insufferable

not that I deliberately start rp’ing with people for the purposes of shipping, but if there’s chemistry, if there’s interesting interaction, then yeah, I probably ship it

you don’t have to ship it too; it’s fun to torture the muse with unrequited feelings okay

I will never pressure you into a ship

if you feel like i’m pressuring you, let me know and i’ll do my best to rectify the behavior

if you want to ship a thing, pitch it to me. the answer is probably yes.

that said, don’t assume it without at least mentioning it to me ooc first.

ships are usually in their own separate verses unless we’ve discussed something else.

if you ship with me I’ll ruin your life

Send in 🍷 to walk in on my muse WASTED – Hermione had prepared for this moment with much care and anticipation, waiting until every house mate had gone down to the Quidditch field before uncovering her newly acquired wine bottles and procuring a goblet from the common room. Her very first sip (from the second bottle ) was taken before the Fat Lady suddenly twisted open, and Hermione made a futile attempt at hiding the bottle, but gave up when she was obviously unsuccessful, seeing as Seamus was staring straight at her. Deciding her best weapon to not her ratted on was bargaining, she smiled and held up the bottle, “I’ll share it with you if you don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll share it with you if you don’t tell anyone.”

Maybe there was something wrong with Seamus, but he just wasn’t particularly interested in Quidditch these days. He’d tried to get into it, go to the match and be supportive of Dean, but after the first bit of sitting in the stands watching the game, he found he didn’t have any more energy to cheer along. He ducked out of the stadium and made his way back to the dormitory, where he had every intention in the world of climbing into bed and taking a long, long nap.

These plans were intercepted, however, when he entered Gryffindor tower to find Hermione, badly trying to conceal a bottle of wine and acting more than a little hammered. Hermione Granger. The most straight-laced, tight-arsed person he’d ever met, including McGonagall. Sitting in the common room, getting pissed on pilfered booze. Today was strange.

🤩 You’re amazing.

😍 You’re really cute.

😳 You’re beautiful.

😘 You’re sexy as hell.

🎀 I love your hair.

👁️ Your eyes are so pretty.

💃 You have a gorgeous body.

🍑 You have a nice ass.

☀️ I want to spend a whole day with you.

🛏️ I wish you were in my bed right now.

💗 I can never get enough of you.

⭐ You’re special to me.

💌 I miss you.

🤭 There’s something I want to tell you.

💘 Keep being so lovable and I’ll end up falling for you.

💕 I think we’d look good together.

a kiss on the top of the head.

a kiss to hair.

a kiss on the forehead.

a kiss on the space between eyebrows.

a kiss on the temple.

a kiss on the cheek.

a kiss on the eyelid or the undereye.

a kiss on the ear.

a kiss on that space where jaw connects.

a kiss on the corner of the mouth.

a kiss on the cupid’s bow.

a kiss on the lips.

a kiss on the chin.

a kiss on the jawline.

a kiss on the back of the neck.

a kiss on the underside of the jaw.

a kiss on the throat.

a kiss on the side of the neck.

a kiss on where the back of the neck turns to shoulder.

a kiss above the collarbone.

a kiss along the collarbone.

a kiss on the space between collarbones.

a kiss on the shoulder.

a kiss on the bicep.

a kiss on the forearm.

a kiss on the elbow.

a kiss on the outside of the wrist.

a kiss on the inside of the wrist.

a kiss on the back of the hand.

a kiss on the palm.

a kiss on a finger.  ( which one? )

a kiss on the side of the ribs.

a kiss on the shoulder blade.

a kiss on the space between shoulder blades.

a kiss along the curve of the spine.

a kiss on the upper back.

a kiss on the lower back.

a kiss on the sternum.

a kiss on a pec / breast.

a kiss under the breast.

a kiss on where the sternum ends.

a kiss on the stomach.

a kiss on the navel.

a kiss on the hipbone.

a kiss on the ‘v’.

a kiss on the front of the thigh.

a kiss on the back of the thigh.

a kiss on the inner thigh.

a kiss on the knee.

a kiss on the calf.

a kiss on the ankle.

a kiss on the heel.

a kiss on the foot.

a kiss on a toe.

a kiss on an nsfw body part not listed here.  ( where? )

     Hermione wanted to say it had been the worst two days of her life, but the saddest part was that it wasn’t. However it sure competed with might as she shifted for what felt like the billionthtime, the ache in her spine driving her nearly insane already. Pride and dignity had been the first casualties when she arrived at the manor, and the battered girl could do nothing more but sob quietly and continuously, every bone in her body bringing her agony. Her stomach rumbled almost as loud as her cries, and Hermione wasn’t sure how much more pain she could take, feeling herself withering slowly. As counteraction, she recited every potion recipe she’d ever learned, every Arithmancy formula she could remember, hoping the exercise would mitigate the effects of her captivity.

     The sound of the door was like the smoothest jazz song her father used to hear, and she twisted herself painfully to turn her wide eyed gazed to whoever entered. Lucius’ figure was extremely welcome to one side of her, while the other protested vehemently against that feeling,disgust raging inside. She was frantic to get out of the cage and seeing as he blocked her way, the only thing left was to obey him.

  Hermione put her arms out quickly and stared as the clasps closed tightly around her wrists, bringing a sense of relief and anxiety, along with a heavy feeling inside her chest, which helped her conclude her magic was blocked entirely. She suspected she couldn’t even walk straight anymore, and she attempted to get up only to stumble back down to the hard floor when her shaky, cramped legs couldn’t stand her ( very light ) weight.

     She now knew from experience it was useless to talk to the Death Eater, so she just waited for instruction as she straightened her bent back- a mixed felling of pain and pleasure.

He gives her a few seconds to stretch- not so much out of kindness as out of fear that she might be permanently crippled from being forced into that cage for the bigger part of 2 weeks. Once the aristocrat is convinced that Hermione is not going to fall over, he prods her with his cane– indicating for her to turn around for him so he can assess what state she’s in. 

“The Dark Lord has assigned you as my personal servant.” he says after a long silence && he doesn’t sound any more pleased with than she looks. 

“Those handcuffs- as you may have already noticed- will keep your magic bound, should you ever get into the foolish notion of trying to hex me.– nod if you understand all I’m saying.” 

He adds, smashing his cane into her chin a bit harder than necessary in warning. He is trying to taunt her- embarrass her to the point where she won’t even want to look him in the eyes.

      Hermione thought she might prefer the cage. 

      She remained silent, though. There was no use in protesting and her body in its current agony couldn’t take even one other strike from that bloody cane, or even from Malfoy’s own hands. The man was tall and so much bigger than her and it might be prudent to avoid any frustrations to his side, as much as Hermione hated the thought- it would be for her own well-being, an act of self-preservation alone.

      Specially since she knew damn well she wouldn’t be his slave for the rest of her now miserable life. Voldemort was an arrogant idiot with a too heavy dose of overconfidence- and in all honesty, not too much talent to follow that confidence up. If she didn’t manage to escape herself, her rescue was a sure thing, regardless of how long it took. Dumbledore may be gone but the Light had many extraordinary wizards and witches- unlike Voldemort’s legion that apparently seemed to accept everyone interested in the cause, which then resulted in an army of idiots. 

      Lost in thought, she barely noticed the many doors and rooms she passed through until they seemed to reach the living part of the manor. An elf, looking as frightened as a kicked pup, grabbed the edge of her jeans by the ankle and started pulling her through more and more corridors until they finally arrived at a single ebony door by the end of a long, long hall. 

      Out of breath from the first exercise in two weeks, Hermione allowed herself to drop on the bed, almost crying at the soft feeling of cotton sheets. As much as sleep wanted to consume her, her skin crawled for a shower and with much will she fell away from the bed, dragging her sorry hide into the bathroom. 

hello  !  this is a new masterlist blog for the harry potter roleplay community  !  please only reblog this post and add the following to the tags in order to be included on the list: your muse name  /  canon or original character

aka “sometimes i feel like i wanna make out with you is that a friend thing to do?” type of things

(send a name and a sentence)

“You’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?”

“We always share blankets on the couch, I’m sure sharing the bed for the night is fine too.”

“Your lips are getting really close to mine.”

“I’m not jealous, but, like, come on, movie night is just for me and you only.”

“I dare you to kiss me.”

“No, go on the Ferris Wheel with me, not them.”

“You can share my jacket with me, since you’re shivering.”

“Why is your hand on my ass?”

“Cuddle with me.”

“I just kissed your forehead, chill.”

“Shit, how’d you make me blush like this?”

“Are you trying to turn me on?”

“Let’s hang out, but I’ll pay for everything, and we can go to this fancy restaurant– No, not a date.”

“Okay, I guess this is a date, actually.”

“Stop with the tongue thing, it’s strangely attractive.”

“I keep telling them we’re not dating, but they keep telling me friends don’t normally make out when drunk.”

“I don’t want to be friends with benefits, but I do want something more, I just can’t figure out what.”

“When did you get so beautiful?”

“If you’re going to dress like that, I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”

“Their pick-up line wasn’t as good as any of mine, I’m just saying.”

“No, I don’t know how I got a boner, It just kind of happened! It’s because of how you were eating that ice cream, I bet!”

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright?  It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ….. .”

“Why’d you let go of me?”

“I accidentally called you my girlfriend/boyfriend today.”

“I kissed you because we were drunk.”

“I kissed you because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Could you not talk to him/her, please?  I think they’re trying to date you.”

“I wish we could stay like this forever…”

“I had this dream where we were dating.”

“I had this dream where you kissed me, and I kind of want to try it now.”

“Why do you always call me when I’m on a date?”

“No, I can’t hang out, I’m on a date and you know that.” 

“Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous.”

“Just remember, he/she’s not the one who taught you how to kiss.”

“It’s weird how we’ve been friends for so long, but never went through that ‘crushing’ phase.”

“Maybe I want to kiss you because it’s cold and about to be cuddle season.”

“I say this a lot, but, look, they’re not good enough for you.”

“You’re always wrapping your arms around me in lines.”

“I was listening to that love song, and you came to mind.  Weird, right?”

“You know this voucher only works for couples, right?”

“Are you implying that you want to kiss me?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re blushing so hard, all I did was say “I love you” in French.”

“I could get used to waking up next to you, actually.”

“Right… Well… I’m not sure how we ended up kissing like that…”

“I’m personally offended that you didn’t get me to be your fake date.”

“We would make a pretty good couple.”

“The date didn’t go well.  Yeah, she/he didn’t like how I kept mentioning all of our adventures.”

“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?”

A mental slap to the forehead was applied and Hermione wanted to dig herself a hole. There’s that Gryffindor subtlety everyone always chatted about. She debated internally that it would have better as a move to just call him handsome instead of “You smell good.”

Seriously, Hermione?

     He gets a snicker for both his comments, and her smile is gentle and not mocking, if maybe a little mischievous, “It certainly suits you well.” It sounds like she’s trying to have a go at her former teacher and the idea settles disturbingly well in her head, despite all the warnings that go off along with it. “I didn’t think you’d be one to make presence at such events. You sure seemed to hate everyone so much long ago that you’d want nothing else to do with them these days.”

     Professor Snape does look more relaxed, if she may be so bold, and he smells good. His voice is still just as authoritarian over her as it ever was, and even though the thought of flirting with him embarrasses her ( and prepares her to fall flat on her face when he rebukes her ), she goes on with what she believes is subtlety, “Though I am really glad you came…” Her hair is up in a bun but she still tucks an nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s really good to see you. What have you been up to? If you don’t mind me asking, sir?” A small jab as his use of her surname.

He is somewhat surprised that she was speaking to him at all. Most of his former students carefully avoided making eye-contact with him, and Severus couldn’t quite blame them– and if he was perfectly honest he even preferred it that way. Granger had been one of the students he had always been particularly hard on, due to her unfortunate set of friends && her annoying habit of interrupting him with insights he’d overlooked.

“I assure that it was not my idea to attend these…festivities. However, I do have some ties left at this institution, as you might imagine.” he replies, taking a sip of his champagne just to create a moment for himself to gather his thoughts before answering her next cluster of questions. 

“I-” His eyebrows raise slightly when at her enthousiasm at finding him here, then he continues:

“I have set up a laboratory for…experimental potions outside London. I oversee a small group of aspiring doctorate students on their thesis for a few more weeks, before I can return to my personal research.” 

 He seems uncomfortable in her presence, but she’s never seen him comfortable around a single person, so she obviously doesn’t take it to heart.  

His sip of champagne propels her own and it’s like drinking liquid courage ( mostly because it’s already her 5th glass ). Hermione scarcely remembered a time she felt so light and care-free. Surrounded by people who she ( mostly ) liked, it was no surprise she’d be so relaxed. Still, the noise is a bit of a bother, and since Snape has never seemed like the type of man to catch up on hints, she decides honesty is her best weapon, 

“The Headmistress was feeling quite tasteful when she put up the decorations, huh?” The Great Hall was dressed subtly in all of the houses’ colors, along with the school crest in subdued hues. “However nice, though, I feel like I could use some air and some interesting conversation, and you’re the only one in sight who can provide me with that.” 

“Oho, i do certainly see that,” he snarled, still bitter about his eye - “I see that wand and i’m going to make you snap it, little one.”

Knowing she was one of the brighter ones, he decided not to give her something to think about - see if she was still prone to freezing in fear.

“I heard dolohov did quite a number on you, weeks in mungos? or was it pomfrey that took care of you.” he chuckled stepping closer to her, “Bet you liked the attention, you should thank him.”

Hermione lowers her wand point to Walden’s crotch, her mouth forming a malicious smile as her eyes slide up to his again, “I think you deserve just the same- If I can even aim at something so small.” 

It’s a childish jab, but taking shots allows her to hide just how nervous she is by his presence in her home.