#absolutely love this idea of them both being art students in love

[cryingboyy]

drawing(s) context: Stan is taking a pic of Kyle in a greenish pool, while having a small ""panic"" about finding his bestie more cute than he should. he will definitely be drawing this pic of Kyle later. + a extra later scene.

a lot of text below u can ignore lol ! </3 (also cuz i can change things later, im very indecisive)

in this college "au"(?) thing im doing, Stan and Kyle both study Visual Arts and Performing Arts, as they both like creating art (drawing, painting, etc).

Performing Arts: Kyle is very theatrical so he would participate in Plays very often, and Stan focus on Cinema so he would also participate in Plays but offside and in the making of them.

Visual Arts: both likes drawing/painting, appart from that, Kyle studies/do Sculpture and Stan cinematography and photography. (ofc in a college theres wayy more than just it but this is the basic info i did for them)

combining both courses, would be perfect as they both mainly would participate in projects together (even in different areas) and as indicates in this drawing, they would use it for "smaller"/especific projects that doesnt involve a whole thing (like a theater play)

(the colleges' system i use in this au is based in how it works in my country, which can be different from others, here each private college u can pick 2 courses) EVEN if theres incorrect info, i dont really mind its just an silly au about sp so yeah no need to be 100% correct (also cuz im a high schooler so i dont rlly know lol)

used a photo ref!!

[rmstitanics]

* GENERAL OBSERVATIONS, PART THREE.

ASTEROIDS & CELESTIAL BODIES

ASTEROID ORPHEUS (3361) CONJUNCT CHIRON may represent one who looks to their past for creative inspiration. They’ll often use their preferred form of art in an attempt to understand traumatizing events or process any emotions that may still linger.

ASTEROID APOLLO (1862) in the 8H could signify an individual who enjoys creating or consuming media about controversial and dark topics.

When I see ASTEROID PANDORA (55) in the 10H, I immediately wonder whether the individual with this placement has experienced some sort of chaos or crises regarding their public image. Maybe they’ve had traumatic experiences with their main circle of friends, or maybe they’ve even received some level of backlash on social media for a flawed interaction. Whatever these natives have endured, they probably yearn to control public perception of their character in an attempt to prevent misunderstandings.

Check which house ASTEROID ARISTOTELES (6123) is located in within your natal chart to find where you crave the most knowledge and wisdom! As an example, I have my Aristoteles asteroid in the 8H of transformative experiences, death, and “taboo” topics — and I’m now a practicing divination witch who enjoys paranormal investigation.

Due to difficulty with turning intuitive ideas into real achievements, 9H CHIRON individuals might find the process of outlining an essay or project to be particularly challenging. They’re the types of students who change their thesis a bunch of times before a paper’s due date.

PLANETS IN SIGNS & HOUSES

SATURN 1H placements might have people pleasing tendencies at some point in their lives due to a fear of never meeting others’ expectations.

SAGITTARIUS SATURNS likely grew up in households where one or both parents was strict and / or religious. The challenge awaiting these folks in life is to pursue exploration of knowledge outside of what was taught to them in their youth. They probably enjoy philosophy or history, and could possibly grow up to be spiritual but not religious.

LEO MERCURY placements, was your writing style ever described as “flowery” by your teachers or fellow students before? Because this placement TOTALLY gives me the vibes of a flowery and dramatic writing style.

One could theoretically use their JUPITER placement to discover two things: 1) The field of study where they have experienced the most growth throughout their academic career and / or 2) their best academic subject. To do this, look at Jupiter’s degrees and house. I have CANCER JUPITER placed in the 9TH HOUSE in my chart, and I absolutely adore law, history, and philosophy! However, I’ve had to undergo the most growth in Cancerian concepts such as life skills in the home and actively listening to others.

CAPRICORN JUPITERS are prone to having a “the end justifies the means” philosophy when it comes to achieving their goals. They also might struggle with perspective taking / putting themselves in others’ shoes, particularly when they perceive the individual in question as someone outside of what they consider “normal”.

6H MOONS strike me as the type who love being around animals MUCH more than they love being around people, especially if the majority of their personal planets are in a water sign.

ASPECTS

SUN SQUARE URANUS indicates memorable students whose teachers / professors will remember them for many years to come.

Hard MERCURY-PLUTO aspects could struggle with maintaining a consistent routine for studying, especially if Mercury is in retrograde in the chart.

MERCURY TRINE JUPITER placements LOVE yapping in class, but it’ll either be with their peers while the teacher is talking or by frequent class participation. If you’re the class participation type, you’ve probably had a teacher say “does anyone OTHER than (your name) know the answer?” before 😭

Although this placement does make for great activists who are not afraid to call out injustice when they see it, LILITH CONJUNCT MERCURY folks NEED to prioritize being tactful due to a natural tendency to bluntly say whatever’s on their mind with no filter.

SATURN-NEPTUNE aspects need to practice intense discernment when it comes to politics — fact check everything and don’t just believe everything you see / hear on the internet or news without taking the time to research it for yourself!

Hard ASCENDANT-SUN aspects tend to be noticeably different people in public versus private spaces. Your first impression of them will likely be VERY different from the truth of the person that they are behind closed doors.

MIDHEAVEN OPPOSITE VENUS placements are amazingly creative individuals whose art may play a major role in their own identity, but they simultaneously might have a major fear of sharing that art with others. Peer review in class is an absolute NIGHTMARE for them.

[morganbritton132]

I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

[cursedonyx]

Hii! I saw your ideas for one shots you posted recently and I would absolutely LOVE to read all of them, but especially the one with Ominis, where Garreth slips Ominis his new potion and MC is helping Ominis with its 'hard' effects 🤭

So if you have time and if you'd want to write it, I would love to read it! ❤️

I have FINALLY gotten around to doing this ask, and as I’d had this in my drafts for ages I thought why not make it an eleventh-hour post for Kinktober too? I would have done more for Kinktober but, like our favourite old faithful that hasn’t been charged in a while, my smut battery was firmly depleted for quite some time.

This doesn’t follow any specific Kinktober prompt, but what the hell, hopefully you all enjoy this little tale of poor Ominis being utterly humiliated and thoroughly fucked.

Masterlist

Don’t Drug Your Friends

(Unless They’re Ominis and in Need of a Good Fucking)

Synopsis – After a multitude of experimental potions and a variety of undesirable effects, no one at Hogwarts wants to be a guineapig for Garreth’s new brews. In desperation, Garreth resorts to underhanded methods in order to test his newest concoction, and slips it into Ominis’ tea. Unfortunately for the poor Heir of Slytherin, the effects are both humiliating and unconquerable until the woman he’s secretly been in love with for the last two years offers to help put the proverbial basilisk back to sleep.

Word Count – 4.9k

Warnings – Female MC, House unspecified, NSFW, MDNI, dubcon, drugging, masturbation, handjob M!Receiving, oral M!Receiving, PIV, and a very embarrassed and needy Sub!Ominis.

All characters aged 18+.

Happy Kinktober.

Springtime at Hogwarts was a time for most students to pretend they were studying, as they instead dreamt about who they were going to ask on a date to Hogsmeade for Valentines, gossiped about the latest scandals, or got hyped for Quidditch. For the seventh years, it was a time to begin to panic about their upcoming exams and pretend they weren’t.

For Garreth Weasley, it was more a struggle than for most. Since the end of sixth year, when he’d convinced Lucan Brattleby to try his latest potion, and the poor lad had ended up in the Hospital Wing with scales, feathers, and the ability to burp luminous, sausage-like bubbles that took days to pop, the entirety of Gryffindor House had put a blanket ban on accepting so much as a biscuit from him. The other houses learned very quickly after this that no matter how much gold he offered, no matter how many favours, no matter how much he begged, it just wasn’t worth spending a week in hospital for.

But Garreth knew the only way to discover ✨The Perfect Potion™✨ was to practice, practice, practice, and in order to make sure his experiments actually achieved what he thought they should, he needed to test them. He always made sure he had a few poison antidotes on hand just in case, so he wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about.

So it was that Sebastian and Ominis found themselves accosted by the boisterous redhead one early February morning in their seventh year, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Seriously, Sallow, I’ll pay you fifty galleons. Fifty! Think what you could do with that money!”

“Fuck off,” came the terse reply. “I said no eight times already, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“But if I can get this to work ahead of Valentines-”

“Unclog your ears, Weasley, he said no,” Ominis said, using his wand to pour a cup of tea with the cool indifference only a Slytherin pureblood seemed able to master.

Garreth narrowed his eyes. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance, Gaunt. Heard your family’s fallen on hard times.”

“It’s no secret,” Ominis said, supremely unbothered. Then, a tiny smirk touched his lips. “That said, I’m surprised you’ve got fifty galleons to offer in your entire family’s account.”

Unlike Ominis, Garreth was just a little bit touchy about his family’s fortunes. He needed to make this potion work ahead of Valentine’s so he could sell it for a huge profit! It would be so popular and he’d be rich and famous and would be able to make sure all his family were comfortable, what was so wrong about that?

Perhaps this was why Garreth decided to do what he did. Maybe he was just in a bad mood and wanted to cause a bit of trouble. Or maybe, just maybe, he was having withdrawals from seeing his potions at work and was determined to do anything to get his creation tested. He pretended to see Peeves causing havoc on the other side of the Tower, and when Sebastian turned to look, he upended the tiny, pink potion into Ominis’ tea.

He shared a grin with Leander, and groped for a notepad as Ominis picked up his cup.

“Alright, fine, suit yourselves. But it would have made an absolute killing, and I’d have given you commission for your help,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Whatever.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’ve enough to be worrying about without dealing with beetles falling out of my ears, thanks.”

Ominis shook his head and sipped his tea, closing his eyes at the warmth that slid past his lips and down his throat. He let his mind wander a little, and as it always did when he let it have some form of free reign, it landed squarely on the most incredible woman he’d ever known, the Hero of Hogwarts, for whom he had harboured a secret, burning love since their ill-fated trip to the Scriptorium.

A slim line appeared between his brows as the warmth from the tea seemed to settle under his collar, before spreading over his chest, creeping down his torso to pool between his thighs, and something began to stir.

Ominis, like any other man of his age, was no stranger to random bouts of wilful disobedience from his personal basilisk, and so he elected to ignore it, crossing an elegant leg over the other, hoping no one else had noticed. He took a slow breath and another drink, wondering vaguely why this particular standing to attention was coupled with something that felt concerningly like arousal. Yes, thinking of her certainly fired him up him like nothing else did, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything particularly ungentlemanly. He was in public, after all.

His hands tightened on his cup as the unspecified heat began to intensify, his half-mast blooming full, and as he heard Garreth leaning forward in his chair, and the scratch of quill on parchment, he began to put two and two together.

Uh-oh.

“Soooo…” Garreth said, in a voice so overly casual that it sent a thrill of fear through anyone in the vicinity that had recently had a drink. “How are we all feeling today? Normal? Bit hot under the collar? Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Ominis faced him, quite certain that steam might be curling up from under his shirt as his heart began to pound.

“What have you done?” he managed.

Garreth laughed. “Only what I had to. Don’t worry, the effects won’t last more than a few hours. I think.”

There was a clatter as Sebastian lunged across the low table, followed by a smash as the teapot shattered. Garreth yelped as Sebastian gripped handfuls of his robes and wrenched him out of his seat.

“What did you do?” he demanded, snarling.

“I needed to test my potion,” Garreth said, shoving him back. “Just slipped him a bit, that’s all!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you slipped him a bit!?” Sebastian barked. “What the hell is it meant to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, that’s why I needed to test it,” Garreth said, proudly. “It’s only a variant of a love potion that’s meant to make anyone you like want you in bed, nothing to worry about. Gaunt, tell me exactly what you’re feeling, spare no detail.”

“Are you insane?” Ominis hissed, hunching forward as his arousal twitched, nudging insistently against his belt and threatening to pop right out over the top of his waistband. “You better have an antidote for this, you cretin!”

Garreth gulped and edged behind Leander as Sebastian drew his wand, aiming it at his nethers. “Antidote? It’s only in the testing stages, I’ve not had time to-” he yelped as Sebastian fired a curse at him, and Leander had to put out a small fire on his robes.

Ominis felt his cheeks sear as another thrum of unspecified interest surged through him, his mouth drying. There was an insistent, needy ache growing in his lower abdomen, and he got the feeling that if he didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to be in serious trouble. It didn’t help that he could sense his friends staring at him, Garreth’s lack of subtlety and his shortening breath all but confirming the state he was in.

“Undercroft,” he managed to growl to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t follow me.”

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, as Ominis tugged his robes tight about himself and rose.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to stand as casually as he could without revealing his significantly growing problem. “Do try not to kill that little bastard while I’m gone, I’d like to do it myself.”

The cool of the Undercroft’s stone walls did little to alleviate the heat in his body as Ominis shouldered his way through the hidden entrance, his pace increasing as he half ran towards a stack of crates at the back, positioned deliberately to hide a pile of cushions and blankets for the rare instances when he just couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Ominis hissed between his teeth and turned his wand about the Undercroft, hoping that she wasn’t down here. Merlin, he’d never live it down if she saw him like this.

Hell, it was embarrassing enough to be in this predicament, but for his friends to know as well! The thought scalded him, making him cringe. It was worse that they knew why he’d gone off by himself. Yes, everybody did it, but that didn’t mean everyone should bloody know about it when he did! It was hard enough to find alone time as it was, but for anyone else to know… Ominis groaned. With the way gossip spread, the whole bloody castle would know that the infamously stoic Ominis Gaunt had needed to dash off and have a wank by the time he reemerged, if his past luck was anything to go by.

No matter. The state he was in, it wouldn’t take long, and then he could try and forget about the whole, sordid mess. After he’d murdered Garreth, of course.

He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, bracing a hand against the wall as his mind flooded with thoughts of her, as it always did when he needed to attend to himself. He focused on the faint brush of her hand against the back of his when they studied together, her fingertips cool as she handed him a book or stack of parchment, each light touch sending sparks through his skin that never failed to stiffen his cock. He whimpered softly as he recalled those few times he let her embrace him, his attention always zeroing in on how her ample breasts pressed against his chest, his hands resting just above the curve of her hip. What he wouldn’t give to feel these things without the cursed barrier of her clothes…

And Merlin, the sound of her voice, low and rich, some sultry note always winding about underneath it, as if she was but a moment away from singing or whispering nothing but sinful filth into his ear, her dark chuckles, the freedom of her laughter never failing to set his heart to racing.

Then the scent of her hair… citrus and exotic blossoms from some far off, sun-drenched land infused his mind as he wished and wished he knew what it was like to have those silken strands fall over his face as she rode him.

Ominis fought with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop thinking about her, imagining all those things she could do to him that would only ever be in his mind. She was too good for him, too perfect, too glorious, but it never hurt to imagine. Imagination never hurt anyone. His lower lip found its way between his teeth as he took himself in his hand, instinctively setting up a rapid pace that, when he’d been this worked up before, had brought him blissful relief in little under a minute.

But something was wrong. He could feel his hand sliding along his length, feel the pressure as he tightened his grip, but it brought him about as much relief as sticking it in a jar of numbing potion would have.

“Oh, come on,” Ominis hissed, gripping himself tighter in a vain effort to evoke some of the promised euphoria such an act usually provided him, even going so far as to spit in his palm, but it didn’t work. To his horror, it served only to heighten his need, and brought him no relief.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Almost an hour later, Ominis emerged, limping and red-faced, his breathing ragged and his hair dishevelled, his cloak pulled tight about his body.

“Well?” Garreth asked, eagerly, quill and notepad at the ready.

“Piss off,” Ominis snarled. “If you can’t get me an antidote in the next five minutes then what good are you?”

Sebastian shouldered Garreth out of the way and leaned in close.

“No better?”

“Fuck off. I don’t want anyone near me.”

“What about New Girl?” Leander piped up, clearly enjoying himself far more than was appropriate for the Slytherin’s suffering. “Bet you wouldn’t mind her being around you right now.”

Ominis spat a string of violent curses in Parseltongue at the thought of the Hero of Hogwarts assisting him with his predicament once again, before he tried to push away the idea as it sent another painful thrum of arousal through him. Unfortunately, the idea of her didn’t want to be banished and remained stubbornly inside his head, doing things no self-respecting woman would ever do, let alone to him.

“She hasn’t been new for two years,” Sebastian said, placing his foot firmly on Leander’s hip and shoving him away as Ominis clung to the wall, biting his tongue to stop himself groaning. “If you’re not going to help, then sod off.” He gripped Ominis’ shoulder, leaning close, and Ominis wriggled away, hissing as his skin tingled. “Mate, maybe he’s got a point. She’s good at potions, maybe she could do something about this? Plus, you like her, and she likes-”

“Never,” Ominis growled. “She can never hear of this.”

“Okay, then maybe we should get Professor Sharp, he’d be able to-”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will kill you myself!” Ominis snarled.

It was getting decidedly hard to think, and Ominis huddled against the wall, bent almost in two as wave upon wave of rising need threw itself about his insides. If he didn’t do something soon, he was either going to explode or go completely insane. It was all he could do not to grab at himself, despite the fact that he was in public and he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit.

Sebastian shared a worried look with Garreth, whose eagerness to see the effects of his potion in action had worn off upon seeing how decidedly uncomfortable Ominis was. Yeah, it had been kind of funny to see him so embarrassed, but this was a problem. How could he sell his potion if the effects were this drastic, and didn’t wear off quickly?

“Maybe just… I don’t know, try and sleep it off?” Sebastian suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t know how else to help you.”

“I know a way you can,” Leander laughed, and quickly shut up as both Sebastian and Ominis glared at him, drawing their wands.

“Go up to the Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, giving Ominis a little shove between the shoulder blades that made him yelp. “Garreth, you go too, there’s potion stations up there, and you better get to work on an antidote, or I’ll hang you off the Astronomy Tower by your balls.”

With a barely restrained whine, Ominis disillusioned himself and all but ran for the stairs, the outline of his figure vanishing as he rounded the bend. Garreth took one look at Sebastian’s murderous expression and followed, jotting notes on his parchment as he went. No sooner had he vanished than Sebastian took off, pelting through the castle, seeking the one person he hoped might be able to put an end to his brother’s suffering.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

“How long’s he been like this?” she asked, matching Sebastian’s pace as they hurtled towards the Room of Requirement.

“A bit more than an hour or so, I think,” Sebastian panted, struggling to keep up. “It’s really bad.”

She cursed under her breath, her long, dark hair swishing to and fro. “What did Garreth say it was meant to do?”

“Turn people on so they’re easier to get into bed,” Sebastian replied, glowering. “Or words to that effect. He wants to sell it ahead of Valentine’s Day.”

She made a face, her small nose wrinkling. “Creep. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to worry about love potions. Poor Ominis.” They slowed as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, and she glanced at him. “I presume he’s… um… tried the usual methods?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I guess so. Didn’t ask, he’s embarrassed enough. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I’ve told you.”

“Me in particular?” she raised a brow, and Sebastian hesitated. It wasn’t a secret to those who knew him well that Ominis was madly in love with the woman before him, but he hadn’t thought she’d figured it out. His silence seemed to be all the answer she needed, and a little smile touched her lips. “Leave it to me. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“What are you going to-” Sebastian began, but she’d vanished into the Room of Requirement before he could finish. With a low sigh, he crossed his fingers, counted to ten, then followed, finding the large space mostly empty, save for a sweaty Garreth standing before a table of five cauldrons, each of them hissing different coloured steam. His nose was bleeding.

“What happened there?” Sebastian asked, and Garreth glowered.

“That cow just punched me,” he said, thickly. “Didn’t say a damn word and ran off to the bedroom.”

Sebastian grinned. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

Garreth wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Shut up and help me with these, would you? Whatever she’s planning, I hope it works, because none of these antidotes look promising right now.”

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Ominis twisted and writhed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His clothes lay discarded on the floor of the small room, the light satin sheets of the bed dragging across his fevered skin as he desperately sought some form of relief from the blazing need surging through his body. But no matter how much he rutted against the mattress, no matter how fervently he beat himself, he couldn’t break through the barrier between desperate desire and the enduring numbness that denied him, over and over.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. He couldn’t say how long he’d been tangled in these sheets, moaning softly as he chased a high that tormented him as it danced away, again and again. His mind was fragmented, consumed by a primal, visceral need for relief, for this aching agony to end, for the heavens to open and just please let him come.

So scattered was he that he barely registered the door opening, the footsteps hushing over the carpet as he gripped handfuls of his hair, curled in a ball on his side. But he heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled that torturously familiar scent that was so deliciously her, and his tormented mind took on a crystal clarity as pure, unadulterated panic flashed through him.

“No, no!” he gasped. “No, not you!”

She pulled up short, her brows drawing together a little as Ominis struggled to pull the fraying threads of his brain back together.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” he whimpered softly as another agonising pang of need surged through him, intensified by the fact that it was her standing there, and he curled up tighter, his hands tensing in his hair, trying to hide his shamed face as he tried to burrow under the sheets. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She was concerningly quiet for a moment, then her footsteps sounded once more as she approached, and Ominis bit down on a high-pitched whine as she settled on the bed, her weight pulling the sheets tight against his skin. He fought not to writhe, every nerve ending on fire as he curled up tighter.

“Please… please leave,” he begged. “I-I c-can’t…”

“This needs to be fixed,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Ominis, you can’t go on like this. I want to help you.”

“Then get me a fucking antidote,” he spat, his limbs trembling as he fought to remain still. He didn’t care that he swore in front of her, something he vowed never to do in front of a lady, he was too concerned with retaining some miniscule shred of dignity. Shame and humiliation burned a torturous path through his body as he bit down on another low whine, his cock throbbing at the thought of her being so close to him, her beautiful scent, her delicious voice sending waves of primal desire through him.

She couldn’t be here. She had to leave, or he was going to do something they would both regret.

It seemed she either couldn’t sense the danger, however, or she didn’t care. She slid closer to him, a cool hand finding his shoulder, such a simple touch making his hair stand on end as he fought with himself not to grab at her. He had to maintain control, no matter how difficult. He was a gentleman, he was proper, he wasn’t one of those base louts that thought with their dicks and followed wherever they pointed, he was… he was…

Fucking hell. He was desperate for her.

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and little by little he uncurled enough to reveal his face, his skin flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “Will you let me help you?”

Her hand slid over his shoulder to his chest, and Ominis bit down on a whine. How often had he tormented himself with fantasies of this exact thing happening? It almost made him want to weep with the frustration of it all, because he knew all too well that nothing would come of this but further humiliation.

“P-please… don’t,” he whimpered as she peeled the sheets back, moving closer to him as she trailed her fingers over his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. “It won’t… it won’t d-do anything… I c-can’t feel-”

His next words were cut off by a yelp as the heel of her hand grazed the aching head of his length through the sheets, sending a surge of pleasure so powerful through him that it snapped his head back.

He could feel her touch.

His hands flew out, one latching onto her wrist, the other winding into her hair. She came to him willingly, her lips brushing his hesitantly for a heartbeat before he crushed his mouth to hers, moaning helplessly as she found his aching steel through the sheets, her palm curving around the shape of him.

Ominis launched up, hooking an arm around her neck, his free hand shoving at the covers. There was no longer room for hesitancy or fear or embarrassment – any last shred of lingering dignity had been eviscerated by her kiss.

All Ominis knew is that he needed to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, and to be fucked. Right. Now.

He shoved at the sheets covering him as her lips moved from his to lavish attention on the side of his neck, her hand travelling down his chest sparking through his nerves. A high, desperate whine escaped him when she showed no hesitation and wrapped her hand around his fevered length, the soothing cool of her skin a balm to his burning flesh.

Even through his maddening haze of desperation and need, Ominis was dimly aware of the inexplicable skill she displayed, each swift, twisting stroke of her hand designed by some omniscient power, it seemed, so perfectly did it make his body sing. Her pace was steady, her grip firm but not tight, and his mind went to pieces. In all his furtive, shameful imaginings of being with her at last, he had never once suspected that she would know just how perfectly to treat him.

She murmured gentle encouragement to him, her words a song of sin and fire as her touch sent him ever higher on a glittering ladder that seemed heaven bound. Ominis bucked helplessly against her, his hands alternately clutching and tugging at her clothes, knowing in some deep, primal way that the simple touch of her hand, no matter how glorious, would never be enough.

It seemed she understood this as well, for her lips left his neck, trailing down his body, each press of her lips tensing the muscles they touched. Something in the back of his mind set up a wild protest, the part of him that was still human underneath his frantic desire screaming that he would never live this down, but even this stubborn part of him was silenced when a searing heat enveloped him from head to base, hard at the edges and so deliciously soft in the centre, something long and dexterous winding about his entire length.

The sensation of her mouth on him in such a way pushed a yell that was almost a scream from deep within his lungs, flying up his throat so harshly that it roughed the edges of his voice, his hands flew to her head, winding his fingers into her hair and driving himself as deep as he could. He didn’t care that he might choke her, that he might make her wretch, he just needed more of that sensation, more of this heavenly feeling of pure euphoria.

She didn’t choke, and she didn’t retch. She tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, her throat closing over the tip of him as he threw his head back, yelping in wordless ecstasy. Her arms wound around his waist as his legs fell apart, anchoring them together as her head bobbed at a steady, rapid pace, and if Ominis had the gift of sight, he would have seen the entire cosmos.

"Fuck... yes..." Ominis gasped. "Right there... don't stop, please don't stop..."

And yet it still wasn’t enough. Though each swipe of her tongue drew a whining moan from his lips like silver thread, the pulsing of her throat in time with his racing heart, his body stubbornly refused to fall over the edge upon which he teetered. Almost rabid, Ominis gripped he hair, pulling her back up to crush his lips to hers, tugging at her clothes so forcefully that her blouse tore.

In response, she pinned his wrists over his head. He had no time to protest this as she straddled him in the next moment, leaning down to capture his lips with hers once more, holding him tight with one hand as the other slid down, grasping him firmly and angling him up.

Ominis could never have imagined the euphoria that he experienced next. One moment, he was aching, spit-slick and cool in the empty air, and the next he was enveloped in searing satin and silken fire. If her mouth had been the cosmos, this was heaven itself. He could barely draw breath to moan as she seated him fully inside her, and even through his primal haze, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it, that he, Ominis Gaunt, was being loved by her.

He thrust up with abandon, garbled pleas and frenzied, worshipful praise flowing from his mouth between urgent kisses, his hands held firmly above his head as she rode him like a graphorn. Her hair swung down, the silken tresses brushing over his face and chest like he’d always dreamed of. He began to feel a delicious, prickling heat pooling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, his skin tingling as he ran full pelt towards the edge. Something within him knew he needed to savour this, to commit each and every detail to memory as she herself released a soft, breathy moan, but that single sound, the knowledge that came with it being that he was making her feel good was too much for him.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! YES! YES!"

The spell was broken, the potion overcome as Ominis’ entire body went taught, his balls drawing up tight as he finally, finally came like a fucking hose. His head snapped back, his moans rising to echoing yelps as his back arched, his hands pinioned above his head as he writhed, the sensation so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before, going on and on and on until he was certain he might go mad. But end it did, and he fell back, utterly boneless and exhausted, his breath trembling as his body quivered, the warm weight of her comforting as she settled to lie atop him, her lips soothing once more at his neck.

“Are you alright?” she asked, after some small time had passed. Ominis could only mumble non-words, his mind still scattered, his not quite feeling his body as he should now that there was this sudden absence of primal need. Little by little, the last few hours came back to him, and he felt his chest grow tight. Wincing as fresh shame burned a path through him, Ominis turned his face away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed, his voice cracking. “Y-you shouldn’t have… my behaviour… I never should…”

“Hush,” she brushed his hair back, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. “I was happy to, Ominis.” She pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, and he curled into her automatically, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The lingering ache in his body melded with his utter humiliation, contrasting bizarrely with a feeling of purest bliss. He held onto it, onto her, knowing that once she left this bed, this room, she’d never want to speak to him again. She had helped him, yes, but that was what she did. It wasn’t because she liked him. How could anyone like someone as depraved as him?

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a little squeeze, her lips brushing his ear.

“You know, I’d be happy to do this again,” she murmured, and he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his skin as his heart leapt. “With you, and only you. Only… let’s leave the experimental potions out of it next time, hm?”

Ominis was only too happy to agree.

[year2000electronics]

I absolutely LOVELOVELOVE your Reverse Falls HCs from what I've seen :). I would love to ask more about so much aspects haha.

What is Reverse Ford's main goal in this universe?

What is Ford' and Stanley's backstory?

Mind sharing some info about Reverse! Dipper and Reverse! Mabel?

HOKAY. i will use this ask to talk a little about the reverse stans' backstories because i have Some Ideas. as always full answer under cut bc its got images and rambles galore

in my mind, the gleeful family association with magic & the supernatural starts with caryn's phone psychic business, and ford having "The Gift" while stan ABSOLUTELY doesnt. but in real terms that means just having a really strong intuition and being able to guess well. (at least thats what filbrick and caryn thing. ford genuinely thinks he has some semblance of psychic ability and so does his mom, but they just havent properly honed it yet) and so ford is the preferred child for that, instead of his smarts really. ford is also obsessed with the supernatural still, but it's more focused on the magical aspect.

ford and stan's relationship ends up being close because stan is the only one who believes ford about magic. i mean there are other reasons but thats very important to ford

ford, seeing how stan has always had his back by believing what he says about magic, offers to try and "tutor" stan into having The Gift. drilling him for hours by holding up cards and making him guess, stuff like that. but yknow, since both of them are kinda clamoring to inherit their mom's business, stan kinda ends up relying on ford for everything, and theyre taking on almost a mentor-student relationship when theyre Literally Brothers.

instead of west coast tech, the scholarship ford is being offered is for a famous performing arts school after his teachers saw him take the leads in school plays year after year. they tell him a scout will be at their school's talent show, and ford decides he's going to put on a stage magic show (with stan as his assistant). this time, not only is stan worried about ford leaving, but also, since they've both been working towards a really similar thing (performing for a crowd), he's really worried he'll never get a chance to show off that HE has skill, too! ford brushes him off about this saying that he'll put a good word in for stan when he's at performing arts school and stan is like "ok." and agrees to be his assistant.

in the middle of ford's show, he goes rogue, trying to show the scouts that he can be just as skilled as ford is, and completely screws up the trick he ends up performing. ford doesnt get that internship, ford is furious, so is filbrick, stan gets kicked out, you know the rest.

ford goes to backupsmore and double-majors in both theatre and whatever he majors in in the show. he plans to move to gravity falls because of its high ratings of weirdness. after stan got kicked out, instead of becoming a traveling salesman, he becomes a street magician who doubles as a pickpocket. stealing peoples' watches and stuff. he runs around all over the place

ford digs up four mystic amulets once he gets to gravity falls and stays there for a while, and is like "oh man i can USE these". so how i imagine the amulets to work is that they're kinda like, a conduit through which you can learn legit magic? like casting spells and stuff. but he probably only needs one so he keeps the other three in his house (and that's how the kids eventually find the others)

and of course thats how he starts up the tent of telepathy!

but he wants more. he wants to make the world pay for ever calling him a six fingered freak. and he wants to prove to the world that his magic IS real. he can't just lie sequestered in gravity falls forever. so he goes hunting for more answers about gravity falls' weirdness, and how he might be able to get more POWER to make a show so good the entire world will see... and that's how he summons will cipher! will tells him about the portal, and how itll open up a dimension of weirdness into his own, and ford accepts on those terms, looking out just for himself. then he asks fidds to come help with the portal, fidds walks out on him, he shackles will to him in a deal, but they both realize they don't have the manpower to run the portal. reluctantly, ford calls stan up, telling him to come and that it's important.

...but of course that doesnt go well. stan initiates a physical fight and ford ends up getting sucked into the portal. will is left alone with stan, who tells him he can buzz off because HE certainly doesnt want him around. stan works for the next 30 years to get ford back because he wants ford to finally be the one who has to suck up to HIM and owe HIM something.

at some point, mason and mabel's parents become unable to take care of them and give them to stan. he reluctantly takes them in, but soon after, not only do they find the amulets but also journal 2, and they end up reactivating ford's deal with will, getting passed down to the "next of kin" after stan rejected it. AND THATS SORTA WHERE THE SHOW STARTS. THUMBS UP.

[soupandsimple]

Scones, The Bun & A Kiss (With Remus Lupin)

[ accidentally interrupting husband Remus’s class ]

* FLUFF 🥰

** warnings? pregnant reader

This was requested: see the ask here

………………….

Owning your own bakery usually left you with very little free time during the day. That wasn’t a complaint though; you loved that you could make a living doing one of your favorite things. Now that you were pregnant however, and per your husband Remus’s request, you had to leave a lot of the day to day work to your two trained, trustful employees.

That’s not to say you stopped showing up at the shop. You’d still pop in regularly to help with custom orders or just to see how things were running which almost always led to some leisure baking on your part. Today particularly, you made a couple of batches of chocolate chip scones and decided to take some to Remus to share with his coworkers.

Arriving at the castle that afternoon, you walked to his classroom and respectfully knocked at his door just as you always had in case he was with a student who needed extra help or in a meeting with someone.

Inside, at the sound of the knock, Remus stopped mid sentence, held up a finger to his students and walked to the door to answer it.

“Hi love!” you greeted excitedly at the sight of him.

Remus didn’t reply but instead simply raised his eyebrows in amusement and pushed the door further open so you could see what was in progress at the moment.

Peeking in, you saw he had a full class in session and instantly drew back and quieted your voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry Rem. I just thought I’d bring some goodies down for you and your coworkers…” you said, holding up the basket filled with chocolate chip scones and a silky ribbon tied on the handle. “I totally forgot you had a class right now though, mommy brain must be coming early for me.”

Remus chuckled and lifted his wrist to look at his watch. You took a glance at it too and saw it was a quarter till three- immediately your original plan changed.

“Actually, can I maybe give these to your class instead?” you asked.

“Well, we are pretty busy but…. I’ll allow it, Mrs. Lupin” he said charmingly.

You smiled pretty and walked through the doorway. All the students silenced and turned to you at the sound of your footsteps coming in.

“Class, this is my beautiful wife, Mrs. Y/N Lupin,” Remus announced as he closed the door.

Some of the young girls at different desks aww’d which made you remember all too well how you were just like them at that age; just absolutely in love with the idea of love.

“Annnndd….” you sing songed. “This is baby Lupin” you rubbed your protruding belly.

Remus smiled, admiring the way you didn’t shy away from being in front of his students despite only just meeting them.

“Now I didn’t mean to interrupt your class but I brought these pastries for Mr. Lupin and his coworkers,” you told the students, lifting the basket in your hand. “And, while learning about the dark arts is important I do also know it can be daunting at times. So how about this, here’s a little treat from me to you.”

You passed out the small, fresh baked goods, going from desk to desk and once you were sure everyone got one, returned to the back of the classroom where Remus still stood. Your basket was almost empty, save for three scones.

Both of you stood for a moment just watching the students delve into the treats with sounds and chatter of pure delight and happiness. You couldn’t help but beam in satisfaction at their enjoyment; you then reached into the basket and handed Remus a scone. “And yours, Mr. Lupin.”

He snickered at your professionalism. “Thank you,” he said, taking the scone and giving it a bite. “These are almost as sweet as you angel,” he complimented but not speaking again until he finished chewing.

“And how are you and our little bun doing today..” he asked, hand dropping to your belly to give it an affectionate rub.

You looked down at his hand as it moved at the center of your bump and smiled. “We’re good. Kept me company while I made these scones for you, won’t be long now before we have our baby out here in the real world watching me bake.”

“Hmm… no, not long at all” he hummed, leaning it to give you a chaste kiss.

A kiss while on the clock for work was something Remus Lupin had always deemed as inappropriate, but when you get him thinking about that baby of his on the way, you can bet his set of rules start to become fuzzy.

“Rem” you whispered coyly, eyes shifting towards the direction of the students.

Almost all of them were staring at the pair of you; some snickering but most just with pursed lips and attentive eyes.

Remus slowly took a step back from your immediate space. “That, students, is a kiss between man and wife” he smiled, with a little finger movement indicating they should turn to face the front. “Now let’s continue where we left off before Mrs. Lupin interrupted us” he instructed, with a wink back at you. That calm demeanor in which he handled situations had always been a weakness of yours.

You then watched as he walked back up to the front of the room and resumed his lesson. At a little table Remus kept at the back of the room for disruptive students, you set your basket down and took a seat. It wasn’t everyday you got to see your handsome man passionately teach his heart away, so you devotedly took in every second. Your baby was also happily taking it in too apparently, for it kicked at your belly every so often no doubt at the sound of Remus’s familiar, smooth voice.

Meanwhile, in his peripheral vision, Remus kept catching you with your hand at your bump, attentively listening to his lesson and in turn, couldn’t wait for class to be over so he could properly kiss you without the snicker and stares of his students. <3

[eggymf-archived]

the art of persuasion;

ft. ominis gaunt x f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: revenge, cheating, 6th year, slytherin!reader/mc, dark!reader/mc, cheater!sebastian, implied dark!ominis, subinis (for now), one-sided pining, slytherins being slytherins

warnings: nsfw, pwp?, smut, toxic behavior, manipulation, no romance, blowjob, cowgirl, p in v

summary: you discover your boyfriend's illicit little escapades in the restricted section with another girl. you plan to destroy them both using a certain potion, and a willing volunteer. amongst the array of selections at your disposal for your plan, you had your eyes on one specific person – his own best friend.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: romance is dead and horny is alive. there’s a part 2 for this – don’t ask why. *sweats* (for some reason that sounded like a damn poem i–)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3 

It has been more than a month since the truth behind your nagging doubts and restless nights finally revealed itself. Like any other woman with a keen intuition especially towards their grimy, unfaithful lovers, you were unfortunately right about your suspicions towards your boyfriend of almost a year, Sebastian Sallow.

To say that you did not have the slightest idea that he'd do such a thing was a complete lie — sure you weren't an academic wonder, but you certainly weren't that daft.

Alana Crowley — a fellow 6th year student from Slytherin. A friendly, seemingly unproblematic young lady at first, until she decided to latch her claws onto your boyfriend, that is. She had been awfully clingy around Sebastian for the past two months, and that foul git of a lover had no qualms with her blatant display of her not-so-subtle forms of affection. In fact, he seems to thrive in the attention, much to your dismay.

You've seen the looks he had given her. You've felt the all-familiar sparks between them during their seemingly harmless interactions and stares. As the woman whom he loved first, you were aware of Sebastian’s irresistible ways of communicating with his eyes: his longing stares, the way it twinkles when a mere glance was spared towards him, and how its warmth enraptured the entirety of your being the moment he gazes upon you with raw adoration. 

He was doing the same tactics he had used in capturing your poor little naïve heart during one summer getaway after your 5th year. He might as well just slap you on the face for using the same tricks on another woman — it all hurts the same either way. But the fact that he had been doing all these scandals right under your nose however? Absolutely unforgivable.

What you hadn't expected was how you ended up finding out: witnessing him doing the deed with his little side piece in the Restricted Section. It was the day when the both of you had planned a study session together for your NEWTS with Ominis Gaunt, his best friend. Sebastian was uncharacteristically late, thus you and Ominis went looking for him, and unfortunately ended up stumbling upon the scene.

“Wait! Hngh–! What will you do if your girlfriend finds out— haaaah! A-about this?”

“She won't. She doesn’t even suspect a thing. Everything’s under control, lo— oh fuck!”

Those were the exact words both you and Ominis had heard as they engaged in their explicitly raunchy little act while you pathetically watched behind the bookshelves. Betrayal was a brutal weight, and it had clasped itself around your ankle within that moment, submerging you within the icy depths of bitter realization. 

You thought he’d be faithful to you like he had promised. Hell, the both of you went through that absolute shitstorm during your 5th year together. Surely that accounts for at least some form of loyalty and honesty about each other's feelings and intentions, right? But alas, he had broken that simple unspoken rule, and your trust towards him was no more.

While you were right to trust him with your secret regarding your unusual magical prowess, you've made a fatal mistake of entrusting your heart to his bloodied hands. Yet despite the gravity of the situation, no tears, hysterics, or even any form of hints were shown of how utterly devastated you truly were.

There was no way in hell that you, (Y/F/N), the famed wielder of ancient magic, would crumble over a mere cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his own filthy little flobberworm in his pants.

Perhaps Sebastian didn’t know you that well after all, because if he did, he wouldn't have dared to incur your anger the second time around. It was fair to say that you’d let him have a taste of his own ignorance and foolishness, and you weren't afraid of forgoing the brakes and letting your unbridled rage hit him like a Graphorn on a wild rampage.

Thus, here you were, currently standing in front of the potions station within the Room of Requirement. You’ve been keeping a watchful eye over the bubbling concoction that you had been secretly brewing for nearly a month.

Three measures of boomslang skin… One measure of bicorn horn… High temperature for twenty seconds… 

Upon stirring the thick, mud-like mixture, you quickly set your stirring utensil aside, letting the potion brew within the cauldron. There were two remaining pieces left in completing the little set-up that you've constructed out of your own pettiness, which consisted of this particular potion and a willing volunteer. 

For the most part, the former was complete. But the latter? That was an entirely different problem on its own, but you had your ways.

An echoing creak resounded throughout the magical space as the doors of the Room of Requirement swung open, revealing your fellow 6th year Slytherin friend with slicked back blonde hair, holding up his wand which was blinking red at the tip. The opal-eyed male sauntered towards you carefully, avoiding any possible objects he might collide against.

“Glad you made it, Ominis,” you welcomed. You gently grabbed his arm as you guided him towards the nearby chaise lounge. He sat comfortably at the rather cushy seat, a smile present on his face.

“I came here as soon as I got your owl, and I apologize for the delay too. Sebastian's been quite slippery as of late,” he sighed. You plopped down beside the male while a floating tea set poured you both a cup of tea, to which Ominis accepted with utmost gratitude.

“Not surprised,” you nonchalantly drawled as you savored your Earl Grey tea. “He doesn't loiter around his usual spots as of late. I wonder why.”

The pure nonchalance of your sarcasm caused a chuckle to arise from him before partaking in his own beverage. Your eyes trained towards his unseeing ones that seemed to have this knowing glimmer. With the countless vexations that both you and Sebastian had brought upon him during your 5th year, it was now Ominis' second nature to detect your devious little plans from a mile away, ready to reel you in whenever you got too far.

Which brings you to the oh-so-burning question that was living rent-free within your mind: why is he, out of all people, helping you?

Setting his teacup aside to the nearby side table, he reached for the inner pocket of his coat, grabbing a vial containing several strands of dark brown hair. 

“Managed to nick it off him this morning before he woke up. Thankfully he slept like a log,” he hummed. You grinned at him, levitating the vial to the nearby cabinet beside the potions station. Ominis leaned back against the backrest of the lounge with his legs in a figure four lock.

“Also, I believe we have pressing matters to discuss, (Y/N)?” his posh-toned query cuts through the momentary silence. “Surely you didn't invite me all the way to the Room of Requirement just to deliver several strands of hair.”

“Perceptive as always,” you smiled mirthlessly, eyes and tone getting slightly darker as your teacup floated off to the nearby table. “You’re right. We need to talk.”

“...Go on.”

“I’ll be frank with you. I’m not quite sure as to why you’d even agree to this little request of mine in the first place,” you admitted. “So kindly enlighten me, Ominis. You're far from the type who would engage in petty little acts of vengeance. Why exactly are you helping me?”

Ominis bit his lip, silently cursing within his head as he racked through his mind for a valid excuse. While he couldn't blame you for your cautiousness given that Sebastian himself was his closest friend, this was a topic that he had desperately avoided out of fear of rejection and for the sake of preserving his friendship with his oldest friend. That’s right — he was in love with you, and has always been eversince you’ve deemed yourself worthy of his trust.  

You’ve always had him wrapped around your pretty little finger even before he became aware of the butterflies. He loved you enough to forgo his own wants and needs of having you; to keep you close yet far enough so that he'd never be able to claim you for himself out of the bare minimum respect towards you and his best friend. He settled for your presence, pining hopelessly for the real thing, and he wasn't about to let his demons run rampant and ruin everything no matter how strong his urges were.

Or so he thought.

“A mere extension of my own good will towards a dear friend. Nothing more,” he answered stiffly with a trace of longingness evident within his misty orbs. This minute detail, however, doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp, calculating eyes. 

“Whether Sebastian's my best friend or not, infidelity is deplorable. Whatever acts of vengeance you have in mind is both warranted and well-deserved,” he added firmly.

You hummed in response, seemingly satisfied yet not entirely convinced with the purity of his intentions. Your eyes gazed upon him coyly, your lips curling upwards.

“Perhaps. But that's not your only reason now, is it?”

Ominis froze as you chuckled knowingly, an underlying dark tone present within your seemingly innocent display of amusement. His exhalation was slow, feeling your presence come nearer towards him. Much to his surprise, you pushed his leg that rested atop the other, lodging your knees in between his lower limbs. Dainty hands rested themselves gingerly upon his shoulders, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

“Surely you have your own motives, Ominis. You know what I’m brewing, yet here you are, giving into my little whims…” you trailed off with a hint of smugness in your whisper. His heart hammered at the featherlight touch that trailed itself along his prominent jaw.

“Now, let me word my question differently this time. What exactly do you hope to get from all of this?”

The sudden calloused allure of your tone caused the blonde-haired lad's breath to hitch. He gulped, breathing slowly and deeply to calm the raging tempo within his chest. His lips remained pursed — this was obviously not a good time for a romantic confession, and silence was the best option if he wished to keep his pesky little feelings under wraps. 

The madness within him was less noble with its intentions, however. It was a perfect opportunity to whisk you away at your most vulnerable emotional state — to steal you from Sebastian after that unsavory stunt that he had pulled. He’d do anything to have you. Anything. But alas, the demon itself was constrained by the chains of his strong morals, never to see the light of day.

Unfortunately, you were a lot more quick-witted than he thought, capable of putting two and two together: the way he’d comply to all your requests, how he instantly comes to your rescue, his willingness to put up with this ridiculous plan, the rosy hue that was slowly creeping up his pale complexion — all of it finally made sense.

“You like me, don't you?” 

His silence was more than enough, and the frown that was once on your pretty face morphed into a satisfied smirk. You leaned back, letting your eyes feast on his flustered state. A devious improvised plan formulated itself within your head and a sultry giggle escaped your lips. 

His thin lips were soon parted by your thumb. The said digit invaded his cavern, to which he welcomed by lightly grazing his tongue against your skin. He yelped as you gripped his chin harshly with your thumb hooked within his mouth, forcing him to look up while you gazed down upon his face with cold (E/C) eyes.

“Well?” you teasingly whispered, the pad of your thumb smearing his own saliva onto his lips as you await his answer. “Do you?”

“... Yes… Yes, I do,” he rasps, his morals finally consumed by the wildfire of his own desires.

“Good.”

And just like that, he fell right into your trap.

You gently lowered yourself onto Ominis’ lap, straddling him while your lips claimed his into a searing kiss. The opal-eyed man softly whined, dragging his palms along your thinly-clothed thighs before resting his hands on your derriere. A delightful purr erupted from your throat before biting on his lip as he snuck his fingertips under the thin layer of your knickers, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze.

Feeling your lungs burn for air, the both of you parted, gasping and heaving. Your (E/C) orbs were hazy, clouded with both carnal desire and smugness. The way your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's best friend looked so helplessly eager to give his entirety to you gave you a dizzying rush of prideful feminine arrogance.  

You sat upright while his hands drifted to your waist with evident impatience. Your clothed slit was now aligned right onto the stiff tent on his trousers. A breathy, euphoric moan escaped his lips, throwing back his head slightly as he was reduced into a shuddering mess. God, you were so warm — to think that he was feeling it through layers of clothing was downright maddening. The throbbing ache within his trousers was growing unbearable, and he wanted nothing but to relieve himself from this sinful agony. 

He has waited for so long. He has fantasized about you during his lonely nights, spread out and his for the taking — without Sebastian in the equation. He'd love nothing more than for you to strip him bare and do as you please with his body. The mere notion was enough for his stiff erection to twitch within its confines, leaking droplets of liquid desire.

Your lips curled into a gleefully sinister smirk. It was akin to witnessing a valuable gift unwrap itself; a revelation of how atrociously needy Ominis Gaunt gets once the correct buttons were pushed. 

“I think it's only fair if I give you a little taste of what you want, no?” you chuckled. A quiver raked through his lithe frame upon feeling the thin skin of your lips tracing itself along his prominent jawline. 

“Ah…!” he gasps with unbridled delight at the delicious suction against the delicate skin of his neck. Merlin, he never expected you to be this bold. A giggle erupted from your cherry red lips, drinking in the scrumptious sight of his flustered state. 

Oh, you were going to have fun with him for sure. 

He felt his legs part as you slid in between them, metal faintly clinking as deft fingers began to unbuckle his belt. His heart pounded against his chest, taking a gulp to soothe his now parched throat. His shaky fingers wandered to his vest, unbuttoning the garment while you palmed his stiff appendage through his underwear, kissing the weeping tip through the cotton thin fabric. 

His pleasure-induced whimpers successfully stroked your ego, and you allowed yourself to indulge deeper within this abysmal erotomania. Your hands creeped up along your own legs as you stood up, brunching your skirt all the way up until you reached your own lacy undergarments. 

While stripping the flimsy article off your being, you relished in the sight of the opal-eyed male loosening his own necktie and shortly unbuttoning his white shirt. You bit your lip upon witnessing his bareness: his soft, alabaster skin teasingly peeking through the undone clothing. 

God, he's beautiful.

"Hmm. Keep those on," you sighed breathily before he could take the articles of clothing off his frame. Ominis smirked lightly at this, putting his hands up as he laid back on the backrest of the chaise lounge. You knelt before him once more, slipping both his trousers and undergarments off him at the same time. He hissed at the sudden cold air nipping against his heated skin while you purred in delight, nuzzling your face filthily against the thick, leaky appendage.

"Please, (Y/N)..." he whimpered as you traced the tip of your tongue lightly against a thick vein at the underside of his shaft, clear globs of precum leaking from the tip at your teasing ministrations. The slick muscle eventually wandered towards his blunt tip, and a hiss of unadulterated pleasure escaped his bitten red lips as his fingers ran through your (H/C) locks; all in hopes of grounding himself from this euphoric high.

"Yes... That's it...! Darling— Oh, fuck...!" he groaned through gritted teeth as his fleshy head was enveloped within the warmth of your mouth. The pleasant vibrations from your moan further stimulates his already sensitive, twitchy organ. The flat of your tongue moved at every suction, resulting in every possible form of salacious sound being torn from his mouth with little to no mercy. 

He writhed at all the sensations that engulfed his senses; his pale, veiny fingers intertwined with strands of your (H/C) hair while his other hand gripped the armrest of his seat. Fire scorched him from within his loins while his toes curled, his brain in a state of mush and primal frenzy.  

Your own slender fingers wandered towards your own weeping hole, running the pads of your fingertips along your own heated flesh. Your mind was beginning to blank out as you began to take in his increasingly heady scent, audibly gurgling as he pushed your head deeper to accommodate his entire length.

He gasped, heaving a lungful of air as the blunt tip mercilessly hit the back of your throat. All you could do was to acquiesce to his desires as he brutally bobbed your head up and down his stiff erection. Your scalped burned delightfully at his iron grip on your hair, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

“I’m close… So fucking close…!” he groaned. His pace quickened, bucking his hips up this time, your throat instinctively tightening up at the repetitive intrusion. The sound of gurgles and squelches turned increasingly audible as he bucked his hips up wildly with his mouth hung slightly ajar.

A salty taste soon engulfed your senses, spurts of his hot seed flooding your abused mouth. He let out a shuddering groan at the suction as he was milked dry by your mouth. You pulled your head away with a pop before swallowing his essence, licking the sides of your lips to clean up any remaining traces.

Before he could even come to his senses, he felt your lips on his once more, instantly snaking your tongue into his hot cavern. He whines, tasting himself whilst running his slick appendage against yours. His head was still spinning from his release, his sightless eyes in a daze as he inhaled through his nose, taking in your addictive scent as much as he could. As soon as your lips unlatched itself from his, he let out a soft, needy whine, to which you responded with a giggle.

“Lay down,” you instructed softly, and he complied, letting you hover over his willing body. 

Tracing your fingertips along the center of his frame, you pushed the layers of clothing aside, revealing the expanse of his smooth pale skin — he was truly a work of art, rivaling that of marble statues. He hissed as your leaking hole descended dangerously close to his shaft, which was pulsating with anticipation as it felt the warm droplets of your essence drip upon it. 

Without a warning, you pressed your soaked core directly against his member. As soon as you began rocking your hips, Ominis absolutely lost the remaining traces of his sanity, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped before gasping for air. Your warm slick coated his now throbbing member, and the intimately lewd sensation effectively fried the remainder of his rationality. A loud groan rumbled from his chest upon placing your hole against the tip, moving your hips in a circular motion. 

Fuck, he was so close to entering you.

He wants to be inside you. No, he needs to be inside you right now.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you teased disapprovingly as Ominis tried to slide his member within your aching core. You pressed down harder against his twitching shaft, earning a pleasured whimper from him in response. 

“I didn't say we could go all the way, love,” you grinned, a hint of malicious amusement present within your eyes. “But with how desperately needy you are right now, perhaps you should… Convince me.”

He groaned impatiently, the pads of his fingertips sinking onto your fleshy thighs. He shifted under your weight pathetically, his nether regions craving for the deliciously warm friction against your slicked lower lips — the addictive sensation that you had cruelly deprived him from all of a sudden. You remained still, letting out a mirthless chuckle.

Dainty fingers wrapped around his neck, followed by a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the side of his lips. Shifting yourself slightly, you reached for his stiff erection, guiding the tip to your drenched hole. The fleshy tip merely prodded your entrance, never going past the head, much to Ominis' sheer agony. 

“F-fuck… (Y/N), please!”

Oh, you loved the sound of that: the way he begs and grovels like an animal in heat just to engulf himself within your warmth — truly a boost to your already inflated ego.

“Please, what?” 

“Please let me have you… Fuck, I need you so badly right now...”

His eyes widened at the painfully slow, inching intrusion; his eyes glassy with wanton tears. There was a raging urge within him to just snap his hips up, but he dared not to cross you — he was taking no risk in ruining everything, not when he's so close to obtaining his filthiest desire of finally becoming one with you. With one hand, you removed your necktie, your eyes never leaving his vulnerable, quivering form.

“How badly do you need it, love?” you asked mockingly while he let out a shuddering gasp; your warm juices slowly trickled down his shaft, pooling at its base.

“So fucking bad… I'll do anything. Please…” he whimpered.

A smug, menacing grin broke out of your lips.

“... Anything?” you repeated.

“Anything. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Good boy.”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs the moment you descended on him, your walls fluttering around his thick, twitchy appendage. You bit your lip as you began unbuttoning your shirt while gyrating your hips, much to his sinful delight. Blood was rushing to your head, trapping you within a dizzying frenzy of lust and desire, only to be fueled further when his hands gripped your bare waist, guiding you along his shaft.

You felt so full, and he was prodding and brushing at all the right places, making your eyes roll back at every slam of your hips upon his. Your juices were dripping everywhere, and the sounds of filthy squelches and wet slaps of skin filled the room along with the shaky, breathless little moans that escaped your sweet lips. Ominis panted, snapping his hips up occasionally in hopes of drawing out a more feral response from you, to which he was successful. 

You were a wreck — disheveled, legs quivering, covered in a sheen of sweat, inner thighs drenched solely with your own juices, and a drunken grin on your face while you rubbed your sensitive little pearl.

“Fuck— R-right there!” you cried out as he brushed against a spongy spot that made your thighs shake, your domineering façade slowly disintegrating. Every thrust from him had you choking on air with how rough he slams his hips, reducing you into nothing but a moaning mess.

This was genuinely one of the few instances where Ominis is upset about his lack of sight. All he ever wanted was to see you unravel before him — to look into his eyes pleadingly, writhe in pleasure as he brought waves upon waves of pleasure on your submissively sensitive body, and to present yourself to him in every debauched position possible before he fucks you into oblivion. 

Oh, the extent he would go to just to even catch a glimpse of you, especially when you're bare — he'd worship the ground you walked on, and treat you like you were the most prized person within the entire world with no questions asked.

He'd do anything for you. Anything.

“Fuck, I'm close…!” you mewled, feeling your walls slightly spasming around his cock, causing the male to hiss at the velvety grip of your core. Your thighs began to tremble, and you heaved as you began to move faster, chasing your high. 

“Cum for me, darling. Oh fuck, you're amazing,” he pants, his mind in a drunken haze.

He pulled you into his arms, thrusting his hips wildly while breathing in your heady scent as if it's the last time he'll ever inhale a lungful of air. An airy, shuddering moan tickled his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Your walls had finally convulsed around him, and you felt spurts of his warm cum flood your long awaiting pussy. 

A sharp exhale escaped his dried mouth as you shakily let your worn-out body lay on top of him. He was still inside you, but the growing soreness in your thighs was preventing you from moving. Your heart was still hammering in your chest while your limbs felt like jelly, the exhaustion evident within your body. Ominis hadn't moved a single muscle either, his mind wandering into places, deep in thought. 

As soon as you attempted to get off him, however, his arm snaked around your waist, holding you in place. You glanced at him with tired, confused eyes.

“...Stay,” he whispers, his embrace tightening around you as if you'll disappear from his grasp anytime. The underlying neediness within his tone caused you to give into his harmless request, sinking back into the warmth of his embrace.

“...Okay.”

You nuzzled in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat with a sigh of comfort. A serene smile was present on your face as you relaxed, slowly getting lulled into a well-deserved nap in the comfort of his arms.

Willing volunteer? Check.

part 2: all’s fair in love and war >

[ornii]

I got a Wednesday ask for you, for Valentines Day.

May I ask for Enid and Wednesday both having a crush on their friend who's oblivious as all hell to any romantic intentions anyone may have. A girl could say "You're cute in that shirt. I bet you'd look better out of it." and he'd beam a smile and say "Thanks! My mom picked it out for me!"

Well, Wednesday and Enid are rivals who are competing against each other. Their competition is so fierce that they often refuse to be near each other.

Unfortunately, they neglect their friend, who thinks he's done something wrong to push both of them away from him, so he's sulking. Less positive, less sunshine, no smiles.

How do these to reconcile and come together to make an agreement to share him? That, dear author, I leave to you.

That’s actually a great Idea since I already had a Valentines Story Here

Anyway that is a great idea.

May The Best Woman, Win.

Wenclair X Male Reader, Nothing Like a Little, friendly competition, right?

Valentines Day, the day of love and adoration for your significant other. Being a “Magician”, Mage would be the more appropriate term but the school doesn’t allow you to cast dangerous spells or incantations that could melt someone’s face off so you’re stuck with party tricks. Every day you were practicing a new form of levitation, invisibility, and summoning of spectral beings. And the week before valentines you put on a show for Nevermore and it has a fantastic end.

Standing before everyone, you had your magicians top had ready. As you Show It’s emptiness, you placed it upon the table.

“Now, you all should be prepared, this could be a. Fire hazard.” You say, your eyes quickly look to the further core of the crowd, seeing Enid so giddy for your performance as usual, but Wednesday was there, she despises child games but, she also supported your love for the magical arts. A ferocious smile was upon your face and you put everything into this one. Tapping on your had you slowly reached inside to pull out a butterfly. There were a few oos, but we’re not Ready for what came next, you placed it back inside and grabbed a lighter. Igniting the inside of your hat, you reached into with both hands and quickly pulled something out. It was a Mystery, until you opened your hands and hundreds of red, flaming butterflies flew out so calmly, they weren’t on fire, they were made of it. It dances along the night sky to the absolute beauty of the crowd.

The applause felt like a roaring wave to (Y/n), who watched as students cheer him on, and they only thing he could do was bow his head and thank everyone for their love and adoration. Unfortunately the teachers had to cut it short and make sure everyone got to their dorms safely. Thornhill obviously took hers back to their dorms, Enid was lying on her bed, absolutely giddy and chattering about it all, Wednesdays was typing upon her typewriter, trying to ignore it.

“And then the butterflies came out and it was just so, beautiful!” Enid squeals, Wednesday halts her typing for a moment.

“I know Enid, I was literally right next to you, an interesting parlor trick.” Wednesday goes back to it and Enid sits up and pouts.

“You really can’t just admit it was super cool? And it doesn’t help (Y/n)‘s the sweetest guy like ever.” Enid hugs one of her plushies.

“I suppose his overwhelming kindness is something to leave a woman.. wanting.” Wednesday says, “Which is why I suppose I’ll ask—“

“So that’s why I’m asking—“

“For him to be my valentine.” They say in Unison and both look at each other. The two stand up and sort of stand there awkwardly.

“So… you want him to be your valentine too.” Enid said, pouting a bit.

“Yes, i thought that was clear. While I despise the day of love, I can respect that he’s weaseled his way into my mind.” Wednesday admits.

“Well he’s been a cute ball of sunshine since I first met him, so…” Enid begins and offers a handshake.

“May the best woman win.” She says with a Cherry sweet smile. Wednesday takes it, coldly.

“I will win.” She responds, Enid frowns a bit. “I guess there’s nothing like a little friendly competition.

“I don’t do friendly.”

And The Rivalry began, while (Y/n) was a fantastic magician, he was a bit of a dunce when it came to hints of one’s romantic intentions. The first few hints were thrown at (Y/n), without much hinting. (Y/n) sat at the quad the next morning. He was quickly interrupted by Enid sitting next to him, immediately getting a bit close. He didn’t really see much wrong and just talked, he noticed Enid was staring really hard at him.

“And then I tells him I… Enid, are you okay? You haven’t blinked for like, two minutes.” He said, and she attempts to act oblivious.

“Oh Im staring too hard? Sorry, I was just so lost in your eyes~” She says, and (Y/n) nods.

“Ooooh. Well I have a spell to fix that, you’d be surprised how common eye injuries are in the magic business, did you know they based Dr Strange off of a famous magician? It’s—“

Enid can only sheepishly nod at his cute idiotic ramblings, as much as she wanted to interrupt him. He seemed so genuinely happy to talk about it with her. So instead she just listened to his ramblings on, just nodding away. Little did Enid know Wednesday was watching a ways away, staring a hole into her annoying dumb blonde blockhead. All she has to do was wait for her opportunity, which came knocking as (Y/n) was leaving his class. Walking down the hall he quickly stopped to not crash into Wednesday.

“(Y/n).” She says, he halts and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“Hey Wednesday, what’s up?” He asks.

“There is Something i must ask you, will you—“

“Wait.” He says. “there’s something I have to say first.” (Y/n) said, and Wednesday slowly began to scowl a bit. He takes a deep breath.

“I want to thank you for coming to the show, I know you hate childish things and I know you probably had literally a hundred Better things to do but.. you came and I cannot thank you enough so.. so..” (Y/n) awkwardly reaches out and hugs her tightly for a few seconds and Wednesday was stunned by the platonic assault, the scent of his cologne. The warmth of his body, the alluring strength in his arms. All of it left her literally speechless. He lets go quickly, as if he’s ready for her to stab him, but she just stares at him.

“W-Wednesday?” He asks, “Are you okay?” He said, she simply turned around and walked away, literally too embarrassed to speak. (Y/n) shrugs and heads back to his dorm. Down the hall, Enids eyes focused on the scene as she saw Wednesday leave, staring At her antisocial, emo smarty pants dumb face. The friendly competition wasn’t so friendly anymore; even the tension in the dorm room was, suffocating.

The next few days, (Y/n) attempts to hang out with both of them, but you could feel that. Something was wrong. They absolutely refused to do so, even to go so far as to not even be in each others presence. While you were off shopping with Enid, Wednesday was inside her dorm as far from Enid as possible to avoid shaving the dog bald, and when you were With Wednesday in the dorm talking, Enid was with Yoko trying not to picture clawing Wednesdays eyes out. As all the negativity they had slowly began to spree into vitriol it, took a toll on you as well. You five star smile slowly faded and the beautiful light in your eyes was dull and unrealistic. It was getting to you, the jealously, anger, for what? Why we’re they at each others necks, everything was fine a week ago, the only thing that changed was the show, the magic, it was.. you.

It was a rainy night in Nevermore and, you’ve had enough, sneaking out of your dorm and crawling the gothic architecture, you eventually and soaked in rain, got to the multi colored window, and softly knocked on it. Wednesday was inside as she turns her head to see you standing there, she opened the window and let you inside. It was an awkward silence before you just blurted it out.

“I’m sorry, okay?” You say, and Wednesday squints a bit.

“Sorry about what?”

“Everything! I don’t Know, whatever I did to make you and Enid hate each other.” You admit, Wednesdays jaw tightens and she couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore.

“You two used to be friends, you could coexist and now I can’t see one without the other and I hate it, whatever i did I am sorry, please. Can we go back to how things were?” You say, trying to hold back tears as you sit on her bed, sniffling. Wednesday detested human interaction and somewhat revels in the sadness and fear some had, but yours was different. It made her sick to her stomach to see you in such turmoil, for something you didn’t even do, your only crime.. was being a friend. Your hands shook, you tried to hold it together and your sorrow was interrupted by Wednesday approaching and hugging your head, letting your face rest against her chest as she gently caressed your hair, this is the first time Wednesday has ever initiated any contact.

“It was not your fault, it was ours, Enid and I wanted to be your valentines and, we allowed it to shove us apart. We put our selfish wants and needs above what mattered.. I apologize for my part in that.” Wednesday admits, your hands gently wrapped around her waist, you looked at her.

“You, guys were seriously fighting over me?” You say, “fighting over a guy seems above you.” You say and Wednesday sighs.

“I suppose it is…” she admits, she lets go and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll apologize to Enid as well.” She admits, and you wipe your tears.

“..I’d like that.” You say, and as if on queue, the door opens to Enid who steps in to probably pick up her nail polish, she sees Wednesday and (Y/n), which makes her freeze a bit, and the jealousy begins to come to a boil.

“Enid, are you really fighting over me?” You ask her, and her rage quickly disperses to embarrassment.

“I-I mean.. well..”

“Seriously?” You say, “I was so worried that I pushed you two away from each other, than I made you so full of hate and anger.” You admit and Enids embarrassed went to sadness. She approaches sheepishly.

“We… Yeah You’re Right, we did do that and.. it wasn’t fair to you.” Enid says, seeing the wet, sad man sitting on the bed, so full of despair. It made her want to cry too but, her tears were worthless.

“Wednesday, Enid, can you two please just go back to being friends?” You ask, the two look at each other.

“Enid, I apologize for my actions, as (Y/n) said we shouldn’t let a man get inbetween our friendship.” She admits.

“Yeah, im sorry too… that was super uncool of me, and I shouldn’t hate you for wanting to be his valentine.” Enid admits, and you sigh with relief.

“You know, you both could have just asked together.” You say, they slowly turn to him.

“If it made you both happy I would have done it, you two mean the most to me, the least I could do was be your valentines.” You say and the two quickly take up his offer.

“Will you be our valentine?” They again in Unison, you were actually a bit taken aback by their quickness, you stand up and laugh a bit. “No shame Huh? I’d love to.” You say and hug them both, Enid quickly reciprocates the hug, and Wednesday slowly does as well, both girls content with the outcome, I suppose in this competition, everyone is a winner.

[elizaleclerc]

HI MY LOVEEEE

first off all I'd like to say i love your work so much, can you do a max x reader where she's griend with carlos gf alex, max's just like freshly broke up and reader has like the biggest fattest crush on him and i trust you to end this fic in anyway you'd like

hello gorgeous (i see ur typo dw love), i'm combining this request with another one i got (the lovely anon that sent one about watching reader perform at a recital). tweaking these ideas a little and instead of it being reader im making it a fem oc AND turning it into a series!! absolutely stoked ab this idea and hope you both love it <3

the dying swan 🩰

(part one)

max verstappen x female original character

summary: as ballerina madeline moreau prepares her final dance as a bachelor's student, her good friend charles invites her to her first grand prix in monaco, where she sparks up a relationship with her crush max.

song: le cygne by saint-saëns

author's note: haven’t written a fic with a fem oc on here so im a little nervy. i adore this concept so i hope u like it too :,) this will have multiple parts (not sure how many yet), so stay tuned! xoxo 

word count: 2.3k

As Madeline Moreau prepared for her final performance towards earning her Bachelor's in performing arts, she carefully laced the ribbons of her ballet shoes around her ankles. The soft pink fabric contrasted against her pale skin, adding to the ethereal quality of the dance she was about to perform. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the studio and began the grueling practice session for "The Dying Swan". This solo dance was known to be one of the most challenging variations, but Madeline had purposefully chosen it as her final piece. Ballet had been her life since she was a young child, and completing a Bachelor's degree in this intense passion meant everything to her. As she gracefully moved across the studio floor, every stretch and turn was executed with precision and emotion, conveying the story of a swan's final moments beautifully through movement and music.

Her heart's deepest desires yearned for her to dance under the sparkling lights of the Paris Opera Ballet. Growing up in the enchanting country of France, she would often sit in front of her television, mesmerized by the grace and agility of the ballerinas on stage. She imagined herself twirling and leaping alongside them, a part of the grandeur and beauty that captivated her every time.

Already she had scouts eyeing her for various ballet companies through France, companies that would bring her massive attention and fame in the dancing world. She could already imagine the opportunities waiting for her in her home country, the chance to dance on grand stages and gain worldwide recognition. As she began her first practice that morning, thoughts of fame and success swirled through her mind like ribbons caught in a gentle breeze. Each stretch and exercise was calculated, each muscle carefully worked as she prepared for the challenging routine ahead. Her ankles, strong and supple, were crucial to executing the entire dance en pointe, with grace and precision that would captivate audiences. This was her passion, her art, and she was determined to master every aspect of it.

Madeline's body moved gracefully to the familiar notes of her favorite dance theme. As she moved across the studio floor, she couldn't help but feel a bittersweet ache in her heart. This was her final performance as a student ballerina, and just as the swan dies in the dance, she too would soon be bidding farewell to her youth as a performer. But with each precise movement of her arms and each delicate arch of her feet, she knew that something new and beautiful would be born from this ending - a career as a professional dancer. And as she gracefully folded her arms into her torso, it felt as though she was shedding an old skin and emerging anew, like a majestic swan taking flight once again.

With each graceful, extended step, Madeline could feel her ankles straining and trembling beneath her. The pain was excruciating, but she refused to let it show as she balanced delicately on her toes, emulating the movements of a dying swan. Her muscles burned with exhaustion, but she pushed through, determined to make every motion appear effortless and fluid.

Despite the countless blisters that formed on her feet, Madeline never uttered a complaint. She understood that to achieve true beauty and grace in her performance, she had to push her body to its physical limits. It was a constant battle between mind and body, but for Madeline, the end result was always worth the pain.

She glided through the four-minute variation with determination, her movements precise and fluid. Her instructor stood in the corner, arms crossed and a stern expression on their face. With each mistake, they scolded Madeline, pointing out every tiny detail that was not up to par. And with each correction, Madeline cursed herself for not being perfect.

As a ballerina, she had learned to be a perfectionist under the constant pressure of her instructors. But unlike others, Madeline placed all the weight of expectation on her own shoulders. She believed that this self-imposed scrutiny and criticism would propel her straight to the Paris Opera Ballet company. As she finished her routine, sweat glistening on her brow, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be good enough for her own standards.

After what felt like an eternity, she hung her head in defeat as the day came to a close. Learning the variation had not been the biggest challenge - it had come naturally to her - but the hours of repetition and inevitable mistakes had left her confidence bruised and battered. As she wearily made her way out of the studio and back to her small apartment, she couldn't help but wince at the painful blisters forming on her toes, a tell-tale sign of her dedication and determination to perfecting her craft.

She took her hair down out of her bun and drew herself a warm bath to ease the aching of her muscles. Just as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes in relaxation, she felt the vibration of her phone on the side of the tub.

She dried off her hands and answered the phone call, “Salut, Charles.” Her good friend Charles Leclerc spoke on the other side of the phone, asking her how she’s been and what progress she’d made on her dance. She updated him on her failures of the day, and as he had plenty of times before, he told her she was being entirely too hard on herself.

“I wanted to extend an invite to you.” His voice echoed through the phone’s speaker.

“Yes?” She urged him on.

“How would you feel about finally coming to see us race in Monaco?” He was met with silence.

“I dunno Char,” Madeline sighed, considering the opportunity. The Monaco Grand Prix was a few weeks away, and she knew how busy she would be working on her variation, and how much more progress she had to make in perfecting it.

“Cmon, it would be loads of fun.” He persisted, but yet she hesitated still. The Formula One crowd was widly different than the dance crowd she was used to. Her and Charles crossed paths several times through their youth, over time becoming closer and closer. Charles knew that Madeline was a fairly timid girl, and therefore might feel uncomfortable around the loud cars and adrenaline filled atmosphere. Madeline’s spirit was much more peaceful and slow, her entire aura radiating the serenity and calmness of ballet.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally answered, but that didn’t satisfy him.

“Every time you say that you always end up saying no.” He argued, further putting Madeline in a difficult position. “You know Max will be there.” He joked, which made her roll her eyes over the phone.

“Very funny.” Her sarcastic remark caused Charles to chuckle. He always liked to say that Madeline had a major crush on Max, but she had never even met him. Her own nerves prohibited her from reaching out. The fact that Max would be racing in Monaco and Madeline could potentially meet him almost made her more resistant to go. “Who would I be staying with?”

“During the race you could stay up in the balcony with my family and friends. Alex will be there as well. You’d be in good company, Madeline.” Charles was making a good argument. Madeline adored Charles’s girlfriend, Alexandra, as she was a lover of the arts and always made sure to adorn Madeline in compliments over her dancing skills.

“Fine, I’ll be there.” Madeline gave in, finally feeling excited with the possibility of it all. She could hear Charles’s cheers in the background.

As they ended the phone call, she took a deep breath. Charles' words lingered in her mind, causing her to question her actions. He was right, of course, to tease her about seeing Max. After all, he had been her long-time crush since his impressive debut on the Formula One track. Despite the passing years and numerous offers from Charles to introduce them, Madeline had always managed to avoid meeting Max. But as her fame as a ballerina grew in France, fans began to speculate about her connection with the much more renowned Charles Leclerc.

The media had never bothered to inquire about her, yet Madeline's rise in popularity could be attributed to the relentless efforts of Charles and Alex, who took every opportunity to mention her name. As she walked through public spaces, Madeline's cheeks would flush with a mixture of shyness and discomfort, still unaccustomed to the attention that came with being associated with a famous Formula One driver. But deep down she knew that fame and recognition within the ballet world were her ultimate goals. She yearned to see her name among the ranks of the greats, and she understood that this would require adjusting to constant public scrutiny and attention.

The water in Madeline's bath slowly grew colder, but she hardly noticed as she scrolled through Instagram. With steady hands, she searched for Max's name in her following list. His profile appeared on her screen, his handsome face and perfectly curated photos drawing her in. She spent time studying each picture, taking in the details of his life that she had been missing out on. Where there used to be images of him and his girlfriend, now there were only solo shots of him posing with trophies and accolades, a clear indication to his millions of followers that they had split up. A small smile tugged at Madeline's lips, the realization that he was single igniting a spark of hope within her. But deep down, she knew that even with this new opportunity, she may not have the courage to approach him. The thought left her feeling both exhilarated and defeated all at once.

~

A dull, persistent ache nagged at Madeline's muscles as she trudged into the dance studio the next day. But her mind was not occupied with thoughts of rest or recovery; instead, it was consumed by thoughts of Max. She hated herself for feeling this way. For so long, her focus had been solely on dance, unable to entertain any distractions or desires for a romantic relationship.

But now, as she danced to prophetic love ballads and hopeless romantic variations, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to experience the type of love she often portrayed in her performances. With every step and turn, she poured all her energy into keeping her mind focused on the theme of her current variation: the dying swan. Her arms moved gracefully, mimicking the delicate movements of the bird's wings, while her fingers flicked with precision and emotion. As much as she tried to push him out of her mind, Max's image lingered in the corners of her thoughts, tainting even her most effortless movements with a bittersweet longing.

Under the watchful eye of her instructor, Madeline pushed herself to her limits, determined to improve. She gritted her teeth and forced herself through each step of the variation, her feet aching and screaming in protest. But she refused to give up or show any sign of weakness. After completing another round, she could see the concern in her instructor's eyes. "Madeline, take a moment to catch your breath. You're only on your second day, I don't want you to overdo it and injure yourself." Madeline tried to regulate her breathing and calm her racing heart. Sweat dripped down her face, mingling with the tears of pain and determination. But she knew that she had to keep going, pushing herself harder than ever before in pursuit of perfection.

She huffed and finally sat down on the chilled floor. “I don’t care, I need to be perfect or nothing.”

“That attitude will not make you ‘perfect’, you fool,” the instructor scolded, “there is no such thing as perfect. Your body needs rest. An audience can see clear as day the difference between a healthy and strong dancer and one that is barely hanging on to each movement.”

Madeline's body trembled with exhaustion as she hung her head low, trying to hide her overwhelming disappointment. The instructor's angry voice still echoed in the room, adding to the throb of pain in her feet and the twitches in her muscles. She tried to soak in their words, but her mind was foggy from the grueling practices she endured every day. Yet, she convinced herself that these struggles were just part of the ballet world. After all, the ballerinas in the most prestigious companies had gone through much worse. Madeline believed that she simply wasn't strong enough yet.

In the solitude of the studio, she pushed her body through the variation one final time. As her muscles trembled and her legs threatened to give out with every move, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the large mirror in front of her. She watched as her shaking limbs seemed to amplify the dying and fatal motions of the swan, transforming the dance into a display of intense urgency and desperation.

Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, proof of her physical exertion. But it was the reflection in the glass that truly captured her attention. Despite the beautiful lines of her facial features, there was a hint of anguish and exhaustion in her expression. Like the dying swan she portrayed, her spirit and morale were crumbling under the weight of this performance.

part two coming soon where madeline and max actually meet! this part was rlly just a lottt of exposition :) x

[lupiinist]

Emmeline Vance, Emma vanity

Where did they come from like I can’t Rember them being referenced in the book (not that it matters😭😭) but also what are liek the best bc for them (house, bsf, personalit, style) cs I wanna know more abt them

oh, actually, i have no idea where they were first mentioned, i never finished the books (i'm reading them now because i got them as a surprise gift, sort of against my will lol), but if i had to guess, probably some extra content book! (i sorta went to google it and emmeline i think was mentioned in the... sixth? fifth book? something like that!)

as for hc, i also don't see a lot of them in the fandom, but i'm happy to share mine!

for emmeline:

i don't know for sure if she has an official hogwarts house, i don't think so, but i personally like her in ravenclaw, she's the seeker from her quidditch team, which often makes other people surprised, because she doesn't seem the type, but she's very athletic. she likes sports as much as she likes charms (it's her favorite class), and she's got a great memory for spells and for history of magic. i think she would be besties with both pandora (she likes the way pandora thinks, and they study together often), emma (they train together for quidditch, and they even dated for a while), and also marlene (emmeline likes marlene's vibe, they are good friends). emmeline has a more "girly" style, painted nails, little hairpins with interesting shapes (gifts from pandora), and make-up are her go-to. she loves styling her hair in cute ways (space buns, pigtails, braids, anything that comes to mind).

for emma:

she's a slytherin girl boss through and through, quidditch team captain (this one i think it's actually a canon fact), a sports enthusiast, she's very focused, very serious, very professional. her goal is to be a pro player, and she will. she's a year older than the marauders, not fan of many classes, but very good in potions and defense against the dark arts, with dada being her favorite class, but minerva being her favorite teacher. she's tough, smart and knows how to pick and win a fight. i like to think that emma's best friend was emmeline, but she had a special bond with regulus, she had him under her wing in quidditch, and he sees her as the greates player he ever saw, they have a cute mentor/student relationship, reggie respects her a lot! (she played as a chaser, btw!). emma, contrary to what people think by her last name, wasn't really vain, at least not with her appearance, she was always messy, with her hair tied, because it was easier for her to fly any time like that, and she always had a heavy coat even when was hotter, because she spent most of her time flying around. her favorite color is purple, and she likes shiny things. i hc her as a black person, very curly hair, and although being in slytherin in a time where most students in the house were purbloods, she's either half-blood or muggleborn

i absolutely love making hcs, thank you so much for asking! i've been working a bit more on emmeline and emma recently for a fic i'm writing, so it's always good to put those little details down in words! i hope you liked it c;

[pretty-dianxia]

Jumping in this discussion of this ask and this ask-post by @thegreymoon (follow them to get in your dash incredible art and 2ha content.)

*

The list of content warnings at the beginning of the novel is clear. While Meatbun narrates, at no point is there any justification or absolution for the acts committed by Taxian Jun or for Chu Wanning's feelings towards a minor. 2ha doesn't have a banner that says "ranwan overcomes the obstacles of dubious consent, abuse, violence, and loving a minor, and in the end, you have a happy ending with two stable characters according to the readers' moral standards." I said love towards a minor because it isn't pedophilia, Chu Wanning only felt sexual attraction after his retirement and sees an adult Mo Ran. He turns on because of his horny dreams that are with an adult Mo Ran/Taxian Jun. As a matter of fact, the idea of Mo Ran and him having sex was impossible and nonexistent in his mind until Mo Ran shouts "Watch me fuck you to death," and the proof is Chu Wanning's reactions towards Mo Ran's previous acts like that gifted embroidered handkerchief; he goes "cute, I have an adorable student, he is the best, amazing boy, most generous and kind, truly this master's favourite." After Mo Ran's words (fuck you to death), Chu Wanning's reaction was the equivalent of "This student of mine, he is getting astray, he is getting bolder, he is being rude, defying my authority, what have I done wrong?? 'Fuck me?' what a joke! he needs punishment, and someone to teach him manners!!".

What Meatbun does is offer perspective from both sides. That is to say, on the one hand, we see how Taxian Jun abuses his teacher, but on the other, we see firsthand (through dreams) Chu Wanning's perception of those acts. Then we have Chu Wanning feeling guilty about the attraction he feels towards his student (note that despite what he felt, he never acted on it), but we also see what Mo Ran's feelings were towards him. Later, when Mo Ran begins to discover what really happened and notices Shi Mei as the mind behind everything, he never uses the flower to justify his actions; the violence he committed against Chu Wanning he finds it unforgivable; and Chu Wanning finds his attraction to Mo Ran a crime, a violation of his professorial status, and an impossibility that should not happen. And it is precisely all of the above that makes the interactions between these two characters in the world created by Meatbun so attractive to many of us.

RanWan develops not by justifying acts nor by forgiving them, but by accepting what happened and without taking away the name or weight of the violence. In the end, the only person who can declare his forgiveness for Mo Ran's actions is Chu Wanning, and the only person who can deny or accept Chu Wanning's feelings is Mo Ran.

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (fem) reader headcanons⛏️

(Vogue Dancer Reader Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request’s here! This is an interesting yet really nice request, thank sooo much for requesting this man!)

- The second you bring the mere topic of vogue dancing up, they’re so excited, bobbing up and down as they talk about it.

- I mean, dancing in general is a part of history and culture, and with how vogue dancing is enriched with the culture of the LGBTQ+ racial minorities AND being based on ancient Egyptian art among other things?? It’s like it’s made for them.

- I’m sure they always wanted to do this, but never had much time to do so considering their job as an archaeologist, but with you in the equation and willing to teach them??? You’re like an angel and they tell you as such.

- They’re incredibly enthusiastic about it, seeing it as both an opportunity to learn about the past differently besides reading or excavating, and also as a way to bond with you even more.

- That enthusiasm has its setbacks however as you have to make sure they don’t immediately go overboard as you teach them the basics, leading them whining and trying to convince you that they can and failing miserably.

- When I mean miserably I mean miserably, all I can say is that it takes a bit before they listen to you and take it slow.

- They just tend to dive head-first into things, metaphorically and literally, the medkit nearby is a good friend of yours at this point.

- They love everything about this, the dancing, the music, the learning, you. Thinks they’re so lucky to be learning from you, says as such to both you and anyone willing to listen.

- Makes a point to compliment and flirt with you throughout it to see if they can make someone as skilled as you fumble, only to kiss up on you as you try to lecture them.

- But besides anything, they mean well and learn fast, being a fantastic student for anything that inspires and excites them. But besides that, I think it’d take time for them to do things fluidly, they’re not the most graceful or coordinated as we all know.

- So, thank god that a lady like you is dating and teaching them, they don’t want another fiasco involving them and a broken floor.

- Becomes even more of a smug little shit when they steadily get more and more in tune with it all, a once horrendous dancer turned great with your patience and expertise.

- If they can help it, they try to make the time to schedule these dance lesson dates in between their work, the second they get the chance, nothing can stop them from dancing with their girlfriend it’s simply impossible.

- They have priorities and those priorities entail them fumbling around trying to learn, laughing coming from the two of you, and the music booming filling the room alongside it.

- It’s a great time in general, and they pride themselves on being the one who gets the bragging rights of learning how to dance from such a great dancer like you.

- The passion of learning and being able to impress you fill them to improve, and simply just dancing with you is enough to spur them into becoming more successful with their attempts at dancing.

- Gloats 100%, it’s not Sloane Cameron if they’re not being a little show off lol.

- The bragging amps up too, especially when it comes to Mauga, says foul shit like, “It’s a shame you have to make people dance for you while I have a lovely girlfriend who dances with me whenever I ask. 😇”

- After every dance session where you’re both left sweaty and your limbs aching they don’t fail to hug you and smooch your head with an ample amount of affection, squeezing you a bit harder as you teasingly tell them they’re too sweaty and gross to be doing that.

- Sloane in general is a 10/10 to date and people will never convince me otherwise.

(Hope I was able to portray this well, it’s an absolutely brilliant idea! Love you guys byeeee!!)

[iamumbra195]

I want someone to write a bleach AU where Ichigo meets Rukia in his early twenties when he's a stressed out college student trying to figure out what he want to do with his life after trying to go down a medical route and not liking it but not knowing what else to do (I'm projecting so hard but we're ignoring that)

The chaotic potential of Ichigo going through his classes and having to run out randomly to deal with a hollow, of rukia attending his classes with him without formally being a student, of the chaos Kon would create

Give me architecture student Orihime that he occasionnaly talks to because of mutual friends like Tatsuki. Give me fashion design student Ishida that Ichigo doesn't recognize because he never bothered to know his classmates beyond a few here and there and Ishida definitely wasn't one of them.

Give me vet student Chad that has like three cats in his and Ichigo's shared dorm that are definitely not supposed to be there but Ichigo loves them. Rukia absolutely loves them as well.

unhinged ichigo fighting hollows the same way he used to fight those gang members in high school because he wants the adrenaline rush. He would probably get on with Shiro a little better too XD.

Ichigo, who started seeing hollows when he was like sixteen after being attacked by them. Ichigo, who has a weird little power that he doesn't quite know how to use that looks like this weird fullbring thing except without the pass so it's more of like a quincy arrow just not the usual blue colour. It's not really powerful enought to fully take out a hollow cause he doesn't know how to control it but it protects him long enough to get away

It's an interesting idea, to have him see hollows but not be strong enough to fight them the way he usually does for a long time until Rukia comes along. His attitude towards the whole thing would be a little different as well.

Also having spiritually aware Inoue, Chad, and Tatsuki but the former two don't have their powers because they haven't been fully exposed to Ichigo's leaking reiatsu when he gets his soul reaper powers.

Having Tatsuki be closer to Ichigo because of this is a nice touch too, cause now the two of them can both see spirits and Ichigo doesn't quite feel as lonely as he used. The two of them having a rekindled friendship makes me happy for some reason and idk, her just teasing Inoue for having a crush on him and like, plotting to get them together with some help from Rukia when she arrives because she likes to tease Ichigo about Orihime all the time

Oh, and her having a water style fullbring that she incorporates into her martial arts and creates something like Fishman Karate from One piece would be super cool too. She just gives me water vibes for some reason

Also, Ichigo not being teen makes him far less susceptible to manipulation from the adults in his life, more mature, and probably less forgiving— that last part is because I want Ichigo to punch Urahara for what he did to Rukia in the SS arc because I sort of hate that he was forgiven so easily like Rukia didn’t even seem to care???

That makes me so angry for some reason. Like I like Urahara’s character but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s a shady shit. I feel like older Ichigo would be less tolerant of his antics than teen Ichigo

Idk, it just seems like such a funny idea to me-- chaotic substitute soul reaper Ichigo + College stress and the existential crisis of trying to figure out what the fuck you wanna do with your life = hilarity

(I'm projecting so hard, someone help me, my coping mechanism for stress is escapism and I've missed like three deadlines and there's like two weeks before school starts and I haven't even gotten around to making my schedule yet, I'm dying pls)

[saintsenara]

I am literally so stressed right now since school is starting up again. I was just scrolling through your posts and I absolutely adore your opinions and thoughts. If you’re still up to the ships asks, I have a few.

For some reason, I have been thinking about age-gap relationships that wouldn’t be quite possible…and added with my love of Severus Snape… 👀👀

Abraxas Malfoy/Severus Snape - I don’t know if you’ve done Lucius/Severus but I just took it a generation back.

Romulus Augustus Lestrange/Severus Snape - I remember you mentioning in Scylla and Charybdis that the two were kindred spirits (?) since they were both killed by Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrange/Severus Snape - maybe a bunch of sexual tension during missions? Bellatrix’s attitude toward Severus was mainly suspicion but I feel like she meant it in a ha-ha-I’m-jealous-you’re-the-favorite way, not in a oh-wait-he-actually-is-a-traitor way.

Marlene McKinnon/Severus Snape - I love your take that she was a seasoned veteran in the First Wizarding War. It never made sense to me that everyone in the First Order were all children. Majority, maybe. But all of them being Gryffindors and out-of-school never stuck to me.

Frank Longbottom/Severus Snape - I’ve read a few works for this and I like the few takes there are.

And I already know your thoughts on Lord Voldemort/Severus Snape (it’s a favorite).

I’ve also been thinking about time-travel fix-it’s in general too. How do you think Severus would react if he found himself in Tom Riddle’s era? There’s the take on him being older and aware and absolutely done with his life, and Lord Voldemort (few years out of school or maybe in his 30s to level the age in a way) whose intrigued by the sour man (and maybe gets impressed by his knowledge of the Dark Arts?). Then there’s also student Severus meeting student Tom and getting further radicalized by this young handsome man. There’s so many to explore but at this point, if I don’t get my head out of this rabbit hole, I may never be able to pass school. 😭😭

This turned out to be longer than expected, but I love reading your posts! It’s always so entertaining, especially with your interpretation of Severus Snape. I can rarely ever talk about Severus without being attacked by Marauders fans online.

thank you very much for the ask, pal! i hope this term goes well for you - and that your extremely chic recent interest in snape-related age gap relationships endures.

let's see what we have here...

abraxas malfoy/severus snape romulus lestrange/severus snape

i'm going to take these two together - since romulus is an original character who exists nowhere other than my own head - because they occupy essentially the same role in relation to snape.

i've written before about how i really like the idea of voldemort having three distinct impacts across three separate generations - the knights of walpurgis/the original death eaters, who know the proto-voldemort of the 1940s and 1950s, with his muggle name and his retail job; these men's sons, who know the unassailably powerful voldemort of the 1970s; and these men's sons, who know the paranoid and volatile voldemort of the 1990s.

so you have abraxas - lucius - draco in each of those categories [or, romulus - rodolphus - n/a...]

snape is - of course - part of lucius and rodolphus' generation, and the voldemort he encounters when he becomes a death eater is the unstoppable political force who appears to be made of pure magic - which, naturally, makes snapemort have a very different power dynamic to something like tombraxas.

but it's also clear that snape is someone voldemort takes an interest in because he recognises so much of his former self in him - the slightly feral vibes, the poverty, the disappointing muggle father, the feeling of being an outcast surrounded by posh kids and the desire to bend those same kids to your will.

this is the reason for voldemort arranging things in scylla and charybdis so that snape can lord it over mulciber and avery, and it's also the reason why he's so insistent that abraxas and romulus [and other senior death eaters he knew at school] are nice to him - he's basically enjoying reliving his youth by, once again, making his minions obey someone who is technically their social inferior.

snape lacks the teenage tom riddle's charm [and looks], of course, which means that there's far more condescension inherent in any relationship - platonic or otherwise - that either of these two would have with him than there was in their early relationship with voldemort.

but they also have a fondness for spindly lads with an obsession with magic and regional accents, which means that i'm sure that something can come out of the fireside chats voldemort's compelling them to have with snape while they're forced to host him in their houses...

bellatrix lestrange/severus snape

i am very, very fond of this as a pairing - and, indeed, have something in the works on the topic - and bellatrix's rampant jealousy of snape is exactly why.

one of my preferred ways of exploring snape's position within the death eaters is to think of him as voldemort's exception in terms of social class - that is, that he is the only marked death eater who doesn't come from an elite, quasi-aristocratic background; and that voldemort's supporters who are from lower social classes are kept, like fenrir greyback in the rank-and-file and not permitted to take the mark.

[this is why, in my writing, i always make the carrows a similar level of posh to the malfoys and lestranges - canonically they're rather one-note working-class stereotypes, but i don't think this makes sense given what we know about voldemort's structuring of his organisation during the first war. it's also why i think that peter pettigrew doesn't receive a dark mark until he returns to voldemort post-prisoner of azkaban.]

bellatrix - on the other hand - is voldemort's exception in terms of gender [and another thing i'm wedded to thinking is that alecto carrow also doesn't receive the dark mark until the second war.]

these means, of course, that both she and snape depend on voldemort's favour - especially in the first war, when he still trusts his death eaters sufficiently highly to delegate things to them - much more than the elite male death eaters do.

i think it's reasonable to assume, for example, that rodolphus may object to his wife behaving in a way which defies the gendered conventions elite pureblood women are clearly subject to - and that it's only voldemort's authority that prevents him voicing an objection publicly. or that lucius malfoy - like sirius - conceives of snape as his "lapdog", and it's only voldemort's authority which forces him to treat him as a peer.

which means, of course, that snape and bellatrix are in competition with each other for voldemort's attention in ways which the other death eaters never have to be - which explains their vibe in canon, in which bellatrix finds snape's elevation in voldemort's good books after she falls from grace after the cock-up in the department of mysteries so infuriating.

[it also gives a really interesting dimension to her being completely fucking right about snape's loyalties, but being in the wrong position in voldemort's eyes for her opinion to be trusted by him. you just know she was pissed when she got to the afterlife.]

and - from a shipping perspective - having to be constantly jealous of and obsessed with each other is a very effective way of lighting a spark...

marlene mckinnon/severus snape

i do always like snape with an older woman, because i think it fits his whole vibe, so he goes very nicely with my preferred vision of marlene as a fifty-year-old hard-nosed ministry bitch who fucking loathes mad-eye moody.

the meet-cute? well, spies have to have handlers, don't they? dumbledore passing over his new turncoat death eater to one of his senior lieutenants - particularly given the fact that she's unlikely to be thrilled about this - is something i can get on board with.

frank longbottom/severus snape

frank and alice are other ones i don't enjoy seeing written as part of the marauders' generation - for them to be well-established aurors by the time the lestranges attack them, i think it's reasonable to assume that they're around molly and arthur's age [that is, around ten years old than snape et al.]

so i think we're repeating the same scenario as above - frank needs to debrief the order's new spy. if you know what i mean...

time-travelling snape!

i think that the teenage tom riddle would fucking hate the teenage snape, to be honest. the teen snape we meet in canon is someone who really obviously refuses to play along with the social conventions which govern an institution as elite as hogwarts - and he clearly stands out more for his grubby, feral demeanour, his uncouth manners, his way of speaking, and his refusal to be deferential to his social superiors than he does for his name and blood-status.

[indeed, he's one of the only really visibly working-class students we ever meet in canon - to the extent that i am increasingly convinced that hogwarts is a selective school...]

the young voldemort, in contrast, happily plays along with these social conventions for his own ends - simpering through slug club meetings and sending slughorn pineapple and doing all he can to be viewed as a suitable candidate for head boy, in order both to provide a cover for his wrongdoing and as a way to soothe the chip on his shoulder by beating the posh at their own game.

he's going to think snape's as common as muck, and snape's going to think he's a pretentious cunt.

a post-1981 snape going back in time and finding himself entangled with the young-adult voldemort, in contrast, i think could be rather compelling. it's very interesting that the teenage voldemort's willingness to play-act a fondness for the class system doesn't extend to being prepared to grit his teeth and suffer through a ministry internship slughorn procures for him - and his decision to go off and work in a shop has a slightly bolshy "fuck you, sir" side to it we don't otherwise really see from him.

this voldemort would, i think, be slightly more open to snape's whole vibe, and they could get cracking on all the things which make snapemort a hot ship - the shared love of magical experimentation, the dubious morality, the fact that voldemort's clearly responsible for snape's aesthetic, and so on - several decades early.

one question, though, is whether snape would know who he was.

i go back and forth on how widely voldemort's birth name is known - and whether it's ever connected to him following his return to britain in the mid-1960s.

on the one hand, i think dumbledore's secrecy surrounding it is nonsensical - a substantial proportion of the death eaters were clearly at school with voldemort, and those who weren't are still usually related to these men in some way [i always think, for example, that it's much more plausible to assume that the diary horcrux was given to abraxas malfoy, and that lucius was well aware that his father and voldemort had been at school together] - but on the other, i do wonder whether snape, who comes into voldemort's orbit as - as i've said - an exception would be made privy to the information about voldemort's background which was probably an open secret among the elite male death eaters.

[which also provides an explanation for why bellatrix is so shocked to hear harry say voldemort's a half-blood in order of the phoenix, while lucius malfoy doesn't bat an eyelid.]

which is to say, i am much more taken by the idea of snape - destroyed with grief over lily's death - rocketing backwards three decades, landing in the knockturn alley of 1951, and having no idea until he's in far too deep who the softly-spoken shop-boy who offers him a cuppa will turn out to be...

[gay-rad-desert]

Grantaire and Combeferre

My @drinkwithme-exchange gift for @deadgayturtles !! I hope you like it :)

Accompanying headcanons for these drawings are under the cut :D

Grantaire and Combeferre meet in primary school in drama club and quickly become close friends 

because they’re both little weird theatre nerds 

they rehearse their lines together 

already back then, they start to come up with their own ideas for short plays together and frequently improvise scenes together just for fun

they continue to visit the same high school where they’re both taking the same drama class 

with the end of high school approaching, Grantaire decides to attempt at getting into art school but simultaneously, he’s having a rough time mentally and doubts himself a lot

Combeferre is the person who keeps encouraging him patiently, is always there for Grantaire and helps him to work hard on his application 

Grantaire ends up getting accepted at his dream school 

Grantaire moves away to go to art school and he moves in with Joly and Bossuet 

they’re the most fun roommates he could’ve asked for and the three of them have a fun time during college

Grantaire really thrives in art school and decides to add drama and teaching to his career plan

he graduates and gets his first job as a teacher quite young, but keeps living with Joly and Bossuet, who are both still studying

his students love him and Grantaire manages to write an original play together with them in only his first year of teaching (and it’s actually a big success)

meanwhile the students from his art class are in charge of designing the stage and the costumes

Combeferre is going to medical school in a different city

Enjolras and Courfeyrac become his roommates and close friends

Combeferre is severely struggling with med school, he loves everything he learns and it is his passion but he’s constantly burnt out, not sleeping enough and struggling a lot to keep up and balance it with taking care of himself

Enjolras and Courfeyrac of course notice that their friend isn’t doing well and they talk to him and help him realise that he can’t keep going like this

he pauses his studies for a while and starts going to therapy, trying to make his life work out again

he decides to change career plans in favor of his health and becomes a teacher for biology and drama

a few years in the future, Combeferre has his fist day as a teacher at a new school, and he’s very nervous about it

the principal tells him he’s gonna be working closely together with their second drama teacher and walks him to the drama classroom to introduce him to his colleague 

when Combeferre walks into the room, he can’t believe his eyes when he spots Grantaire cleaning a huge whiteboard

and this is how they meet again after being parted on their separate journeys through college 

they obviously become an absolutely iconic and fun teacher duo

[hpsaffics]

✨ WLW Wed: Ginmione ✨

A biweekly HP femslash rec list made by the lovely members of the HP SAFFICS (18+) discord server. See all previous rec lists in the WLW Library.

Currently: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley Previously: Teacher/Student (see list)

—

💫 LONG (>10k) 💫

Written in the Body by poetheather [M, 319k]

Being tortured by by Bellatrix changes Hermione in a big way. She decides that no one else is allowed to write her life and is determined to live her life her own way. This includes going after the love of her dreams. Now all she has to do is figure out who they are

Distractions by @morningsound15 [T, 86.7k]

Ron and Hermione have recently broken up, and Ginny — concerned for her best friend — has decided that the only thing for Hermione to do now is to date someone new to make Ron jealous. And who better than Hermione’s best friend (and coincidentally Ron’s younger sister) to drive him absolutely mental?

Image of You by angelic1_hp [M, 73.3k]

The engagement party of Ron and Hermione is one that Ginny really didn't want to attend. Ginny has tried to lose herself in alcohol, sex and a relationship with a man she could never love until the one she really wants comes back into her life.

Rumour Has It by Melacka, @artymakeart, @showknight [T, 31.2k] WITH ART!

Ginny doesn't remember giving the reporter the quote, but she's certainly never been one to back away from a challenge. And she's certainly not going to deny that she's in a relationship with Hermione just to make a few bigots feel better about themselves. Or, Ginny accidentally outs Hermione to the whole Wizarding World. Fake dating shenanigans ensue.

The Thing With Feathers by @maraudersaffair [E, 25.4k]

After Ron’s death, Hermione feels adrift with only her books and Ministry job to keep her grounded. This all changes when she accepts an invitation to Ginny’s Quidditch match and catches herself wondering: when did Ginny get so fit?

Gluttony by Ely_Baby [E, 11.2k]

The Second Wizarding War damaged people more deeply than they'd like to believe.

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💫 MEDIUM (3-10k) 💫

Last Minute Admission by flooj9235 [G, 9.8k]

In the last moments before the Trio heads off to hunt Horcruxes, Hermione takes a moment to tell Ginny something important.

Unexpected Pleasures by kerisempai [M, 7.1k]

A case of mistaken identity leads to questions for Hermione.

Like That by Robyn_Iwanagi [T, 6.5k]

Ginny's never minded sharing a bed with Hermione when she stays over, well, if you don't count that she has a—frankly, massive—crush on her... And she's still got a couple days before the World Cup, and ... She has no idea how she's going to manage. And thats not even getting started on the cuddling.

Five Times Ginny Asked Hermione To Marry Her by icerose92 [T, 5.4k]

It took Ginny a while to get Hermione to agree to marry her.

Wishful Thinking by @owlswithfins [T, 4.2k]

Harry and Hermione are both in love with a Weasley. Like canon, but gayer.

The Witches Are Coming by @neontinkerbell [E, 4.2k]

Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger get their bloody revenge, then they Get Some.

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💫 SHORT (<3k) 💫

Sneaking by tealeaf523 (ConstantComment) [E, 1.2k]

Hermione and Ginny keep disappearing together; the boys are about to accidentally find out what they've been up to.

Untitled by Anonymous [T, 1.6k]

Ginny is all warmth and strength and movement.

handing you my whole life by @evadwrites [M, 1.0k]

Hermione thinks she’s destined to kneel before Ginevra Potter, always begging for scraps. For years, she will wonder whether Ginny’s willingness to offer them was born out of cruelty or kindness. The question will remain unspoken, unanswered.

The Practical by Jude [M, 285]

Ginny thought everything was going along swimmingly. And then Hermione pulled the book out from under her pillow.

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