#i think my favorites are the first and last one

[paucubarsisimp]

attention

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: in which lando and your son are fighting for your attention

warnings: two very clingy babies

a/n: first f1 fanfic! lmk what you guys think!

the house is eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the tv in the background. you’re curled up on the couch, flicking through a magazine, legs tucked beneath you. it’s one of those rare moments when everything feels calm—well, that’s about to change. because in this house, peace never lasts long.

theo, your five-year-old, suddenly bursts into the room, his little footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. he’s clutching a set of plastic blocks, face bright with excitement. “mummy, look! i built the biggest tower!” he exclaims, holding them up in front of you like a trophy, his wide eyes pleading for your praise.

you glance up and smile, your heart melting just a little at his enthusiasm. “wow, theo! that’s amazing! you worked so hard on it.”

just as you’re about to reach for the blocks to take a closer look, lando strolls in, hair still damp from his shower, a towel around his neck. he scans the room and spots you on the couch. his eyes gleam mischievously, and before you know it, he’s leaning toward you. “hey, that’s my spot,” he says, playfully pointing at your lap.

theo freezes, glaring at lando as if he just dared to commit a great injustice. “no! mummy’s mine!” theo declares, squeezing tighter around your neck, like a tiny koala.

you laugh softly, amused at how ridiculous this whole situation is. “boys, please. there’s enough of me to go around, okay?”

lando pouts, but it’s clear he’s not giving up that easily. “but i was here first,” he says with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the couch beside you. he leans in closer, clearly making a point to get as close as possible. “i want some attention too.”

theo, sensing the challenge, crosses his arms over his chest. “no, you can’t have her,” he huffs, his little voice firm and adamant.

you try to keep your composure, but it’s hard when both of them are giving you that look—like they’re both fighting for the same thing. your attention. “lando, theo, seriously. you both need to share. i love you both, no need to fight.”

but theo’s not backing down. “mummy, look at my tower! it’s way bigger than daddy’s race car!” he lifts the blocks again, practically shoving them in your face.

lando grins, his eyes narrowing with playful challenge. “oh, really? i think i’ve got a pretty awesome race car. much cooler than a tower.” he leans in, making sure you can hear his tone. “want to see it, babe?”

theo gasps in horror. “no! mummy! look at my tower!” he says, pushing lando’s arm away, as if he could physically block his dad from you. his tiny hands press against lando’s chest, trying to shove him back.

lando raises an eyebrow, impressed. “well, i guess he’s got a bit of me in him, huh?” he grins, nudging theo with his elbow.

theo shakes his head furiously, his little body tense as he pulls your arms tighter around himself. “no! mummy’s mine!” he says, his tone determined, though there’s an adorably stubborn edge to it.

you laugh, trying to calm the storm that’s brewing between your two favorite people. “boys,” you sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips, “can we all just get along?”

lando leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, fully aware that theo is watching. “well, i think i’m still winning,” he says, looking at you with a teasing grin.

theo, who had been trying to maintain his stance as the “only one worthy of mummy’s attention,” glares at his dad, then glances at you. “mummy, tell daddy he can’t sit here. i need you.”

you raise an eyebrow at theo’s bold declaration. “theo,” you start, chuckling, “i’m not telling daddy he can’t sit here. i love both of you. and you both need to share mummy’s attention.”

lando stretches out next to you with a dramatic groan, “but it’s so much more fun when i get all of it.” he nudges theo with his foot, a playful gleam in his eye.

theo crosses his arms, sticking his tongue out at his dad. “mummy’s my best friend,” he says defiantly.

“oh really?” lando smirks, raising an eyebrow. “well, i’m pretty sure i’m her best friend too.”

the battle rages on. and despite the chaos, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. because in the end, you have the best of both worlds—two amazing boys who will never stop fighting for your attention, and your heart full of love for them both.

[fireladyofink]

Oh God.. uuhhhh.. been a minute since I tried one of these..

Skipping 1, hate first person, just can't do it, not even read it.

2 is 100% Andlàtkyn. There's some issues here and there but it will always be my pride and joy.

Due to not posting on AO3 (even though I really should be), 3 is mostly ineffective. Except Wattpad has tags. I'd say UTAU, dragons and crossover.

4, lol. Literally. Lately I keep using that (only when texting others) and it's bothering me. I feel like a simpleton because of how much I'm saying that, eugh.

5 I've honestly learned a lot while researching fics. For one, I found out lantana berries are toxic to humans yet taste like blueberries, and I have them growing in my backyard. They're actually my favorite plant! I love their flowers; so pretty, and they have such a uniquely funky smell as well. Part of why I adore them, it stands out so much without being a bad smell. And the leaves have a sort of citrus smell? I love lantanas.

6 I don't know. I've thought about requests due to the money, but I feel like I'd either struggle to start writing it or get carried away with it- or straight up not finish in a reasonable timeframe. Commissions? Like art commissions? Maybe in a few years when I'm more confident in my skills and also somehow have a drawing tablet to properly draw digitally. Something like that.

7 Either or. I love making sickeningly sweet coffee or various different teas.

8 Is honestly hard to decide! Off the top of my head I can think of Dust initially meeting Killer with the hilariously absurd question of "What do you mean you don't have a mouth? How are you speaking right now? Your ass?"

9 Believe it or not it was basically when I first got a phone and commented a short story in the comments of a YouTube video. Someone replied with a suggestion of Wattpad. The rest is history, lol.

10 Off the top of my head I can't think of anything beyond something very specific for the fic I've been thinking about again lately, Ninjagaësia. Only time I've written outside of the UT fandom too, I specifically want to get around to writing that version of Zane more. What I had planned for him is fun as hell. An absolute badass.

11 Lots of comments, votes and people enjoying it. Which, continuing the above mention, Ninjagaësia doesn't qualify for. Pretty unsuccessful, but for once I don't really care.

12 Undertale AU's. I doubt I'll ever leave, either.

13 No. Hell, my ultimate fic of Andlàtkyn was written throughout the later half of highschool. I am technically working on an original story on the sidelines, I call it my worldbuilding project because I'm building up so much lore in this world before I actually touch on the story itself outside of a vague idea. About 60-ish different species of people, including the were-diseases. Last I counted, anyway. I'll be working on it for years, I know it, and I don't mind that either.

14 Comments talking about my fics on said fics. Actual interactions! It brings me joy. 🧡

15 My family is well aware. I don't bring up a lot of details but the last time I went into vague detail with my mother it was over a scene in Andlàtkyn (no direct spoilers) and she interpreted it weirdly and now she teases me by asking if I'm killing babies again! A bit awkward..

16 Actually finishing a damn story. I don't mind the periods of no writing until I get inspired again, but what annoys me is when I can't seem to finish anything. Only ever finished Andlàtkyn. I still have yet to write anything for the sequel to it, either! Zeradelsída is still just a bunch of loose plot points..

17 I am semi successfully writing benevolent eldritch horror. It doesn't intend harm, but it is truly.. horrifying nonetheless. The uncertainty of someone knowing he died, feeling his own heart stop beating, and feeling something OTHER seep inside and force it to start again, pulsing in his veins, fusing with his anatomy, permanently altering both him and itself into something completely unknowable.. I'm rambling. Anyone who hasn't seen my Wattpad, read Awakened. If you don't mind ridiculously long fics, read Andlàtkyn too!

18 I have at least 7 I mostly expect to finish, with at least 4 others just kind of.. there. I don't think I've posted any of those, either. I also have ideas inspired by dreams that I'd love to write down someday, though don't really expect to actually codify.

19 I kind of just don't. I work on different projects as the inspiration hits, take a backseat for a month or so, then come back to either the same project or a different one.

20 Hmmm.. Hard to think of something specific. I'm leaning towards stuff in Andlàtkyn. I don't really have a favorite kiss scene because I don't do romance. I write adventure! Andlàtkyn has some side romance though- not that any of it is my favorite. Platonic stuff, though.. I'd say my favorite is honestly Lust and Alter incidentally befriending each other and becoming venting buddies. It's the cutest thing, their friendship is adorable and wholesome despite the background angst. I didn't write nearly as much of them as deserved.

21 Honestly it's mostly lack of inspiration that I'm pretty sure stems from depression. If I could get an ADHD prescription or depression meds I'd probably be a lot better but like. I am completely broke. So much so that those issues aren't even in the top 10 of pressing problems solved with money.

22 Given I've literally only done it once.. not really. I guess I post it around everywhere I can think of in excitement?

23 That one continuous dream I had that went on over a month centered on a Nightmare that was freshly corrupted. He was honestly so nerdy and adorable despite putting on the brave and mildly "evil" front. The boy. Him. Goddamnit I want to write that at some point.

24 Honestly I can't think of anything for this one.

25 Oh yeah, I can't think of anything off the top of my head but there's a lot I'd like to fix in all of my stories, lol.

26 Kind of? It's a more recent development, did it for Zeradelsída which still has yet to be written, did it for that Ninjagaësia too. A little bit of a broad, even vaguer outline for things I want to happen in Awakened, too? More like events, no particular order or connection.

27 A few of those WIP's that haven't been posted... Okay technically just one. There's also the very first fic I wrote that is subsequently the only one I've ever deleted.

28 Angstiest often coincides with cursed for some reason, so I'll just go with the ending of Andlàtkyn for the Apple Twins.

29 I kind of just.. don't. If I do, I start hating everything, and because I'm not THAT bad at spelling and grammar I think it's mostly fine the way it is.

30 Oh absolutely. It's particularly obvious when one looks at Andlàtkyn, which I wrote over the course of 4 years. Really neat transition, if I ever manage to do it, I'd rewrite the beginning a little to match the rest when crossposting to AO3. If I ever get around to that.

31 Again, Andlàtkyn. That fic is my baby, man. It's so precious to me.

32 Honestly I don't know for this one, which is weird.

33 100% Ink of Awakened. My little boy. I have some friends that would rib the hell out of me if they ever found out, lol. Thankfully the main one doesn't even remember that he has a Tumblr.

34 I was not expecting how hard of a question this is! I thought it was Andlàtkyn, but thinking about it.. I don't think so? It might simply just change depending on which one I'm currently fixated on, but at the moment I think my favorites to get that on is Awakened and Ninjagaësia, second of which already has basically nothing to begin with.

35 I don't have anything, oof.

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[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ where the salesman has to hide his true nature because he was too interested in the foreigner student living across his street.

warnings_ AGE GAP (reader in her early 20s and American), ANGST, FLUFF (soft!salesman), implied sex (very mild and bad), plot twist at the end. No proofreading yet…

notes_magnetic and switch were on replay while writing this <3 SOMEONE ANSWER MY QUESTION AT THE END!!!

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

It wasn’t a day without music.

You weren’t trying to sound cringe when you admitted you couldn’t live a day without music.

While showering, cooking, studying, painting your nails, walking to take the subway, or working in your office, you always have your EarPods or cable ones plugged into your ears.

And while that happened, you rarely looked at your surroundings. You knew you were in safe neighborhoods all the time.

After living for only a month in Namyangju in Seoul, you moved when a bright opportunity arose in a wealthier neighborhood.

The building across the street was sophisticated, futuristic, and bigger in comparison with yours; which could be considered vintage but cozier.

Hence why you didn’t know who lived there. And certainly, you were clueless about the neat man in an elegant suits and sweet smile coming out of said building each morning.

Men never approached you. Since you were a foreign woman, you were an outcast and outsider. And Korean society was not very fond of foreigners. Not that you could generalize, but it was an obvious fact.

And you weren’t looking for a boyfriend either. You had learned to enjoy the solitude after entering your twenties. With no boyfriend and few girlfriends, you would make it.

It was a very late winter, almost spring Saturday when you arrived at your favorite sushi spot near your apartment.

The place had a special roll of ahi tuna with spicy mayo, avocado, and fresh cucumber on top that you really loved.

It was slightly warm and orders were being shouted while you waited for your takeout.

It was then when you first saw him.

“A salmon sashimi order, please…” he said and you eyed him.

Tall, fit, great haircut, elegant suit. Overall, very great looking.

But you quickly turned back to your phone because there was no way a seeming bachelor like him would pay attention to you.

Plus, you weren’t looking for a boyfriend.

Plus two, that type of man would never be into you.

“Do you come here often?” you hear and you almost froze after seeing the handsome man facing you.

You were shocked.

“Sorry?” you ask just to clarify if you had actually heard him speaking English.

“I asked if you come here often…”

“Mostly every Friday or Saturday,” you say and he nods, offering you a polite smile.

“Me too. I had never seen you before”

His pronunciation was almost perfect and he had a sultry tone of voice that made you feel nervous and intrigued.

“Either you come too early or too late” You don’t want to sound like you’re flirting, you don’t think the man in front of you is interested. You decided that after being shocked. “I’m usually spent up with college and all”

“You’re a student?” you nod at him, attempting to smile for the first time.

The man in the suit smiles back and the attraction is undeniable.

“Yes, one more year and a half to graduate” Your hands were shaking but you pretended too well to not look bothered by the handsome man talking to you. “But I’m already an English teacher for kids with my associate's degree”

He didn’t know much about the occidental education, but he believed you were smart enough. At least you seemed like that.

“That’s great,” he says and you hear your order is ready.

You smile at the handsome man one last time and you are ready to leave, fully mentally set that it was only a friendly gesture to talk with a man like him.

“Care to join me for dinner?” You turn, shocked once again.

He offered a sweet smile that you couldn’t refuse.

“Where to, sir?” he smirked, pleased.

He had you right where he wanted.

“Wherever you’d like…”

Yeah, he seemed older, maybe late thirties, but he looked nice, he was approaching you, he could be single and you couldn’t miss the chance to say a neat guy like him showed interest in you.

“Sure” you finally accept and he starts leading the way.

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have missed your vibrant clothing if I had seen you before,” he says as he keeps the door open for you to come out.

“Well, it’s not like I’m the most interesting or appealing woman, sir” he chuckles.

“If that were true, I would say there are no mirrors in your place, dear” You instantly blush, your legs feeling wobbly and a smile creeping up your face.

And you considered yourself fine, you had so much self-love. Still, you were thrilled to see how a man like him was interested in you

But he was lying. He had seen you for the first time a month ago….

…

You’re sweaty but freshly waxed.

Only you were imprudent enough to bake on a hot day. Your music was playing from your iPad charging in the kitchen when there was a knock on your door.

Your bare feet drag you across the living room and into the little reception room and when you open your door, you smile deeply.

“I brought our dinner” There is your salesman, in a dark grey suit, black tie, and dress shoes. Briefcase in one hand, takeout in the other.

“I baked cookies” you reply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Can’t miss the smell…” he had never tried American cookies before.

Things were going well, to say the least.

The salesman was actually interested in you and turned out to be great company.

It would always amaze you how two different people could fit so well, like puzzle pieces that connect to totally different things.

His polished shoes rest near the entrance beside your sequin mary janes. His blazer was hanging beside your salmon coat and his hand was rubbing soft circles around your back.

Your legs were hanging over his lap and you were laying, one arm in the armrest of your coach while you admired the man beside you.

His eyes screamed he was falling in love, he knew. There was an unspoken rule about keeping private his identity and protecting the games. But no clause stated he couldn’t have interpersonal relationships or marry.

So there he was giving doe eyes to an American woman who was younger than him.

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you have the eyes of a sweet sociopath” Both of you burst into laughter. Him actually finding the fun in your words.

If only you knew…

“And I’d say you have the eyes of a lovely perfectionist” you huff, playfully pulling his tie out of place.

“I’m not a perfectionist” he eyes your place as you laugh, noticing all the books and trinkets you had. “I just gave you half-burned cookies”

“And you also waited in advance to wait for your college website to open your registration window”

“Registration is a vital thing, handsome” he smiles and stares deeply at you, making you feel nervous but eager to smile back.

The comfortable feeling of being with him causes you to have an epiphany.

A realization from your heart.

Your fingers trace the fabric of his dress shirt and he pays closer attention to your touch.

“Will I ever see you with some clothes that are not nice suits?” He chuckles before leaning closer, applying pressure, your thighs pushing against your stomach.

“You could see me without the suit…” your cheeks burn and he notices it, smiling at the sight. “Don’t be shy, baby”

“You make me nervous all the time” you admit, a little giggle coming out involuntary.

“Really?” He asks feigning doubt, smiling, and grasping your chin.

You roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me already” he wastes no time and quickly pulls you into his lap.

What starts as a soft but deep kiss slowly turns into a needy one. Your fingers curl into his soft hair and his hands land in your hipbones, just to start urging you to grind against him.

“Don’t make me say it” you manage to say, out of breath as he started kissing your neck. “Just know that I want it so bad”

“As you wish so…” You didn’t know how badly he wanted to tie you up and see how much he could ruin you.

His lunatic behavior is well hidden under rough but lovely touches and nibbles all across your body.

His long fingers cherished each mole, scar, and stretch mark in your figure, only making you accept how much you liked him.

You pulled a handsome man like him and it only made your ego boost.

The salesman was made for you.

…

Over the months, while being abroad, you mastered your loneliness to the point where you had started to explore the city by yourself.

Now you have a boyfriend, but he gives you a lot of independence during the week.

Three weeks ago he took you to dinner and on the way back, while passing by a park, both of you acknowledged that dating would be fine.

There weren’t a lot of things in common between you two. Your salesman was older, he liked music from his childhood years from the eighties and loved grunge music from when he was a teenager. But he mostly loved classical music. He liked traditional Korean dishes and enjoyed sitting on your little terrace to simply enjoy the view.

When it came to you, you enjoyed all types of music but mostly from your childhood in the 2000s and 2010s, music that was released nowadays and from the fifties or sixties. You always missed dishes from back home and your boyfriend urged you to show him what you liked.

He was sweet but rough. A real gentleman who never made you feel insecure or uncomfortable, purely devotion.

The relationship remained new, but you could tell it was looking too good to be true.

You asked for a smoothie with spirulina and collagen. The smurf blue painted a little bit of your tongue as you sipped your drink outside of a coffee shop.

It was sunny and a little foggy at the same time, and you were utterly relaxed that you almost gagged when someone called you.

“… y/n?” when you turned to your left, you saw your boyfriend, in another suit, briefcase, and two bags full of bread in his hands.

You chuckled and frowned confused.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking off your sunglasses. “And why did you got all that bread?”

He wasn’t expecting you near him that morning. In fact, he wasn’t expecting you for the rest of the day. It was on the weekends when he was attached to the hip with you.

He could play the card of an obvious and innocent boyfriend very well.

“It is my day to buy treats for the workmates” he explains with a sweet smile, you sigh, smiling and nodding.

“Ah, I see” you reply, not knowing what else to say. “I had a very short lecture”

“Are you going home now?” He asked, not really worried but wanting to make sure you were not going to the park across the street. Just where he had plans…

“I think so. Maybe I’ll go to get some new trinkets from the mall” he nodded, debating whether to get closer to you or not. He wasn’t sure making contact with you in public was correct.

It was you who walked away, only turning to say goodbye.

“Call me tonight. And be safe, dear” you say smiling while blowing him a kiss.

It touched him. He had to be very careful now that he had you. Right where he wanted to.

…

There is no steam, but it should be.

It was another Friday, no more burdens until Monday.

And you weren’t alone.

“Fuck, y/n…” you had your salesman cursing and moaning your name in the shower.

“Just a little rougher, baby” you beg, savoring the cold water running down your throat and towards your breasts.

One of his hands skillfully carried your left leg up, so your knee was brushing his ribs.

“Aww, my girl wants more?” You nod, closing your eyes to focus on not cumming yet.

And out of nowhere, between deep and rough thrusts of him, you hear him saying something.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” he says between pants, with his eyes closed and battling with how good you were taking him. “Conference outside Seoul. Just a week, baby…”

Your pleasure is paused by his words.

“Why you waited to tell me a day before you’re leaving?…” he stops fucking you.

He realizes you didn’t take well the news and it makes him feel bad. He could swear there were almost tears in your face.

“Oh, no, my blossom. Don’t be sad…” you almost tear up, pathetic. But it took you by surprise and you hated saying goodbye even if it was temporary. “I’ll call you as soon as I can”

You do not say anything. You try to disguise your discomfort with the way he is still inside you, hard and ready to be back to action.

But he already knew you too well.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell with anticipation next time” You eye him and you realize you love him.

“It’s okay. I understand”

Soon you forgot how well he went back to fucking you. Feeling so full of him, you kept tasting the way he moaned your name and kissed your chin.

But in the morning, just as you touched the cold and empty sheets, you missed him.

And as a woman, you couldn’t ignore the omen building up.

…

The first fight with your salesman wasn’t tremendous but it sure hurt.

You were utterly disappointed after not receiving a text or call from him in almost four days. You didn’t argue when he called, but it was beyond obvious that you were irritated. And it ended up in a bittersweet conversation and you hanging up abruptly.

The salesman was expecting you to yell and argue nonstop. But he was surprised by your short answers and tired tone of voice.

It made him feel bad. Like genuinely bad for worrying you.

But he couldn’t call you while being on the island. He had to wait an extra day to avoid suspicions from his boss. And now that he had a new task; to be extremely careful while being in Seoul because Seong Gi-hun was searching for him.

The salesman was stressed but as soon he heard your sweet voice, he almost felt bad.

You were his most precious thing in life.

The only thing keeping him from totally being insane. Like a magnetic pair, meant to fit despite being totally opposite.

You had such a strong hold on him that the salesman even found questioning his life decisions.

So he did a great job apologizing to you for not calling you sooner.

And a week later, he promised to take you to some thematic fancy bar in Gangnam.

He was smoking, a bad habit he had passed to you. But it was kind of a warm afternoon and he was waiting for you near the subway station.

A couple of minutes had passed when the salesman found himself out of breath after watching you arrive. Rarely does he see you in dresses, always vivid coats, shoes, and tops but never dresses.

That afternoon you had a cream satin gown, cowboy boots, and a long black coat. With red lips and sparkling eyes.

“By the way you’re looking at me… I might believe I look great” is the first thing you say, wrapping your arms around him and urging him to give you a peck. He chuckles, hugging you back.

“You also look too good, dear” his deep voice sends shivers through your spine.

He also looked too damn fine. Dress pants and a black turtleneck sweater, making him look younger and sexier-if that was even possible.

“Not too bad yourself too, honey” you compliment him and both of you start descending to the station.

You were excited because your salesman had shown you pictures of the bar, it was futuristic and you told him he had to take a lot of pictures of you in the restroom because it was all dark and it had neon lights. He rolled his eyes but assured me he would be your photographer.

By the time both of you were waiting, the salesman looked around.

Just to be careful. But to his surprise, it was more than that.

He studied the face of Seoung Gi-hun, he had only seen him once years ago. Now, it wasn’t only him the problem, but the shark loans he befriended.

A group of men looked around while seated on a bench, then texting.

“Let’s take a cab better” your boyfriend announces before grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs again. “Wait- why?”

He doesn’t say anything, you look back and see a man staring at you in the distance.

Interesting…

“Are you telling me what the hell was that?” You ask again once you are back outside, on a sidewalk.

Your boyfriend eyes you briefly before turning away to gesture for a cab to stop.

“Didn’t you see that man? In maroon shirt and disheveled hair?” He asks and you frown.

“No?” he shrugs, opening the cab door for you. “Doesn’t matter… I just didn’t like how he was staring around. Maybe it was just me being paranoid”

You chuckle.

“As if they were looking for you…” his eyes snap open, and he turns to look at you after telling the directions to the driver. But you’re looking at the passing street.

He stares too much until something clicks.

Something he had completely missed.

…

Great food, great drinks, great pictures taken, and great kisses and subtle touches in the darkness of the dance floor.

When you open your eyes, you see only your desk lamp is on, everything else is quiet and dark. You are tied in a chair.

“How fun was to play detectives?” you hear him, standing up from your couch. “You’re the detective Seong Gi-hun hired”

The fucker had made you drink more than intended.

It was a few months after completing your first semester in Seoul. You needed money and Gi-hun needed a subtle person that wouldn’t draw much attention. A foreigner was perfect. He promised to prioritize your safety and be fair.

“I accepted the deal before I had even met you”

“Since when do you know?” He asks, demanding an immediate answer.

“The day I saw you at the bakery” you admit, sighing.

He chuckles, turning his back to you.

“Too damn smart, my girl” you should be scared, but you aren’t.

“Yeah no shit” you huff, your hands opening and then clenching in distress. “Now I’ve been playing dumb for weeks. Pretending I haven’t got new clues that lead to you…”

“That’s sweet of you…” he turns back to face you.

And lifts his arm, pointing at you with a revolver.

Suddenly not so romantic.

“Gonna kill me, honey?” you smile, feigning innocence.

“I should do so, according to my boss” he presses the gun against your forehead, but you don’t flinch.

Based on stereotypes and some intersectionality, he thought it was ‘so American of you’

“Then do it” you dare him, feeling how was paying more attention to the fallen straps of your nightgown dress. “Pull the fucking trigger, handsome”

“I really should kill you” Your lips taste the metal of the gun, your salesman is a little insane.

“But I love you” he chuckles, leaning, putting both his hands in the armrest of the chair.

Inches away from you.

“I love you too” Your lips brush against his, the tension increasing.

It was so weird for him to admit he loved someone. After spending more than two decades unable to feel genuine human emotions, he was nonchalant, but deep inside, he was scared.

So he untied your hands.

“So what we’re going to do about this?”

It’s unbearable to be so close to him and not throw you against him. Your arms hugging him and pulling him closer.

“We both hush, honey” you whisper in his ear.

He kisses you, sliding an arm under your legs and the other on your back, carrying you to bed.

“As long and far as we need to” he promises and you nod, kissing him.

…

SOMEONE, PLEASE TELL ME IF GONG YOO’s CHARACTER DIED OR NOT IN THE SILENT SEA 🗣️

[starryal1na]

─ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

genre: fluff, sfw

word count: 1.4k

characters: aventurine, sunday, boothill, mr reca, alhaitham, kaveh

notes: those headcanons are coming from my silly little mind so don't take them too seriously (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i tried to write them as canon as possible but it might come off as a bit ooc (especially mr reca since we still don't know much about him...) i personally had lots of fun writing for them since they are my favorites male characters from the games <333

Aventurine 𔘓

kisses you as if it were his last – an emotional kisser – needs to be complimented

If you're at the kissing stage with him, congratulations since he doesn't let just anyone in his life. Let alone sharing such an intimate act. Kissing Aventurine may come across as desperate, dare I say needy. It's a lot since he pours all of his emotions into each press of his lips on yours. You feel everything– his complete devotion to you, his fear of losing you, even his inner battles about whether keeping you in his life is a good idea. Even so, each of his kiss is meaningful. No matter how intense it gets, you cherish the way he allows himself to put his guards down with you.

Since he has low self-esteem, compliment him on how good his lips feel on yours. Whisper sweet words here and there between kisses until his features soften, easing all of his worries. Because he craves validation more than anything, your praise will have his heart melting in no time. Only then will he feel more confident, taking the lead and locking your lips in a passionate heated kiss. He will leave you panting and asking for more <3

Sunday 𔘓

kisses you with the greatest care – your lips are his hyperfixation (he will think about them all day long)

He is kinda shy, not daring initiate a kiss even though he dreams of kissing you over and over again. Ever since your first kiss, Sunday hasn't been able to get enough. He unapologetically stares at your lips when you talk, smile or even eat something, fantasizing about making them swollen from a make out session. All his thoughts shut down as soon as you indulge him, crashing your lips against his. It's like he is on cloud nine, the plush of your lips eager yet delicate.

His lips are soft, the softest you've ever felt. He isn’t particularly fond of tongue kissing so he prefers to give you soft, gentle pecks. However, if he feels confident he will deepen them, his body pressing closer to yours as muffled gasps of delight escapes his mouth. And when he kisses you, it’s as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. He is careful with the way he holds you, as if you might break if he dares to tighten his grip. Speaking of hands, he is always touching you. His personal favorite is keeping one hand on your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone while resting the other on your waist guiding you even closer to him <3

Boothill 𔘓

a biter – and a cheeky kisser – loves to cover your face in kisses only to smother your lips over and over again

He is all for heatedly making out with you. It doesn't matter if you're in public or not, he isn't unshamed at all if it means having his pretty lover panting in his robotic arms. He loves to tease you, especially with his sharp pointy teeth. Whenever you're sitting on his lap, breathlessly following the lead Boothill sets for your make out session, he grazes his sharpened teeth over your bottom lip at some point. It's just enough to hurt a little but he knows deep down you like it this way, so why not take advantage of it ?

Aside from the biting, Boothill also loves teasing you by purposely avoiding your lips. In those moments you wish you had the power to complain, but you're left speechless. He is surprisingly soft as he presses his lips against your forehead, eyelids, cheekbones and then all the way down to your chin and neck. He is taking his time with you, cherishing these quiet moments with you since being a Galaxy Ranger is far from being safe. It's when you're looking at him with eyes full of love, of belonging, that he locks your lips into a tender kiss. But, as cheeky as he is, he pulls away only to press another kiss on your lips, this time with more force. Then another, and another, until it turns into quick breath-stealing kisses. It’s endearing though, how utterly adorable he can be when it comes to you and the way he loves you <3

Mr Reca 𔘓

a perfomative kisser – needs the setting to be perfect in order to kiss you – makes comments about the kisses

As a film director, Reca is an expert at building up a romantic kissing moment— and that applies to his love life as well. Whenever he wants to kiss you, it has to be perfectly executed, to the point where he practically writes the script for your kisses beforehand. It might comes across as superficial, but that’s just how he operates. Otherwise he’d be disappointed in himself. The setting must be romantic enough, so he usually takes you to a breathtaking landscape, a luxurious restaurant or carefully arrange your shared space– dimly lit with candles, with soft, romantic music playing in the background. Every detail must align with his vision of the perfect moment.

Kissing him is perfect. As intented. You don't mind that it was planned since you acknowledge his need to be in control of it. He just wants to be good to you. Plus, he knows how to work you up. Tilting your chin up, he compliments you on how gorgeous you look before closing the gap between your lips. The warmth of his lips is so comforting to you, as is the way he holds you. You can't help but roll your eyes when you hear the enthusiastic "magnificient !" comment he manages to blurt out. The only response he gets is you deepening the kiss, determined to shut him up for good <3

Alhaitham 𔘓

lazy kisser – doesn't kiss a lot but when he does he blows your mind – leaves you breathless and acts like nothing happened

He barely takes the initiative himself, unless you’ve been making out for a long time. Alhaitham's lack of action doesn't come from not enjoying it— it's just that he doesn't really think about it. Most of the time, it's you who come to him asking for a kiss. He never denies you the pleasure of having your pretty lips on his but, like I said, you have to work for it. If you don’t, he simply stands there and give you a chaste kiss.

Other times it's just that Alhaitham likes to tease you, purposely reacting slowly until you grow impatient and take matters into your own hands. Alhaitham patiently waits, curious to see how far you want to go with him. You have piqued his interest and that's all you needed, biting then licking his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. Soon enough, he is the one taking control, moving your lips together as he pulls you on his lap and keeps you as close as possible to him. Because yeah, Alhaitham can be very clingy when he wants to. As soon as you're done, he goes right back to his reading, looking completely unaffected (he is not though, he is internally blushing) <3

Kaveh 𔘓

kisses a lot – steals kisses whenever he has the chance to – unapologetic about the amount of kisses he shares with you (he is just a sweetheart okay)

He is the one who, I believe, would kiss you the most out of the others. He takes initiative a lot. Whenever you cross paths, he stops you just to press his lips on yours. Doing the dishes ? A kiss. Doing errands ? He subtly pulls you into a corner to steal one. Getting ready for the day ? One, two, three...... ten kisses before he finally lets you leave the house. You're not complaining, not when it means seeing him all giddy and flustered afterward. And honestly, it’s not like it leaves you indifferent either. So really, it’s a win-win situation.

The roles are reversed when he is overworking himself on a project. Convincing him to take a well-deserved break is tough, but once he does he is rewarded with the softest kisses in the quiet of his study. He sighs contentedly at the mere brush of your lips, as if you’ve just given him the ability to function properly all over again. His work fades from his mind the moment you leave him with shiny, swollen red lips. And if you sneak into his study every now and then to steal more kisses while he works, he doesn’t complain in the least <3

/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\

[gojo-mochi]

Telling JJK men “I’m not putting my minecraft bed next to yours tonight”

TW: Sweet/Simple. Mild Suggestive on Toji's part

Gojo:

Dramatically falls to his knees, tears, snot, all the works. Threatens to jump off the highest block in all the lands. Kidnaps your pet wolf or favorite farm animal and tells you that he’s “taking the kids and leaving.” Would loudly put on sad music as he plays right next to you, digging in the mines underground very, very slowly. Not even using his best equipment, just a shitty stone pickaxe because he thinks that makes him look more gloomy in your eyes. Would talk out loud to all the animals you own about how he misses you and how “Momma” is mad at him. 

Geto:

Looks flabbergasted that you would even utter something like that to him. Hits back with “Well, I’m not gonna put my bed next to yours!” Like he was the one to said that in the first bed. Quickly goes to make a very elaborate Minecraft House so he can brag about how comfy and deluxe it is in front of it. Makes a grand tour of showing you the inside, which ends at the bedroom which he decorated to the nines. A sly attempt to somehow make you jealous enough so you would come crawling back to him so you could live in this new fancy mansion he made (in a video game)

Nanami: 

Have a heartbroken look on his face right after you said that, and you immediately regret it. Would take his bed out of the house first so your character can still be in there; would move his bed down to the basement or another building. Goes on a journey to pick up some flowers or lure in a new pet dog/cat/parrot to win back your love (he never lost it). You put your beds back together in less an hour and played the rest of the night, all snuggled up in Nanami’s lap as you watch him tend to the farming. 

Choso: Is also heartbroken by your words. Stops playing the game and looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Does that also mean that I can’t sleep with you in our bed tonight?” (He’s talking about your real-life bed). You don’t know whether or not you should tease him further or just say that it was a joke all along. If you decide to tease him further and double down on your words, he would spend a whole day in secret, building something to show you in the game world. A whole field of flowers or a statue of your in-game character as a show of good will. 

Toji:

Not really into the game that much but plays it because you like it. So saying that doesn’t really bother him until you say it also applies in real life, then that will get his head to turn. With his eyebrow raised and his arm crossed, he looks at you and asks, “Are you really going to go down this route?” You fought hard to keep a straight face and nodded. “If you take it back now, I will forget this all even happened, last chance.” Toji uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his knees as he got into position to start chasing. You glance at your escape route (the door) and suck in a breath. “You’ll never catch me alive.” And with that you ran. You sprinted out the door as fast as you could, screaming for your life as Toji chased behind you.  You don’t get far before he catches you and throws you over his shoulder, pinning you down to your shared bed, and making you regret your words from earlier.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny had promised the movie was kid-friendly but also said the previous movie "Her Melody" was technically kid-friendly too. So the better question was if it was emotion-friendly because this family was full of sensitive people.

"It's based on my puppy Cujo." Danny said holding up the movie case called "Echo & Ash"

It was hard to say no to Danny. He looked hopeful and sad. So movie night would happen.

Damian was not giving a proper memo. Last time Danny brought a movie Damian slept in Dick's room and everyone was super clingy. It was....new. Not a bad feeling but it was pathetic how a single film did this. It was actually Alfred's favorite as well.

***

Movie: "It's your new friend Eddy. She's a girl so give her a good name." "She barks everytime I talk so her names going to be Echo." "That's a wonderful name"

The movie started with a feel-good story of a boy named Everest and his first pet. A puppy named Echo. Echo followed him everywhere and loved running in the woods with Everest. The family sighed collectively that nothing sad had happened.

But this was a Danny movie so emotional trauma will be had.

One clear day the two were playing when the camera suddenly shifted to the woods. Nothing could be seen other than trees. The camera shifted like it was being held by someone and you realize. The threat isn't out there...there was someone there and they are currently holding a camera as they watch the boy.

Uncertainty builds as Echo suddenly stops. Her ears stand at attention as she zeros in on the camera, her eyes laser-focused.

Then she begins pulling Everest away. She makes him chase her out of the woods. But the camera stays stationary and not moving to follow.

The scene lingers a little too long before the view shifts upwards and in another direction as heavy footsteps follow.

Stephanie: Oh god, I hated that.

Barbara: I don't think I remembered to breathe.

Movie: One afternoon as Everest walks home alone after running from a group of bullies a car races down the road. As the car rears closer a series of barks rang out. Echo chased the car like a mad dog. Everest felt a shove on his side as the dog's body pushed him aside.

There was sharp bark, a thud, and a whimper.

Then the scene shifts to a vet office. There is no sound other than a soft piano. Everest cries with Echo in his arms as a vet kneels next to him, probably explaining what's going to happen. Echo pants heavily before she slowly stops and closes his eyes. Then she is gone.

Damian: *bitting his lip and trying to hold back emotions* Nightingale...What. Is. This.

Danny:*smiles gently and shrugs*

Damian: Daniel! No!

Danny: It'll be okay.

Bruce: It's okay Damian. Come sit next to me.

Movie: Echo wondered around the endless woods for what felt like forever until a voice called put.

"Hey, puppy! What are you doing here?" The boy asked.

Echo sniffed around searching.

"You looking for someone?"

Echo whimpered as she turned in every direction searching for her family.

Duke: Ah, nooo. She's so cute.

Movie: "Well, I'm Ash."

Echo sniffs the boy briefly before turning to keep looking elsewhere.

Echo wondered for a long time. Night and day passed but she wasn't getting tired or hungry.

"Only other spirits pass through here. No one stays like you do. Did you come to keep me company?"

The boy was very talkative but Echo didn't seem to mind. Slowly she warmed up to him and spent time playing with him. Her ghost friend was happy to have her.

But she would still think about her family.

In the real world, Everest couldn't stop thinking about Echo. He was all alone now.

"She probably hated me."

But he didn't feel like she was gone. Sometimes he felt a brush against his leg or strangely a push on the swing. A ball rolling on the ground towards them alerted him one afternoon. He had been hiding in the backyard again from the neighborhood boys when he felt it.

"Echo?"

The wind blew against his face and somehow he knew for sure she wasn't alone.

Damian: Daniel, tell me now that they see each other.

Dick: Damian, be nice. Just watch the movie.

Movie: "Is that your friend doggy? That human?" *bark* "Why is he crying like that?"

Ash hovered near the boy making a cold wind brush past.

"Hey, you shouldn't cry. Your dog is right here. She's been badgering me to help her visit so the least you can do I put on a smile." Ash said. "Come on! Get up!"

Evening he couldn't see Everest heard something in the back of his mind. He knew he wasn't alone.

Dick: He kind of reminds me of Jason.

Jason: What's that supposed to mean?

Dick: nothing bad...not good either.

Movie: Over time Everest learned to see and not just hear the spirits. Playing with them after school. He was able to run with Echo again and have a friend like Ash. Ash also played tricks on his bullies.

However, Ash would always look over his shoulder, and when it got late Ash said it was time to go.

"Can't you just stay a little longer? The sun still up." Everest complained.

"But it's still winter. It'll be gone in minutes. Besides we can't stay on this side for long. We have to go." Ash's eyes didn't leave the horizon as he scanned it.

Duke: Calling it now. Ash died after the sun went down.

Stephanie: No shit, Sherlock.

Bruce: Language.

Movie: "Ash? I've been wondering. How did you die?"

Echo whined pawing at Ash.

"Don't worry Echo it's fine. I don't remember. Most ghost I've met do but I don't really know."

"The other ghosts?"

"Yeah, they come over from the other side sometimes to visit but they have to go back. They are all older so they take care of me. I can't go there with them though."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. They said that I couldn't move on until I get what I needed and let go. But I don't know what that is. I'm scared though, of leaving the woods."

"Oh...is these something you want now?"

"I wanted a friend and then Echo showed up and now I can visit you. So I think I'm happy now."

Barbara: Am I insane or does Ash look like a slightly younger Phantom.

Cassie: (in sign) I thought so too. But I'm not sure. That guy rarely shows up.

Movie: "It's dark! You need to leave! Hurry!"

"Not until you tell me the truth! You're hiding something! You've been hanging around looking for something! You won't tell me anything! Then when I found that burnt-up shack you yelled at me to leave and not come back! I thought you were my friend!" Everest screamed at the ghost.

"Ever, please! Go home! It's not safe here." Ash pleaded with tears in his eyes.

But it was too late. That monster came. The same one from Everest's nightmares. The visions he had gotten after seeing Ash. Instead of just a black shadow, it was a man.

Bruce: *takes a sharp breath*

Jason: No. God damn it. Don't do this.

Tim: Danny. Tell me this isn't-

Danny: *holds Tim's hand* It'll be okay.

Movie: The man who lurked in the shadows had waited look enough. He had always been there in those woods just out of frame watching and hidden in the tree line. You couldn't see him but you felt him every time the camera panned around the woods. The barren leafless trees giving the illusion of safety since you could see more than in the summer and the noisy leaf litter on the ground would warn you. But not when it was dark and certainly not now that the noisy dog wasn't around.

Everest had forgotten that even with ghosts he was still alone.

Everest was taken to that shack deep in the woods as Ash screamed unheard to the ears of the living and knowing very well what would happen next.

But spirits like Ash can't say after nightfall. Not when they feared the dark. But Ash persisted, fading but still hanging on. His ghost form flickering like a flame. Echo was dead but her mission and life were the same in death. She would protect her boy.

The ghost dog sprinted into the night back to her old home. She bumped into anything she could to cause a ruckus and catch the adults' attention. Knocking over family photos until they noticed Everest wasn't home. Making the worry enough to look for him.

All the while a pyre was built for another soul.

Damian: Come on...

Movie: The climax rushed by as the fire burnt and a search party was launched. But when it was over all the sound stopped and a body was zipped into a bag. A family held eachother and cried. A serial child killer was put in handcuffs.

The worst part was how believable it was. Even Ina story of talking to ghosts and pranks the reality of these cases still exist.

But there are small blessings. As Ash cried in the dark a pair of arms wrapped around him and a wet nose pressed against his cheek. His two best friends were here and they all felt ready. It was time to see the other side now that they were together and not alone.

Dick: I am..not okay.

Barbra: I hate that I actually enjoyed that.

Bruce: *brooding*

Damian: I'm going to bed.(he didn't and went to check on his pets)

Jason: ...

Tim: I trusted you.

Danny: But it's a beautiful ending.

Tim: Okay yes but...still sad. They died!

Danny: But they are together. That's a happy ended. Not the happiest but it's not the end for them. Death is just a new chapter not a bad one.

Tim: You optimism scares me and it is unneeded in this family.

Danny: I'm family now~

Tim: You're mine at least.

A continuation of this

Danny: I got another movie for us!

Tim: Danny, I love you so much...but I can't take another sad movie.

Danny: But it's really good and it has a good ending.

Tim: Really?

Danny: It's about a boy and his dog. You see his dog dies-

Tim: Danny no.

Danny: Let me finish! The dog dies but meets another boy who's a ghost on the other side. It beautiful story about a dog who goes back and forth to keep his friend safe. The two boys become friends and unravel the truth behind the ghost boy's death. Come on Tim...I worked hard on this one.

Tim: Fine, but only if I can sucker everyone else to watch it with us.

(Danny doesn't consider death to be a sad part of a movie or a bad ending.)

[silvergyus]

paper hearts- c.sb

pairing: kindergarten teachers! soobin x reader

summary: you and soobin teach kindergarten classes across the hall from each other. when the day to hand out cards finally arrives, you notice one card in your mailbox that’s not like the others

warnings: this fic is all-ages!/ a kindergartener falls at recess/ odi is still alive because I think teacher soobin with a pet hedgehog is adorable

word count: 2,400+

author’s note: part of my valentine's day event!

song rec: valentine- laufey

Paper hearts lined the hallway bulletin boards, shades of pink, red and white signaling to all who passed through what holiday was soon approaching. Holidays, spirit days, and any big event of the like were your not-so-secret favorite part of your job. You loved cutting construction paper into new shapes, stapling themed borders to your announcement boards and finding new crafts for your students to create. You’d been a kindergarten teacher for years now, and viewed each group of students as a new opportunity to create lasting memories for them to look back on as they continued through school. You taught because you loved your students, loved helping them discover a love of reading, loved seeing their eyes grow wide as they watched a caterpillar burst from its chrysalis transformed into a butterfly. You loved their curious eyes and silly takes on arts and crafts. In short, you loved the kids. But the holiday decorating, that was an extra bonus that made you love the job even more. And this year, there was an extra special bonus.

Across the hall from you taught Mr. Choi, or Soobin, as you called him in the teachers’ lounge. Tall and handsome, he had a way with the kids that most didn’t. He had a natural softness that made the kids feel safe, a charm that made them laugh, and a way of explaining things that made them understand the world in a whole new light. There weren’t many male teachers in your elementary school, and as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but crush on Soobin.

He didn’t make it any easier for you either, standing by you during recess when you went outside to watch the kids play, sitting by you at lunch, asking you about your students, what books you’d been reading, even showing you pictures of his pet hedgehog. His careful attention made your heart flutter, and you desperately wished you could see him outside of work.

With Valentine’s approaching, you couldn’t help the hopeless romantic in you from daydreaming about having him as your Valentine.

—

Monday, February 10th

You slid into your usual chair in the teachers’ lounge, reheated leftovers from the weekend on the table in front of you. Pulling out your current read from your bag, you dug in, relaxing into the quiet. The brief moment of solace was soon interrupted as Soobin sat down across from you, his long legs bumping into yours beneath the table. He quietly apologized for the unintentional invasion of personal space but you didn't mind, not when it was him.

You asked how his day’s been so far, tell him your kids have also been bouncing off the walls, excited for the holiday. Taking a sip of his drink, he replied that he’s sure your kids are more excited than his, your classroom being decorated so much more than his. You could feel your cheeks heat at the compliment, appreciating the recognition of your secret passion.

“So um,” he cleared his throat between words, “do you have plans for Valentine’s?”

“You mean besides my hot date with twenty five-year-olds?” You laughed, stirring your leftovers. “Nah, I'm gonna read the cards they give me and eat leftover candy on my couch probably.” You took a bite and looked at Soobin, “it's all I ever do for Valentine's.”

He smiled empathetically, the left side of his mouth quirking up first to show his dimple. “Yeah, that's probably all I'll be doing.”

Part of you wanted to seize the moment, suggest the two of you hang out, go out, or eat half-melted chocolates together. But before you could speak, Miss B- who taught second grade- sat down next to you and very excitedly began to tell you about her newest sewing project. The moment was over, but when you looked back at Soobin, his eyes were still on you.

—

Tuesday, February 11th

Twenty students napped on their vinyl pull-out mats. The lights in your classroom were dimmed, blinds turned shut to keep out the afternoon light, the tip-tap of your fingers on your keyboard the only sound heard over the quiet rise and fall of tired breaths. A soft knock at your door pierced the quiet, drawing the attention of the few kids not sleeping. You slowly stood, smiling to calm the little ones that have stirred before peeking through the glass to see who the visitor is.

Soobin stood on the other side of the door, smiling sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. You cracked the door open slightly, stepping into the hall so as to not further disturb your students with your conversation. 

“Soobin!” you whispered excitedly, still trying to keep your voice down during naptime. “What’s up? Do you need something?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was here for naptime?” He smiled at his own joke and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when his dimples pressed into his cheeks. He shook his head before whispering back, “I actually need to borrow your glue sticks.”

“My glue sticks?”

“We have arts and crafts next and I had to throw half mine away last week after one of my students took a bite out of them.” He grimaced at the memory and you stifled a laugh, hand coming up to cover the sound. “Purple glue was everywhere! It was a disaster; I had to call his parents!” His whispers were desperate, only making you laugh more.

When you recovered from your threatening giggle fit you took a breath, smoothing down your shirt. “Yes, you can borrow my glue sticks. But, I expect to get them back without bite marks.”

A smile brightened his face and butterflies filled your stomach again. “Lemme go get them.”

“Thank you! I owe you!”

—

Wednesday, February 12th

You waited with your students as their parents arrived to pick them up, occasionally bending to tie a shoe or zip up a backpack, reminding everyone to stay away from the curb until their grown ups were ready for them. You looked down the line of approaching vehicles and locked eyes with Soobin. He quickly looked away, turning his attention back to his students, but you couldn’t help the heat that rose in your chest. How long had he been looking at you?

You waited a little longer that day, holding hands with one of your students as she waited for her dad, running late from work. Once she was finally on her way home, you made your way back inside the building, eager to grab your things and go home.

Across from your classroom the lights were still on in Soobin’s room. You couldn’t help but peek inside, still buzzing from catching him staring. His door was shut, and when you peered through the glass, you could see him at his desk, mouth twisted in focus as he held a glue stick and sheet of dark red paper.

—

Thursday, February 13th

Recess was dusted with a flurry of fresh snowflakes. The kids were eager to get out onto the playground, and you were on edge as you kept an eye on everyone, making sure no one slipped on hidden ice or threw snowballs at someone else’s head. Your students loved when it snowed, but you wished today had been an inside recess. Fresh snow always meant someone got hurt.

It was no later than you thought it then you heard the sound of crying. Every teachers’ head whipped in the direction of the cries, and you watched as Soobin ran towards his student sitting on the blacktop, cradling her arm. You approached him, concern washing over you. Other students tugged on your coat, asking what happened. You comforted them, telling them to give the girl some space while Mr. Choi figured out what was wrong.

Soobin’s voice was gentle as he spoke to the girl, asking her what happened and where it hurt. Through tears she said she slipped and now her elbow hurt. He picked up her hat from where it fell during her fall and placed it gently on her head. “Only your elbow, right? Your legs feel okay?”

The girl nodded, slowly calming under Soobin’s careful attention. “Do you think you can stand up for me? I’ll go with you to the nurse’s office and we’ll make sure that you feel better.” The girl nodded again, wiping away tears with her tiny pink mitten. Soobin took her non-injured hand in his and began slowly walking inside, careful to lead the girl away from the patch of ice that had caused her fall.

“Can you watch my students while I take her inside?”

“Of course.” 

You spent the rest of the day replaying the moment in your head. Soobin’s quick reaction, his careful attention, the way he calmed her almost instantly. It made you feel a warm, almost domestic affection towards him. You had to keep your mind from wandering, from imagining if he would be the same as a father.

After school that day you asked Soobin about the girl.

“She’ll be alright. Nurse thinks it’s just a bruise, but the parents are taking her to the doctor to make sure she didn’t break anything. She wasn’t even crying anymore when her mom picked her up.”

You sat down in the tiny kids’ chair in his classroom, knees coming up to your chest. “That’s good. I was worried about her.”

“Yeah, it was scary.”

“You’re really good with the kids you know.” Your voice was heavy with sincerity. “They adore you.” You picked at a stray fabric on your pants as you spoke next. “We all do.”

He looked into your eyes after you spoke, holding your gaze, starting a fire in your chest. “Thank you. That’s nice to hear.”

You stood, wanting to diffuse the intensity of the moment. “If I ever slip on the ice, I hope that you’re there to pick me up.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll make sure I catch you before you fall.”

It might be too late for that, you thought.

—

Friday, February 14th

The kids all chattered over one another as they opened the Valentines they shared with one another, a nostalgic Charlie Brown special playing in the background. They couldn’t possibly sit still and watch the movie after snacking on frosted cookies and heart-shaped chocolates all afternoon. Their crafted mailboxes from earlier in the week were now stuffed with treats from their classmates and teacher. Your mailbox was also stuffed with cards, lollipops and gifts from thankful parents. You weren’t going to open them until after school, as per your tradition.

The school day ended on a high note, lots of giggles and excited little ones running to show their cards to their parents at pickup. You waved goodbye to all of them with a full heart before retreating from the cold back to the warmth of your classroom.

Slumping into the oversized bean bag chair in the reading corner, you began to rifle through your mailbox of Valentines, looking for something sweet as a pick-me-up before you tidied up and went home. At the bottom of the box sat one Valentine that stood out from the rest. Instead of store-bought cards with cartoons, or handmade cards still sticky with purple glue, this one was expertly put together, dark red cardstock folded into a perfect heart with white lace decorating the edges. “Be my Valentine?” it read in the neat script of an adult across the front. If this was from a parent, it was awfully personal. You opened the card with apprehension, not sure what you would find inside. In the same white pen it read “from your secret admirer in 2B.”

2B? That was the classroom across from yours, Soobin’s classroom. Your heart raced. This card was from him? A Valentine? This must have been what you saw him working on the other day. A Valentine for you?

Did this mean he liked you back? Maybe it was something he did for all the other teachers. But if it was just a friendly Valentine between coworkers, then why did he sign it “from your secret admirer”? You had to ask him about it.

You stuffed the other cards back into the box, shuffling to get up out of the beanbag. At that moment, Soobin walked past your open door, heading towards his classroom. You called his name, still struggling to stand. He turned, eyes wide, towards you. You walked towards him, card in hand. His ears flushed as you held the Valentine up. “Is this from you?”

“I was hoping that you’d open those at home.”

“I wanted a snack before I drove home.”

You took in the way he shifted his weight between his feet, hands itching towards his pockets, ears growing redder by the second. “Did you make anyone else a card?”

He shook his head, lips twisting into a small pout. “Just you.”

“I should’ve made you one.” Your voice was quiet, hoping he read into what you really meant.

His eyes shot up from where they had been focused on the floor tiles, finding your gaze and holding it. “So you don’t think I’m overstepping?”

“Oh my gosh no! I actually thought it was from a parent at first, and that would’ve been weird and overstepping, but I um,” you paused, scared to admit the secret you’d been harboring since the fall. “I actually really hoped you’d ask me to be your Valentine.”

His eyes lit up like a puppy’s, a smile breaking over his face, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks. “Me too.”

You laughed, he was just too cute not to. “Well I really should’ve made you a card then.”

He shook his head, stepping closer. He reached for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones. His skin was soft against yours, and you could barely focus on his face when every cell that touched his felt like a tiny firework. “It is still Valentine’s Day, you know. We could always celebrate without twenty kids hyped up on sugar.”

“You’re saying that like the twenty kids aren’t what makes it fun.” You smiled at him, heart swelling at the thought of finally getting to spend time with Soobin outside of work. “But I would like that very much.”

“Let’s go, right now. Let’s go somewhere.”

“Right now? Won’t we need a reservation though? It’s Valentine’s day, and a Friday night.”

He paused, enthusiasm faltering. “Well, true, but we’ll find something.”

“Even if we don’t,” you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours, “this is already my favorite Valentine’s Day.”

Just like that, you finally had a Valentine.

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @lunesdesire @notyourjaem @https-yeonjun @mapofthemazeinthemirror @ohhdet

send a message to be added or removed from my taglist!

[quokkicidal]

L.M. | Husband Material

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Warnings: None

Pairing: non-idol!Minho x gn!reader

A/N: Not a full on story, just some little blurbs :)

Requests open

Materlist

The kitchen smelled of your favorite breakfast, being cooked by your one and only Minho. He offered to make it because that’s just how he shows his love. Small gestures that build up, and you can’t help but to feel so lucky.

He looked at where you were sitting at the kitchen island and said, “How do you want your eggs?”

“Hmm, scrambled please!”

He just nodded his head and continued cooking. He started humming as he brought your food to you, placing the plate on the table and a kiss on the top of your head. You said thank you and he sat down and ate with you. He was the only person in your life that you could tell everything. He made you feel so safe and you truly cherish all the moments you have together, even the simple ones like these.

———

In the grocery store, Minho pushed the cart. Not because he wanted to, but he knows that if you pushed it you guys would be getting way more than what you needed. “Alright, next on the list is beef.” He said reading from the list you and him worked on together.

“Let’s go to the freezer isle then, and we can pick up some ice cream while we’re over there and we can have a movie night!” Minho smiled at your enthusiasm for movie nights and ice cream. It’s one of his favorite nights because you guys cuddle and make fun of movies together. One time you were watching Benji and Minho was trying his hardest not to cry, but there’s just something about animals in a sad setting that really pull at his heart stings. Of course you were crying too, who wouldn’t. But every time you bring it up to tease him, he always says, “You were crying more than I was!” When in reality he cried harder than you.

———

If you’re having a bad day at work, he’ll make sure to run you a bath before you get home. Filled with your favorite bath soap and your favorite candle lit on the counter. Despite what his friends see, he truly is a romantic at heart. Acts of service is definitely his love language. Before you get out of the bth, he’s already handing you a towel he previously tossed in the dryer to warm it up. He truly treats you like you’re a queen. You Al’s do the same for him, but in a different way. If you wake up before him, you make sure to make breakfast for the both of you and you iron his clothes if he has to dress formal. You know it’s not needed but he appreciates the crisp fold of a white button up.

———

Date nights are always looked forward to between you two. Whether you’re just going out to lunch, or you’re going to a full on five star restaurant. You tell him that he doesn’t need to do all this, but he’s planning something. As you both finish your dinner you share a dessert, which he lets you choose, he makes small talk. To be honest, he’s a bit nervous. He feels so safe around you, enough to let his guard down. When you first met him, you never would’ve expected being one of the few people that he lets in his bubble, but you are so happy that it ended up this way. The waiter eventually comes back to the table, and asks you guys to come with him. The waiter led you both to a back secluded garden area, which was absolutely beautiful. It was covered with flowers and even had a fountain. You stop by the fountain marveling at the work, and beside you, Minho gets down on one knee. As you turn, you couldn’t help but to start tearing up. “Oh my god, is this what I think it is?”

He nervously smiled, “Only if your answer is yes?” You couldn’t believe it, “These past three years have been the best three years I could have asked for. You truly are someone so special to me and i wouldn’t want to live the rest of my life if you weren’t by my side, will you marry me?”

By this time, you are full on waterworks, “Yes yes yes, of course I’ll marry you!” He put the ring on your finger and hugged you like it would be the last time he saw you. Through tears he says, “I love you, i love you so much.”

You laugh and say, “I love you too, and I always will.”

[gallapiech]

weekly tag wednesday

Thank you for the questions @jrooc and for the tags @kiennilove @energievie

today we're gonna be talkin' ragrets. All those shoulda, woulda and coulda's!

First.. the basics:

Name: Pie

Popular music/band/artist while you were in highschool: I'm not sure... I was listening to vocaloid... One Direction?

Okay.. let's get into it...

What's one thing you wish you'd known when you were younger? How to invest in bitcoin

What is a course or certification you wish you'd done? Maybe I shoulda pursued art school?

What's a style you wish you'd never rocked? Majority of my clothing used to be hand me downs so, i dont know lool!

What's a style you totally killed? thongs

Do you still wear it? ;)

Favorite pair of shoes you've ever owned: omg im so not knowledgable on shoes. i like my current ones cuz they feel comfortable? LOL

Have you ever worn heels? Do you regret it? Do you wish you had tried to wear heels? Do you think heels are the devil? What are heels--I think we get it, Jess: Never worn heels but I think I could do it with the help of some secret talents I possess.

Name one bucket list item? See the aurora borealis

What's something you would do if you could step outside all your insecurities/fears today? So. Much!!!

Is there another language you wish you learnt? Papiamento or Japanese.

What's something you've done to your hair that you look back on and cringe? That's a secret I will not tell.... Lets just say some people called me slim shady...

Okay last one.. what's a real regret? ██████ █ ██████ ███ ████ ████ ███ ███████... Hmm classified I guess. *shrug*

@deedala @michellemisfit @spookygingerr @lingy910y

@ian-galagher @creepkinginc @transmurderbug @stocious @runawaybrainsc

@blue-disco-lights @roryonic @romidoes @fireballazalea @geonbaeeeesblog

@kowhaifairy @runninonemptyy @echotrees @nozenfordaddy @sam-loves-seb

@samantitheos @deathclassic @lazystargazy @gallavich-annise @femboymilkovich

@spacerockwriting @mmmichyyy @spoonfulstar @darlingian @burninface

@rereadanon @thepupperino @suzy-queued @palepinkgoat @look-i-love-u

@callivich @sgtmickeyslaughter @heymrspatel @whatthebodygraspsnot @kiennilove

@solitarycreaturesthey @doshiart @guinguin1984 @mybrainismelted @crossmydna

fully stole this tag list from jess because im feeling extra lazy today.

[leoruby-draws]

Heard that DC was gonna put out a new Starfire cartoon, so I decided to post this. Though I already drew this before that announcement, due to already reading the 70s Starfire mini-series. This drawing is Koriand'r hanging out with the 70s Starfire, who's also a alien escaping from slavery and being a awesome warrior in her own right. That's right there were other starfires before the Koriand'r, 3 in fact!

The first one was Leonid Konstantinovitch Kovar (what a mouthful), a russian hero, one of the earliest in DC I think. This was in the 60s so the cold war was in full force, so it was interesting that DC decided to have a soviet hero. He now goes by Red Star currently.

The second one wasn't actually a hero, but a minor Supergirl villain. She's kinda of a dramatic James Bond sorta villain but I liked her. Very fashionable, seemed to have a different outfit every time she popped up.

And the third, with her own mini-series (8 issues btw) in 1976, the lady in green in the drawing up there. I really did like reading the mini, a fun tho short adventure. Only problem was that it didn't have a conclusion, I guess it got canceled, maybe due to low sales? Thats a shame, I really wanted to see how it ended. After her series ended, Starfire would pop up occasionally in the dc universe, usually in short cameos. My personal favorite is the Starman (1994) one, where all three (hero) Starfires pop up in a very funny way.

As for 70s Starfire herself, I liked her quite a bit! Seeing her regain her agency and try to free others was great, she's quite inspirational. And gives her a strong thematic similarity to Koridand'r as well, wouldn't surprise me if the writers used the 70s version as a template for her. I think if the two Starfires meet each other, they would get along pretty well! Lets hope she pops up in the Starfire cartoon, fingers crossed!

Also if I'm gonna post about Starfire, here's some bonus art of her!

I was thinking about how it would go, if Koriand'r arrived earlier in the timeline and meets the 1966 teen titans. Dick seems pretty happy to meet her. Also I wonder if she'll meet the Russian Starfire, might have to fight over the name lmao.

Last drawing, here's a baby version of the team meeting Starfire, how cute.

Well that was fun to draw, hoped you like it!

[moonshapedbox]

once again thank u sm @strawberribunni3 for tagging me <3

favorite color: don't have one bc it changes !!! rn it's soft green :)

currently reading: notes from underground by fyodor dostoevsky (it's for my class)

last song: don't follow by alice in chains

last movie: honestly??? i can't even remember...i think it was "the rainmaker" it was on tv randomly one day

last series: the walking dead (first watch thru i just started s6)

sweet, savory, salty: hmm salty :D

craving: it's between a burger and fries and like an apple fritter

tea/coffee: both!!!! LOVE my iced coffees i drink them everyday but i love my iced teas too i can't live without them </3

currently working on: college assignments and part two of a fanfic series

i'm tagging - @dilf-luvr-4evr @frillydolle @dollaches @maggierheesgirl @soldateins @tinysunshine @bruiisedfawn @bunniiebabi + anyone else that wants to do it <3

Nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you @shortace for the tag

Favourite colour: green

Currently reading: The Bones Beneath My Skin by TJ Klune and Rivals by Jilly Cooper

Last Song: Wait For It from Hamilton

Last Movie: I Saw The TV Glow (again)

Last series: on a Phineas and Ferb rewatch

Sweet, savory, salty: sweet. But not too sweet.

Craving: choc chip cookies (luckily I have some downstairs)

Tea/coffee: coffee. As black as my soul

Currently working on: much good omens fanfiction. So much.

Tagging: @funky-disco-demon @starks-kid @sweet-omens-good-hugs @turtlenec-crowley @snognes @reese-the-usc-girl @reggie-moony @rjcee-art @snek-of-eden

[vandme12]

Ronin w a reader that's secretly a killer and kills people by stitching their skin from inside to outside and they just let them die there because they know they will die by hypothermia?? Also needs the server's reaction!!

“A devil’s love deserves a devil’s gift, doesn’t it?”

That’s the thought dancing through your mind as you pull the needle through your latest canvas—skin slick with blood, trembling under your hands. The poor bastard beneath you is still alive, gagged and whimpering as you thread the coarse black twine through their flesh. Inside to outside. Over and over. Skin twisted backwards like a grotesque piece of origami, their body losing heat with every second.

You don’t rush. No, you take your time. This isn’t about the kill—it’s about the art. About watching how long they squirm as their body fails them. Cold creeping in. Blood congealing. Skin stretched taut, exposed in all the wrong places.

It’s a slow death. And you like it slow.

By the time they stop twitching, you’re already thinking of him—your boyfriend, if that’s what you’d call a devil who grins while breaking bones. Ronin’s been feeding you bits of his chaos for months, but he has no idea what you’ve been up to. Not yet. You’ve played the part of his sweet little writer—curious, twisted, but not too twisted.

He underestimates you. And you’re going to change that.

It starts with a photo.

You, kneeling beside your masterpiece. Their arms are stitched across their back like a human corset. Skin flayed in layers, a rose of flesh blooming from their ribcage. The alley is freezing tonight—you made sure of it. Left them out long enough for their body to betray them while you stitched. By the time they died, it was hypothermia that did the final work. Such a gentle death, really.

You angle the photo perfectly—just enough blood, just enough horror. And, of course, the final touch: a hand-stitched heart carved delicately into their chest. For him.

You hit send.

goreboy: holy fucking shit goreboy: that’s not a stock photo, is it, baby? you: Wouldn’t you like to know? ♥️

His typing bubble flickers for a full minute. He’s thinking. Processing. You wonder if he’s hard. He probably is.

goreboy: i swear if this is real, ‘m gonna propose right fuckin’ now you: Keep talking like that and I might make you a matching one.

It takes less than ten minutes for Ronin to summon you to Purgatory—his favorite little slice of hell. And when you get there, he’s waiting.

Blood already stains his hands. There’s a body at his feet—limp, broken—but his attention isn’t on the corpse. It’s on you. His black-hole eyes devour every inch of you as you saunter toward him.

“You didn’t tell me you had a hobby,” he drawls, voice syrup-sweet.

“You never asked.”

Ronin’s fingers curl under your chin, tilting your head back. “You’re full’a secrets, huh? And here I was, thinkin’ I’d broken ya open already.”

“I don’t break easy.” You smirk. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”

His laugh is low, wicked. “Guess I gotta work harder.” His mouth brushes against your ear. “But first—tell me, darlin’… how long did that poor bastard last?”

“Long enough to make it fun.”

A groan escapes him—pure fucking delight. “God, I knew there was something rotten inside you. But this?” He leans back, drinking you in. “This is my kinda love letter.”

And just like that, you know you’ve got him. Hooked. Obsessed. You’ve always belonged to him—but now, he belongs to you too.

Naturally, #killer_shit erupts the second you drop the photo.

goreboy: hey, losers goreboy: y’all better bow the fuck down, my girl’s got hands you: Hypothermia’s a bitch. Who knew?

angel: wait. wait. WAIT. angel: BABY GIRL, THIS IS YOUR WORK?? you: 😘

misaki: hold the fuck up—since when do YOU kill??

goreboy: since always, apparently. goreboy: and none of y’all bitches noticed. tragic.

angel: no bc I’m actually obsessed. The stitching?? Inside-out?? That’s some haute couture murder.

vince: jesus. You’re really one of us, huh?

you: What can I say? Peer pressure’s a bitch.

v: Efficient. No wasted resources. I approve.

Of course V would appreciate the method. Practical bastard.

luca: ok but like. HOW cold does it gotta be for someone to freeze like that??

you: Zero degrees Celsius. Give or take. The trick is keeping them exposed—skin loses heat faster. 😉

goreboy: fuck, baby. look at you. Educating the masses.

felicite: (respectfully) I’m terrified of you.

you: Good. You should be.

The messages keep rolling in—praise, shock, twisted fascination. But Ronin? Oh, he’s on a whole other level. You feel his hands before you hear his voice—curling around your waist, pulling you flush against his blood-smeared chest.

“Y’know what this means, don’tcha?” he murmurs.

“What?”

His teeth scrape against your throat, dangerously close to a bite. “Means we gotta do somethin’ bigger. Better. Together.”

You shiver—part fear, part desire. “Planning a couples’ murder spree, Ronin?”

“Damn right I am,” he growls. “Ain’t no one else I’d wanna paint the town red with. ‘Specially not after this.” His fingers trace a slow circle against your pulse. “I gotta know, though… was it fun?”

A smile curls on your lips. “More fun than I expected.”

Ronin’s laughter is downright sinful. “I knew it. Knew you were one of us deep down. My dirty little secret.”

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” you remind him.

“And thank fuck for that.” His hand tightens at your waist. “But baby… next time? You let me watch.”

“Only if you’re good,” you tease.

He groans, dragging you against him like he can’t stand the thought of letting go. “I’m always good, sugar. Ain’t that what you love about me?”

It is.

And as you kiss him—blood and lust tangling on your tongues—you realize you’ve crossed a line you can never come back from.

But why would you want to?

Later that night, another body hits the chat.

goreboy: date night went well you: teamwork makes the dream work ♥️

The chat goes wild. Angel threatens to propose. Misaki demands a full play-by-play. Luca jokes about how you two should start a murder-themed podcast. Even V—stoic, detached V—admits the precision is impressive.

But none of their reactions matter. Not really.

Because in the end, there’s only him.

And now, he knows the truth.

You’re not his sweet little writer anymore.

You’re something much, much worse.

And he loves you for it.

[deedala]

weekly tag wednesday (on thursday)

thanks for tagging me to play @jrooc @kiennilove @energievie @gallapiech @crossmydna @lazystargazy @jessij1997 @sgtmickeyslaughter @nozenfordaddy @nenekestis !! ✨

today we're gonna be talkin' ragrets. All those shoulda, woulda and coulda's!

First.. the basics:

Name: deanna

Popular music/band/artist while you were in highschool: i dont know who was popular i only had eyes for dave matthews band

Okay.. let's get into it…

What's one thing you wish you'd known when you were younger? future lottery numbers

What is a course or certification you wish you'd done? some sort of degree in computers instead of studio art

What's a style you wish you'd never rocked? trying to channel scully's fbi chic didnt work on an awkward teenager

What's a style you totally killed? mens boxers as shorts ig?

Do you still wear it? sometimes as pajamas!

Favorite pair of shoes you've ever owned: any of my cozy comfy slide on boots including but not limited to the ones that were actually ugg brand (oohh nooo are they ugly?????? i dont give a fuck)

Have you ever worn heels? Do you regret it? Do you wish you had tried to wear heels? Do you think heels are the devil? What are heels--Jess stop saying that word: yes. no. n/a. no. that last one feels rhetorical...

Name one bucket list item? go to a blue jays game and see them win

What's something you would do if you could step outside all your insecurities/fears today? sell all the shit i have sitting in my garage that i need to sell

Is there another language you wish you learnt? dutch

What's something you've done to your hair that you look back on and cringe? mint green is my fav color but boy fuckin howdy it looked bad on me

Okay last one.. what's a real regret? not trying to bang john mayer when i had the chance because that would have been a really good story

tags below the cut ✨

@michellemisfit @suzy-queued @too-schoolforcool @gardenerian @creepkinginc @palepinkgoat @blue-disco-lights @callivich @gallawitchxx @salesmain @spoonfulstar @echotrees @mmmichyyy @the-rat-wins @loftec @wehangout @femboymilkovich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @heymrspatel @darlingian @ian-galagher @sam-loves-seb @rereadanon @catgrassplantdad @byravenheart @gallavich-annise @doshiart @lingy910y @geonbaeeeesblog @spookygingerr @transmickey @vintagelacerosette @iansw0rld @softmick @francesrose3 @captainjowl @c-nord @burninface @mybrainismelted @thepupperino

[advantage-artrick]

i probably think about art coming in his pants at least fifty times a day. . . i really wish that was a joke.

it's gotten so bad that one of my favorite pastimes now is making a list of things i just know would have him shooting off before he gets his shorts down.

without further ado, here's a small fraction of what i've thought of so far!

CW: lots of nsfw stuff (mdni). nobody takes their pants off, but there's still some grinding, a little choking, mild degradation, very light d/s, and some other unimportant things. proceed with caution, i suppose.

(this post is entirely art x patrick, but if y'all are at all interested in an x reader or an x tashi part two of this list, i can totally make that happen!

also, if you've got anything to add to this one for a second artrick list, i am just dying to hear your ideas lol 💕)

XOXO

• starting off strong with ✨️dry humping✨️. i feel like this requires no explanation, but i'm going to give one anyway.

when art and patrick make out, it's never planned. or at least, it's not until after the challenger. pre-stanford (and maybe a few times at stanford), if they make out it's because they're drunk, high, exhausted, or just generally not in their right minds.

because of this, it's always messy and desperate and painfully uncoordinated, which is a winding road that- no matter which way they turn- always leads back to filthy, ankles-around-the-waist grinding. grinding that looks a lot like they're trying to fuck each other through their nicest party jeans.

while they have yet to attempt this feat successfully, they aren't ever gonna give up, because they just know that once art manages to last longer than four minutes, there's no telling what they'll be able to accomplish.

but it really isn't art's fault that he shoots off so quickly when they're kissing on his bed. the feeling of having patrick's tongue in his mouth while his impressively large (and very warm) bulge rubs up against his own is just too much for him to handle. and then he starts moaning, and patrick starts grinding harder, and when he folds art fully in half to rut desperately against his ass, the poor kid doesn't even stand a chance.

he always feels so secure being held down and pretend-fucked by his best friend, but still there's so much electricity running through him that it's impossible for him to relax. it's an electricity that just builds and builds, and he can't take it anymore because patrick's dick is right there, but he can't feel it like he wants to. then he imagines what it would actually feel like without their clothes in the way, and in no time, his unexposed cock is spurting messily in his underwear. it goes on for what feels like forever, leaving an obvious wet spot on the denim as payback for all the chafing friction it inflicted upon him.

he whines and gasps into patrick's mouth the whole time, making it impossible for him to not have noticed. and although it's always going to be embarrassing for him, seeing patrick glance down at the stain with a smirk before leaning back in to kiss him even harder will always be more than worth it.

"you do that every fucking time," patrick laughs, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck that makes art shiver and practically melt beneath him. "it's adorable. my favorite part by far."

"shut up. . . this is the last time we're doing this anyway, so i hope you fucking enjoyed it," art slurs, and there's not even a pinch of real frustration in his voice as patrick bites down softly on his collarbone.

art frowns, but he tilts his head to the side anyway to give patrick more room to work. he must be even drunker than he thought to let him keep going when he's already gotten off.

well, to even be doing this in the first place, he already knows he's hammered.

"uhuh, i'm sure," patrick responds, smiling deviously against art's pale, overheated skin. "you know, you say that every time too."

• alright, next up we got ✨️wrestling✨️.

of all of these examples, this is the one that i imagine happens at the most inopportune times. meaning, when they're fully sober and often at the gym or fucking around on the court after practice.

when art and patrick really get into it enough to start tackling each other, it's usually art who provokes it and patrick who initiates.

art likes to make fun of his roommate for being stupid and dirty minded, and for having the most eccentric serve known to mankind. he can get pretty ruthless with his words sometimes, but there are never any hard feelings because patrick knows he loves him.

sometimes patrick retaliates by calling art short (even though he's only got an inch on him) or prudish or nerdy, but that's not nearly as much fun as snatching art's hat off his head. . . or his phone from his hands, or his favorite tennis ball from the air when he tosses it.

it's not even close to as fun, actually, so that's what he does a good majority of the time.

needless to say, art still hasn't quite accepted that he is incapable of stealing anything back once it ends up in patrick's obnoxiously quick hands. because of this, he always gives his all into retrieving it, chasing his best friend around the court and tackling him to the ground when patrick lets him catch up.

within a few seconds, they're a mess of limbs on the ground, hands pushing and pulling anything they can reach in an attempt to pin the other ones' down.

it's never long before whatever patrick stole is discarded and forgotten on the ground beside them. no matter why they started the match, the only true goal once they get going is to not be the first to tap out.

patrick always wins in the end, but never without a struggle, which is why he only wins once art is face down on the ground, groaning with his arms pinned tightly behind his back.

usually patrick sits on him at that point, squeezing his waist with his thighs to keep him from getting up. sometimes he leans down close to his ear and huffs, "take it back, donaldson. i'm not getting up until you take it back."

art whimpers, unsure if it's from the stretch of his muscles or the hard press of his boner against the concrete.

"fuck you," he responds, whining again when patrick twists his arms harder. "fuck, stop it. you win! you win, pat, just stop. please."

but patrick ignores him, laughing at his weak attempts to throw him off.

"nuh-uh, not until you take it back," patrick says again, grinning. "as a matter of fact, i think i want you to apologize. yeah, that sounds more like it. i'll get off when you say you're sorry, and that you love me very much," he mocks, leaning down again to wrap his arm around art's neck in a chokehold while the other holds on tight to his wrists.

art groans again, struggling to take a deep breath from how tight patrick's arm is around his throat. his face feels so hot, and his dick just keeps getting harder, and he almost wants to keep fighting just so he doesn't have to look him in the eyes like this.

"say it," patrick growls, his bicep constricting even more, and art's giving in without even consciously deciding to.

"Fuck, i love you. i love you, i love you so much, please get off," he babbles, and just speaking the words out loud is apparently too much for him in that state.

before patrick can even roll off of his back, he's coming, crying out embarrassingly loudly as he shakes through it. when he comes to about a minute later, patrick's sitting on the ground beside him, just staring.

his face is pink, and his legs are pulled up to his chest so that his crotch is fully hidden from view. he's breathing pretty heavily too, but that could've just been from the exertion of their little tussle.

"you, uh, okay?" he asks quietly after a moment, not sure what exactly he's supposed to do in a situation like this.

art looks back down at the ground, pushing up slightly onto his arms. he doesn't want to stand up, unsure of what the damage would be if he did.

he has hot, humiliated tears in his eyes, and he's so sure that he's just fucked things up between them permanently. i mean, what kind of best friend orgasms because of a little playful choking?

"it's okay, dude. we can. . . we can stay here for a minute," patrick says in response to his silence, cutting through art's anxious thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

slowly, patrick stretches his legs back out, revealing the obscenely tented crotch of his loose tennis shorts.

"i don't really wanna join your walk of shame."

art blushes further, unable to tear his eyes away. it just looks so. . . developed, like he's been hard for a while at this point. art swears for a second there that he even saw it pulsing angrily through the fabric.

"oh. . ." he mumbles, glancing back up at patrick's face uncomfortably. he looks like he wants to ask about it, so patrick tosses an explanation out before he gets the chance to.

"you moan like a girl when you come," he jokes, grinning shyly to test the waters.

"do not!" art whines, finally finding the strength to stand up, and his soaked crotch is right in patrick's face before he remembers where they are and sits back down so fast he hurts his tailbone.

it looks bad. fuck, it looks really, really bad. there's so much it looks like he pissed himself, and they both saw that it had leaked very noticeably onto the court. he'd have to remember to rinse that with his water bottle before they left.

"holy fuck, dude," patrick gasps, trying to forget what he just saw before the image is permanently seared into his brain. "that's. . . wow."

"oh, shut up! this is all your fault, anyway."

patrick just smiles at him warmly, an unreadable expression behind his eyes.

"i know."

• last but not least, we have ✨️massages✨️.

i'm sure it's not uncommon for patrick and art to complain to each other about muscle aches and knots they can't get rid of in their backs. it's just something that comes with tennis being their only hobby and probably future career.

they spend so much time training and practicing, and since they're still so young and reckless, they haven't quite gotten in the habit of stretching like they're supposed to.

because of this, patrick can't seem to pay art a visit without having to watch him wince and hiss every time he moves his arms a certain way. even worse, art always brushes off his concerns like he's not clearly in pain when patrick asks if he's alright. it's insufferable.

"that's it. get your ass on the bed," patrick orders when he's still refusing to admit it the day before patrick has to leave.

it's a ritual at this point. it happens every single visit, at the same exact time, and in the same exact way.

art sighs, not putting up much of a fight since he knows his best friend won't take no for an answer. they've both already got their shirts off, so it would be all too easy for them to get him fixed up anyway.

he sits cross-legged in the center of his mattress, pouting while patrick settles down behind him.

"tell me where it hurts," patrick commands again, ignoring art's petulant frown. "i mean it, art. i know you're too stubborn to get it checked out and i am not leaving until you tell me."

"my shoulder," he mumbles after a moment, gasping when patrick immediately settles his hand right over the muscle that's been bothering him.

"right here, right? yeah, that spot's a bitch to get rid of," he comments, slowly adding more pressure until art is crying out softly in pain.

"oh hush, you baby," patrick mumbles, feeling around the area with his fingers. "i've barely even touched you."

art bites his lip to keep from making any more embarrassing sounds. he inhales sharply when patrick digs into the muscle hard with his thumbs.

gradually, he begins massaging his shoulder just like one of their coaches taught him to, rubbing the knot in tight little circles to loosen it up a bit.

art lasts less than half a minute before he's crying out again, trying to pull away from the prying fingers. patrick holds him in place easily, and art can sense the way he's trying not to laugh.

patrick just scoots in closer to him, pressing his toned stomach against art's back as he continues to work at his tense shoulder.

"you're okay, art. just let me help you, yeah?" he hums in his ear, sweetly condescending like he's talking to a toddler with a scraped knee.

"that's it, you're doing great."

art can sense distantly that he's being made fun of, but the words still make his cheeks flush and his dick hard in a matter of seconds. plus, the feeling of patrick's hot skin against his own is not helping in the slightest.

he whines when patrick hits a particularly sensitive spot, but he doesn't try to get away again. he knows the attempt would be futile. at this point, he's just focused on trying to find ways to keep his torturer from spotting his obvious hard-on.

"is it starting to feel okay?" patrick asks softly, wanting to make sure his treatment is actually working.

oh, if only he knew.

"yeah, fuck," art whimpers, the feeling of patrick's hands on him searing like they're branding his skin. "it's better, i think."

patrick laughs, digging in harder until art is almost writhing in his grasp.

"better isn't good enough, art. you're not getting out of this that easy," he says, and he keeps on going for a painfully long time.

the whole time he works, he's talking, making it impossible for art to get his fucking boner to go down. with the way patrick sits slightly taller than him, art keeps thinking there's no way he hasn't noticed by now. but neither of them dare to mention it.

"you're doing so good. just a little longer," patrick whispers, and art swears he must be doing it on purpose.

at some point the pain turns to relief which turns into pleasure, and all of a sudden he's biting his lip for an entirely different reason.

"yeah, there we go. that's it," patrick grins when art lets a little moan slip out by accident. "i told you i'd take care of you, didn't i?"

art moans again, leaning back into him involuntarily, and patrick takes it as an invitation to let his hands travel elsewhere.

now he's massaging art's other shoulder, and his sides and his lower back, and art's eyes are rolling back in his head because it just feels so good. not even because patrick is a particularly talented masseuse. it's just because he's patrick.

and his hands are so big and warm, and he's still fucking talking, telling art how good he was for him, and all of a sudden art's coming entirely untouched.

and patrick just watches it happen. he watches him whine and shake and he watches his eyelashes flutter uncontrollably, and he doesn't slow his hands down for even a second while art's breathing through the aftershocks.

he just watches, and when it's over he rests his head on art's now healed shoulder and just whispers, "don't worry, baby. thats perfectly normal. happens to the best of us, alright?"

and art just nods robotically, watching it leak from the leg of his boxers in shame.

'it's okay,' he thinks, his brain still fuzzy from the sudden orgasm. 'it's normal. . . it's not cuz' he said i was good. . . it's not.'

okay, that's it! part two, anyone?

XOXO ✨️💕

[wisteria-lodge]

The cursed job is one of my favorite examples of HP worldbuilding, developing. In book one, Quirrell is described:

“Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience. . . . They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o’ trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject — now, where’s me umbrella?”

"Scared of his own subject" means scared of the subject Hagrid knows he teaches, and was "studying out of books" before he went to get some practical experience with dark creatures. Like he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. That's why he took a defense-themed sabbatical. I know JKR has said in interviews that he Quirrell only spent that one year teaching DADA, and before that taught muggle studies, but that's a ret-con that really only raises more questions. Also it would have Voldemort like... double cursing himself in Book 1, which is kind of funny. Like your health's pretty delicate, just let Quirrell teach Muggle Studies.

In Book 2 it's - "People [are] startin’ ter think it’s jinxed. No one’s lasted long fer a while now." (versus the 'one year or less' deadline we eventually land on. Like I think if there were 25+ DADA profs, people wouldn't be *starting* to think anything)

In Book 3 there are "rumors that the job was jinxed"

In Book 5 Fred and George talk about "what’s happened to the last four [DADA professors]." (when they should have been there to see six come and go, if they really do only last a year.)

It's only in Book 6 where we get the curse's final form. “That job’s jinxed. No one’s lasted more than a year. [said Harry]" Confirmed later on by Dumbledore, who says "You see, we have never been able to keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort."

And all I can say is that, when I wrote "I get the sense that in the text, Snape’s tragic backstory is not meant to explain his bad behavior so much as it is meant to excuse it," what I mean is - his backstory absolutely does get into/explain why he acts the way he does around Lupin, Harry, Dumbledore, and it definitely makes some of the actions he takes make more sense. (Like staying at Hogwarts.) But it doesn't go far enough for me. Harry, okay I'll buy that, but why does he bully Neville, and the others. The narrative just moves on from that, and it's not like we have a moment later on when Neville connects his experiences in class to how Snape runs the castle as headmaster or something.

This is why I do think there's a bit of a short-cut aspect to Snape's backstory. I get it, JKR didn't have the space to do a deep dive on the psychology of why Snape bullies his students, so instead - she goes broad strokes. He had a tough childhood... and you know, his heart was in the right place the whole time. Which at least to me, falls more into the category of excusing, without explaining.

Since you’ve talked about Molly and Draco, can you talk about Snape as well? When you said that there was a disconnect with Snape’s character I honestly wasn’t sure if you meant the audience was supposed to like him more or less than they actually do.

This is a complicated one, because Book 1-3 Snape and Book 5-7 Snape are written so differently that I actually want to talk about them as two separate characters. 

Book 1-3 Snape… kind of sucks. Maybe he sucks in a way you find funny (which I completely get. A lot of comedy - especially British comedy - revolves around finding the humor in really *mean* people. Snape is *written* to be funny in a dry, acerbic, Roald Dahl kind of way.) But maybe Snape sucks in a way that’s not fun for you, he’s just upsetting and cruel. Either way, he’s petty, unfair, a bully, completely unreasonable, and doesn’t really appear to have any redeeming qualities. Snape protects Harry in Book 1 only because James Potter saved his life and, according to Dumbledore:  

“Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt. . . . I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace. . . .” 

Later on, Snape’s motivation will become “Protect Harry because you couldn’t protect Lily.” But there’s no hint of that here.

I actually think it’s very likely that ‘Snape was in love with Lily’ is a plotline added during Book 4, because 1-3 Snape’s motivation is so completely focused on JAMES. He hates Harry because he looks like James, he hates James because (according to Lupin) he’s “jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch field.” Within the context of the series it’s easy to say that Lupin is lying, and with good reason… but in the context of the first three books, I think that’s just meant to be true? Snape, as we know, is a stealth quidditch hooligan the way McGonagall is. Also… James’ characterization shifts around. He’s not a bully in the first three books, he’s Head Boy… and that Head Boy thing doesn’t quite gel with what we hear from Sirius later: 

“No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”

(I know JKR plans things out in advance, but she absolutely does change things on the fly. Arthur Weasley not getting killed by Nagini is an easy example that we definitely know about. And come on - the entire last book is a Deathly Hallows fetch-quest. Was there really no way to slip in a reference to Beedle the Bard - or a super-powerful semi-mythical wand - anywhere in the first six books?) 

So, in books 1-3, there's no hint that Snape is a potion prodigy, particularly powerful, or even particularly clever. He wrote a logic puzzle and “knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts.” But that’s it. “Potion Master” isn’t an advanced rank, it’s just the posh British boarding school way of saying “teacher.” (Like headmaster = head teacher.) Early Snape is also a lot more *emotional* than he is later on, when his ability to “Master yourself!... control your anger, discipline your mind!” becomes extremely plot relevant. Like, can you picture 5-7 Snape (or Alan Rickman, who plays a distinctly later-books Snape) doing any of this? 

Snape was beside himself. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”  “Professor Snape!” shrieked Madam Pomfrey. “Control yourself!”  “See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —”  “THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.  “Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”  “YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —”

In Movie 3, Snape gets a cool protective moment where he shoves the kids behind him during the werewolf attack. In Book 3, Snape is unconscious during the entire werewolf attack because Harry, Ron and Hermione simultaneously decide he’s too dangerous, and too much of a liability to keep around. Here are are some bangers from Book 3 Snape: 

- “Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works.”   - “KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!” Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” - “Up to the castle?... I don’t think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay. . . .”  - “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a Kiss for him too —”

If you sort of squint you can maybe say - okay, maybe this is a PTSD response. Like I’m writing a Snape POV fic right now, you can make it work. But it’s not work the books do for you, and it’s not the characterization choice they make in the films. 

BUT. Snape goes through a little bit of a revamp/retcon in Book 4. It’s totally deliberate - he’s Book 1-3 Snape at the beginning, then he basically vanishes from the narrative… the reader kind of forgets about him…  until it comes up during Karkaroff’s trial that Dumbledore ABSOLUTELY trusts him, even though he was a Death Eater. So now when Snape turns up at the climax - he’s a figure of intrigue, and it makes sense that he’s one of the two people Dumbledore brings with him to deal with Barty. Honestly, it’s a pretty cool magic trick. We buy it when - instead of hissing and spitting and hopping around like he does when he confronts Fudge at the end of Book 3 - Book 4 Snape deals with Fudge like this: 

Snape strode forward… pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.  “There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. (...) This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff’s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance.”

Calm, collected, focused. This is a character who you’re supposed to take seriously, a character who you are supposed to respect. 

I think it’s very interesting that after Book 4, we don’t see Snape *bully* the students during class again. He’s strict, and he’s a hard grader, and Harry still thinks he’s unfair, but like… the narrative framing is on his side now. 

“Tell me, Potter,” said Snape softly, “can you read?”  Draco Malfoy laughed.  “Yes, I can,” said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.  “Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.”  Harry squinted at the blackboard(… ) His heart sank. He had not added syrup of hellebore, but had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes.  “Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?” “No,” said Harry very quietly.  “I beg your pardon?” “No,” said Harry, more loudly. “I forgot the hellebore...”  “I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco.” The contents of Harry’s potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron. “Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing.” (...)  “That was really unfair,” said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to Harry  (...) “Yeah, well,” said Harry, glowering at his plate, “since when has Snape ever been fair to me?”

Like he isn’t nice, but he also isn’t asking Harry questions he can’t possibly know the answers to, threatening to kill someone’s pet, or calling Hermione ugly. He didn’t even take away house points. And - during the next lesson, we are told that the approach Snape took with Harry actually worked?

Determined not to give Snape an excuse to fail him this lesson, Harry read and reread every line of the instructions on the blackboard at least three times before acting on them. His Strengthening Solution was not precisely the clear turquoise shade of Hermione’s but it was at least blue rather than pink, like Neville’s, and he delivered a flask of it to Snape’s desk at the end of the lesson with a feeling of mingled defiance and relief. 

I want to do one more close read, on a excerpt from Book 5: 

Harry realized how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match. (...)  Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Harry and Ron and said grimly, “I’ve become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don’t want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time to practice, won’t you?” Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors. When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx.

This has a very similar structure to the sequence when Snape refuses to punish Draco for enlarging Hermione’s teeth. Slytherins and Gryffindors having an altercation, Gryffindor girl gets caught in the crossfire. BUT a few key things have been changed. One - the section is told in second-hand narration, which makes it less emotional than the teeth-scene. Two - the section begins with comparing Snape to McGonagall: she’s being biased/helping out her students too, so it’s only fair if he does it as well. Three - his insult isn’t “Your face has always looked like that,” it’s “You must have messed up a spell,” which is a lot less personal, and a lot less mean. (If anything, Snape is subtly insulting her for casting a cosmetic charm/being too girly… and being a girly-girl is an inherently suspect characteristic in JKR’s world.) Everything about this passage is set up to create a “Snape the Bully” moment… that kind of excuses Snape. 

So, what do we have? There are the people that think Book 1-3 Snape just went too far, and you can soften the narrative framing around him, and you can add in as many tragic backstories as you want, and it doesn’t really matter. THAT is definitely not what JKR wants you to think. She wants to bring you along for the ride, and (as you can tell from the framing) she's started to like Snape a lot.

HOWEVER. I do not think that the fan who likes 5-7 Alan Rickman Snape is… quite seeing the same thing she is. I get the sense that in the text, Snape’s tragic backstory is not meant to *explain* his bad behavior so much as it is meant to *excuse* it. He stays mean and bad-tempered… but he’s allowed to be, both because he is always acting in service to a Good Cause, and because he was abused at home, bullied at school, etc. A big part of why I think JKR likes writing Snape so much (and why she’s so protective of him) is because she finds something cathartic in letting a character be nasty… but for it to be allowed because they’ve suffered, and also because they're in the right. Sadly I think this describes a lot of her current online interactions. 

JKR also loves the idea of *pining.* (It is crazy how long the main characters’ pining/longing/will-they-won’t-they thing in the Cormoran Strike books has lasted.) It’s a very safe kind of romance, and (again, sadly) you can tell from her writing that romance is not generally something that feels safe to her. Snape is sometimes characterized by those who dislike the character as an incel-type who wants to possess Lily, and I just don’t think that’s in the text. If anything it’s the other way around. Snape has some unconsummated, medieval courtly love thing going on, where he has decided to live his life in Lily’s service. 

I wrote about why I think Draco Malfoy (unintentionally) appeals to fans. With Snape…  I actually think a lot of his current (unintentional) appeal comes from the way a softer Snape reframes the narrative into something more complex, and especially the way it reframes Dumbledore. Manipulative/Morally Grey Dumbledore is a *very* popular fan interpretation, and the way you get that is with a sympathetic Severus Snape. 

“You disgust me,” said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little. (...)  “Hide them all, then,” he croaked. “Keep her — them — safe. Please.”  “And what will you give me in return, Severus?”  “In — in return?” Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, “Anything.”

The implications here are really far reaching. Because to me, the main question when it comes to Snape is - why does he STAY at Hogwarts? He clearly hates it, why doesn’t he just leave? If you’re talking about 1-3 Snape, it's because he’s eternally holding out for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, and he’s just kind of a twisted miserable guy who would probably be equally miserable everywhere. 

But books 5-7 add the context that he’s brilliant, he’s brave, he’s principled, he’s got a sense of humor. He seems close with the Malfoys. He has *options.* So now the (unintended?) implication is… he doesn’t leave because Dumbledore won’t let him. The fact that he keeps applying for the DADA job becomes dark and borderline suicidal when we learn it’s cursed, and that Snape knows it’s cursed. If he takes it, he’ll leave (or die) at the end of the year. That means, every year, he’s tacitly asking Dumbledore “Can I leave?” And Dumbledore is answering “No.” 

That’s such an interesting, juicy character dynamic. Snape is being kept miserable on purpose because… he’s easier to control that way? And if that’s true… then oh boy is it sinister that Dumbledore left Harry with the Dursleys. He knew he was raising Harry “like a pig for slaughter” (as Snape puts it.) And if Harry doesn’t have a support system, if he’s miserable, if Dumbledore can swoop in as his savior… then doesn’t that make him so much easier to control? 

[novahreign]

Terry Richmond x Black Fem reader!

Terry and Charlie are back, tackling parenthood. This time it’s the boys. I hope that you enjoy the one shot. Like, comment, and reblog, please!🩵

Terry leaned against the doorway as he admired his wife. Charlie was lying on her stomach with her right leg at an angle-her favorite sleeping position. Her lying like that, always did something to him. Feeling a twitch in his stomach, he placed the tray full of breakfast food, that he made for them on the dresser before climbing on the bed, kissing his way up her back. She moaned, then a smile appeared on her face.

“Wake up beautiful” he took her earlobe between his teeth. “Made you some breakfast.” He kissed her temple before placing his weight on her, the way she liked.

“Terry, why are you waking me up? Where are the kids?”

He pressed soft kisses on her neck, “All at school.”

She nodded her head in response, basking a little bit in the feel of her husband being on top of her. She sighed, tapping her husband,He rolled off of her. Charlie turned over revealing a dark pebbled nipple. Terry nipped at her breast, “Terry” she whined. He smirked “my bad, baby doll. You must be exhausted.”

She was tired but satisfied. Her and Terry had made love to each other throughout the night. After they both were satiated , they let themselves succumb to the rest their bodies needed. That was a few hours ago? Why was he waking her up?”

“I love you for making me breakfast, but I could choke you right now, for waking me up?”

A deep chuckle erupted from behind his lips. “You’re the one, who wanted to get the garage done, on your day off. Last, I checked, that was today. You wanted an early start? So, let’s get it.”

Charlie groaned, “Look! I rather be back inside of you too, but you wanted to do this list so bad, so be frustrated with yourself.”

She smacked her lips, “whatever….Ooooo” she stretched her arms above her head “I’m not recovering well, I don’t think I can do an all nighter.”

“Cause you getting old. Joints, popping and everything.”

She mugged him down “most times you can be the sweetest man and sometimes the rudest.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’ll be alright.”

“You’re lucky, I love you. Kiss me.”

He bent down to do as she requested.

She sat up against the headboard, as he got the tray of food for her. The two joked and laughed with one another while eating their food. She feed him pieces of French toast as she complimented his breakfast. She sucked whip cream off of his finger before removing the sheets with sticky fingers. “I’m gonna go take a shower, then we can get ready to leave.”

**************************************

“You ready?”

“Um hum.”

Charlie had on a simple cropped white tee with her curve hugging jeans, a pair of Nike legends sneakers on her feet. She checked herself in the mirror “Damn, I look good, five kids where?!”

Terry walked up behind her, gripping her lips. “Shit, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. Want to go for six?”

She popped her gum “No. I’m good.”

He laughed “ Damn baby.” Her ass looked fat in those jeans. He gave her two smacks before taking it in his hands.

“You look good too honey.” He was dressed in all black, so simple but so good. “You so fine, Terry.” Twelve years and she loved him more than she did. All those years ago, when the feelings first came to be. “I love you.” She stood on her tip toes to kiss him, he lifted her up by her arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you too.” He placed a lingering kiss on her neck. “Wish we could stay in bed a little longer. Imagine spending the day at home, in bed, all day, man……..”

“Well, if we didn’t have things to do that would be amazing, but…….you know; things need to be done.” He sighed deeply as she tapped his shoulder to be put on the floor.

“Baby, come onnnn” he half whined “no kids, it’ll take nothing for me to undress you, please.”

“Terry, you’re insatiable….Quit,” she swatted at him while giggling as he fiddled with her clothes. “Babe. Stop, we’re going to be late on our errands…Terry, Terry!” She pushed his hands away laughing hard “Self control Richmond, geez. I know you’ve been out of the military for a little bit but remember your training.” She teased.

They just made it inside of Terry’s Grey F250 pick up truck, when her phone rang, her eyebrows scrunched, she looked at her man. “It’s the boys, school.” She connected her phone to the truck and slide the button to the right to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Mrs. Charlotte Richmond?”

Charlotte? So formal, Charlie thought.

“This is she, what did Terrence do?”

It wasn’t that TJ was a bad child but his timing of comebacks, sometimes wasn’t the best.

“I’m not calling about Terrence but Taryn.”

“Tye?!” The shocked parents, looked at one another.

“Yes ma’am…he was involved in a physical altercation.” Charlie didn’t think her eyes could get any wider.

“Oh my gosh.”

Terry whipped the truck around and headed into the direction of the school. Charlie fiddled with her nails nervously. Tye doesn’t fight, was all she could think. He was by far the quietest child she has ever met, when outside of their home and kept to himself, but to hear that he was involved in a fun didn’t sit well with her.

45 minutes later, they had both boys in the car. Apparently some kid was bullying, Tye got tired of the kid messing with him, he took it upon himself and popped him in the mouth. Then word got around that Tye had hit the kid and got hit back, the news didn’t fly with TJ and the kid got hit with a double, right in the face and told him “to never mess with his twin again or you gon get your ass popped again.” The boys were suspended for three days including the other kid but only AFTER Terry raised a little hell.

“Tye. I’m proud of you, old chap.” Tj patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Man, if you don’t sit your as back and put your seat belt on.” Terry told him, giving him a stern look through the review mirror.

Tj, let out a small chuckle before doing what he was told.

“I’m glad that you think this is funny, let’s see how funny, it’s gonna be when you both are helping your daddy clean this garage out and fixing the yard.

“Awweeee” they groaned.

“Awww, is right. Tj, you have completely lost your mind, cussing?! Going up there acting as if me and your daddy didn’t give you any home training, boy-I-oughta..oooo and Tye, I’m so disappointed.”

“Ma, why am I in trouble, I was just defending myself?” Tye genuinely asked

“I understand and I’m proud of you. You need to always defend yourself but you’re suspended. Surely you didn’t think we would give you hi-fives.”

The boys rode along, trying their best not to complain has they stopped from store to store-they were hungry. Finally, three hours later, they had stopped at a chicken spot, before heading back home.

“About time. I’m starving.” Tj said as he got his plate ready

“What you getting excited for? You better pop that lid off that peanut butter and jelly and make yourself a sandwhich.”

The boys were crestfallen. Charlie pressed her face into Terry’s back to keep from laughing.

They watched as their parents fix their plates and ate their food. Terry was making all the sound effects, when he bit into his mash potato and gravy covered chicken strip, following it up with biscuit.

“There’s no way that food tastes that good Dad.” Tye was mugging his father hard.

“How you know. You got a Pb and J, not this hot, crispy, chicken.”

Tj shook his head “y’all wrong for that.”

“No, we’re right for that. Again, nobody told yall to stop fighting.”

Tye threw his hands up, “He was messing with me. I told the teacher and everything-multiple times, that didn’t stop him though. I had no choice but to pop him in his mouth.” He threw himself down in the chair “and I will pop him every time, if it means that he’ll stop messing with me. I just wanted to be let alone.”

Charlie’s eyes started to water “Give the boy his chicken.”

Charlie turned to Tj, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He shrugged “You mess with my twin, you mess with me, socking you in the mouth is nothing.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped “who’s raising you?!”

“Terry and Charlotte Richmond and I’ll say that you’re doing a great job.” He took a bit of his chicken and started dancing.

Charlie and Terry looked at one another “That’s your son!” They pointed to each other.

The twins finished their lunch as Terry gave them the run down of their punishment. Meanwhile, Charlie grabbed her keys and purse. “I’m going to homegoods, then going to get my toes done. You don’t have to pick up Richmond three, I’ll swing by and get them after.” She turned to the boys “ I want the first thing in that list to be done before I get back, you hear me?”

All three of them groaned.

“Babe. Put the potatoes in the oven.” She gave all three of her boys a kiss “love y’all bye.”

“Love you too.”

The door clicked behind her and Terry got his boys attention “She’s gone, now, how about we get a round in on the game?”

Their little eyes lit up and they started cheering.

“Sike! Y’all thought! Get up and let’s this garage cleaned.”

“Awww dadddd.”

Terry laughed as he wrapped his arms around their shoulders “Did yall really think I would disobey my wife. You must be crazy.”

“Scary.” The boys smirked

“Whatever. Let’s get to work.”

They laughed as they walked into the garage.