tiny vial

Random Trinket Table

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Man, I want something useless but mildly interesting that isn’t from the trinket table in the player’s handbook!” Well, you’re in luck. Because I love random, useless trinkets and I’ve created a list for all to use. Even though there are plenty of other random trinket tables out there, you can never really have too many. Am I right or…? Anyways. Table below the cut!

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Mini Protection Vial

For @apollog-y.

This is an all-around protection spell, but it can be modified with intent to specific situations. It can be applied to yourself, another person, or an entire household.


  • a tiny vial with a cork
  • sea salt
  • black pepper / peppercorns
  • onion powder
  • basil
  • crumbled bay leaves
  • cinnamon
  • rosemary
  • two tealights (optional)
  • a taglock (optional)

Prep for spellwork in any way you wish or normally do.

If you would like, cleanse the vial, but it isn’t necessary.

If you are using the candles, light them now. 

Layer equal amounts of each ingredient in the vial, in the following order: sea salt, black pepper / peppercorns, cinnamon, onion powder, crumbled bay leaves, basil, rosemary.

As you add each ingredient, focus on your intent, and what you wish the herb to do for you. Do your best to feel the energy of each herb. Feel free to channel your own energy into the herbs to amplify them, continuing to focus on your desire to be safe.

If you wish to be protected from a certain scenario / person / etc., keep that in mind as you are channeling.

Out loud, or in your head, request the assistance of the herb’s energy to keep you protected. 

If you are doing the spell for a house, specify that you would like the entire area protected. If you are doing this spell for a friend, specify them by name and request the energies be directed toward them.

If you wish to use a taglock (either for yourself or for a friend), place it in the vial at the end, after all the other ingredients have been layered.

Close the vial.

If you used the candles, wait until enough wax has melted and pooled, and dip the cork / top of the vial into the wax, to seal it. You can find a tutorial for this by @witchy-woman [here].

Carry it on your person when you wish to feel its energies upon you.

If the spell is for a household, keep it in a central room if you can; otherwise, anywhere the vial will be kept safely is fine. If you are performing this spell for a friend, give the vial to them if you can.

Finally finished my altoid tin altar box!

Come take a look…

Outside of the tin. It stays closed but I added the ribbon for an extra touch. I’m debating putting a pentacle or some moons on, but that may be for another day. I sanded the top, painted a layer of modge podge down, then painted with acrylics and sealed with polyeurothane.

The inside is lined with jewelry bag fabric on the bottom. The top is acrylic paint and a sealed feather - air signs whaddup!!! My mini altar cloth is out to show the fit of everything in the box (aka barely).

In my box I have…

- a mini altar cloth

- tealight

- matches

- small vial of pink salt (grounding), lavender (calming), rose petal (self love), sage (cleansing), amethyst (also calming), and quartz points (clarity and amplification)

- tiny vial of coffee beans

- quartz point which I may take out

- elephant guardian animal

- yak/buffalo/bison charm for my spirit guide

- safety pins (wishes)

- small amazonite

- element representations: acorn charm (earth), seashell (water), carnelian (fire), wand (air)

- small moonstone

And here she is in use!

Alternatives for Jars in Witchcraft

So jar spells seem to be a dime a dozen (and I love them as much as anyone)  but I was going through my witchy supplies the other day and I was baffled with how much space was taken up by empty jars I’ve never got round to filling and making into a proper jar spell. I’ve realised I use other methods of containing spells far more frequently, for the times I don’t want the residual sweetness of nutella to influence my spell.

So I present to you alternatives to jars. They will contain your spell just as well, some might even be better suited.

1) Cardboard box. Tampon box, cereal box, cereal bar box, I was presented a wine stopper in a box with a window on the front of the box and got very excited. All 100% degradable and thus suitable for any spells you wish to bury outside. Also very flammable for the spells you want to burn.

2) Tupperware tubs. (Or if you’re thrifty, margarine/ice cream tubs, or take away tubs)

3)Toilet/kitch roll tubes (optional: sealed at the ends) also bury-able and burnable.

4) Empty biros! I’m especially thinking of this kind with the screw-on end. Carefully hold a flame where the nib pokes out the other end and you have a tiny vial of spell. This will also help cut down on any ingredient wastage & is very hide-able if you’d rather folk not know you’re practising.

5) Candy/mints tin - usually included in posts to say gr8 for travel altar/on the go witching. Also good for spell!

6) Also if you want to mavguiver lids you can use the tins from tinned food. Or yoghurt pots! (little ones especially that don’t usually come with lids you can put back on)

7) Empty bottles! Wine bottles, booze bottles in general, soda, milk, bottled drinks far and wide. These also have a nice capacity for becoming a rattle if you like to use sound in your practise, milk bottles especially, since it’s not usually practical to completely fill a big 6L capacity milk bottle.

8) Pill boxes. Whether you’re someone who takes meds on a daily basis or not, pill boxes also sometimes have times of day/days of the week printed on them, if you want to work a spell at a specific time or day, or if your working goes on over consecutive days.

9)Again if you want to Macgyver lids, the lids of aerosols like hairspray and deodorant make handy little containers.

10) Jewellry boxes - if your spell requires a little glitz and/or glamour, a velvet lined jewellry box and your finest jewels for neighbours might give it a bit of a kick. *See point 15*

11) Music boxes - similar to jewellry boxes, bonus twinkly plinky plonky music for added Vibe. Again, if you’re into using sound this is a gr8 option.

12) Pockets! With a little sewing know how, you can cut the pockets out of old clothes and sew them shut and use them to contain your spell. Depending on what clothes you cannibalise for this, there can be some added interesting associations that might be applicable to your spells - what better way to honour your old favourite knackered pair of jeans than to take the pockets and use them to contain an everyday safety and comfort spell?

13) old lip balm/lipstick containers - if you ever in your life get to finish an entire chapstick or lipstick. Again, it being something you used frequently can add to the spell. Also, depending on flavour there can be added associations. Alternatively, finding one you bought and never use and gutting it of its contents to make it a spell container can be pretty symbolic.

14) Lip balm/vaseline pocket tins - similar to the candy tins, but again i’d be tempted to use these tins for perhaps a glamour.

15) zip lock bags - These are handy as well because you might be hesitant to fill your jewelry box/music box with herbs etc. Stick ‘em in a zip lock bag, stick the bag in the box. boosh. Draw a sigil on the bag in a sharpie and you’ve got yourself LAYERS of spell!

16) Envelopes - they’re pennies.  Floatable, burnable, buryable, you can write on them with anything, scribble sigils, whatever. my go-to for literally everything.

Jars do not have the monopoly on being great at containing spells, friends. Please do add on anything you can think of that I’ve missed.

See this tiny vial of red powder? That is artisanal hand-grown paprika. I grew the plant from a seed, pollinated the blossoms, picked the pepper, dried it, and ground it. 

I HAVE MADE PAPRIKA! Like…a quarter teaspoon of it. 

But there is a second pepper ripening! And I have planted the seeds from the first pepper. 


Sea witch altar set and ocean key - available on etsy

This altar set is for those who feel a strong connection to water and the ocean. Using these items for meditation will help you draw power from the ocean even when you’re land-locked. As an offering set it will help you in water-based magick and worship of Sea Gods.

The wand’s shaft of the wand is made of pine driftwood (9cm) and finished with a tip made of a crab claw (7cm long!). Both were found on the beach and are naturally charged.

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Familiar Binding Spell 🐾

A spell meant to strengthen the bond between a person and their familiar. 

Items required:

  • Safely harvested fur, whiskers, or toenail clippings from your familiar 
    • (do not trim whiskers off of your pet, they are vital sensory tools for animals - if one happens to naturally fall out, that’s fine)
  • Your own hair or fingernail clippings
  • A crystal (or crystal chips) of your choice - personally, I would use Snowflake Obsidian because it reminds me of the markings on my bunny
  • Dried basil
  • Sea salt
  • A tiny jar or vial 
  • Brown thread or string 


  1. Add the taglocks for yourself and your familiar to the jar - if you can manage to actually tie the two together with string beforehand then that’s another viable option 
  2. Next, add the crystal you chose and a pinch of basil (love and protection) and sea salt (charging) as you focus on your intent 
  3. Seal the jar, wrap the brown string/thread around the neck of the jar, and tie it off
  4. Can be worn, carried on your person, or displayed somewhere you can always see it

I visited Jo-Ann’s (the fabric and craft store) today and saw all these nifty containers that would be so cool for spells & charms! The tiny vials were only about 2in tall & were super cute! I particularly liked the corked domes, they’d look pretty cool for jars that include small crystals or something. The bottom domes & pocket watches both have a loop so you could put them on a necklace which could be cool for charms, though they don’t seal like the others do.
Just wanted to share with my fellow Tumblr witches since I always see people asking where to find stuff like this 😊

Mad Science

Finally, it was done. 8 years of research, months of preparation, and a menagerie of deceased mice, but at last he held in his hand the formula that he had sought for most of his adult life. Dr. Walker felt an incredible excitement building within him as he inspected the tiny vial. He was so close to realizing his dream that he could almost taste it, taking all his willpower to stop himself from downing the vial’s contents right then and there. No, mad scientist he may be, however he was not so mad as to administer a still as of yet unproven cocktail to himself without any kind of human testing.

Unfortunately for him, this formula was being done off the books, without any knowledge of the university, so he couldn’t just announce his findings to the world and start human trials. Jon also knew he couldn’t simply spike someone’s drink with the formula to observe the results. If it proved toxic he’d have to hide a body, a subject he had skipped in his mad scientist studies and had no idea how to handle. If it proved effective, the unwitting dupe would likely be largely upset at the outcome, and he wasn’t so sure he would be able to remove all evidence that would lead back to him anyway. He would have to find a guinea pig that was as enthused about his results as he was, but also willing to sacrifice some safety to achieve his goal.

Fortunately, the internet was a vast place, and home to many, many diverse interests.

Mikey was sauntering home after morning classes. The fall leaves were just beginning to turn red and brown, and he was already feeling slightly overwhelmed as assignments piled up at the beginning of his sophomore year. Things like cooking and eating healthy had long since gone out the window, as the freshly punched notches on his belt could attest. However, Mikey wasn’t exactly distressed at these developments, and he made his way back to his dorm already salivating at the thought of a frozen pizza lunch. Maybe even two pizzas, he thought, giving his small belly a pat.

Finally reaching his dorm, he kicked off his shoes, gave a courteous hello to his dorm-mates, dropped off his pack in his room, then made his way to the shared kitchen to pop the tops on two frozen pizzas. Safely set to bake for 20 minutes, he made his way back to his room to sit down, check his email, and surf the usual sites. Homework could wait until after lunch.

He’d always loved food. He’d always loved eating, but more than that, Mikey wanted to grow, to become huge, the biggest he could ever be. Growing up in a very health-conscious household had meant there’d never really been the opportunity to truly pig out. Now that Mikey had left the nest, he was going to make the most of his new-found freedom and eat whenever and whatever he wanted, and finally realize his dream of becoming bigger. He’d already gained the freshman 15 and then some, and was well on his way to packing away the sophomore thirty. A few more weeks and he’d have to buy bigger pants.

Still, progress was too slow for his liking; he wanted to get big, now. Luckily the internet was a big place, filled with many diverse interest. After checking his email, Mikey logged into Gnosher to check his messages there. Mikey had stumbled across the gainer community some years ago, and was surprised to find out there were a lot of people that actually shared his desires. Gnosher was just one such site where people could congregate, share tips, and just generally encourage one another to grow as big as they wanted. Mikey was in touch with several inspiring individuals, and he scrolled through a few messages congratulating him on nearly outgrowing his belt.

The message that caught his eye today was something he’d never received before. There was the usual congratulations for his steady gains, but after that was the question, “How would you like to get much much bigger, much much faster?” It sounded like he was going to be given a pitch for some sort of new weight gain protein mix, something that Mikey had so far avoided on a university budget, but he was intrigued enough to at least reply back asking for the details. Already putting it out of his mind and finishing up his online perusal, he made his way back to the kitchen to begin scarfing his now cooked pizzas.

Upon re-entering his room, Mikey was surprised to see on his still open Gnosher page that he’d already gotten a reply. Curiosity won out over hunger, and he clicked the message open to read it. It turned out the writer was a local, working at the university, and he’d been working on a weight gain formula that was now ready for human testing. After reading Mikey’s profile, he thought he’d be eager to take part in trials, and was wondering if he’d like to sign up. It all seemed too good to be true, and Mikey felt a healthy dose of skepticism, but once again curiosity won out and Mikey replied with positive enthusiasm. Again, a few short minutes later, he was provided instructions to come to professor Jon Walker’s lab this afternoon and he’d be given further instructions.

Bewildered, but excited, Mikey quickly ate his pizzas, stowed his homework for later this evening, and made his way to the Biotechnology building where professor Walker’s lab was.

Now he wondered if he truly was mad. Test the formula here? Now? And with a student here at the university? What if something went wrong? What if the boy screamed and went to the authorities? Or worse, what if it killed him? How would he drag a body out of this office, in the middle of the afternoon? The more the professor fraught and fretted the more insane he thought his plan to be. How could he let his own ego get the better of him to do something so reckless?

Professor Walker sighed, and slumped back behind his desk, the image of a young sophomore still displayed on his screen. Brown hair, blue eyes, boyish looks, and a budding belly; who was he kidding? It wasn’t just his ego that made him message this boy. A life devoted to science had left the professor desperately lonely, and he had jumped at the chance of not only fulfilling his life’s work, but also actually meeting someone with the same desires as his own. He sighed again at his own folly, but at the same time there was the building fire of anticipation. What if it all worked?

“Professor Walker?”

The voice was quiet, coming from the other end of the lab adjoining his office. Steeling himself, he put on his best professor face, and walked out the door to greet his subject.

“Professor?” Mikey called out, wondering if the professor may still be on lunch, but after a few moments he heard a bustling from the small office next to the lab, and then a small, bespectacled, middle-aged man walked out to greet him.

“Ah, Michael, so good you could make it,” he said warmly, extending his hand in greeting.

Mikey took the hand and shook. “Thank you for contacting me. I was surprised that this was something the university even studied.”

“Indeed, the biotechnology laboratory has many concurrent studies being done.”

“I’m in computer sciences, so I had no idea. I’d have certainly signed up if this was a posted study! So, do I have to sign anything?”

The professor paused and them seemed to stammer nervously. “Ah, yes, well, this is something of a personal passion of mine. Off the school’s records, so to speak.”

Mikey raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So… what is it? Some sort of new protein powder?”

“No no no, nothing of the sort. What I have created is a chemical formula able to completely alter the subjects fundamental genetics in such a way that it’s almost like they’re a new person.”

“That sounds… a little dangerous? Look, I’d like to fill out, not become a totally different person.” Mikey said, taking a caution half-step back.

“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry, I misspoke. The formula doesn’t change everything, like your hair or eye colour, but actually targets and edits some very specific genes. You’ve heard of course of certain ethnicities being more prone to weight gain and obesity?”

“You mean like, Samoans?” Mikey offered, still skeptical.

“Yes, precisely, very good! Polynesian men simply have higher percentage of adipose tissue than the general population. What my formula does is take those specific genome sequences and edits them into the host, essentially changing their heritage slightly, but without changing anything else like skin or hair colour.” Mikey was about to reply, but the professor exuberantly continued, “But that’s just one example of what the formula does; obesity is a much more complex syndrome than any one gene. There is also the hereditary genetics passed from parents and especially the mother, there is epigenetics when a child is overweight and carries that weight into puberty and then adulthood - all these things are contained and subtly changed in this formula. It’s truly a marvel, if I do say so myself!” Concluded the professor, clearly proud of himself.

“But you haven’t tested it on people yet.” Mikey added flatly.

The professor seemed to shrink bank in on himself. “Well, no, not as of yet, that’s why you’re here of course. However, studies on laboratory animals have been very promising.”

“Like, how promising?”

“98% of subjects have doubled their initial mass after ingestion.”

“And the other 2%?”

“Um, well most of the rest were simply ineffective, and a statistically insignificant percentage suffered mild cardiac events.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “How insignificant?”

“It was one. Out of hundreds of subjects,” the professor grumped. “I have a defibrillator in my office. I promise you this will be perfectly safe.”

Mikey crossed his arms, but a coy smile crept into his face. “Doubled their mass, huh?”

The professor nodded. “Yes, that’s what my studies showed.”

“Alright then, how do we do this?”

The professor visibly relaxed, and then beamed enthusiasm once more. “Splendid! Well, first, we’ll take a measurement so we have a baseline comparison of course. Take off your shoes and jacket and follow me.” Professor Walker then made his way back to his office, and Mikey quickly kicked off his shoes and jacket and followed him in. “Please close the door behind you, would you?” Mikey did, and then lay his shoes and jacket on the floor near the door.

Once inside the professor moved to a physician’s scale and motioned for Mikey to get on. “Now please remove your effects and we’ll weigh you in.” This brought Mikey up short, but he brought his shirt over his head, undid his belt and slid out of his jeans, and lay the pile of clothes near the door with his shoes and jacket. The professor coughed slightly and waved a hand at Mikey’s groin, “and your boxers I’m afraid.”

“What- why?”

Wringing his hands, professor Walker replied, “well, you could keep them on, but it will likely become very uncomfortable quite soon.”

This made Mikey’s eyes widen, but he obeyed and woodenly removed his boxers, standing there naked, hands over his groin. The display of modesty made professor Walker chuckle. “Now now, don’t feel embarrassed. I am a doctor, after all.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your doctorate in?” Mikey shot back.

The professor shrugged. “Molecular biology, but I’d like to think I’d bring the same level of professionalism and courtesy as an MD.”

Mikey snarked, but removed his hands and made his way to get on the scale. The professor wasn’t sure what the young man had to be ashamed of; the boy was more than adequately hung. Impressively hung, even.

Moving behind Mikey, Dr. Walker moved the scale’s weights back and forth, slowly zeroing in on the young man’s weight, while surreptitiously sneaking glances at his subject’s form. An average frame, but possessing a certain softness and a rounded middle suggesting the boy had been skipping the gym and snacking a little too much during late-night study sessions. This, along with his shyness, made him absolutely adorable. It almost made the professor regret the circumstances by which he’d found the boy naked in his office. Almost.

“About 220 pounds, or thereabouts,” the professor announced, and then marked it down on a paper on his desk. Then, he reached into a drawer in his desk, retrieved a small vial of blue liquid and grandly announced, “Now for the fun part, as they say!”

Mikey gulped. He was really doing this. If this worked, he’d put every other gainer on Gnosher to shame. If it didn’t, well, it probably wouldn’t kill him. Hopefully. “Do I just drink it?”

“Indeed, my boy, indeed,” he said handing the vial over to the young man.

Mikey sighed, “Well, here goes,” and drank the vial in one gulp. He stood there for a few moments, not sure what he was expecting to feel, before finally asking, “so how long does this stuff take?”

“Well, in mice it was metabolized in approximately 5 minutes or so. There’s no rushing science,” the professor added, waggling his finger for scholarly emphasis.

Mikey was beginning to wonder if the professor put on this much of a show during his classes, when he started to feel a wave of warmth build up inside, before gently crashing over him, only to do it again moments later. “Uh, professor? I feel something.”

“Yes? How do you feel? Describe the sensation.”

“Uh, warm? Like I have a fever, only it’s in my stomach. And something- urgh!” Mikey doubled over, clutching his stomach in pain, but while he did he found there was more stomach to clutch, and after a moment there was more still. His belly was rounding out more and more, the flesh expanding beneath his fingers like an inflating ball.

“Michael, are you alright?” Dr. Walker sounded genuinely alarmed and took a step forward, however Mikey waved him off and slowly righted himself. As he did he took a slight stumbling step backwards, causing the newly formed flesh of his belly to jiggle slightly. The completely alien sensation of a part of him moving well after he had stopped made his eyes widen in astonishment.

“Oh man, this is happening! I’m getting bigger!” Mikey exclaimed, ecstatic, all pain forgotten as he grabbed his belly to bounce and jiggle it in his hands. In moments it was large enough to have a fold over his waist, and he could lift and drop it with a faint slap of flesh meeting flesh. Then, another wave of heat, this time diffuse and all-encompassing, but without any pain at all. Mikey let it wash over him in rapt anticipation.

For his part, Dr. Walker was even more ecstatic than Mikey was. It was working! This boy was blimping up before his very eyes!  First in the gut, but he could see the rest of him was slowly catching up. His previously flat chest was budding into a pair of perky man tits, tiny areolas stretching wider as his new mammaries inflated with soft flesh. His entire chest now began to rise outwards like inflating dough, the skin softening with adipose as it accumulated beneath it. The softness then spread to his shoulders, down his arms, then up his neck and face, all of it becoming noticeably thicker with growth. In moments the boy had a double chin, round moon cheeks, and a fold of flesh at the back of his neck just where his short brown hair tapered off.

Soon It seemed as though his body was reaching capacity as folds and creases were appearing beneath his chest, arms and arm-pits, the billowing fat unable to be contained beneath the skin. It was then that the growth changed tack, now causing his frame to visibly broaden. Dr. Walker could almost hear the creak of bones as his hips, shoulders and torso enlarged and expanded, making him wide, heavy-set, and barrel chested. The folds of flesh disappeared momentarily as the fat spread out to cover the enlarging canvas, but soon reappeared as the expansion of his skeleton slowed, only now much further apart. With wider hips, Mikey was forced to shuffle his feet and widen his stance, thicker feet now splayed diagonally in order to balance the heavier load.

Mikey could not have been happier feeling each new curve and roll, each new bounce and jiggle as his frame packed on more and more and more. He rubbed his hands over his torso over and over, each time the sensation bringing something new, and becoming intensely erotic. He could tell between his much wider set thighs and beneath his protruding middle he was becoming aroused in front of an audience, but he was too turned on to care. He was getting everything he’d ever wanted all at once, and he was more than happy to ignore a spectator and simply enjoy each new sensation as he grew.

As incredibly erotic as the whole scene was for Mikey, it was even more so for Dr. Walker. The adorable young man was becoming the hunk of his dreams right in front of him, and it was becoming increasingly obvious as the well hung cock began to stiffen and rise to it’s full length, almost slapping the belly hanging above it. It really was impressive, and the sight of this hulking tank blissfully rubbing his chest and belly while his huge cock bounced beneath was more than enough to get the good professor hard as steel in his slacks.

“Oh god, this feels sooo goood,” Mikey moaned, hands never leaving his torso, and the professor could see a drop of pre began to form at the tip of his now turgid member. Doctor Walker was working up the nerve to reach out and touch the leaking organ, when he noticed Mikey’s growth was now redirecting south, his legs, ass and feet puffing up and filling out. Within moments each of his thunder thighs were the size of a normal man’s waist, but unlike the billowy flab of his torso each lower limb was a near solid ham as Mikey’s musculature became better able to handle the heavy burden he’d be carrying from now on. The only exception to this seemed to be his glutes, which not only blew up to this size of two basketballs but also retained a certain wobbliness, the massive globes fighting for space on Mikey’s backside.

Another moan brought the professor’s attention back to the young man’s groin. As each thigh grew thicker they began to press together, leaving less and less space for Mikey’s nuts. Each ball was now stretching the scrotum so thin the veins were clearly visible, and the professor was concerned if he didn’t do something the skin might tear. However, his concerns were expunged as just like the rest of his skin it stretched and grew, letting each teste rest lower and lower until they dangled halfway to his knees. It was then the professor noticed each teste not only sagged lower in a far more loose and dangly scrotum, but seemed larger than before, having gone from quail eggs to those of large chickens. This was certainly not something he had programmed into the formula, however he wasn’t complaining.

Fat began to accumulate in the boy’s groin, swallowing up more and more of the leaking spire, making it appear inches shorter than when he had walked into the office earlier. Yet as the professor leaned in to better observe the changes, he noticed he’d been wrong. Not only had the fat of the man’s pubis swallowed much of his length, his cock had indeed lost a fair bit of circumference, seeming much less massive than before. In moments the young man’s member was much more modest in size, and with the rest of him having grown so large it seemed seemed almost small. Mikey’s burgeoning middle prevented him from seeing this new development, and judging by the blissed out expression still painted all over his face he didn’t seem to notice, or care, about his loss in manhood. The professor hoped the expansion of the boy’s testicles would make up for it.

The complete alteration in frame, shape and the arrangement of fat on the body was all expected and shown in previous testing on laboratory mice, but the changes in his genitalia were never something the professor investigated in his previous trials. With these unexpected developments, the professor began to look out for other unintended side effects of the formula. Stepping back, he took stock of the much larger man Mikey was becoming. He was easily over 350 pounds, and while the growth of his skeletal structure and musculature seemed to have stopped, he could see the accumulation of adipose was still going strong. The boy’s face was nearly circular, chubby cheeks rounding out into a prominent double chin, that seemed to flow into the inflating chest, the young man’s neck having been swallowed up by the expanding tides of flesh. His chest had expanded from perky breasts to much larger man-mammaries, now sagging under their own weight, each eraser-head capped peak propped up by the tremendous tank below it. And what a tank it was, having gone from mere cask to barrel in the intervening period. Framed by love handles as thick as bread loafs and beginning to surge over the boy’s waist, it was a sight to behold. Mikey was more than enamoured with it as he jiggled and grabbed his wobbling middle, oblivious to the world and all that was happening around him.

“Eyes up here, professor.”

Or so Dr. Walker thought, but now Mikey was staring right at him, hands cupping each breast so they would squish into a provocative bosom. Above them the round, boyish face was just as provocative, a sly smile painted on his lips. “I see you’re enjoying the show,” he remarked, eyes pointedly looking at the obvious tent in the professor’s slacks.

For the first time that afternoon it was the professor who felt embarrassed, like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He floundered, mouth moving but no words coming out, only stopping once Mikey swayed much larger hips. He gulped, frozen, his entire being overcome by lust. Finally Mikey walked towards him, his gait now an odd swagger as each titanic thigh was forced to move circularly around the other with every step. His entire body shook with each lumbering foot fall, an earthquake of flesh growing larger with each passing moment.

Mikey reached him and just stood there, belly mere inches from bumping the professor backward, seductive eyes still staring into his. Then the professor felt something soft and warm pressing into his torso and groin; it was Mikey’s belly. It had surged forward in the few seconds he’d been standing in front of him, and now his belly sagged enough that the lowest portions were rubbing against the professor’s hardon. Mikey tittered and then swayed his hips again, the soft flesh seeming to caress his aching cock.

“Why don’t you touch it?” He asked, grasping the professor’s arm to bring it to the warm flesh of his side. It was so soft, so smooth, his hand sinking in as he pressed further, encouraged by the now colossal college student. After sinking in an inch the two moaned simultaneously, the professor unable to hold himself back any longer. He brought his mouth down to smash into the young man’s chest, lips and tongue seeking the enormous nipple atop the pendulous moobs, slathering saliva all over the pale expanse before finally latching on to suckle with abandon. The professor’s free hands grasped and fondled the yielding fat of Mikey’s belly while he stood there, an unmoving edifice, moaning appreciatively as the older man worshipped his voluminous form.

Had the professor been paying attention he may have noticed the change in tone that had come over Mikey. His manner towards Dr. Walker was mostly ambivalent earlier, but now he was gratefully accepting his unbridled lust with eager enthusiasm. However the professor was beyond thinking rationally at this point. He licked and nibbled and bit the meat of Mikey’s chest, groping at his belly and love-handles as far as he could reach, noticing how hard it was to reach the entire circumference of his waist. He licked lower and lower on the mountainous middle, mashing his face as far into the yielding fat as it would go, eventually descending to his knees, a worshipper having reached mecca. Finally, he reached up to lift the tremendous belly to view the prize now hidden beneath the cascading tide of flesh.

Mikey was already hard as a rock from the professor’s attention, however even at full mast, and even considering the exorbitant flesh that surrounded it, he could tell that Mikey had lost much of his impressive length and girth. Even with his hand pressing against his now impressive fat pad, Mikey extended perhaps 4 inches at best. Resting the behemoth belly on his forehead, the professor leaned into the hot, humid groin to swallow Mikey whole.

He wasn’t sure how the professor was able to deep-throat him, but Mikey couldn’t deny it felt amazing. While the professor eagerly took his entire length over and over, Mikey stood with legs splayed, playing with each doughy breast and the huge nipples at their ends. He knew he was enormous now, larger than he’d ever thought he could gain naturally, and it felt so good to push and fondle and mold his own body, the feeling of size and weight and power. He began to thrust into the professor’s mouth, each movement causing his entire body to quake while sending his pendulous balls to slap into the professor’s chin.

For Mikey each thrust was the barest jerk forward, but for Dr. Walker it had the momentum of over 450 pounds of man bearing down on his face. The first thrust nearly knocked him over, causing him to lose his grip on the colossal belly, smothering him in a tidal wave of fat. He recovered though, and redoubled his efforts, both hands now holding up the prodigious paunch while meeting the next thrust with his open and accepting mouth.

The slap of Mikey’s balls on the professor’s chin filled the office, and while Mikey found he was able to thrust as easily as he could when he was thin, he was working up a substantial sweat after only a few minutes. Liquid dripped on his nose and forehead to gather into rivulets formed on the vast expanse of chest and belly, and he could only imagine how the pressor felt beneath the horizon of his middle.

The professor was more concerned with simply holding on, and only noticed the taste of precum on his lips as Mikey’s thrusting picked up pace. Each battering of balls and groin meat left him covered in the fat man’s sweat. However, the enormous, dangling orbs (that would surely leave bruises once this was over) were beginning to pull upward, and he knew Mikey’s climax was imminent.

Mikey knew he couldn’t last. The professor’s magic mouth took him to the root with each thrust, and the feeling of his entire body jiggling in tune with his lovemaking was simply beyond words. With a bellowing moan, Mikey squeezed each of his love-handles as hard as he could and came.

Even though he could feel the twitching of the dick in his mouth and the ascent of the gigantic balls, the professor was completely unprepared for the torrent of cum that gushed forth from Mikey’s diminished manhood. The first gush filled his mouth completely, while the second overfilled it, and the third made jizz come sputtering out comically from his nose and mouth. The sound of Mikey’s seed splattering on the linoleum floor of the professor’s office was more akin to a dropped cup of coffee than the missed remnants of an impromptu blowjob, and the professor wondered if this was yet another side effect of the formula or if the young man had possessed this ability all along.

After what seemed an eternity, the gushing of Mikey’s geyser slowed to a trickle, giving the professor time to swallow and, more importantly, breathe. He fell backward on his ass, the propped-up belly falling forward and jiggling Mikey’s front while the last drops of his orgasm fell to join the small puddle that had formed beneath him. He calmed down and took stock of his enormity once more, and sighed a deep, satisfied sound.

“Looks like your formula worked, professor.”

Still catching his breath, the good doctor could only manage, “Evidently.”

Mikey wobbled back to the professor’s desk, his lumbering gait somewhat more awkward than a man of his size already would be as he was getting used to his vastness. Noticing something, he bent sideways and picked up a distinct blue vial. “You know professor, there seems to be enough formula left for one more.”

The professor thought about it for a moment, acknowledging mentally that neither he nor his young charge had any clothes that would fit and would have to trundle home, jiggling and naked. He’d have to provide some sort of explanation to his friends and colleagues, and he could even be subjecting himself to the same sort of bizarre mental changes and even possible alterations of his genitalia as the deity of excess that was beckoning him onward.

He downed the vial without a second thought, and as he grew and burst from his clothes, Mikey fondling and groping each new roll as it appeared on his body, he knew without doubt that this was the climax of his professional career.


My canon knowledge of Veritaserum is pretty rough so this is probably not how it works but the plot bunnies invaded and I had to write it anyway. Y’know because every fandom needs more Harry Potter AUs…*

Mainly Sprace with some Javid for good measure :)

When Davey and Jack sat down at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall Davey looked terrified and exasperated and Jack looked smug. It wasn’t actually that out of the ordinary for them so no one gave them a second look until their whispered conversation could be overheard.

“You shouldn’t have done it. Jack, this is serious. You could get expelled,” Davey hissed desperately, trying to keep his voice down so no one would hear him. Jack had been an idiot but he didn’t actually want his boyfriend to get kicked out of school.

“What did Jack do now?” Race asked, rolling his eyes. There was never a shortage of things Jack had done that could be classed as stupid, and a good third of them could probably get him expelled if the wrong person found out about them.

Davey just shook his head, not wanting to repeat it, but Jack himself grinned and leaned closer.

“So we were making Veritaserum in potions and ours was perfect,” he started, sounding very proud of himself.

“No thanks to you,” Davey interjected.

Jack blew Davey a kiss in appreciation of his boyfriend’s potions skills before continuing his story.

“They told us not to keep any, obviously, but…” Jack withdrew a tiny vial from his pocket with only a few drops of what could have been water in it. It was only about enough for one dose but that would still get him in more trouble than anyone wanted to consider.

The reactions of their little group of friends was mixed. Davey covered the vial with his own hand, urging Jack to put it back in his pocket before someone saw. Crutchie got up wordlessly and walked away; he was absolutely not going to get involved in illegal potions. Blink and Race shared Jack’s grin, leaning in and dreaming up schemes of exactly what they could do with that potion. Mush shook his head, turning away a little and blocking out the rest of the conversation so he’d have plausible deniability.

“Jack, please, get rid of it,” Davey begged. It was his potion too and, considering he knew exactly what had happened when Jack took it from their cauldron, he was undoubtedly going to be questioned when Jack was dragged into the headmistress’ office. “I am not visiting you in Azkaban.”

“No one is going to arrest me, you dork,” he sighed, poking Davey in the arm. “They let us brew it at school.”
“And then they confiscate it and threaten us with expulsion if we’re found with any,” Davey insisted. He was terrified of dementors and he didn’t want Jack to be surrounded by them for the foreseeable future.

Jack just shrugged. “So I won’t get found,” he said, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You know they do random searches after Veritaserum classes,” Race pointed out. “And we all know you’d be a prime ‘random’ candidate.”

Everyone was nodding, some more fervently than others, and eventually Jack sighed and gave in.

“Okay, fine,” he groaned. Taking the vial out again and hiding it in his hand, he tipped the few drops of liquid into a discarded water goblet. “Happy? It’s gone.”

Davey visibly relaxed, all the tension draining from his body as he sighed and pressed a grateful kiss to Jack’s cheek.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, offering a small smile when Jack kissed him back.

The moment was interrupted when Race threw a bread roll at Jack’s head. “Stop canoodling,” he complained.

Jack kissed Davey again out of spite, only pulling back when Davey pushed him back gently.

“Later?” he asked, grinning when Davey ducked his head to hide a blush and nodded. They’d become well acquainted with places in the school they could make out without getting caught by faculty or nosy students. Jack turned his attention to Race. “You’re only mad because Spot doesn’t want to ‘canoodle’ with you.”

Race’s face went scarlet, half from anger and half from embarrassment. Everyone in their friendship group knew he had a stupid crush on his best friend, except Spot himself, and they’d all learnt not to bring it up but Jack just had to rock the boat.

“Shut up,” Race hissed.

It was just his luck that that was the moment Spot slumped down beside them, his muscles aching from hours of self-imposed Quidditch practice. He was the best seeker Slytherin had had in years and he was determined to keep it that way. Race fought to get his blush under control, trying not to think about how good Spot looked in the old Quidditch uniform he used for practice.

“Why’s Race a tomato?” Spot asked, eloquent as ever as he grabbed the nearest water goblet and downed it. Practice was thirsty work and he’d gone straight to meet his friends.

It was only after he’d already swallowed that Davey realised exactly what he’d just drank.

“Shit,” he breathed, getting everyone’s attention with rare bad language.

Spot froze. “What?” he asked, laughing nervously. He looked down at the goblet, trying to work out what was so bad about it.

“Spot, I’m so sorry,” Jack stammered, and that made everything even worse.

With so much out of character behavior, Spot got worried.

“What did you do?” he demanded, clenching his fists.

“I didn’t mean for you… or anyone…” Jack tried, before realising he had to just say it. “It’s Veritaserum. There was Veritaserum in that water.”

Suddenly there was fear in Spot’s eyes. He was the most guarded person Jack had ever met, so he could understand why everyone suddenly having the power to take whatever information they wanted from him was terrifying. Every secret and every emotion he kept suppressed suddenly became just one question away from public knowledge and Spot had never felt so vulnerable. There was so much he never talked about - how his family had treated him before he’d left for Hogwarts, how they still treated him when he went back for summers; how he’d realised he was interested in guys and kept it quiet, even though he’d managed to make friends with the queerest bunch of people to ever exist, because if his father ever found out he’d never live to so much as kiss a boy; how he spent night after night working on essays and assignments that took everyone else only a couple of hours because his childhood education had been so poor he’d barely known how to write when he got to Hogwarts. None of his secrets were anyone else’s business and the fact that they could fall off his tongue at any second made him want to run and hide.

“Don’t talk to me,” he demanded.

“It’s okay,” Katherine tried to reassure him. “We won’t ask you anything, but you don’t have to hide things from us. You know that, right?”

The question was out before she’d even realised she’d phrased it as such and before she could apologise Spot was filled with a numbing compulsion to answer. It wasn’t painful but it was impossible to fight and before he could get away, he was talking.

“There are things I can’t tell any of you. Especially not Race.”

Spot yelped in protest and pressed his hand over his own mouth, trying to clamp his jaw shut. Why had he had to mention Race? His best friend was now looking at him, hurt, from across the table and Spot knew what was coming next.

“Especially not me? What? Why?” Race asked, before he had time to think.

Spot fought the urge to say because I love you. It was the truth and it was choking him, forcing the words up to his mouth, but he swallowed it back with every bit of self-control he could summon and replaced it with something else equally as true but less damaging.

“You’d hate me,” he mumbled, fighting back tears at how horrible this felt. If he hadn’t known why Veritaserum was so fiercely controlled before, he knew now. This was torture.

“Stop asking me shit,” he growled, climbing to his feet. He wasn’t going to sit around and just wait for this to end, he couldn’t.

Jack got up, too. They were both in the same house so it made sense for him to go with Spot but he was met with a glare that could melt iron.

“Don’t you dare,” he ordered. He did not want to see Jack’s face for at least a week. It may have been an accident, but it was still his fault.

Sitting down diligently, Jack muttered another apology. There was a beat of silence before Spot turned and fled from the hall. He’d gotten as far as the stairs that led down to the dungeons when a hand tapped him on the back. Whirling around, ready to punch whoever was following him in the jaw, Spot found Race miming zipping his lips shut and waving awkwardly. There was clearly a question in his eyes and Spot groaned and nodded.

“You can come, just don’t say anything.”
In hindsight it was a bad idea. Race was the person he was keeping the most secrets from, so he had the most to lose with him around. But Race was also his best friend and his favourite person in the world and if anyone could make Spot feel less afraid, it was him. So he let Race accompany him to the Slytherin dormitories, ignoring the confused stares they got passing through the common room with Race in Gryffindor uniform. House rivalries weren’t what they used to be but the brashness with which their friendship group ignored all house boundaries was still a little taboo.

When they got to the sixth-year boys dorm room Spot collapsed on his bed and hid his face in his pillow, trying not to cry. This felt awful and he was finally alone, because Race was so familiar he didn’t count, and he just wanted to die rather than keep enduring it.

“Are you okay?” Race asked gently, breaking his vow of silence because he’d never seen Spot look so small and destroyed.

The aching compulsion was back but Spot didn’t even try to fight it. The answer was already clear anyway.

“No,” he admitted, miserably. “Don’t ask me any questions. Please,” he said, closer to begging than he was comfortable with but desperate for this to all just stop.

“I won’t. No more, I promise,” Race said, holding up his hands in defeat.

He sat on the edge of Spot’s bed, trying to figure out how best to help him. He thought back to all the times he’d seen Jack run his hands through Davey’s hair, when he’d fallen asleep studying or was napping with his head on Jack’s thigh in the common room, and wondered what it would be like to do that to Spot. His hair was longer than Davey’s, loose over his ears and at the nape of his neck, and Race could imagine it so vividly. Would Spot like it? Definitely not, he decided. Because they weren’t together and he didn’t have any right to be touching him so intimately. Still, it took sitting on his hands to stop himself reaching out.

When Race had been silent for a few long moments Spot turned to look at him, barely peeking one eye above the cushion.

“Just…” he sighed, “Just go away. Until it wears off, please.” He wanted Race with him, it was endlessly comforting, but he couldn’t trust himself not to do or say something stupid.

Race was happy to do whatever made Spot feel comfortable, getting up from the bed and heading towards the door. But something made him stop.
“Spot…” he tried, carefully.
“What did I just say?” Spot groaned in response, throwing a pillow in his direction and missing by a good couple of feet.
“I know…” Race sighed. There was a good chance Spot was going to hate him for this, but he had to know. “It’s just… In the Hall you said…”

That got Spot’s attention. He sat up fast, desperation written plainly across his face.

“Don’t!” he pleaded, but that just confirmed Race’s suspicions. There was something Spot wasn’t telling him, something important, and they were meant to be friends. Spot knew everything about him, except the fact he was painfully and irrevocably in love with him, and shouldn’t that go both ways? Taking a deep breath to steel himself for Spot’s fury, Race asked the question.

“Do you have something you need to tell me?”

It hung in the air and suddenly Race wanted to take it back. Spot visibly shattered, knowing there was no way out of this. There was nothing he wanted less than to lose his best friend but he wasn’t in control of his words. He knew there were ways, occlumency and antidotes, to stop the effects of Veritaserum but he wasn’t powerful enough to fight back and he didn’t have a remedy. Still, he tried. It was hardest he’d fought against the potion yet but it still wasn’t strong enough and that compulsion to speak the truth overwhelmed him and he had to give in before it tore his mind to shreds.
“Yes. I’m in love with you. I have been since third year,” he said, gasping through the words and hating every one of them. The second he’d said them he threw his arms up to cover his face, hiding in the crook of his elbow and grasping at the back of his neck to dig his nails in as punishment for not being good enough. He didn’t want Race to see the hot tears that were falling from his eyes; he’d never felt more out of control. “You’re a prick, Anthony Higgins,” he hissed, without looking up. “Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

“But I-”

“Get out,” he ordered. “Before I make you get out.” There was so much anger and hate in Spot’s voice that it was clear the only sensible option was to flee, so Race did.

As the door slammed behind him he heard a muffled and tearful ‘colloportus’ and he couldn’t make his legs move any further. Collapsing down in front of the door, Race rested his forehead on his knees. Spot loved him. Spot. Loved. Him. Those were words he really liked, especially in that order. He just wished he hadn’t found out like that. If he’d known what he was forcing from Spot he never would have… He’d have said it first, if there’d been a guarantee the feeling was mutual. Instead he’d taken the confession in the worst way possible; Spot probably didn’t even feel what he’d said anymore. And Race hadn’t even had the chance to say it back.

 It was half an hour before someone came to disturb Race. He scrubbed dried tear tracks from his cheeks as soon as he heard footsteps, attempting to look presentable, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to stand up. There was a very good chance his legs wouldn’t support him if he tried.

When Jack’s face appeared at the top of the stairs, Race just blinked at him, a little disorientated from being dragged from his own thoughts.

“Holding a vigil?” Jack asked, forcing a smile. He’d mostly been hoping Spot wouldn’t be in the dorm. It was probably best to stay away for a little bit but all his books were in there and Davey was making him study.
“He loves me,” was all Race could whisper. He hadn’t spoken to anyone yet and he just had to tell someone, to make it feel more real.

Jack cocked his head, confused and pretty sure he’d misheard.

“Come again?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Race shook his head. It wasn’t really his secret to tell, not yet and maybe not ever. It might not even be true anymore.

Jack knew when to push and when to move past something and this was definitely an occasion for the latter. He just shrugged and continued his initial line of questioning.

“Spot still in there?”

Race nodded. “He’s not talking to me.”

It wasn’t for lack of trying. He’d knocked on the door and called out Spot’s name a few times but all he got was verbal abuse. By now the Veritaserum had to have worn off, but he still hadn’t come out. The only idea Race had was to tell Spot he loved him back, but that really wasn’t a conversation he wanted to shout through a door if he could help it.
“Can I go in?” Jack asked. He’d been perfectly fine not doing his work and just watching Davey instead, but apparently that wasn’t going to do him any favours and he needed to stop gawping and go and get his arithmancy text book. And that text book was in the trunk at the end of his bed, currently guarded by a particularly irate dragon.

Race considered it. Maybe he could use Jack as a sacrifice so Spot could get out all his anger before they talked. But that didn’t seem particularly fair on Jack. And Davey would be mad if his boyfriend ended up dead.

“Probably unwise,” Race admitted. They needed someone Spot wouldn’t throw anything at, be it cushions or verbal abuse, someone who could keep their temper and actually makes things better, not worse. “Go get Davey.”

“On it,” Jack agreed, heading back to the library.

Davey showed up alone ten minutes later and Race couldn’t help but think that keeping Jack away was a good idea. He should probably keep himself away too but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave.

After patting Race on the shoulder and telling him things were going to be okay (Race had no idea what Jack had told him), Davey got on the task of sorting this whole mess out.

“Spot?” he said, knocking at the door gently.

An empty, miserable voice sounded back.
“Piss off, Race,” Spot whined. He didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of what he’d said.
“It’s not Race,” Davey promised.

He and Race held their breaths, waiting for a reply that finally came after a long wait.
“Come in and shut the door,” Spot sighed, giving in a little. Davey hadn’t done anything wrong.

Offering Race a reassuring smile, Davey cast alohomora on the locked door and went inside.

Race hated waiting. He understood that everything would be easier if Davey had calmed Spot down a little but he was itching to run his fingers through Spot’s hair. Whether was now or ever a possibility was still up in the air but he couldn’t help the desire to do it when they kissed and when Spot was sleeping against his side and just to brush the hair out of Spot’s face so he could see his eyes, because he was awfully prone to trying to hide them. Every second that he wasn’t allowed to do that was driving him crazy. He had to at least know if Spot would let him.

It was exactly eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds until Davey came back out the door - Race knew because he’d counted every single one of them. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes asking the question he didn’t know how to phrase. Davey just nodded and gestured to the room.

“Maybe keep your distance,” he warned, still not sure that Spot wouldn’t lash out if he got angry. “But he said he’ll talk to you.”

Not even sparing a moment to thank Davey, Race ran into the room. Spot was awkwardly stood beside his bed, hugging his arms against his chest like he was very aware of every part of his body. He still looked more broken than Race ever wanted to see him, but he didn’t look so mad anymore.

“I told you not to,” Spot sighed, defeated. There was nothing he could do about what he’d said now. It was his own fault for having the feelings in the first place, anyway.
“I know,” Race nodded, flinching. He felt so guilty. “I’m sorry. But…” He paused, trying to decide whether or not to do this. Considering there was very little chance of him making things worse, he took a deep breath and dove in. “I’m also not sorry. You’re right, you asked me not to and I did it anyway. But Spot, I… I love you too.”

That got Spot’s attention. He dropped his arms, stunned into silence as he stared at Race like he was suddenly alien to him. The eye contact was too awkward for Race to bear and he quickly looked away so all he saw was shadowy movement until Spot was stood in front of him, nudging his chin up with his thumb and kissing him before either of them could second-guess themselves. Race let out a small squeak that he would deny until his dying breath but as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth and realised exactly who he was making out with, his hand instinctively went to Spot’s hair. The sigh that elicited from Spot was the best thing Race had ever heard and he pledged himself to the cause of making it happen as many times as possible.

Nyx-Chapter 6

Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.

Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut

Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

“Friends? Truly? I know you’re old, sister, but I did not take you for senile,” Loki’s voice comes from behind you making you gasp and jump.

You whirl to face him, hand over your heart as you struggle to keep your fright under wraps. “Brother? What in Valhalla’s name are you doing here?” you half yell, half whispered. The ache in your bones intensifying with the sudden movement.

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Fragments - Part 10

Word Count: 1780

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff 

A/N: Hey look I kept it short.

Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome

Fragments Masterlist

“Cas? What’d you find?” Cas stormed into the bunker, looking grimmer than you’d seen in some time. He’d stormed into Heaven, checking out leads on your soul and if it could possibly be in the cage.

“Lucifer wasn’t lying.” Cas said. Dean was instantly by your side, lacing your fingers together. “The angel that grabbed you when you ran from them was one of Metatron’s followers.” Cas explained. “He had strict instructions from Metatron that if you acted out in anyway to throw you in the cage. Got the instruction manual on how to do it from a tablet.”

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Weaver has a (gray area legal) side job on campus. He makes jewelry- the kind of gorgeous and intricate pieces that people love on Etsy.

There are the impossible little tree pendants made of twisted iron wires, the hair twists which can be worn for weeks at a time, and the little glass baubles filled with sea salt. They make for perfect earrings: tiny vials of potent salt in colorful glass containers which make for stunning earring decorations or necklace pendants, or even the occasional charm bracelet.

Off campus, they’re cutesy little pieces that can be purchased for a bit more than they’re probably worth.

On campus, they sell faster than he can make them. Especially around certain holidays and celebrations. For him, the idea of graduating and moving on is a distant thought. After all, so long as he stays on campus, the Weaver will always have business.



A/N: i changed the gif bc i feel like it didn’t fit the plotline, i’m satisfied now bc the gif fits the oneshot now :)

  • PAIRING: Draco x Hermione (Dramione)
  • SUMMARY: In which during a potions class Draco gets embarrassed by his group of friends for staring at Hermione for a bit too long than he needed to.
  • WORDS: 512
  • WARNINGS: love/hate relationship
  • PROMPT: (requested by: @missbookworm2258
  • 18. “Are you blushing?” - “No you are, shut up.”

“What you see before you ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Slughorn announced, starting the lesson he’s been dying to teach even though he has most definitely taught it multiple times in the past years, “It’s a curious little potion known as Felix Felicis which it is more commonly referred to as…”

“Liquid Luck.” A voice piped up, heads turning to see who the owner of that voice was, not surprised to see it was indeed Hermione Granger that called out the answer before the teacher even began to complete the sentence. 

A smile formed on the pudgy Professor’s round face, “Yes, Ms. Granger. Liquid Luck.” He rose an eyebrow, raising the tiny bottle up for the students to see, continuing to explain, “Desperately tricky to make, disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip would you will find that all of your endeavors succeed…”

This was all it took for Draco’s head to turn to the Professor, absolutely intrigued with the idea of this certain potion. That was until he finished what he was rambling on about. “At least until the effects wear off,” He gave a timid smile to the glass, the empty bottle still in hand, “so this is what I offer each of you today, a tiny vial of Liquid Luck to the student who in the hour that remains manages to brew an acceptable draught of living death. Nevertheless, good luck to you all. Let the brewing commence!”

The students scattered around the room to get the recipes for the potion stated in their textbook. Draco decided to take his time, knowing that his potion would turn out a flop like the many times he’s managed to brew a potion like this; In this case, Hermione however, was already stressing out.

While the class was brewing the Felix Felicis, Draco couldn’t help but let his gray eyes shift over to what Hermione was preparing. She was trying her best to cut the stubborn Sopophorus bean that kept jumping away from her. A slight chuckle escaped his lips and before he knew it, his best friend Blaise Zabini started shouting, “Oi, Draco! Are you staring at Granger over there?” 

The platinum-haired boy’s smile dropped and was replaced with a frown after hearing his friend shouting those words, he shared a death glare at the boy that was only mere inches from him. “Shut up.” His tone dripping with venom.

The chestnut headed girl looked up from her cauldron to see Draco already looking at her for any sort of reaction, stormy eyes met sensitive brown eyes and she looked away. 

It didn’t help that they were only several feet away from one another. She noticed a slight tint in his cheeks, “Are you blushing?” She asked, her face painted with a playful smile. 

“No you are, shut up.” He replied his face turning an even scarlet shade than it was before. Once the girl had turned away with an expression that could only be described as jolly, the platinum-haired boy couldn’t help the smile that had gently tugged on the ends of his pale lips.

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS (check these out for more!)

Giant: Ch. 9

Our bodies are weak,
We’re tired and hurting
Will we ever get to the other side?
Dunno but I swear I’ll die trying.

The first date was enough to prove that she was certain Kara wasn’t going to escape how she felt about Lena Luthor. And it wasn’t just the thirty six hours of talking and reacquainting. It wasn’t even the way the CEO effortlessly accepted whatever happened, becoming Kara’s number one defender and supporter. It certainly wasn’t waking up next to messy hair tickling her nose or an uptick in her take out deliveries, though all were benefits in their own little way.

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Being prepared

I just need to accept that unless I’m going to a specific event (Bats Day, Vampire Ball), I am not a person who carries a tiny purse.

However, if there’s a need for a multi-tool, a USB drive, a sewing kit, pain relievers, a handkerchief, or a spot of hex breaking, I’m the person who can help.

(Note to Self: put matches and a small vial of salt in your purse. Maybe a small (TINY!) vial of glitter, too?)

Lilac Hues

Words: 2k
Genre: Fluff, Fairy!Au
Sequel to Azure Blue 


He giggles.

And you can’t help the smile that raises on your lips, his high pitched laughter absolutely infectious. “Hold still, Jimin!”

“I can’t! It tickles too much!” He whines out, still giggling and thrashing beneath your hands.

“Almost…” You huff out tiredly, fingers weaving through the strands of his hair. “…done.”

With one more sweep of your fingers through his hair and the liquid all soaked up, you swivel his chair around while taking a step back so his azure wings don’t hit you. His honey eyes grow in size as he peers into the luminescent mirror, hand reaching upwards but retracting carefully as to not ruin your hard work.

“You did it!”

“Of course I did.” You snicker playfully. “I’ll miss your orange hair but I think lilac suits you nicely too.”

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