#hogwarts house mention

[rosetyler42]

Hi! I'm curious to know about your Hotel Transylvania OC's 😁

Get ready for an Infodump below the cut! XD

Lucy and Simon Van Dracula, or the Van Dracula Twins, are my version of Drericka ship children. They're born 13 min apart by Cesarian, and were something of a surprise considering Ericka's advanced age.

Lucy (full name "Lucille") is the oldest, and despite her vampire powers and pride in being monstrous, she takes after her mother and Brother-in-law. She's a chaotic mischievious free-spirited laid back fun-loving charmer, a real little Terror who knows her legendary status and is proud of it. Unlike Dennis or Mavis, though, Lucy has a PRIDE in her monstrosity. She ENJOYS it. In a way, she's something like Ericka's chaotic inner child given voice, and given the monstrosity Ericka and Johnny never got. She's also has far more freedom and social interaction growing up than Mavis, having grown up around both humans and monsters when monsters no longer had to hide...and Ericka's far less uptight a parent than Drac or Mavis, as she wants her kids to have the freedom she never did and she herself was training from a young age. Drac's also relaxed a bit over the century since having Mavis, though he's still the more uptight of the two. I figured him having to deal with a bouncy crazy ball of chaos for a kid would be funny, considering he's not good with chaos XD She's into dramatics and art/drawing, is a natural at languages, and has her mother's skill in gymnastics and martial arts...augmented by her father's vampire powers, of course! Unlike Dennis, she can also hypnotize and has hypnosis resistance, and her animal transformations are fully dark brown like her hair instead of black.

If Lucy is Ericka's inner child, Simon is Drac's. He's sorta what would have happened if Dennis or Drac never got Vampire powers. Like his father, he's on she shyer, quieter, more timid side and is the pragmatic braincell to Lucy's shenanigans. That said, there's something of a "Beware the quiet ones" to him. While his family is loving and accepting, he feels like the odd one out, both due to his lack of powers and unusual chunky size, and has had to work to be scary. Ericka and Drac both went to great lengths to make sure Simon never went through feeling like the "Weak little boy" Dennis did, and since Ericka and Drac aren't as overprotective, Simon's less over-sheltered than Dennis was. Where Lucy is the "Looks like she could kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll," Simon inherited his mom's "Looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually KILL you" tendency. And like her, he'll do it either with deadly coldness or a smile. Ontop of this, the boy has a love of sailing and the ocean...especially the more scarier aspects like Pirates, electric eels, sharks, piranha, squid and octopi, and of course...krakens and other sea/water monsters. He also has his mom's love and nerd-dom of weaponry. It's part of his way of being scary. I've also drawn him and Dennis playing with the old "My First Guillotine" somewhat inspired by the scene in the HT2 novelization where Dennis uses the guillotine to chop off an action figure's head and that scene in Addams Family Values with Pubert, Pugsley, and Wednesday. Simon's more into cooking and playing the ukelele in terms of hobbies, and while he isn't as good with languages as his sister, knows a fair amount.

Dynamic-Wise, they're kinda like Ian and Barley from Onward, Wednesday and Pugsley from The Addams Family, Zack and Cody from the Suite Life, or Phineas and Ferb.

Both of them have slowed aging after 5 years old, enhanced durability, strength, agility, and speed (Though Lucy's is of course more obviously powered while Simon's more just beyond average.) They're a bit cooler than normal humans and have slower heart beats. And while they can both day walk, they can still sunburn and are allergic to both garlic and silver. (While Ericka and Drac taught them both to use weapons, they're not allowed to use wooden stakes or silver weapons just in case.) Although none of them are as deadly to them as they would be to a pure-blood vamp.

In terms of culture: James, Mavis, Dennis, and Abraham are the twins' main exposure to human things (esp. prior to school) as Drac and Ericka don't really have experience with normal human culture themselves. Since the Dracula family is Jewish coded and Ericka's family is christian coded, I decided the twins are interfaith, raised with both Christianity and Judaism so both cultures get celebrated without one overshadowing the other. Their Hebrew names are Shimown and Liorit for Simon and Lucy respectively. They're basically Russian, Romanian, possibly Hungarian going off the OG book, and Dutch. I also love the idea where... since Drac largely raised Mavis alone, and these two are twins to middle age parents...I like the idea of the pack helping raise these two. After all, Drac's apparently close enough to the pack for the Werewolf pups to call him uncle and Mavis to call Eunice "Auntie," so why not? Johnny and Mavis are even the god parents of the Twins and often the ones to help out since they live in the same building (and are the best options out of the pack.) They of course know everything about Martha and how Mom was originally trying to kill dad. Drac even made his own storybook saying how they met (The Drac-Tastic read along from the Bluray. "I saw it on a Blu-ray disc. Bonus stuff." XD) I also have a headcanon they're into Goosebumps, especially Lucy. Her favorite is Slappy. Simon also likes 2000 Leagues Under the Sea, and they both grew up with Sesame Street and Blues Clues. (I've been on a kick and hey, they're probably more tolerable than Kakie.) I also have the headcanon Lucy looks up to Johnny quite a bit, while Simon more identifies with Mavis, Dennis, and Frankenstein.

For names: Lucy is named after Lucy Westenra, the first female vamp turned on-screen in the OG book and adapations. Though in universe, Drac named her Lucille, probably from a mix of a female version of Lucifer and it meaning "Little Light." Lucy is a nickname. Liorit also means "My Light." As for Simon, I went with the in-universe idea Ericka simply had ancestor named Simon and liked the name. But in reality, I simply reused a name from an early version of Johnny (and possibly re-used into Ericka) called Simon Van Helsing, who was originally a monster hunter who fell for Mavis after finding the hotel. Simon and Shimown also means "Harkening" which is perfect considering Drac...could REALLY use a reminder to listen to others sometimes. XD

Their inspirations of course are something of a mix of Pubert Addams - both Normal and Addams-esque; Wedneday and Pugsley, Popeye and Bluto, @lovelylivelyv 's Bendy OC Jack Nephalem, Uncle Fester and Debbie, Abraham Van Helsing and the other large Van Helsing bricks + their bucktoothed overbite, Mother Gothel (kinda), Dr. Frankenfurter, Katharyn Hahn, Human!Drac, Vampirica, the HT2 Vamp Kids at Winniepecaca, "What if Drac had a humany son instead of a vampire after what happened with Dennis?", "What if he had a child like Johnny and Ericka?" The promo fakeout for Dennis being a "little terror", Martha art with brown hair, and "We've never seen a female Dhampir." They also kinda bear a resemblance to Pinky (PATB) and Young Man Rivers (Foster's Home.) Though that was unintentional.

I got alot more about these two, but I already stayed up too late and I need to go to bed. XD Will probably reblog with more pictures soon.

Tag list @lovelylivelyv @i1lyidkstupid @hotelt-resurrection @ssleeping-in-a-coffin

[myokk]

Being this close to her mother, Eloise was struck by their physical similarities. As a young girl, it had been impossible to see, but now that she was a young woman they were striking. She felt as if she were looking in a mirror, but a twisted mirror: everything that was warm about her appearance was turned cold in her mother: hazel eyes to a frigid silver, unruly brown hair to straight black; her mother’s skin was somehow even more pale than Eloise’s, as if she were cut from marble. Everything soft about Eloise was made sharp in her mother, and Eloise wondered what had made her this way. She was terrified that in twenty years’ time, the two of them would be indistinguishable.

Had Elladora Black always been like this? Eloise couldn’t imagine any time when her mother might have smiled, or even huffed in quiet laughter. No moments where she had been caught staring at her husband with love and warmth in her eyes. Eloise had only ever known her as an ambitious, cold woman who was always striving towards some goal, even if it was known only to her.

Someone couldn’t spend their whole life like that, could they? Even growing up at the manor, Eloise had always had Leo to confide in and love unconditionally. Had her mother ever had something - or someone - like that?

“Soon, we will be the family we were always meant to be,” Eloise’s mother said, causing Eloise to startle out of her thoughts and stare her mother in the eyes. They were filled with longing. They were mesmerizing. Eloise shivered under the intensity, but couldn’t tear her eyes away. “Soon, we will be back on our way to being the most prominent pureblood family in Britain, with the help of you and your brother. You can’t fail us. You can’t.”

From chapter 23 of my fic, Before It Felt Like A Sin

this post is dedicated to @elliecutte the only other person who is as crazy about Elladora Black as I am😌🙏

[s3raphinaa]

the black "what am i supposed to do when you used to be my lifeline?" brothers

regulus "look now i'm alone again, i've gotten used to sleeping here without you" black

sirius "though i've tried i can't pretend that i don't sit around and think about you" black

[weirdraccoon]

MC: I've decided I can't continue with this. You deserve something better and I this is not it.

Sebastian: MC stop being a drama queen, we love you and we can work through this like we always do.

MC: I'm a disaster!

Sebastian: We all are!

Ominis:...

Ominis: If this is about burned dinner I can always call one of my house elves.

Ominis: Or, you know, we could go out to eat.

[expecto-kedavra]

Remember when Sebastian said “hopefully the rest of your year isn’t as eventful” on the way to Hogsmeade

LOL OKAY SIR

[omniwhore]

This might be a hot take but I get so tired of the internets mentality of IT'S EITHER OR.

Either you buy the game nd u therefore don't give a shit about trans pple or you never touch the HP fandom w a ten foot pole again and you're ✨clensed✨

I understand both sides of this conflict so deeply.

As a nonbinary person born in a country where you still have to get sterilised in order to change your legal gender, I can come close to the outrage the trans community is feeling at people so easily compromising their principles and support for them over something like this.

But I also remember the toughest parts of my life as a neurodivergent person being stuck in depression nd anxiety and my fandoms being ny o ly reason to live and keep going. We can't control our hyperfixations and sometimes they're all we have.

All that being said I believe THERE IS A FUCKING MIDDLE GROUND.

You can absolutely, privately or publicly, consume or create HP related content without monetarily supporting JKR. JUST PIRATE THE GAME. Wait a while if you have to, you don't have to abandon your interests but you can do the bare minimum to make sure your consumption doesn't do more harm than it absolutely has to. PIRATE THE BOOKS. PIRATE THE GAMES. THE MOVIES. DON'T BUY OFFICIAL MERCH. DIY YOUR OWN MERCH. Buy stuff from fan artists whose wiews you know and support. CREATE FAN CONTENT THAT IMPROVES ON JKRS STEREOTYPE FILLED INTERPRETATIONS OF THE CHARACTERS.

The content is *yours*. Rip it from that bitch's hands and RUN WITH IT but for the love of god DON'T CONTINUE GIVING HER MONEY AND PUBLICITY

IT'S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO for your fellow trans folk out here.

[breakfast-with-a-side-of-angst]

Honestly, though, JK Rowling told us what type of person she was from the very beginning by the way she treats Hufflepuffs. They’re background characters — never taken particularly seriously. They’re martyrs or unimportant. The main characters and the villains alike have no respect for them.

JK Rowling took the characters who value things like kindness, honesty, and loyalty, and she made them a joke. They’ll never measure up against the brave or clever or cunning. She created a culture where being kind or loyal, makes you a leftover.

She told us what her values were from the very beginning.

[startanewdream]

Do you think that Percy Weasley should've been in Slytherin? I mean, his entire character revolves around ambition and he's literally the only Weasley that doesn't give me Gryffindor's "reckless bravery" vibes. It would've been interesting if he had been the only Slytherin in family full of Gryffindor which would've secretly made him feel different and excluded. It could've also been a great foreshadowing and build up to him leaving his family in later books.

I'm sure there are better meta about Percy out there (and I'd love to read them if anyone has any rec!), but I think, at the end, Percy was the bravest Weasley because it takes courage, a lot so, to admit he was wrong and go back to his family. He could have stayed away (the easiest, most coward way) but instead he went on and faced all his failures.

As for ambition, I think all Weasley kids share this trait, and it's related to their family—the Weasleys were poor, and in a way each one went for a job that would give them some sense of financial security.

I don't know if it would add to Percy's journey being a Slytherin, especially because I like the idea of Gryffindors being wrong (such as Seamus not believing about Voldemort's return either). There is an underline idea in the books that dividing people by house is not accurate and I think Percy is just another example of it. I like more the idea of Next Gen kids being in different houses and exploring how, at the end, this makes no difference.

[transinclusionary]

what hogwarts house r u?

POV: I'm reading the first page of Harry Potter

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

I'm sorely tempted myself but idk, everything the game touches turns to garbage. The antisemitism, not to mention the house elves as a selling point just...yikes.

The antisemitism is an entirely different subject by itself and I've touched on it before (to the extent that I am qualified to talk about it) but I will reserve my full judgment until I know the plot of the game. The Goblins are a part of this universe now, there's no erasing them...but there's also no need to put them at the forefront. If they're going to do that, the only justification I can think of is if they've written a story that somehow deconstructs the Goblin stereotypes and paints them in a sympathetic light.

Problem is, I somewhat doubt Rowling is interested in doing that, or even that she has the ability to do so at this point. What's strange is that Deathly Hallows pretty much already tried this, and it doesn't seem to have won over any of the readers. Like, DH already presented us with The Goblins' side of the story. To me, Griphook's story made it clear that they're not the bad guys and never were - that would be the humans. But it doesn't really change anything. They were still created with various features and traits that, (deliberately or not) make them a Jewish stereotype.

I did see a post expressing a similar sentiment, where it talked about how the game lets you have a slave, and how that's something they're advertising as a positive. I am likewise not qualified to discuss slavery and the impact it's had on the world, as I am neither a Historian nor a person of African descent...but I have to be completely honest, the House Elves...have never struck me as problematic in the first place. Happy to discuss this in greater detail if people are curious, and I'll reiterate that I don't know everything. But either way, I didn't really recoil at that particular detail.

Like...The House Elves, and your OC's family having one or not having one...it's just another one of those details. Those magical signatures that distinguish your character, that make this "your" Hogwarts adventure as HPHM, for instance, was always advertised to be. Some witches and wizards had House Elves. Yes, they had slaves. Doesn't mean they're bad people, and even if it does, that doesn't make you a bad person if your avatar has an Elf. It doesn't mean the writers or game designers are bad people for including it. Really, it's no wonder to me that they'd use this as a selling point.

Let me see if I can provide an example. If, during the character-building screen, the game asks if our MC is "Pro-Muggle," "Anti-Muggle," or "Neutral" I'm not going to condemn the game for letting us play a racist character. It's simply part of the world. Some witches and wizards were prejudiced against others based on blood status. That's just the reality of the potterverse. The option to incorporate that into our character, the choice being available, doesn't mean the player would have to choose it. But if they did, it would simply be an aspect of roleplay, right?

[chappell-roans]

off topic but I just saw a post and the whole adults reading watching media for kids or ya is bad discourse is so stupid my god. youre an adult you should be reading Tolstoy like f-

TOLSTOY LMAO.

okay so. in discourse extremes are often bad, i do think people can consume whatever they want but there is a frightening rise in adults consuming exclusively media aimed at children. and not exploring any further. the great gatsby is too hard, i'll just watch moana again. which, is fine. i've seen moana like 5 times! it hit me hard as a young adult! but like i'm not going to only watch those things. and then companies (say, disney, but basically every entertainment company) is listening to this and making things more and more dumbed down and yeah idk. again, really nothing i can do about it and acting like no one should enjoy these things is also unhelpful. but idk i do think something changed and while i (for the most part) aged out of reading john green type of ya fiction (still wanna read his nonfiction ngl), a lot of people haven't?? and IDK. i'm not saying you're wrong and like there's layers to it. there is plenty of children's media that is GOOD and made for all types of people to enjoy, but idk. i think it's the all/nothing mindset i guess sfnldm. (and just to be clear, i know that you aren't asserting everyone should just go live in fairytales and go to disneyland everyday, anon, i truly just am a sociology nerd at heart and so am going to take this opportunity to reference some articles that i read literal years ago fohisd.)

there are some articles i've read about it in passing and they're probably going to sound harsh, take with a grain of salt, i'm not saying it's all right, etc., but i mostly just find this stuff fascinating. articles and quotes below. (i ended up copy and pasting... most of the articles, so i bolded the important parts. siodfnlk again. for general reading and mostly for myself. i haven't even read tolstoy FSDKNJ.)

but i am putting this above the cut:

"But we will never make the world better if we act like this. Thinking of yourself as a smol bean baby is a way of tapping out and expecting other people to fight on your behalf. It also makes you a more pliant consumer. Social media is awash with the idea that ‘it’s valid not to be productive’, as though productivity were the only manifestation of capitalism and streaming Disney+ all day is a form of resistance. It’s much rarer to encounter the idea that we have a responsibility about what we consume, or that satisfying our own desires whenever we want is not always a good thing: “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” has morphed into “there is no unethical consumption under capitalism”." --- Everyone needs to grow up

The infantilization of Western culture

"If you regularly watch TV, you’ve probably seen a cartoon bear pitching you toilet paper, a gecko with a British accent selling you auto insurance and a bunny in sunglasses promoting batteries. This has always struck me as a bit odd. Sure, it makes sense to use cartoon characters to sell products to kids — a phenomenon that’s been well-documented. But why are advertisers using the same techniques on adults?

To me, it’s just one symptom of a broader trend of infantilization in Western culture. It began before the advent of smartphones and social media. But, as I argue in my book “The Terminal Self,” our everyday interactions with these computer technologies have accelerated and normalized our culture’s infantile tendencies.

But some cultural practices today routinely infantilize large swaths of the population. We see it in our everyday speech, when we refer to grown women as “girls”; in how we treat senior citizens, when we place them in adult care centers where they’re forced to surrender their autonomy and privacy; and in the way school personnel and parents treat teenagers, refusing to acknowledge their intelligence and need for autonomy, restricting their freedom, and limiting their ability to enter the workforce."

Visiting America in 1946, French anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss commented on the endearingly infantile traits of American culture. He especially noted adults’ childish adulation of baseball, their passionate approach to toy-like cars and the amount of time they invested in hobbies. As contemporary scholars note, however, this “infantilist ethos” has become less charming — and more pervasive.

Researchers in Russia and Spain have even identified infantilist trends in language, and French sociologist Jacqueline Barus-Michel observes that we now communicate in “flashes,” rather than via thoughtful discourse — “poorer, binary, similar to computer language, and aiming to shock.” Others have noted similar trends in popular culture — in the shorter sentences in contemporary novels, in the lack of sophistication in political rhetoric and in sensationalist cable news coverage.

While we might find it trivial or amusing, the infantilist ethos becomes especially seductive in times of social crises and fear. And its favoring of simple, easy and fast betrays natural affinities for certain political solutions over others. And typically not intelligent ones.

Democratic policymaking requires debate, demands compromise and involves critical thinking. It entails considering different viewpoints, anticipating the future, and composing thoughtful legislation. What’s a fast, easy and simple alternative to this political process? It’s not difficult to imagine an infantile society being attracted to authoritarian rule.

Unfortunately, our social institutions and technological devices seem to erode hallmarks of maturity: patience, empathy, solidarity, humility and commitment to a project greater than oneself. All are qualities that have traditionally been considered essential for both healthy adulthood and for the proper functioning of democracy.

Everyone needs to grow up

"You can see it in the widely circulated – and largely untrue – idea that the human brain isn’t developed until the age of 25, which means that anyone younger is still essentially a child. It’s there in the notion that people with ADHD can’t text back their friends because they lack object permanence (a skill that babies develop at eight months old). It’s there in the narrative that, because gay people didn’t experience a normal childhood, they’re living out a second adolescence in their twenties and thirties. It’s there in the hegemony of superhero films and the cross-generational popularity of YA, whose fans insist that grown-up literature is only ever about depressed college professors having affairs.

You can see it in Disney adults; the rise of cuteness as a dominant aesthetic category; the resurgence of stuffed animals; people who identify as Hufflepuffs on their Hinge profile; people throwing tantrums when their Gorillas rider is five minutes late; people lip-syncing, with pouted lips and furrowed brows, to audio tracks of toddlers. Sometimes, it’s less about pretending to be a child and more about harking back to a lost adolescence: narrativising your life like it’s a John Green novel or an episode of Euphoria, bragging about crazzzy exploits like smoking cigarettes on a swing or doing cocaine on a Thursday; hitting 30 and still considering yourself “precocious”.

Most complaints about the infantilism of young people have typically come from the right, which has pointed to safe spaces and trigger warnings as evidence that Gen Z and millennials have been coddled to the point of softness. The right-wing critique of infantilism usually contends that, due to a vague decline in moral fibre, young people aren’t willing to embrace the mantles of adulthood, like moving out of the family home, entering into a stable career, getting married and starting a family.

For the most part, though, swerving these milestones is not an active choice that young people are making: adulthood is something that has been denied to many of us, who couldn’t buy a flat or start a family even if we wanted to. “In an age where so much agency has been taken away from young adults, when they face futures saddled with debt, unable to access the basic material trappings of adulthood, which in turn delays entry into emotional adulthood indefinitely, a retreat into the dubious comforts of a pseudo-childhood will have its pull,” Professor Josh Cohen, psycho-analyst and author of How to Live, What to Do, tells Dazed.

That said, even if the economy is foisting an extended adolescence on us, we can still choose to assert our dignity and refuse to become “baby adults” or 26-year-old teenagers, helpless and dependent. Make no mistake: the capitalist elites want you to think of yourself as a silly little goose.

What would rejecting this helplessness look like? The right see adulthood as a process of settling down, getting married and having children; in effect, conforming to conventional gender roles and being productive members of the workforce. We obviously don’t have to buy into that, at any age. But we can aspire towards a different form of maturity: looking after ourselves, treating other people with care, being invested in something beyond our own immediate satisfaction. Infantilising yourself can often seem like a plea for diminished responsibility.

But we will never make the world better if we act like this. Thinking of yourself as a smol bean baby is a way of tapping out and expecting other people to fight on your behalf. It also makes you a more pliant consumer. Social media is awash with the idea that ‘it’s valid not to be productive’, as though productivity were the only manifestation of capitalism and streaming Disney+ all day is a form of resistance. It’s much rarer to encounter the idea that we have a responsibility about what we consume, or that satisfying our own desires whenever we want is not always a good thing: “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” has morphed into “there is no unethical consumption under capitalism”.

Children are the perfect customers: suggestible, impulsive, driven by an insatiable and replenishable desire for pleasure. This is why, in the 1950s, companies leaned into ‘the teenager’ as an emerging market – you can only sell so many long-lasting household appliances. Adverts today are as eager as ever to speak to us as though we are babies, whether it’s Innocent smoothies telling us not to eat conkers or Heinz ketchup announcing that “adulting sucks”. As Felicity Martin wrote on Dazed earlier this week, pre-teen, teen and young women are increasingly being lumped together, consuming the same culture and being marketed the same products.

In a more subtle way, conservatives self-infantilise by denying their own agency: faced with the supposed “excesses” of the movements for LGTBQ+ rights and racial justice, they see themselves as being pushed towards extremism. But categorising other people as children – who can be overruled in their own best interests – forms part of the same project: in recent years, there has been a concerted effort to raise the age at which trans people can access gender-affirming care. Legislators in at least three states in the US are currently moving to deny this treatment to adults up to the age of 25, on the basis that they are not yet mature enough to provide informed consent. Oppressed groups aren’t always infantilised – in a process known as ‘adultification’, children from racialised minorities are typically viewed as having more agency, which makes them more likely to be criminalised– but the right is happy to deploy a diversity of tactics. Just as it’s a common behaviour in abusive relationships, infantilisation can be a mechanism for political domination and control.

Even if infantilisation is being pushed upon us, even if the helplessness we feel has a tangible basis in reality, even if adulting really does suck, we can still choose to see ourselves as capable of changing our own lives and the world around us. “The harms are undeniable,” says Cohen. “Bottom line: it’s a way of learning to love your oppressor. It takes an acute loss of agency and control and transforms it into a state to be desired and enjoyed. Once you embrace this way of being, the demands and rewards of adult life are going to seem all the more remote and all the more forbidding and unpleasurable.”

[very-uncorrect]

It seems like almost every 4 person group of characters has

- the leader

- the nerd

- the weird and/or insane one

- the little sweetheart baby

Keeping that in mind rn while I create some ocs

[dykepaldi]

homestuck was so perfect for autistic teenagers bc it took characters being sorted into categories and having Attributes to its absolute extreme. forget four hogwarts houses, every character has their associated colour their zodiac sign their associated animal their dream planet their god tier class and aspect their typing quirk their pesterchum handle their weapon their planet of x and y, as well as each of them having a handful of other very quantifiable Personality Traits and Interests (e.g. this one is a clown this one is angry this one likes fashion this one is just rufio from hook for some reason) and THEN they all also have their respective ancestors and dancestors(?)(plucked that word from my memory) who have all of those things as WELL

and god not to mention the fucking quadrant system

as a 13-15 year old autistic kid i didnt even need homestuck to have a plot i just happily made a big big spreadsheet of character attributes in my brain

[ellecdc]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn’t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[coryosbaby]

Mascara || T. Riddle

Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’

Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

｡.｡ ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom

Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.

Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.

The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.

The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.

You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.

He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.

You let out a breath of air.

You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.

“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”

His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.

To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.

He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.

“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”

Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.

“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.

“Don’t.”

You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.

“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”

It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.

“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”

“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”

“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”

His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.

“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”

“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”

He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.

“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.

“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”

You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.

“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.

“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”

His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.

You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.

Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”

You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.

When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.

“Prepared, weren’t you?”

You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.

Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.

“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.

His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.

“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”

He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.

He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.

When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.

He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.

“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”

Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.

“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.

“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”

It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.

He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.

“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”

“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”

Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.

“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”

A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.

You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.

“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.

He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.

You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.

“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Bewitched Pt II

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.