#square trelawney

[mamoru-chiba-ua]

This is my favorite childhood cartoon. And these were supposed to be stickers on it for #ComicConUkraine I hope I will still have an opportunity to offer them to fans

[kailiberarts]

MS Paint is getting ahold on the title of "Favorite Art Program to Use", and here's some evidence

(Also a meme edit below because why not :] (Sound warning though))

[scromgold-is-gay]

They standin there all goofy aah

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

congrats on 5k, mae!! can i request lily with the academic rivals trope? please and thank you! 🤍

Thanks for requesting my love!

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 608 words

“Now,” Professor Trelawney’s voice is low and grandiose, her hands gesturing seemingly aimlessly around the smoke emanating from her candlestick, “tell me, what do you see?” 

Your hand goes up, but Trelawney’s eyes go elsewhere. You look to your left, and Lily’s hand is also raised high. 

“Miss Evans?” 

Lily brushes a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s rising in a spiral,” she says, “which symbolizes change and new beginnings.” 

Trelawney’s mouth flattens into a pitying line, and slender brows come down over Lily’s green eyes as your professor turns to you. “What do you see?” 

“It looks like there’s a shape in the smoke.” You squint a little, making a show of concentration. “I can’t quite make it out, but it looks like maybe…some sort of animal?” 

“Yes!” The older woman’s eyes light up. “Yes, it appears to be the crow! A bad omen.” You see Lily roll her eyes, and you pinch your lips shut to contain a smile. “Be cautious as you proceed through the week, children,” Trelawney says as you all start to grab your bags. “There are dreadful tidings on the wind!” 

“That is such bullocks,” Lily rants once you’re in the corridor, her bag slung over one shoulder. “How could you possibly see a shape in that mess? I didn’t see anything.” 

“Me neither,” you say smugly, grinning when she looks towards you, brows again descending over those fierce eyes of hers. “It’s Trelawney,” you laugh. “It’s not about what’s there, it’s about what she wants to be there. And she always wants shapes.” 

“My god.” Lily shakes her head. Her lips are pursed in that way they get when she’s trying not to smile. “You’re awful.” 

“Oh, come on.” You bump her hip with yours, the fabric of her skirt brushing your thigh. “You don’t take that class any more seriously than I do.” 

She rolls her eyes. “No, but I try to have some measure of—of integrity.” 

Your laugh comes out breathy with surprise. “Excuse me!” Lily smiles, and you take her by the arm, swinging the both of you around so her back is against the wall and your chest is a few inches from hers. “What are you trying to say about me, Evans?”

“Nothing,” she laughs, a faint blush rising to her freckled cheeks. “Only that some of us prefer to get top marks with our morals intact—” Your mouth falls open, incredulous, and she takes your face between her hands, kissing the tip of your nose with a cloying sweetness. “—and others—” She giggles as you chase her despite her hold on your face, nipping at her bottom lip. “—are more willing to compromise theirs.” 

You grin. “Generous of you to assume I had any to begin with.” 

“Oh, hush.” Lily kisses you one more time, soft and sweet, and uses the diversion of your weakening knees to slip from between you and the wall. “Come on, we’re going to be late for class.” 

You scoff but let her take your hand, pulling you down the now empty corridor. “I suppose I shouldn’t care, seeing as I’ve already compromised my morals.” 

“Mm, but I think you can be salvaged yet.” You know by your girlfriend’s grin what she’s going to say, and your nose wrinkles in anticipation. “I’m going to get higher marks than you anyway, love. There’s no need for these underhanded tactics.” 

Her smile widens when you narrow your eyes at her, squeezing her fingers between yours in challenge. “Oh, you’d like it if I gave up, wouldn’t you? Sorry, no luck this time. I’m going to beat your ass fair in square.” 

[avalynlestrange]

In My Head

Theodore Nott x Reader

Reader: She/Her Pronouns, no house mentioned

Warnings: None I don’t think? Please let me know if there is any I should put here. I haven’t proof read this so please kindly point out any grammar or spelling mistakes.

Category: One-Shot, Angst?, Fluff?, Songfic, Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n

Summary: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?

No sneak peaks 😋

Request: anon requested

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a few more daydreaming scenes but this felt like the right amount. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Word Count: >2k

To The Library (Main Masterlist)

To The Kitchen (WIPs)

To more Theodore Nott fics

To Maisie Peters Anthology

Heartbreak Saturday nights, you are in your bedroom twirling a quill in your hand. You tap it against your notebook. Instead of working on another paragraph of the dream diary Professor Trelawney has assigned, you fantasise about sweet things. Lately both nighttime and daytime dreaming were filled with scenarios of one Theodore Nott…

You were getting ready for the winter ball. Floor length gown sparkling and the colour picked to match Theodore’s tie and pocket square.

You put on every perfume. You make sure you smell like his bedroom when you were in it. It drove him crazy. You danced all evening and he never let goes of your hand. Oh how you wish it could on forever.

You stay in this scene all night…

His touch sends goosebumps all over you as he sways you to the music. Laughing and talking until the moon goes to bed. Not caring about the classes that will be missed that morning.

You sigh. This is all in your head so you continue to write last night’s dreams in your diary. Of course you don’t mention his name in the assignment. After all you were to share this with your class group in which Theodore was in so that you can discuss some interpretations. Your cheeks are red just thinking about what he would say if you mentioned they were about him.

“Darling I was dreaming of you all this time too.” He smiles and you gaze into each others eyes longingly. “Will you be mine?”

“Theodore, I’m yours.”

But this is all in your head.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

The next day was a Hogsmeade visit and you had plans at the three broomsticks with your friends for the evening. The sun was shining so you are wearing a cute frock. You imagine a moment in your pretend relationship timeline before you were his…

You are wearing the dress you wore when you met him and sent him spinning in the great hall during breakfast. He was on a date with another girl but caught up with the group afterwards. He doesn’t compliment you or pay any attention to you at all.

You see him send glances your way and you flirt with his friends. But it's a beggars revenge cause she's with him again. Theodore shakes his head towards the exit to and you try to look away.

He isn’t very patient and pulls you away outside. He leads you to

“Shouldn’t you be with your date?”

“I told her I couldn’t see her again. I want you.” He confesses.

“Theodore, I’m yours.”

But alas this is all in your head.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

The three broomsticks is stirring and brimming with students. A cover band fills the pub with their rendition of Weird Sister’s ‘Blood Sucker’. You find yourself bobbing your head to the music.

Glasses on your table are in need of refills and you offer to buy more. The bartender asks what you want as they reach for some stuff in the cupboard under the counter.

“I’ll have a…” A voice overlaps with yours. “Please can I…”

He apologises. “I didn’t see you there.”

You have the urge to pinch yourself because you can’t believe whose voice you are hearing.

He helps you bring the drinks over to your table and your friends fawn over the fact that your boyfriend is such a gentleman. Theodore has his hand in your thigh throughout the night.

And when it’s time to go home, the snow starts to fall like a fairy take. Your dress’ too nice for a jacket, so you’re freezing. Theodore notices you shiver. He takes off his coat and places it on your shoulders.

He’s walking past to the carriage and leads you inside. You sit next to him and on habit, you lean in on his shoulders as you journey back to the castle.

“Say that you’re mine again.” Theodore kisses your head.

“Theodore, I’m yours.”

But once again this is all in your head.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

The time for lunch is nearly over and you had divination next. It was your favourite subject - well only because you were sat next to your crush. The circumstance was a blessing and a curse. You tend to stumble over your words and not pick yourself back up, and sit in silence the rest of the lesson.

You take your seat and Professor Trelawney instructs you all to share your dreams and talk over possible meanings. Whilst Padma and Parvati gossip about the Yule Ball instead of the assignment across you, you notice that Theodore is squirming in his seat more than usual.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, and you desperately want to reach for his hand as he is so close to touch. He is like a magnet and your fingers draw closer until they are on his. He shifts in his seat slightly cause you to move your hand to your lap. “I’m sorry. You just look a little upset.”

“No it’s okay. I just can’t stop thinking about my dreams.” He grasps his dream journal tightly.

“Why don’t you share and we can unpick it together?” His ears turn a shade of red at your suggestion, but he doesn’t say no.

“There’s this girl. She keeps popping in my dreams. We’re always together in each one.” He fiddles with the corner of the diary cover and when you catch his eye, he quickly looks away. “Sometimes we’re not dating and I get tongue tied about asking her out but mostly we seem happy.”

In the corner of your eye, you see the Patil twins turning their heads towards Theodore.

“This girl must be very important to you. Are you together in real life?” Padma asks as she rests her chin on her arms. Parvati leans in.

‘Please say no’ You plead with your eyes. You feel like half of you is missing but there's no hope. Even if he says no, this girl is literally the girl of his dreams.

“No. I-“

“But you clearly want to be if you’re dreaming about her this much.” States Parvati. Her sister nods in agreement.

He picks at the strands of his quill. “I do but-.”

“You should ask her to the ball!” The girls giggle. “Yes that would be so adorable!”

“But I don’t know if she feels the same way.” A crushing weight is in your chest as you hear him say these words. That is one lucky girl.

“I think she’ll be lucky to be asked out by you.” You hear yourself say aloud.

Theodore’s head sharply looks up to stare at you. His cheeks matches his pink ears.

“You think so?” He smiles. You melt under his gaze.

“What about you? Tell us about what you’ve been dreaming about.” Padma taps your notebook.

“I’ve been having similar dreams I guess.” You mumble.

“Say that again?”

“There’s this one guy who’s been appearing every night.” You glance and take in a view of a frowning Theodore.

“Sounds like you need to fess up to your dream person too.”

And when you don’t elaborate, the sisters go back to their whispers about their gowns and dates. The remaining minutes of the lesson compromised of scribbles and a huffing Theodore.

You want to pour out your emotions. Scream at him, ‘I’m hurting and I’m here. You’re still not looking at me. I’m real and I’m yours for the taking.’

He, however, is occupied with writing and frowning. You conclude that he must be deeply in love with his dream girl so as you look out the window…

At the end of the class, you were the last one out. You had a question for Professor Trewlaney and now you are walking out of the divination classroom.

Theodore stops you at the door frame.

“Walk you to the next class?” He asks and takes your bag off of you.

“Oh thank you.”

There was an uncomfortable silence shared between you. Both of you itching to find out who was in the other’s dream. Theodore calls you to stop and you do.

“Don’t go for him.” The tips of your shoes touch as he steps toward you.

“What do you mean?” You look up. His face merely inches away from yours.

“Forget the guy in your dreams and be with me.”

By his collar, you pull him for a kiss and call him an adorable idiot.

“Theodore, I’m yours.”

“Hey!” A voice snaps you out of your daydreaming.

“Hey Theo.” He smiles at the nickname.

“Walk you to the next class?”

All you could do was nod as your lips seems to be sealed shut.

Unlike your dreaming, the silence was comfortable. It was the air that jolted you ensuring you that this isn’t a dream. Is it?

“Would you meet me at the clock courtyard after dinner?”

Nothing looks or sounds strange. However, this can’t be real. Your lips are still stuck and can’t reply.

Theo stops in his tracks. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I under-“

“I’ll meet you there.” You turn your head so he doesn’t see your pink cheeks.

Is this all in your head?

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

What did Theodore want from you? You frown in front of the mirror. Have your delusions gotten the best of you that you’re meeting him tonight?

You pat the creases of your dress. If you were going to meet him and he was really there then you might as well put on an outfit that you see yourself in every fantasy. You tell yourself that you should know better but you can’t forget how things were in your head and if this was a vivid dream you’ll take what you can get.

And he’s there. The moonlight shining on his form. Theodore stands when he sees you. There isn’t many students around. He stands by the fountains and you sit on the ledge.

Water splashes you slightly making you jump. He immediately takes off his coat and puts it around you. A gentlemen in real life too. You thank him and the pair of you stare upwards to the sky.

“You wore that dress when I first got the chance to talk to properly. It was first year and you were sitting on this spot with your friends.”

You can’t bear to look at him fearing he’ll disappear within seconds.

“The wind was blowing in your hair. I wished I could talk to you the previous night.” He chuckles at the memory. “I actually threw a sickle in this fountain. I read about it in a muggle book once. That day you dropped something out of your bag on the way in and I thanked Merlin for granting my wish.”

Your eyes widen and you start playing with a loose thread on this coat.

“Too bad that was the only time I got the courage to talk to you outside class. I wasn’t sure if you liked me enough to be my friend. You never spoke to me except for classes.”

His gaze burns your face. Hot red.

“But I watched you everyday. You were always away with the fairies, grinning at yourself and laughing when your friends caught you.”

You gather enough courage to look his way. Eyes piercing through you and the arrow hits your heart.

“Listen. I don’t know who this guy is in your dreams but I want you to know you are the one in mine. It’s torture and a pleasure to have you in my head but I want you to know that I want you to be mine in real life.”

You fish out a sickle out of your pocket. One you were going to use incase he didn’t come to your meeting.

“I guess I won’t be needing this.”

Theodore takes it out of your palm and tosses it into the fountain. He cups your cheeks and leans his forehead against yours. You couldn’t wait any longer and you press your lips to his. You feel complete. When you both pull away to check the other still exists, you breathlessly whisper,

“Theodore, I’m yours.”

You hold his hand in yours and for once it’s not in your head.

[holmesillustrations]

Vote for your favourite, the top 9 will proceed in the bracket. Since theyre all different shapes and sizes, make sure to click into the full views!

Paget Eliminations

Other Artist Eliminations

Full captions and details for each illustration below the cut:

All Sidney Paget illustrations are for the Strand Jul 1891 - Dec 1904

"Sherlock Holmes welcomed her." Case of Identity Characters: Holmes, Page, Mary Sutherland

"The pipe was still between his lips." Twisted Lip Characters: Holmes

"Lord Robert St. Simon" Noble Bachelor Characters: Lord St Simon

"Holmes was extremely pleased." Silver Blaze Characters: Watson, Holmes, Insp Gregory, Col Ross, stablehand

"The chaplain stood with a smoking pistol in his hand." Gloria Scott Characters: Chaplain, Captain of GS, Prendergast

"Mycroft Holmes" Greek Interpreter Characters: Mycroft

"A small square of paper fluttered down." Final Problem Characters: Watson

"Over the rocks was thrust out an evil yellow face." Hound of the Baskervilles Characters: Sir Henry, Watson, Selden

"Be ready in half an hour." Hound of the Baskervilles Characters: Holmes, Watson

"Then what is the theory in your mind?" Priory School Characters: Holmes, Watson, Dr Huxtable

"With his neck craned, he looked into the room." Three Students Characters: Watson, Hilton Soames, Watson

"The Premier sprang to his feet." Second Stain Characters: Holmes, Watson, Trelawney Hope, Lord Bellinger

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 17 - Prompt: Embrace @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 595 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

As they approached the psychic’s impromptu tent, Lily’s curiosity turned wary. The pricing written on a chalkboard propped against a stump was smeared and had obviously been rewritten a few times. £45 for a half-hour reading was rather steep, in her opinion.

Pandora was entirely unfazed. She strode through the tapestries without hesitation. “Madame Trelawney?”

Lily followed her, curiously eyeing everything inside the stall and attempting to embrace her former commitment to open-mindedness again. There was a small square table and four stools in the centre with baskets of crystals, candles, and anything that could be printed with constellations on it stacked on a table nearby. A rack of keychains announcing, “My psychic knows more than you,” “I know I’m psychic, my shirt says medium,” and “It’s not in the stars, it’s in your head” stood near the doorway.

“Welcome ladies! So good of you to stop by,” a willowy woman greeted her as she lifted from her stool. She reached for Pandora, then gasped when her gaze caught on Lily. “Oh! You’ve found your cardinal, I see.”

Pandora froze. When the young woman with thick glasses nodded toward Lily, Pandora’s head whipped around. “My card-cardinal?”

“Yes, yes! You must be so pleased!” The woman looked up and beamed at Lily. “And you!”

Lily was startled by the sudden shout and jumped back. “Who, me?”

Madame Trelawney rushed forward and clasped her hands around one of Lily’s. “You’ve never had a reading, have you? I'm your first!”

“Oh, I suppose so.”

Pandora quickly rearranged her expression as she perused the crystal basket with her hands tucked behind her back. Her fingers twitched and twisted together anxiously.

“Come, come. Sit with me,” Madame Trelawney said, tugging Lily forward. “Now, would you like a one card reading or a full reading?”

“One card,” Lily decided.

Madame Trelawney handed her a thick stack of cards. “As you shuffle the deck, think about the question or problem you wish to resolve. Then, cut the deck and stack it however feels right.”

Lily did as she was told while repeating, “Is London meant to be?” in her mind. She tried to clear her thoughts and focus solely on London: the busy streets filled with voices and traffic, bright lights and air thick with possibility, and the intense pull to the city that blossomed into a full blown obsession the last few months. The occasional dreams she’d had of exploring Leicester Square with…someone.

The figure was never fully formed in those dreams. It was always a soft hand in hers and a sense of belonging that she chased every morning after. Lily had never felt the need to have a partner before now, only a vague wistfulness that it would be nice.

She set the deck in the centre of the table and looked up at Madame Trelawney expectantly. The psychic tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips as she studied the tidy pile of cards. Second-guessing herself, Lily reached out and spread the deck into a fan shape.

“Ah! There we are,” Trelawney said, clapping once. “Now, pull whichever card appeals to you.”

Lily was tempted to pick up the top card out of spite, but decided to play along for Pandora’s sake. This was important to her and Lily would be damned if she slipped up again. She held out her hand and closed her eyes. After a few slow passes over the cards, she pointed to one at random. When she opened her eyes, the psychic was grinning like a well-fed cat.

“Turn it over.”

[missmeltycat]

Upon A Foggy Day

A Остров сокровищ | Return to Treasure Island (1988) fic!

A particularly saccharine oneshotty songfic based after many days at sea in fog.

Rating: Everyone

BE WARNED - It's nauseatingly sweet and cheesy! Song credit: For the Dancing and the Dreaming by Craig Ferguson

Fic below or in the link!

The voyage had been long and arduous, and the crew was having a ‘down day’. The last 5 days had all been at sea, attempting to gain their bearings due to an odd sort of fog that had settled all around them. Many of the sailors were superstitious and were blaming Rae Taylor for the streak of bad luck.

It had only been a few weeks since it had been revealed that she was a woman and not the round-bottomed male deckhand that she had been posing as. Many saw it as an insult, even Captain Smollett, who had accused her of being a stowaway, but it had been Livesey who had stepped in to explain that she had indeed signed up for the voyage fair and square.

It was also Livesey who had been the only one who had known her secret all along and, being the man that he was, he had kept it a secret for her benefit. It had only been due to an injury that she had been forced to reveal all.

The crew saw her presence as being a curse on them, as women aboard were still often considered unlucky by many an old seadog. No amount of trying to explain that it had only been recently they hit the mysterious fog bank and that it had been fine up to that point with her on board would convince them otherwise and Livesey, Trelawney and Jim had decided to just leave it be. Smollett, on the other hand, would intervene should it have any effect on work being done, so that was a small mercy.

The fog had slowly lifted through the course of the day and all it revealed was more ocean. The waves were calm, but there was a sort of electricity in the air.

Rae assumed it was a potential storm on the way and kept her eyes on the horizon for the red sails of the Sanguine. It was her turn on watch duty on deck, so she had made her way to the bow of the ship and leaned against the wooden balustrade humming to herself to keep her brain occupied. It was an old tune that she had picked up many years ago and it had entered her head by complete surprise. As she absentmindedly scanned the horizon for the pirate threat, she slowly mumbled the words to herself…

"I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life…”

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her and the distinctive chuckle of the good Doctor. “Ohhh, I know that one.” Livesey instantly started singing along in his own way, each line punctuated with a small fit of giggles.

“No scorching sun nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey…”

Rae turned her head with a smile. She had not heard him sing often, so it was a very nice change. There was something about the enthusiasm in his words that made her join him in a very spontaneous and impromptu duet.

“If you will promise me your heart

And love me for eternity”

But what Rae though would just be a simple case of a short sing along became something else entirely, as Livesey reached out a hand. She took it, spurred on by curiosity and was instantly whipped into a jig to accompany the song. It was not at all her forte, but it was a well needed and appreciated bit of entertainment after a dull few days in foggy conditions.

After letting out a small yelp of surprise, she continued with her part of the duet. After all, it was all in good fun, right? She wanted to be a good sport at least.

“My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need for mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me.”

To her surprise, he spun her so that her arms were crossed in front of her and drew her back-first into his broad chest as she sang the last line, his arms curled around her tightly, before spinning her back out again.

“But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me.”

By that point, Trelawney, Smollett and Jim were all watching from the door of the captain’s cabin with curiosity. A rare bit of lively dance and song was too much to pass up. Though, Smollett was sulking that Rae was shirking her duties by doing so, but Trelawney was quick to provide an elbow to the ribs to silence him on the matter.

Jim was about to run over and join in, but it was then that he got a strange feeling sweep over him as he watched the two interact and so he stopped himself.

Rae laughed happily. This certainly beat watch duty.

“I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry…”

Livesey and Rae linked arms and stepped first in one direction, then the other in unison.

“I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me.”

He swung her around and took hold of her hand, bringing them in to his chest and back out again in an extravagant stepping motion.

“To love and kiss to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows

And delights...”

The smile that had formed on Rae’s face almost made her cheeks ache with the strain as she was flung around in a tight spin once again. Finally released against his hip, where the pair swayed, hands linked, Rae couldn’t resist the smirk she offered him.

“I'll keep your laugh inside me…”

The meaning was not lost on the Doctor and his huge grin merely widened in a way that almost seemed to split his face in two.

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas…

He spun her once more, pulled her in and dipped her to finish the dance and song.

“With ne’er a fear of drowning…”

But the finish was more hushed and not at all what each had expected.

“I'd gladly ride the waves of life…”

Their faces each burned bright red, the heat almost palpable and Livesey delivered the final line, his smile fading into a look of anxiety.

“If you will marry me…”

There was a silence that fell as the pair were almost frozen in place, Rae dipped and Livesey’s face inches from hers, each wearing an expression as if they had each seen a ghost, their cheeks redder than the blood of beets.

Then, almost as quickly as it had happened, the pair had righted themselves, dusted themselves off and went about clearing their throats in an attempt to brush off the strange feeling that they seemed to share.

“Oh! Oh I say! Is it that time already?” Livesey had fished his pocket watch from his inner jacket pocket and was scanning the face with interest. He didn’t care what time it was. Not one jot! But the face of the watch seemed a lot easier to look at that it was to look Rae in the eye.

“Y-Yes!” Rae had no idea what time it was. “I… Should probably get back to my watch!”

He tugged on his collar and cleared his throat with a shaky laugh. “Yes! Yes quite!”

“Yes! Mmm!” Rae turned on her feet and slammed herself against the balustrade once again to try and watch the horizon again.

Livesey turned in one swift motion and began striding his way back slowly to the Captain’s quarters.

The pair slowly turned their heads for a sneaky look back at each other, made eye contact and turned even redder.

By that point, Trelawney had dragged Jim and Smollett inside the cabin to try and give Livesey and Rae some space and was eagerly awaiting his friend’s return. He didn’t have to wait long, as Livesey had widened his strides to get to his destination faster, lest he combust on the spot.

When he entered the room, his face was red, sweaty and his breaths ragged. It was an almost alien sight on the usually calm, composed and collected Doctor and Jim piped up. “Are you OK, Doctor?”

Trelawney grinned knowingly as the large man reached into his coat for his handkerchief, mopped his brow and attempted to put on his best smile as a cover. “What’s that, Jim my boy? Oh! Y-Yes!” He waved a hand to try and fan away some of the heat from his cheeks with a chuckle. “It’s just a little, um… Warm out there.”

Smollett tapped his foot and shook his head as he caught sight of Trelawney’s meddling smirk.

“It most certainly looked warm.”

Livesey didn't look any of them in the eye, he couldn't. He simply took a seat, rested his chin on his palm and heaved a sigh. "I blame the fog entirely."

[thedoctorlivesey]

So there's a lot of monster/evil Livesey fanart out there - why no evil Jim, Silver, Trelawney, etc? (This is also an invitation for artists to respond to your response with theirs if they have any.)

Ahahaha oh indeed! I do enjoy how free and creative some people can be with my humble form. But I agree that it would be most amusing and enjoyable to see our dear Trelawney and grumpy little square Captain in such a fashion.

Though, I am unsure about young Jim. I fear he may be too pure for such a thing.

[seriouslysnape]

Ooh ok here’s a little blurb idea ok so how about there’s a yoga class and it’s an only girls allowed (except Neville cause he genuinely wanted to join and he tried to get the other guys to join but they said no) anyways one day Harry and Ron (or whoever lol) glance in the classroom and see what’s happening and they wanna get a closer look (LMAO more like they wanna see some ass😀) soon the other guys take notice and try to sneak in and Thats when the reader comes in late and catches them in the act lol you go from there or edit it however you’d like haha

“What is he doing?” Ron whispered harshly to Harry, who’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

The two Gryffindors stared in amazement at their friend who was currently contorted in a way that they were sure wasn’t physically possible. 

“Is this...what he was talking about?” Harry asked, referring to how Neville had all but BEGGED them to join him for ‘yoga sessions’.

Professor Trelawney was an eccentric kind of person. She believed in all kinds of things that most people would roll their eyes at. One of them was the practice of yoga and what it could do for the human body. It was very much a Muggle activity, but she had done it enough to lead her own once weekly yoga class. It wasn’t so much a “class” per se, since anyone could join at anytime. 

Trelawney held her one hour yoga sessions on Tuesdays at 4:00, directly after the last class of the day. The class was designed for the young witches of Hogwarts, since Trelawney was sure that none of the budding wizards would want to join. 

All except for one.

Neville was all about trying new things that weren’t dangerous or would better himself, so after some convincing, he managed to weasel his way into the weekly sessions. And surprisingly, Neville was extremely coordinated when it came to yoga. Not to mention, it cleared his mind in the best of ways.

Ron’s head cocked to the side as he tried to comprehend the current position that Neville (as well as the rest of the girls were in).

“How does his leg fold like that?” Ron hissed, his eyes wide with astonishment, “His knee is almost touching his head!”

Harry was blushing madly from staring into the room full of girls (and Neville), and seeing them all move in such...graceful ways. Harry felt like this was a major invasion of privacy, considering that Neville was the only boy cleared to be doing this.

“Ron, I really don’t think we should be watchi-”

“Bloody hell!” Ron suddenly exclaimed, his nose almost completely pressed against the glass, “Now I know why that little slug wanted us to do this so badly!”

Everyone in the room had transitioned into a cow pose, and Ron was damn near drooling all over himself. His hand flew out to the side, smacking Harry in the chest. 

“We’ve got to get in there.” Ron persisted to his best friend.

Harry’s eyes grew into saucers, his pupils dilating and his cheeks reddening deeper at the mere thought of what Ron was insinuating.

“No way. That’s insane!” Harry argued, “Neville is the only one allowed in!”

“Oh, come on. You really think we can’t sneak our way in?” Ron questioned, turning to look at Harry.

“We’re not going to interrupt a girls only class just because you’re desperate to snog someone!” Harry bantered, his voice determined...yet intimidated.

Ron knew Harry well, and he knew just how to get him to give in...even if it meant selling off his own flesh and blood.

“Look! I think I see Ginny.” Ron smirked casually, returning his gaze to the window.

Harry’s face brightened in a way that was the equivalent to a puppy being told that it’s time to go for a walk. Harry shoved Ron out of the way, staring through the small square window to see the red-headed girl in the sea of girls. Harry felt guilty, but now he didn’t feel so bad about trying to sneak in.

“Fine. But just this once!” Harry demanded.

Ron did a silent cheer of victory, but before either of them could devise a plan, their intentions were disrupted.

“Hi, boys!” You greeted, slightly breathless from jogging all the way there, “What are you two doing?”

Ron and Harry went rigid at being caught, their eyes flickering to each other and then back to you.

“Uh...nothing. What are you doing?” Ron returned.

You chuckled softly, tucking your rolled silicone yoga mat snugly underneath your arm. You hadn’t caught their “deer in headlights” looks yet, but they knew they had definitely been caught doing something they shouldn’t have been.

“Yoga class. I’m running late,” You explained, peering through the window to see how much you had missed, “Wow. Neville really is something else. Who knew he’d be so competent when it came to this.”

Harry laughed nervously, his eyes barely being able to focus on you. Your tight leggings and snug tank top was almost too much for him to handle.

“Yeah. Competent.” Harry echoed, trying not to completely melt into a puddle right then and there.

“You know, we were all skeptical when he wanted to join. Thought that maybe he just wanted to gawk over us,” You went on, “But he genuinely just enjoys it!”

Ron and Harry were both blushing now, their eyes still wide and bodies tense.

“Right! Well, we really should be going,” Harry squeaked again, “I think I’m going to study for Potions.”

“And I’m going to...take a shower.” Ron mumbled, both of them scurrying away before you could even get in another word.

You watched them disappear down the hall, an incredulous snort vibrating out of your throat as you turned the handle to join the session.

“Perverts.”

[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[sweet-by-and-by]

Darkness- RarePair Week Day 3

summary: Josiah and Arthur run into some trouble on a night out in Saint Denis- but they always have each other to help pick themselves back up. pairing: Arthur Morgan x Josiah Trelawny warnings: period typical homophobia, violence, blood/injury reference, hurt/comfort a/n: Thank you to @foundynnel for the inspiring test shots! The mod king is serving us all in this incredible Rarepair week. In my brainstorming notes for this week I wrote “Morlawny can get it but I’m afraid to write them”, so hopefully you enjoy this despite the sads! Check out the rest of the Rarepair week happening until Friday! (And beyond if I’m anything like I was with Sadithur week)

The soft glow of the lanterns cast harsh shadows on Trelawny’s face.

That’s what Arthur chose to focus on. The shadows masked the forming bruises and the blood clotting over wounds, letting him pick what injuries to give attention to.

He rest his hand against Josiah’s cheek, grimacing at the wince his touch pulled from the man. He grabbed the pocket square from his suit, dabbing at the blood still seeping from the cuts and scrapes.

“Josiah,” he whispered, afraid to speak any louder. It was their volume that got them into this mess in the first place, the drunken stumbling through the streets of Saint Denis and the quiet whimpers he couldn’t suppress.

Stupid, he thought to himself. Why do you always have to be so god damn stupid?

This night was supposed to be special. Arthur’s first “day off” since the nonsense that drove them from Clemen’s Point. Between Bronte and the Braithwaites, they hadn’t had time to stop since fleeing into the swamps.

He couldn’t deny his lover of his excitement at the comforts of Saint Denis. Even if the place made Arthur feel sick to his stomach, more riddled with snakes and vile creatures than the horrible swamps that surrounded it. But Trelawny loved the city, and Arthur could tolerate one more night in his own hell just to see the man smile.

They kept the evening short, not wanting to attract any attention after their mess with Bronte. Dinner and a show, full of secret touches and quiet gasps in the dark theatre. Trelawny couldn’t seem to help himself, hands wandering over Arthur’s broad shoulders and tailored waist in his tailcoat.

But they must not have been so subtle, their caution forgotten with drink and the illusion of privacy that the dark provides. After exiting the theatre, both were quickly dragged into the alleyway and blindsided by a cluster of drunken, enraged men. They kicked and punched until they grew bored, throwing insults with each hit. Left the two men in broken heaps of swollen bruises and battered bones, but thankfully still alive.

“Arthur, my boy,” Josiah replied, bolder in his volume. His usual lilt was forced, the thick sound of blood in his throat giving away his guise, “not quite how I thought this evening would go.”

Arthur’s frown deepened, the heavy set of his brow creasing long lines on his forehead. He gave no response, carefully tilting Trelawny’s head forward to press against his own. Josiah flinched back, driven by pain and fearful instinct.

Dropping his hand immediately, Arthur stepped away. His body ached in protest, sore muscles complaining from the harsh movements. It had been a good while since he had been jumped, caught off guard in his inebriated state. Though he fared much better than Josiah in terms of defense.

“We should go,” Arthur said stiffly, passing his bloodied pocket square off to Josiah. “Take this, your nose is bleedin’.”

Josiah nodded in thanks, taking the kerchief from Arthur and lifting it up to his nose. The two men walked back towards the theatre, Trelawney limping heavily. His overcoat had been lost in the scuffle, leaving him disheveled and battered as his bloodied hair hung in his face. The sight made Arthur's stomach turn, the sharp contrast to his usual state an unwelcome reminder of how dangerous life was for men of their kind.

Arthur swallowed thickly as they entered the busy street, hoping desperately not to draw more unwanted attention to themselves.

--

They made their way back to camp late into the night, their initial plans of spending the evening in the city feeling senseless after the events. The ride was slow, with thoughts running rampant as Arthur watched Trelawny suffer on horseback.

The moon hung high in the sky as they broke through the trees, the decrepit sight of Shady Belle welcoming them back to safety. Arthur felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders with their return to camp, assured that no more harm would come to them for now.

He quickly dismounted and rushed to Josiah’s side, helping him loosen his feet from the stirrups and slide out of the saddle. He threw the man’s arm over his own shoulder to support his weight, not giving Josiah a chance to turn away his help. Together, they crossed the wooden bridge and moved towards the house. Josiah looked up questioningly at Arthur, glancing towards his bedroll amongst the men. Arthur shook his head in response, resisting the urge to just pick Josiah up and carry him up the stairs.

Instead, he let him struggle. Forced his expression to stay neutral at each hiss of pain. Josiah needed his pride, and Arthur would do whatever he could to let the man have it.

Managing their way up the stairs, they took solace in Arthur’s room. Arthur freed himself of Trelawny’s weight, letting him stand on his own. He hated the way he swayed on his feet, fighting off pain to keep himself upright.

They undressed wordlessly, leaving their clothes in a pile to be dealt with tomorrow. Arthur helped Josiah down on the bed, checking him over in the soft light of his room. The glow covered the worst of the damages here too, the worst to be revealed come morning. He maintained his silence as Josiah rest his head on the pillow, stretching out on Arthur’s cot and sighing contently.

The canvas dipped as Arthur joined him, carefully placing an arm over his waist. The weight of Josiah pressed against his front brought him comfort, assurance that they were still here came with every sharp inhale. Tomorrow they could deal with cracked bones and mottled bruises. Tonight, Arthur pressed a kiss to Josiah’s head and whispered “I love you”s, letting sleep take them to faraway places of sandy beaches and forgiveness.

[ace-t-fic]

Riverside Gryff’s

Phone fanifc be warned no grammar (I made the greaser au + plus any complaints about lily’s writing are based heavily off she was written I just added more on having a sister like petunia to it.)

The ear-piercing sound of glass shattering dulled in comparison to the loud chatter and Music, and that filled the room. But the workers heard it with a heavy sigh as one marked down another tally mark. That's the fifth one; it's only three days into the week. These kids brought in good business but Minerva thinks they’ll run her dry with all the replacements she has to order.

“I’m headed out!” Diana rushed tapping Severus on the shoulder. He only bid her half-assed goodbye before he finished tying up his apron. She was an elderly woman that handled the hard coffee crowd in the morning. By the time Severus clocked in half of the morning/afternoon crowd was beginning to rush out. They were replaced by the younger staff who could handle their own crowd— teenagers.

If there's one thing besides the teenagers, they hated about this place; it was working the floor. Sure the girls loved it and reveled in being next to the many teen sleazeballs that frequented it, but Severus did not. Weasley also downright hated it; the Spinner's End kids had no qualms about throwing him the harshest of nicknames. ‘Fire Crotch’ was a favorite of Severus'.

But Severus hated working the floor whenever any of the jocks down from the riverside visited. Especially when A bunch of spoiled jocks who thought they were thugs came in. Riverside Gryff’s etched across their backs on black leather. All they did was change from their letterman jackets on the way over. They never did anything but bully and abuse lesser people than them. On the other hand, Severus knew true thugs that would stab you in the gut for anything.

"Whatcha thinking in that pretty little head there?"

"All the self-defense moves my mother taught me to ward off men like you." He stated boardely before grabbing at his notepad "What will it be, Potter."

"The in-between Sundae."

"The hell is that? Severus said before reaching under the counter to grab a hold of one of the menus. "We don't have that here."

"Sure you do" James started, a sultry smile gracing his lips as he leant halfway over the counter."Just give me a bottle of whipped cream and spread ya legs-"

"You never know when to shut up, give up and move on," Severus hissed. Briefly eyeing the patron over giving them disapproving looks.

"Of course I don't. I've seen you in my leather jacket."He smirked, leaning closer on the bar." and out of it."

"Excuse me!" Snipped a customer causing Severus to jump-start and remember he's at work, hitting customers is not in the business model.

God, he really hated life sometimes, more so when he took into account that lily was probably the worst friend he's ever picked up. Realistically she roped him into more trouble than his short run with Lucius. She was his best friend but they all were too fucked in their childhoods in too many ways.

They met in church, and he lived on to see her try as hard as possible to shake the notion that she was square. She wanted to rock and sing blues in midnight clubs. Ask Severus, and he'd tell you he had always thought she was jealous of his sister in that way. Petunia, as much as a devil, still managed to garner her family's love while she was sneaking out from the back porch with a cigarette in her pocket and Vernon waiting in a cab a couple of blocks down. At one point she had roped Lily into being her secret keeper.

Lily always folded under pressure and being a square for the rest of her life crisped the edges. So much so that she got involved with the crowds at the riverside. Severus would've never seen it coming with their separate schools and incomes between them. That was until he started shadowing her in town and movie theaters. They went to a dollar movie that day. Abbott and Costello and Severus stood there awkwardly with three other girls who called em'selves goldies. They got into their seats, and it was fine but it seemed like they were making a fuss over nothing and throwing popcorn around. They kept glancing to the side of them and that was when he had noticed a group of three dudes sitting a couple of seats down and to the side.

It got to the point where it was irking Severus just enough for him to take a glance at what exactly put the girls in a frenzy. Got his answer as an equally irked Potter rolled his head up to glance in their direction. He had remembered him of course, preacher's son and an asshole that spent Sunday school telling Severus that since he was a bastard he'd be going to hell. Now he's a thug that keeps staring even as Severus turns his head coming to terms with not getting to watch the movie.

Even when it had finished and Severus retreated to the bathroom to wash his hands an amused James slid past him with a mumbled apology. It got even worse from there when he got his slug from a neighbor who passed and was the designated driver. Finally, it ended with a bonfire on the lake. Lily had gotten ahead of herself in strip poker and Severus was there with his shirt to save her when she went prancing along the lake. The night ended with both of them soaked and a little worse for wear.

Once the hysteria passed and lights in the lodge filled with the teens, Severus had sat on the pier miserable. James plopped beside him and his jacket heavy on his shoulder now that he was shirtless. The whole thing was weird, the atmosphere changing and stretching uncomfortably whenever they were in the same Vicinity together. Didn't stop Severus from leading him back to his car, though. When Lily had found them a few drunken words and curses later Severus had tried his hardest to drag her home. A moment later they were both found in a tree.

Severus is a little irritated to wake up and find the preacher looming over his hospital bed in prayer with his mother. A letterman jacket sitting on the seat beside him.

"How's Lilly darling," Trelawney asked, fumbling with the register.

"She's good, doing much better in the silent towns. Reckons she'll visit for the summer."

"Oh, sweet girl. Shame that DUI, these gangs they got themselves into, gold ladies and whatnot. In my day I would've been dealt with, with! a wooden spoon. "She chattered grabbing a few bills before jampacking the drawer closed." You be careful with these lot, charming boys aren't passaged to paradise." Before making her way back to the table she was servicing.

"Full of shit, that one." He heard a voice mumble near him. "Untouched and a nail-biter." Severus’s hands clenched to hide his nails before glaring at the curly-haired boy.

"Oh come on, I'm not talking about you."

"Then why make observations pertaining to me." Severus seethed, abruptly reopening the register. "Well, it's adorable when you do it-"

"Piss off," He said before going back down the bar.

His night only got worse as 4 more glasses were broken and a fight broke out. A drink knocked over and a wet shirt later with stains on his jeans had him reeling for a day off. And when clean up was said and done Minerva locked up the gates and he saw Arthur off on the bus he waited under his spotlight.

"Your shirt is a little wet there, need a change?"

[scromgold-is-gay]

Fruitbasket 💕💕💕💖💖💖✨✨✨

A collection of fruitbaskets 💖💖💖

[majesticnerdyvee]

*during Divination class*

Jim: I don't get it, it's just numbers. it's like Arithmancy with extra steps

John: yeah, all those weird squares... it's like sudoku

*Trelawney senses a shift in the Force*

John:... why do I hear boss music?

[secretpersona8]

It starts with a bar of Fry's Turkish Delight, a stick-and-poke tattoo in the Prefects' bathroom, and a sucker punch to the head. Along the way, Regulus Black loses himself, finds a Horcrux (or five), and stumbles onto the right path.

Or: Pandora Lovegood was born Pandora Trelawney. When her inconvenient magical gift puts her squarely in Regulus Black's path, an unlikely friendship blossoms. The consequences echo past their final year at Hogwarts and shape the course of the First Wizarding War.

This fic is a slow-burn romance that will span Regulus and Pandora's seventh year at Hogwarts and follow them on opposing sides of the war. It is complete (approx. 30 chapters and 160k words). Chapters will be posted weekly. There will be a happy ending and zero major character deaths.

Read on AO3!