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cherry-pop-elf · 1 year ago

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Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA

I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?

I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!

Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!

I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^

((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))

As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely

Kissable

George Weasley X AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know

Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.

“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.

He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.

“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.

“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.

He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.

“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.

After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.

“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.

“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.

“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.

“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.

Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.

With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.

The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?

“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.

The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.

It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.

“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.

“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.

“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.

With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.

“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.

Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.

It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.

Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.

“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.

There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.

“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.

“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.

Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.

A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.

“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.

“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.

“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.

“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.

“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.

You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.

The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.

The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.

It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.

“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.

The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.

Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.

“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.

“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.

“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.

That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.

He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.

Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.

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whatcha-thinkin · 2 years ago

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#polls #poll #daily polls #i love polls #polladay #fictional universes #portal fantasy #harry potter #star wars #star trek #dune #discworld #battletech #narnia #the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy

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thebreakfastgenie · 4 months ago

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You literally posted that chart blaming ppl who abstained from voting and then replied snidely to someone who pointed out that it's victim blaming. You don't want to talk about genocide because you know that you're in the wrong for shaming non-voters

That post has literally nothing to do with Gaza. I didn't even talk about Gaza in response to that comment, I just said that if they truly did not believe Harris was preferable to Trump they had nothing to complain about. If Harris wouldn't be better, then Trump being president is not a metaphorical crime, and therefore there are no victims to blame.

I am shaming non-voters, I'm right to do it and I'll do it again and again and again and again. Choosing not to vote is shameful. I think that even about elections without Donald Trump on the ballot because I have a strong sense of civic duty but it's extra shameful in elections like 2016 and 2024. If non-voters genuinely believe Trump being president is not meaningfully worse than Harris being president, they won't feel shame and they won't care what I think. The problem is that non-voters know they're in the wrong because they can see what's happening as clearly as anyone else. When people ask them "can you honestly say Kamala Harris would [pick anything Trump has done in the last 16 days]?" they never say "yes." Because they can't.

No one wants to actually make the argument that refusing to vote for Harris over Gaza was worth the suffering Trump's election is causing, because it didn't do anything to help Gaza and it didn't pressure Democrats into agreeing with them. The only thing it did was make non-voters avoid feeling bad about voting for Harris. But now they feel bad anyway because they have a sinking feeling that Trump winning is worse. Most of the non-voters now whining wanted Harris to win so they would get the benefits of Harris being president and Trump not being president, but they wanted her to win without their votes so they didn't have to feel bad.

I don't want to talk about Gaza because it's a serious and sensitive topic and I don't feel informed enough to speak about it on my blog, especially when my political posts have been getting thousands of notes. I posted that ask to dissect the insidious pro-Trump rhetoric, not to address the content, and I did not want the piss on the poor website to have a slapfest using people's extreme suffering to score cheap shots at each other in the notes.

The term victim-blaming is for, like, victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. It's not a magic word to avoid taking responsibility ever. Grow the fuck up.

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slitherinky · 6 months ago

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Masterlist | About me | Requests

A Different Lesson Than Usual

Setting: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, MDNI, dom!Draco, forcefulness, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (man receiving), deep throat, finger sucking, degrading, use of "Sir"

Summary: During potions class you get paired with Draco. From the start, he takes charge, ordering you around and making you do all the work. Despite your efforts, Draco is unimpressed with your performance and attitude. After class, he drags you to his dorm, determined to teach you a lesson. “If you can’t listen, I’ll make sure you learn.”

2338 Words

Please be aware of the warnings before proceeding. If you are underage, sensitive to depictions of violence, or intense explicit content, it is do not to read further. This story is purely fictional and does not reflect or endorse such behavior in real life. Any attempt to replicate the actions described in this story in real life is strongly discouraged. Harry Potter and the Wizarding World is a trademark of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

The stone corridors of Hogwarts were colder than usual that morning, and my hurried footsteps vibrated through the hallways as I clutched my books to my chest. The hands of the grand clock in the tower were unforgiving; no matter how hard I tried, time simply didn’t bend to the will of a frazzled student.

I was late.

Again.

The door to Professor Snape’s Potions classroom appeard ahead, its heavy oak surface etched with shifting runes that seemed to mock my tardiness. I hesitated for a heartbeat, my hand hovering over the iron handle. There was no way he hadn’t noticed my absence. Professor Snape was known for his strict demeanor and his nearly magical sense of punctuality—or rather, his ability to detect a lack thereof.

Bracing myself, I pushed the door open.

“Ah, Miss Y/n,” his voice greeted me before I even stepped inside. It was cold, precise, and carried the weight of both disappointment and expectation. The professor stood at the head of the class, his long, dark robes flowing like shadowy currents around his feet. His silver-rimmed spectacles glinted ominously in the light of the floating lanterns above.

“I see the concept of time continues to elude you.”

“Professor, I—” I began, but he raised a pale hand to silence me. The twenty-something pairs of eyes from my fellow students—half curious, half pitying—burned holes into my back as I stood there, wishing I could melt into the stone floor.

“Spare me the excuses. You’ve disrupted my lesson.” He gestured sharply towards the rest of the room, where the students were grouped into pairs. Each pair had a cauldron before them, bubbling with the early stages of a potion I didn’t recognize. “Since you seem so keen on making your own rules, let’s see how well you fare when paired with someone you’re… less familiar with.” My stomach sank.

No. No, no, no. Please, no.

“Draco Malfoy,” he called, his voice like the toll of a bell. “You will work with Miss Y/n for today’s assignment.”

My eyes widened in horror as a murmur of amusement spread around the room. The Slytherins, Draco included, seemed especially amused.

Slytherin. It was not my house.

I didn’t want to be stuck with that spoiled brat.

But before I could protest, I was being marched across the classroom and deposited at a table in the back, where the notorious Draco Malfoy was lounging in his chair. His hair was silver, his face chiseled in the manner of an angelic creature, and his gaze was icy, grey-blue. When his eyes met mine, his lips curled into a mocking smile. I took my seat beside him, ignoring the smirks and whispers around us.

“Now,” Professor Snape continued, his focus shifting back to the class at large, “you have exactly one hour to complete the Draught of Shadows. And remember—this potion is highly volatile. Mistakes will not go unnoticed.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

Draco Malfoy—my crush since forever—was sitting next to me. I’d fantasized about being this close to him more times than I cared to admit. But not like this.

“Here,” he said, shoving the parchment toward me. His tone was smooth but held a sharp edge. “You’ll do the measuring. And the stirring. Basically, all of it.”

“Uh—what?” I stammered, blinking at him. I’d barely sat down, and already he was bossing me around?

“You heard me,” he said, leaning back in his chair with infuriating nonchalance. He stretched out his long legs under the desk, taking up more space than necessary. “You don’t want to mess this up, do you?” His smirk was equal parts cruel and devastatingly charming.

“Fine,” I muttered, pouring the first ingredient into the cauldron with shaky hands. “But you could at least help.”

“I am helping,” Draco said, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. “I’m supervising. For your sake, and the sake of the people around us, you’ll do as I say.”

I shot him a glare, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered state. My stomach churned with frustration, but I said nothing and continued with the potion. I told myself this was fine—better than fine, really. This was the most interaction I’d ever had with him. Even if he was being infuriating, he was still talking to me.

By the time I added the powdered obsidian, though, my patience was wearing thin. “Stir faster,” he said, his voice dropping into an almost amused drawl. “No, not like that. Clockwise. Honestly, Y/n, are you trying to ruin this?”

“Or you could stir Mr. Know-It-All” I snapped before I could stop myself. My face flushed immediately.

"What was this?" he said. But I couldn't answer him. Or else I would have told him to fuck off.

"Y/n," he said softly, but his voice was tight with anger. "I'll ask you one more time—How did you just call me?"

His hand was resting on the edge of the table, the tips of his fingers curling and uncurling as if he wanted to hit me.

"I'm sorry!" I burst out. "I didn't mean that. I was frustrated, and it slipped out." I was blushing even more now, my fingers trembling on the wooden spoon.

There was a moment of silence. The bubbling of the cauldron was almost deafening, the silence in the room heavy. Professor Snape's sharp eye was on us, and I wondered if he'd overheard.

"You better," Draco muttered, his voice soft and rough at the same time. My eyes flickered to meet his, and I felt a thrill of fear mixed with excitement. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but he stopped me immediately.

"Shut it. Don't make things worse." My mouth shut with a snap.

The rest of the class passed in a blur of shame, frustration, and occasional, sharp corrections from Draco. He didn’t say a word about what had happened, but it hung in the air like a cloud of tension. I stirred the potion until it turned to a deep silver, then carefully poured it into glass vials as Professor Snape had instructed. I glanced at the clock, relief washing over me; it was almost time to go.

“Excellent,” Professor Snape said as he approached our table. His eyes scanned the finished product on the table before him, lingering over each of the five vials of Draught of Shadows. “Well done, both of you.”

Yes of course. Now that Ass gets my praise, even though he has done NOTHING but order me around. And be mean. But at least the class is over. As the Professor walked away, I started to pack up my things.

“Don’t.” Draco's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist in a cold, unforgiving grip.

I stared up at him, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “What?”

“Don't pack. We're not done here.” His voice was dark, his gaze intense. Then his attention shifted to the rest of the classroom, where his friends were gathering their things. “Excuse me for a moment,” he told them, before his fingers tightened around my arm, and he yanked me out of the classroom.

My feet struggled to keep up with his, stumbling slightly as he dragged me through the corridor. I couldn’t believe it. Where were we going?

The answer came when he pushed me into a room I recognized immediately—the Slytherin common room. The door of his room slammed shut behind us, the heavy wood reverberating through my bones as Draco released my arm. My heart was pounding.

“You were a very disobedient little girl in class today,” he drawled, his back to me as he leaned against the closed door. His voice was low and rough. “Do you know what happens to little girls who can’t behave themselves?”

“No—” I whispered, my stomach sunk. “I—”

But before I could finish, Draco was striding toward me, his movements fluid and predatory. I gasped as he pressed my body harder on the door, his hand grabbing my chin.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his tone almost hypnotic. I felt my gaze drawn to his, my body responding despite itself. The heat of him against my front was almost overwhelming. My vision blurred for a moment, his face swimming in my mind like a half-remembered dream.

But the haze was shattered by his next words: “Now, you’re going to learn your lesson.”

His fingers dug into my jaw as he forced me to stare into those piercing grey eyes. His grip was unyielding, and I could feel my breath coming in shallow gasps as his hand slid down my chin to my throat, choking me. I felt a rush of fear, but it was underscored with excitement. My blood hummed in my veins like a warm river, my cheeks burning under his gaze.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” he demanded, his voice dark. “Tell me you’ll be a good girl from now on.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his. My voice was barely audible. “I’ll be good,”

"What else?" he asked demanding.

“I won’t be disobedient.”

The words tumbled from my mouth like a confession.

“Mmm,” he murmured, his gaze tracing over me. “I want to see you apologize.”

"Undress yourself and get on you knees." he ordered softly.

My cheeks flushed, and I hesitated, my mind in a daze.

He raised an eyebrow. “Now.”

My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, my vision blurring around the edges. I peeled off my shirt, tossing it aside, and slid off my skirt. The cool air of the room danced over my skin, and I shivered.

“Panties,” he prompted, his voice low and dangerous. My pulse raced as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down. There was something about the way he looked at me—something that made me want to obey him.

I knelt on the scratchy carpet, my heart pounding. How the hell did I end up here.

But the thought was short-lived as Draco’s hands settled on my shoulders, his cold fingers digging into my skin. I watched as he reached for his belt, sliding it free with a metallic jingle. The leather creaked as he wrapped it around my neck, pulling it tight with his left hand. My breath caught in my throat.

“I am going to teach you your place.” His gaze was burning, his eyes pinning me “You’re a good little slut,” he whispered, his voice making me shiver. “Aren’t you? Tell me.”

"Yes Sir"

“That’s more like it.” His right hand wrapped around the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Now,” he purred. “What do you say to me?”

“Thank you, sir.” I felt something inside of me shudder, some last vestige of resistance falling away under his touch.

“Good girl." His hand tightened in my hair as his other hand started stroking my cheek. The belt around my throat relaxed. His thumb caressed my bottom lip as he murmured, "Now open up." The roughness of his voice made my heart jump. The command made my head swim.

“Open,” he repeated, his voice sharp this time.

I slowly parted my lips. Then, without warning, he shoved two fingers into my mouth.

"Suck them," he growled. I moaned in response, the sound muffled by his fingers. His left hand tightened painfully in my hair as he pulled my head back. My eyes watered. "Suck them." he repeated, shoving his fingers deeper.

I obeyed, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly. He watched me with a satisfied smirk. It only made me hotter, making me suck his fingers harder.

He pulled his fingers from my mouth and unzipped his trousers. My mouth fell open as he pulled out his cock, hard and thick. The sight alone made my pussy clench in anticipation.

He grabbed my hair, forcing my head back as he positioned his cock at my mouth. He gave me no warning, shoving his cock down my throat with one smooth motion. I gagged on his cock as he started pumping in and out. My throat ached as he fucked my face, tears streaming down my cheeks. I struggled to breathe around his cock, since the belt tightened around my throat, was restricting my breath as well.

He pulled out, letting me catch my breath before shoving back inside me. He held me there, his cock buried deep in my throat. I gasped for air as he fucked my face. His grip on my hair was unyielding as he used me for his pleasure. The belt tightened as he thrust into me again. My lips were stretched tight around his cock, saliva dripping down my chin. He was ruthless in his use, uncaring of my pleasure. All I was, was a hole to fill with his cum.

He started panting, his thrusts speeding up. "Good girl," he groaned as he fucked my mouth. "Such a good little slut." My pussy ached to be fucked, but I knew I had to wait. My mouth was for him. "Take it all," he growled.

His fingers tightened in my hair as he rammed deep into me. I felt his cock pulsing in my throat as he filled my mouth with his cum. The salty taste of his cum was my only reward as he filled my mouth. I swallowed his cum down greedily, lapping at his cock with my tongue. His moans of pleasure sent shivers through my body as he used my mouth to clean off his cock. His softening cock slipped out of my mouth, his cum still dripping down my chin.

"Such a good little whore." he purred, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "If you do something stupid again, remember that I know how to punish you. And next time, it will be much worse."

You want more? My Masterlist

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hsunrry · 8 months ago

Text

safe word // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,5k

warnings: smut18+, unprotected sex, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, safe word (but not actually using it), praise, aftercare

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

nine. that’s exactly how many times he fucked you today in the last 2 hours. your pussy was swollen and you were overstimulated as hell. it was getting to that point you couldn’t even think straight and most importantly- you couldn’t even think about what your safe word was. your mind was foggy and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence anymore. “shut up, you’ll take it.” he panted, pounding into your sore heat fast and hard. his hands gripping your hips, probably already marking you.

“Harry, no, please.” you whined weakly. he chuckled, not slowing down. he was oblivious at what was happening, because of the heat of the moment.

“you can take it baby, you can take it for me.” he whispered, pulling you by your hair with one hand. you really couldn’t think straight. you wanted to use that word, but it just magically slipped out of your head. “you’re doing so good for me, my good fucking girl, taking my cock again.” he praised. his hand went from your hair to squeeze your throat slightly.

“i can’t-“ you said out of breath. “Harry please-“

“you can.” he leaned to kiss your shoulder. “you’ll take it, you’re my good girl.” he bit down on your neck, picking up the pace even more, making you cry out. “tell me you’re my good girl.”

“Harry please stop, i can’t remember the safe word.” you finally managed to gasp full sentence. he froze his movements immediately. he let go of your throat, pulling out of you and laying you down on your back.

“hey, look at me.” he caressed your cheek. you looked at him, not knowing what’s happening. guilt squeezed his chest and he pulled you into his lap, hugging you and caressing your body. “i’m so sorry baby, i didn’t know, you know i’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“i’m sorry.” you said quietly. he shushed you immediately.

“don’t you dare apologise. it’s my fault, i should’ve noticed that something was off.” he mumbled, pulling you even closer to his chest. “are you sore, sweetheart? did i hurt you?”

“it was just too much.” you whispered and he kissed the top of your head. he was feeling guilty for letting himself get carried away that much and for overstimulating you at high level.

“i know darling, i’m sorry i didn’t notice you can’t form words anymore. i should’ve checked in on you more.” he pecked your forehead few times. “i’ll get you in the bathtub, okay?” you only nodded at his words. he stood up with you, carrying you in his arms to the bathroom. he settled you on the counter, running the bath after that. he added your favourite scents and bubbles, lightning some candles as well to make it cozy. when it was good amount of water in the bathtub, he scooped you into his arms, placing you gently into the water. he walked in behind you, laying you down on his chest and rubbing your body soothingly.

“i’m sorry i forgot.” you said quietly.

“don’t even start baby. it’s my fault, i should’ve checked in on you more, i should’ve known.” he placed gentle kisses on your neck and shoulder. “i got a bit too carried away, love. you have nothing to be sorry for. how do you feel now?”

“a bit better, but still sensitive and a little hazy.” you answered. he nodded, placing another few kisses below your ear.

“you remember our safe word now?” he asked quietly.

“now i know, but my mind was too foggy for that earlier.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. he pulled you even closer to himself.

“that’s good, love.” he sigh quietly. he was extremely gentle with his touch. he poured shower gel on his hands, washing you tenderly. “how long were you trying to tell me it was too much?” he asked after few moments. you only shrugged slightly. “i’m so sorry, my love. for overstimulating you like that and not checking if you’re okay. i didn’t notice you starting to slip into your head and i’m so sorry it came to this.” he kissed your shoulder. the guilt was washing over him again and again.

“it’s okay, i should’ve remembered the safe word no matter what.” you whispered and he shook his head, squeezing your hips softly to shut you up, before you start saying that it’s your fault.

“you couldn’t think straight from overstimulation. it’s my fault. i knew you were sensitive and i still went too hard and too fast. i should’ve checked in on you every once in a while instead of getting lost in the heat of the moment.” he said against your skin. you nodded, sighing softly.

“can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked quietly.

“of course, darling. we’ll stay like this as long as you need and then i’ll make you something to eat.” he smiled against your skin, caressing your thighs carefully.

“you don’t have to, babe. i’ll be fine.” you smiled softly, going with your hands on his.

“shh, no arguments. you’re going to eat something light and drink a lot, because you’re going to be extra tired after all we did and you know that. you need to rest and i’m here to make sure i’ll take good care of my pretty girl.” he placed few more kisses, on your cheek this time.

“thank you.” you smiled at his kisses. he hummed against your cheek.

“mm, you don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. you deserve the best.” he mumbled. his hands gently caressing your body all the time, being careful to not touch the most sensitive places.

“you’re not mad at me?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“mad at you? why in the world i would be mad at you, baby?” he frowned slightly.

“because i forgot our s-“

“shush. don’t you even dare finish that sentence.” he kissed your neck, rubbing your stomach in meantime. “it wasn’t your fault, you were overstimulated and overwhelmed in this situation, out of your mind. you probably couldn’t remember my last name if i asked you, much less our safe word.” you only sigh quietly and nodded. “i’m not mad, i’m more guilty of letting myself get carried away and not noticing you were losing it. i should’ve stopped when something was different than usual.”

“next time we’ll know.” you said.

“mhm.” he smiled and nodded. he peppered your shoulder and neck with kisses.” we’ll be more careful next time.” he gently grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “i’m really sorry, my love. i didn’t mean to put you in that state. i love you and i’m sorry i didn’t notice you were reaching your limit.” his thumb slowly caressing your cheek. you leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“i love you too and i don’t want you too feel guilty about it. things happen.” you smiled softly at him. “and i’m better now.”

“i’ll get some cold compresses as well when we get out of bathtub.” he pecked your lips few times, making you chuckle. you were sitting in the warm water for almost an hour. after you decided you want to get out, he gently dried you with a towel and wrapped your body in fluffy bathrobe. he carried you to the living room on the big couch, laying you down. he crouched next to your head. “how about i made you grilled cheese sandwiches, hm?” he caressed your hair. “i assume you don’t want anything heavy.”

“sounds good.” you smiled.

“i’ll make you your favourite tea too.” he kissed your forehead, standing up and going to an open concept kitchen. after few minutes he was back with sandwiches, tea and ice packs. he placed food on the coffee table and he started to put ice packs over the sore places. you exhaled deeply. “i know it’s cold, but it’ll help babe.” he bring the sandwich to your mouth.

“i know.” you said after you swallowed the food. he was caressing your cheek with one hand and fed you with the other. when you ate two sandwiches he made for you, you spoke. “i’m tired.” he smiled softly at your words.

“bet you are, love. wait here for a second and i’ll go change our sheets.” he stood up from the couch, going quickly to the bedroom. after few minutes he was back, taking you bridal style and going with you to bed. he laid you down, going behind to spoon you and covering you both with duvet. he pressed few soft kisses on the back of your head. “go to sleep, my love. we both need to rest.”

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midniqhtt · 9 months ago

Text

remus lupin

masterlist • the marauders • 03/27/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

remus lupin one

𑣲 when friends help you get the girl I @papercorgiworld

Remus struggles to ask you out and James tries to help. When Remus doesn't want to tell you he's a werewolf Sirius takes the blame. And Peter makes sure you spend some extra time together.

𑣲 hungry like the wolf I @ddejavvu

Remus is gifted an alternative potion to Wolfsbane near the full moon, meant to convert the magic of his transformation into energy. But the run you expect him to go on to burn some of the energy off isn't as much of a jog as it is a chase, and you're the one he's after.

𑣲 mistletoe I @cassielovesnewt

after the death of your brother, you take in your nephew as your own, shutting everyone else out in your grief. However, once you’re reunited with an old friend in Harry’s third year, old feelings start to come to the surface as you help each other through your grief.

𑣲 love in the foyer I @dwindlinghaze

remus lupin loves you, but his best friend 'likes' you too. so you both ended up fake dating.

𑣲 it’s nice to have a friend I @jamespottersdaisy

𑣲 markings I @myfictionaldreams

Remus accidentally bites your neck too hard and leaves indents of his teeth, and now it's woken something within him, needing everyone to see the mark he's left on you.

𑣲 the art of eye contact I @goldencherriess

The three times they made eye contact and the one time he did something about it.

𑣲 doctor!remus I @moonstruckme

𑣲 a friendly proposition I @/moonstruckme

Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you

𑣲 doctor!remus I @/moonstruckme

𑣲 shy!remus I @/moonstruckme

𑣲 a horseshoe for luck I @ellecdc

𑣲 black!sister reader I @/ellecdc

𑣲 the ruined apothecary I @/ellecdc

who reconnect after Hogwarts

𑣲 potter!reader I @/ellecdc

𑣲 black!sister reader I @/ellecdc

𑣲 pt!remus I @/ellecdc

𑣲 legs for days lupin I @/ellecdc

𑣲 surprise! we’re making love part 2 I @/ellecdc

𑣲 roommate!reader I @/ellecdc

𑣲 animagus!reader I @/ellecdc

𑣲 bfb!remus I @inkdrinkerworld

𑣲 hangout? I @/moonpascal

𑣲 prank gone right I @mischievousmoony

when james and sirius prank you guys after your third date, you just have to prank them back

𑣲 still here -tw! I @sun-kissy

𑣲 heaven I @/sun-kissy

𑣲 yours I @pretentious-blonde

after inviting remus's oldest friends to dinner to introduce his new girlfriend, a secret slips that could alter their entire relationship

𑣲 after the storm I @/pretentious-blonde

the full moon is looming and remus takes it out on the one person he promised not to.

𑣲 draw stars around my scars I @chxrryhxrt

Many weeks had passed since the most recent full moon, yet James and Sirius still will not let you see Remus. What could they be hiding?

𑣲 simple loving I @kquil

𑣲 temper I @/kquil

remus is usually a grump, as dismal as a cloudy day and you're his sunshine, whether he accepts it or not -- he denies it vehemently until his sensitive nerves make him lash out the day of a full moon

𑣲 letter I @iamgonnagetyouback

where the boys mess with the letter he wrote for you

𑣲 because it’s dangerous I @lovemenotts

𑣲 occupied dorm I @rainydayathogwarts

When Lily gets sick of the commotion in the common room, she is locked out of her dorm because you are occupying it.

𑣲 mind blowing kisser I @/rainydayathogwarts

(platonic!marauders) your friend group finds out something shocking about you, Hogwarts's biggest heartthrob.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic rec #remus lupin angst #remus lupin smut #moony #the marauders

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emeritusemeritus · 18 days ago

Note

Ooo longtime no talk!! If it’s okay, can I please request a Fred x fem!muggle!reader where they are married and she’s pregnant with a little girl, and Fred is such a loving and protective Husband and future father (it honestly makes her cry because she loves him sm and he’s so sweet) and they go to the Burrow to stay for the weekend with the whole family. Everyone is all doting on her, Molly loving taking care of her, everyone using magic to help her, and she bursts into tears right as Fred walks in the room (he’d so be like “why is my sweet wife crying??”) and it’s because she’s (alongside the pregnancy hormones) feeling kinda self conscious about being the only muggle in the family and worries she’s not enough🥺

Hi love!! So nice to hear from you again, I hope you’ve been well?! As always it would be my pleasure, I hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: PregnantWife!Reader, mentions of pregnancy and brief sickness, feelings of inadequacy, tears, hormones. Pregnancy hormones are no joke. Sweet Fred.

Word Count: 1.9k

Song for writing: No Surprises by Radiohead.

Just The Muggle [Fred Weasley]

Logically, you knew that you were just feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, but that didn't stop you from breaking down in tears the minute you finally got a moment alone.

You couldn't fault a single thing that had happened that day, nor could you fault a single member of the family congregated downstairs but for some reason you still felt overwhelmingly sad. You were one of the lucky ones, a woman that had married into a wonderful family that were warm, welcoming and accepting. A large family, much larger than your own, all with their own distinctive personalities that slotted in perfectly to create a mosaic of life and laughter in the Weasley family.

Arthur was quiet but sweet, always pottering about or tinkering, inquisitive with his questions and always an active listener who had the best intentions. Molly was the ideal warm matriarch who seemed to never stop, always helping her family in some way or another. She was wickedly quick with her wit and almost omniscient, an inviting character that you wished to never see the bad side of. Percy and Bill were quiet in comparison to the other children whilst Charlie was the sensitive one, a little more relaxed in his approach to life. Audrey was shy and quiet but very nice and Fleur was charming yet fierce, which you loved about her. Ron was a grumbler, usually a little moody though his sweetness shone through, usually counteracted by Hermione who balanced out Ron perfectly. Ginny was the one you were perhaps the most fond of except George, her fearless determination was to be studied. Harry was nice too, though sometimes a little quiet around the larger group.

You loved George like your own brother, a virtue considering he was so often by Fred's side that any rift would have been detrimental to all the relationships involved. He was funny and kind, a little gentler than Fred but you loved him all the same.

Fred, your husband, was your perfect man. His sparkling eyes, freckled cheeks and fiery hair, not to mention his towering height and wide shoulders that could make your mouth water. He was the funniest person you'd ever met and you adored his mischievous side, though you had heard he'd mellowed in recent years.

All of them were perfect in their own ways, and then there was you. The muggle.

Getting married to Fred Weasley had been the best decision you had ever made. Sure you had your regular spats just like any other couple, a few crossed words and little digs every now and then but there was never a day that you weren't happy. You'd never doubted your love for him or your futures together, feeling with assured certainty that Fred was your end game. You'd live a life with Fred that couldn't be matched, filled with fun and laughter. You'd grow old together and cause havoc right up until your last breath, exactly the way life should be.

It had been a shock finding out that the man you'd met had been a wizard, a very, very big shock. You'd assumed he was joking at first, knowing he was a natural prankster that had told you that he owned a joke shop with his brother. But it wasn't a joke and was very much real. Your world had opened up that day and though you had to live under the veil of secrecy, it was an incredible life to lead. At first it had been wondrous if not a little overwhelming, suddenly the idea that anything was possible and learning about everything that was so foreign to you. Sure some of your friends had married out of their culture and you'd watched as they blended their lives together and created a melting pot of language and culture at home. But this had always felt different, bigger somehow- special.

But you couldn't deny that surrounded by so many witches and wizards with incredible talents you would never be able to replicate, you felt completely inadequate to be in their lives.

Especially now you were pregnant.

Molly had been your biggest support, offering and insisting to help out wherever she could. They didn't have much in the way of money but that didn't stop her and Arthur from helping in ways that you hadn't even considered at first. Molly had taken it upon herself to knit your unborn daughter an entire wardrobe, specifically saving her last reel of golden thread to embroider her initial onto the clothes once her name had been chosen.

It was the little things you noticed the most, like always making sure you had somewhere comfy to sit, your cushion plumped for you, your random craving foods already stored in. Seeing Molly in this way made you realise just how alike her and Fred were in that way, the little acts of service showing their love when it didn't need to be verbalised. She'd given you tonics that were tried and tested in the family to help with your sickness when regular muggle medication couldn't help.

The magic was a big help of course. On the days when the pregnancy exhaustion set in and you could hardly make it through the day without a nap, Molly would be round straight away without question to help out. She never overstepped your boundaries, never pushed you and never overstayed her welcome. With a flick of her wrist, your house would be immediately tidied, with the pots in the sink beginning to wash themselves and an array of other magical help.

There was one undeniable question that had bothered you almost from the moment you found out you were pregnant. Would the baby be magical too?

Fred had told you about purebloods, half bloods and muggleborns a few times, mostly at the beginning of you finding out about the wizarding world. You'd met Hermione of course, a muggle born witch who was apparently brilliant, her childhood being based in the non-magic world not hindering her abilities at all. But you also remembered Fred mentioning something called 'squibs', which you believed to be people born to magical parents, one or both, without magical abilities.

Ironically, only after you were pregnant did you ever consider the fact that you might give birth to a child with no magical abilities despite your entire life having been without the knowledge of magic up until meeting Fred. Once your mind got ahold of this thought, it became consumed by it, your mind spiralling from your insecurities.

What if your daughter was born without magical abilities and was treated like an outsider for rest of her life? With a family like Fred's it would hardly be possible to hide the wizarding world from her, especially considering Fred's job. Their family was known for being pureblood, how could you have come and ruined that? Or what if your daughter was magical and grew to be embarrassed by a mother who couldn't perform the simplest of spells? What if she loved her dad more than you because he had special abilities that made him fun that you couldn't even dream of and you just became the boring muggle mum she tried to hide away? You couldn't fathom the hurt it would cause either way and yet your mind couldn't help but wander to these dark thoughts.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" You heard from the doorway, alerting you to Fred's presence. Apparently you'd been too consumed by your thoughts and your tears to realise he had entered. You were sat in his childhood bedroom, whether it was Fred or George's bed you didn't know, with tears still stream in down your face.

Fred immediately jumped into action, as he always did when he saw your tears. He closed the door behind him and took a seat on the bed beside you, reaching his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his body.

"What's made my sweet girl cry? If it's Ron he's dead." You can't help but let out a chuckle through the tears at his words, knowing he'd jump at the chance to mess with his younger brother even at hive age.

"No, it's no-one," you say, trying to reassure him whilst also trying to calm yourself down.

"Is it too much for you? We can go home, mum will understand."

"No, well yes but no," you say quietly, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving when they had been nothing but accommodating for you. He stays quiet now, sensing that you would open up to him and you pause, trying to find the right words and hope that all your thoughts don't tumble out of you all together.

"I'm not magic," you say quietly, wiping your slightly puffy eyes on your sleeve as you fight to hold back more tears.

"Debatable but go on," he interjects, using your little inside of joke of you seducing him being magic to try and cheer you up. You simply nudge him gently, telling him to shut up.

"What if our daughter is magic and she's embarrassed by me?" You sniffle, averting your gaze from his as more tears threaten to spill from the weight of your words.

"Baby, there is nothing about you that could make our daughter be embarrassed. Maybe your singing could be improved but really that's-."

"Fred I'm serious," you say, annoyance spilling into your voice as you lose your temper with his attempts to joke. "What if she hates me because I can't do all the amazing things you can do? I can't magic up twinkling lights or make things walk up walls. You have this incredible ability that I'll never have, I'm just going to be her boring mum that holds her back, the reason she can never be a pure blood."

"First of all, how dare you talk about my wife like that, and secondly, there's not a way on this earth that could ever be true. You aren't magic no, but she'll have enough of that from us, imagine all the incredible things you can teach her that I never knew about. The things you've shown me, taught me, the movies and the music and everything else in between. She'll have the best of both worlds."

His words actually do work to make you feel better. You hadn't thought of it like that, that your role in all of this could be her little sanctuary away from the wizarding world.

"And what if she's a squib? What if she has no magic?" You say, heart breaking at the thought that your precious baby could ever be seen as an outcast. Your tears start anew, your shoulders involuntarily moving up and down with the force of your tears. Fred's hand reaches out to cup your chin, his fingers hooked underneath so he can gently raise your point of vision towards him.

"Then we will figure it out, but regardless she will be the most loved little squib anyone has ever known. She'll still have the best of both worlds and she'll be a tiny version of her mummy, exactly like I've always wanted."

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley x you #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fic #harry potter fanfic #fanfic

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cuteandhughesy · 3 months ago

Note

congrats on 1k!!! so deserved, your writing is amazing! can i pls request prompts 1 and 11 for barzy?? love you 🫶

prompt no. 1: "you're such a loser" + prompt no. 11: “let me distract you”

18+ under the cut

"wait so you're telling me that dumbledore only kept Harry alive so that voldemort would be the one to kill him." mat’s confused, squinting at the tv casting the only source of lighting in the otherwise dark living room.

you’re tucked into his side, so close that you might as well but sitting on his lap—but that just the way mat likes it.

his thick fingers trace circles on your hip bone over your leggings, a soothing and comforting tickle that could lull you to sleep if you weren’t so into the harry movie playing on the tv.

mat’s voice cuts through your intense focus, making you sigh. you’ve always been a huge fan of the harry potter movies—getting lost in the magic and nostalgia that they carry, and no matter how many times you watch them, the movies will always have you hooked. your boyfriend has never seen them, which was appalling, so every free night he has, you’re putting one on.

hence is constant questions—which yes, this is probably his 20th for this movie…and it’s not even over yet.

"yeah,” you say, “pretty much."

“damn,” mat huffs, pulling you deeper into his side, eyes flickering away from the screen, “and to think he was my favourite.”

you hum in acknowledgment, not giving him your attention as you watch snape’s memories flash on the tv. he pouts dramatically at your lack of attention, head falling to your shoulder like he’s been kicked.

sure, mat doesn’t hate the movies—they’ve been entertaining at the most. but they’re not his favourite, and he’s kinda glad you guys are on the last one. mat is bored and wants your attention like the clingy man he claims he isn’t.

slowly he presses his lips to your pulse point, giving you a 5 second long open mouthed kiss and then moves farther up your neck—just in an inch—to repeat the process.

your eyes roll gently. you know exactly what he’s up to. “mathew,” you warn, hand gripping his under your shirt as it begins slowly riding up—resting just under your boob.

mat smiles against your skin, “full name? sheesh.”

“eyes on the screen.”

he groans, the hand that’s not under your shirt enclosing over your knee cap before slowly sliding up your thigh. “I wanna have my eyes on something else,” mat hums, pressing a delicate kiss to your jaw.

you squirm, a half smile on your face. “if you want to be a potterhead, you have to watch this and pay attention—this is about to be a pivotal moment.”

mat pulls back, brows pulled in confusion. “a potterhead? is that like a drug term?”

“no,” you laugh, smacking his peck lightheartedly. “it’s a hard core harry potter fan,” you correct, eyes finally tilting up and meeting his.

“are you a potterhead?” mat asks knowingly, lips quirked up in a half smirk that tells you he already knows your answer.

you nod, looking back at the tv, “yes.”

“you’re such a loser babe,” he breathes a laugh, kissing your cheek affectionately.

but your mouth falls, eyes comically wide as you look back at your boyfriend, “hey!”

mat’s grin doesn’t falter, and he wraps his forearm around your middle, not giving you the chance to pull away from him. “it’s a compliment, my little nerd,” he hums softly, hand sliding under your thigh and lifting your leg— manoeuvring until you’re dropped over his own leg, spreading your thighs.

you swallow as mat leans back down, attaching his lips to your neck—sucking, kissing and nibbling your sensitive skin. instinctively you head falls back against his shoulder, breath quickening as your arousal spikes. “mhmm,” you pause, “not sure about that.”

“c’mon,” he teases in between licks, “you’re okay.”

“you’re distracting me,” you sigh after a beat, mat’s fingers inching closer to the waist band of your leggings—his other brushing over your bare nipple under your top.

his lips brush your jawline again, “good.”

“mat.”

“let me distract you,” mat mumbles, hand slipping under your waist band, brushing and teasing just below your belly button—fiddling with the lace of your panties. “you’ve seen this movie,” he states the obvious, breath warm as it fans across your spit slicked skin—giving you goosebumps.

“yeah but you haven’t,” you whine.

“if you let me make you cum i’ll watch the movie until I have it memorized.” his words make you whine, hips jerking as your hips jerk instinctively, seeking mat’s fingers.

it’s all mat needs to hear before his fingers dip under your panties. his calloused pads tease your puffy clit, switching between slow circles around the bundle and firm figure eights—each one making your breath hitch desperately.

he doesn’t stop kissing your face, heavy breath fanning across you’re already warm face as mat dips down to your entrance, fingers slipping through your arousal. “you’re wet.” he grins cockily, scooping the lubricant with his ring and middle finger, dragging it back up to your clit.

“shut up,” you stutter, eyes fluttering pathetically as mat spreads your arousal over your clit. you’re entire pussy has become a slip and slide for your boyfriends fingers.

he laughs against your ear, “that’s no way to ask me to touch you baby.” he says, sucking on the lobe of your ear as his fingers slide back down towards your fluttering hole.

your hips lift in search of further stimulation, the action sending mat’s palm to roughly bump your clit. “mat please,” you hiccup.

“better.”

he inserts his two thick fingers into your entrance, slowly stretching your walls as he slides in—further and deeper until his knuckles are the only thing visible. mat’s hand is nothing but a bulge under your leggings. he’s so close and warm, making everything feel dirty and sexy.

mat begins thrusting shallowly, but still providing enough stimulation to have you moaning. his fingers work you expertly, while the palm of his hand rubs your bundle of nerves.

“that feel good baby?” he breathes, mouth brushing your jaw as he nips the skin affectionately. your eyes are trained against the movements of his hands under your clothes, the rhythmic thrusts that have you increasingly soaking his fingers more and more.

the movie is long forgotten as you moan, basking in the euphoric feeling of mat’s fingers reaching so deep inside you—pressing against that spongy spot that makes you feel like you’re dying.

“what was that?” mat taunts, picking up the speed of his thrusts into your pathetically weeping entrance. he can feel a ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his fingers, a mixture of your cream and arousal dripping down his palm and seeping onto your thong and leggings.

you sob, hand darting down to touch his over your pants. “yes.”

mat hums happily, “good girl.” he switches his pace, fingers held in tightly with your walls, palm flat against your clit as he begins rubbing your pussy—fast and firmly. your jaw drops at the new realm of pleasure, back arching off his chest as he provides the perfect amount of stimulation.

“fuck,” he curses lowly, entranced on the way your face pulls in pleasure, “you’re soaking my fingers baby. you like making a mess on my hand?”

you nod, too busy trying to chase your lapping breath to form a coherent sentence.

mat grins, “good, ‘cause i’m not stopping until you’re leggings are completely soaked.”

—

(unedited)

#🍾 ⊹˚₊ 1000 celly #❣️answered #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #nhl blurb #nhl smut #hockey blurb #hockey smut #🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic

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fandomtrumpshate · 3 months ago

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Fan Labor Golden Needles

At the time of posting, we still have 26 glorious fan labor auctions that have no bids. That means this could be your chance to make a small donation and get some help with beta reading, sensitivity reading, specialist expertise, or even some more unique offers!

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Jewish & American culture-picking, sensitivity reading for Jewish, aromantic, asexual, transgender (especially transmasculine), ADHD, autistic, and chronically and mentally ill characters, as well as writing queerplatonic relationships. Specialist expertise: Archives and archival work, stringed instruments and orchestras, queer history, scientific & medical history, historical research

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I am a Judaic studies student and have a good familiarity with ancient Jewish history, as well as WW2 German and USSR front. I can also provide knowledge about dog training, knitting, Hebrew Bible, Jewish practices, migraines and chronic paid. I can provide sensitivity reading for gender nonconforming (agender, nonbinary), Bisexual/ Frey sexual. I can provide any type of beta reading needed. I tend to ask a lot of questions, and notice small details.

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Mouse9 is offering Betaing for The Magnus Archives/Protocol; Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle stories, BBC Sherlock, Elementary, Enola Holmes, Sherlock & Co.); 9-1-1 and 9-1-1 Lone Star

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I am also a native Filipino still living in the Philippines so I can help with the culture picking and translations in Filipino.

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have some (slightly rusty) skills in Latin and Old English if you need help to translate short pieces for spells or other purposes.

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winchestered_again is offering Sensitivity reading for Stranger Things; Any fandom they've created for before; and It by Stephen King

I have experience with stigmatized disorders that are often/mostly demonized/sensationalized in media, such as OCD (bar O-OCD/Pure O-OCD or cleanliness OCD, the most well-known), BPD, NPD, and DID to name ones that are probably the most known. I can also help where things like those + disorders like Autism intersect with gender identity and sexuality, particularly with FTM or Non-Binary / Genderfluid identities and can also speak on the AroAce spectrum of sexuality.

#golden needles #fth 2025

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write something about love bites pretty pleaseeeeee like Harry’s obsessed with giving them

Yes 🤭🤭🤭🤭 here is a tiny one!

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- kinda dirty hehe

——

“So pretty.” Fingers brushed over her sensitive skin as she looked in the mirror, trying her best to ignore how the sensation wanted to make her shiver. The large form behind her wasn’t helping her achieve that at all. “You look so gorgeous tonight but… my favorite are these.” The marks on the curve of her neck that he’d sucked into pretty bruises, blooming purple.

It was no secret between them that Harry quite liked the marks on her, but he liked putting them there the most. “Thank you.” She laughed through her nose, blending the makeup on her cheeks before setting the little sponge down. “But you’re very distracting, you know that? How am I supposed to cover them if you’re petting all over them?”

“Don’t!” The whine was nearly comical as she caught his scowl in the mirror. “Don’t cover up the art, precious. Leave ‘em there.” It was a travesty, in his opinion, any time they were covered with makeup. Even if she was quite talented at the magic of making them disappear, he didn’t appreciate his little marks of love being covered up. “S��not like we’re going to the Louvre- which, they’d probably appreciate the art anyways. We’re goin’ for drinks at a dingy club to buy overpriced martinis while we chat shit while I wait for you t’get tired enough for me to bring home and love on you.”

Harry was many things. Blunt was one of them.

“Tell me how you really feel, H.” She snorted, putting powder under her eyes. Her hand stuttered though, when she felt him tuck his face into her neck and a wet, hot swipe licked over the marks. It was a bit pathetic how quickly she felt lax, like a dog rolling over for belly rubs, but she gave a shaky exhale as his teeth found a new patch of skin to nibble on.

“I feel like… you should leave those marks so people know t’fuck off, that you get fucked well, that you’re mine. Let their imaginations run wild about how I gave ‘em to you balls deep, or if I did them just like this. As long as they know that you’re a loved and taken woman, m’a happy man.” The grumbles against her skin were finished with another bite, eliciting a noise blooming from her throat.

It was hard to say no to the man in most capacities, with his soft green eyes and his strawberry pout, but when he ran his hands over the front of her dress and his tongue over her throat as he found a new patch to work on, sucking harshly enough to make her knees weaken and her clit throb between her legs? It was impossible. “Harry…” the sigh of his name was accompanied by the lull of her head back against his shoulders, letting him slip his hands under the front of her dress and the makeup brush fall into the sink.

“Lucky we’re even goin’ out when all I want to do is worship that sweet cunt all night. But I’ll be good, I’ll let you get finished with your makeup and all that if you leave ‘em be. Show ‘em off for me. Please?” The plead was melted into her bones, breathing picking up as his fingers cupped over her lace covered cunt, holding it firmly. The man knew how to get his way and this was a solid example. The sweet and silly vibe of the room transforming into the hot and sensual teasing one that he had mastered the art of. “I’ll let you choose whatever you want me t’do to you tonight. Whatever my girl wants. Jus’ let me give you another one and leave my art alone. Everyone should be able to see it.”

How could she say no to that?

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles au

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marsprincess889 · 9 days ago

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Uttara Phalguni ☀️

Part 2

Here is part 1, read it before you read this.

Other traits of Uttara Phalguni women, spiritual reasons behind their traits, overview.

The smart mouth/girl next door

To deviate a little from the royalty theme, Uttara Phalguni women in a more mundane story and context share the personality traits with the privileged characters who I've just discussed. And although the circumstances change, many of the thematic patters stay the same.

Hermione Granger from the "Harry Potter" movies, played by Uttara Phalguni ascendant Emma Watson, is an archetype of the young Uttara Phalguni girl. She does not mind talking back, she's smart, she's capable, she's fierce but sensitive, and she feels a little awkward at first because she does not feel desirable or "womanly" enough for the boys around her (that's all before Krum takes her to prom, I know, but I felt like she went through a journey to get there. That does continue the theme of people/men around her taking her for granted).

Hermione was the one student out of the main characters who was born in a completely muggle family (both of her parents are humans without magical abilities), that might a nice representation of the "Earthy" nature Uttara Phalguni women. But Hermione herself always defended her heritage fiercely, trying to not let any bullying get to her.

Rory Gilmore from "Gilmore Girls" is another example of the smart girl-next-door archetype, who is played by Uttara Phalguni Sun Alexis Bledel. The whole bookish "not like other girls" trope can be traced back to Uttara Phalguni and more prominently, to Ketu nakshatras ( both Emma Watson and Alexis Bledel also have Ketu primary placements).

"Gilmore Girls" is a show about a family (Uttara Phalguni's theme) and it focuses on the three generations of women in that family (again, the focus on females relates to Uttara Phalguni). I have not watched the show but I have seen a few scenes and I know the characters a little. Anyways, I know enough to include an interesting observation.

I was inspired to include this example after seeing an IG post about Rory and identity diffusion, which was not related to astrology at all. I think it refreshed or my phone died and I lost the post so if any of you know the user I'd love to credit them.

Note: I think that identity diffusion relates to Ketu prominence (especially having a prominent Ashwini nakshatra) more but I thought that it was interesting within the context of Uttara Phalguni's patterns regardless.

Identity diffusion is not a medical condition, but a psychological term used to describe a state of indecisiveness and passivity, where it's hard for the individual to forge a clear path ahead (I think everyone has experienced that, it's common and even normal among young adults). From what I've learned, it has less to do with identity and more to do with the stability and the clear visibility of that identity, since what's I've read described it from an external viewpoint. The Sun, ruler of Uttara Phalguni, is the natural indicator of the soul, and the sign of Leo, in which it begins, has to do with identity. It then moves into the sign of Virgo, the natural ruler of the sixth house, which deals with enemies, challenges, hurdles, people meddling in your business left and right. Virgo is a practical sign that does not have time to be concerned with emotions, which feels restrictive and unfair to the big-hearted Uttara Phalguni. Bridging those two different signs, Uttara Phalguni has to manage the difficult task of balancing their personal integrity with the practical reality, enough for their soul (the Sun) to shine through. The key is to stop overcompensating and adjusting constantly to other people, no matter how much peer pressure they experience through it all (the other side of the coin of the cow yonis: in Uttara Bhadrapada, the individual has to work and submit to their soul in order to save it and gain material safety, while in Uttara Phalguni, the individual has to find a way to adjust the practical reality to the truth of their soul).

Uttara Phalguni, being eager to please and compromise, often ultimately gets underappreciated for their efforts and sometimes hated for "trying too hard", which ties into many of these stories, especially this one.

Another example would be Elle Fanning as Lily_ a young girl living on a farm eith her older relatives in "We Bought A Zoo" (which is an Uttara Phalguni movie), who also conveniently works there (the Uttara Phalguni theme of getting work from relations). spoilers She's sweet and helpful to the new owners of the place, always being friendly with a boy her age, bringing a sandwich to him every day. They get attached to each other, but she gets hurt because when he thought his family would go back to the city, he was happy and eager to leave right in front of her, taking her affection and care for granted. She stops bringing sandwiches and ignores him after that day, only then he realizes that he's taken her for granted and goes to apologize and make up. (That storyline was unbelievably cute, that movie overall is so wholesome, I can't...)

The "big city" girl

In the 1980 Italian film "The Taming of the Scoundrel", Uttara Phalguni moon and ascendant Ornella Muti plays Lisa_ a beautiful socialite from the city who gets herself stuck in the house of a farmer after a rainstorm. Saturn, the planet often paired with the Sun, is related to agriculture. Seeing that she was treated nicely, and the because the farmer caught her attention, she fakes an illness to prolong her stay, but the farmer is onto her, and does outageous things to send her away or to get under her skin. They have an iconic push and pull dynamic that you see in many couples involving sun women and both of the cow yonis too.

She's also seen as pure, highly privileged and "too proper" for the village life at first but she proves that she can do more than what others think she's capable of, including some of the more physically demanding tasks that are considered masculine.

The way Lisa demands princess treatment and is eventually denied it makes for a nice comedy. A similar dynamic occurs with the last movie example you'll see later. Uttara Phalguni is "the princess" in many stories, as we have seen.

I just realized that in these pictures she's chilling on the bed and talking to her friend on the phone(Uttara Phalguni's symbol. It represents the back legs of the bed, reminding us of leisure while also doing something else/multitasking, because Uttara Phalguni connects Leo and Virgo/5th and 6th houses/Sun and Mercury. Purva Phalguni is the front legs, representing Venusian passion and procreation) while pretending to be sick to get princess treatment. If that is not Uttara Phalguni idk what is. Also, she might seem dishonest and manipulative but she wants to stay because she actually likes the farmer who took her in and enjoys their dynamic. Also, if I remember correctly, her boyfriend from Milan was not great soo... (she never cheated though).

I also want to mention Sandy from "Grease", played by Uttara Phalguni native Olivia Newton John, as the iconic "good girl" who has more to her than it looks. She's basically the perfect example of the archetype. The interplay between her and John Travlota's (Purva Phalguni native) character Danny describes the purpose and the dynamic of the Phalguni pair, which is to attract, form bonds and procreate (procreation is more directly tied to Rat yonis, especially Purva Phalguni). John Travolta also has Pushya_ a Saturnian nakshatra, so this couple is another iconic example of the Sun-Saturn pair. Saturn represents the lower class, and Danny is apart of the 50s Greasers, who were made up of the lower class, while Sandy is a privileged girl.

A nice element in the story is that Sandy's transformation occured from the influence/help that she received from the community that she found herself in. Uttara Phalguni women always feel tied to their communities and even if they feel like the odd one out (which was definitely the case in previous examples), the pressure or need to adjust and compromise for the benefit of the tribe is still strong. As we saw before, even if they a adopt a different persona or behaviors (which are often edgy), their true personalities never change, as they always had more in them than what it seemed like, and their souls always find a way to shine through, no matter how much the outer circumstances test them.

This also might manifest as Uttara Phalguni women confidently embracing their "good girl" persona (if that is indeed true to her), because they know that it does not mean that they are "weak", "bland" or "uninteresting". When the Sun is healthy, there's no need to adjust to outer projections, it can just shine through in its radiance and stability, and then its easier to see the material reality adjust to the soul's truth.

Notable examples of this are iconic characters portrayed by Uttara Phalguni ascendant Julie Andrews: Maria from "The Sound of Music" and Marry Poppins.

To close out media examples, I want to talk about the movie "Leap Year" (2010).

"Leap Year" is a great example overall to understand Uttara Phalguni women, for many reasons.

The main character, Anna (played by Uttara Phalguni moon Amy Adams) is a hardworking woman living in Boston, US. She finds out that her long-term boyfriend was in a jewelry shop, and afterwards he invites her to a date. Naturally, she thinks she's getting proposed to, but the box turns out to contain earrings.

Dissapointed, she finds out about an old Irish tradition: woman can propose to their boyfriends on every February 29th and men cannot refuse. Since her partner had to fly there, she plans to follow and surprise him with a visit and an engagement.

Nothing goes according to plan, as she has severe difficulties getting to Ireland and during a rainstorm, she gets stuck in the village of Dingle, when she in fact needed to get to Dublin. As soon as she arrives, locals make fun of her "big city girl" persona, which from their view is much more privileged. Despite this, she turns out to be more strong-willed, resilient and, perhaps, stubborn than what they anticipated.

I don't want to spoil everything, but this movie is about what makes a truly great bond and what we should really value in connections. An interesting detail is that Anna expresses that she felt that she could not rely on her father, which perfectly explained her micro-managing and stubborn personality. This is her dialogue with Declan, who promised to take her to Dublin after they met in the village:

Declan: Why don't you stop trying to control everything in the known universe? It's dinner. Have a little faith. It'll all work out.

Anna: Heard that one before.

Declan: Well, maybe you should have listened.

Anna: Really? You think? It'll all work out. My dad was the king of "it'll all work out." Time shares in the Bahamas, mobile video stores, whatever the next big nothing was, all our money went right after it. But don't worry, it'll all work out. Cut to me working two part-time jobs after school and us getting our house repossessed on Christmas Eve. Ho, ho, ho. So you will forgive me if l don't listen. I'm sorry.

Declan: No, I'm sorry. A father's someone you should be able to rely on, you know?

I was planning on reviewing this movie thoroughly as I rewatched it recently and was astonished by how perfectly it told the story Uttara Phalguni women and the events and feelings that they deal with in their lives, but I just don't want to spoil anything and I think it might be better if you guys watch it yourselves. It's a great and wholesome film, I think you'll love it 🙂.

Here's a great clip from earlier in the film, but I'd advise to watch the whole movie.

youtube

With Uttara Phalguni women, it's common to feel like you cannot completely rely on your father or other men in your life. I made a public post here, asking people with Uttara Phalguni primary placements to shortly describe their relationships with their fathers or father figures. It was not nice, you can see the comments yourselves, and the vast majority of them are women.

The wounding of Virgo

Much like its opposite on the axis_ Pisces, Virgo is a nakshatra that has connection to vulnerability. Pisces heralds a time of completion_ the full-circle moment and the feeling of peace that comes with it. Virgo is a place where the "workload" is at its highest_ it's right in the middle (alongside Libra_ both being opposite to the end and the beginning of Pisces and Aries). Pisces is a place of unity (Ketuvian) but Virgo is a place of division (Rahu) and the vulnerability of Virgo is not like how it is in Pisces, although they're interlinked: Virgo feels vulnerable because it feels like it cannot rely on anyone.

The sign of Virgo is named after the Virgin, symbolic of feminine energy that "has not been penetrated by the masculine". Virgin goddesses in many mythologies were really just goddesses who were unmarried and independent, although some embodied the word "virgin" literally. The unwillingness of Virgo women to submit to masculine energies comes from their inner wound of feeling abandoned by the masculine energy that they craved and/or having the masculine energy imposed on them (in any way) that they deemed unworthy. They are the ones who see masculine distortions clearly or the ones who have felt those energies naturally since early childhood. As a consequence, many Virgo women feel a deep need to free themselves from unworthy masculine energies and protect themselves from them (as they see other women in their receptivity and rarely have the kind of masculine support that they want, they put that responsibility on themselves). At the same time, they protect their inner softness and femininity by putting their best foot forward/rarely showing weakness, especially to men. This often manifests the most directly in the nakshatra that is fully in Virgo_ Hasta, but as Hasta is ruled by the moon and it knows how to utilize the lunar femininity, it's, in a way, more comfortable in that position.

Uttara Phalguni is the first nakshatra that is introduced to the sign of Virgo and coming out of the extravagant Leo (and also being ruled by Leo's ruler_ Sun), it has trouble staying big-hearted once it meets the meticulous and critical energies of Virgo, where people are not there to be their friends. Uttara Phalguni women are too honest and respectful towards themselves to play dirty in a way that goes against their natural generosity and kind hearts. This often means that the ones who do, walk over them, mistaking the kindness of Uttara Phalgunis as weakness. Uttara Phalgunis often push back with stubbornness and/or pure force of their will, they try to never ever give up their spiritual high ground (just like Uttara Bhadrapada). Since in women this is seen as less feminine by others, and since they're the most open with their energy, they are the ones, out of three nakshatras of Virgo, who struggle with embodying their true femininity the most.

Unlike Hasta and Chitra (other Virgo nakshatras), who are way more comfortable with manipulation, Uttara Phalguni needs honest, loving and supportive connections, because it's the nakshatra of families and bonds, and manipulation goes against their morals and integrity (Solar). So, they try to utilize their Mercurial cunning that only serves the tribe and strengthents the necessary bonds.

This emotional/spiritual/psychological wound of Virgo women is hidden, out of necessity, so that nobody takes advantage of it. And so it's unseen. This is why Virgo is related to passivity, because it cannot say that it's weak or hurt, it can't explain itself because that would be another way to extend their energy to others and risk being siphoned of it. Virgo women wait for people who see their true self, despite their concious or unconcious, willing or unwilling attempts to cover it up.

And the loving Uttara Phalguni might just be the one who needs it the most. That is why I think that Uttara Phalguni women are often "used" and need to be extremely discerning about their bonds. The running theme among Uttara Phalguni women is a journey towards settling into their true and natural femininity and balancing it with weeding out unworthy masculine energies and utilizing their desired ones that are given to her.

Uttara Phalguni's yoni animal is also associated with service and fertility.

This is a little sadder and maybe even tragic side to Uttara Phalguni: sacrificing your wishes/boundaries/time for the good of the community or the people you love, because there's no other choice, and being taken for granted or sometimes even hated for it. The lack of true love from partners, friends or family is a sad theme among these people, as they try to "earn" love or work for support by supporting other ten times more, but that only makes them viewed as people to walk over.

"The Giving Tree"_ a classic children's picture book, written and illustrated by Uttara Phalguni Sun Shel Silverstein, tells a story of a tree and a boy. It starts with a "tree who loved a boy" as the boy would sit under it and use it to play, pluck fruit or shirld from sunlight. As the poem progresses, the boy grows and goes through many phases and his relationship with the tree does too. Many have interpreted it as a metaphor for a relationship where one of the partners get used. I think that it is also about the female as the giving tree, since the feminine already represents nature, and Uttara Phalguni represents the "giving" aspect of it.

Here's the link for the online version of the book.

To end on a much better note, in all the other stories, Uttara Phalguni women manage to break free from their self-opressive and overgiving tendencies and take their true place in the community. The key was choosing yourself day by day, every day, and nourishing only those relationships which make you feel like yourself, which truly make you feel like you. Easier said than done, I know, but when you enter the sign of Virgo, the nitty-gritty is the rule, you have to deal with it, without neglecting your soul.

Uttara Phalgunis understand the importance of family and community: they are needed for individuals as well as for the society at large. The theme of serving the family/the tribe is strong in here. Just like the auduence learns in these stories, serving the family and following your own heart is one and the same, even if at first, to the Uttara Phalguni native, it's an incredibly painful choice. No relationship can flourish without true love, support and respect of both indoviduals towards both themselves and the other and no community can exist without those relationships. Uttara Phalguni relates to the empowerment of the individual within the family, how every member deserves to follow their heart, despite what duties are imposed on them. Every kingdom starts with a strong and true individual at first.

You don't have to choose between family and self, because true family already supports and values you. The kingdoms are built on tribes and communities, tribes are born from connections between two people bound by marriage and all of those relationships should be built on real love, loyalty and support, because otherwise, they'll fail.

Uttara Phalgunis have that inner knowing of how all of those relationships should function, they are always ready to fight for what they know to be right within their hearts and they are the ones who have both the power and the resilience to defend what's worth defending, resulting in a truly powerful, supportive and abundant unit that they can proudly call their kingdom. ☀️👑

...

I did go over almost all of these myself but it is much better to watch them and see the Uttara Phalguni themes yourself, because I still feel like I have not fully said everythung that I wanted to say in the way that I wanted to. So, here are some series and films to watch: "The Mask of Zorro", "Downton Abbey" (Sybil, Cora and Violet), "Outer Banks" (Sarah), "Grease", "Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story", "The Great", "The Princess Diaries" (Queen Clarisse), "The Sound of Music (Maria)", the "Harry Potter" franchise (Hermione and professor McGonagall), "Tuck Everlasting" (for Winnie, the larger theme of this film is connected to Bharani), "The Taming of the Scoundrel", "Riverdale" (Betty), "Braveheart", "Gilmore Girls", "We Bought a Zoo".

Ketu is currently in Uttara Phalguni until later this year, so it is quite a good time to understand these energies.

...

Thank you for reading 🤍 I've spent two months on gathering all the information and then writing this into a digestible text, so I'd appreciate feedback a lot. I know that this is not a video but so far, this is the format I'm the most comfortable with. It is free for everyone to read and share as long as you credit me.

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sleepysheepytea · 1 month ago

Note

When your art got me back into HP-

Also PLEASE infodump more headcanons, they give me life-

EHEHEHEHHEEEHEHEE IM OPENING THE FLOODGATES

*warning for footer tickles mentions and a bit more intense tickles mentions!!!* please skip this post if u don't like either of those <3

ALSO IF YALL HAVE ANY OF UR OWN PLS THROW THEM AT ME I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR EVERYTHING

OR IF U WANT ME TO YAP ABT ANY OTHER CHARACTER LMK

Harry:

VERY ticklish obv

tickle spot is probably his tummy and hips

like Draco, he isn't used to being tickled at all, unless it was in a mean way, so he's a little wary about being tickled

his friends made it better tho

he does the folding lawn chair thing when he's tickled when standing - he just collapses

super squirmy, even if he's not really trying to get away

has an adorable laugh, very giggly and a little on the quieter side

he's 50/50 with tickling, he likes it sometimes, while other times he'll whack the person repeatedly until they stop

he's often a target of the Weasley twins too, if he's with Ron when they go on a rampage they're absolutely both getting destroyed

he and Hermione were on the recieving end of a ticklish initiation done by the twins when they visited them over the summer - and nearly every day afterwards

he actually enjoys tickling others, he's not very good at it, but he likes to try!

he and Ron get into tickle fights disturbingly often - it usually ends with Ron winning, but there have been a few occasions where Harry is able to pin him down and just go ham on his feet

has tried to tickle Hermione a few times, and it never ends well for him

since finding out in their second year that Draco was ticklish, Harry likes to very discreetly tickle him whenever he gets the chance and then act like he's doing nothing of the sort

Ron complains to Harry a lot about how his brothers tickle him relentlessly, which accidentally has opened Harry to many effective ways to tickle him

Ron:

very experienced lee if that makes sense

he's pretty used to being tickled half to death by his brothers, so he knows exactly when to run away, where to hide, and how to defend himself if he's threatened with tickles

he is extremely ticklish, and probably most sensitive on his foots and sides

SO giggly, and he has the cutest boyish laugh ever - he also squeals and squeaks like crazy

doesn't usually mind being tickled by his friends, they're not as mean as his brothers

kicks like crazy even if his feet aren't being tickled

very wiggly, and it's very difficult to pin him down cuz he knows how to escape

def the type to scream bloody murder if he's poked

just because he attends Hogwarts does not in any way mean that his brothers let up on tickling him - if anything, they do it more since their parents aren't there to stop them

he is very often the victim of brutal tickle attacks from the twins, they'll chase him about the halls, catch him by suprise, magically tickle him in class so he gets in trouble, everything

he's also an incredible ler, but he doesn't usually use his skills often

being one of the youngest siblings means that he's picked up almost every tickle tactic known to man

he's not a malicious ler at all, so he usually backs away from tickling others, unless he's in the right mood, in which case… run

he will, however, give tips on how and where to tickle when others are tickling his friends (or Draco)

he very casually knows everyone's tickle spots and what gets them the most, he just knows what to look for

the only one he'll willingly tickle on a somewhat regular basis is Harry - he's too scared of Hermione

Hermione:

ehehehehee ticklish too

tk spots are knees and sides

she has a sophisticated demeanor, so it's a little hard to get her to actually laugh out loud, but if you do, she's LOUD MAN

her nose scrunches up when she laughs and it's the cutest thing

is kinda indifferent abt tickling, she likes having fun with her friends in a good ol tickle fight, but prefers to be more serious on a regular basis

the only one really bold enough to tickle her is Harry, sneaking a squeeze on her knee when they're studying (usually only to be blasted with rictusempra directly after)

is more of a kicker than a squirmer - she's definitely whacked both Harry and Ron in the face several times

as they got older, Ron began to fiddle around with her hair when they're hanging out and she'll let out a few squeaks if he accidentally brushes her neck

she's a mean ler - she's studied tickling spells and charms and stuff extensively to have in her back pocket in case her friends annoy her

she has absolutely shot a tickling charm at Draco during one of their classes to get him in trouble more than once - he's never been able to figure out who it is

she'll threaten Harry and Ron with tickles so that they study fjdshjkf

Draco:

ridiculously ticklish

SO dramatic

the physical embodiment of HAJKFHKDHSHDJFKHK

screams, slaps, kicks, flails, the whole shebang

he fr FLIPS OUT

like Harry, he's not really used to being tickled, so he really doesn't know what to do

he doesn't like being tickled, but not so much the feeling, more so him laughing and feeling weak in front of others

his tickle spots are under his arms and his sides

he has the most dorky laugh ever and it's so cute

it's so cackly, and he makes a bunch of weird noises when he's tickled

he SNORTS omg

hiccups too

threatens to tell all superiors if someone tries to tickle him, sometimes he's taken seriously, most of the time not

he's definitely given a few of the other Slytherins bloody noses when they've tried to tickle him

they often pull a move where they dangle him upside down off the back of a couch and tickle his feet from the other side so he can't hurt them, it usually leaves him in tears

is a very inexperienced ler

he doesn't really tickle others unless he's getting revenge for a wrecking (which happens to him a lot, but he usually just keeps silent about it out of embarrassment)

if he's going to tickle someone, he usually does it with magic, cuz he doesn't really know how to do it with his hands

#hp spam #tickle headcanons #lee!harry #lee!ron #lee!hermione #lee!draco #footer tickles warning #fluffi chooses violence

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slitherinky · 5 months ago

Text

Masterlist | About me | Requests

The Magic of Forgiveness

Setting: soft!Theodore Nott x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut and fluff, MDNI, fingering, oral sex (fem and male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie & Theo being more nice than he should

Summary: On a frosty Christmas Eve, Theodore Nott’s distant demeanor towards you unravels as he finally confesses the truth behind his distance: his overwhelming feelings for you. The tension melts away as he offers not only a heartfelt apology but also a special gift...

3117 Words

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall glittered with floating snowflakes, their icy shimmer mirroring the wintry magic that seemed to overtake every corner of Hogwarts as Christmas drew near. The castle, cloaked in frost and decorated with festive garlands, felt like a living fairytale. Students bustled through the hallways, their laughter mingling with soft hum of Christmas carols.

You found yourself walking through the long, drafty corridors of Hogwarts, surrounded by the lively chatter of your friends. The scent of winter followed you as your boots clicked softly against the stone floors. It wasn’t long before your small group reached the familiar classroom door, which led to your last class of the day.

You threw your books onto one of the tables with an audible thump. Taking your seat, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Just one more period, then you could hurry back to your common room and get changed. After that, it was nothing but a relaxing night with friends until the feasts tomorrow.

The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace. Professor Binns was droning about yet another goblin rebellion. The rhythmic monotony of his lecture, coupled with the soft scratching of quills and the occasional whispered exchange between students, created an almost trance-like atmosphere. You found your gaze wandering to the frost-covered windows, your quill tapping absentmindedly on your parchment as your thoughts drifted far from the lesson at hand.

As you reached for your inkpot, a folded piece of parchment appeared on your desk. You blinked, certain it hadn’t been there a moment ago. Glancing around, you noticed nothing suspicious — no one looking your way, no hint of a culprit. Curious, you unfolded it, your heart skipping as you read the delicate handwriting.

Meet me tonight by the Christmas tree in the courtyard.

The note was unsigned, and your mind raced. Was this some sort of prank? Or something more… genuine? Your fingers grazed the edge of the parchment, tracing the loops of the handwriting as if they could give you a clue. It didn’t look like anyone’s you immediately recognized, and yet, there was something familiar about it.

For the rest of the lesson, you couldn’t focus. Who had sent the note? And why?

As you packed up your things at the end of class, your eyes darted toward the front, where Theodore Nott sat, his sharp profile illuminated by the pale winter light. You couldn’t help but remember a time when the two of you had been inseparable, sharing your deepest secrets during late-night conversations in the common room. But somewhere along the way, things had shifted. He’d grown distant, his easy smiles replaced by guarded glances. Now, he seemed as disinterested in you, as you had been in the lesson.

The evening couldn’t come fast enough. As you slipped out of the common room and made your way to the courtyard, the air was crisp and tinged with the scent of pine. The massive Christmas tree stood in the center, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and glittering ornaments. Your breath formed clouds in the chilly air as you hesitated, half-wondering if this was all a mistake.

“You came.”

The voice startled you, low and soft. You turned to find Theodore Nott standing behind the tree, his hands tucked into the pockets and his face half buried in his green and silver scarf.

“It was you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, stepping closer. "Yeah. It’s me. Look, I know I’ve been… distant. And I’m sorry."

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Theo, why?"

He hesitated, his breath visible in the cold air. "I… I didn’t know how to face you anymore. It’s not an excuse, but I was scared. You mean more to me than anyone else, and I thought… if I kept my distance, maybe it would hurt less if something went wrong."

He fell silent, and for a long moment, you simply stared, your thoughts whirling. His words had knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling like you were suspended in time.

"Theo," you said at last, "what are you talking about?"

He let out a frustrated sigh, as if he’d already said too much.

"I have feelings for you y/n. Ever since we were first years. I thought we were just friends, but I want you to be more," He paused. "I thought you would have left me if I had told you."

His confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, all the confusion and frustration of the past months melted away.

"You’re an idiot," you said, still in shock of what he had just said.

"I know. But I’m here now. And I want to make it up to you."

Before you could reply, he gestured toward the castle. "Come with me. I… I want to show you something."

Curious, you followed him as he led you through the snow-covered grounds and into the dungeons. The familiar green glow of the Slytherin common room greeted you as Theo ushered you inside. The space was quiet, as most of the students had left after the last lesson to go home for the holidays.

"Wait here," he said, disappearing for a moment. When he returned, he held a small box and motioned for you to join him by the window. Snow had begun to fall outside, the flakes dancing against the dark sky. He opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a polished emerald dangling.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours.

You took the necklace, your fingers brushing his. "Theo, it’s beautiful."

He smiled softly. "Not as beautiful as you."

The words hung in the air, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned closer. His lips met yours, warm and soft, as the snow fell gently outside the window. In that moment, all the distance, all the questions, faded away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the promise of something new.

As you pulled back, your chest felt fluttery and your lips tingled with the memory of his touch.

"I- I think that’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had."

"I’m glad," he murmured, taking a step closer, "but I can make it even better, if you let me."

Without thinking, you reached for him, and he met you halfway. Your lips were still tender from the previous kiss, but as they brushed together, they seemed to spark with new energy. This time, his lips moved more insistently, his tongue seeking yours out. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heady taste of each other. His teeth grazed your lower lip, and you felt the kiss deep in your stomach.

"Theo," you moaned. The sound seemed to encourage him, his arms wrapping tighter around you as his mouth trailed down your throat. His breath ghosted across your skin, raising goosebumps.

The sight of his teeth biting your lip made you moan, and suddenly you felt hungry for more. More of what had been hidden from you for so long. More of what you wanted from him at this very moment. Your tongue swirled with his, tasting him. Your mouth was so hot and wet from his saliva.

“You’re blushing,” he said, pulling slowly away from the kiss. His voice was low and teasing.

Your cheeks burned even more at his words, and you crossed your arms in a feeble attempt to look composed.

“I am not,” you shot back, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips as he straightened and took a step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reached up, brushing gently against your cheek, and your breath hitched at the contact.

“You’re a terrible liar, Love.” he murmured, his thumb grazing your jawline.

Before you could formulate a reply, Theodore moved again, this time slipping one arm behind your back and the other under your knees. In one smooth motion, he lifted you off the windowsill.

“Theo!” you exclaimed, instinctively clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

His smirk deepened, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You looked like you were about to collapse. Can’t have you fainting after one kiss, now can we?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the warmth of his arms around you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the heat rising to your face made it hard to string words together. “I wasn’t going to collapse,” you muttered, but your voice was softer now, more uncertain.

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, clearly unconvinced as he carried you through the common room.

The space was quiet, the usual chatter and footsteps absent. The remaining Slytherins were long asleep, leaving only the two of you under the dim, flickering green light.

When Theodore reached his dorm, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside. His room was tidy, almost minimalistic, with a faint scent of cedarwood and parchment lying in the air.

He lowered you onto his bed with care, his hands lingering just a moment longer than they needed to before he straightened. But instead of stepping away, he sat down beside you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight.

“There,” he said softly, his tone lighter now. “Safe and sound.”

You pushed yourself up slightly, your gaze flickering between his face and the faint pattern of shadows on the wall.

“You really didn’t have to carry me,” you said, though your voice lacked the sharpness you’d intended.

“Maybe not," He took a deep breath, "But I wanted to. I want to adequately apologize for my behavior the last months. May I?" He asked, leaning forward.

Your heart began pounding in your chest.

“Yes,” you replied.

His mouth met yours, this time without hesitation. He pushed you against the pillows. His hands roamed your body, his lips making their way down to your thighs. He was seeking your consent, and you found yourself wanting to give it, to give him every part of you.

You trembled at the sensation, his lips and tongue sending shivers up your leg. His fingers kneaded into your thigh, pressing gently into your muscle. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your reactions.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Mhm,” you repeated while nodding, not trusting yourself to say anything more.

Theodore’s fingers tightened around your thighs, his thumbs trailing across the seam of your trousers. Your head tipped back at the touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured. “I want you to see me. See how much I love this. See what I’m giving you.”

His thumbs brushed higher, grazing against your pussy. You felt your breath catch, your thighs quivering. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his tongue tracing delicate circles on your skin. The sensation made you quiver, your legs falling open for him. He hummed his approval and teased your slit with his fingers, drawing slow circles around your clit.

“Theo,” you moaned, your hips twitching.

He kissed his way up your thigh, nipping at the crease before gently pulling at your pants and underwear. You lifted your hips for him, allowing him to slide them off. The cool air tickled against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his mouth.

When his lips closed around your clit, you gasped, your whole body clenching. He groaned at the sound, his fingers joining his mouth as he rubbed you in slow, deliberate motions. Your head rolled back, and you could feel your legs trembling, your toes curling against the mattress.

“Feel good?” He asked between kisses.

“Yes,” you gasped. "god yes."

He growled softly and slid one finger inside of you. “How about now?”

Your hips arched at the intrusion, your body clenching around him.

His tongue swirled against your clit as he fingered you, his strokes slow and deep. Your pussy clenched around him, your vision blurring. You were close to the edge, your breath quickening with every stroke of his tongue, every movement of his fingers.

“Theo, I’m-“ you gasped, but couldn’t finish before your orgasm overtook you. Your back arched, and you cried out, the feeling ripping through you. You felt like you were falling apart, the sensations too powerful to bear.

Theodore withdrew his fingers and licked them clean.

"You taste delicious," he moaned. "Like sweet cream and vanilla."

He kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste your pussy on his tongue.

You laughed, the sound weak. Your body was still buzzing from his touch, the memory of it still echoing in your senses.

"You're a bastard," you said, but there was no heat behind your words.

Theodore smirked, his eyes glinting. "So I've been told." He leaned back, his gaze sliding down your body.

You noticed then that he was still dressed. His robes had slipped down in the heat of the moment, revealing a tantalizing slice of his collarbone. The sight sparked an ache in your stomach, and you suddenly, desperately wanted to see him — really see him.

“Take off your clothes,” you ordered, your voice low and commanding.

He blinked, his eyes wide. “Really?”

You nodded, your pulse thrumming. "I want everything of you Theo."

Without a word, he reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. He undressed slowly, deliberately, each movement almost agonizing in its slowness. When the last button was undone, he shrugged the garment off and let it fall to the floor.

Your breath caught at the sight of him — his chest was broad, his abs tight and defined. He looked even better than you’d imagined, his body lean and toned. A trail of dark hair dusted his chest, trailing lower to disappear beneath his trousers.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, but you didn’t move. You wanted to savor this, to commit every detail of him to memory.

With a smirk, Theodore reached down and began to undo his trousers. They slid down his hips, revealing a pair of dark boxers and a bulge that left no doubt as to his arousal. You swallowed, your mouth dry at the thought of his cock inside you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured, glancing up at you.

You nodded wordlessly. “Yes.”

He slipped out of his boxers, his cock springing free. It was long and thick, the head flushed red with arousal. He stroked himself slowly, his fist moving in long, lazy motions.

“Come here, Love,” he murmured.

You obeyed, reaching out to take his cock in your hands. Your palms were warm against him, the skin hot and velvet-soft. You stroked him, your hands moving in tandem with his. His head tipped back at your touch, a groan escaping his throat.

“Fuck y/n,” he rasped, his voice low.

You moved down, your tongue swiping across his tip. He was hot against your lips, salty and musky. You licked him slowly, tasting him thoroughly as you worked your way down his shaft. His fingers tangled in your hair, his breath coming in short, quick gasps.

You took him between your lips and sucked, moving slowly as you took him deeper. His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed on his cock. Your tongue slid down his length, swiping at the tender skin. He let out a loud moan at the sensation, his hips jerking.

Suddenly he pulled your head back.

"Get naked for me, Love." he growled. "I want to see your body."

You obeyed, stripping the garment off and tossing it away. The room was warm, but a shiver ran down your spine as his eyes traveled your body.

He ran his fingers over the necklace he had just gifted you, trailing down over your small, pebbled nipples. You let out a soft gasp. "You're perfect," he groaned. "Lay back on the bed."

You did as he asked, sliding back on your elbows and spreading your legs for him. His eyes ran down you, his breathing speeding up. He gripped his cock in one hand, trailing the hand through your legs. You gasped, arching up into the touch. He felt so fucking good against you.

Theo let out a soft moan, pushing inside of you. The feeling was overwhelming. He stretched you out, his thickness rubbing against your inner walls. You let out a small cry at the intrusion. He paused, looking up at you.

"Are you okay?" he rasped.

"Fuck, yes," you moaned while nodding.

He pushed deeper inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling back and thrusting slowly inside of you again. Your whole body lit up with pleasure at the feeling of him moving in and out of you. His hips were quick, his strokes deep and strong. You could hear the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of him fucking you.

"I will never let you down again," he moaned. "I promise."

His thrusts sped up as he fucked you, pushing deeper inside of you. He pulled your thighs wider apart, groaning as he watched himself disappear inside of you.

"Look at how pretty you look taking my cock," he gasped.

You met his eyes, the connection making you burn up with desire. His gaze ran over your body, taking in every detail.

He pulled you up to him, your legs wrapping around him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He pounded into you, thrusting in deep and strong strokes. His hands ran down your back to grip your ass, lifting you up and down on his cock. You felt like he was holding you together, like you would fall apart if he let go of you.

He brought his mouth to yours, kissing you passionately as he fucked you. You felt overwhelmed by his touch. He was consuming you. Your whole world was centered on him and his touch.

"I'm going to come," you cried out.

He grunted, his pace quickening. You felt his cock twitch inside of you as your pussy clenched, your orgasm waving through you both. He filled you with his come, your pussy clenching around him for more. Your chest heaved as you gasped for breath, your vision blurring as pleasure overtook you.

When your body relaxed, he leaned down and kissed you. "Merry Christmas, Love."

You smiled at him, pulling his face to yours.

"It sure is." You kissed him again, softer this time. "Thank you."

He pressed a last kiss to your forehead before he almost inaudibly whispered in your ear

"I love you."

You want more? My Masterlist

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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hollowed-theory-hall · 10 months ago

Note

can you talk more about harry being able to feel magic throughout the series?

Sure, so there are a few instances I recall of Harry feeling magic and I honestly don't know some of them. Like, some are questionable evidence and some are much clearer...

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

(PS, 149)

Compared to Ron:

“See?” Harry whispered. “I can’t see anything.” “Look! Look at them all…there are loads of them.…” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

(PS, 151)

Ron is implied to not feel the urge to look at the mirror the way Harry does. Not only that but Harry just instinctively gets how the mirror works, where you need to stand to see the reflection, and why Ron can't see it from where he is standing. This isn't something he experimented with before, he just, knew.

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, 218)

Harry senses the Horcrux in the diary. It's possible this is because he, too, is a Horcrux and not because he is sensitive to magic in general, but I'm noting it here anyway.

“Three . . .” muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, “two . . . one . . .” It happened immediately: Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then —

(GoF, 73)

In this above one everyone is urged forward, it's the hook painful sounding sensation I'm not sure others are experiencing.

Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, “Imperio!” It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

(Gof, 231)

Again, I'm just not sure how the Imperius is supposed to feel, but Harry describes a light floating sensation besides his worries being wiped away (the latter of which I think is part of the curse, but I'm not sure about the first one)

“Disillusionment Charm,” said Moody, raising his wand. “Lupin says you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won’t stay on while we’re flying; this’ll disguise you better. Here you go —” He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck.

(OotP, 54)

Harry feels the disillusionment charm washing over hum in cold trickles. Again, it's hard to say if it's normal or not since no one else describes feeling anything like that from what I remember.

“Sirius?” Harry spoke again, but much more quietly now that he was nearer. He had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway. Gripping his wand very tightly, he edged around the dais, but there was nobody there. All that could be seen was the other side of the tattered black veil.

(OotP, 773)

I talked here more about Harry and his weird sense regarding the vale, but yeah...

“You’re quite right,” said Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers; the sight of them made the back of Harry’s neck prickle unpleasantly.

(HBP, 67)

It could be a description of stress and discomfort, but I don't think Harry used these words to describe discomfort or worry at any other point in the books. And considering it's Harry Potter who spends most of his life in discomfort I think it's interesting and likely Harry sensing the curse.

Harry could not tell whether the shivers he was experiencing were due to his spine-deep coldness or to the same awareness of enchantments. He watched as Dumbledore continued to revolve on the spot, evidently concentrating on things Harry could not see

(HBP, 557-558)

This is what I mentioned in the post anon is referring to.

I don't have notes of something like this from DH, since I'm still compiling them, but I did find this scene to add on the train of Harry's magic being super intuitive and intuned with his emotions:

Dust swirled around Harry like mist, catching the blue gaslight, as Mrs. Black continued to scream. “Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers—“ “SHUT UP!” Harry bellowed, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her

(DH, 171)

Harry literally casts "shut up" as a spell, and it not only works, but it works when no one in the Order succeded in shutting the portrait up magically! Harry is so insanely powerful I don't know what to do with this information anymore...

#hp #hp meta #harry potter #asks #anonymous #anon asks #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #harry james potter

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