of friendship. I actually think it’s nicer, and speaks better of him, if his heel-face turn is born out of friendship rather than a desire to save the life of the girl who got away. It’s still love, just not sexual or romantic love.

Some other thoughts about him.

- He is a bad teacher. Not that there are good teachers, since no one goes through teacher training, but he is bad and doesn’t like the job.

- He is a brilliant researcher and experimenter. He would be much happier in a university-setting where you can get away with not seeing students and at least the ones you are forced to see will be slightly interested in the subject.

- Canon Snape went through a lot of trauma and wasn’t allowed to heal. Instead he was picked up by Voldemort and Dumbledore to be used as they wished. If he had gotten away, even if he didn’t go to therapy, just time and distance would have done wonders.

- Despite his acerbic personality, Snape is very good at managing teams. We know that all the other Hogwarts’ houses gang up against Slytherin, and yet until Harry arrived, Slytherin had won the House Cup six times in a row. Six times. This can’t be attributed to Snape giving a disproportionate amount of points to his students, because he only has so many occasions to do so and in any case it would only work one time before the rest of the teachers started to give points by the hundreds. Either the Slytherin students were so good that other teachers, despite their animosity, were forced to recognize their talent; or Snape provoked the other houses to fight between them and grabbed the cup from under them. Either way, Snape is wasted in that school.

- No, really, who gets a bunch of teenagers and turns them into such a well oiled machine?

I want him to fake his death and go live in the French-Speaking side of Canada and finally get a chance to figure out who he is. And when Percy Weasley inevitably stumbles across him, they will simply nod at each other, share a look of “I’m so tired of their bullshit” and carry on without a word.