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so this is why they became guards and not players (affectionate)

Squid Game / 오징어 게임 (2021—) | Season 2 promo | Round and Round (Mingle Song) Dance

Mini pocket-sized pink soldiers 🤲🩷🩷🩷

Something cute and simple hehe for these cutie patooties 🥺 They r so cute ahhh and Netflix definitely knows about this cause the amount of guard videos r coming in a lot 😭 I want to draw them doing silly stuff more now jdjdjdjd 🩷😩

drowning in sentiment

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?" His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern.

The following snippet is meant to serve as the sixth part to my ongoing series featuring Severus/Reader.

word count: 4k | ao3 version

Warnings: non-consensual drugging (amortentia), vomiting, nausea, unconsciousness, sickness, medical fare (think the infirmary, medical recovery processes, etc.)

Disclaimer: I do not support or condone the actions and beliefs of HP’s author in any way whatsoever. I thoroughly believe in fanfiction’s transformative, restorative, and healing power. Therefore, I write HP fanfiction not to encourage the author’s beliefs, but instead to directly challenge and disprove her prejudice; I write to further strengthen, validate, and support minority identities that are harmed by She Who Must Not be Named’s dangerous ideologies. I'm not taking any questions, comments, or criticisms regarding this. Don't like it? Don't read!

It all starts at lunch. At least, that’s your most educated guess. 

You ate your typical meal and drank from your goblet—just like every other lunch. None of these occurrences should’ve been indicative of future turmoil. Yet, hours later, when you find yourself hunched over your desk with tunneling vision, shaking hands, and sweat along your skin, you have to come to terms with the fact that something likely happened at lunch. You’re no Potions expert, but you know the telltale signs of an Amortentia dosage when you see them.

You summon a piece of parchment and grab your quill, writing a quick letter to Severus and handing it to your owl. Your owl lets out a weak chirp, pecking your forehead in evident concern before flying away. Severus will certainly be able to brew the necessary Potions to get the Amortentia out of your system. Ordinarily, you’d simply walk over to his office—but you’re not very confident in your ability to walk at the moment. Indeed, the moment you had gotten up from your desk, you were hit with such an intense wave of dizziness that you fell to the ground. You’ve since managed to move back to rest against the wall behind you, closing your eyes in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the feverish sensation at your core and your blurring vision. 

Meanwhile, Severus is grading papers in his office when he hears an owl tapping at his closed window. He huffs and turns around, tempted to ignore the creature until he recognizes it as yours. The Potions master gets to his feet and opens the window, only for the owl to nearly collide with his chest as it frantically flies at him. Severus frowns and takes the parchment tied to its leg. The message only deepens his frown.

Severus, Apologies for disrupting you. When you get the chance, would you bring me some potions to treat Amortentia dosage? They’re for a student.

Severus stares down at the parchment for a moment longer, unease prickling along his skin. He wonders why you didn’t simply come to his office to ask him in person. Even more troubling is the uncharacteristic slant to your writing. He can’t seem to get rid of the unfounded feeling of dread settling in his chest as he looks at your message. It’s innocuous, and yet… he knows something is wrong. 

Furthermore, if the Potions were for a student, then you’d likely supply their name—after all, Hogwarts faculty are trained to practice ultimate discretion when it comes to the health of their students. Your messy writing and the omission of the student’s information aren’t significant on their own; together, however, they unsettle him. Your owl bats him with a wing, breaking him from his thoughts. Your owl—which is usually quite calm—seems to be stressed, too. Quickly coming to a decision, Severus heads for the door to his office.

And in the time since you first penned the letter, you found yourself falling to the floor. You’re now lying on the ground with your back to the wall—sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your clothes feel extremely constricting and you want nothing more than to run out of your office and find the person who slipped you the potion, the object of your affections, the target of your obsession- 

Suddenly, your office door is nearly thrown off its hinges as it slams against the adjacent wall. You look up at the sudden noise, only to find Severus standing in the doorway, looking truly menacing as he wears a furious expression on his face. “Severus,” you say. You don’t think you manage to successfully hide the relief you feel from your voice, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You don’t have the energy —not when your skin feels like it’s oozing off of you into puddles on the ground. 

Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’re the one who needs the potion,” he states. His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?”

“It didn’t seem pressing at the time.” You choke out, shivering and sweating at the same time. You feel like you’re stuck in quicksand—even a small gesture with your hand feels like an uphill battle against a powerful current. 

“Merlin,” Severus mutters. 

There are tears sliding down your cheeks now. You wipe at your eyes, your hands trembling beyond belief as your vision tunnels and sways around you. The professor leans closer and you flinch, guilt flooding through you when you recognize the instinct.

But Severus doesn’t seem to take offense. He’s staring at you with a clinical gaze, taking in all of your symptoms and evidently developing a plan in his head. He opens the satchel at his side with nimble fingers, grabbing an unfamiliar vial. “Take this,” Severus implores. At your blank stare, he continues. “Don’t make me force you.” The dark expression on his face suggests that he will do exactly that, if necessary. Not wanting to approach death, you bring a shaking hand to the vial. Expecting him to relinquish his grip, you bring the vial to your lips and tilt it back—only to realize that Severus’ hand hasn’t left the vial either, instead moving it to your lips and ensuring you don’t drop it. The potion burns as you swallow it and you cough briefly, shuddering at the awful taste. 

Then a weak, utterly humiliating sound wrenches its way from your lips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. “Severus-” You try to say. Your words are garbled and your tongue feels far too thick to create anything coherent. In one last burst of energy, you try to reach out to him—only to succumb to the darkness creeping along the edges of your vision. 

You wake up in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and, at first, you feel as if you’re a student. Then, the memory of what happened rushes back to you and you’re forced to remember that you’re a professor who was poisoned by a student. The thought unsettles you, so you try to distract yourself by looking around the space. 

To your surprise, Severus is sitting at your bedside, looking entirely unimpressed. The pinched expression on his face looks somewhat painful to maintain, yet his scowl is so deeply-set that it doesn’t even flicker in intensity. You try to avert your eyes, but it’s too late—he’s noticed you’re awake.

“...Hello,” you try. Severus arches a brow. For a long moment, there is nothing but a horribly tense silence that descends across the space. You glance around the Hospital Wing, relieved to find that there aren’t any students present. It’s embarrassing enough for Severus to be here—the last thing you need is for one of your students to be seeing you like this. 

His form is strung together with a silent fury. “What could have possibly possessed you to consume a gift from a student?” Severus eventually seethes. It takes you a few moments to process that accusation. 

“A gift from a student?” You then ask, your voice a little hoarse. You clear your throat before continuing. “Do you really think so little of me? I’m not that foolish.”

Severus stills. “Where do you suspect the potion was, then?” He asks carefully, clearly sensing the implications of your confession. 

“It must’ve been in my goblet during lunch.” You answer. 

Severus’s expression morphs from vicious fury to calculating precision. “That is… even more concerning,” he admits with a stormy expression. “I will speak to the elves about this.” He resolves. 

“Severus, that’s not-” That’s not necessary, you want to say. Except it sort of is. You don’t want anything like this to happen again—you don’t want to feel doubtful or suspicious of the meals in the castle. Severus must sense your thought process, because he continues as if you hadn’t said anything at all. 

“The offender will be expelled,” he asserts easily. “Since they are likely a student.” 

“Expelled?” You choke out, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Sure, you’re unsettled by the whole situation, but you don’t want to completely ruin a child’s future. Preventing them from returning to Hogwarts seems a little extreme. “Severus, expulsion is a little extreme. I don’t want that to happen; we can negotiate something less severe-”

“I don’t remember inquiring about your desires,” Severus states coldly, bringing you back to reality. You once again feel like you’re a student, as you’re coming face to face with the professor’s unflinching authority. You resist the growing urge to shrink back against the pillows at your back. “And need I remind you that administering Amortentia without explicit consent is a felony?” 

“No,” you sigh resignedly. You bring a shaking hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re still struggling to get a handle on everything that happened. It all feels like a blur. “I just… I don’t want to make this a big deal.” 

“This became a big deal when a Hogwarts professor’s life was endangered by a student’s foolish actions,” Severus asserts, raising a brow and challenging you to argue. You remain silent and, once he senses that you won’t voice any dissent, he continues. “Now, tell me who it was.” 

Somehow, that statement is what makes the reality of it all set in. You were so distracted by your symptoms that you didn’t stop to think and internalize the fact that a student was likely the one to do this. Someone in the castle wanted this to happen to you. At the mention of the culprit, dull grey eyes unwittingly come to mind. You’re suddenly hit with a horrible wave of dread and infatuation all at once, as the student’s visage appears in your mind’s eye. Even the thought of uttering their name is enough to summon the taste of bile. Every time you close your eyes, you see their cool gaze and shimmering hair and- 

You’re vomiting into the bowl at your side. When you’re finished, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and place your hands on the mattress, feeling the need to brace yourself. Severus vanishes the evidence of your sickness, which you are thankful for—the smell would not have helped your persistent nausea. He’s patiently waiting for your explanation, and it’s abundantly clear that you’re not going to be able to escape this. 

“Just-” You choke, shaking your head. It all feels like far too much. You take a shuddering breath, pretending not to feel as helpless as you do. Their name feels caught in your throat. A verbal admission is too much for you to handle right now. “Look at me.” You implore the professor. Severus understands quickly, as his eye contact with you quickly turns probing. You try to drop your Occlumency shields and summon the student’s visage to mind, showing Severus rather than telling him. The effort isn’t exactly difficult, given the potion that’s coursing through your veins. If anything, it’s harder not to think about the culprit. 

“Legilimens,” Severus says quietly. For a moment, it feels as if you’ve been plunged into ice water. There’s the faintest sensation of a frigid breeze rifling through your mind. Then, within moments, the professor’s looking away with thinly-veiled fury in his eyes. He seems moments away from walking out the door and interrogating the student, until a cough rips its way out of your throat and his attention is evidently thwarted. 

Severus squints at you before getting to his feet and approaching your bed. He places a hand to your forehead before holding your jaw and looking into your eyes, tilting your head slightly as he evidently looks for lingering effects from the potion. His hands are cool; you have to resist the urge to keep them pressed to your skin, if only because of the boiling feeling running along your skin. “I’ve provided a strict Potions regimen to ensure the Amortentia leaves your system,” Severus explains, his gaze flitting to the parchment on the bedside table. Then he looks at you sternly. “It is imperative that you maintain this regimen.” 

“Okay,” you say, too tired to argue or question him any further. You blink at him dazedly, struggling to clear your vision. The air seems to fall still. “Thank you, Severus.” Severus just nods, his right hand still cradling your jaw. The infirmary descends into a tense—but not uncomfortable—silence. 

There’s some bustling in the corner of the room. “You have another visitor,” Madam Pomfrey says, promptly breaking the strange moment that had been created between Severus and you. Severus leans back and nods at you, before making his departure. You watch him leave with conflicting feelings. 

“Albus,” you greet the headmaster, who walks into the room with a concerned expression.

“How are you faring?” Albus asks, settling at your bedside. 

“I’m fine, thanks to Severus,” you respond honestly. You’ve been better, but without his help, you’d be feeling much worse. 

“He seems worried, the dear boy,” Albus says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He has been on edge since you fell unconscious.” 

“Oh.” You’re not really sure what else to say. Judging by the way Albus is smiling, he’s trying to tell you something. You just don’t know what it is. 

Over the next few days, Severus accompanies you to every meal. He always performs spells to ensure nothing has been tampered with. You want to be thankful for the thought, but at this point, you’re just frustrated that you have to go to such lengths. 

You’re slowly starting to recover. The Potions regimen Severus left you is dwindling down, as you take lower doses with each passing day. But there are still lingering side effects. Your hands still have tremors; your vision still has brief bursts of painful clarity. You still feel a little nauseated when thinking about the student who constructed this charade.  

The paranoia has to be the most debilitating aftereffect of all, though. You’re sure it’s a logical response to a near-death experience, but it’s making things rather inconvenient. Despite all the reassurance you’ve been given—by practically every member of the Hogwarts staff and several Ministry officials—it still doesn’t feel like enough. You still have moments when you can’t even stomach the thought of eating—meal times spent huddled in a corner of your office, shaking as you’re assaulted with the prickling sensation you’ve grown to associate with Amortentia. 

You start to think you’re getting better. But then you get up from your desk late one night, only to crumple to the ground like a broken marionette. You can’t even push yourself up to your feet—instead left to slowly fade away on the floor of your office. You’re commanding your muscles to move but they’re ignoring your demands. Your skin is licked with flames and sweat. Suddenly, your throat feels extremely dry. Your office is spinning around you and, within seconds, you’re slipping into darkness once more. 

There is a cool cloth draped over your forehead when you wake. You stare up at the ceiling, your vision slowly returning to you. You attempt to push yourself up to a sitting position, but the effort is annoyingly difficult. There’s an almost imperceptibly quiet noise of frustration, before you’re being helped up with a hand on your forearm and another at your side. Your breaths are labored once you finally sit up. 

When your vision finally starts to calm down, you find yourself staring into familiar black eyes. “Severus,” you say. Your vision is spinning a little, but not enough for you to miss the irritated furrow to his brows. 

“I distinctly recall ordering you to notify me if any of your symptoms returned,” Severus states flatly. He looks entirely unimpressed. And damn it, now you’re feeling guilty again.

“…I didn’t want to bother you.” It sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. Severus briefly looks to the ceiling, as if wishing for it to swallow him whole and end his life. He seems to be exercising a nearly infinite amount of patience; you can tell by how much time he takes to respond.  

“This is the second time you’ve taken the liberty of making that decision for me,” he says coolly. It’s clear there’s a lot more he wants to say, but he holds his tongue. Instead, Severus scowls and casts a diagnostic spell. “No fever.”

“That’s good.” You say weakly. 

“The dosage must’ve been high,” Severus then says, his brows furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s speaking to you or himself, at this point. “It should be out of your system.” But it’s not, you think. It’s not out of my system, and I’m scared. 

“Severus-”  You try to say. 

“It will fade soon enough,” he states. That’s as close to reassurance as you’re going to get. “Rest. I’ll ensure you’re awake to take your next potion.” He says sincerely. 

And so you rest.

Seeing you in this state unsettles Severus far more than he’d like to admit. He tells himself his concern is of a professional nature and nothing more. He’s concerned for his colleague; and the implications of this Amortentia incident. After all, the bare facts still paint a startling picture: a Hogwarts professor drugged by a student, in the Great Hall during mealtime. The castle has always been regarded as one of the safest places in the wizarding world; yet a staff member has been harmed within its walls. 

Severus expected you to show resistance at the thought of seeking out the culprit; he was surprised, therefore, that you allowed him to sort through your mind in his search. No one has shown him that kind of trust before. Yet you unflinchingly met his eyes, and implored him to look into the depths of your mind. 

Severus did nothing of the sort, of course. He did not want to betray your trust, and so his perusal through your mind was quick and purposeful. The unusually tangled web that structured your thoughts did not escape his notice, of course. He knows you to be a rational person; such disorganization is an indicator of a deeper issue. In your case, it is a sign that the Amortentia hasn’t been completely removed from your system. 

Severus spends an immeasurable amount of time brewing the potions needed for your treatment. Brewing is usually a tranquil experience for him. Yet, today, he’s lost in his thoughts as he prepares ingredients. Fortunately, for a wizard of his expertise, distraction will not truly affect the result. He does seem to be in the lab for longer than usual, but then again, he doesn’t typically have occasion for brewing these particular potions. If everything goes according to plan, Severus will not need to brew any more potions like this for you. 

When he’s finished with the first few doses, Severus breaks away from the lab and returns to his personal quarters. You’re reclined on the sofa, looking exhausted and…vulnerable. Severus tears his eyes away. Truthfully, he has never allowed someone into his quarters before. It’s strange. Severus was convinced he would dislike it—that your presence would feel like an intrusion. But he knew he would be able to care for your symptoms much more effectively if you were near. And somehow, the sight of you manages to alleviate some of his prior concerns. He’d daresay your presence comforts him. 

…Maybe the Amortentia was transferred to him, too. He scoffs at the unlikely thought, but decides to subject himself to a quick diagnostic spell just in case. As Severus suspected, there is nothing wrong. These strange feelings are entirely of his own creation.

You’ve been looking at him with such a trusting gaze throughout this healing process that it makes Sevwerus want to vomit. He immediately wants to roll up his sleeve and force you to take in the warped mark across his forearm, if only to dispel you of the notion that he is in any way deserving of your trust. 

He only averts his eyes from your sleeping form instead, his throat feeling tight. What is it about you that provokes such sentiment within him? Severus shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t have the luxury to contemplate such things at the moment; right now, your health is the priority. 

When he has a moment to breathe, Severus informs Albus of the culprit. It slips his mind, for the briefest of moments, that the headmaster is stubbornly idealistic—and sees the best in everyone. Indeed, he should have expected Albus to provide an alternative method of disciplining the child. 

“Suspension.” Severus states blandly, glaring at the headmaster. “You believe suspension to be a suitable punishment for the unlawful administration of Amortentia.”

“And what would you suggest, Severus?” Albus asks, his eyes twinkling. He’s setting a trap for him. For some reason, unknown to Severus himself, the headmaster wants him to argue. 

“Expulsion, of course.” Severus scoffs. He isn’t sure what the old fool is trying to do here. 

“I can’t imagine your colleague was quite pleased with that suggestion.” Albus remarks, that damned twinkle in his eyes still taunting him. 

“Not at first,” Severus admits with a scoff. “Of course, upon discussing the likelihood of a similar incident occurring, the suggestion was better received.” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I see.” Albus responds. There’s a thin smile on his face. 

“What?” Severus nearly spits. “A professor has been drugged. This is no laughing matter, Albus.”

“Of course not.” Albus says sincerely. “Alas, I fear you are correct. Expulsion would be the wise choice. I shall inform the boy’s parents at once.”

Severus’s jaw clenches in irritation. That was far too easy. Albus is never so easily persuaded; and yet, he conceded without much argument. Just what does the old man have planned? The Potions professor regards him warily. 

“No need to be suspicious, dear boy.” Albus reassures him. The reassurance only makes Severus more suspicious. “I’m only thankful that you have found tolerable company here in the castle.”

Severus glares at him for several moments. His jaw is clenched and his teeth are gritted. “And how is this relevant, exactly?” He manages to spit out.

“It’s merely an observation.” Albus surrenders. He senses Severus is growing tired of this conversation. “And how is our young professor faring?”

“I’m developing an enhanced regimen to eradicate the Amortentia.” Severus responds, thankful for an excuse to talk about something else. “I brought my colleague,” he borrows the words of the headmaster, “to my quarters, to ensure proper adherence to the regimen.”

“Your quarters?” Albus asks lightly. He looks rather pleased with himself. The Potions professor’s wand hand twitches. “That’s rather forward of you, Severus.” Severus’s jaw nearly cracks with how hard he grits his teeth at the remark. Albus is wearing a victorious smile; the Potions professor immediately steels his composure and stares right back at the man. 

After what feels like far too long, the headmaster relents. “Keep me updated, Severus.” Albus remarks, his expression returning to an appropriate concern. 

Severus nods jerkily, before making his escape. He is never quite certain when a conversation with Albus will morph into an interrogation; this time was particularly catastrophic. He takes a few slow breaths as he returns to his quarters. 

Unsurprisingly, you are awake to greet him. Before either of you can descend into empty small talk, you’re breaking through the silence. “You… don’t mind me being here, do you?” You ask, glancing around the room as if realizing your surroundings for the first time. “I can return to my quarters, I’m sure.”

“Given the return of your symptoms, that would be unwise.” Severus says after a moment. It takes him longer than he’d like to formulate a response. “I’m afraid I will have to be… inconvenienced by your presence a bit longer.” Yes, it is truly inconvenient—because you provoke such unusual feelings in him. Every time he sees you in his quarters, he has these horrible urges to embrace… domesticity. It disgusts him. 

“If you insist.” You say hesitantly. Neither of you decide to acknowledge the tension that has settled in the air. Severus promptly returns to asking you about your symptoms, in an attempt to ward off these strange sentiments that spring to mind in your presence.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

endnotes: I feel like Severus is in a perpetual state of disgust: with himself, with the world around him... sigh. he's very fun to write for, though.

I genuinely forgot I wrote this and was so happy to find it in my drafts again. And then a few weeks passed and I forgot about it *again.* When I stumbled upon it again, I was very surprised to find it 99% complete, bahaha.

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you ; and tagging @sir-aadiboii because you sent me an ask about this series!

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

yk i’ve gotten a lot of really weird asks and whatnot, hate comments, whatever, but i can confidently say i’ve never had someone send me a picture of michael cera holding a camera before

we’ve never got the chance to see fred and george in a love context with someone (except maybe from angelina at the ball) what are your thoughts?

man this took me a hot minute, my brain just didn’t want to work

Fred

Can be very forgetful and careless. Sometimes forgets to think before speaking, so inevitably will say something rude to you and make you upset. And forget important dates. But he does feel horrible about it after, apologizes a million times and gets so clingy.

Brags and shows his s/o off A LOT. Always talking about “his girl/boy”. If he wins a friendly quidditch match, he’s saying it’s cuz he had his good luck charm. If you walk into the store, he’ll stop mid convo with a customer like “there’s my girl/boy.”

Loves to annoy you. Literally just makes up random things, especially if you didn’t go to Hogwarts or have magic. Will say it with a straight face too, then look down at you and smile when you figure it out.

Has a matching bracelet with you, perhaps like a piece of twine he wrapped around d your wrist then made himself one. Likes to have something that reminds him of you and vice versa.

Sometimes doesn’t think before he acts, so if there is a perceived slight, he will ignore you and sit in that feeling. Can be known to speak before thinking as well, is also very quick to anger, and takes a while to calm down. He’s kind of like a boiled pot, it will spill over if not taken care of.

George

Really good at remembering what you said, keeps a list of things you’ve mentioned wanting so he can get you a gift you’ll want. But he can get really absorbed in making new products for the store, so if he forgets he legit beats himself up over it. Will make it up to you.

A little more private about his love, he still brags but he’s not shouting it out all the time. He talks about his partner A LOT. When he writes to his mom he loves to talk about your achievements. He’s so proud of what you accomplish.

Loves to mess with you. His favorite is hiding a figurine or trinket through out the house and waiting until you find it.

Loves to point out two objects or animals and say “that’s us.” Like sure babe, we are those two worms.

Will ignore you, just locks himself in this office when he’s upset and work. Is capable of communicating this, but it depends on how upset he is. This doesn’t really last long though, maybe a few hours at most. He’s not someone who will say something they don’t mean in a heated moment, so if he says something very rude he probably means it, but he tries to communicate multiple times before coming to verbal blows.

❄️CHRISTMAS HP HEADCANON PARTY❄️

James and Oliver Phelps doing some cake arts n crafts 🧁

12/27/2024

Double Dutch

The twins walk in on you as you talk about your stupid, fit neighbor. Wonder who that is.

George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, fred lives stfu, harry potter lore noob, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a continuation to Sweets & Sweeties but both can be read individually for the most part. GUYS IDK MUCH ABOUT HARRY POTTER LORE SO PLEASE KEEP CALLING ME OUT IF YOU NEED TO COS WHAT DO YOU MEAN I THERES AN UNLOCKING SPELL HAHAHAHAHAH | cross posted on ao3

"And they didn't just use Alohomora?"

You giggle as you momentarily lean on your mop to turn to your phone, "that's what I'm saying!"

Your friend snorts from the other side of the line.

"But," you continue mopping, "to be fair, even I didn't think of it in the moment. I was just glad they helped me get back in my shop when it felt like I'd be locked in forever."

Your friend groans, "you can be so dramatic. Why would you be locked forever from your shop?"

"Stop it. I was seriously debating throwing rocks at my window to get in."

"Wow," your friend laughs, just as the bell on your front door rings, "you're just as stupid as your neighbor."

You look over your shoulder mid-mopping, "sorry, shop's not..."

You grip your mop tightly as the tall man raises a hand, "mornin'."

"... open yet."

His smirk is lopsided as he raises a brow, "not even for your stupid neighbor?"

Your stomach drops and blood rushes up your neck.

"Bloody hell," your friend's voice on loud speaker reverberates in your empty bake shop, "did your fit neighbor walk in?"

The said man chuckles and you nearly whack your phone with your mop. You quickly end the call and grit your teeth in embarrassment, unable to turn back to the red haired man that was laughing yet again.

"Fit neighbor, huh?"

You clear your throat as you decide to put a brave face on and feign ignorance. You turn to him with a dramatic hair flip and shrug.

Fred or George Weasely smiles then hums, crossing his arms. Which one he was, you couldn't tell. "Glad to know you find me fit, love."

"I-" you clear your throat, "that wasn't about you."

His brows quirk and his lips part. He scoffs in offence but his smile is still visible, "don't tell me you think I'm stupid and brother's fit." He walks over, shaking his head, clicking his tongue, "you have terrible taste in men."

You snort to mask the feel of your face burning, then pretend mopping is more exciting you really think it is, "I-" you clear your throat as you clean the tiles in front of your cake display, "don't even know which one you are."

The sheer dramatics of his gasp forces you to look back at him. The Weasley has a fist on his chest, pretending he was stabbed. He grunts in faux pain, "you're telling me I look exactly like Fred?" He rests the back of his hand on his forehead and turns away, "the horrors."

The laugh he pulls out from you is dangerous. It's full and giddy. It's more than amusement, it's full blown endearment that makes your belly roll. You stifle your laughter with your sleeve, feeling warmth linger on your cheeks. Your heart races as he, as George, saunters in front of you, hands smoothly sliding into his pockets. He tilts his head with a sigh, "might have to get even for that terrible remark, my..." he looks around the shop, "sweet neighbor."

You look up at him, pursing your lips to withhold your smile. You shrug, "I doubt a boy named Georgie can do so much damage."

He snorts and shakes his head, "cheeky bugger."

You tense when he leans forward.

"Did you just dare me to do you some damage, sweetheart?"

You open your mouth, but a strangled gasp is all that leaves you because he places his hands atop yours as he takes your mop from you.

"I feel like you don't need anymore damage, considering you did just break a mug."

You stare at him as he haphazardly starts mopping around. Your belly reacts to how he circles around the mop and shoots you a grin. You gulp, "how did you know I broke a mug?"

"Pfft," he scoffs, straightening up, resting his elbow on the top of the mop. Damn, he was tall. "I heard it break. Why do you think I came over here? To check on you!"

Your brows furrow as he puts the mop aside, "how'd you know it was a mug though?"

Georgie shrugs, "well, cause I'm a genius."

You give him a look.

He mirrors your look, then slowly begins to lean forward again, "d'ya want me to prove it?"

Your heart races as you slowly lean back, "w-what? No?"

"Wicked," he grins, straightening up, "you think I'm a genius, do ya?"

"W-What?"

"I just called myself a genius and you agreed," he puts his hands in his pockets and moves towards your cake display. He points, "that looks really good."

You compose yourself by brushing your hair back, "shop's not open yet, genius."

Georgie turns to you with a grin. He breaks into a chuckle, "why not?"

"I'm still cleaning."

He looks around the room and pulls out his wand from his pocket, "I-"

"No!" you raise your hands, "I like cleaning!"

He lowers his wand.

"I don't have anything to do before opening, and cleaning, you know..." you trail off and look away.

"No, I don't actually," he tilts his head in interest, "cleaning what?"

You shrug as you look back at him, "it gives me something to do."

He purses his lips and raises his brows, "wouldn't you rather do something fun?"

You chuckle and shake your head, "that's easy for you to say. You own Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

Georgie shakes his head and raises his hands, "that's ex-"

"And you have your twin brother."

"... so?"

"You have someone to have fun with. I bet you never get homesick at all."

"Oh," he lowers his hands, "distraction for the loneliness, is it?"

You purse your lips and shrug, "yeah."

He offers you a soft smile, "I'm not a genius actually," he points his thumb over his shoulder, "your broken mug pieces are on your counter."

You turn to said object and counter, feeling bashful that you forgot about it, "oh, that's-"

"And I didn't come here because I heard you break it," he buzzes his lips then rubs his ear, "I don't think my ears are good enough for that."

You raise your brows, "I mean, I figured. I don't think anyone's ears are good enough for that."

"I did come here because I wanted to spend time with you."

You freeze.

"Want," he corrects, "I want to."

You feel blood rush up your face.

"That is," he motions vaguely and shrugs, "only if you want to take back what you said about me being the stupid one and Fred being the fit one."

"You think I'm fit?"

You both turn to the front door, only realizing now the bell had rung. Your face was burning, "I-"

"This isn't about you!"

Fred walks in, "oh, ho, ho, I do beg to differ."

Overwhelmed by the two Weasley men who begin to bicker in front of you, you step back unable to do anything but watch for a moment. That is until George says:

"No, I told you I think she's cute."

Fred scoffs, "I totally said she was cute first!"

"Keep lying, you liar."

"I literally told you the moment she w—"

"SHOP'S STILL CLOSED!" you blurt, making them turn to you. You gulp as they turn to you, and exaggeratedly clear your throat, "though I appreciate you both," cough, "think I'm cute, I have to prepare things."

"What things?" they ask in unison.

You stutter, "t-things!"

"I can help," they say at once, turning to each other, "Jinx. Double jinx. TRIPLE J-"

"GET OUT!" you point to the door, "respectfully."

The twins visibly deflate. George smacks Fred on the chest, "this is all your fault."

"Mine?" Fred scoffs, "you're the one that-"

You cut their bickering off short by pushing them towards the door. They begin to protest but do not try to overpower you to stay inside. You huff once you manage to kick them out and wave them goodbye.

"I thought we could drop by at any time for a cuppa?!" George calls out.

Fred huffs and cups the sides of his mouth, "liar!"

You chuckle softly under your breath, face warm as ever as you give them a look, "later! Once I open!"

They both huff and turn to each other. Fred says, "that's not any time, now is it."

"No, it isn't," George agrees.

why can't gay people flirt normally

like "ur cute," "no ur cute," isn't that hard

it doesn't have to be:

"finally the flesh reflects the madness within,"

"well, you'd know all about the madness within wouldn't you remus?"

Lmao???

I love good boy Harry, I do, but I hate it when people write him to be this absolute saint, who would never use any dark magic, or be vicious when need be.

He literally used Crucio on Bellatrix (albeit, it didn’t really work), and then he used it again, on somebody because they spat on McGonagall (and it did work that time).

He used Imperio on multiple people.

He strangled a guy.

And this all happened in canon.

Ron: I feel like we’re forgetting something important.

Hermione: You mean the homework due tomorrow?

Harry: The Basilisk in the pipes?

Ron: …I was going to say my sandwich, but yeah, those too.

Fred: Did you hear that?

George: Hear what?

Fred: The sound of Mum’s wrath coming for us.

Arthur: Why is Ginny upside down?

Fred: She said she wanted a new perspective.

city of angels - that's what they call us, right?

ALT

ALT

Stupid dumb little comic

i just heard about this, and all i have to say is that the situation is indeed very f*ckd up.

may Inquisitor find his forever peace. ❤️‍🩹

for Inquisitor, you will be missed♥

tried to create his model based on his cosplay

if i see shit like this on someone’s blog:

“if you only like my posts then you’re instantly blocked!!!”

“you HAVE to reblog my stuff or you’re not a good member of the community!!!”

“if you serial like my posts and don’t reblog then you only think of me as a machine and don’t value me as a creator!!!”

“i write for myself, but if you don’t reblog my posts then i’m not going to post anymore!!! >:(”

that’s an absolute guarantee the only thing you’ll ever get from me is likes, if anything at all.

likes are still interaction, and the tumblr algorithm counts ALL interaction when it pushes posts (including likes). there’s nothing wrong with wanting lots of notes on your posts, but guilt tripping and shaming people because they aren’t interacting in the only way you deem fit is not okay and only pushes people away from the community you supposedly care so much about.

Vienna- 141

This is based on a request:

Angst, death of a character, (spoiler it you, lol), suicide, MDNI

Slow down you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then if you're so smart tell me Why are you still so afraid?

Backstory:

It was you, the one who always had everyone backs. But who had yours? It was you, the same one who would get cleaning duties because you took blame for everyone. The team couldn't sleep? oh, there you go at 4 am, 4 hours of sleep and making coffee and tea for your team. One time, a mission went wrong. Evac would happen with or without you five. So, you gave yourself up so the team could make it to evacuation. They held you for 15 hours before you ran off and back to base. Now, the question is, did your precious boys mind it? no, they swore you were already on base, no need for search. Till this day you have nightmares about that day. You cry, make it known you are going through some form of PTSD. Not once have they mentioned getting you help.

Soap was sick one time, real sick. So as you naturally did, you made soup for him, prepared him a nice time. And stayed up all night, despite you having other duties on the morning. This was your life. And yes, maybe they didn't reciprocate their love or affection, but who could blame them. You were so young. In their eyes, you were just trying to fit in, trying too hard and for them it just wasn't going to happen. But that was who you were. A natural giver and lover. That was until this past mission.

Too bad, but it's the life you lead You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need Though you can see when you're wrong You know you can't always see when you're right 

--------

Things to a turn for the worse. Your own mind messing with you. And you finally did it. Like any coward, you killed yourself. It was fast and sudden. But soon you had met your Vienna.

It was a rookie that found you. Lying on the floor with the gun on your hand. They called Price. He naturally thought it was a prank from Soap. So he stayed in his office, until his men were on the other side of the door. "Sir, they...they really did it" Ghost spoke up. Some regret and shame on his voice.

Turns out, you didn't have any family but them. Thats why you showed them all of your unconditional love. At the bar, the four men told stories about you. "R/n once told me about some place, said they wanted to visit it. It was their dream." Gaz said, a sad smile on him as a drink warmed up in his hands.

"Vienna." Soap and Ghost mentioned at the same time. It was true. You always wanted to go there. It brought comfort and you always gushed about it.

---------

You got your passion, you got your pride But don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true (Oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

There you were, hiding from the enemy with Ghost and Soap, Gaz on comms. "I want to go somewhere after this place.." you mentioned. "where?" Ghost asked, somewhat annoyed you disturb the silence. "Vienna, I think it's beautiful. It seems kind and clean. I love it!" you smiled, just thinking of how the place must be like. The men stared at each other and discarded the small talk.

There was something, you know? It was peace, heaven, it was home for you. You ran from Austria as a kid because of your dad. And never returned once, it was the story you never told anyone. Because no one stopped and listened.

--------

It was just 2 days before you funeral. The men woke up, no coffee or tea set for them. Price didn't have the news paper and a cigar by his keyboard that morning. Gaz woke up to no hash browns. Ghost was surprised there wasn't any chamomile, or earl grey on his mug. It was a strange feeling when Soap had realized it was you that finished his papers, the same ones Price would make him turn in at the end of the day for rookie reports. Everything was silent. The telly off, no morning show or new magazines by the coffee table.

It was so...empty. It wasn't comfortable or warm. You did all those things for them. You made sure that at least 10 minutes before they work up, you would heat the common room so they wouldn't get too cold. One time you wiped all the tables and floors, made sure the telly was on the morning show so Ghost and Gaz could stay updated on their local news back at home. You walked in and they watched, telling stories about local bars the spokesperson would mention. So you kept doing it, every morning.

What was so strange was that they had depended on you for little things. Price opened the fridge, and to his surprise the little lunch bags someone would make them were not there. All the men swore it was a fan of them who did all these things, that maybe because they made all the rookies train yesterday, their biggest fan couldn't do their tea, or little lunch. But no, that was all you. You just never mentioned it to anyone.

All those little things were your love letters to them. The warm food, the warm mornings. The feeling of home and safety. That was all you. They had become unspoken words of adoration, devotion and love.

They all sat there. Soap regretted laughing at you. He hated how every time they all made fun of how you were, you'd shut down for a while. Your eyes teary and your lip quivering. He cried thinking of all the stupid times they all belittled you.

Slow down you crazy child Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

-----------

You were having a bad day, it was usual especially on the job. The team noticed how you were singing a song, it was so childish to them so they made fun of you for it. For you, it held such a deeper meaning. It brought you to the old you. The 6 year old you, your parents holding your hands as you splashed around puddles. Your dad singing you that song over and over. How he had reached down and kissed your nose. Held you near his chest as him and your mum sang the song for you.

"oh poor baby, go cry to mummy and daddy yeah?"

the men laughed. "toughen up solider."

"probably has a whole bed filled with teddy's" soap said.

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

Soap would regret all his words. Hated how his last talk with you he pushed you away. "not fucking now, Jesus, stop being so annoying!" you just nod and walk away. He didn't know but he was the last one who saw you alive that evening. Ghost hated how he always pushed you around like his personal punching bag at times. Price hated the times he yelled at you, how you looked at him with such teary eyes. He was the first man to yell horrible things to you. Gaz hated how every time you ate alone, he would pass by you and eat with other people. How you still were so kind to him despite his actions. The ghost of a smile on you as you two stared at each other before he told the soldiers a joke about you.

Oh how they wished they showed you how much you meant to them. If only they had just 5 more minutes with you. How much they wished to have you for your birthday. Fuck, they didn't even mind remembering it. One look on your file and there it was. Your birthday and death date all the same, just decades apart. They hated it. How much they had treated you like shit on your day. How soap never told you how much he appreciated you. Ghost and his stories, Gaz and his wild adventures. And price, oh price, how he wished you could've stayed longer.

They knew you reached it. You made your dreams come true. Vienna couldn't wait any longer. By this time tomorrow, you were back in Vienna, buried with your mum and dad. How the sky was probably blue, as their hero returned to their forever home. You would never grow up. No more dreams, no more a lover to hold. Just you in a coffin, away from the last people you loved like a family.

And you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want or you can just get old You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (oooh) Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you?

A/n: so...I hope it was angsty enough for ya! Also, I know this is probably not the song that had ya all inspired, so for that sorry

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Things I head-canon Gaz would do in a relationship bc everyone makes him so basic and I’m sick of it

Every-time he wants to take a nap with you he send that “the missile is very eepy and wants to take just a small sleeb” and says “me fr” under it

Such a cuddle-bug, loves being able to hold you and keep you close

Likes to drive around/to a secluded spot with you in the passenger seat with music blasting, he forces you to be a passenger princess

When you two go to a secluded spot after driving around for a bit you just make out for awhile

Uses your perfume/deodorant when he’s away from you, bought another bottle of whatever you use to take with him when he’s deployed

In return he likes to rub himself all over you and put his shirts on you to make you smell like him. A little weird yeah but he loves it

Please take care of this man if he’s had a bad day :(

But if you’ve had a bad day he’ll hold you until you force your way out of his arms to go to the toilet or something

Loves kissing

Loves when you fall asleep in his arms/on top of him

I can imagine he’d be kinda insecure about his scars so if you kiss them he’ll melt

Chronically stressed so loves when you give him massages

Before he asked you out and he was crushing he was like a nervous teen boy, constantly glancing at you and trying to impress you before he gave up and just asked you out

If you’re not there to sleep with him he uses a pillow either with your shirt or your perfume/deodorant on it so it smells like you and he cuddles it

Ok that’s all for now, I’m still working on requests just tired

Moments like that get me so emotional and happy ;_;

Konig image

Y/n is hiding out in an abandoned store, lying on the ground hoping to get some rest till they see Konig enter the store with something all over him…

Y/n: hey Konig there’s still some food if you want-…

Konig grabs y/n and pins them to the ground panting like a dog with his hood torn open but only to his mouth where you can see the huge smile he has planted on his face with blood dripping down from it on to your face

Y/n: A-are you okay?? Is that your blood???

Konig: hahah no my love! I ripped a man’s throat out! : D

Y/n on the verge of tears from fear: wtf???

(Sorry my grammar is horrible)

the haunting ghost

I love him 🖤

crybaby learns how to swim - subtitled

Happy 42nd birthday to BARRY SLOANE

My fave pics of him 🥰

141 finest

hes everywhere