#helpful slytherins

[slytherinslut0]

everyone wants to be fucked by tom riddle until that man has you pinned underneath him while fucking you so deep you’re feeling him in your stomach and he’s gripping you so tight you’re sure your skin is going to turn purple but he doesn’t even notice because he’s so fucking lost in the warmth of your cunt that he’s got his head buried in your neck and he’s growling something in parseltongue that makes you think hes trying to conjure the basilisk itself, singlehandedly ignoring every whimper and whine that effortlessly makes it past your lips as he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder because salazar fucking sakes you just feel so fucking good he doesn’t know what to do with himself besides breed you as many fucking times as he can and mark you in every possible way he can think of.

[not-rab]

[blondwhxrewrites]

✨My Mattheo Riddle Headcanons✨

Absolutely a playboy and has a high body count manwhore

Despite that, he would never cheat because my boy is EXTREMELY loyal. Once he's locked in he's locked in for life especially since he knows he loves you

You're the one for him

Princess treatment to the max 💅

Would beat up anyone that tries to flirt with you or looks at you badly

He makes sure the boys treat you with absolute respect and though he would never admit it he would love seeing you grow close to his friends

Wouldn't give up smoking for you early in the relationship but after a year or two if you asked him to try quitting he would

Likes to show you off because GODDAMN ARE YOU HOT

He doesn't know how he managed to bag you 😩🙏

Leaves hickeys on your thighs and neck and pouts whenever you try to hide them in public

Doberman energy to the max

He is your guard dog and will follow you around glaring at everyone especially if he knows you're not in the mood to talk to people

Usually is the big spoon but after his father comes back he would want you to hold him since you're one of the few people he truly feels safe with (Draco and Theo are on that list of people he feels safe with along with Narcissa since I headcanon he grew up with the Malfoys)

Has a notebook that he draws in and half of it is just filled with pictures of you that he drew yes some of them are of you nude

Can be aggressive but never with you, and he really only gets aggressive when he's frustrated or mad

He's subtle in his softness towards you in public. He isn't an easy person to read and can come off cold to other people, but he's less rigid when he is with you.

Motherfucker looks at you as if you created this world. To him, you're a goddess

Would be uncomfortable with physical touch at first (he's not used to touch that isn't either platonic or sexual)

Once he does get used to it he will actively seek it out though he wouldn't outright ask for it more like tap your hand when he wants to hold it, or place his hand on your thigh just so he can feel you

Early in the relationship, the arguments would be bad because he doesn't really know how to channel his anger into something healthy

He ends up going to Draco and Theo asking for advice and they just immediately send him to Blaise

He ends up drawing to help cope whenever he is angry and he also grows close to Blaise who had been the one to give him the advice

After that, the arguments get increasingly better along with communication too

Steals your food that little shit

Loves when you wear his clothes

Would absolutely wear anything that you gift him

He doesn't cry a lot and he prefers to be alone when he does cry but he'll let you comfort him even if it is just sitting with him and holding his hand as he lets out his emotions

He enjoys partying but he's not a party animal like others. He just stays with you and the others, drinking and making sure nobody tries anything with you

Is extremely protective of you, especially around anyone that he doesn't know or trust

Despite what everyone thinks he doesn't hate Harry Potter, I mean he doesn't like him, but it's not a mortal enemy type situation

Kinda just stays away from him and his little quartet

Does has some prejudice against muggle-borns because that's just how he was raised but after the war his views would drastically change

Is a dom and that's all I'm gonna say on that 😏

Overall not the worst boyfriend but not the best either. Your relationship with him has its ups and downs, but he truly does love you and tries his best to be good for you.

[norry-yippee]

Being a fic writer is so weird because why am I learning everything about cocaine addictions for a jegulus fic????

[lupiinist]

barty is a great cook.

like, not only because his mum taught him how to cook (gets even better if you hc him as italian or spanish [or latino, too]), but also because his friends can't cook even if their lives depended on it

regulus is a menace in the kitchen, he once burned a kettle trying to make tea, evan is too lazy to try to learn, pandora was banned from the kitchen after making something (no one really knows what it was) that got them all sick, and dorcas can do the basic, but she likes having barty cook for her

it surprises a lot of people when they learn it that that goth, punk, edgy, slightly off guy with too many piercings and tattoos to count could be the chef of his own restaurant if he wanted to. his specialty is main dishes, he's superb with pasta and meat, but also rocks the desserts

he bonded with james over food, because james is also the cook of his group of friends (he makes the most amazing desi dishes [which i won't go into much detail because honestly it's 3 am and i can't research properly right now])

opposite to what many people think, the skittles rarely order food when they're hanging out together. barty almost always cooks. more than knowing how to, he likes to cook. it's something he shares with his mum, something his father never had any influence over (after all, he was never home during supper)

most of all, barty loves to cook for evan. evan is the type of person who tends to either get into hyperfocus and forgets to eat or has a very bad week and forgets to eat. either way, he doesn't take good care of himself. barty helps by popping up in his house, making him get up from the couch and help him in the kitchen. evan doesn't cook, but he sorts the ingredients out and occasionally chops a tomato (not onions though, he hates how they make him cry). he makes barty company, and they both have slightly better weeks just because of that

so, in the end, barty loves to cook.

[cruxxio]

"Matty!!" "Not my fault you're too short, Princess." (x)

[stqrgirlie0]

Hey siri, play ‘That Should Be Me’ by Justin Bieber😫😣

#that should be mee #holdin yo hand #that should be mee #makin you laugh #that should be me.

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 9

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 1,139 |

-

The Shrieking Shack was an odd place, but one couldn’t deny that it was interesting. Barty could at least give it that, considering it’s lean and twisting frame, broken windows, and overall foreboding presence as he made his way closer, stopping at the fence that kept any onlookers at a safe distance away. He could kind of understand what drew Evan to it, just a little bit, its cold atmosphere at odds with the sunny day.

“You know,” said Barty, still gazing at the house, “I’ve never known why it’s called the Shrieking Shack.”

Behind him, he heard a stick crunch as Evan came to stand beside him. He leaned his forearms against the fence and began to speak.

“Well, they say that every night on the full moon, screams come from inside it. Hence the name Shrieking Shack. The townspeople think it’s ghosts, but I don’t think so.”

“What do you think it is?” Barty asked, curious. He didn’t bother looking back at the shack—no, his full focus was on Evan.

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “But not ghosts.”

“Not ghosts,” Barty murmured.

And maybe it was the way the sunlight was lighting up Evan’s hair, or maybe it was the way his eyes were shining with ideas, or maybe it was simply the fact that Evan was here, right next to him, after having been acting strangely for days, but Barty couldn’t help himself from lifting his hand. It felt as if watching from underwater as he reached out towards Evan, not even sure what he was about to do, just that Evan was there and that he wanted him to be closer—

“What are you doing?!”

Barty recoiled back.

“I—”

“No. Why did you do that?” Evan’s voice was filled with fear, and his eyes were darting from Barty’s face to his hand and back again. And really, wasn’t that an overreaction? It wasn’t as if Barty was doing anything bad or malicious, and yet Evan was acting as if he had caught him swinging a knife toward him.

Anger rose up suddenly and viciously, coating his throat and words as he retorted, “I could ask you the same exact thing! You’ve been doing that for days! Every time I get even slightly close to you, you leap back like I’m about to bite! It’s insane, Evan.”

“Oh, I’m insane, am I?”

“Yes, you are!”

Evan’s nostrils flared. “Really? What’s your evidence?”

“This! ” Barty placed both hands flat on Evan’s chest—or, he tried to, except Evan got to him first, shoving him backwards. Barty stumbled back several steps, glaring at Evan.

“Get off me,” Evan snapped. His chest was heaving like he had run a long distance, and for some reason, that made Barty even angrier.

“Oh?” Barty said, and took a step forward. Evan took a step back. “Does this bother you?” He took another step.

“Leave me alone,” Evan snarled at him. And then started to turn around to leave.

And that was the final straw for Barty.

He darted forward and fisted a hand in the side of Evan’s shirt, preventing him from running off.

What it didn’t prevent Evan from was violently whirling around and shoving Barty back with all the strength that being absolutely, irrevocably furious gave him.

Barty barely had time to process it before his feet were falling out from under him, and no matter how much he scrambled for a foothold, there was nothing that he could do to keep from falling.

And Evan, whose shirt was still in Barty’s hands, couldn’t do anything to keep from falling either.

Evan’s hands shot out to break his fall, but Barty hit the ground, hard. The breath left him all in one go, and he couldn’t even muster up the triumph that came with knowing that Evan was finally touching him and not immediately running off.

Evan’s soft “Oh,” drew Barty’s gaze straight to his face. And again, the breath left him.

Evan was practically lying on top of him, the only thing keeping them from being fully in contact being his hands, which bracketed either side of Barty’s arms. Evan’s eyes were pinned on Barty’s, his mouth slightly open, and he was so close that Barty could count his eyelashes if he wanted to.

A hush fell over them as they lay there, staring at each other in silence. It was like a sorcerer had put them under some spell, one that Barty didn’t feel much like disrupting.

All at once, however, that magical spell was broken as Evan seemingly realized something and scrambled up off of him, backing away like a cornered animal.

“No,” he said. “No, no, no no no no no no—”

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, breathing hard, but his muttering didn’t stop.

“No no no no—”

“Evan?” Barty asked, worried. He pushed up onto his hands, confused and taken aback by the sudden change in atmosphere. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say that Evan was… afraid. “What is it?”

Evan closed his eyes even tighter. “No no no—”

“Evan!” Barty said. He was starting to get seriously worried, and it reflected in his tone. Yet Evan still didn’t stop his mantra.

And so Barty shoved himself up and approached Evan slowly, murmuring, “Hey. It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong, okay?”

Evan shook his head sharply. His eyes were still closed.

“Evan?” Barty asked, and cautiously placed his hands on Evan’s shoulders.

Evan’s eyes flew open and latched onto Barty’s face as if it were a lifeline.

Barty searched his expression for understanding, but all he found was a terrible, bone deep fear and a horrible sense of regret. Whatever Evan’s problem was, it was taking a huge toll on him.

“What is it?” Barty demanded. “Who did this?”

“I—” Evan hesitated, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Barty repressed the impulse to shake him by the shoulders and demand to know what was wrong, to know how he could help and make him feel better.

“What is it?” Barty asked softly. Evan sucked in a shuddering breath, and then, like it pained him, moved his eyes from Barty’s face. Barty watched in confusion as Evan slowly dropped his gaze to Barty’s arm.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” he breathed, then launched himself into Barty’s arms. He burrowed his face into Barty’s neck and started laughing, sounding a bit hysterical as he hiccuped and clung to Barty. Barty could do nothing but wrap his arms even tighter around him.

“Hey, uh,” he said, “not that I’m not enjoying this, but what’s going on?”

Evan pulled back, looking at Barty through red rimmed—yet happy—eyes. Wordlessly, Evan brought his left arm down and rotated it to show him his forearm, where Barty knew his soulmate mark was.

Except Evan’s soulmate mark was no longer black.

-

(Part 10 is here)

[perciver4ever]

*Slytherin Percy au*

Oliver: *Stumbles into The Great Hall with a Slytherin tie*

Fred: Oh wow Ollie!

George: Enjoying your time in Slytherin?

Oliver: What do you mea- oh- shit-

Percy: *Walks into the Great Hall and turns to Oliver, pointing at his GRYFFINDOR tie*

Fred & George: WHAT?!

[glassy-eyed-poet]

Evan, crawling back to Pandora, both of them on opposite sides of the war now, begging for her to help him with her seer abilities while he tips on the edge of insanity.

Pandora, losing a part of herself as she watched her twin slip away, repeating the words their family had engraved in her mind when she was just a child, when Evan had wiped her tears after: "My dreams are just dreams."

[moonstruckmoony]

So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.

Green and Gold

She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.

The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.

“Close your eyes, snowflake.”

Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?

Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 

She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.

He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.

And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.

Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.

To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.

He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.

None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·

[expectopatronum18]

OH MY GOD

I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS 😂😂💅💅💚🐍🐍

[blondwhxrewrites]

Sigh

Baby daddy!Mattheo.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott

Theo in black and white🪩

[thepettieststar]

Slytherin skittles donate blood

Reg: we are NEVER donating blood again!

Evan: the second you walk in there it’s just questions questions questions

Dorcas: “where did you get it?”

Barty: “why is it in a bucket?”

Pandora: so nosy

[norry-yippee]

Remus has dyslexia and Regulus has dyscalculia (number dyslexia)