#Pansy and the Gossip Queens

[wzrdradiopod]

WZRD After 2020

https://traffic.libsyn.com/wzrdradiopod/Bonus_WZRD_After_2020.mp3 It’s WZRD’s 5th anniversary celebration and I’m your hostwitch Bess! Here’s a little gift from WZRD to you: an interview with the incredible hosts of Harry Potter after 2020. They’re so insightful, even when thinking about their—surely inevitable—wizard rock band. We’ve got so much to talk about but first, how about some music?…

[mrs-prongs]

Mrs Lily Potter (neè Evans)

(OOC:I’m going to make a moodboard later)

about me:

hey, my lovelies! I’m Lily — or some may call me Mrs. Potter, Evans, Lils, or Red!

I am at the ripe age of 33 years old! I have a wonderful husband, James, with whom I share our lovely son, Harry, with.

My hogwarts friends/foes + teachers + my son:

@mr-prongsss - James, my wonderful husband! We had quite the whirlwind romance back in school <3

@prongs--jr - Harry, my wonderful son! I love him to pieces. I still remember the day when he threw baby food on his uncle moony <3

@lupins-luxery-insan1ty - Remus, one of my dearest friends! I am beyond grateful that he is teaching Harry.

@behind-bars-baddie - Sirius, again, another dear friend! He’s such an amazing uncle, and he is always helping us a family.

@ - Peter, I love that man! He’s incredibly funny, and very kind.

@that-super-duper-weird-one - Xenophilius, he’s definitely whimsical! He’s also Luna’s father.

@imbetterthanuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu - Barty, he was definitely… odd while in hogwarts! We did have a good conversation once.

@onehundredandsixteen - Albus, our beloved headmaster..

@the-pureblood-queen - Narcissa, I’d rather not comment.

My son’s friends (and the people he relentlessly complains about):

@walking-talking-dictionary - Hermione, she is an incredible role model to Harry! (Harry, you need to start studying with her.)

@ron-b-weasley - Ron, he’s a sweet but mischievous boy.

@ginny-not-ginevra - Ginny, she’s a wonderful girl! Me and her mother always gossip about them two.

@betterthanfred - George, despite his sibling’s placid nature, him and his brother are the polar opposite. They’re like James and Sirius.

@betterthangeorge - Fred, George’s twin. Absolute trouble makers!

@neville-sucks-at-magic - Neville, what a kind soul he is. He’s incredibly strong considering his circumstances.

@luna-rya-lovegood - Luna, she’s sweet, but very quiet. I always hear about her and Harry’s conversations about nargles and other creatures.

@delacour-petale - Fleur, I heard she’s a sweet French girl! She sounds very kind.

@pansies-and-snakes - Pansy, i haven’t heard too much of her? I believe she’s a slytherin.

@bleached-blond-bitch - Draco, apparently he is ‘an annoying bleached blonde’ according to Harry. I ought to have a word with his parents.

@purebloodprincezabini - Blaise, I heard that he’s also a trouble maker. I could be wrong, though!

@angie-jj - Angelina, I heard she’s quiet and reserved, but she seems very nice.

Please note: this is a Lily evans/potter RP blog! If you do not like the content, please don’t interact. If you’d like to join the rp, please contact @luna---lovegood ! My main account is @/werewolfadmirer

[omgthatdress]

Growing out of the thriving queer communities in Harlem, Berlin, and Paris, the late 1920s saw the arrival of an era that historian George Chancey would call "The Pansy Craze."

It was a time when not just drag queens but other flamboyantly gay performers gained a level of popular acceptance that had never been seen before.

The so-called "queen of the pansy craze" was a performer named Jean Malin.

Starting his career as a female impersonator, His quick wit and acid tongue soon turned him into one of the most popular emcees in New York City.

the dinner menu from a club where Malin hosted

Always dressed in elegant masculine attire, Malin swished and lisped through his act. At six foot tall and two hundred pounds, he could also scrap with anyone who dared heckle him, if he hadn't already insulted them into submission, first.

In spite of his reputation and outward manners, Malin had to maintain a certain level of plausible deniability, and in 1931, married chorus girl Christine Williams.

In 1932, he traveled west to Hollywood, hoping to find stardom there. He got minor roles in two movies. He was hired for a third minor role, but was replaced for being too effeminate.

Malin soon bristled against the stereotype that he felt was holding him back. "You want me to be a great big sissy!" he exclaimed to Hollywood gossip columnist Walter Winchell, "I want to progress!"

On August 10, 1933, Malin gave a "farewell performance" at the Ship Café in Venice, California. He, boyfriend Jimmy Forlenza, and actress Patsy Kelly all piled into his sedan. Malin got his gear confused and accidentally sent the car careening backwards off the Venice pier. Forlenza and Kelly were severely injured but survived. Malin, however, did not.

[jadeshifting]

— 25 DAYS OF SHIFTMAS (DAY 15)

Elf on the Shelf — who is your main wingman/women/person? what is your dynamic? what do you guys do when you hang out?

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

★⋆. “if you hear them both coming, just do yourself a favor and go the other direction.”

★⋆. — Pansy and i are chaos incarnate, wrapped in silk and venom. the best and longest-standing duo in Slytherin, we’re the epitome of “bright minds think alike, but trouble finds us faster”

★⋆. — it’s all knowing looks, whispered schemes, and laughter that turns heads in the common room

★⋆. — we’re enablers through and through—whether it’s cheering each other on in a petty rivalry or cheering for risky magical experiments

★⋆. — the two of us are so in sync we practically share a brain cell, but it’s one that’s always teetering on the knife’s edge of unhinged and brilliance

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

★⋆. — at Hogwarts, we’re the queens of idling—lounging on plush green sofas, swapping scandalous stories and mocking the absurdities of the day

★⋆. — our study sessions are half research, half scheming; every charm and curse we learn is immediately tested on each other, complete with gleeful grins and, “Tell me if this stings.”

★⋆. — we rule sleepovers with chipped emerald nail polish and whispered secrets so dark they’d make even Peeves blush

★⋆. — late nights mean plotting, practicing wand work, and perfecting the art of ruthless elegance

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

★⋆. — summers? they’re pure, lavish escapism. think slumber parties in decadent family manors, surrounded by enchanted vanity mirrors and potion kits

★⋆. — we paint each other’s toenails in shades of black with silver glitter and venom green

★⋆. — we wander manicured gardens, weaving flower crowns only to charm them into wilting dramatically

★⋆. — we’ll spend hours lying under the stars, gossiping about boys, girls, and our grand plans for the future

★⋆. — when we hug, it’s fierce, like we’re daring the world to tear us apart. always together, practically inseparable

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[lizthewriter]

pansy parkinson as different romance tropes

〉fake dating  fake dating queen!! pansy is doing her best to get over draco but it's not as easy as it seems. he seems to be well aware of the fact and very much a dick about it, doing his best to embarrass her. she refuses to be disrespected, so she comes up with the best idea she can - fake dating. it doesn't matter who you are - her best friend, a background character, however you imagine yourself. you are her best choice and one to shock all. she didn't seem to think this through, however, when you're forced to do many a romantic thing that involves touching, kissing, and being generally adorable, you both start to fall in love. i think the FIRST (that's right, first) love confession would come from you but she wouldn't reciprocate, either because she hasn't gotten over draco or because she's scared to ruin what you guys have. the second love confession would be during that classic scene, where pansy would have to admit you had never been dating all along to dozens of people but that she had developed feelings for you and really wanted to try again. your love would be heartening and wholesome, something many wouldn't expect from the ice queen of slytherin.

〉pen pals to lovers  now hear me out, hear me out!! one day, you accidentally leave a little journal note in your library book when you return it, and pansy stumbles across it accidentally. she reads it (for juicy gossip ofc) but then finds something heartfelt and vulnerable instead. in a moment of perhaps insanity, she writes something back and sticks it in the book before she can change your mind. when you realize you lost your journal entry, you go crazy and search everywhere - it takes you almost the whole day to realize you might have left it in your library book. finally, you open the book and find another piece of parchment sitting there. and so it begins. without either of you knowing who the other pen pal is, you write letters to each other multiple times a week and start to bond more and more. bonus points if you're enemies or if you're friends with one-sided pining / one of you is dating another person. when you finally figure out who the other pen pal is, it's not at all some crazy emotion - you feel calm, content, like you always knew you loved pansy. the love confession would definitely be a mind-blowing soft and loving kiss. your love would be sweet, innocent, and honest.

〉mean girl to lover  / internalized homophobia  okay so ofc we know that pansy was the og mean girl in the books. i feel like, because of how she was raised, she definitely has some internalized homophobia. so put two and two together . . . this works well with an outcast/unpopular!reader. pansy is so gay, like sooooo gay, but she doesn't let anyone know. she dates men to keep up appearances. however, one night at a slytherin party she gets a bit drunk and . . . let's just say you two end up in a very compromising position. after that night, she can't get away from you. she needs you, in whatever way you'll give her. at first you're okay with being treated as a booty call, but then you come to your senses. you refuses to keep meeting her in secret - you want her to stop hiding you away like your relationship was a bad thing. she gets upset, screams at you, and leaves. but she, too, misses you. a lot more than she thought she would. her love confession would come in two forms, both during breakfast in the great hall. either she grabs you by the tie and kisses you in front of everyone OR she stands up on the slytherin table, loudly claims to everyone that she is a lesbian and then procedes to ask you out. your love can be passionate and hot, but most of the time it's flirty, sweet, and fun.

[movie recs: dash and lily (netflix)]

[t1oui]

aggressively plotting the muggle hs au before i inevitably move on from it without writing so much as a sentence ANYWAY here are basic intros to the main cast

harry potter (he/him, bisexual) - age 15 (year 11) - lives with regulus and james and recently moved to the area to be closer to lily, pandora, and luna (they moved a few years ago bc lily got a new job) - wants to join the swim team

hermione granger (she/her, lesbian) - age 16 (year 11) - another new student, moved b/c her parents were moved to the dental clinic downtown

ron weasley (he/him, pansexual) - age 15 (year 11) - president of chess club - wants to be goalie for the school hockey team - viktor's host family and not happy about it (at first anyway ;))

pansy parkinson (she/her, transfem, lesbian & asexual) - age 15 (year 11) - wants to be a journalist, part of one of the local old money™️ families - on the swim team (?)

draco fortescue-black (he/him, gay) - age 15 (year 11) - lives with narcissa, alice (his parents), & neville (his brother) - big drama queen

neville fortescue-black (he/him, straight) - age 15 (year 11) - draco's brother, narcissa & alice's son. also frank longbottom's son ofc, frank visits a lot - has liked hannah since year 7

blaise zabini (he/him, bisexual) - age 15 (year 11) - very charming to hide the fact that he's a hopeless romantic - does track & field and has set like 3 school records

cedric diggory (he/him, transmasc, pansexual) - age 17 (year 12/sixth form) - captain of the swim team - fleur's host family - studying french, economics, and math for his a-levels

fleur delacour (she/her, aromantic asexual) - age 17 (year 13/sixth form) - exchange student from france, staying with the diggorys - studying psychology, english language/literature, and business

viktor krum (he/him, bisexual) - age 16 (year 12/sixth form) - exchange student from bulgaria, staying with the weasleys - on the rugby team & in chess club - studying german, psychology, and art

cho chang (she/her, bisexual) - age 16 (year 12/sixth form) - cedric's best friend, does swim w him - theater kid (stage crew) - studying art, english language/literature, and chemistry

ginny weasley (she/her, transfem, lesbian) - age 14 (year 10) - on the girl's rugby team - has beef with lavender brown for unknown reasons

luna lovegood (she/her, omnisexual) - age 14 (year 10) - harry's younger sister (lives w pandora and lily, goes to xeno's for one weekend each month) - helps write school paper - she's either loved by people or hated by them no in between

dean thomas (he/him, bisexual) - age 15 (year 11) - kissed ginny once last year and ron has hated him ever since - dating seamus, best friends w pavarti

seamus finnigan (he/him, gay) - age 15 (year 11) - 100% lavender brown's beard - dean's boyfriend, lav's best friend

pavarti patil (she/her, lesbian) - age 16 (year 11) - worships the ground lavender walks on but refuses to say so - hates rugby, plays anyway

lavender brown (she/her, bisexual) - age 15 (year 11) - dated seamus in year 8 - consistently flirting with pavarti, who is completely oblivious

padma patil (she/her, aromantic) - age 16 (year 11) - ron is one of the few people who can tell her and pavarti apart, for this reason they're best friends - vice president of chess club

hannah abbott (she/her, pansexual) - age 15 (year 11) - neville thinks he's sly but she totally knows he likes her (she likes him back) - gossips with padma about EV👏REY👏THING but they're not really friends

[dhr-ao3]

[T] Draco's Patronus Reveal Party [PL]

[T] Draco's Patronus Reveal Party [PL] https://ift.tt/tZ0hp9z by Charlotte_vanilla Ta krótka historyjka jest kontynuacją „Oops! I Joined The Good Guys” — jeśli nie czytałeś/łaś tamtego opowiadania, zawróć teraz, bo inaczej to wszystko nie będzie miało dla Ciebie żadnego sensu. Od ponad roku Draco uczy się, jak wyczarować Patronusa pod czujnym okiem Hermiony. W końcu mu się to udało, a cóż może być lepszym sposobem na uczczenie tego wydarzenia niż impreza zorganizowana przez Klub o 3 nad ranem?! Words: 6970, Chapters: 2/2, Language: Polski Series: Part 2 of Oops! I Joined The Good Guys Series Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Muggle-Sex-Shop-Leggend Sarah, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Phineas Nigellus Black, Druella Rosier Black Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood Additional Tags: POV Harry Potter, POV Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Severus Snape, Expecto Patronum | Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Draco Malfoy's Patronus, Furby, 3am Club, Phineas is gossip queen, Party, sippy cups, Funny, Comedy, Place Your Bets, evil furby, Ron is clueless, Broomstick Riding, innuendos galore, Any excuse for a party via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/oe4saBi February 13, 2025 at 07:36PM

[mizimuse]

Classroom Shenanigans||Slytherin Boys+Pansy Edition

Draco Malfoy

Draco struts into class like he's walking a runway. The way he flicks his robes dramatically when he sits down makes you wonder if he's practicing for some wizard fashion show.

He’s constantly bragging about his family in Potions class, but then messes up his potion every time. Somehow, it always ends up exploding.

You: “Maybe stop talking about your father’s Ministry connections and focus on not blowing up the classroom.”

Draco: "I’m sure Father could fix this."

Spoiler: Father doesn’t fix it, but Professor Snape does. Begrudgingly.

Theodore Nott

Theo’s the kind of classmate who’s just too mysterious for his own good. He speaks in riddles and barely gives you a straight answer.

You: "Theo, what’s the answer to number five?"

Theo: "Ah, the answer lies within the mind."

You: "I swear, if you don’t start speaking in full sentences—"

Snape: "10 points from Slytherin for interrupting."

You (whispering): "Look what you did!"

Theo just smirks while flipping through his textbook as if he didn’t just ruin your day.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo is the ultimate class clown, always trying to one-up everyone with some ridiculous stunt.

Mid-lecture, you get a note from him that says, “Bet I can make a frog appear under McGonagall’s desk without her noticing.”

You: "Mattheo, no—"

Next thing you know, there’s a loud ribbit under the desk, and McGonagall’s glare could melt steel.

Mattheo (whispering): "Worth it."

Blaise Zabini

Blaise is the definition of unbothered. He’s always reclining in his seat like it’s a throne, casually twirling his quill while everyone else freaks out about the upcoming test.

You: "Aren’t you even a little worried about the exam?"

Blaise (without looking up): "Worrying is for peasants."

Five minutes before the exam, he somehow manages to pull out a perfectly organized set of notes that look like they belong in a museum.

You: "Where did you even get those?!"

Blaise: "I’m resourceful. You should try it sometime."

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo is the master of sleep, yet he somehow answers every question right while half-asleep.

Professor Flitwick: "Mr. Berkshire, can you tell us the counter-charm for Levitation?"

Lorenzo, still with his head down: "It's Wingardium Leviosa, Professor."

You (whispering): "How did you even hear that?"

Lorenzo yawns and shrugs, as if sleeping through class and still being a genius is no big deal.

He’s also always late with the weirdest excuses.

Lorenzo (arriving 10 minutes late): "Sorry, I was being chased by a rogue Hippogriff."

You: "That’s your excuse today?"

Lorenzo: "At least it wasn’t a Blast-Ended Skrewt this time."

Pansy Parkinson

Pansy’s the gossip queen who never stops talking. Halfway through a lecture, she’ll lean over and start spilling the latest drama.

Pansy (whispering): "Did you hear about Daphne’s new robes? They’re so last season."

You: "Pansy, I’m trying to take notes."

Pansy: "Oh please, like you care about this lecture."

Spoiler: You totally don’t, and by the end of class, you’re both laughing about something completely unrelated to school.

[dbutsu]

wip hpdm drarry - untitled story of draco in a skirt

no i did not proofread and i will try to finish it but for now enjoy 1.5k words of exposition and one (1) line of anything explicit. this is my first time writing a fic so go ez on me...

anyway, pairing: harry x draco summary: draco wears a skirt, theres literally nothing else rating: E FOR EXPLICIT (eventually)

Hermione deems the  library much too loud to study in, so they’re in the eighth-year common room, sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace in various states of comfort, a mess of textbooks and parchment laid out on the worn rug between them.

In Harry’s opinion, it’s an upgrade from the stifling aura of the library with its towering stacks of tomes and the not-so-subtle giggle of students from all years peering at him from above their books. Today was much louder than usual though, the ever-present rumor mill working its way through the student body. Madam Pince was working the wrinkles around her mouth overtime with all the shushing. And Hermione had gotten so annoyed, she’d dragged both him and Ron to the common room by their ears as if it was somehow their fault.

At least in the common room, there was the comforting warmth of the fireplace and the blissful absence of admiring stares.

Harry ought to thank whatever saucy story is making its way around Hogwarts for pulling him out of the library, though he doesn’t find himself all too interested in knowing what it is. There can’t possibly be any gossip juicy enough to top the fact that an entire war was battled and won right inside these castle walls.

Ron and Harry are flat on their stomachs, quietly cheering for their chess pieces as they command the knights and queens into playing a game of footie with a crumpled up piece of parchment. Harry lets out a hushed ‘yeaaah!’ for his queen scoring another goal, when Pansy Parkinson’s screeching laughter precedes the sound of the portrait opening. It’s like hearing a chainsaw behind a door before it tears into the room and murders you brutally.

“-their faces!” Pansy is cackling, “We should have done this ages ago!”

Malfoy’s voice follows close behind, smirking. And even though they’re walking behind the sofas and out of sight from Harry, he just knows the sound of his smirk. “It finally shut Smith’s big mouth, I’ll admit. Can you imagine if Pot-”

“Oh,” Pansy seems to stop, belatedly noticing Hermione leaned up against an armchair on the floor, following the trail of abandoned homework to Ron and Harry laying on the ground in front of the sofa nearest Pansy. She gives Harry in particular a nasty sneer. He frowns. “Come on, darling,” she says before Malfoy can see them as well, pushing him into the staircase leading up to their individual rooms.

Ron digs a pinky into his ear, wincing. “I swear, that girl has the laugh of a banshee. George sells fireworks quieter than her. And did you see how she looked at you? She must really hate that you lived twice.” Harry laughs and tosses his chess pieces at Ron, much to the stone figurines’ dismay.

He expects Hermione to say something about that, as she usually does when they light-heartedly tease about one of the scariest moments of Harry’s life. Harry thinks it’s a good thing that they can move past it in humour, but Hermione sometimes gets a little somber at it. It doesn’t seem like she’s paying attention though, and when Harry and Ron look over, she looks like she’s been petrified - another scary moment in their lives - staring at the staircase.

“…’Mione?” Ron frowns, sitting up in concern.

She’s quiet for a little more, lips parted, shaking her head. Her mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words and calculating in her head if maybe she saw wrong. “Malfoy…” she starts, looking a bit more red. “Malfoy’s…”

Both of them are frowning in her direction. What happened with Malfoy? He sounded fine - happy even, entertained by whatever he was talking about with Pansy. Did he come in covered in hippogriff blood? Missing an arm? Did he come in as a time-traveled version of himself, older and rugged with long hair sweeping delicately across his back and looking lean maybe with a bit of grown-in muscle and a charming look in his eyes–

“Malfoy’s wearing a skirt.”

Silence.

Harry gapes. “Wh-”

“What!?” Ron shouts.

—

Despite knowing that Malfoy is now sauntering around the school in - what he hears is - a standard-issue pleated Hogwarts skirt, Harry is never able to see it for himself.

Malfoy and the castle seem to be working together to create the perfect opportunities to hide his lower half from Harry’s sight.

At breakfast, Malfoy is seated at the Slytherin table before Harry arrives, and leaves unnoticed.

In Potions, Malfoy works with Theodore Nott at the station closest to the door until Slughorn requests his help arranging the storeroom. Harry thinks maybe he can catch a glimpse of the skirt as Malfoy steps away from his staion, and then Seamus’ fucking cauldron releases a thick cloud of glimmering silver smoke, the room exploding in complaints that they can’t see. By the time Slughorn has jauntily waved the smoke into his wand, Malfoy is gone.

Even in the hallways, there is always always something in the way between Harry’s eyes and Malfoy’s legs. A stray bludger - why the hell is there a bludger in the hallway, a gaggle of girls asking Harry inane questions, a fight between two Ravenclaw seventh-years - yelling something like I saw him first and he wouldn’t go for you!

It shouldn’t even concern Harry, he thinks. Stupid Malfoy has a skirt on, so what? Most of the girls have skirts. If he wanted to see a fucking skirt, he can look at Hermione.

For some reason, that thought makes him cringe. He doesn’t want to think about why Hermione in a skirt is resolutely not the same as a bloke in a skirt. And maybe a bloke in a skirt is definitely not the same as bloody Malfoy in a skirt. Harry might be going crazy.

Defeated, Harry declines the invitation to join Ron and Hermione in the library for another study session after dinner in favour of slumping into the common room’s squashy sofa. Hermione only lets him be when he gestures at the pile of textbooks on the coffee table.

He’s laid down on the sofa, nose dutifully buried in his textbooks, when he hears someone settle into the armchair by his feet. Distractedly, he peers out the side of his book to see who it is, then returns to reading.

Wait.

Harry looks again.

Malfoy has his legs crossed, one knee over the other, in the armchair with his jaw propped up on a loosely curled fist. He’s flipping through a worn edition of Tinctures, Elixirs, and the Human Psyche. Unlike Harry, he’s changed into a comfortable looking baggy top, very unfitting of what Harry expected him to wear for comfort. Harry expected silk button-ups, maybe a fluffy housecoat more befitting of the stifly aristocrat he is. Instead, he’s loose and cozy, hair slightly wavy and damp from a recent shower.

For some ungodly reason, Malfoy is also still wearing the skirt he’s presumably been wearing all day.

Harry stares.

It is, indeed, a skirt. The same dark grey, pleated material as the one most girls wear, with the addition of a band of Slytherin green adorning the hem. It falls delicately around the shape of - oh god - Malfoy’s thighs, plump where it presses against the edge of the cushioned seat. As Harry stares, Malfoy shifts and props his feet up on the coffee table, stretching his - oh Lord - long pale legs across its surface.

Harry takes about ten years to turn his head back to his book, but he’s not reading.

Alright. So Malfoy is definitely wearing a skirt. It is definitely 100% a skirt there, for sure. Good for him. Fashion is great. Lovely way to express yourself, that.

He looks at the skirt again.

Malfoy is looking at him.

Ah, magic theory, yes, this textbook has so much information! The interaction of elements and the magical core and all of it, so cool!

Harry yawns - forced - and stretches a dramatic arm over his head as he sits up. He darts a look to the ticking floor clock in the far corner of the common room, raising his eyebrows as if to say oh wow! That’s the time! and plucks his books off the table. He aims a thin-mouthed nod to Malfoy and gets the fuck out of there, walking calmly to the staircase and then hurrying up the steps two at a time.

He runs into his room and slams it closed behind him, presses his back to the door, tosses his books across the floor.

Hm.

He shoves his hand into his pants and fucks his fist until he spills cum down the leg of his trousers.

Ah.

[departedcrown]

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

peony & pansy!

( botanical headcanons / accepting !! )

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ? 

Aulea is in the unique position of having lived the best of both worlds. There is her life before becoming Queen, living merely as the daughter of a noble household, and then there is her life after becoming Queen. Because of this, she is afforded a unique perspective on people's personalities, motivations, morality, and intentions. While she definitely comes from a place of privilege regardless of her social standing, the way she is seen and treated as a member of a noble household is different than how she is seen and treated as a monarch.

Like many youths, Aulea in her younger years was very open and trusting of others. She had a rose-coloured worldview growing up, as being young, inexperienced, and a daughter meant that she wasn't privy to a lot of the darker aspects of her household's relationship to the rest of Insomnia, and certainly did not entirely understand, until much later, the nature of her household's relationship with the royal family. In my worldbuilding on Aulea's family and their relationship to the royal family, I mention that the noble houses of Insomnia work very much like the Yakuza, with a social hierarchy based on a patriarchal inheritance. Aulea, as a daughter, would normally have never found herself directly involved in the political goings-on of Insomnia. She was meant to be a lady first and foremost; raised in the art of ceremonial tea-making, given a proper education which included academics as well as etiquette and become prepared to one day marry — hopefully — into another noble household.

However, Adrianus, her brother and the heir, died when Aulea was just twelve years old and suddenly Aulea found herself thrust into a position she wasn't prepared for. Because she had no other siblings, it fell on Aulea now to take up the mantle of inheriting the role of the Deiphobus household in relation to the royal family. That is, she — like her father before her, and what Adrianus would have been — would become the next king's ( Regis, in this case ) military strategist. Her education changed accordingly, and she was given adequate combat training for the next four years from her father up until he, too, died tragically.

By this point, her worldview has turned on its head. No longer is Aulea sheltered from the mire of Insomnia's underbelly — she is forced to adapt and change, and her perceptions of those around her adapt as well. She becomes much like a chameleon; certainly always polite and warm, as is her way, but always looking at the intentions of others through a critical lens. This only intensifies when she and Regis begin dating, and then eventually marry.

As Queen, Aulea is in a special position to act as Regis' eyes and ears, to act almost as a second shield. Not unlike Chess ( and an analogy I'm very fond of ) — the Queen is able to move freely across the board. This doesn't always have to equate to a battlefield. Meetings and social functions are as much a process of navigation as anything else expected of a monarch. She often observes others, tucking bits of information away for later, following up on threads of gossip or flutterings of discontent. At the end of the day, Aulea is trusting to a fault with people; yet is astute enough to be smart about what information she knows, what she shares, and what she wields as a weapon.

violet : how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

Not well. Aulea is, at her heart, an empathetic person. A romantic, perhaps. For all the above points I made about her worldview upending and being guarded towards others, she does still feel quite a lot for them. Betrayal, even in its most simplistic and seemingly inconsequential form, cuts her deeply. The easiest example of this that comes to mind is - in circumstances where she lives - discovering what fate awaits Noctis.

Not that this is an inconsequential betrayal by any stretch of the word. It is a betrayal that cuts so deep, it seems bottomless in its intensity. The Astrals she has worshipped, the kami she has prayed to — what good had any of it been, if this is the future that will unfold? If, once again, she will lose someone important to her? The most important person in her life; her heart of hearts?

The betrayal becomes double-edged if she learns of the prophecy well after Regis — that he would keep it from her, even if he was trying to do good by shielding her from it — would tear her heart in two.

pansy: does your muse often reflect on their own actions ?   do they ever think a lot about the past ,   and what they could have done differently ?

I think Aulea would certainly go through phases of having wanted to do things differently — say more, do more, hold her loved ones closer had she the foresight to know she would lose them —but ultimately these thoughts are a lesson in futility. She cannot change the past, but she can forge a better future with the time she's given and though she may not live to see the fruits of her labour, she could be peaceful in the knowledge that she did everything she could to pave a way, whether its for Noctis or Insomnia as a whole.

peony : what would a ‘ happy life ’ look like in your muse’s eyes ?

A happy life for Aulea would be one where there are no titles or expectations. This isn't to say she regrets marrying Regis by any means. She loves him with her whole heart. It is simply that, had fate played them a different hand, she would have liked the idea of just being a family. Those brief hours after Noctis was first born were probably as close to her 'happiest life' that she'd ever get to see, because for just that little sliver of time, it was just she, Regis and Noctis as a family without any of the burden or responsibility of a crown.

[iris-qt]

𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜

"Something happens, and I'm head over heels..."

✧ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!, ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

✧ ᴡ/ᴄ: 3.2ᴋ

✧ ᴀ/ɴ: ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʀ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ 7ᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ

✧ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ꜰᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ɪᴛ. ʜɪꜱ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ.

Sometimes, you have to push yourself out of your comfort zone to get what you want.

And if that means asking for help from your favorite gossip that slightly terrifies you, then so be it.

“Isn’t this just a bit too revealing?” 

You turn towards Pansy, tugging your borrowed mini dress down as she puts her hand on her hips, smiling, adding a finishing touch of maroon gloss onto your lips.

She steps back to admire her work, using her hands to frame you as you mock pose.

“Y/n. You’re a work of art,” she grins, putting on her own earrings. “And most people in art are naked, so just be thankful I didn’t insist on that.”

“You’re so merciful, Queen Pancy,” you fake a bow as she rolls her eyes grabbing your hand.

“Ok, ready? What was the one rule we went over?”

Your demeanor drops at the mere thought of him.

“I know, I know…don’t get distracted by him.”

Pansy sighs, shaking you by the shoulders. “He’s not the fucking Dark Lord, y/n. Say his name.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at having to discuss the matter in the first place.

“Don’t get distracted by Nott.”

Theodore Nott.

You had to stop, but…

You’d loved him for a while

You’d loved him when he sat next to you on the first train to Hogwarts; picking scabs on his fingers out of nervousness. You’d distracted him with silly stories of your childhood. Of days spent creating little leaf huts for your ducklings and dreaming of adventure in the glades near your home. 

You loved him when you’d leave your table to sit next to him; leaning in close and sharing whispers about neverending topics. When he’d visit your dorm for a quiet night of reading and look around in awe at the cozy blankets and lamps illuminating his self-proclaimed safe space.

To say the least, you were head over heels for this boy. Head over heels for the way his eyes hid emotions if only you were worthy of revealing them. For the longest time, it seemed inevitable that Theodore Nott’s favorite person was y/n. 

Until 6th year, when Nott came back as a new boy. He’d grown what seemed like a foot and his face seemed carved of marble stone, only covered by his locks of dark hair. He was vastly desired and gained a multitude of new friends.

And he left you in the dust.

As Plato once said, "the measure of a man is what he does with power,” and Theodore Nott used that power to skyrocket his social standing until there wasn’t room for you anymore.

This year, however, was your year. The summer spent interning at the ministry had invoked a sense of confidence within you. You were always beautiful, however, you never usually showed it off.

This year, you’d decided to flaunt it.

Well, kind of..

Thank Merlin for Pansy Parkinson, your adoptive parent Slytherin.

You both headed down the stairs from the girl’s dorms, the music blaring and the raucous party already in full swing.

“Just as I planned: fashionably late,” Pansy smirks, leading you to the bar

 Every year, a different house hosts the back to school party, only for 6th and 7th years, although many lower years sneak in. This year, everyone was delighted that it was Slytherin. 

Slytherin was known for many things, and their ability to throw a rager was one of them.

You leaned against the counter, sipping a Negroni and surveying the party. You wanted to let loose and create a new image for yourself? Well, this back to school party was your chance.

Unfortunately, your eyes land on a certain boy, half obscured in the shadows of the outskirts. 

Theodore Nott was leaning against the wall, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded along to some Gryffindor girl’s words. Was it possible he became even more gorgeous over break? He seemed to have procured a perfect tan along with his longer dark locks that curled around his ears, framing his toned face.

It was sickening to look at him. Memories came flooding back of the numerous summers you’d spent with him; reading under a tree or laying under a blanket of stars. Your parents would let him come over for a few weeks, and those would be the highlight of your summer break.

And now, you feel sick to your stomach.

Especially when his eyes began roaming as if sensing you, and then they met yours. Dead eyes gleaming in surprise at the sight of you at a party. 

Theodore Nott knew you well, and he knew you were the type to spend a Friday night reading to your plants or whipping up a midnight snack in the kitchens after hours. He didn’t expect to find you drinking at a party, wearing the most sinful black mini dress that hugged you in all the right places. 

He simply couldn’t pry his eyes away.

You, however, glanced away immediately, feeling his stare a more burning sensation than the gin sliding down your throat. You swallow the rest of your cocktail in one gulp, eyes slightly tearing up at the feeling, and stride away, wanting to get as far as possible from Nott.

You knew you promised Pansy not to let him get to you, but that proved to be impossible. You looked back at Pansy who just realized you had disappeared when suddenly you ran into a figure, gasping as he spilled some drink on you. Looking up, feeling defeated, your eyes meet the hazel ones of a Ravenclaw boy named Roman Vaughn. Captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team, top of the 7th year Charms class, wealthy, and an overall heart throb with his chocolate brown skin, silky black hair, and hazel eyes. 

He had grabbed your attention before, but you’d never acted on it. What were the odds you’d run into him of all people.

“Y/N! I am so so sorry here, let me find a napkin,” he immediately sprung into action, taking you by the hand and pulling you towards the bar for napkins. He grabbed a handful and began to wipe the drink from your chest, but then he realized he probably shouldn’t be doing that. He jerked away with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Anddd I keep making this situation worse and worse..”

You laugh, taking the napkins from his hand and dabbing at the stain that wasn’t even visible against the black fabric.

“Good thing it’s black, otherwise you’d be in big trouble, Vaughn,” you raise an eyebrow teasingly as he gives you another laugh.

“I guess luck is on my side tonight,” he smiles, eyes lighting up as if his words had a double meaning.

He asked you to dance, leading you gently to the dance floor after you both downed some drinks. And that's how you spent your night, taking shot after shot of vodka with Roman’s hands on your waist and yours in his hair, swaying to the beat. You noticed Pansy grinning at you while giving you a nod of approval. Her plan had come to fruition.

What you failed to notice in your newfound glee, however, were Theodore Nott’s eyes staring at your figure with a seemingly neutral look on his face. Within was utter turmoil.

He had ceased to pay attention to the Gryffindor girl in front of him, and absentmindedly handed her his drink, finding an empty chair to sit in. 

He was aware he had become power hungry, leaving you behind last year. The truth is, the amount of yearning Theodore felt towards getting his old life with you back was insurmountable. He had felt like he was floating in a beautiful galaxy whenever he’d been with you, sitting amongst scarlett poppies. You made him feel safe with your familiar scent of vanilla and honey, melting all his troubles away. 

Unfortunately, his efforts at getting you back were pushed down.

The trust you had for him seemed to have broken.

He tried once last winter, walking up to ask you if you wanted to stop by his home in Italy for winter break. He’d overheard you already planning a trip to Belgium with your best friends, so he backed off. 

Then, he’d attempted to ask if you wanted to visit the book shop with him on a Hogsmeade trip, but when he had approached you, a random girl came up to flirt with him and you’d walked off, scoffing.

There were a multitude of other failed attempts; each one corroding his confidence more and more. He would never fully give up on you, but as more time passed, the more he felt like you were lost forever. You were a dandelion spreadings its tufts, and there seemed to be only a couple left, clinging on.

Seeing you dancing happily with Roman Vaughn proved to him without a doubt that you had forgotten about him. You have moved on.

He sighs, wondering why he was so caught up with this when they were only ever friends.

Right?

Sure, there had been lingering stares and a hint of adoration in both of their eyes. Maybe a spark of a deeper feeling that they were both too young and stubborn to comprehend. 

He shook his head, drowning himself in more drinks to forget about this night.

To forget about you.

The next day, he was sitting in Charms class right in front of your two best friends. What he heard instantly soured the rest of his day.

“PLEASE, Hannah, you have to come on the Hogsmeade trip. Y/n is going with that Vaughn dude, so I’ll be walking around like a loser,” she pouts.

y/n going with Vaughn??

Theodore had assumed whatever they had going on at the party was just some temporary, drunken fun, but the worst possible outcome from his late night overthinking came true.

Y/n was going on a date with Roman Vaughn.

Theo scoffs to himself. Vaughn. Sounds like a cheapass beer brand.

What could y/n possibly see in him? Sure, he was tall, handsome, smart…ok…

Theo sighs, putting his head down on the table. Mattheo, knowing all about Theo’s current troubles and his undying obsession with y/n, pats him sympathetically.

Theodore understood that this was your decision and your life, so, despite how much he was compelled to, he refused to meddle with your love life. He didn’t want to risk being the one to make you sad. Again..

If this was the cost of his actions, he supposed he deserved it.

The trip to Hogsmeade had arrived, and Theo felt as depressed as ever. He forced himself to roll out of bed and adorned himself in a brown sweater and slacks. His friends wouldn’t let him sulk around in their dorm during a Hogsmeade trip.

He was walking with the Slytherin gang, hands shoved into his pockets. Despite the mantra he kept repeating to himself, telling himself over and over again not to think about you and Vaughn, Theo couldn’t stop. He wondered what you were doing with him. Maybe holding his hand with your slender ones, always a bit of dirt stuck between your nails. You loved being outside and Theodore often felt like the magic of nature failed to reveal itself to him again after he stopped spending time with you. As if its beauty died with your absence. Makes sense. You could make any moment or setting beautiful. He was always happy if you were there.

“What do you think, Nott?” Mattheo elbows him, looking at him expectantly.

“Oh- Uh…what?”

“What’s on your mind that's more interesting than us, mate,” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“We were talking about hitting Zonko’s first,” Mattheo offered, grinning knowingly.

“Yeah, anything’s fine with me.”

When his friends were busy laughing at the steam coming out of their ears from candy samples, Theodore gave in to his intrusive thoughts and decided to sneak out and find you and Vaughn. Just to survey the area, make sure he was treating you right, of course. Theodore would always consider you his closest friend. 

He walked across the leaf-strewn autumn ground and spotted Roman walking into the 3 Broomsticks. You must be waiting for him there. 

He scoffs to himself again.

Of course the asshole made her wait.

He enters the 3 Broomsticks and sees Vaughn taking off his coat and sitting down at a table with his friends. Where was y/n? 

Theo stood there looking confused, wondering what happened to you. Did he ditch you for his friends? 

He walked out of the pub, stepping on crispy-looking leaves, absentmindedly enjoying the crunch.

Where could you have been? Perhaps you realized that you deserved better than Vaughn, but even Theodore knew that was wishful thinking.

He walked down a path leading down to a view of the Shrieking Shack where you and he used to sit and sip warm, spiced butterbeer on these cold autumn days. Often, he feels as if he’d give anything to turn back time. To stop him from letting you leave his life. Because life never felt the same after your departure. You were physically so close, yet so far.

He comes across a small field of poppies, red and blazing like fire with the orange leaves scattered about. You loved poppies even naming your pet ducklings after the flower. Poppy I, Poppy II, Poppy III, etc.

He laughed to himself at the memory. You always insisted you could tell them apart and to this day he didn’t know if you were bluffing or not.

He doesn’t exactly know what prompted him to, but he begins picking the poppies, intending on perhaps drying them and preserving them in a journal forever. Another remnant of you. Tying them together with a loose piece of wool from his sweater, he continues his trek to the vantage point and sees a figure sitting on the old log fence. Sighing at this obstruction, he walks closer nonetheless and notices that the figure is you. 

You were right there in front of him, sitting in the chill, scarf tied tight around your neck. 

This was his chance. His chance to prove that he could be better than Vaughn. Prove that he was worthy of a second chance; worthy of you.

He walks up to you, leaning back on the fence, forcing himself to make eye contact with you and pour his heart out.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes widen at the sight of him and you sit there, frozen, waiting for him to continue.

"Please just hear me out, ok?" he takes a deep breath.

“I know Roman makes you happy, and he makes you smile, and he’s smart and everything…I know you despise me for what I did, rightfully so, and you probably want to run for the hills right now. But, y/n, I adore you. Every second I have spent without you has felt like an endless cycle of agony. And, not only do I want you back as a friend, but I was wondering if you would consider being anything more with me. If not, that's completely fine. I suppose that's a conversation for another time. If you ever even want to converse with me... I know you’re probably on your way to meet Vaughn right now, but please reconsider. Please. And-”

You interrupt him with a suppressed laugh, putting a gloved hand to his mouth to stop his endless rambling. 

“Theodore, I’m not-”

“LOOK!” He gently takes your hand away from his mouth and desperately pulls out the small bouquet of wild poppies, holding them out to you. “Look, y/n, I haven’t forgotten, see? Remember the poppies?” He has an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes.

You can’t help but laugh at his actions, softly accepting the poppies from his hands. 

“How would I forget my favorite flower, Theodore?”

“And that's not all, I remember your favorite season is autumn because you love the warm colors and spices. I know you cry every time you rewatch that muggle movie, La La Land. I know you have a celebrity crush on the one middle-aged man from-”

“OK! I believe you, Theo, you know me too well,” you smile at him. “Can you...let me say something now?”

Theodore was certain you were going to tell him you had to leave to go find Vaughn. If anything, he had probably convinced you to go find Vaughn just to escape.

Nonetheless, he nodded, looking into your eyes with his own melancholy ones.

“I was never going to go on a date with Roman. I have no clue where you got your information,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I think you need a more reliable news source.”

“But…but your best friends? They said you were?”

“Oh yeah, I think they just assumed it because they saw him walk up to me, asking if I would go with him. They left before they could hear my answer.”

“And what was your answer?” Theodore picks at scabs on his hands, a bad habit you had noticed when you first met him on the Hogwarts Express. You move your hands to hold his, stopping him from picking his skin to death.

“I said no. I couldn’t force myself to have feelings for him, no matter how hard I tried.”

He looks at you, eyes wide with the happiest gleam. 

“Can we..start over?”

“Let's just resume where we left off,” and with that you lean your head on his shoulder as he leans his on yours, watching the autumn leaves fall to the ground. Watching himself fall for you even more; if that were even possible.

2 months later

You laugh as your snowball hits Theodore Nott clean in the face, turning his nose and cheeks even more rosy red. 

“Headshot!”

Your laughter is quickly stifled as his snowball hits you in the stomach, and you slip falling into the snow. Theodore runs up to you, laughing, laying down sprawled right next to you. He looks to the side, eyes a clear blue matching the light refracting from icicles. He gives you a kiss, lips cold yet comforting.

“C’mon, let's go inside for some hot cocoa,” he grins, watching your every breath.

You smile, nodding and standing up, helping him up with you.

“Good effort, soldier,” you salute teasingly, “but I think we both know who really won.”

He laughs softly as he envelops you in his arms, your chest pressed against his warm body. 

“Yeah. Me.”

You narrow your eyes, booping his nose as you start walking. Theodore had come over for the winter break, and you had loved every second of it. You both come across the icy pond where your ducks usually reside. You stare at it with a melancholic look, your ducks long gone since they had flown south for the winter.

Theo holds you even tighter, kissing the side of your head.

“They’ll be back,” he whispers. “Probably with wicked tans.”

You laugh at that, looking into his dead eyes, alive with a joyful light.

He can't believe all his wishes came true. They had all culminated and led up to this beautiful life with you.

“I love you, y/n..” he whispers.

“I love you more, Theo,” you smirk.

“I love you most.”

[wzrdradiopod]

Episode 104: Neville's Diary

https://traffic.libsyn.com/wzrdradiopod/Episode_104_Nevilles_Diary.mp3 Hello magical friends, especially my magical patrons whose support lets me do these interviews! I’m your hostwitch Bess and this month I’m talking to someone who I think is one of my new favorite people. So let’s get into it! Here’s “Green Eyes” by the Nargleptics. ~*~ That was “Green Eyes” by the Nargleptics, Waylon…

[netspromptbox]

30-flowers @ LJ

01. Roses :: Passion or Desire 02. Daisy :: Gentleness 03. Petunia :: Resentment 04. Pansy :: remembrance 05. Tulip :: declaration of love 06. Sunflower :: haughtiness 07. Lilacs :: Youthful or Acceptance 08. Iris :: Wisdom 09. Peony :: Bashfulness 10. Lily (white) :: Purity 11. Daffodil :: Unrequited love 12. Orchid :: Beauty 13. Carnations :: Fascination 14. Baby’s breath :: Happiness 15. Forget-me-not :: memories 16. Gardenia :: "I love you in secret" 17. Violet :: Simplicity 18. Chrysanthemum :: optimism 19. Snap dragon :: Deception 20. Queen Anne’s Lace :: Fantasy 21. Poppy :: Eternal sleep or Imagination 22. Marigold :: cruelty 23. Bluebell :: Humility 24. Cosmos :: Modesty 25. Holly :: Foresight 26. Dandelion (weeds) :: Faithfulness 27. Bird of Paradise :: Magnificence 28. Lotus (blossom) :: Mystery 29. Buttercup :: Childishness 30. Jasmine :: Sensuality 31. Lavender :: Devotion 32. Fir :: Time 33. Sage :: Virtue 34. Mistletoe :: affection 35. Camellia :: Gratitude 36. Ebony :: Darkness 37. Four leaf clover :: Good luck 38. Snowdrop :: Hope 39. Ivy :: friendship 40. Cactus :: Endurance 41. Hyacinth (purple) :: I'm sorry; please forgive me; sorrow 42. Hyacinth (yellow) :: Jealousy 43. Lily (orange) :: hatred 44. Grass :: Submission 45. Lemon :: Zest 46. Monkshood :: Chivalry 47. Narcissus :: Egotism 48. Oleander :: Caution; beware 49. Prickly Pear :: Satire 50. Rose (Black) :: Death

51. Spider flower :: Elope with me 52. Balm :: Sympathy 53. Aloe :: Grief 54. Candytuft :: Indifference 55. Feverfew :: Protection 56. Forsythia :: Anticipation 57. Nettle :: Slander; you are spiteful 58. Venus Fly Trap :: Duplicity 59. Bachelor’s Buttons :: Celibacy 60. Sweet pea :: Goodbye; departure 61. Myrtle :: Home 62. Angelica :: Inspiration 63. Begonia :: Deformity 64. Garlic :: Courage; strength 65. Yarrow :: Healing 66. Rhubarb :: advice 67. Blackthorn :: Difficulty 68. Turnip :: Charity 69. Viscaria :: Will you dance with me? 70. Carnation (stripped) :: Refusal; sorry I can't be with you 71. Cobaea :: Gossip 72. Azalea ::Temperance 73. Geranium :: Stupidity or folly 74. Abutilon :: Meditation 75. Venus Looking Glass:: Flattery 76. Dogbane :: Lies 77. Nasturtium :: Conquest 78. Thistle (Scotch) :: Retaliation 79. Tamarisk :: Crime 80. Lettuce :: cold hearted 81. Olive :: Peace 82. Hemp :: Fate 83. Rocket :: Rivalry 84. Sainfoin :: You confuse me 85. Plum :: Independence 86. Helenium :: Tears 87. Crown Imperial :: Arrogance 88. Oak :: Hospitality 89. Southernwood :: Banter or jest 90. Heath :: Solitude 91. Judas Tree :: Betrayal 92. Chamomile :: Patience 93. Betony :: Surprise 94. Furze :: Anger 95. Pimpernel :: Change or Assignation 96. Borage :: Bluntness or Talent 97. Freesia :: Trust 98. Dog rose :: pleasure and pain 99. Fleur-De-Lis :: Message 100. Centaury :: Delicacy

[harrypocter]

Parvati Patil Masterlist

Moodboard by @lanaturnergetup

Advice by @alohaemora

First year Parvati stands up against Pansy Parkinson. 

A Thousand Eyes by @ashesandhackles

The Patil twins see things in Malfoy Manor that will stay with them.

Stick Together by @starlingflight

The sorting - the first time the twins were seperated.

Dancing Queen by @hinnyfied

Parvati and Lavendar have a chat about who they’d like to go to Yule Ball with.

Parvati by @sleepstxtic-drarry

A celebration of Parvati’s name and heritage in a lovely moment between Parvati and her mother.

Gossip by @merlins-sequined-hotpants

Who else can go up against the notorious Rita Skeeter except Parvati Patil?

Princesses by @turanga4

A moment before the Yule ball between the Patil twins.

Homecoming by @bluethepineapple

Padma returns to her sister after suffering a harrowing ordeal under the Carrows regime.

Fritter by @ashesandhackles

Parvati and Dean have a chat during the Umbridge regime of the school.

Sore Subject by @incalculablepower The High Priestess, reversed. Trust your intuition. Your true self is waiting; she refuses to be contained for much longer. Want more Parvati content? Festival of Colours is round the corner! This is your chance to write or create fanart for POC characters from the HP series (can be canonically or headcanoned POC). Check out the fest details here.

[alcottsangel]

Requests: Closed

Currently Waiting: 0 Requests

Only send them in through my asks.

I write the reader as female, but if you concretise the pronouns in the requests, I will adapt to that.

I'm writing poc and plus-size friendly. If you ever feel like you can't see yourself in my fanfictions, please tell me so i can improve.

If I ever forget or do not recognise a tw!, please tell me so I can add it.

I am taking requests for smut and other sensetive topics.

I take out the right to refuse a request, if I am not comfortable writing it or if it doesn't inspire me at all.

Please keep in mind, that English isn't my native language. so yes, I make mistakes.

Do not claim my work as your own or repost it on other platforms.

My Wattpad account and my Ao3 account.

(Click on the fandom name to get to the masterlist.)

Grishaverse

Kaz Brekker

Jesper Fahey

Wylan VanEck

Matthias Helvar

Nina Zenik

Inej Ghafa

Nikolas Lantsov

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Almost all characters

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Marvel

Matt Murdock

Peter Parker

Die Drei Fragezeichen

Justus Jonas

Peter Shaw

Bob Andrews

Skinny Norris

Queen

Roger Taylor

Metallica

James Hetfield

Lars Ulrich

Kirk Hammett

Jason Newsted

Twin Peaks

Dale Cooper

Dead Poets Society

Charlie Dalton

The Lost Boys

David Powers

Sherlock

Greg Lestrade

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Spike

Dawson's Creek

Pacey Witter

The O.C.

Seth Cohen

Summer Roberts

Boy Meets World

Shawn Hunter

Eric Matthews

Friends

Chandler Bing

Joey Tribbiani

Rachel Green

Harry Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

All Marauders Era

George Weasley

Pansy Parkinson

Almost all Golden Trio Era

Outer Banks

JJ Maybank

Sarah Cameron

Breakfast Club

John Bender

Andrew Clark

Brian Johnson

Allison Reynolds

Claire Standish

If you want to request a fandom or character that is not listed, you can do so as well. I may take the request.

Little Library

Books I appreciate

Ongoing Books are tagged with ✔️

Dawsons Creek

The O.C

Stranger Things

Grishaverse

Die Drei Fragezeichen

Queen

Metallica

Dead Poets Society

Boy Meets World

The Lost Boys

Sherlock

Friends

Marvel

The Boys

Little Women

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

School Spirits

Random

Teenagers in Love - Die Ärzte

Bulletproof Jewels - Romanov ✔️

brutal - Gossip Girl

The Ghost of You - The Breakfast Club

A New Beginning - Fairy Tail

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

Sytherin Queen

Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Type: fluff/angst/smut

Summary: the Sytherin Queen and King are announced and to celebrate your victory, Draco has something unusual planned for you.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Reader (y/n), Pansy Parkinson

Warning(s): cheating (?), fingering, sex in front of a mirror

The first month of your seventh, and last, year at Hogwarts had started really smoothly. You had been no problems at attending classes and, for the first time since you attended the school, you felt like a normal student in a normal school.

But then your caring boyfriend took the matter into his own hands and did his better to remember you every day who you were and who you belonged to. He was older than you. He had graduated the year before and when you went back to the School on the first of September, he wasn’t with you.

“Troubles in paradise?” Pansy Parkinson appeared in the seat next to yours in the library and after placing her bag down on the floor, she turned completely to you and started intensely at you, “I can see the gears rotating into your brain.”

You let out a bitter smile and lowered your gaze on the opened book in front of you, not able to hold hers any longer, “Graham isn’t replying to my letters anymore,” you rubbed your hands on your face, but kept going, “We spent the entire summer together, but now he is distant and…I don’t know why I am doing this, it’s like he doesn’t even wants to try to make this work,” you spat out all your doubts regarding your relationship with your boyfriend. A tear went down your cheek and then landed on the white paper, “And I don’t know if I still love him.”

“Silly, I already know that!” she kept het voice tone low, yet it was like she had shouted it right to your face, “If it can comfort you, you’re pretty good at hiding your emotions, but you like staring…a lot,” Pansy was pleased with herself when she succeeded in getting a smile from you, “Listen, I remember how you and Graham used to be and I hoped it would work also once outside these walls. But obviously they aren’t going the way you wanted them,” she took your hands in hers and said: “I’ve never been seriously involved with someone yet, but I suggest you take your time and clear your mind about your feelings for Graham…and the other boy.”

Two weeks later you were still fervently hoping in a reply letter from your supposed-to-be boyfriend outside the school. After the fourth day you understood it wasn’t worth the wait, so you removed the necklace he had given you on 31stAugust that same year and put it into your drawer, next to your bed, unsure of what to do with it.

A few days before Pansy had convinced you to compete for the role of Slytherin Queen, which would have been assigned the night of the Ball -exclusive for Slytherins. You signed up under your friend’s insistence and there you were, in your dorm, in front of a full-figure mirror, just looking at you.

You had chosen a long green satin dress, with thin straps on your shoulders and a draped cowl neckline which highlighted your olive-skinned neck. Your parents had sent you earlier that week a piece of jewellery which came directly from your grandmother’s collection. It was a necklace representing a snake, it was entirely encrusted with shining diamonds, and at the end of it, right on the head of the snake, there were two big emeralds.

“That outfit is literally screaming ‘I’m the Slytherin Queen’,” Pansy appeared from behind the door of the bathroom and leaned against the frame of it, “Was that you the one who didn’t want to sign up for the competition?” she took a sip from a glass she then placed down on her bedside table.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you sat down on your bed, “I’m still not sure about that,” you chuckled and fidget with your fingers, “Why would I be the Slytherin Queen when there’s you, or Daphne.”

“There’s a difference between you and us. Yes, we may be the centre of gossip, but I look at you while you take care of the First Years, or while you help the Third-Year girls with their problems. If I can use this term, you act as a mum. You are the kindest Slytherin among all of us.”

You gave her a heart-warming smile and hugged her tightly, “It’s time for us to go,” you hid yourself from her while swiping a solo tear running down your cheek, “Are your ready?” your hand reached for the doorknob and turned it once you made sure Pansy war right behind you.

You climbed down the stairs and soon were met with the strong smell of Firewhiskey, introduced illegally inside the green and silver common room. You didn’t notice the whispering all around you, both boys and girls were astonished by your beauty that night. Pansy went pouring you a glass of Whiskey, meanwhile you found a free-from-people spot in the room. You detected Blaise and Theo making their way into the crowd, being soon approached by two girls per one. They were both wearing two simple grey suits, which fitted the very good.

Behind them the door of the prefect’s dorm opened, and Draco Malfoy got out of it. He was wearing an entirely black suit; the trousers covered his thin and long legs perfectly, making them look slimmer. His tie was what made you drool the most; the thing you imagined him doing to you with his black tie. You were almost ashamed by the way Draco attracted you; you had never felt anything like that with Graham, especially because the nature of your relationship was strictly based on who you were and the heritage -cultural and non-cultural- you brought with you.

“You’ll need this, trust me.”

You didn’t notice Pansy coming closer to you and handing you a glass of Firewhiskey, which you gladly took from her hands and swallowed in one swift motion, “I won’t make it ‘till the end of the night,” you whispered more to yourself than o your friend, and fortunately she seemed not to have listened.

Instead, Pansy was focused more on the three boys now approaching the two of you, “Girls, aren’t you stunning this evening,” Theo lingered with his eyes on your neckline, earning a slap on the back of his neck, “What?” he asked the platinum-haired boy on his left.

“She has a boyfriend, who is a Slytherin. Calm down,” Malfoy scolded him with a harsh tone, while he kept shaking the drink within the glass between his hands. He raised his gaze from the light brown liquid and fixed his eyes on Pansy’s dress.

“There you are!” a voice which came from behind you surprised both you and your brown-haired friend on your left, “They are about to name the Queen and the Kind,” Daphne informed all of you. She was followed by her younger sister, Astoria, who kept revolving around your group since the beginning of the year.

You couldn’t say you were bothered by her presence, especially since she would sometimes turn to you when she needed any kind of advice. But you often found yourself observe the way she approached the older boys, mainly Draco. Astoria used to touch his arm whenever he was talking to her, or her fastidious laugh which was always too exaggerated.

Even though you had never talked about it with Pansy, you had the impression she had the same thoughts as you about the younger Greengrass and her pretty explicative manners with boys.

You moved along with your group as they came closer to the little stage, set up for the occasion, and stopped right underneath it. One of the boys from the same year as yours -so, from the seventh year- climbed up the stage and took the microphone between his hands.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the annual Slytherin Ball,” the crowd started cheering and considered the amount of alcohol which had been already consumed, the excitement was brimming, “We will start right away with the name of the Slytherin King,” he pointed at a crown laid on the top of a wooden-made stool, “Let’s be clear, who competed never had a chance against the one and only Slytherin Prince. Ladies, you voted your King to be…” the suspense which followed was senseless, because everyone in the room had understood who was about to be called. And, in fact, the crowd exploded shouting when Draco was invited to collect from the stage the crown now belonging to him. “Malfoy, do you want to reveal your Queen’s name?”

The platinum-haired boy took the envelope from the boy’s hands and unwrapped it. He read the name written on it and let out a soft chuckle, “Give me the crown,” after a moment he was getting off the platform with a feminine version of his crown, studded with hundreds of little silver-coloured glitters, in his hands. He came to a stop only once he was in front of your group.

Next to you, Pansy got excited, but you kept it together since you knew you weren’t the only one among you girls competing that night. Astoria Greengrass had signed up only one day before the beginning of the poll and she had quite an amount of ‘friends’ who certainly gave her their votes.

Draco switched his eyes between you and the younger girl. To you, it seemed like you could normally breath no longer; the only thing you attempt doing was holding your friend’s hand and, in that moment, you figured that maybe you actually cared about the damn crown. You looked into Draco’s eyes as they laid on you and you saw his lips slightly curling up.

What came next, your brain couldn’t process it. All of a sudden everybody’s eyes were on you and they watched as Draco carefully placed the crown onto your head, eventually locking a rebellious lock of your hair behind your ear. He looked at you as your cheeks flushed under his touch and, liking how your body reacted to his, he grabbed your hand with his while the other one was gently placed on your waist, “Would you like to dance, Queen?”

Saliva was no longer being produced inside your mouth, so what you did was simply nodding, trying not to lose your respectability by drooling over him.

The crowd made some space for you in the middle of the common room as Draco dragged you away from your friends. Once you were one in front of the other, he pulled you closer and you had to place both your arms over his shoulders -no that the position upset you. You started dancing really slowly; it was like you were studying each other, unsure of what you were doing was okay with the other.

Draco wasn’t the kind of boy who liked to ask, he would rather take what he believed being his by right. That was what he did with you on September of the same year; he didn’t care about your ‘boyfriend’ outside the school, what he really mattered to him was that you were his. And you were glad you could count on him.

What brought you to him was entirely different from what brought you and Graham together. You and Draco actually shared the same interests and there wasn’t a single moment since you knew each other that he made you feel inferior to him.

That was why when, in the general confusion, he asked you to follow him, you did it without even questioning him where to. He interlaced your fingers together and dragged you through the crowd and across the room; in less than a couple of minutes you were walking down the aisle of the boys’ dorm.

Draco had a room only for him; he said to you it was because he was a prefect, but deep down you knew he got it because of his father. And each time you tried to tease him about it, he would rapidly change the topic of the conversation. You had been more than one time inside of his room, and no one of your friends knew it.

Once you made it to his room, he closed the door behind your back and pushed you against it, “So, my Queen, how to you want to celebrate?” he whispered in a seductive tone next to your ear, “I have a couple of suggestions to make,” he kissed your lobe over and over again, leaving a trail of wetness behind, “Want to hear them?”

You nodded frantically, “T-tell me,” your hands were soon wrapped around the back of his neck and your lips found his in a matter of seconds, “What were you thinking, Draco?” you knew how much he liked his name being whispered by you, and since he had firstly told you that, you kept doing it -but only when there was only the two of you.

He put some distance between the two of you while he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, “You are astonishing with this crown on,” he drew with his fingers the outline of it and then laid his eyes again on your figure, “Do never take it off tonight, sweetheart.”

You shivered as his fingers lifted the straps of your dress, “Is the door locked?” you looked around yourself and then stopped your gaze on his features, enlightened by the weak light inside the room. You didn’t have to ask; Draco brought a hand behind you and when you heard the key being turned in the keyhole, you were sure no one would have busted into the room that night.

Your hands, which were still hanging behind his neck, went stroking the tiny, soft hair on it, while his were now placed on your waist.

“Don’t waste our time then,” Draco dragged you forward, again and again, until your butt hit his desk, “I had in mind something different for today,” as he pulled down the strips of your dress, and let it fall on the ground, he was pleasantly surprised by what were you wearing under it.

A constant thought lingering in your mind all day made you wear a lingerie under the silk dress; it was basic, yet the sexiest Draco had ever seen on a woman.

He took his time observing you, imprinting in his mind the forest green strapless bra and slip on you, “I cannot say how much I love this colour on you,” his fingers went playing behind your back, with the hook of it, while his eyes paid attention a little lower from there, “No, I will show you how much I love this colour on you.”

You felt his hands leaving your body and felt cold and alone when he turned his back at you completely. You watched him tearing down a drape from the wall, unveiling a full-length mirror, “One quick question,” your curious self was coming out, “Is that always been there?” you didn’t address to him directly, instead you preferred looking at him through the glass, “And why I didn’t know about it?” you suddenly felt two large hands regaining their place on your hips.

“I don’t like the idea of seeing myself as I wake up.”

You looked up and chuckled at his words; it was such a Draco Malfoy’s typical expression to use, “Are we going to spend the entire night commending your mirror?” you turned around and placed your hands around the back of his neck, again, “Or are we up to something else?”

“You can bet that pretty ass of yours we are,” he roughly flipped you, now your back was pressed against his chest and your ass was grinding against his hard erection, “Nice dress, by the way,” his fingers traced the line of your shoulders and then went down, up to the very end of your back, “Maybe tomorrow morning you can make a catwalk just for me.”

“It depends,” you answered vaguely, and you lips curled up in a lazy smile as you enjoyed his touch burning your skin.

“On what? If I may ask.”

“On how good you fuck me tonight,” you looked like the typical innocent, good girl to everyone -even to Graham-, but there was one only person in the entire world who had the pleasure to meet the real you.

“Are you challenging me, Miss Y/L/N?” Draco pulled you further against him and his arms wrapped around your hips, “You know I never refuse a challenge, especially if I know I will win,” having said that, there was no more time for words. He pushed you down and within seconds you were on your knees, looking at him through the full-length mirror in front of you.

You kept silent, watching Draco pushing down his black jacket, which was soon followed by his black shirt; his fingers found the buckle the belt he was wearing and undid it -quite masterfully, according to you. His trousers were thrown onto the bed; he stood there, behind you, in his underwear which did left nothing to your imagination.

You licked your upper lip and smirked, staring directly into his eyes, “Are we going to take it slow all night?”

“Face down. Ass up,” Draco commanded you and chuckled as you eagerly accomplished his orders. His eyes followed the narrow line of the thong you were wearing. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it -he wanted that catwalk the morning after more than anything. Draco’s fingers trailed down the fabric until they rushed against your core, “Already so wet for me?”

“Only for you, Draco,” you knew how much he like it when you said it to him, and so you fitted that sentence every time you could.

“What do you want?” he kneeled behind you, eyes fixed on yours through the mirror, “You ask, and I will accomplish, my Queen.”

“Then,” you turned your head around to look him straight in the face, “I want to be fucked so hard that I won’t remember even my name tomorrow morning,” you noticed the lust sparkling in his eyes.

Draco’s hand laid down on your head and pointed it towards the mirror, he pushed until your cheek touched the soft carpet, “Spread your legs,” he supported the movement you made with your legs, “Good girl,” your underwear was moved to the side and the boy’s cold fingers were met with the heat of your wet pussy. Draco pushed his index inside you, twisted it and pulled it out. He repeated the action a couple of times before thrusting his middle and annular inside, too. He intensified his pace and was about to brought you your first orgasm of the night, except that he removed his fingers before the wave could hit you, “Pathetic.”

“W-why?” you asked breathless.

Since the first time you had sex with Draco, you understood it was nothing like the boys you had been before -nor Graham. Draco had always cared about you and your body, and out your pleasure before his own. Though he didn’t seem an altruistic person, within the walls of the bedroom, Draco came in second place. But he was an arrogant asshole even when you were throbbing for him.

“You should know by now that you are only allowed to come on my cock,” he kept his back straight while he brushed the tip of his hard member against the labia of your pussy, “I haven’t heard you beg yet.”

You let out a deep breath and steadied yourself o your elbows, reaching an even wide opening with your legs, “Please, my King, let me come on your cock. Please, fuck me ‘till my mind blo-“ you gasped when you felt him going deep inside you. You thought that he knew what he was asking for when he told you to put yourself in that position: you could literally feel him hitting all your soft spots and his tip was less than an inch away from your cervix.

He was big and thick; again, nothing you had experienced before.

“Move.”

You brought forward your hips and pushed them back, enough for his balls to hit your clit; you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, pleased with the sensation. You repeated you action once more, this time you were staring at his face, twisted in a satisfied expression. You heard him babbling senseless words and that gave you the strength to do it again. After that, you didn’t push yourself away, instead you kept your position and held his cock deep buried inside you.

“Already tired?” Draco went down on your ass at first gently, then he slapped it quite hard. He didn’t go back, but he gave you a thrust and you couldn’t help but lower your head. His fingers grabbed a few hairs of yours and pulled it up again, “I said: eyes on me. If not, you will be punished,” then he whispered next to you ears, “I really don’t want to show every Slytherin how accommodating you can be.”

Draco pulled himself back and then, in one quick motion, he thrusted back into you. He steadied himself to a fast pace, which had you moaning so loud that he congratulated himself for casting a silencing charm over the room moments before. He grabbed your crown, which had fallen from your head, and put it back on it, keeping it in place with another charm, “Look at yourself, the Slytherin Queen being destroyed by the only man who will ever see you like this,” he felt your walls tightening around him and his cock growing harder inside you, “You desperate slut.”

When you noticed his hand running between your legs, and your core, you shivered and then, all of a sudden, he pinched your clit, and you didn’t hold it back anymore; you screamed while the orgasm washed you over and over again.

When you raised your head to meet Draco’s grey eyes, he was already looking at you with a smile plastered over his face. It wasn’t his usual smirk, neither was he making of somebody, Draco Malfoy had on the soft smile he had only shown to you. The only girl he had ever cared about.

“I’ll give you that catwalk tomorrow morning,” you said in no more than a whisper, but you were sure he had listened to you because he giggled and placed a warm kiss on your back, along the line of your backbone, “Can we cuddle before round two?”

Draco broke into laughs, “Are you up for round two?” meanwhile he carefully made you stand up and took you to the bed. As usual he tucked you under the sheets and then jumped on the mattress, reaching his spot behind you.

“I’m always up for round two with you.”

Tag List

@iam-fucking-batgirl