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doctorbrown · 5 months

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Emmett's face noticeably brightens upon the Doctor's renewed interest in the DeLorean; while he'd been extremely excited the night of the first temporal experiment to unveil his greatest invention to Marty—who responded with the appropriate amount of shock and awe, unfortunate circumstance to follow notwithstanding—this was different.

Explaining it to Marty, who'd grasped only certain concepts at face-value and cared little for the true science behind it, would not be like breaking it down for the Doctor, a fellow time-traveller and scientist.

There's an almost childish glee in Emmett's eyes as he thinks about where to start, how to explain the DeLorean's existence from conception to creation across thirty painstakingly long years. There were moments where, as doubt began to creep in and the technology simply wasn't advanced enough to accomplish what he needed done, he'd tossed around the word impossible, frustrated by the slow progress.

❝Yes, well, getting here was no simple feat, of that I can assure you!❞

But it had all been worth it, from the exhaustion of the funds left for him to the breakthroughs in science he'd made.

With absolutely no reservations weighing down on his shoulders, the possibility is endless.

He regards the DeLorean with a sense of unwavering pride, as one might do with their own child, and returns the Doctor's grin with a degree of brilliance and enthusiasm to match.

❝As for what it runs on, I needed different power sources to power the various components of the car. Most of it is electrical, wired into the DeLorean's already existing system, with heavy modifications to the computers and power output, of course.❞

Emmett opens the passenger door to the satisfying sound of the hydraulics and leans inside, inviting the Doctor to do the same all while gesturing at the various instruments clustered around the cabin.

❝At its core, the vehicle still operates exactly as originally intended. If the time circuits aren't activated, the internal combustion engine runs on ordinary unleaded gasoline, available at any gas station around. Temporal displacement is achieved at eighty-eight miles per hour. Much of the equipment had to be altered or custom made.❞

With the way everything is wired and packed into the car, it's very obvious none of this came stock.

Emmett gestures behind the front seats to the box mounted securely in the centre of the cabin wall; the key to this entire project. ❝The time circuits and the flux capacitor, however, required much more power in order to open the wormhole through the space-time continuum. With that kind of power being impossible to achieve through normal means, and believe me, I have tried just about everything you could think of, it became clear that the power I needed could only come about through a nuclear reaction.❞

He presses his lips together in thought. ❝As it is, I'm still working on improving that aspect of the car; it must be recharged after every jump through time, but there's no limit to how far forward or back I can go.❞

@timedten, cont.

#when i said he was going to be so fucking excited i meant it i'm sorry i wrote so damn much hnnnnnn #i simply could NOT wait to throw these two nerds together fjakls;;djlf #when you DO show him the tardis doctor expect a million and one questions - him to possibly almost pass out from excitement #and very genuine enthusiasm #doc vc: how the hell did you make it so it's bigger on the inside? is this some kind of pocket dimension??#also doc - you wouldn't believe what a challenge itw as to get all the time machine components to fit in this small cabin #timedten #&; i‚ doctor emmett l. brown... 「 ic 」#&; can't keep a good scientist down 「 v. * 1985 」#we're just gonna say this is before the hover conversion and the cold fusion because i can and i am so damn attached to the delorean's #first iteration it's not even funny - not that mr fusion isn't SUPER cool and god do i love the hover conversion but #the og nuclear reactor my beloved

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vipetas · 1 month

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i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered.

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #part 2?

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astonmartinii · 11 months

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Hi, love your work. Could you please write a Lando Norris x engineer!reader thank you 🥰

team bonding | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x engineer!reader

people start to notice the chemistry between lando and his race engineer

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 11,067 others

tagged: yourbff

yourusername: life between races ✨

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lilaclando part time race enginner full time mother

landonorris so where was my karaoke invite?

yourusername you'd really come all the way from monaco to do karaoke with my uni friends ???

landonorris duh

mclarenlover he's so in love you can't tell me otherwise

oscarpiastri the real question is what song did you sing?

yourusername man i feel like a women obviously

oscarpiastri taste as always

landonorris

liked by yourusername, estebanocon and 601,843 others

landonorris: what happens at the monaco after party stays at the monaco after party

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babynorris i did not know lando was friends with mick and este but i am living for this

estebanocon the best nights are the ones you don't remember

mickschumacher where is dj lando?

lando4ever are we all just collectively ignoring the girl in the last slide?

leclerc16x call me delusional but that looks like his race engineer

landonorizzzzz ur delusional (i hope you're right)

f1wagsupdates

liked by lando4ever, lilacleclerc and 1,304 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: in his most recent post lando norris included a picture of a girl many believe to be his race engineer y/n y/ln. she's worked with lando for just over a year and are a beloved duo in f1, with their radio conversations being a huge source of entertainment. what do you think of this potential couple: cute or unprofessional?

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babygirllando i think it would be cute... i mean we've all heard the radios... the one when lando crashed... she was so stressed

maxyverstappen i mean that's kinda her job?

kittyrussell as much as i would love this couple, they work together like HR violation ???

norrisszn maybe the issue here is y'all assuming everything all the time ? they're clearly friends? i didn't know you couldn't party with your friends

LN4 literally people assume shit every time and cause the issues

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 421,077 others

tagged: landonorris

f1: lando norris is back on the podium in austria after some quick thinking from his race engineer y/n y/ln helped the brit undercut the alpines to take third!

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landonorris your fave duo tearing it up

yourusername we slayed 💅

glitterlando I DON'T CARE WHAT THAT RAT STEINER SAYS THEY’RE CUTE AND PROFESSIONAL

planetdannyric this is what you get steiner - double haas dnf and y/n being a big component of lando's podium KARMA

danielricciardo team work makes the dream work !! happy for you two 🏆

hugsforlando danny being a landoy/n shipper so true of him

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 531,778 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: after the last couple weeks, y/n has been subject to the most ridiculous and disgusting ridicule from people from within our own sport. y/n y/ln is one of the most talented individuals in f1 and i am forever grateful that she is on my team! i think we all saw how important she is to my success, so appreciation post for my rock! x

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howdyricciardo god they are so cute whether they're a couple or just friends

yourusername awwww thank you lando i don't care what they say we continue to slay

landonorris lets fucking go

flowersforlando i need this couple to happen fuck steiner

smoooooothoperator no cause power couple for real

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 49,671 others

yourusername: don't let any man tell you that you can't do it

p.s. slagging off your drivers in your book and on national television is more unprofessional than anything i could ever do

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mickschumacher ❤️

danielricciardo as the children say - mother

landonorris forever proud of you y/n

yourusername thank you landinho

maxverstappen1 let's gooooooooo

carlossainz55 tell them !!

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, alexalbon and 772,109 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: what if i told you i don't care, our team chemistry is unmatched

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yourusername not exactly how i thought we were going to do this but i love you silly ❤️

landonorris i love you more

danielricciardo so it is true !!! was about to ask you if you finally grew some balls and asked

landonorris dude don't out me on main

lewishamilton so so happy for you guys !!

yoursricciardo omg parents

lovelylando they make me believe in love for real

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 71,209 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: i'd take all the shit in the world to stay with you ❤️

p.s. let's get that win baby

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violetleclerc i will be seated for lando's maiden win and y/n excellence

landonorris i love you so much (and the win is coming, i can feel it)

yourusername you'll get what you deserve in due time

maxverstappen1 does the camera man not get a shout out?

yourusername thank you for being our personal photographer, not my fault you tackle my phone out of my hands whenever i try to take a pic of you :/

note: hope you enjoyed, i'm finally getting through the requests !! xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #lando norris insta au #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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infamous-if · 4 months

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To Gender Select, or to Not Gender Select

So as everyone knows, I'm using the opportunity for this rewrite to really step back and look at what I have so far. I have just subscribed to the whole "follow my gut" thing and for the last two months or so, my gut has been telling me something.

For context, I created Orion (and I have mentioned this a couple times when I first opened this blog) that he came to me fully formed. While other ROs were more of a puzzle that appeared more and more fleshed out with every detailed I added, Orion was like a jenga block tower that grew more and more unsteady every time I changed a detail about him. He just came to me exactly as he was and I didn't really think beyond that. For example, with G, pieces of both Gina and Griffin came to me at the same time and G isn't G without both versions. With Orion he was just...Orion.

But lately—and this was not without many suggestions asking for it!—I've been playing around with the idea of a female version of his character.

One of my biggest things was to make sure that this wasn't a matter of just changing a variable. When it comes to my gender selectable ROs, I want to make sure I'm including the subtleties and nuances that come with being a man/woman in the public eye, especially for O. Their route is heavily centered around the idea of professionalism and...other things I can't mention and I think it'd be super interesting to add another component of being a woman, not only typically stern and taciturn but in a dominant position in music mostly taken up by men. Which is why, in the rewrite, there will be lines that are unique to Orion and unique to her. Reactions that are different, conversations that change. People who continue to romance Orion will prob not see a difference.

Not only does it separate them as two different people, it creates some distance from Orion, who is an established and beloved character already. I want his female counterpart to stand on her own as her own character.

Just because they have the same route does not mean they are the same person. I've always said that about my gender selectable characters.

This was not a spur of the moment decision. I was thinking about this for a while. I just needed to make sure every piece of Orion's route would make sense for her, and I do believe it does.

I've also been told many times how many people like Orion's route and the whole "manager-client" trope but are unable to play it as they are not attracted to men. I think this would be a nice addition and a way to make it more inclusive/give more people more routes to play!

The things I have written for Orion will probably stay the same since they've been written. Everything after the rewrite will have both options to select from.

So meet Oriana Quinn. With a short black bob usually greased back and a perfectly pressed suit, Oriana is as intimidating as she is determined. Yes, she's just as tall and muscular as her male counterpart and as obsessed with the gym as he. Her route with Cory will be different in its nature (since Cory is straight) but...guess we'll see!

fun fact: The beauty of Oriana being the name is that coincidentally, it also has to do with the sky. One of my requirements for finding a name like Orion's was that it was sky themed since it does come up. It almost seems like fate! haha

TLDR: Orion will be gender selectable. If you have plans to romance Orion and Orion alone, this will make no difference to you. For those who were hoping for this, I hope this news makes Infamous a bit more enjoyable for you! <3

#update #rewrite #rewrite update #o quinn

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wedonthaveawhile · 6 months

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When she says my name.

Garreth Weasley x F!MC (18+)

Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, possesive!Garreth, dominant!Garrreth, public sex, dirty talk, aged-up characters, unrequited love, pining.

AO3 // Word count: 3k

Garreth picked at the splintered wood on his broom from a recent tussle with a bludger, scanning the courtyard intermittently for any trace of his Quidditch team. Their head of house had recently delivered a stern criticism about their hero complex. Apparently, each member was too focused on personal glory, neglecting the importance of working as a cohesive team.

He eventually detected a figure on a broom, although quickly realised they displayed a level of nimble grace far beyond what he'd expect from one of his lumbering teammates. Hogwarts' resident hero was evidently making a return from one of her mysterious outings.

His eyes swept the courtyard again, a scattering of students strolled across the well-kempt grass, a handful basked in the sun near the fountain, but none he recognised. Thinking about it, Garreth wondered whether he should hang around for this team-building training. It was probably wise, considering he was not only the captain but also the one who had organised the whole thing. However, they were running late, and he had spotted far more appealing company.

Before he could put much more thought into it, he swung his leg over his broomstick and began to silently trail the unsuspecting witch.

He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started noticing her disappearances. He assumed he just hadn't been paying much attention to her whereabouts prior to her inquiry regarding his more 'unobtainable' potions. His tactics hadn't evolved significantly since fifth-year when he’d charmed the newcomer into pilfering Sharp's office for supplies, but he had become far more adept at sneaking around for rare ingredients.

He agreed to assist in whatever scheme she was cooking up, on the condition she helped him obtain the key component. Partly for the benefits of having someone on the lookout for wandering faculty, but mostly because the beloved heroine of Hogwarts could do no wrong. If their covert operation were to be exposed, her involvement would mean the detention time his aunt dished out would be significantly reduced.

They needed snakeweed, which he was fairly certain was cultivated and harvested in the greenhouse. However, Professor Garlick was extremely protective of her plants, requiring their thieving to be done after curfew.

Moonlight wiggled through the twisted tendrils of the countless plants scattered throughout the greenhouse as they dispelled their disillusionment charm and got to work.

"What do you reckon all of this is?" The witch gestured towards a dense blanket covering the harvesting bench, a few neatly folded sheets at one end made it appear like some kind of makeshift bed.

"Perhaps the rumours about Garlick and Kogawa are true. Maybe we've stumbled upon their secret little sex den.” Garreth turned around and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a venomous tentacula lurking in the shadows.

She pulled back the cover, unveiling a project in progress—mallowsweet leaves neatly laid out, drying between the two blankets.

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she scoffed, laying the covering back over the golden foliage. “Or you need to get laid.”

"It was a logical assumption," he argued, crouching beneath a table, casting a dim lumos across a collection of small plant pots. "The height of these tables are just right for it."

"Should I ask how you know that?"

She lifted herself onto the table as if testing the height for herself. Garreth smirked as he shifted the pots around with flicks of his wand.

"I’m a warm-blooded male, I'd say I'm an expert in these things."

Spotting a small propagation of snakeweed, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping a watchful eye on the door. She wasn't. She was perched primly on the edge of the table, legs pressed together from knees to toes.

His eyes roamed across her body, and he realised he had never really had the opportunity to thoroughly check her out. She was like forbidden fruit, always flanked by her two Slytherin gatekeepers. It's not that he hadn't noticed she was attractive, she certainly was. Her feminine figure hinted at subtle signs of muscle earned from days spent sprinting around the castle.

His lusty gaze travelled up to her face, only to discover she had been watching him the entire time. Suppressing the flicker of embarrassment, he instead leaned into his Gryffindor bravery. He grabbed the small pot and approached her, his hips meeting her knees with an intentional bump.

"As promised," he presented her with the delicate plant, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it over.

"That was easy," she raised the pot to catch the moonlight. Her eyes shifted from the plant to him, and her pupils bloomed. "You've earned yourself a returning customer."

"Splendid," he grinned, wondering whether this meant more after-hour hangouts, a thought that kindled his overactive imagination. "The first one's on the house, the rest might come with a price tag."

“I suppose I’ll have to start saving then. What's your price?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make demands beyond your means,” he backtracked, worried she might think he was being serious. “Wouldn’t want to scare off my favourite customer.”

"Snagged the title of the favourite customer without parting with a single penny?” She chuckled lightly, scraping her teeth across her lower lip, “Business must be crawling."

"I prioritise quality over quantity," his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face, purposefully lingering a beat too long on her lips before flitting back to her eyes. "Now, what assets do you bring to the trading table?"

"Let me think," she reclined on her palms. "What do I bring to this specific table..." she emphasised each word with a tap of her nails against the wood, "that a warm-blooded male might find tempting?"

Heat surged through his body, and he began to regret pressing himself up against her legs, there was no way she couldn’t feel his enthusiasm swell against her knees.

“Did I mention it’s one for the price of two?”

She laughed, the sugar-sweet sound tickling his brain and the movement of her body causing her legs to part slightly.

“See, what did I tell you?" he pushed his palms against the table on either side of her thighs as he slotted himself between them. "Perfect height."

"I took your word for it. After all, you're the expert." She gave his tie a tug before running the fabric through her fingers. “Well, so you say...”

"Correct," he answered simply, because the only other words rattling around in his head was an offer to sit on his face, and he was trying really hard to play it cool.

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you going to verify that claim?”

You would have thought they were time-fated lovers, not classroom acquaintances. She had been right. He needed to get laid, and she needed some stress relief. It didn't take long before her skirt was hiked up around her waist and he was showcasing just how perfect the height of the table was. He assured her the greenhouse was soundproof due to the mandrakes, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Frankly, he didn't care. Her unrestrained moaning, nails scraping across the wooden table, heels digging into his back to pull him in deeper—it made a lifetime of detention feel like a minor nuisance.

The saying goes, once is a mistake and twice is a habit, but Garreth wondered when it tipped into addiction. Whenever she was stressed—and fortunately for him, that was often—he found himself happily yanked by his tie into the nearest broom cupboard, beneath the Quidditch stands before one of his matches, by the edge of the lake under a disillusionment charm...

Maybe this time, on the balcony of the highest tower?

That's where she gracefully dismounted her broom. He followed suit, touching down behind her without a sound. Her jumper was splattered with mud down one arm, but for the most part, she was reasonably unscathed which was a rarity. She tugged it over her head to clean it with a quick charm, and he realised the stain bore a suspicious resemblance to a troll's handprint.

He knew she could handle herself, she’d been doing so for almost two years without his observations. Nevertheless, he realised he’d begun to worry about her when she was away.

He cleared his throat.

She whirled around with startled eyes and he muffled her gasp with a kiss. She squirmed for a few seconds, but her resistance crumbled as his thumbs glided up her neck, tracing delicate patterns under her ears.

He wasn't certain if she was doing the pulling or if he was doing the pushing, but somehow her back ended up crashing against the wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as his lips tore from hers and latched onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she landed a weak thump on his bicep.

"You look like you lost a fight with a swamp," he mumbled against her skin, his hands wandering down to her hips.

"I'll have you know, I beat that swamp fair and square."

A ghost of a laugh dispersed across her neck, "I like the thought of watching you mud-wrestle. Let me come with you next time."

“Or you could come in me now?”

It was an obvious deflection tactic, but he gladly took the bait. His kisses grew forceful as he began to nip at her exposed skin.

“You better not be leaving marks, Weasley.”

He grumbled in protest against the light pink blotch he had begun to work into her throat. Something in the primal recesses of his mind itched to brand her. He wanted his lips stained on her skin, regardless of wherever or whoever she was with when she was gone.

"What if they're out of sight?" His fingers danced against her neck as he worked on undoing her tie, it fluttered to the ground before he finished asking for permission.

She withdrew her wand and uttered the incantation for a protective charm to shield their misdeeds from any potential spectators. He took that as consent, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Where have you been?" he probed before his teeth dug into the plump flesh above her breasts. It had been nearly nine days since their last encounter, easily their longest dry spell in the two months since their greenhouse tryst.

"None of your business," She hooked her fingers into his trousers to pull him closer, trying to find some friction.

"I want it to be.”

"Tough shit, Weasley,” her voice faltered as he hiked her skirt up around her waist.

“Garreth,” he reprimanded.

She only called him by his first name when they were fucking. He was certain she’d been deliberately conditioning him with it. If he teased her too vigorously in class all she had to do was say, "Shut it, Garreth," and he'd have to discreetly conceal his excitement for the next ten minutes. She made him dumb, plain and simple.

"You'll have to earn that," she purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.

He scooped her up, spinning her around until she perched on the balcony's banister. A yelp escaped her as she teetered on the concrete edge, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“I want to feel this tomorrow,” she popped open his buttons to speed up the process, “Please?"

“I've got you," he assured, feeling her pulse thunder against his chest as he positioned himself between her thighs. One hand supported her back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.

It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before she came along. The way she demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning. "Say please again," he whispered, nipping her lower lip as he moved her soaked underwear to the side and positioned himself at her entrance. "I like it when you ask nicely."

"Pretty please?" she simpered before kissing him, her tongue eagerly seeking his.

He swallowed her moan as he pushed himself into her, she felt better than he remembered. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave her everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she whined against his mouth, her head tilting back as her eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, her own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.

He pulled her close by the small of her back with one arm, maintaining his grip on her neck with the other, aligning her to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, she bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as he bottomed out.

So, it was fine when she left a mark. He'd certainly remember that.

“You feel so fucking good, Garreth-”

A fractured cry fell from her lips as he pounded into her because his name had floated off her tongue like a prayer, causing something inside him to shatter, like it always did. Defining the constantly shifting dynamic between them was impossible, but it was addicting - He always found himself craving a little more than what he was getting.

“Who do you belong to?”

Garreth threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head up to look him in the eyes. She regarded him with a dizzy stare but remained silent. He began to slow down, and she instinctively bucked her hips to maintain some friction as her building orgasm began to ebb away.

“I said, who do you belong to?”

She wasn't his, they were both aware of that. This was never more than a matter of convenient timing and a means of stress relief. Nonetheless, he took pleasure in the hold he had over the most formidable witch of their generation. The witch with unwavering principles and determination. The witch who never faltered in her beliefs. The witch who was currently lying through her teeth for the pleasure of coming undone on his cock.

“You,” she whimpered, “Please, Garreth. Don’t stop, please.”

He didn't know if it was the way she was begging or the frantic desperation of her hips grinding against his, but he was teetering on the edge of his breaking point. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold himself together long enough for her to reach the finish line.

"Chin up," he demanded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he reached one hand between them, rubbing a lopsided circle around her clit. “You look at me when you come."

He groaned through clenched teeth as his words caused her to instantly tighten around him, and that beautiful, hazy look fell over her face. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him so hard it carved itself onto his brain and he released nine days of pent-up desire. He rolled his hips against hers as they both rode it out, briefly forgetting he should be gentle considering she was perched on the edge of a several hundred-foot drop.

He had believed there was nothing better than watching her unravel in his arms before seeking his own release, but he was wrong. Feeling her orgasm spasming over his shaft as he filled her up damn near killed him.

He fastened his trousers and helped her down from the stone balustrade. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to hide the fact that she was wobbling. He hoped his performance had met her expectations and he’d still be making her legs tremble tomorrow.

He peppered kisses across the blemishes he'd left on her breasts as he fastened the buttons of her shirt, trailing up to nip at the delicate spot on her neck just beneath her ear, the spot only he knew about, the spot that made her head tilt back and her vision fill with stars. He whispered an "Accio" against her skin, summoning a tie from the ground. He secured it around her throat with a playful tug before pulling her jumper over her head.

“You have to go?” he murmured between kisses, finding it bothered him less when he asked rather than when she told him.

Her chest heaved as she sighed, planting a lingering kiss on his lips before bending down to gather her things. “I have a study group. You’re welcome to join?”

He gave her a foggy smile and shook his head lightly. “I have some Quidditch thing I’m late for.”

“Alright, well…” She cast a fleeting glance at her abandoned broom on the floor. They hadn’t quite mastered the art of goodbyes yet. “Later, Weasley.”

“See you later,” he offered her a half-hearted wave, hoping she wouldn't make him wait another nine days before flying into his line of sight again.

As he watched her leave, he found himself wondering what impulse had led him to fasten his Gryffindor tie around her neck. There was the undeniable hope her irritation at his bold act would result in some passionate hate sex, but it ran deeper than that. It felt territorial. He’d been growing increasingly irritated with Sallow's lecherous stare and Gaunt's persistent attempts to cater to her every whim. They seemed to believe they held a Slytherin monopoly on her affections, all due to some unspoken event that happened over two years ago. Garreth understood her on a deeper level. She wanted someone who wouldn't procrastinate for two years, someone capable of making her scream on a greenhouse bench at two in the morning. He had a claim too, a far more substantial one.

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the-least-undefinable-ordinal · 3 months

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Uni life <3

#shitpost #mathblr #studyblr #masking tape my beloved #I don't know the english word for that tool with red handle #but let me assure you it is an indispensable component of my study process

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the-bafflement-of-scotland-yard · 2 years

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Having a few hot summer days gave me some inspiration for a little train beach day 😌 This is also a bit of an experiment, as I wanted to explore Dinah and Greaseball’s relationship too in a different way than comparing it in passing to Electra and C.B., and it was kinda fun to write 👀

Summary: On a beach day, Dinah reminisces on the beach trips she went on with Greaseball before. They had some good times, after all.

I’m gonna return to the regular main story after this, I promise

#jenny writes oh no #starlight express #StEx #dinahboose #greasedinah #greased lightning #prupp #joulta #components stex #Greaseball #Dinah #c.b.#electra my beloved #Krupp #joule stex #volta stex #wrench stex #purse stex

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its-your-mind · 5 months

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Some Thoughts on the importance of physical touch and connection for the Hells: A reflection on the new animated intro.

In general, I think the Hells are a really strange and special group, especially for a dnd party. They pretty much laid all their baggage on the table within the first week of meeting each other (What the Fuck is Up With That?) almost as a litmus test: "hey, here's all the shit that comes with being me, last chance to run away if that's too much."

and none of them did. and they all kept choosing to stay, even as shit got even weirder and more and more disturbing answers came to light. I think that continued choice from all of them - to stay - is what makes the bonds between the Hells so deep and so special.

okay trauma analysis and party dynamics is a DIFFERENT POST but it was all RELEVANT INTRODUCTION bc the CHOOSING TO STAY and the KNOWING EACH OTHERS' SHIT are like. key components to understanding why I am so feral about this. okay hopefully you will understand. the body of my essay is below. it has pictures. it got... too long. so. it went under a read more. yw. anyway click below if you want a very detailed analysis of an animated intro that is literally only one minute and thirty seconds long

For the first bit, character intros for Fearne, Orym, Imogen, Ashton, there’s no physical contact.

BUT. First intro of hells as a team. Ashton Trauma Flashback interrupted by laudna approaching slowly from beside him with her hand gently in front of him to signal her presence without startling him, and THEN just talking at them. Bringing him out of those flashbacks. Reminding him where he is and who he’s with.

And tbh? For Ashton? Touch is always iffy, so this is almost a more understanding and kind way to bring them out of the flashback. Just physical presence is good! UNLESS. (unless) first actual touch. Fearne stealing their coin purse, so gently that they don’t even notice it (FLIRTING THROUGH THEFT callowmoore my beloved)

(also grabbed the cap that shows her with his coinpurse these fucking ANIMATORS)

okay pt 2 FLYING OFF THE AIRSHIP

Ashton's first instinct and priority is grab laudna’s hand bc he KNOWS she is made of paper mache and he is ALWAYS watching out for her out of the corner of his eye bc she is breakable and he’s not gonna let her break bc he KNOWS what it’s like to be breakable and need someone to catch you when you’re falling but ANYWAY. he grabs her he uses his hammer as a fulcrum to throw her at Imogen

because OF COURSE he knows that the safest and most comfortable space for laudna is in imogen’s arms. and the two of them wrap their arms around each other and hold tight Superman style bc ofc they do and once laudna is in imogen’s arms she’s absolutely delighted by this whole situation bc OFC SHE IS

(tf do you mean I can’t add more than ten images on mobile UGH fine I’ll finish writing then draft and move to PC the images are IMPORTANT TO MY POINT anyway insert lesbians here) (note from future mind: I have decided that these pic descriptions i left for myself to grab the right images are fucking hilarious so they’re staying in yw)

Then fearne (who had been on her way in that direction already) swoops under Ashton to catch him as he flips over from the momentum so he can land on her giant bird back and she can fly him away.

(Pics: It’s fine to touch Ash if you’re saving their life)

(also not pictured: chet staying on the ship but losing his hat, orym grabbing it out of the air, imogen casting fly on fcg right before she catches laudna, fcg flying over to grab orym) All of this happens in six seconds by the way. One round of combat. These animators are fucking incredible.

BACK TO CHARACTER INTROS laudna who is ofc alone and in the dark at the bottom of the Sun tree, reliving her past…

(Pic: sad lonely laudna)

right up until Imogen puts her head on her shoulder, and the darkness burns away into light. She doesn’t say anything, or talk with laudna - all it takes is that physical reminder that she’s not alone anymore, that there is warmth, that she is surrounded by a family who loves her so much they chose to turn down comfortable beds in a lord’s manor so that they could join her in sleeping at the bottom of the Sun Tree. (Fav lil detail - fearne wrapped around Orym like he’s a teddy bear, and holding tight to laudna’s blanket to make sure she can’t go anywhere.)

(Pics: THE POWER OF LESBIANS AND FOUND FAMILY)

fcg. Fuck. Starts with their flashback, with their red eyes and their buzzsaw, but almost immediately we see Ashton reach out to grab their shoulder and Orym whip out a vine to tie up their saw.

(pics: reaching out even if it might hurt youuuuu)

Imogen goes on her knees and wraps her arms around FCG’s other side, and the rest of them all gather around him, holding him to keep him and each other safe, but mostly just grounding him in the present by surrounding him physically until the flashback fades and he’s once more aware of his surroundings.

(Pics: what the fuck they just need to be held)

(once shit has calmed down fearne uses this opportunity to pick Ashton’s pocket again. Flirting through theft).

(Pic: fearne is a menace to society)

final fight scene. fuck yes.

(Pic: IT’S THURSDAY NIIIIIIIIIIIGHT)

This is mostly just giving all of them room to be badasses (as they deserve) - but there are some things!! First!!

(pics: THESE WITCHES BE BITCHES minus fearne sry fearne we miss u but you are on fire and laudna is made of wood currently)

Imogen and laudna casting spells back to back, trusting each other to take care of what’s on their side. Inseparable, even in a battle where their party has scattered to fight other enemies.

BUT. The BIG thing though in this sequence. Maybe my favorite part? Idk I don’t have a favorite. But!! Orym. taking out four of Otohan’s shadow knights. then facing off against her personally!! And it’s one-on-one, because this was Orym’s task alone - to find the person who attacked his leader and killed his family. He’s angry, but mostly he’s honed-in and focused and determined. This is his mission.

(Pics: WHO’S JUST A LIL GUY NOW HUH)

But then, when Otohan pushes him back…

(Pic: fuck. shit. fuck. im. fine. anYway. them.)

FCG and Ashton are there right behind him, and they put their arms out and catch him so he doesn’t fly back any farther. And there’s this look of surprise on his face, because once he lost Will, he never expected there to be anyone else standing behind him, ready to catch him. And yet, here they are.

(Pics: fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes GOOOO ORYM!!!)

They give Orym a push forward and follow behind him, and he walks back towards Otohan with confidence. Lil grin on his face, brisk walking pace - he even does a little fancy sword swoosh! Because maybe he’s not strong enough to take out Otohan on his own. But the thing is, he’s not alone anymore.

(Pic: THEY.)

None of them are alone. And whenever any of them forget, or slip into old habits and memories, the rest are right there to reach out a hand to remind them.

Building a family out of broken pieces is difficult even without an apocalypse. But the Hells have shown each other, over and over and over, often with their actions even more than their words, that they really are dedicated to this family that they've built together. This intro fucking slaps so hard and the animators deserve so much praise for how incredible this intro is

#Tbh I could (and probably will) write multiple essays on the new intro but this is the one I love the most #no I’m not touch-starved what are you talking about #critical role #bells hells #c3e76 #cr3 #c3 #cr3 spoilers #c3 spoilers #bells hells intro #ashton greymoore #laudna #fearne calloway #imogen temult #fcg #orym of the air ashari #chetney pock o'pea #bells hells animated

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mayfieldss · 1 year

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Heyy girlie, can I have a Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader where reader is bellys best friend, come down for the summer and ends up secretly hooking up with conrad here and there. They agreed to no strings attached but maybe Connie couldn't help but fall in love? Xoxo ❤️

Guy falls first trope my beloved

A little more - Conrad Fisher

Warnings; sexual innuendos, language, mentions of underage drinking.

Conrad hadn't intended for this to happen. His relationship with you was supposed to be no strings attached, simply business and pleasure, but somehow in the process of it all, Conrad had gone mad.

He thought of you, outside of the nights you spent together and the sheets you would tangle yourselves in. He imagined himself with you free from the sneaking around and the hook-ups.

You were Belly's best friend, and earlier in the year after getting intoxicated beyond measure you and Conrad had spent the night together. It was meant to be a one-time thing. One night of your skin against his, Conrad's lips on yours. Somehow in the mix of it all, you and Conrad had made a deal. Sex, no strings attached, no feelings involved, and nobody should know. At the time Conrad was okay with that, nights spent with you when he needed some relief, but somewhere along the line, Conrad had begun needing and wanting you as more than just a body to hold in the darkness.

Soon, summer would be over, and everyone would leave cousins behind until the next year, and that meant Conrad had a limited time with you. There was no telling if Belly would bring you back with her next year, either. Maybe bringing her best friend along was a one-time thing. Perhaps Conrad ran the risk of never seeing you again outside of occasions such as Belly's birthday parties. He hated to think about that, but what he found worse was that you probably didn't care about such a thing. As far as Conrad knew you were oblivious to his feelings for you, how they had grown over the nights you spent with him.

"Earth to Conrad!" It's Jeremiah, waving from across the kitchen. "Dude, get your ass moving, Belly and Y/N are back."

The sound of your name gets Conrad up, and he jumps down from the counter where he was sitting. When he makes it to the driveway, you and Belly are struggling with far too many grocery bags.

"You said you were just gonna get a couple of things, not hundreds." Conrad takes the bags from you, trying his best not to smile too broadly. If he does it might just reveal to the others how much time you and Conrad have really spent together. It might also let you see behind the curtain of his feelings, he's not sure he's ready to tell you how he feels yet.

"We got carried away." You look to Belly with a grin, Jeremiah laughing as he takes the rest of the bags

"We can see that."

It almost stops Conrad's heart when you push past him, shoulder brushing against his as you lift bottles of chocolate milk and juice up in your arms. He can't comprehend whether the contact was made on purpose or not, and he follows close behind as you wander into the house.

You head straight to the fridge to put the beverages away, Conrad dumping the bags he holds onto the counter with Jeremiah close behind. Conrad wants so badly to talk to you at that moment, and he hates himself for thinking about some kind of domestic lifestyle with you. It's been one summer after all, and somehow in the short time Conrad was blessed with your presence, such strong feelings have arisen.

He clears his throat before he can stop himself, and you turn, the refrigerator door falling shut as you do. Jeremiah eyes him closely too, and he knows then that he can't do this. Not now, not here. It's not fair of him to put you on the spot in front of Jeremiah and Belly. If he's going to confess how he feels, which Conrad is still not sure he can do, he's going to do it privately where he can gauge your genuine reaction. No outside components involved. So, Conrad walks away, acting as though he had never intended to say anything at all.

Conrad had spent more than enough time thinking about how he would broach the subject of his feelings to you, and in the end, he felt there was no possible way he could plan for it. You sat beside the pool with Belly, laughing with your feet in the water, and as much as Conrad knew you would hate him for it, he called out your name. When you looked up, the shock of it was all over your face.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" Conrad speaks again, taking note of the way Belly glances between the two of you as if you are a foreign species about to do a peculiar dance.

You stand, slowly, and make your way to him, Conrad moving inside and away from the curious ears of Belly Conklin.

"I want to talk about us." He's careful with his words, and they feel foreign on his tongue. Us, as in you and Conrad together. It feels odd to say.

"What about us?" You look around as you say it, arms folding over your chest in discomfort. He hates to make you feel that way, but he can't keep hiding how he feels, not when summers almost gone.

"I want us to be something." It's a weird way to put it, but it's all Conrad can think of to say. "Something more than whatever the fuck we've been doing." He finds himself reaching for you, pulling your arms away from your chest so he can take your hands in his own. "I know we said no strings attached, but I fucking like you—a lot."

You can't seem to meet his eyes, dodging his gaze expertly as he gives your hands a gentle squeeze. He wanted your honest reaction, and he guesses this is it, though it's not the one he wanted. "Y/N, please look at me." He stares you down, and when you finally lock your eyes with his, he doesn't know what to think. You seem scared, and Conrad worries he might be the source of your fears.

"Belly is my best friend Conrad, this can't happen, even if I wanted it to."

"So you admit, you want more than what we have?" It sounds harsh when the words leave him, and Conrad doesn't intend it to be that way. He's just desperate, for you.

"Conrad," His name from your lips would be soothing, if not for the situation. He still holds your hands in his own, and he intertwines your fingers with his, hoping that it might mean something to you, and get you to change your mind. All you do is shake your head and he curses his bad luck that the one person he needs, he can't have.

"Y/N, please. Just give me one shot, give us one shot." He's pulled you just that little bit closer, a risky move considering anyone could walk in and catch you any second. He does it anyway, and you don't stop him. That's enough for him to lean in further, and then he waits. He's so close to you that the tip of his nose brushes against yours and the anticipation of his lips so close drives him crazy. When you close the gap he knows you feel the same. Even if he can't be with you, even if Belly and the others hold you back, he knows you have something.

"Don't make me wait till next summer." He whispers the words with his forehead pressed to yours when your lips break apart, looking down at his hands holding yours. He's in love, but he doesn't know when it happened, or how.

"There's no guarantee Belly will want me to come with her next year Con." It's a harsh truth that has to be spoken. There's no way Belly would let you come with her again next year if she knew what you and Conrad had been doing all summer. Maybe he could invite you back himself, but that wouldn't be fair on you or Belly. The only person that would be happy with the arrangement would be Conrad, and was he really that selfish?

"You have to leave in a week." The words are so quiet because even Conrad himself doesn't want to hear them. He says them anyway, hands moving up to hold your wrists. His grasp is gentle, but he can feel your pulse through his fingers and it reminds him just how real you are. He'd done that a lot over the last couple of weeks, and every time it hit him like a shockwave, a reminder that everything you had was reality and not just some distant dream.

"Do you want us to be more? Don't think about anyone else, just give me a yes or no." His eyes are pleading, and he knows it's unfair on you but he needs the answer. He needs to know.

"I really like you, Conrad," You bring a hand up to touch the side of his face, so gently that the touch is hardly registered against his skin. "But you know we can't."

"That's not an answer." He's determined and with each second that passes, that desperate feeling grows inside him, a weed that he can't remove from the garden.

You let out a sigh, shifting your gaze to the floor beside you, "We agreed on this being a no-strings-attached type of deal, and I hate that I'm attached to you now, but that's the rule, Conrad. That's the promise we made."

"I don't care about that promise." He's dead serious and when you turn to look at him again, he knows you are too. You shake your head, moving away from him.

"We can't."

A few days pass and Conrad knows your avoiding him. The days go by slowly, you don't answer his texts, and he hardly sees you around the beach house. You're around of course, and you act as though everything is fine so as to not draw attention to your sudden distaste for Conrad's presence, but you work hard to keep appearances where he may be to a minimum. Conrad called you a few times late at night too, hoping if anything to go back to the way things were before he confessed just so he could spend some time with you. You didn't pick up.

"Hey, where's Y/N?" it's the day before you leave Cousins, and Conrad can't help but ask Belly where you may be. He needs to talk to you, make sure everything is okay before you leave him and the beach house behind.

Belly's expression is one of confusion when she looks to him, a frown gracing her forehead as she shovels cereal through her lips. "What is it with you and her, something's going on."

Conrad can only shrug, wondering what you would do if he blew your cover. If he did maybe it would be easier to have a conversation with you, even if you were yelling at him, at least he would have you talking. But he doesn't want to hurt you and outing your little arrangement over the last month might just do that.

"I just want to know where she is Belly."

It's as if you know what he's doing because in the next moment his phone dings, and as he stares down at the screen it's your name that reflects against his eyes. He dashes out the door as soon as he sees it, ignoring Belly's concerned calls after him as he races to the sand dunes. When he gets there, you're waiting for him, knees hugged to your chest.

"You got my text." You look up when he's right beside you, and he lets out an exasperated laugh.

"It doesn't seem like you got many of mine." It's a dig at the way you'd been avoiding him and Conrad knows it's risky to say, but he does so anyway. He is a little annoyed with you after all.

"I'm sorry, I needed time to think." You shuffle over in the sand, an invitation for him to sit with you. He takes it gratefully, settling down at your side.

"You're leaving soon." His voice is quiet, and he waits. You say nothing, instead opting to rest your head on his shoulder, the silence enveloping you both. It's enough though, a gesture that tells Conrad just how much you'll miss him when summer is over. He rests his head over yours, and you wait together for your summer to reach its end.

On the final day, Conrad is at his limit. Watching you pack your things is almost too much for him, even though he knew it was coming. You'd said goodbye to him privately earlier in the day, a kiss or two exchanged, but Conrad hated it. It felt too final like he would never be seeing you again, and he refused to see that as a fact.

Now, you stand by the car, hugging Susannah goodbye. His mother strokes your hair lovingly, muttering something to you that he can't hear, and he can't believe summer is over. His summer with you, perhaps the only one he will get, is over. You're heading toward the car when he makes his decision, and the way his legs carry him over to you is almost abnormal. It's almost as though he has no control over his own body, his mind consumed with the thought of you, making his limps force their way to your figure.

"Y/N, wait." Your name falls from his lips smooth, his tongue so used to saying the word. You turn fast as if you'd been waiting for him. He hopes you were.

Conrad is selfish. He wants to be selfish and he's made his decision about that. He's willing to live with it, because, in the next moment, he's kissing you, bringing you into him in front of his family and friends, and making a statement that is full of risk and passion. But the best part is, he doesn't care how they'll react. Kissing you makes him feel alive as if he's a decent human being worthy of something, and if this is the last time he gets to feel that way, so be it. So he kisses you, and you kiss him back, that being a type of relief no drug can provide. He doesn't know what will happen when he pulls away, when your lips part from his, but for now, he doesn't want to find out. He's willing to stay in this moment as long as he can and deal with the rest of it later because what he has with you is complicated, but it sure is worth it.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber @s00buwu

TSITP TAGLIST: @things-that-make-sa-happy

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theantarwitch · 3 months

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Alchemy, the untouched friend of Witchcraft

If there is something interesting that is nearly not used on mostly of the witch community, is Alchemy, and is something from which we could take some few useful stuffs.

As always, disclaimer first, I’m not an expert on the subject and I barely if I read a couple of books about the topic (from another 10 untouched ones lol), so as always in life, take what I say with tweezers. This is meant to be a light superficial view to open a door of possibilities in a mix of Witchcraft and Alchemy, is not a thesis. Saying that, to the core of the question.

Alchemy use elements. A lot of them.

The three primes or Tria Prima (the basic 3 materials): Sulfur (Related to the Soul and the principle of combustibility, so it has volatility, can burn, explode, combust), Mercury (Related to the Spirit, the principle of fusibility so the material can be fused together and volatility so a substance vaporizes), and Salt (Relate to the Body, the principle of non-combustibility and non-volatility).

Our beloved Four basic Elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water.

The Seven Metals associated with the seven classical planets: Lead, corresponding with Saturn. Tin, corresponding with Jupiter. Iron, corresponding with Mars. Gold, corresponding with the Sun. Copper, corresponding with Venus. Mercury, corresponding with Mercury. Silver, corresponding with the Moon.

The 13 Mundane Elements and Later Metals: Antimony, Arsenic, Bismuth, Cobalt, Magnesium, Manganese, Nickel, Oxygen, Phlogiston, Phosphorus, Platinum, Sulfur, Zinc (All of them with a lot of interesting properties and functions, in and out the alchemy world).

The 10 Alchemical Compounds: Acid, Sal ammoniac, Aqua fortis, Aqua regia, Aqua vitae, Amalgam, Cinnabar, Vinegar, Vitriol, Brimstone (All of them also with amazing properties).

And what interesting me the most (at least to my way to do witchcraft), The 12 Alchemical Processes:

Calcination (Aries): The thermal treatment of a solid to removing impurities or volatile substances.

Congelation (Taurus): Term used in medieval and early modern alchemy for the process known today as crystallization. Process by which a solid form into a structure known as a crystal, by precipitating from a solution or freezing.

Fixation (Gemini): Process by which a previously volatile substance is "transformed" into a form (often solid) that is not affected by fire.

Solution (Cancer): Homogeneous mixture composed of two or more substances. In such a mixture, a solute is a substance dissolved in another substance, known as a solvent.

Digestion (Leo): A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks.

Distillation (Virgo): Separating the components or substances from a liquid mixture by using selective boiling and condensation.

Sublimation (Libra): The transition of a substance directly from the solid to the gas state, without passing through the liquid state.

Separation (Scorpio): Converts a mixture or solution of chemical substances into two or more distinct product mixtures. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity.

Ceration (Sagittarius): Chemical process, by continuously adding a liquid by imbibition to a hard, dry substance while it is heated. Typically, this treatment makes the substance softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction (Capricorn): A metabolic process that produces chemical changes in organic substrates through the action of enzymes/ Decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion.

Multiplication (Aquarius): Process to increase the potency of the elixir or projection powder, in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection.

Projection (Pisces): Process to transmute a lesser substance into a higher form; often lead into gold.

Damn, alchemy even have symbols to Units: Month, Day, Hour, Dram (Unit of mass between 1 and 3 grams), Half Dram, Ounce (Unit of mass, weight or volume of 28 grams, Half Ounce, Scruple (1 grams), Pound (500 grams).

So just with this simple 2 pages of basic Wikipedia info, we have a ton of new things to use. Everything here has specific properties, some more physical and chemical oriented, but others (like the 3 Tria Prima and The 12 Alchemical Processes) have a lot of correspondences with the witch life itself.

The 12 Alchemical Processes could be absolutely used to represent an desired outcome.

Calcination uses thermal treatment, so it can boost the Fire element of a spell. It also “removing impurities or volatile substances”, so can be applied to generate a mild fever to get rid off the flu, or to boost the organs that clean the body (kidneys and liver mostly)

Congelation turns a solid by freezing, can boost the Water element, so all the “freezer spells” can be boosted with this.

Fixation? A volatile substance is transformed into a solid form? Sound pretty much to grounding, or to help to focus an ADHD head as mine, or to put down to earth someone who is VOLATILE AND VIOLENT. Also, Earth element.

Solution? Homogeneous mixture of two or more substances? It sounds like an aid to make two people on conflict to get into an agreement, or to boost a new business by mixing the opportunities with the action. Air element.

Digestion. A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks? It sounds like something that can help any process that need digestion (bad news must be “digested”, hard choices must be “consulted with the pillow”), and the “gentle heat” sounds comforting. Someone is grieving? Maybe Digestion can help them to overcome the awful times.

Distillation. Separating the components or substances. Anything that need to be separated can be helped with this. Relationships that must end, breakups, cut the ties with older things or habits.

Sublimation. The transition of a substance. I heard trans rights? Can this maybe help with your hormones? Or even to transition from what you previously left behind with the distillation, to focus in a new better future.

Separation. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity. How to choose from two or more choices? How to pick the better one? The one with purity? Separation maid aid.

Ceration. A hard, dry is heated to make it softer. Make that person less frigid, make the boss less bitchy, make your chronic pain less hurtful, make your bills less heavy, all that you can think in make softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction. I personally love this one. Produces changes in organic substrates and decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion. Prime element to curses. All what you want to rid off in the most disgusting way. May their flesh get rotten under a car in a hot summer.

Multiplication. Process to increase the potency of the elixir in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection. MONEY MONEY MAKE MORE MONEY, all what need to be increased and all what you want to multiply, go go go!

Projection. Transmute a lesser substance into a higher form “lead into gold”. Perfect to get better as a person, to learn to adapt, accept, to grow compassion, love, etc.

At this you can add the Units, the metals and mundane elements, the 4 elements, the tria prima, your crystals and herbs and sigils and all. And your spells will be filled with components and correspondences.

What’s better, a lot of the physical elements are not too hard to get (some yes, they are, but you are not here to make lead into gold with a full set of chemistry), but alchemy use a lot of symbology, so even if you don’t have the physical element, you can use their properties with the symbol, just as any other sigil.

Salt is easy. Tin in a food can. Antimony in mostly all the rocks. Arsenic in apple seeds (technically no but still). Cobalt and Manganese basically everywhere. Magnesium in your own body. Nickel in coins. Oxygen in the air., Phosphorus, Zinc and Sulfur in food. Acid in anything acid lol. Aqua vitae in alcohol (especially Whisky). Vinegar in vinegars.

Long story short, if you feel that maybe you are lacking something, check some books about alchemy would maybe help. Don’t pick super chemical specific pro books and don’t be discouraged by the terms, pick what can be useful to you, and I hope this open some doors and bring more curiosity about this amazing topic.

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