always-the-same-man

Haunting Me (Chap. 5)

Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader

Warnings: Mentions of racism. Flashbacks. Angst.



Since the little occurrence at the motel twenty four hours ago, you’ve been held in the Stark tower and interrogated by Alexander Pierce himself. He was convinced that you were working with Bucky and conspiring with him on multiple terrorist attacks, which was highly untrue. You had a perfectly clean record; you hadn’t even missed a single day of school until now, so the thought of you having anything to do with The Winter Soldier and Hydra was complete bullshit according to Nick Fury.

He was there the entire time as well, countering every little accusation that Pierce threw at you with hard facts. Every attack that had happened in the last few months happened while you were seeing by numerous people on the other side of the city. Hell, even your professor confirmed your whereabouts on those dates, but that didn’t stop Pierce from threatening you.

“I think we’re forgetting that she was kidnapped,” Fury spoke as he crossed his arms. “And held hostage for an entire day and a half. There were multiple witnesses that saw him not only chasing her, but abducting her as well.”

“Which is why I believe she knows something,” Pierce countered, peering over at you with a frustrated scowl. “Why on earth would Hydra’s top assassin go absolutely haywire and kidnap this random woman? Why her? What made him act that way?”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee. You were beyond exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and sleep forever. You hoped and prayed that Bucky would magically appear in your apartment, but you knew the chances were slim to none.

“Can I leave now?” you asked, your eyes staring at the metal table below you.

“No,” Pierce spoke briefly, before standing from the chair. Without another word, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Look, kid,” Fury sighed as he sat in the empty chair across from you. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “Did the guy mention anything to you? Where he was going or anything like that?”

You shook your head, feeling the familiar burn of tears threating to form in your eyes. “No,” you answered, swallowing the lump in your throat. He didn’t mention anything. You both were pretty preoccupied before Steve popped up, but you completely left those intimate parts out. You didn’t exactly fancy talking about your sexual escapades with random people.

“Alright,” he nodded, giving you a tight smile as he stood from the chair. “We’re gonna have you fill out some paperwork and you’ll be on your way. I’ll send Rogers in here; he’s dying to talk to you.”  

You nodded, giving him a small smile. However, on the inside, you were screaming. You had so many bones to pick with Steve at the moment; you wanted all of your questions answered immediately.

A few minutes after Fury excused himself, the door squeaked open and you heard the familiar sound of a shield being set down against the floor. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor filled the room, followed by a deep sigh.

“Did you know?” you asked, avoiding his eyes.

After a long, pregnant pause he answered.

“Yes.”

“How long?” you demanded.

“The entire time,” he admitted, his eyes filled with sadness. You scoffed.

“You knew me,” you confirmed. “The old me. Jane.”

Steve’s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the name fell from your lips. He nodded once again, sniffling softly. You looked over at him, expecting him to be in tears of sadness, but instead, you found him smiling. You looked down at the manila folder in his hands curiously, your eyes flickering back to him.

“What’s that?” you asked warily.

Steve placed the folder down on the table and gently slid it towards you.

“It’s your life, Y/N.” He replied. You inhaled deeply as you opened the folder.

Inside there was a giant older photo of you, smiling brightly. It looked as though it was taken in one of those old school photo booths from the Coney Island carnivals. Your hair was curled in the typical 1940’s fashion, your lips dark with the red lipstick you always wore. Your dress was a deep red with little white polka dots. Beside you was Bucky. He grinned that same dorky grin from your memory as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned his head against yours. He looked so happy and full of life.

You both did.

“What happened to me?” you asked, feeling the tears run down your cheeks.  

“In 1943, you were diagnosed with lung cancer from second hand smoke. You died six months later.” Steve replied, blinking away his own tears that threatened to fall.

The next photo was one of the three of you. Steve was in the middle, with you and Bucky on either sides of him, holding up what looked to be a birthday cake. You let out a small laugh at the sight of tiny, pre-serum Steve with a party hat perched on his head. The three of you looked as though you were laughing hysterically, enjoying each other’s company.

You flipped over to the third photo, which was a black and white picture. It was taken at the beach this time. Only, instead of Bucky or Steve, your arm was wrapped around a very beautiful and much younger brunette and vice versa. She was holding a lollipop in her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as she grinned. You squinted as you took in her features. She was familiar, but not enough to ring any bells.

“Who is this?” you asked, picking the photo up.

“That’s Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s younger sister.” Steve answered, smiling sheepishly. “That was taken on the day you both met for the first time. Bucky took the picture.”

You felt your head ache once again, and this time, you didn’t fight it.

1941

“Okay, dolls,” Bucky laughed as he peered into the camera and aimed it at the two of you. “Make sure you actually look this time, this film is expensive as hell.”

Usually, people didn’t lean in too close to you. They usually awkwardly stood beside as if they were forced by some invisible threat. No one liked taking pictures with colored people, and that instantly sent a wave of anxiety through you. But to your surprise, Rebecca scooted as close to you as possible and flung her arm over your shoulders. She rested her head on your shoulder and grinned.

You swore you felt your heart nearly fly out of your chest. Nevertheless, you found yourself smiling like an idiot at the camera.

“Okay you two,” he exclaimed. “On three!”

You both stood as still as possible as he pressed the button, causing the giant flash to temporarily blind you both. You giggled as you rubbed your eyes, trying to rid your sight of the little dark spots that swarmed your vision.

But just as you set your hands down, you felt Rebecca lean in close to your ear and cup her hands around her mouth, her eyes flickering over to Bucky as he fiddled with the camera.  

“I’m so glad I met you, Jane!” she whispered with a smile. “I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“Y/N?” Steve repeated, this time his voice was a bit louder. You blinked, shaking your head.

“I remember!” you breathed, peering back up at a highly concerned Steve as he stared back at you in confusion. “She told me a secret that day.”

“I know,” Steve chuckled as he took the photo from your hand and stared down at it. “You wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. It took you an entire week for you to finally shut up.”

You both let out a laugh, a genuine laugh that held no type of ill feelings or nervousness.

2016

You found out a whole lot about yourself the past two years.

Your name was Jane Collins; you lived with your younger sister, June. You grew up in New York City with your family. You wanted to become an actress like your idol, Judy Garland. You absolutely loved polka dot dresses and worked at an ice cream shop named Lucy’s, where you met Bucky in 1939.

Out of all the things you couldn’t stand, you absolutely hated cigarettes. The mere smell of them made you automatically nauseous, which was so ironic, seeing as you ended up addicted to them in this life.

However, as you began regaining memories, you began to wonder if Y/N Y/L/N was even a real person anymore. Should you go by your new name in this life, or should you be Jane? You were so confused.

“Your life now is a fresh start,” Natasha told you one day as you both met for lunch. The sun shined down on her fiery red hair, giving you a perfect muse to draw later. “Sometimes it’s best to leave the past in the past.”

Those words struck you like a cord. She was right. As much as you wanted to be Jane for Steve, you weren’t that woman anymore. Sure, it would cause comfort for him, but you were you. You had to live in the moment and be who yourself.

Ever since you found out your true nature, Steve began bringing you around the tower more often. You quickly formed a friendship with everyone, especially Wanda, who was intrigued by your story the most. You began to think of the Avengers as a little second family.

You spent your days attending school, trying to focus on your career and your studies. But no matter what, your thoughts always went back to the same man, Bucky Barnes. Where was he? Was he safe? You prayed he was.

Natasha had tried to set you up with a few men here and there, but you found yourself denying them each time. It wasn’t out of spite or anything, you just…weren’t interested. Truth be told, you weren’t interested in anyone else than a certain brown haired super soldier. You knew it was childish, but you didn’t care anymore. You wanted to see him again, and if that meant waiting around like a crazy cat lady, so be it. Steve tried to tell you how unrealistic that was, but you only responded by raising your fuzzy sock covered foot and giving him a gentle kick to the face, sending him flying off your couch.

2017

You made your way up the final stair case in exhaustion. Your hands were occupied by your large, freshly dried canvas that you would be turning in for your final tomorrow. This would be your final project before graduation and you had to make sure it was perfect, even if that meant staying up until five am like you did the night before.

When you approached your door, fishing your keys out of your coat pocket, you froze.

Your door was open.

Sometimes, you tended to rush as you left and forgot simple things, but not once had you forgotten to lock your door –much less forgetting to close it. You gently pushed the door open, wincing as it squeaked loudly. That was the worst idea ever.

You peeked inside your darkened living room. Everything looked exactly the same; nothing was missing from what you could tell. You took a wary step into the room, setting your canvas down against the wall and pulling out your small stun gun that Tony had given you for your birthday this year.

You found it extremely odd that someone would break in, only to leave everything there and not take anything. You made your way into your bedroom, kicking the door open and peeking inside. Nothing. Not even the light was on. You turned around and made your way into the second room in your apartment, which was strictly used for your paintings.

Immediately, you began to panic. What if someone from school vandalized your paintings? You had an entire year’s worth of work in there; most of it was going into the gallery as well. You felt your heart race as you neared the door, which was slightly ajar. Completely not how you left it.  With a deep breath, you opened the door.

And you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“W-What the fuck?” you breathed, your eyes filling with tears.

You watched as a very normal Bucky Barnes turned around and looked into your eyes. Instead of the cold, dead ones you came in contact with two years ago, you were faced with two lively, ocean blue orbs. They were beautiful, even more than you remembered.

“Hello, Y/N,” he spoke, his eyes staring into yours. 

You blinked, unable to form any coherent sentences.

“Bucky?”


-Fin! 

Tag list of super awesome people!

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Remember the time Clara talked about falling in love with the Doctor?

One thing that drives Clara haters mad - and Doctor-Clara deniers insane - is the fact that we have on-screen evidence that the romance between them was real. It wasn’t something invented in retrospect. Nor was it (as some suggested) shoehorned in to make the finale of Series 9 more interesting. No, it was there from the start.

Of course those of us “in the know” realize this already. It was pretty clear that Clara (Prime) fell for the Doctor when she saw him in her driveway guarding her in “The Bells of Saint John”. Eleven of course fell in love with Clara Oswin Oswald in “The Snowmen” (and was strangely drawn to unlucky Oswin Oswald before that) and luckily for him the original Clara - though perhaps a bit more world-weary than her counterparts - turned out to be just as amazing.

And then came “She Said, He Said: A Prequel”, the surreal minisode released ahead of the Series 7 finale, “The Name of the Doctor” in which first Clara, then Eleven, deliver similar monologues in a room full of props from Season 7B. Is it canon? From a purely narrative “this happened” perspective, of course not. The room is full of stuff the Doctor couldn’t possibly possess, and both monologues break the fourth wall. From a character perspective, however, this is Steven Moffat giving us an insight into the minds of these two characters that he created (semantics: Moffat didn’t create the Doctor, obviously. But he created this incarnation of him). This is the point of view he followed as a writer, and as a showrunner he guided the other writers to keep in mind. And even though he threw a spanner into the works by having Clara and Twelve step back from one another in Series 8 (to the point where Clara turned to Danny for the companionship the Doctor now denied her) - obviously Clara’s feelings for the Doctor would not have disappeared simply because he looked older and had a different personality. Yeah, she had a wobble in “Deep Breath”, but she would have been an incredibly shallow person - frankly unworthy of being a companion, never mind “the Doctor’s girlfriend” (to paraphrase Matt Smith at NYCC 2016) - if she really threw out her feelings for him simply because he changed. Do people who are truly in love dump one another because of a few grey hairs or one puts on some weight, etc?

So these are her words as the minisode begins:

“One day you meet the Doctor. And of course, it’s the best day ever. It’s just the best day of your life. Because, because he’s brilliant, and he’s funny, and mad, and best of all, he really needs you. The trick is, don’t fall in love. I do that trick quite a lot, sometimes twice a day.”

And these are Eleven’s. Again, just because he changed does not mean these opinions changed. The Doctor is always the same man just with a different wrapping.

“We’re running together, and she’s perfect. Perfect in every way for me … Clara. My Clara. Always brave, always funny, always exactly what I need. Perfect. Too perfect.”

Of course the Doctor had to inject a bit of menace at the end. That’s for drama, plus there was a “too good to be true” mystery aspect at the time. But still, this is the Doctor laying it on the line. He says right out that Clara is perfect in every way for him. He’s not even couching it in language like “she’s the best companion.” He’s got a far more personal point of view here.

Although it’s on DVD, “She Said, He Said” has fallen into a bit of obscurity since it wasn’t a full-length episode. But it puts things out there plain as day. Doctor x Clara was real, it was intentional, it was sustained for three full seasons (if you count from “Asylum of the Daleks”). And, as those two brief moments in “The Pilot” and the first episode of Class proved - the embers of Doctor x Clara haven’t died out yet.

There’s a type of man who can’t stand a confident self assured woman, and yet it is always the same man who’ll look at a self-deprecating woman and be like ‘she’s fishing for compliments’. Like these men hate women so much, they can’t stand em existing any which way. That’s how you can tell he’s a misogynist without it needing to be blatant, from these little things you can see through their soul.

Centuries

A/N: I HAD PROBLEMS WITH THE TITLE SO I KINDA PICKED THE SONG CENTURIES BY FALL OUT BOY AND CALLED IT A DAY. I’ve received two requests about the Soul Mates AU - which I fully intend to write before satisfying my own selfish needs this time - and I’ll start working on them right away! I hope y’all enjoy this. It ended up being much bigger than what I initially planned, but it’s worth the ride. I’ll also dedicate this small piece of fiction to @winters-uprise and @arvaleeknight - the only people I know who understand my Altaïr obsession. 

Your name: submit What is this?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes in a vain attempt to push the sleepiness away. You hadn’t been able to catch much sleep — for whatever reason it was, you simply couldn’t last night, and when you did your mind was pestered by that same dream. Again.

You had been having the same dream for over a week now. There would always be the same man in front of you and he seemed… sad. Even when you couldn’t make much out of his face beside his eyes — his amber gaze, almost alike to liquid gold, bored into the very depths of your soul —, you could tell by the way he gazed at you somehow. The man uttered words under his breath, you couldn’t quite make them out, then he’d turn away from you with a sorrowful expression and, for whatever reason it was, you weren’t able to follow him. Your heart filled with dread once more when he disappeared in the dreams, that’s when you’d always wake up.

The weirdest thing was that you didn’t know anyone with such… peculiar eyes. You could see no meaning behind this weird dream — nor were you certain if you really wanted to know. What if it meant death? You had seen enough sci-fi movies to know that trying to change the future was always a bad idea.

Keep reading

Mythological creatures around the world | Beasts

Werewolves are a widespread concept in European folklore, but the characteristics are always the same; a man or woman who transforms into a gigantic, rampaging wolf. Sometimes voluntary and sometimes involuntary, brought on by the moon, a curse or disease. The transformation between man and wolf is often quite painful and attempts to cure werewolves usually end in their deaths.

8

Christopher Eccleston in Agatha Christie: Poirot. One, Two, Buckle My Shoe (1992).Normally with actors I love, I don’t find them very attractive when they are younger. That’s not so with Chris. He always looks like the same handsome man no matter his age.

Would It Really Kill You If We Kissed? (Jaylos One-Shot)

Summary: Carlos and Jay aren’t kids anymore. They are not confused, sad, scared of their parents or hoping for a path to become clear for them. They’ve chosen, they’ve grown up closer than ever, and they are definetly having fun at College. 

(The College AU all of you needed. You’re welcome.) 

See the end for more notes.

.

Mal and Evie found that parties were growing on them two years after they’ve arrived Auradon, and one before they found themselves at University. So when the time for the four of them to step in their classes came they were filled with different kinds of hoping. They already knew exactly the kind of person they wanted to be, and yes, they were going to study and try their best, but they were also planning to have some fun.

Fun, for Jay and Carlos the first moths meant late nights playing video games or talking about anything. They were like velcro, so excuses to study, have lunch or go for walks together weren’t necessary at all. But on the other side, the girls knew exactly where to go on weekends, and even how to skip curfew whatever day it was; so of course, they dragged Jay and Carlos with them eventually.

By the end of the first year, with “The past is past, forgive forget” silent philosophy carved inside every student at campus, they were still known as “The Rotten Four”, but more as a joke accepted with a laugh, even from the College deans.

This superb combo consisted in: Evie and Mal, a.k.a the wizards, since they made two bottles of whiskey yield one hundred and twenty five people, leaving them all completely drunk one night before the finals, but without a trace of hungover the other day. Everybody knew, though, a little magic had been involved. Mal studied Art at the Humanities School, in the East part of the campus; while Evie was a Chemistry student.

Jay, the thief, who gained this nickname after using his skills- apparently forgotten- to open the Tourney field gates one Saturday at two am to throw a party. He studied Architecture, but the ‘study’ part was open to arguments. Jay enjoyed his scholarship because of being a Sport Star and –the authorities wouldn’t admit it- having a great smile.

Carlos, the genius, who managed to deactivate the electricity system on two opportunities, so the alarms placed in the campus wouldn’t alert anyone that they were having the most badass party in the world. An Engineer student tied up in the Technology field, whose grades couldn’t be beaten. And why not, an excellent DJ almost every weekend.

Yet, they all managed to have lunch together nearly every day. The Rotten Four (except Mal, maybe), though, were practically unaware of their influence over the students, but if you asked anyone on the College what they thought about Jay and Carlos, the answer was always the same.

“Pff, man, they are hooking up”

Everyone seemed to notice except them.

Carlos was gay, it was a known fact like saying the Sun shines, but Jay was just sexual, with everything it involved. Flirting was his second nature, and the sexual vibes between the two friends seemed to drain everybody in. It was in the air. Secretly, the entire campus was waiting for it to explode, for them to start fucking in the middle of the green zone. Carlos and Jay would just keep looking at each other, making love with their pupils without knowing, unconsciously touching, being themselves in front of everyone, not matter when.

“Carlos! What’s the fifth element?” Jay said one night, almost drunk.

“Uh, I don’t know, love?”

“No, Helium, you silly.”

Carlos broke out laughing first, throwing his head back like a little kid and touching his stomach while saying “You’re so stupid”. And that was when Jay knew, although feeling numb because of the alcohol, his joke didn’t go well. First, because helium wasn’t the fifth element on the periodic table. But most important, because that feeling he had been ignoring since he met Carlos back on the Isle hit him, stronger than ever, and took him totally out of guard. Something triggered Jay to kiss the hell out of that mouth that had just insulted him. It was a rush of fever, it burned his veins. And surely, it scared him to dead. Jay chocked; ashamed, uncomfortable, attracted, and possessed.

“What? Shut up.”

“Make me.” There was that tense, thick look, that made Jay want to punch Carlos so he would stop being such a nerd before shut him up for real, make him beg between sighs and moans.

“Ugh, get a room.” Mal said with a smirk. But the truth was sexual tension owned the entire college.

.

Carlos knew a bit later, that Tuesday he was waiting for Jay to meet him at the Science and Technology School’s Cafeteria. He saw Ben –who was studying Political Sciences- looking at Mal while she was drawing something in her sketchbook. She was totally drained on it, doing that thing she often did with his tongue whenever she was concentrated, and Ben had his eyes locked in her face, like it was the only thing that mattered in that moment. Suddenly, she lifted his head.

“What?” Carlos read Mal’s lips. As an answer, Ben kissed her forehead.

He felt like someone was squeezing his chest as a thought came up to his mind in a rush. He craved that kind of love. But, the moment was so intimate that Carlos felt bad for watching it, so he looked at the door instead, just to see Jay coming in.

Some girls greeted him with kisses on the cheek, and Jay had something to say to each one. As he could not resist flirting once in his life. Of course. Carlos rolled his eyes without helping it. He thought, oh my god, go away, as if any of you had a chance, he’s min- and there he stopped, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hi” Jay said when he reached Carlos, with a big smile as always, but this time it made Carlos ache so bad he felt like holding himself.

“Hi.”

“Man, you look like you need to take a shit. What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? No, everything’s fine.”

“Sure. Do you really want to study here?”

“Fuck, no.” He sighed, being honest. “I wanna go to the dorm” Carlos stood up and took a moment to put his books back in his bag, when he noticed a small box inside it. It was pink, with a red ribbon. He was still being a curious person despite the years, so he opened it without thinking twice, instantly wishing he wouldn’t.

It was a bottle of lube and condoms. And a piece of paper. “Just in case you need them, little lovebirds. xoEvie.”

Carlos freezed, his face burning with pure embarrassment. Then he closed the belt with the thought, I’m so gonna kill her.

“Let’s go” Jay grabbed the bag from his hand, completely unaware, and hanged it over his shoulder.

Carlos watched him speechless. He understood in a sudden why everyone made jokes about them.

.

They walked slowly. It was a hot day outside and that was not helping Carlos at all, because from the corner of his eye he could see Jay’s t-shit tighten up to the muscles of his chest

“I think I’m going to skip the first period tomorrow so I can sleep a little more before the test.” Jay said, but Carlos was frowning at an uncertain point on the trees. “Carlos.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where are you, bro. I said I’m skipping the first period tomorrow.”

“Training?”

“No, I want to sleep a couple of hours more.”

“Sure.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“What are you planning to do?”

“About what?”

“What? Land on Earth Carlos. What’s going on?”

“Is nothing, I’m tired. I can’t concentrate. I’m thinking about sex.” Carlos felt ice running through his veins when the last sentence escaped his lips. He wasn’t exactly thinking about sex, he was trying not to look at Jay’s fingers twisting his own hair while talking. “I mean I- whatever.”

“So you are thinking about me?” Jay burst into laughs.

It was just a joke, but Carlos felt like passing out. The air was suddenly too thick and hot to breathe it. This is what everyone talks about.

“Why are you always making sexual references?” He tried to hide the fact his voice trembled with a laugh, getting into the game anyways.

“What? You just mentioned it. Besides, I’m a sexual reference.” Jay had that arrogant look on his face, but when he looked at Carlos there was something else behind the joke. Something wild.

Carlos threw a playful punch to Jay’s stomach, but the boy caught his hand.

“You should try doing exercise”

“You’re so full of it, I don’t need to go to the gym”

“You’d like it” Jay was stroking gently Carlos’ inner arm with his fingertips while looking directly in his eyes. “We do lots of different exercises… Some involving, legs, arms…” He was too close now, they’ve already stopped walking. “…hips.” Jay moved quickly after he had finished the word, and took Carlos from behind the knees, throwing him over his shoulder with a loud laugh.

“What the hell Jay!” Carlos felt the fabric of his own bag on the cheek, because Jay was still carrying it. Damn, he was strong. “Put me down”

“Oh you better don’t ask for it twice.”

.

When they arrived the dorm, Carlos crashed on the couch with a loud sigh. Jay looked at him trying not to breath. He had known, kissed and even had sex with really cute people, but they could never be compared with Carlos. Especially when he was lying like that, absolutely peaceful, with his eyes closed, eyelashes intertwined, freckles splattered all over his skin. Carlos never lost the habit of dyeing the tips of his hair, and now he also had grown a little beard. As far as Jay concerned, it was hot. He was beautiful, and the important difference was, Jay had never ever touched Carlos in any non-friendly way.

He realized it was killing him.

“I’m hungry” he let out, so Carlos would have to reply. Jay wanted him to talk just because of the torturous pleasure of seeing how his lips moved.

“Well, move your ass and cook something.”

“Pff.” Jay huffed. “Sure. Why don’t you better move your ass so I can sit like a normal person?”

Carlos glanced at him and stood up. “I’ll make coffee.”

“With sugar please.” Carlos rolled his eyes and Jay smiled, thinking it was really nice when Carlos looked mad but seemed to swallow the anger to let him do whatever he wanted. It made him feel kind of special; warm.

It didn’t make sense to be in on the couch without Carlos there, so Jay followed him to the kitchen.

“I asked for food and you’re making me coffee, what a terrible mother.”

“You didn’t ask for food, sucker. Now you’ll drink the coffee or I’ll have to shut you up.” Jay remembered the night Carlos dared ‘Make me’ but didn’t have time to respond. “Can you give me some cups?”

And it happened, it exploded.

When Jay finished drinking his coffee, he wanted to leave the cup on the sink, so he approached it. But Carlos thought he was going to leave it on the right side, so he moved to his left, and Jay had to literally corner him to leave the goddamned cup.

Jay didn’t know what to do with all that closeness, so he leaned on the counter, scared to even breathe, enjoying and suffering at the same time. He relaxed his shoulders when Carlos showed no reaction. But they were so, so close, that with that movement, Carlos’s lips touched his skin. There, between his neck and shoulder, and Jay shivered.

He risked to look down, searching for Carlos’ expression. And he found him with his eyes closed, parted lips, slightly blushed. Gorgeous. Jay sighted again, and Carlos muttered his name before brushing his lips in every inch of skin he could find.

By this point Jay couldn’t help wrapping his arms around Carlos, who had buried his face in his chest, with a hand in his wrist line, before saying “Why you always smell good?” And everything was so intimate, finally, that made Jay smile.

“You always smell good, too.”

Jay’s body was big and warm, and made Carlos feel safe, at home. Jay’s hands on him made him feel wanted, attractive, irresistible; like if all his feelings were corresponded. After some seconds of stumbling on the kitchen in a mess of kisses on the neck Jay mumbled, “Can I kiss you, please?” And as a reply, in order to break all the tension they’ve been thought since forever, Carlos held his face and leaned on, connecting their lips.

All the rush disappeared in that second. That first kiss tasted like freedom, like victory, like finally, you son of a bitch. Jay broke it with a little laugh and Carlos smiled, with his eyes closed. Then they leaned again, Jay working Carlos’ mouth open and sliding his tongue in. He could not stop himself from biting his bottom lip, keep kissing, and then bite again. Everything after their tongues met was solid, unstoppable passion. They were so wrapped together it was hot everywhere; it felt so good that was almost painful.

Carlos interrupted the kiss, gasping for air, so Jay moved to leave kisses all along his jawline until he reached his earlobe and bite it. A hum escaped Carlos lips from the back of his throat and that was when they both decided it wasn’t enough and they needed to touch skin. Jay took a step and pulled Carlos’ shirt away with a quick move. Carlos felt warm fingers exploring his lower back.

“Bed.” He said on Jay lips, while pushing him gently, trying to reach the bedroom. When Carlos’ back hit the wall, the cold sensation made him shiver and as a reflect, he thrusted his hips forward. But Jay was so glued to him that the slightly friction between them made him moan, pleased. It had been low, deep, and almost animal. Carlos swallowed his own groan biting Jay’s lower lip, and the few threads of sanity and coherence left in him went to fucking hell.

He fisted the hem of Jay’s t-shirt to get it off, smirking on the kiss when he could finally touch him properly. He explored all of Jay torso with his hands, unzipping his jean by the way, still smiling. Jay was starting to bite his neck again when he hit something with his foot and almost fell. They both pulled apart for a second to look at the floor. Carlos recognized his bag and his eyes shined. In a rush, he took the small box and emptied its content on the floor. He took the lube and a condom and stood right in front of Jay, with both items in his hands, showing him.

“Holy Christ” Jay’s voice was scratchy, it was so hot.

They crashed on Carlos’ bed. Jay had already lost his jeans before entering the room.

“Why aren’t you already naked?” he said with a grin, leaving kisses in Carlos’ chest, going down with each one. “I’ll have to fix it” He added with his face directly over Carlos crotch, who whined in anticipation. Jay got rid of all the fabric left between them in a second.

He lowered even more, and kissed Carlos’ right calf. He had freckles even in his legs, he was a masterpiece, all sprawled in the sheets for him. Who would have thought? Jay left a trail of kisses all along Carlos body, with his eyes closed, just feeling the soft skin against his lips. Carlos watched him all the time without saying a thing, but he was shivering slightly.

“What are you doing?” He stuttered, intertwined his fingers in Jay’s hair, when he pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

I’m making you love” Jay stated, while touching Carlos finally.

Carlos blushed and smiled, he felt like he had melted. His eyes fluttered shut. It wasn’t his first time having sex, but definitely, it was the first time someone made him love.

“Kiss me again” he pleaded. And after that moment, the room went hot again. They became a wet mess of limbs, groans and whines of pleasure. Everything felt so good it was almost an agony, until the final cries died between the sheets, and they were left reduced as only heavy breaths.

Sometime later, Jay could still feel the scratches and red marks in his back because of Carlos’ fingers, but both of them were tangled up in the sheets, filled with calm.

Carlos was brushing Jay’s hair with his fingers when he let out, “I always felt relieved that we were chosen together to come here, to Auradon.”

Jay looked at him without saying anything, so he would continue talking.

“I mean, I obviously was glad that the girls were coming, but I felt beyond relieved when I knew you were coming, too. I don’t think I could had left without you. I’d found a way to stay on the Isle. I- I don’t know, it’s something that I’m used to think very often. I never could picture myself without you, you’ve always been here.”

Jay was staring at him, and as if it was possible, he held Carlos even closer.

“You don’t have to think about it anymore, you know. I’m staying with you as always, I can’t be without you either”

Carlos was still touching Jay’s hair.

“You better be. You owe me two beers from the last Tourney game bet.”

Jay laughed in that way that made his eyes practically disappear. “You know what?, I’ve just decided I want to be an ecologist.”

“You what?”

“Yup. And you’ll need to have shower with me, you know, in order to save some water.”

Now it was time for Carlos to laugh.

After they’ve washed the other’s hair, talked about music and politics and the latest video games, Jay and Carlos were back on the bed. They really tried to keep it simple at first, but with the new found feeling of freedom, they realized nothing was stopping them from having the best sex of their life. Not at all.

.

“I KNEW IT!” Mal’s scream woke them up at the same time, shoked.

“Uh, this can’t be happening” Jay covered his head with the blanket.

“What, Mal?” Ben appeared at the bedroom door. “I KNEW IT”

Carlos clenched before poking his head from under the sheets.

“It’s not what you think it is!” He claimed so sure that if Jay hadn’t fuck him so well the night before, he could have believed it. But Carlos sat up on the bed revealing a couple of marks on his neck. “It’s actually worst”

Evie was suddenly standing next to Mal and Ben too, with the bottle of lube between his fingers. Her eyes seemed to be just about to pop out of her head.

“OH. MY. GOD” Then she let out a long, shrill scream, jumping up and down. “YES. YES. YES” She pointed a finger at them. “You. Two little fuckers. I KNEW IT. You liked the little present, didn’t you?” Now she looked proud, like if she was thinking, whatever, I made you gays. “Congrats on the sex.”


(NOTES: First of all, i have only slept four hours today and writting this took like twelve, i’m not exagerating, so thank you with all my heart if you’re reading this. Next point, I’M SO SORRY I REALLY TRIED TO WRITE A DECENT SMUT but i couldn’t, it’s definetly not my thing. Anyways, at least now that they are at College it’s legal to make them fuck… 

Then, you should totally check @carlosdvil art blog in general to see tHE AMAZING COLLEGE!CARLOS here and here. (go, go, go)

And last of all, I want to ask you for a favour maybe, because you know English is not my first language, so if you noticed any grammar mistake or typo, you can tell me on the tags or you can go to my ask and i’ll fix it. Honestly, I try to learn all the time. If you liked it let me know, too! ) 

anonymous asked:

I'll never understand why Dumbledore teared up during the "always" bit. Snape's "love" for Lily was creepy as hell, and he had just admited to not caring for her son, whom he helped orphan and bullied for years. Any thoughts?

I remember a post that was going around back in the day suggesting that they were tears of pity. “Severus, it’s been years. Get a girlfriend. Please.”

All humour aside, I think that was exactly it. Once Voldemort fell on October 31, 1981, only Dumbledore stood between Snape and the Azkabany consequences of his awful choices. Dumbledore assigned mentorship of a quarter of the school straight to Snape - a high position of trust - and had him teach an important subject to all of the students. He placed him in an environment where he could make new attachments and start to make friends among his adult colleagues. It was basically a new start for Snape. And yes, he expected Snape to help keep Harry safe from Voldemort, given that Harry was Voldemort’s target thanks to Snape in the first place. Expecting Snape to help clean up his own mess is not abuse, no matter what certain fans may claim.

And it all came to naught. ‘After all this time’, Snape shows Dumbledore that he cared nothing for anyone who wasn’t Lily. He hadn’t grown as a person, or made any attachment whatsoever to the boy who constantly battled Voldemort because of him. He hadn’t made any real attachment to anybody, because he was still living in the past, driven relentlessly by the ghost of a young woman whom he never actually understood as a person - because if he had, he wouldn’t have thought she would find becoming a Death Eater impressive, let alone think she’d consider it acceptable to bully the son she gave her life for.

Even worse, if he hadn’t mentally matured by now, he wasn’t ever going to. Because spying is a dangerous business and the chances were that Snape wasn’t going to last long once Dumbledore was gone (not a guarantee, there was certainly a chance for his survival, but realistically, not a large one). He was ‘always’ going to remain this same man, frozen permanently in a stage of bitter petty hate and punishing the innocent for the crimes of the dead until the day of his death. JKR herself confirms that Snape held onto his hatred and didn’t let it go until his literal last breath - far too late to do anything about it.

Dumbledore pitied even Tom Riddle, of course he pitied Snape. But realistically, he had done pretty much all he could do. Snape’s failure to grow into someone Lily could have actually trusted and respected is on him, not Dumbledore.

anonymous asked:

Hi sweetness(: I really enjoyed your shower scene ficbit, but I read the tags at the bottom and was kinda feeling you with the whole "this stinks because it's always the same". It's hard, man. Anyway, I'm in no way an experienced writer, but I find when I want to write smut it helps to kinda look from both of their views and use their observations in foreplay? I often end up with "swell of your breasts" and whatnot, but explaining what you find attractive seems to make it that much more sexy.

I don’t know how to answer to both parts at once on mobile. That is a fair thing to consider. It’s the climax part that bothers me. Like sure you can mix up the foreplay but it still goes with the man bit in the lady bit and orgasm. And like, I don’t know many other words to describe that so I worry it comes across boring if you read it too much. What a weird thing to lament sorry haha, smut is challenging in its own right…

The Master's Encounter - Calum 1920s AU Smut

inspired by this post - read it for background info on the whole fic

pictures from the post^ but the bottom row i edited myself. also this one’s pretty long, around 3.6k words but there is definite smut x

master!kink and stuff 

masterlist

“I think she’s perfect for the role, don’t you darling?” Mrs Hood bat her eyes at her uninterested husband.

“Yes dear.” Smoke from his cigar fell from his lips as the man of the house agreed with nonchalance.

“Well that settles it! You’re our new maid!” Mrs Hood cooed, clapping her hands together and beaming at you, “Welcome to the house, uh…?” She struggled to remember your name.

“Annie Diamond.” You politely smiled as she led you out the luxurious living room, leaving you just enough time to glance back at your brooding target.

Mr Hood had caught the eye of your comrades a while ago as he was hurriedly leaving a burlesque show. It was, of course, old Patricia who had tipped you off. Being the star of the show she was always reliable to bring your attention to rich, unhappily married, gorgeous men. And Calum Hood was perfect.

You could tell by the way he was slouched in his chair with a crystal glass of whiskey rested on his knee that he was in no way happy with where he ended up.

He’d been to the burlesque every night for three weeks solid; Lord knows where he told his wife he was going. Well, you didn’t care much. As long as you did your job and got out in one piece, you didn’t care at all.

“You’ll be sleeping here!” Mrs Hood kept up her enthusiasm as she directed you into a small room upstairs.

“It’s lovely.” You respectfully said, you’d done this a million times.

“Thank you, Annie.”

“When do my duties start?”

“Tomorrow?” She said to you as if she was asking a question. She wasn’t.

“Would you like me to turn down your bed tonight? It’s no trouble, Miss.”

She looked at you with a vacant smile on her face, “Why yes, yes alright.”

“Of course Miss, shall I get changed first?”

“Oh yes, you better. I’ll leave you alone,” She crossed the threshold of your room but leaned back in, “Cook has left for the evening, but there’s still some food in the pantry if you haven’t eaten.”

She closed the door, her smile falling a fraction of a second before you lost sight of her.

Better get to work.

You quickly unpacked your large suitcase, flinging unnecessary clothes onto the bed to reveal what you really came here for. A large leather book was lying at the bottom of the bag, filled with documents related to Mr Hood’s sex scandals over the past year. The horny bastard.

You flicked through the book, recalling the events of Mr Hood’s year: Joe’s Whore House, the French Burlesque and too many strippers to count.

You were a con artist. A good one. And you worked for a network called the ‘Forty Elephants’, lead by Diamond Annie, so called as she wouldn’t hesitate to punch you in the face with her fist full of diamond rings. They were divine though, you’d picked out a few for her. All the girls working the field used her name when out on a job, for security. Your mission was simple and always the same:

  1. Find a rich man - younger preferably, they tend to give in more easily.
  2. Find out and keep records of his secrets, they all had ‘em.
  3. Infiltrate. That usually meant get a job in his home as a cook, maid, nanny, anything.
  4. Blackmail the bastard.

Voila. Job done.

And you’d be outta there 1000 clams richer and with a few nice pieces of jewellery.

You ran your fingers over the developed portrait of Mr Hood, stuck to a document in the book containing all his personal details. You knew where he worked, all extended family, his usual routines and habits. One of which slightly intrigued you. You read the small black lettering out loud.

“‘Known to sleep with household staff.’”

Ha. He couldn’t keep his pants buttoned could he? This job should be a doddle.

You heard the creak of floorboards outside your room and hurriedly threw the book under your thin mattress. You stripped expertly and pulled the black pinafore over your head, stuck the ridiculous white bonnet in your hair and tied a white apron around your waist. You tentatively opened your door and peeked into the corridor. No-one in sight. Stepping out cautiously into the corridor you made your way to the Master Bedroom, opening the door and instantly seeing Mrs Hood by her dresser in her nightclothes, you looked to the floor to give her privacy as she turned to greet you.

“Sorry Miss, should I come back later?”

You may be a con artist but you still had manners.

“No Annie it’s fine, come in.”

You nodded and began folding the sheets on her large bed. She sat and watched you, but her eyes were glazed over.

“Annie…” Her voice broke as she said your name.

“Yes Miss?” You kept your voice monotone, she sounded emotional and you didn’t like getting personally tied up in your job.

“What would you do if your husband was sleeping with someone else?” She whispered the question, only making eye contact with you once she finished speaking.

“I don’t know Miss.” You started plumping up the pillows.

“Calum…He has no idea.” She said to herself.

“Sorry?” Mr Hood has no idea about what?

She stood up and threw herself into your arms, sobbing dramatically on your shoulder as she choked out a sentence.

“I slept with the milkman!” She wept.

“The milkman?” You stuttered, utterly perplexed.

“I know, I know! But I was all dolled up when he stopped by and Calum and I have barely talked to each other for months,” She straightened up and looked you in the eyes, “Don’t tell him.”

“Never, Miss.”

“Thank you.” She sighed loudly and collected herself, “Right! Get a wiggle on to bed, Calum will be up soon.”

“Of course.” You backed out the room, taking off your bonnet immediately and shaking out your hair.

“Has the doll finished wailing now?”

You started and watched as Mr Hood came up the shadowed grand stairs, stopping as he reached the top, opposite you.

“Sorry, Mr Hood?” You crooked your head.

“Winnie, has she stopped crying about fucking some other guy?” He stepped closer to you, the moonlight from a window casting across his tan face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master.” You bowed your head, his gaze was focused on you and you didn’t like how you could see his mind whirring away.

“Sure.” He moved past you, stopping at your side to slip in a last comment, “She’ll leave tomorrow at noon to get plastered.”

And then he left.

You scurried back to your room. Tomorrow. Bugger. You’d hope to have had at least a week to steal a couple of goodies but now your schedule had been pushed forward. So be it, you still had a job to do.

Deftly changing into your nightgown you fell asleep almost instantly, you needed to be rested for the day ahead.

You woke up automatically at 6am, your body clock set for working times. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, you reluctantly changed into your maid outfit. You’ll change again later, into the ‘tailored’ one. You’d been playing this role for a while now and men always seemed to fall into your traps when you were showing a bit of leg. You guffawed out loud at your thoughts, I wonder why?

You pattered silently down the stairs and met the cook in the kitchen. She instructed you to take a tray up at 9, you had until then to eat your own breakfast and dust the living and drawing rooms. You swallowed a scarce piece of leftover meat and limp vegetables, and downed a glass of water then began to fulfill your duties. You had to admit, if you ever did decide to become a full time maid you’d be a bloody good one.

“Need a hand?” Mr Hood’s gruff voice sounded from behind you as you stretched to reach a corner.

“Uh, no Sir, thank you.”

He just shrugged but moved closer to you all the same. Calum stood next to you and seemingly browsed the bookcase, but he leaned in closer to you as you continued to dust, his presence was unavoidable.

“I liked it better when you called me Master.” His silky words floated around your brain, almost intoxicating you and it suddenly clicked why so many maids enjoyed his company.

You turned to respond but he was gone.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath, unsure whether it was a delayed reaction to Calum’s advances or the realization of the fact that you had one minute to get breakfast upstairs.

“Ah Annie,” Mrs Hood sung as you slid through the door to her bedroom, “I’m at a luncheon today, so I’ll be gone a little while. Would you mind sewing up a tear in my red dress? It’s hanging in the wardrobe.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Thank you, dear.” She took a bite out of her sandwich and sipped at her tea before bustling past you in a blur of silk.

You politely followed her down the stairs and opened the front door for her, seeing her into her cab and waving her off. As soon as she had disappeared around the corner you felt Cook rush past you.

“Cook?” You called.

“The cow won’t be back for a few days, I’m outta here!” She cackled and trotted down the road out of sight.

“Alone already.” You said to yourself, gearing up for what was to come.

You shot upstairs, changing into your fitted clothes, the bodice was corseted and revealed a lot of bust, and your skirt came up past your knees. You tucked your small revolver into your garter and pulled black stockings up your legs, revising the leather bound book before you slunk out the room.

You located Mr Hood in the living room, leisurely smoking a cigar and intently watching the smoke float up to the ceiling. He was totally unaware of your presence till you made it known.

“Master, we’re alone.” You began, Calum sat up instantly at the sight of you.

“Why yes I believe so.” His eyes raked in your body as he stubbed out his cigar.

“Do you like my dress?” You pulled out your skirt and giggled softly as he nodded.

“I do, but do you know what?” He moved closer to you, his large hand resting in your hip as you held his gaze.

“What?”

“I think I’d prefer it on the floor.”

His plump lips captured your lips in a tender kiss, which quickly deepened and almost made you forget why you were there. You fought for control but he overpowered you, his lips roughly massaging yours. You rolled your body against him, using your arms to push him back down on the sofa as he was distracted. You began to kiss his neck, sucking occasionally but your hand was slipping into your garter, retrieving the gun and pushing it into his neck in place of your mouth as you leaned away from him. He shot you a confused glance but caught sight of the revolver and tensed.

“What are you playing at?”

“£1000. Give it to me please.” You felt highly undignified as you were still sitting with your legs spread over Calum’s lap, but you had to focus.

“A stick up?” He mocked you, clearly not expecting you to shoot.

“If you like.”

“And you would like my money?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I give it to you?”

“Dorothy, Mary, Helen, Betty,” You were listing the names of people he’d slept with in the past year, “Margaret, Virginia, Elizabeth, Marie, Evelyn, oh you liked her didn’t you?”

Calum’s eyes widened with every name, anger and fear igniting his facial features. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you recited an endless list of women, knowing you had got him.

“Couldn’t you take her fucking clothes instead?” He whined, putting on a false pretence of composure.

“No. I want £1000.” You remained icy.

“That’s more than I earn in a bloody year!” He was acting bratty, nowhere near motivated enough.

“I’m sorry you’re not used to living the high life.” You said sarcastically, he was one of the richest bankers in his county.

His eyes narrowed at your remark and he looked you square in the eyes.

“Let’s play a game.”

You were intrigued and let him go on.

“Every time I make you moan I win my pounds back.”

“What are you—?”

The evil glint in his eyes made it obvious what he was suggesting. But of course you were never to make a deal without it being fair.

“Fine,” Calum cocked his eyebrows at your agreement, “But every time I make you moan, I get your pounds.”

“A moan a pound?” Calum settled.

“You’re on.”

You slipped the gun back in your garter and grabbed his shoulders, grinding your hips on his crotch. Your actions made his head fall onto the back of the sofa and you leaned forward to kiss his exposed neck, causing him to let out a groan. You smiled to yourself and moved your lips to his ear to whisper,

“One pound.“

Calum must have realised he needed to dominate you or else he’d be losing cash, his strong arms pinned yours above your head as he flipped you on your back on the sofa. He kissed you softly, but became rougher as he sussed that being gentle wasn’t going to get anywhere with you. Soon enough, his hands had rid you of your skimpy corset and he had you moaning as his practically magic lips roamed your breasts, sucking at your nipples and leaving purple marks over your chest.

“Baby you’re not doing so well.” He taunted in between sloppy kisses on your skin.

The pet name sparked an idea in your head, and you put it into effect immediately, grabbing hold of Calum’s thick hair and reluctantly pulling him off your body so you could slip of the couch and onto your knees.

“Master, won’t you let me help you?” You reinstated his formal name, you could see the affect it had on him, his hands balled into fists and his face hardening.

You were also pretty sure it wasn’t the only thing hardening.

Your hands slid over his clothed thighs, slowly reaching the zip on his trousers. You weren’t breaking eye contact with him as you undid it, yanking his trousers down his legs.

“Annie…” He warned.

“Don’t call me that,” You snapped, “It’s not my name,” You almost froze as you told him this, he wasn’t to know, “Tonight I’m your Princess and no-one else’s.” You cloaked your sudden outburst cleverly but you were sure Calum caught your slip-up.

“Princess what are you doing?” He looked down on you with hooded eyes as you stroked over his still hidden semi.

“Pleasing you, Master.” You batted your eyelashes at him as you finally revealed his cock, taking it in your hand and pumping straight away.

“Oh Hell…” His hand found it’s way into your hair, silently begging you for more.

You obliged, £1000 was worth this, and honestly Calum was the most passionate lover you’d had for a while. You slicked your tongue around his tip, and then took him into your mouth, sucking and pumping with your fist. It wasn’t long before Calum was quivering and whimpering under you, his thighs tensing as he threatened you with release.

“Christ, Princess stop!” His voice called to you but every moan was a symphony to your ears and money in your pocket.

“Master, please cum, please?” You begged him, you knew he would soon.

“Fuck!” He groaned and you felt him shoot ribbons of cum down your throat, you swallowed obediently.

You stood up with a satisfied smile as he lay panting on the velvet sofa.

“I believe that’s £270?”

“It was not that much.” He breathed out.

“A deal’s a deal.”

“No way, I haven’t had a chance to win it back yet!”

“What?”

You squealed as he grabbed your bare waist and threw you on the seat in his place. His hands lifted your petticoats and he softly gasped and tutted as he saw your lack of undergarments. You felt his breath ghost over your inner thighs and bit back a moan as his warm tongue met your core. Your breathing turned ragged as his thumb became dedicated to your clit, rubbing furiously as his lips sucked at your folds, causing you to lose control and let a long moan out. You felt the bastard chuckle against you as he had begun to win money back. He confidently slung your leg over his shoulder and caused another wave of pleasure to hit you.

“I can’t! I can’t!” You became frantic as you knew you had lost.

You thighs trembled and your mouth fell open, spilling high pitched whimpers as you hit your high. Calum cleaned you up with his tongue, emerging from your legs with a stupid grin on his face.

“Dry up. I’ll take her clothes.” You grumbled, about to stand up.

“Who said I was finished with you?” His eyes were gleaming mischievously.

“Cal— Master?” You remained in character, eager to see where this conversation would lead.

Calum leaned down and kissed you, placing his hands on your waist and deftly flipped you on his lap as he sat down. You were game, grinding your entrance over the shaft of his cock to win back a few more moans, but it backfired slightly, the friction leaving you whimpering as well. Calum’s eye flickered over your body and you met his gaze.

"You ready, Princess?” Calum kept the pet name but you found it polite that he asked.

“Yes Master.” You breathed desperately.

Calum grabbed himself, lining up and letting you set the pace as you sunk down on him. You both let out long whimpers as you grinded down on him. Calum thrust up his hips to meet you and no doubt torture you more as he hit your sweet spot with ease.

“Fuck, Princess you feel amazing.” Calum mumbled as his hands cupped your breasts.

You only managed to whimper a mix of “Master” and “Calum” and “Fuck” at the bliss Calum was pumping through you.

“Can I cum Master, please?” You begged, bouncing desperately as you chased your orgasm.

“Wait.” He sternly said, his lips peppering light kisses over your neck and down the valley of your breasts.

“Please?!” You cried, throwing your head back, positive you weren’t going to last.

Calum grabbed your cheek and sloppily kissed your lips, swallowing your moans as you came, his own loud release following a moment after. You draped your arms over his body as your breathing slowed, and then shakily climbed off him, kissing him on the cheek as you observed his worn state.

He was slumped back, half naked with his legs apart and shirt disheveled. One hand combed his hair and his other fell limply as his side. His body was glistening with sweat and the afterglow of sex.

“You need to get cleaned up.” He grunted, pointing his hand in the vague direction of the lavatory.

You scuttled in there, trying to collect your thoughts. You had slept with him, which wasn’t uncommon in your line of work but now you were finding it difficult to fathom stealing from him. Fuck your empathy. You needed to be focused right now, after today you’ll never see him again. Ever.

Oh.

You shook your head in hopes of rattling some sense into it. Money’s a lost cause, you’ll be forgiven as long as you don’t leave empty handed. You quickly cleaned yourself up and ran past the living room, not daring to look inside at risk of weakening again. You made a beeline for the Master Bedroom, rushing into it but stopping short as you saw a fully dressed Calum sitting on the end of the bed.

“Jewellery is in the left drawer of the dresser.” He pointed.

“Thanks.” You rummaged around in the shallow drawer, grabbing the riches and dressing yourself in them to save hand space.

You began giggling as you saw yourself in the looking glass.

“How do I look?” You posed for Calum who was intently watching you.

“Better than Winnie ever did.”

Your laughter faded out and you coughed, pretending to get distracted at the clothes in the wardrobe. A white satin flapper dress stood out from the other robes, it was decorated in intricate beading, you suspected real pearls.

“May I?” You asked Calum.

“You’re asking permission to rob me?”

“Why of course.” You grinned.

“Go ahead.” He sighed.

You slipped the dress over your head, and chose a matching headband to adorn yourself with.

“I love getting dolled up.” You sighed happily as you looked at your reflection.

“Whoopee.” Calum’s sarcastic voice sounded.

“Alright I got it, I’m outta here.”

You strutted into the maid’s room where all your belongings still lay. Expertly you packed them into your bag, placing the jewels carefully into hidden pockets. You shrugged on your huge coat and slipped into shoes, glancing at the doorway to see Calum there.

“Mr Hood, one might think I had taken your fancy.” You flirted brashly, trying to make a joke out of the situation, winking over your shoulder at him as you packed up.

“Well they might not be wrong.”

You froze for an instant but kept your mind trained on your duties. You had to be there for your partners in crime. You couldn’t up and leave with Calum, never. Even if a tiny part of you might want to.

“I need to go, Calum.” You grabbed your case and let him lead you downstairs.

“Tell me your name.” Calum rested his hand on the doorknob, not opening it just yet.

“No,” You shook your head at the floor, “I can’t.”

Calum looked frustrated, but let it go.

“I won’t be unfaithful anymore.” He said, “But I’m going to leave Winnie.”

“Good.” You replied with a small smile.

Calum twisted the handle, opening the door and you stepped over the threshold, only just, before looking back and kissing him hard.

“Will I ever see you again?” He asked.

You winked and began walking down the street, calling back to him.

“If you’re lucky!”

     He’s more often than not a messenger if it calls for it. To be able to wander into any and all territory unquestioned and in no need to explain, finds itself a useful trait in these moments particularly. When those would call and give him orders, that should not be affiliated with the likes of the CCG, no matter the veil of convenience they truly possess. 

    If at all, he’s greeted by the investigators and staff around, let through, informed over absences or delays of the company sought. It’s always the same, and the man he’s now approaching, sure as much knows not to send him away, when their sparse meetings had but a few select reasons to be considered. “I am here with a message.” Down to the point, but certainly not out in the open like this.

    “A private one. V wanted me to deliver information - please suggest a room.”     // @daturida

The pattern is always the same, man. It’s so consistent it could be a scientific fact at this point!
Someone: makes an awful “joke” about Z
Ztans: get defensive
Them: issa joke????
Ztan: just say you hate Z and go.
Them: no???? Just bc i don’t like Z doesnt mean I approve of what the haters are saying! I’m not a hater!
Ztan: …………….
Them: anyways y'all too sensitive. I can call Z names and you can’t call me out on it, cuz you’re a ztan, ergo trash.

IT IS ALWAYS THE SAME FUCKING PATTERN. I’m exhausted.

3

“Figlio di Puttana! I know what we’re hunting! It’s a freaking Vampire!”
Sam’s laughter interrupted your thoughts and made you look up from your Laptop.
“What?!”
Your Boyfriend looked at you with a wide grin on his face. 
“Nothing but you are cute when you curse in Italian”
“Oh come on, Sam! Not again.”
“Aww your accent gets stronger when you’re getting angry.”
You threw your hands up in frustration and left the room. “Madonna mia, Sam! Just shut up!”
It was always the same with your man-child of a boyfriend.

Submitted by anon

In Your Dreams, Princess: A Short Story(Part 1)

Here’s a story involving my favorite author, @sjmaas phenomenal Throne of Glass series characters. This is a little different from my usual short stories, but I hope you like it:)

Links to my other short stories here:

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/136968948583/no-business-of-theirs-a-throne-of-glass-series

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/136953488053/gone-a-throne-of-glass-series-short-story-part

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/137045406913/christmas-in-terrasen-a-throne-of-glass-series

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/135688576248/hero-and-villain-a-throne-of-glass-series-short

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/134506475228/the-fae-princes-birthday-a-throne-of-glass

http://thelittleloverofbooks.tumblr.com/post/133724705078/a-morning-with-the-queen-of-terrasen


The world was burning. Literally just one big flaming inferno. Everything around Celaena Sardothien was painted in angry shades of red and orange. Sweat trickled down her back and neck, causing her tunic to stick to her in a most uncomfortable way.

Stray pieces of hair stuck to her face, forcing her to brush them repeatedly away in frustration. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t see anything and at once she was certain the smoke and fire was going to swallow her up whole. 

“Come on, Princess. That the best you got?” 

Aelin whipped around, searching for the source of that voice. But all she could see was red and gray and orange. 

“Who are you?” No sooner had the thought come to her mind than a man stalked out of the smoke, a wicked looking weapon in his hands. He was currently engaged in a treacherous battle. At least ten other figures circled, dancing around him like a predator would its prey.

He’s a dead man, she thought.

But when he yelled at her to get her ass over there and help him, her feet didn’t hesitate. Suddenly, they were back to back and her weapons were drawn. The swords and knives gleamed viciously in the moonlight, swearing death to anyone who dared cross them.

The man, she realized, was big, no huge. His bulky frame towered over hers, muscles honed from years and years of brutal training. His white hair glistened, and as his gaze flitted to her, his pine-green eyes burned with something dangerous.

One of the figures lurched, taking that moment of distraction to catch the man off guard. Celaena could tell before the ginormous man pulled out his weapon that that was a massive mistake on the attacker’s part. 

It was over within seconds. One moment, the dark figure was pouncing, the next, he was strewn across the floor, head severed. The detached head rolled menacingly toward one of the other unknown attackers and stopped just a few mere inches from their foot. 

A wicked, promising grin, wild in its fierceness was now adorning the man’s face. 

Before another thought could pass through Celaena’s mind, the other figures dashed out at both her and the man behind her. She didn’t hesitate in skewering the figure that managed to reach her first. The body fell to the ground with a loud thump.

The next two were more strategic in their strike. 

“You’re good as dead, little girl,” one of them spoke. She couldn’t see its face, if it even had one. The sound of its voice was horrific. Deep and scratchy and filled with something that made Celaena’s body feel as if a thousand ants were crawling all over it. 

They circled around her like sharks, but she waited patiently for one of them to strike first. Arrobyn Hamel’s voice snapped at her in her head, “Let them come to you.”

“Apparently you didn’t see what just happened to your little friend. You’ll end up much the same.” The thing laughed, a dead, soulless sound.

“You are naive. How can you stand up there, parading around like a show horse in that filthy, cursed kingdom!” It chuckled once more. “You are no better than the King himself. You are no better than any of them.”

The other one piped up, “Although I must admit…you are quite easy on the eyes…and so is your friend over there,” it nodded in the man’s direction. “Too bad looks are as good as a wet noodle right now. They’ll do nothing to stop us from ripping you limb from limb and feeding you to the creatures of the sewers.”

Some couple feet away, Celaena could hear the man engaged in a battle with the other three creatures that weren’t progressively inching closer and closer to her. 

“You’ll have to catch me first,” she smirked.

“It’s quite sad, really. The fact that if we don’t kill you tonight, the King will do it himself.”

Celaena forced herself to keep her face devoid of emotion as she said, “What are you talking about?”

“The King, dearie. He has plans…big plans. Plans that would make even you have night terrors, little assassin.”

She kept her eyes on them, and a part of her told her to just end it now. Slice all three of them up without a second thoughts. But then she’d never get any more information out of them.

So she decided to ask, “What’s he planning?”

“He’s been arranging this for years. Even if we told you, there’d be nothing you could do to stop—”

Suddenly, the thing’s voice is cut off. A frightening screech filled the air and not a moment later, all three of the creatures were lying dead on the floor. Celaena looked up to see the man carelessly wiping his blade off with the hem of his shirt.

A blinding rage filled Celaena’s chest as her gaze met his. Her eyes burned holes as she said with alarming calm, “Why did you do that?”

He replied, equally as calm, “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, Princess.”

She gritted her teeth. “Why did you kill them.”

He sheathed both of his blades and knives meticulously before answering. “Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but that was kind of the whole objective of this.”

“I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like I’m a gods- damned child.”

He smirked, and it was so full of arrogance that it made Celaena’s blood boil. “Don’t act like one and maybe I’ll deign to speak to you like a competent adult.”

She placed her hands on her hips and scoffed. “It must be true what they say, then. The bigger the man the smaller the brain.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Princess.” He sighed. “I swear, every day you become more trouble than what you’re worth.”

She froze. “What are you talking about?” Her confused expression mirrored on his face as he stalked towards her. When he was but a mere few inches from her, she realized with a start that a wicked looking tattoo covered one half of his face.

“Don’t play games with me.”

“For your information, you gargantuan bastard, I’m not playing any games. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Something glimmered in his eyes. It was only for a second, but her eyes never betrayed her. What was it? Fear? Panic? Concern? Celaena had a feeling it was an odd mixture of all three.

“It’s me,” he said. “It’s me. Ro–”

Celaena woke up with a start. Again. It had happened again.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, rising and resting her weight on her elbows. She could feel her exhaustion in every bone and crevice of her body. The last few weeks had been of torment. 

During the day she busied herself with training hour after hour with Chaol Westfall, building up her strength and agility. It left her utterly exhausted at night and she fell asleep easily.

However, as of late, her mind had taken to having the strangest dreams. It always included the same man. The remarkable one with the bizarre tattoo and dazzling pine-green eyes. 

Every dream, for the past few months, she finds out something new about him. It’ll be small, fleeting. A change of his stance, the color of his eyes, the deep rumble of his voice, the deep care he showed for his weapons. No matter how many hours she stayed up thinking about him and trying to figure out who he was, she could never figure it out. It was quite infuriating.

There was only one person whom she knew could help her out with this. 

Speedily, Celaena freshened up and got dressed.

Today, she would finally find out who this man in her dreams was and what, exactly these strange dreams meant. 


~End of Part 1~

Favorite creepypasta #128: Sammy

When I was a girl living in Texas, I had a recurring dream. In this dream, I was walking down the street of my hometown, and a man would walk toward me. Sometimes he was older and sometimes he was younger. He didn’t always have the same face, but I always knew it was the same man. He would get closer and closer, and I would know that something bad was going to happen, but I would wake up each time before he reached me. I would be terrified. One night, in my dream, we finally got face to face and I spoke to him. I said, “What is your name?” He said, “My name is Sammy.” And then I woke up, and I was so afraid that I couldn’t go back to sleep. I went to my sister’s room and said, “Can I get in bed with you? I’ve just had a really bad dream.” My sister said, “Was it Sammy?” I said, “What did you say? How do you know Sammy?” And my sister said, “I don’t. But you just brought him in the room with you.” I turned on the lights and I saw that my sister was asleep.

Credits to: Reddit user solocup

Briste | Chapter 9

Briste | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8


The security team was all too happy and eager to pull the tapes needed at Joe’s request.

“If you would please observe the queued tape that has audio and visual of yesterday’s altercation between Nurse MacKenzie and Doctor Beauchamp.”

The board members crowded around the screen as the tape played. It was muffled, but it was there. You could see me leave Captain Fraser’s room and call out, cordially, to Nurse MacKenzie. The entire conversation was clearly heard as well as the resounding slap of skin meeting skin when I had had enough. Laoghaire’s threat and smirk were also seen and heard.

The gray haired woman turned back to face me. “I see that Nurse MacKenzie’s recollection of the event was skewed even more than initially believed. Tell me Nurse, why is it that the slap Doctor Beauchamp bestowed was on your left cheek and yet today your right cheek is brightly decorated with a handprint? Is there another hospital employee being abusive towards you or are you just lying to see a talented Doctor’s career ended in a single go?”

Laoghaire’s face scrunched up in rage, she turned and began to hit me repeatedly while screaming, “You dumb bitch! You always get your way! You never have to live the hardships the rest of us have! Why don’t you and your unlovable carcass just die!”

Joe and all but one of the male board members pulled Laoghaire off of me, only the rodent-faced man stood off in the corner watching everyone else do the work. My lip was swollen and I could feel my eye begin to puff up from the blow she landed to it.

“Ah, self defense now is it?” The rodent-faced man said. “I see no harm in what she just did, what do you think?” He asked open-ended completely serious and not in the least bit mocking.

I gaped at him. Joe snorted in anger, “If you think that blatant attack was self-defense–a defense I may add that isn’t necessary–I’m curious to find out what you’ll think of the following videos I have for you to view?”

“Other videos?” The dark-haired board member panted, as he still struggled to contain Laoghaire.

“Yes, Mr. Buckhannan. Other vidoes. Marcus, could you please play the videos we discussed this morning?”

“Of course, Doctor Abernathy!” The skinny old man exclaimed, his white tufts of hair bobbing with his words.

On screen the date read from the first night we had Captain Fraser in our care. Laoghaire in street clothes snuck into his after visiting hours, leaving his door wide open. We couldn’t see in but we could hear her. We heard her moaning and eventually scream, thirty minutes later she would leave the room face flushed and shirt buttons askew. For three weeks this had happened.

“Where was the tech or nurse who was supposed to check on this man?” The dark-haired man exclaimed.

“On the nights Nurse MacKenzie snuck into Captain Fraser’s room it was always the same man. Joseph Murray.” Joe said. “I looked at the schedules and logs myself and I have them printed out for you. Marcus?”

The old man grabbed a file folder handing Mr. Buckhannan the paperwork in question.

“How did you come by all of this so fast, Doctor Abernathy?” The rodent-faced man said with a smirk. “You don’t expect us to believe that you just suddenly had all of this compiled to try and frame poor Nurse MacKenzie and get the wrong person off scott free?”

Joe smiled and shook his head. “Of course not, Mr. Dowell, I’ve been compiling this and other videos for more than a year.”

“HA! We haven’t had Mr. Fraser for over a year, you are lying and we can have you fired and deported back to the states!” Mr. Dowell cried in triumph.

“I have filed numerous complaints Mr. Dowell and you have refused to hold a hearing for the inappropriate behavior of one Nurse Laoghaire G. MacKenzie and Tech Joseph B. Murray. However, Nurse MacKenzie files a complaint and in less than twenty-four hours a full hearing has been issued against Doctor Claire Beauchamp? Please tell me how that works, sir?”

Marcus’s voice was timid, “Ah, Mr. Abernathy–I mean Doctor Abernathy, sir? Do you want me to play the OR tapes?”

Joe simply nodded. Mr. Buckhannan looked to the screen first and quickly turned away as the image and sounds of Nurse MacKenzie and Tech Joseph Murray fully engaged in intercourse filled the room.

“How many other tapes are there, Mr. Marcus?”

The old man smiled, “Mister! Oh my word sir I’ve never been so formally addressed, but to answer your inquiry I have over one-hundred thirty-two so far.”

“So far?”

“Aye sir, over one-hundred thirty-two so far this year. That’s what Mr. Abernathy and I have been compiling for a hearing, but no one has let us come forward.”

Mr. Dowell’s face blanched.

“Nurse MacKenzie, please turn in your badge. Another formal hearing will take place for what measures we will be taking against you.” The gray-haired woman said.

“As for you Doctor Beauchamp. Probation. No surgeries unless it’s with a currently assigned patient for six weeks. You are not to take overtime or extra shifts unless your direct supervisor is there. You will not be allowed to take on new patients until the six weeks is up. If you are called in to an emergency you must have a senior surgeon with you at all times.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Insight on the character Snape
or
KP organized their feelings on the fucktard that is Severus Snape

So I recently finished Daredevil S2, and I absolutely fell in love with Frank Castle (aka the Punisher). The Punisher is one of the main villains in S2, and when a friend questioned why I liked him so much, I was stumped. Said friend continued on to ask what made Castle win a place in my heart opposed to Severus Snape from Harry Potter, who in my opinion, is one of the worst characters.

What makes a mass murderer better than a double agent?

What makes a serial killer better than a man continually putting himself in danger for the greater good?

And what I concluded the deciding factor is: intention.

A character can be a major screw-up, but if their intentions are good then they are going to be a good person. They’re trying to change, trying to be better. But if they are an average, or even nice character, and their intentions are bad, they are automatically malicious and shady.

Frank Castle is a man driven by vengeance for the death of his family. He is a man hellbent on punishing those who are to blame for his continual suffering. But, he is not a bad guy.

Now granted, he does violently murder many people, and of course that’s not ok in any sense of the word. But, they’re all bad people. The Punisher’s victims are rapists and drug dealers and murderers, people who will harm others with little self regard. The Punisher “prevents deaths before there is a possibility of them happening”. His intent is good.

Besides the fact that Castle is a mass murderer, he is also a decent and honorable person.

-He does not want his actions used to represent or diminish people with PTSD even though it will save him from going to jail

-He is willing to be tortured, but does not allow a dog to get hurt

-He is very respectful (of good people). Calls women ma’am

-He is aware that he is a killer and does not make excuses or play victim (ie family murdered in front of him, shot in the head at point blank (yes, he’s alive. long story), war vet)

-He kills a guy who offered him child pornography

-He has a Medal of Honor

In conclusion; Frank Castle, yes is a serial killer, but also is a good man with good intention, which is why I respect and love the character.

···

Snape on the other hand….

First let me start off by saying yes, Snape’s character adds to the plot and JK Rowling wrote an interesting character. He has some redeeming qualities for instance, he did put himself at risk to help the Order, he did save Harry many times. But, like Castle, it comes down to intent.

Almost every action, every decision is driven by the man’s love obsession for Lily.

-He continually saves Harry only to help destroy the man who killed Lily/because Harry is the last piece of Lily

-He makes every Gryffindor’s life a living hell (which stemmed from his hatred of the Marauders)

-He joins in teasing students (bc he’s bitter?????)

-He bullies Neville because Longbottom inadvertently caused Lily’s death (but actually not at all)(some could argue because of Snape’s actions, he killed Lily)

-He uses his power as a teacher to assert dominance over fucking 11 year olds

-Traumatizes students enough to legitimately consider harming themselves to get out of seeing Snape (Sorcerer’s Stone chpt. 13 pg 217)

-He threatens to poison Neville’s toad (animal cruelty and probs not allowed at Hogwarts) and then takes points away from Gryffindor because he suspects (w/o proof) Hermione helped Neville save Trevor

-He continually bullies and verbally abuses a thirteen year old boy because the boy isn’t able to work magic quite right using his father’s wand

-Insults students (in this case Neville) right in front of other teachers (Remus) and classmates

-He becomes a student’s (someone who is supposed to feel safe around teachers) worst fear, even though said student’s parents were tortured to the brink of insanity, something he is constantly reminded of

-Snape then makes fun that he is the student’s biggest fear

-Immediately blames Remus when Sirius broke into Hogwarts

-Harshly criticizes Remus’ teaching style, infront of students who admire him

-Ignores Remus’ teaching plan and skips to werewolves

-Docks points for Granger “being an insufferable know-it-all” when she answered the question he asked

-He has students purposely write essays on how to kill werewolves for Remus to grade when he gets back from recovering from the full moon

-Blames Remus (and wants him locked up) for Sirius’s major fuck-up

-Takes credit for saving the Golden Trio from Remus

-OUTED REMUS TO THE ENTIRETY OF THE SLYTHERIN HOUSE/SCHOOL/PUBLIC/PARENTS/FUCKING WIZARDING WORLD

-Hints that he might poison 14 year olds to see if the antidote is correct

-Immediately blames Harry and his “determination to break rules” when his name comes out of the Goblet

-Makes fun of student’s appearance (“I see no difference” to Draco’s curse that enlarged Hermione’s teeth)

-Teases Harry for his (unwanted) attention from the press

-He provokes Sirius about being housebound, when Sirius would give his left arm and leg to go fight

-IS AN ENTIRE FUCKTARD DURING OCCLUMENCY

-He picks apart a minor’s (who has had no experience blocking people out nor has even been explained it very well) memories  

-After seeing how the Dursely’s abuse Harry, still believe the child is self-entitled

-Mocks Harry’s first strong romantic feelings (?????)

-Through what JK has said, and context we can conclude that James, although a major dick, wouldn’t go as far as killing Snape. But Snape, casted an unstable, unknown curse (Sectumsempra) with the intention of extremely harming James. (also Snape is the only one with the counter curse) (Order of the Phoenix pg. 647).

-Offers to poison Harry since he’s out of Veritaserum

-Insults Tonks’ new patronus (saying it looked “rather weak”) that changed to a wolf to support/pair with Remus

-Docks 50 points from Harry, before the year even starts, for being late

-Makes fun of Ron’s struggle to apparate

-Claims Harry’s knowledge of Inferi v. Ghosts is something a five year old would know (kids raised by muggles don’t learn about magic until they’re 11???)

-Harry sees Snape’s memories of when Snape told Voldemort about the Prophecy and subsequently caused James and Lily’s death (the only thing Snape seems to regret)  


These are just the main points that have been drawn up, a lot thanks to @greygryffindor


Now this post is purely a reflection of Snape and his actions. Not James’, not Lily’s, and not Sirius’.

That being said, I believe this commonly used quote perfectly sums up the whole James/Lily/Snape triangle:

“James was willing to sacrifice himself for Lily and Harry, while Snape was willing to sacrifice Harry and James for Lily.”

Back to the original point.

Castle is a bad man, with good intentions. Which is something I find very important in determining the worth of a character, and determining the worth of a person.

Snape was a bitter man, to which his intentions only ever benefited himself.

“‘After all this time’, Snape shows Dumbledore that he cared nothing for anyone who wasn’t Lily. He hadn’t grown as a person, or made any attachment whatsoever to the boy who constantly battled Voldemort because of him. He hadn’t made any real attachment to anybody, because he was still living in the past, driven relentlessly by the ghost of a young woman whom he never actually understood as a person - because if he had, he wouldn’t have thought she would find becoming a Death Eater impressive, let alone think she’d consider it acceptable to bully the son she gave her life for.

“Even worse, if he hadn’t mentally matured by now, he wasn’t ever going to. Because spying is a dangerous business and the chances were that Snape wasn’t going to last long once Dumbledore was gone (not a guarantee, there was certainly a chance for his survival, but realistically, not a large one). He was ‘always’ going to remain this same man, frozen permanently in a stage of bitter petty hate and punishing the innocent for the crimes of the dead until the day of his death. JKR herself confirms that Snape held onto his hatred and didn’t let it go until his literal last breath - far too late to do anything about it.”

- @lupinatic


And yes, the Marauders were petty, crude and obnoxious towards Snape. However, Snape was not innocent in the feud too. He was just as cruel back. The Marauders grew out of their teenage bullying, Snape’s aged with him.

The final issue I (currently) have with Severus Snape is his relationship with Lily.

He is obsessive, abusive, and unhealthy.

His persistence, even after her death, is honestly gross. She rejects him and he continues to pine over her, making her (and in this case, the reader) uncomfortable. 

Part of the reason I have such a strong opinion about this, is because of how revered the Snape/Lily relationship is. His stalker behavior is romanticized and glorified as ‘true love’ and ‘devotion’.

But in reality, the basis of Snape’s personality are the fundamentals of rape culture and domestic violence.

No means no

Bullying someone will not win them over.

Treating people badly does not equate to love. 

Obsessing in private is not romantic. 

Hurting people because you were hurt is not ok.

So many people praise Snape and view his actions as romantic and inspiring. This character is glorified as a hero and it scares me that some impressionable reader will mistake this man’s actions for proper behavior.

A character can act badly but still be a true person.
A character can also act true but still be a bad person.
It all comes down to intent. And Severus Snape’s intention is anything but good.
-KP