#Plimpy

[amazingdrk]

Looking at this guy, I think I completely understand what he’s about

every single fossil was once a living thing that lived its own life. isnt that fucking insane. you'll never comprehend what it was like to be a cotylorhynchus in the marshes of early permian texas

[mlattegirl]

Headcannon that Barty found out Pandora was dead from Luna at Hogwarts.

When you think about it, there’s no way Barty Crouch Sr. would’ve kept Barty apprised of current events. Barty also wouldn’t have asked about her for fear of drawing attention to Dora. After all, he, Evan and Reg worked so hard to get her out and protect her.

I imagine the conversation went like this:

“A Guide to Nargles, Wrackspurts, and Gulping Plimpies? A great book, Ms. Lovegood, very informative.” He said with uncharacteristic fondness.

“It’s quite fascinating really, Professor Moody. My mother always used to hunt nargles. She used to say you needed to be able to stop infestations before the had a chance to root.”

Used to

USED TO

U

S

E

D

T

O

Used to

“Used to, Ms. Lovegood?” He croaks, “Your mother not searching for mythical creatures in her old age?” He hopes, beyond hope, he hopes, she can’t be gone Dora can’t be -

“My mother’s dead, Professor. She died…”

The rest is drowned out by the static in Barty’s mind.

No. No. NO. Pandora can’t be gone. Not Evan’s sister. Not their Dora. They worked so hard to get her out. He failed her. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t protect any of them. Reg, Cas, Ev, Dora. They all died. And he was here. He failed them.

[wonderlandwalker]

Gentoo Penguins | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: At the anniversary of a bad memory of yours, James can't quite figure out yet why you're avoiding him. But he doesn't give up easily.

Content Warnings/Tags: Angsty with a fluff ending (like everything I write), reader is Sirius' sister but it's not very obvious, crying, mentions of nudity, stubborn James, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This one I had been working on for the past few days but finally found the right mindset to finish it! Send me a request if you think of something I can write <3

It was Friday, and you hadn’t seen each other the whole week. This was caused by him having classes all week at the other side of the castle, and you just starting a new course because of which you barely had any free time.

He waited outside the classroom for your class to end. When you finally stepped out, he wouldn’t have recognized you if it wasn’t for the fact that he had your face memorized to the smallest detail by now. You looked like you had barely slept the entire week. You also looked like she had been dragged through the gardens in the courtyard.

“What the bloody hell happened to you, eh?” He asked you, and you turned your head after hearing his voice.

“Nice to see you too.” You sarcastically muttered back to him.

“Alright, I’m sorry okay? How’s your week been?” He sais, while catching up with you walking down the corridor.

“Been better, what are you doing here James?” You asked, still not looking at him.

This caught him off guard a little, not expecting you to question spending time together.

“Catching up with you, love, thought we could go do something together” He said back, while shrugging his shoulders a little. Maybe you really weren’t in the mood to spend time with him, or anyone for that matter. You turned your head towards him, and he could almost see the tension dripping from your face, your muscles strained but your eyes weak.

“I’m sorry James, but I’m really not in the mood for anything” You told him, your voice sounding choked up.

“Well, then let’s just do nothing?” He suggested. You clearly didn’t wanna argue, and instead continued walking towards your dorm, so he followed you.

You reached your dorm and walked inside, leaving the door open for him to follow after, at least that was a good sign, he thought. Lily was there too, along with Marlene. 

“I’m gonna take a shower” you muttered, walking into the bathroom.

Once you were inside, he walked over to Lily, thinking she might know what was going on.

“What’s up with her?” he asked.

She looked at him like he was growing a second head and simply called him an idiot, not telling him anything else before walking out of the room, probably on her way to the library. He looked over at Marlene, and she just rolled her eyes at him shortly, before going back to the book she was reading. So he decided to take a seat on your bed until you came back.

Not long after, you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around your body and drying your hair with another one. You walked over to your wardrobe and picked something to wear. He was still watching you when you dropped the towel to get dressed. At the sudden reveal of your figure, James quickly realized he should look away, so he looked over to Marlene, who looked amused at the blush that was crawling up him. You finished getting dressed and walked over to the door, walking out while calling after yourself:

“Are you coming or not?”

Your change in demeanor startled him a little, but he quickly followed you.

“I thought we could go feed the plimpys by the lake.” He suggested once he caught up, but you didn’t seem appealed by the answer.

“I know, let’s go to the astronomy tower, it will be good, come on.” He said, tugging you forward a little.

You reached the top and settled down next to him, your knees pulled up to your chest, arms hugging your legs and your head resting on his shoulder.

He had always loved it when you played and fooled around, but he loved these moments most of all. When it was just the two of you, and you seemed so in your element when you leaned against him. The smell of your citrus shampoo lingering in the air.

You were staring at the sky and he swore, he could have looked at you forever if you let him. But after a while, he looked up to the sky with you, and let his own head lean on top of yours.

He remembered all the other times you had come up here. It was usually at the end of each year, the both of you relaxing at the thought of a warm summer to come. Sometimes you would come up here when one of you was stressing out too much, and the other lugged them along. You would be up here for hours, it usually already being deep in the night when you went back down. When he was stressed out, and you dragged him up here, he would get lost in your eyes, the way the moonlight reflected in them, it always calmed him down, and he would always be so grateful.

It wasn't until he heard you sniffle softly, your body starting to shake lightly, that he tore himself from his thought. He looked over at you, and you had closed your eyes. He tilted your chin up towards him and you opened your eyes, still avoiding his gaze. Your eyes looked glossy and dull, and it bothered him that he didn't know the reason you were crying, that he didn't know how to help. 

“Hey, darling, look at me. Please.”

You finally looked at him but it broke his heart a little. Both rage and calmness came over him at the same time. He wanted to punch whatever had caused her this sadness, but he also wanted to comfort you, make you feel better and make you forget the reason you were even sad to begin with. 

You parted your lips to start talking, but nothing came out. Wanting to give you the time you needed, he gently let your head fall back on his shoulder and took your hand in his, placing soft kisses against it in an attempt to calm you down.

After a few minutes, you started talking.

“It’s been exactly a year now.” was all you said, before closing your eyes again. And when he thought back, he started to remember the moment you were talking about. Last April, you had made plans one weekend to go to Hogsmeade, and when he went to pick you up from your dorm, he had already heard the cries before the door was even open. He knocked on it and heard Marlene telling him to go away, I knocked again and told her it was me, hoping she’d let me in so I could see what was wrong. Marlene probably knew it was a hopeless cause to get him to leave, so she told him to come in.

You were lying with your head on Marlene’s lap, crying your eyes out while she was stroking your hair. He had no idea what to do, he had never seen you this upset before. He tried to comfort you, but you didn't react to him. After a little bickering, Marlene convinced him to go away, that she could handle it, and that you didn't want to talk to anyone anyway.

After that night you had avoided him for almost a month, and when he finally managed to see you again, it seemed like part of you was still broken. He tried to ask her a few times what was wrong, but each time he did your eyes teared up and you simply told him you didn't want to talk about it. he tried asking Marlene too, but she kept telling him you would tell him when you were ready. He stopped asking after a while, not liking the way your usual smile broke down when he brought it up. 

“It was right in the middle of the great hall, everyone was looking at me. I thought they would at least have had the grace to send me a normal letter, not a howler.” You started to choke up as you were talking, and it took all of his willpower to let you continue, having the urge to pull you into him and console you. But he let you continue. 

“They disowned me right in front of the whole school, everyone heard it happen, it was so horrible.” You told me while you started to cry, clinging to him more and more. “It’s not like I was ever close to them, but it still hurt.”

He remembers when you told him childhood stories from your time in the Black household. It left you with trauma, but it was still family. You would recollect the small victories and tell him about them each time. And each time he would cheer for you, be happy for you, even though he was dying to make you see you deserved so much more. 

“Sirius was still there of course, but I couldn't talk to Regulus anymore, he avoided me for so long. I think he was just scared as well, but it still hurt.” It was quiet for a while, but he could feel that you weren't done talking, so he waited for you to continue. 

“The last time I had talked to him we got into an argument. He was upset that I was spending so much time with Sirius and with you guys, he said it would only lead to trouble. I guess he was right.”

“Hey, look at me, yeah?” James couldn't take it anymore.

“Do you remember when my mum got a bad case of dragon pox? I didn't want to talk to anyone, I shut everyone out, but you helped me through it.” He can see your eyes again through all the tears, and it prompts him to continue. “You brought me slushies in the middle of the night when I refused to leave the dorm, Merlin only knows where you even got them. You made me laugh when your tongue turned blue, it had been the first time I laughed all week.” You’re smiling now as well, and he swears his grin is gonna make his cheeks hurt. 

“You were there for me, even when I told you I wanted to be alone, you saw right through me. And I will be there for you, I will always be here for you, whenever or wherever you need me.” Your tears have stopped now and there is a sense of bliss that covers you. So James continues

“Do you remember, a couple of years ago, you got this obsession with penguins? You told me all about them. You told me about when they were first discovered, and the scientists named them ‘strange geese’. You told me a group of penguins is called a raft. You told me this one extinct species would grow up to 1,5 meters tall, now that one I didn't believe at first. But the one I remember most is the Gentoo penguin. You told me about how they are one of the few penguin species that mate for life, even when they lose each other for a while, they always find their way back in the moments that matter.” 

He tilted your chin up to meet his gaze while he spoke. “Be my Gentoo penguin.”

[animasola86]

2: A Special Guest

This is a rather unusual story about a girl (reader) who comes across a special little friend that she likes very, very much. But does she love it more than she loves her boyfriend (Sebastian)?

Notes: This time, Sebastian goes skinny dipping with his girlfriend, but the Black Lake doesn't seem to be the best place to do so. Not that they care. Not yet...

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Smut // Words: 2.9k // [READ ON AO3]

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Underwater sex! Fingering! (Additional tags on AO3!) Read at your own risk!

← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →

2

One month ago

“Sebastian! Come on!” you call to him as you wade through the knee-deep water of the lake, a cool breeze causing goosebumps to ripple over your bare skin.

You can hear his heavy footsteps and the splashing of water behind you, and as you turn around to him with a laugh, you see him begrudgingly following you, the muscles in his body tense, but that's not your focus point as you watch him joining you in the rather cold water.

A smirk breaks from your lips as you meet his hated gaze, though that's everything that's warm about him as it seems. He catches up with you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his waist and pull his chest against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours. “Don't say a word,” he hisses, and you chuckle deeply before you press your lips to his.

“Don't worry,” you whisper against his mouth, winking at him as one of your hands moves between your bodies and gently closes around his not-at-all-cold-resistent cock. He groans quietly at your warm touch. “I know a magic trick that can make it bigger...”

He rolls his eyes and gives you an exasperated sigh before he grins at you. “Why are we here anyway?” he whispers. “When we could cuddle on the couch in the Undercroft and do other things?”

“Because you promised to take me skinny dipping!” you reply and plant a series of light kisses on his cheek and down his jaw as you keep pumping your hand around him.

His breath hitches. “I never did such a thing!” he protests, faking indignation. “Seriously though, you know I hate the lake.”

You look up at him with a soft smile. “I know, love, because you fell in in your first year,” you coo, almost mockingly. “That's so long ago, though. You have to face your fear eventually.”

“Do you know what lives in this lake?” he goes on, his hands resting on your waist as he squeezes it lightly.

“A lot of magical creatures?” you reply with a soft chuckle. “Are you afraid of mermaids?”

“Have you seen mermaids? Those things are terrifying!” he retorts, shivering visibly.

“You've seen a mermaid before?” you ask with your eyebrows rising.

“Well, not a live one, but those statues in the Slytherin common room have given me nightmares since the day I first saw them.”

You laugh, but he shakes his head.

“Honestly, it's not even the Merpeople I'm wary about. There are Grindylows and Plimpies and Kelpies and oh, the Giant Squid! And probably bigger and also much smaller things I can't even name off the top of my head. The lake is full of life, and we certainly shouldn't be here to disturb it!”

Patting his back with a deep sigh, you tilt your head. “It's just a little bath, we don't have to dive down to the bottom, you know?”

He exhales loudly and stares at you, but then steps back and grabs your wrist, prying your hand away from his cock before he pulls you along as he starts to wade deeper into the water. “Let's stay near the cliffs, we should be safe there,” he says, and you follow him with a short giggle as you look up at the castle looming above you on its rock formation.

Once the ground suddenly drops, you find yourself floating on the surface, kicking your legs and moving your arms before you take long strokes through the water, inhaling deeply, holding your breath, feeling the cold of the air and the lake seeping into your limbs.

It feels amazing after having to sit in classrooms and the library for hours on end, forcing more and more information into your already overwhelmed head. Exams are no fun, so you've decided to ask your boyfriend of two years to join you for a quick and refreshing dip, and even though he has been apprehensive from the beginning, the prospect of being naked with you seemed to have convinced him in the end.

You turn onto your back and float on the surface, your chest poking through the water, your breasts spilling over your chest. You see him watching you as he swims closer until he mirrors your pose, his hand outstretched to touch yours as you both drift on the gentle current, staring up at the blue sky above. Slipping your fingers between his, you inhale deeply and close your eyes.

“This is nice,” you breathe out as he squeezes your hand softly and hums in response. You kick your legs lazily, feeling the water splash around your limbs, pooling on your stomach, caressing you with gentle waves.

You're completely relaxed, listening to the birds singing in the nearby trees, the seagulls screaming overhead, the gentle sway of the water as it hits the shore and retreats again, the hypnotising murmur of the lake below you.

And suddenly you hear Sebastian yelping in surprise. As you open your eyes lazily, you see him splashing about hectically, hitting at the water as if he is fighting an invisible enemy.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a grin, not leaving your position, only turning your head.

“Something brushed against my leg,” he says frantically, his brown eyes wide. You laugh loudly, and he stares at you darkly. With a sigh, you slip from your floating position and slowly swim towards him until your hands find his shoulders.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “I should be more supportive, hm?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your lips lingering on his wet skin, tasting the tang of the lake and the salt of his sweat. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press yourself against him while he struggles to remain afloat. His hands find your waist while your legs keep touching as you both tread water.

“Let's get out of here,” he says softly, almost pleadingly, but there is a heat burning in his dark eyes. You bite your lip and nod before you look around and gently push him towards a rock jutting out of the water. The shore is too far away and frankly, you don't like engaging in any sort of physical activity on the sand anyway as it gets everywhere.

So you opt to push him against the rock, the ground still too deep for you to reach but he manages to stand on it, even if his shoulders barely break the surface as he does. He grabs your waist and spins you around until your back is pressed against the stone, then he wraps your legs around his hips and holds you upright with his hands firmly planted on your bum.

Your fingers dig into his hair as you lean closer, eager to claim his mouth for a searing kiss that he meets with the same passion that burns through your own core. Your heart accelerates, your breath quickens, the cold air teases your warm skin in a way that makes you shiver deeply. Your lips close around his, your tongue eagerly pushing into his mouth to be met by his own before they engage in a wild dance.

You feel dizzy and light-headed, completely forgetting where you are if not for the gentle waves splashing against your entangled bodies. One of his hands moves around your bum cheek, teasing at your folds, and you gasp softly into his mouth when he slips a finger into your entrance, teasingly poking, then adds another, more teasingly spreading them inside you. You are focused on the kiss that's messy and hungry and so distracting you don't notice something (that's not Sebastian) brushing against your skin.

He keeps fingering you, changing the position of his hand to be able to press his thumb against your clit while he pushes three digits into your depths, widening your tight entrance for what's to come. You can feel his erection hardening against your stomach, glad the cold water didn't affect it too much after all. A bigger wave splashes against his shoulders, spraying water into your heated face, and you let out a surprised yelp when something colder, like a current, surrounds your body.

Unlike last time, he doesn't seem to mind it as he keeps kissing you, with his tongue invading your mouth as eagerly as his fingers dip into your core. When he retreats his digits eventually, your walls clench around nothing, and it feels as if they're sucking in the water. Your stomach tenses up as he leans away a little, pushing you to the rock with one hand while he grips his cock with the other, and you loosen the grip of your legs around him to scoot back enough for him to be able to enter you.

His eyes are dark as he watches you while he presses his tip firmly against your folds before he slips in with ease, your muscles relaxed from his ministrations and the water surrounding you. A deep moan escapes you as you lace your fingers around his neck, moving your hips slowly with him to help him in driving his length as deeply into you as possible. Once he's sheathed all the way inside you, a shiver runs through your body as his tip prods against your cervix, seemingly tickling your deepest spot, almost pinching it.

His hands return to grab your bum cheeks as he leans in to claim your mouth for a heated kiss, and you return it with fervour, deepening it with your tongue eagerly pressing against his. During your kiss, he starts moving his hips, retreating slowly before plunging back in with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth. His fingers dig into your soft flesh, guiding your body towards him as he pushes upwards, hips slamming together underwater, causing waves to ripple around you, water splashing against your bodies and the rock with every rapid snap of his pelvis.

You groan and moan together, unable to leave the other's lips as he picks up his pace slightly, your walls clenching around him, sucking him in only to ache whenever he pulls back. His thrusts are deep and deliberate, slowed by the density of the water, yet every stab feels as if he's trying to split you in two. You arch your head back, finally breaking the kiss as your mouth falls open to let a series of drawn-out whimpers tumble from your swollen lips.

The coil in your gut tightens as he keeps plunging deep and pulling out almost all the way before repeating it over and over again, slow and deliberate, forceful and with a strength that makes your thighs twitch, the repetitive motion causing your walls to burn despite the water lubricating them.

Your head starts spinning as your muscles starts contracting, tightening around his hard member, and once he notices the strain on your body, he moves faster, pistoning in and out, pushing your back against the rock with every motion, not caring about scraping your skin, though neither do you, as his quicker pace drives you towards heights you haven't expected to reach this fast.

You moan louder, quicker, your heart hammering inside your chest as your fingers dig into his wet locks, your body tensing up under his relentless assault. Each stroke sends shivers down your spine, each deep plunge is like a small lightning bolt crashing through your nerves, each thrust makes stars dance behind the eyelids of your tightly squeezed shut eyes.

Your whimpers are as erratic as your breaths, met by his deep grunts and strained groans as he holds his fast and steady rhythm until he can feel your walls clamping down on him hard, yet he keeps going, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you start to convulse against him.

The coil inside your stomach tightens, tightens more, and then, it explodes with a force that makes you cry out loudly, your voice carried away by the soft breeze, as your orgasm crashes through you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced. Lights flash in front of your eyes, your limbs twitch uncontrollably, the movements of your body no longer in your power as you cling to Sebastian as if your life depended on it, as if you would be dragged away into the current if you wouldn't sink your nails into his shoulders.

Your orgasmic contractions make him stutter, his hands desperately gripping your bum cheeks as he presses you against the rock, trying to hold on as his own orgasm hits him with almost the same force. He groans loudly into your ear, his warm mouth pressed to your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into your skin as you feel his cock twitching inside you after he finally stills his rapid pace, buried deep within your tight spasming walls as he paints your insides with his thick seed.

You moan under the combination of sensations, your arms wrapped around his neck, your legs holding him like a vice as you keep him sheathed within you, your hearts beating frantically against each other. The shudders subside slowly, though occasionally you feel something like a pinch inside you, causing you to shiver all over again. You imagine it's his cock twitching, leaking the last drops of cum into you, as his body relaxes against yours.

Eventually you regain your composure as your limbs react to your commands again, and you loosen the tight grip of your legs around him, allowing him to lean back and slip out of your warmth. Your walls clench around his seed trying to seep out and the water trying to seep in, the mixture of warm and cold essences causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin. He releases your bum, and you're sure you'll have his hand imprints burned into your skin as a long reminder of your passionate experience.

You let your legs slip away from him, sinking deeper until your toes touch the ground beneath you, your chin tilted up as the water splashes against your face. You relax your sore muscles in the cold water while you look up at him. He smiles at you as he grabs your face gently, keeping you afloat and standing while simultaneously holding you still so he can claim your trembling lips for a sweet, slow kiss that takes your breath away all the same. Your hands grip his waist as you pull him against you, your bodies smacking together under the surface once more.

“I guess I can add one thing to the list of why the Black Lake isn't so bad after all,” he whispers hoarsely as he breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

You laugh softly, submerging your mouth to ease the burning of your swollen lips before you lean back up to kiss him again, water splashing around you as you throw yourself against him. He grabs one of your legs and hooks it around his hip as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold current brushing against your heated centre again, a welcome refreshment after the exhausting rubbing and clenching, and you could swear you could still feel his cock twitching inside you even though it brushes against your stomach now, spent and relaxed.

You don't pay it any mind as you kiss him hungrily, rubbing your pelvis into his almost needily. He groans into your mouth, looking at you out of hooded eyes, before he complies and brings his hand back to your folds, gently caressing them before dipping his fingers back into your warmth. As he curls them inside you, you gasp against his lips, your eyes flying open as a deep shudder jolts through your body. As expertly as he usually fingers you, always finding the right spot to stimulate, you feel as if there's something else pressing against your walls, adding to the sensation.

Your breath quickens, and you can barely think about it as you come around his fingers once more, completely overwhelmed by the sudden orgasm piercing through your nerves. Tumbling against his chest, you hold onto him breathlessly, too light-headed to wonder about anything at this point. Your muscles contract, and he keeps stroking your insides with his fingertips, what he usually does to ease you down from your high, but this time it feels as if he's only pushing you further, up and up, the gentle touch too much to handle as you keep whimpering helplessly under the constant strain to your muscles.

It's when you feel both of his hands on your cheeks that your eyes fly open in slight shock, because the teasing continues inside your walls as if his fingers were still in your warmth. Your eyes wander over his freckled face, and for a moment you want to share your concern, but then you just press your lips together and smile bravely, silently enjoying the echoes of his touch – or at least you think, and hope, that's what it is.

He kisses you softly. “Are you okay?” he whispers as your body is still tense and shaking in his hold.

You nod, unable to trust your voice so you keep quiet as the sensations within your core continue to pulse through you. Luckily you're still submerged in the water, so the twitching of your limbs isn't as noticeable. He watches you closely out of dark eyes before he scoops you up into his arms and starts carrying you through the deep water towards the shore. You wrap one arm around his neck and lean against him, your other hand on your stomach. A sudden shiver makes you gasp, and even more so when you feel something pushing against your palm – from inside your body.

← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →

Notes: Body horror incoming? Maybe! Stay tuned! And thank you for reading!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

[ghaniblue]

100 words for @drarrymicrofic prompt maypole. Inspired by a regional German tradition of placing a birch tree in front of the house of your beloved.

There was a tree in Harry's sitting room. The smooth stem reaching up, up and up where his ceiling should be. Multicoloured crêpe paper ribbons fluttered around the crown in a non-existent breeze. A big red heart was stuck to it with his name.

There was a cough. "Potter, if you're done gaping like a beached Plimpy, I believe we have case notes to go over."

Harry blinked, his brain trying to adjust to the situation. Draco sat on Harry's sofa, pointedly shuffling papers. His ears were very red.

Behind Draco, Kreacher shuffled out of the room, trailing ribbons.

[honeydukesheroine]

Go With Grace 🌧️

For @corneliaavenue-ao3 and @severalsunlitdaylights!

Folklore: my tears ricochet

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace, Because when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

Deathly Hallows angst with a sunny Half Blood Prince ending:

She knew he’d waited there for her, a safe enough distance away that he wouldn’t be discovered.  Ginny marched past him, each footfall an act of violence, heading straight into the dark chasm of Hogwarts’ halls. Warmth from the sinking sun had long since been extinguished, it deserting her too.  “You’ve got to stop challenging them like that,” Neville said for the fiftieth time. The ache lingered longer each time, bone deep, like being outside in a freezing rain. He thought she was being intransigent. Difficult for no reason. Reckless.  “And what? Roll over like a Plimpy and take it?” She tried to outpace him, but he caught up with her easily. “There’s a time and place, Ginny,” he said, sounding weary, yet desperate. “And getting tortured for mocking Alecto’s grammatical errors is not one of them.” “She wrote ‘Muggles cause displeases incurable by magic,’ Neville, disPLEASES… it was what she wrote just as much as the meaning behind it.”  “Still.” They’d reached the Fat Lady’s corridor. She stopped and faced him to say quietly, “It’s what he would do. It’s what he did. Against Umbridge.” “That was different.” “How?” She demanded in a whisper. For she was tired too. Tired of being contested. Of compromising under their fool’s tyranny.  It was after curfew. If they were caught in the halls, the Carrows would gladly inflict another punishment, yet Neville’s sympathetic expression hit just as hard. — Ginny threw her bag on the grass, and collapsed to the ground beside it. “Maybe I shouldn’t have hexed her, she’s just going to go squealing to McGonagall.”  “Bright side, if you get detention, maybe you can do it with me,” Harry said, casting an Imperturbable Charm around their cluster of trees before spreading out beside her.  “I doubt Snape will leave us alone that long.”  Harry laughed. He tilted his head back, looking flushed, and loosened his tie. Even after these last few weeks, his smiles lingered longer than before, like his face was building muscle memory.  She crawled over her bag and laid on her side too, facing him.  As with many other “firsts” in their relationship, she studied him - his eyes, his hands, his lips - for reassurance. And her first retaliatory hex seemed as important a milestone as any. He pushed her hair back, fingers combing through, until he was cradling her head in his hand.  And for the first time since lunch, she kissed him. Hooking her heel behind his knee, she pressed closer to him, basking in the comfort of him pressing back. “You’re tough…” he said against her lips a few minutes later, still smiling. “And brave… I like that about you.”

Usually she didn’t put much stock in words, but these ones she would hold close.

[lsdoiphin]

Artfight part 3

Thyme for @ravenbirde

Talon for @featheredbeardog (guest starring Kaitos)

Colin for @plimpi

Disturbia for @sillyroundkatie

[flowerphoenix]

An art fight revenge for last year for an unnamed dragon owned by @plimpi

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Chapter Update - Into The Hinnyverse

A collection of Hinny-centric drabbles, microfics and one-shots written for the Ginny Lovers Discord server 5-Year Ginnversary Bingo game.

Chapter 5 - When In Doubt

She likes him, and she's pretty sure that he likes her. So what's the problem, exactly? Ginny wishes she knew.

Rating - T, for smidge of bad language. 5 points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley!

Read on AO3 from the beginning or continue below the cut for the latest chapter (975 words)

Ginny Weasley was a girl on a mission. Just after breakfast, she seized her chance. Her target was alone, but leaving the Great Hall at a fairly purposeful pace, so Ginny had to scurry to catch up. Her Chaser’s instincts helped her to time her approach so that she slipped alongside just as they passed the entrance to the girl’s bathroom in the hallway leading to Gryffindor Tower. Then, it was a simple matter to slip her arm through that of her prey, and bundle her inside.

“Hey!” protested Hermione. “What did you do that for?”

“I need to talk to you,” hissed Ginny, as she checked all of the cubicles were unoccupied.

“Well, you could have just asked!” huffed Hermione. “There’s no need to resort to kidnapping, you know!”

“Sorry,” Ginny told her, with absolutely no trace of apology in her voice. “It’s just it’s actually really hard to get you on your own, you know.”

Hermione folded her arms. “I don’t see why that means you couldn’t ask.”

“Because you’re always with Ron, now he’s not with Lavender anymore. And…” Ginny looked down at the floor. “And Harry.”

“Ah,” Hermione nodded, sagely, leaning back against the ornate ceramic sinks. “Do I take it that it’s Harry that’s the problem?”

Ginny gave a snort of humourless laughter. “When is it ever not Harry that’s the problem. But yes, you take it correctly.”

Hermione’s brows pinched in concern. “Has something happened?”

“No.” Ginny pressed her lips together in annoyance. “Which is my point precisely. I don’t get it, Hermione! I did everything you said! Got on with my life, focused on me, relaxed around him, saw other people, didn’t pin any hopes on him…”

“Well, I didn’t exactly….” interjected Hermione

“...and I would swear it worked!” continued Ginny, completely ignoring her. “I’ve been catching him staring at me since Christmas! The number of bludger hits he takes at Quidditch practice because he’s looking at me rather than paying attention is frankly embarrassing. Other people have started to notice. Ron has started to notice, for fuck’s sake! And that’s not all! He’s started finding excuses to touch me - like, one day last week, he picked some fluff off my jumper, then at dinner he sat next to me and I swear his hand kept brushing mine under the table! He laughs at my jokes, even when they’re not funny. And yesterday, I told him he had nice fingers, and he blushed, Hermione! He honestly, properly, blushed.”

“You… told him he has nice fingers?” asked Hermione, weakly.

Ginny looked a little bit embarrassed. “Okay, yes, perhaps I was being a bit obvious, but there was some context, honestly. It was after Quidditch, and I said it was probably why he’d made so many good catches. But you’re missing the point here! Tell me I’m wrong, Hermione? I’m not, am I? I’m not reading too much into this?”

Hermione smiled, the sort of broad, satisfied smile of someone who is really enjoying being right. “You’re not wrong, Ginny. I’ve noticed it too, he’s definitely interested. Let’s face it, Harry really isn’t subtle about his feelings, is he? But I’m confused about why that isn’t a good thing?”

“Oh, it’s a good thing! It’s definitely a good thing,” Ginny sighed, dramatically. “What I don’t understand, and I’m hoping you can enlighten me, is why he hasn’t done anything about it? I split up with Dean weeks ago! I have dangled opportunities to get me alone in front of him like a snail on a plimpy line, but he seems determined not to bite. If he’s as keen as we both think he is, I just don’t get what’s stopping him. I’m single, he’s single…” Ginny paused, as a horrible thought occurred to her. “Oh Merlin, he is single isn’t he? He hasn’t started seeing someone else?”

“No, Ginny - he hasn’t,” confirmed Hermione. “Frankly, with Quidditch, trailing after Malfoy and mooning over you, I can’t think where he would find the time.”

“Gah! He is so frustrating! Why is he wasting time mooning over me when he could be… well, you know. Doing other things with me.”

Hermione smirked. “I know.”

“I just… I don’t know what else to do.” Ginny’s shoulders dropped at the thought. “Short of hurling myself at him in the common room.”

“Oh Merlin, don’t do that!” giggled Hermione. “I have a much better idea.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “And that would be?”

“Well, it’s like I always say,” Hermione told her. “When in doubt, go to the library.”

Ginny shook her head. “Honestly, Hermione - I’m pretty sure I won’t find the answer in a book. Not unless Madam Pince has added ‘How to Seduce the Clueless Wizard of Your Dreams’ to the catalogue.”

Hermione laughed. “No, that isn’t what I meant. I think you were on to something earlier. You need to get him on his own, as much and as often as you can. He’ll crack eventually. And I happen to know that he’s spending this morning in the library attempting to finish the Herbology essay he was meant to have done two weeks ago.” 

Ginny immediately spotted the potential flaw in this plan. “On his own? Won’t Ron be there? I can’t imagine he’s got his essay finished if Harry hasn’t.”

“Nope. You’re completely correct about the status of Ron’s Herbology essay, but Ron has prefect duty this morning. With me.” Hermione checked her watch. “And I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Ginny “Go, go!” Then she caught her friend up in an enthusiastic hug. “And thank you! I guess I ought to be going too.”

“Yes,” agreed Hermione. “You should. Have fun in the library!”

Ginny shot her friend a wide grin. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose!”

[locatislunaticolupin]

Day Nine: Candy

Written for day nine of @remadoramicrofics. 831 words. Also available on Ao3.

Teddy loves weekends because Dora’s home all day and they can do anything they want. Remus and Dora know this, so Remus will make sure there’s tea ready for her when Teddy, who tries being patient but is still a tiny child, inevitably wakes her up. In a show of maternal love, Dora matches Teddy’s energy even before getting out of bed. She swings him around, wastes no time scarfing down her tea and toast so they can go to the village or the pond or the neighbor’s house with the newborn calf.

Sometimes they will all go together, and Remus and Dora will swing Teddy between them, or Teddy will point at every plant or animal in the way so that his parents will either tell him its name or make it up. Other times, most times, only Dora and Teddy will go, because they know he loves his family, but they also know he loves it even more when he gets to spend time alone with his mama.

"He gets his da every other day of the week, Dora," Remus tells her once or twice. "Go have fun".

On weekends, Teddy gets Dora. They get to race each other on the dirt road, feet stomping on the ground, sun biting at their skin, screaming and scaring off hares and starlings and chaffinches (but only after Remus gets to kiss and hug and fuss over Teddy as if he’s leaving for Hogwarts instead of a trip to the village, or the pond, the neighbors’, always back in time for tea).

Every time, Dora cheats, sprinting down the path before Teddy’s even out of his da’s arms. She never lets Teddy win their races, even after all the teasing she’s been subject to, and Teddy loves it. He never laughs or screams louder than when he beats her, because he knows it’s real. Sometimes he’s quicker, or smarter, or sneaky enough to use the dogs when he sees them sliding under the wiring. He runs straight towards them, encourages them to run with them or after them, to bark and play and get between Dora’s feet. You cheater!, she yells, laughing, and Teddy runs even faster. Every time, with no fail, they reach the village sweaty, dusty, and covered in dog hair and grass stains. They’re gasping and panting and Dora tries catching him, but Teddy knows to aim for the edges.

Teddy shows Dora all his favorite places, like the bakery where the old lady sneaks candy to children or the creek where I did too see a Plimpy! Ask da!, and he looks so proud when people in the village give them odd looks. He knows it’s because they’re weird and loud (after all, they have bright pink hair and mismatched clothes, and they laugh until they run out of air, and they speak so loudly his da says he can hear them from the back garden when they go back home), and he loves it. He introduces Dora to everyone as “my mama, the detective”, as if they haven’t known her for years now, as if he’s daring anyone to say anything, just so he can say that she’s the coolest.

(The village is very lovely, but it’s also very strange about Teddy’s da picking him up from school or about Teddy’s mama being a detective, but Teddy learned quickly, so quickly you could be forgiven for thinking he was never ashamed, to be proud of being different, of being odd. And anyway, he much prefers for people to look at his hair and his mom than for people to approach him and tell him, very solemnly, “You take care of your dad, now, alright?”, as if his da could die that easy, could go that easy, because these people know nothing. Da carries Teddy on his shoulders and cleans him up when he makes a mess and can even make their big golden dog Tammuz take a bath, despite Tammuz being bigger than Teddy and fighting him much more about it, no matter what his da says).

Dora loves the weekends as much as he does, he knows. Her smile takes up her entire face, and she’s loud, and she forgets herself (and sometimes she buys candy just for the two of them, because da would eat it all, she laughs with a wink and a secret). They don’t get this during the week (she’s tired, and Teddy asks for Monky Loco instead of races, and he learns fast that tired means blood, and be careful, Teddy Bear means I’m hiding bandages from you, because I don’t want you to worry), and that’s part of his family being weird, he knows, so he doesn’t mind. He can be quiet and he can spend a sunny day inside, cuddled up to his mama, just as much as he can fall in rotten water while exploring and befriend Grindylows, even if he’s not allowed to keep them at home.

[mxlfoydraco]

For you ask game ✨: all for Draco!! 1, 4, 8, 9, 10, 33, 37 and 44

1. Canon I outright reject

That he married a woman. Yeah right lmao.

4. Favorite line

‘… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick –’
‘You have told me this at least a dozen times already,’ <3

8. Unpopular opinion about them

Draco wasn’t forced into being a death eater, he did want to become one. It was his parents who didn’t want him to.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Robe scene robe scene robe scene. He’s already such a snotty little peacock completely unaware of how tactless he is I adore him.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

Ooh, listen I love how symbolic the white birb scene is in the HBP movie. The manor scene though…. Fiendfyre…. Sectumsempra… I’m fueled and fed….

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

Scorpius. Draco will cry when he cries, when he laughs, because he’s cute, because he said papa, because fell asleep sitting up, because he’s just… existing? Just there?

37. What they really think about themselves

He’s the perfect narcissist. He’s simultaneously the best and the worst, but he’s also the best at being the worst.

44. Their happiest memory

It’s probably a really unassuming day. It’s a sunny sunday, he wakes up wrapped around Harry. They laze around in bed until afternoon, having soft slow sex. Then have a jam filled brunch. Draco does his crosswords while Harry fusses with his plants, he calls out to Harry when he gets stuck and plays with his ring as they go back and forth trying to guess the answer. They have nowhere to go and nothing to do. For a second he stops and thinks, this is my life. This is our life. He smiles and puts in the word Gulping Plimpies bc he wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for Harry’s hangouts w Luna.

Random Character Asks

[jadedandconfusedao3]

The Portrait That Was Not

Luna had always been able to see things that other people could not. Even as a small child, she had been able to see magical creatures like nargles, wrackspurts and gulping plimpies that nobody else believed existed. She could see the winds change before it happened and feel the oncoming storm when it was just the slightest difference in pressure.

It didn’t surprise her that no one else perceived the incandescent glow that she saw around each individual person. The colours changed with their moods and grew brighter or softer with their vitality. It wasn’t always clear why.

She only realised the glow was a reflection of the person underneath when she saw its light fade from her mother. The aura paled as she struggled to breathe. When she took that last gulping and struggling gasp, the light went out, never to be seen again.

But there was no reason for the glow to be coming off a painting.

It was leaning up against the sofa in the front room of Grimmauld Place. According to Harry, the inhabitant had steadfastly refused to talk to anyone since it had arrived, choosing instead to look away or sneer. The man in the portrait was pale, almost ethereal. With his face framed by a shock of black curly hair over startlingly grey eyes, Luna found it very difficult to look away.

“Who is he?” Luna asked as Harry came back into the room with a cup of tea and some biscuits.

She had offered to help him go through all the artefacts that had been bequeathed to him after the Aurors had cleared all of Voldemort's secret places of dark magic. This one had been found in the cave. It had taken months, but they’d finally eradicated all the Inferi and disarmed all the enchantments. Now it was no more than a lonely cave assaulted by the waves.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Regulus Black,” Harry replied, a biscuit hanging from his mouth. “It looks like all the pictures I’ve seen of him, and he has Sirius’s nose.”

Luna slowly reached out and ran her fingers down the painted surface. The man in the painting glared at her, his silver eyes boring into her own.

"Harry…”

“Hmm?”

“I think he’s alive.”

Read more on Ao3

[queenofonions]

Love in the Afternoon

Summary: A tender moment between Luna and Ginny.

Ginny fell from the portkey vortex in a dizzied heap. She lay there for several minutes, catching her breath and soaking in the heat from the high afternoon sun. The grass was warm under her hands, leaching away the lingering chill from the sodden quidditch uniform she wore.

The light summer rain they had been practicing in had whipped into a torrential beast that exhausted everyone, but it was only when lightening had obliterated the snitch that the captain finally called it and sent the team home.

Ginny had not even bothered to change before activating her personal portkey. Her wand was strapped to her forearm and she could have easily cast a drying spell over herself, but the relief of being home after such a wretched morning made her limbs and mind pleasantly heavy.

She rested the backs of her hands against her eyes to block the sun. The scent of flowers wafted over her and she took a few moments to breathe it in.

Just a few moments...

...

...

Luna closed the basket on the plimpies she had caught, took up her fishing net and made her way back home, enjoying the feel of the mud by the lake as it squished between her bare toes. She wore a gauzy white summer dress in deference to the heat of the day and left her long blonde hair loose and flowing down her back, her wand tucked behind her ear as usual.

It was a short walk back to the rook-shaped house, where she stowed away her net and set the basket on a picnic table. She summoned a fillet knife from the kitchen and directed it to clean and prepare the plimpies.

As she tucked her wand behind her ear again, she heard the bass-toned gonging of the windchime that announced the activation of a homing portkey.

"Ginny," she breathed, her face beaming, and at once headed down the lane toward the stretch of meadow half a kilometer from the house. Luna easily spotted the small daisies that blanketed the warded area and felt the magic wash over as she passed through, disappearing from view to the outside world.

The sight of Ginny dozing amongst the flowers made Luna's heart clench sweetly in her chest.

She sank down onto the grass next to her and tilted her head quizzically as she looked Ginny over, noticing the state of her uniform and the deep pink of her cheeks and nose.

She dried the uniform with a wave of her wand down the length of Ginny's body, but the redhead did not wake. One kneepad hung loose so she gently unlaced it completely and transfigured it into an extra large beach umbrella to shade them both from the sun.

Luna looked around her and plucked a handful small daisies, placing them one by one in Ginny's hair like a crown. Her fingers stroked through a long lock of red hair and lifted it to brush the silkiness across her own cheek, then her lips. She flicked the end of the lock softly across Ginny's nose and finally Ginny stirred, scrunching her nose and blinking sleepily.

The sight of Luna made Ginny smile and her heart swoop with delight. "Luna, love," she breathed and caught the blonde's hand up to kiss her fingers.

Luna hummed in pleasure and leaned over to press sweet kisses over Ginny's cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips.

Ginny cupped her cheek and pulled her closer, taking the kiss deeper, sipping at her lips and licking into her mouth until Luna was draped over her body and they were both breathing heavily.

Luna pulled back a little and shifted against Ginny with a slight frown. "I'm glad I dried your uniform, but it is quite uncomfortable to lie on."

Ginny freed her wand from its strap and grinned. "I can take care of that." A swish and twirl of the wand removed that obstacle completely.

Luna's eyes danced merrily, "Oh, thank you, that's much better." She stretched her body out over Ginny's again and sighed dreamily as their curves fit snugly against each other. "Mmmm, that's just lovely."

Ginny laughed, wrapped her arms tight around the woman she loved and kissed her again amongst the flowers.

Please Like and Comment on AO3

(pen name Xedra on AO3)

[uefb]

The Business of Worrying (link)

A story about Newt’s first year at Hogwarts, featuring communication, bizarre wizarding expectations of ability, autism, ableism, nonverbal magic, and accessibility. (Also, with a side of 'Hogwarts is a Mess' and 'Complicated Families are Complicated'.) Starts at age 5, and ends at age 12.

SUMMARY: Newt has always had plenty of people worrying about him, so he doesn't bother with it much himself. But that doesn't mean things are always easy; and just because talking doesn't come to him naturally doesn't mean he has nothing to offer, or nothing to say at all. Luckily—sometimes—people manage to recognise that. Over time, though, Newt realises it's more important he simply believe it himself.

Opening Scene:

Newt is five-and-three-quarter years old when his mother takes him to St. Mungo’s for the first time. 

The day before had been a “disaster” and the Underage Magic Officers had very crossly told his parents they needed to “figure something out”. That command had apparently been what sparked his mum to gently wrestle him into his cleanest trousers and the itchy sweater with no holes that morning, before rushing him through their chores, tossing him an apple, and carting him off to London. She’s knelt before him, now, with that smile on her face that makes his heart beat like hippogriff wings on a late summer updraft, and she promises him over and over again that everything will be alright.

“Just try your best to talk so they can help you. Let them inside that brilliant little mind of yours. Think you can do that, cinnamon?”

They meet his aunt-the-mediwitch in the hospital lobby, and then Newt is ushered up behind her to the Children’s Ward, placed in a room with his mother seated behind him and a woman he doesn’t know across the table in front. 

The chair is too big and his legs are too small and he does not want to answer her questions. 

After several long minutes of discomfort, he lets his gaze drift to the wall and he pretends he is somewhere else ( anywhere —the doxy nest in the back garden); and when he starts paying attention again, he is suddenly and viscerally aware that his mother is crying. She’s pulled up her chair to sit directly beside him, and she is leaning slightly forward—toward the healer, who frowns at him—and she is vibrating with the kind of repressed and desperate energy he gets himself when he very much wants to leap for the next branch but knows (with his brother watching, for example) that it would be entirely inappropriate.

“Once a week, I think, Mrs. Scamander, should break him of the quiet.”

Newt blinks, watches the quivering reflection of the charmed lights on the enamel table top, swings a leg in agitation. 

“His father can be like this, though... Isn’t it possible he’ll grow out of it? That’s normal for children, isn’t it? Things like this?”

The healer he doesn’t know is rocking her head back and forth as if considering, and he thinks she looks a bit like a plimpie, bobbing about when stuck in an eddy.

“And your husband, when he was a child…” the healer is kindly saying, in the sort of voice Mother reserves for skittish hippogriffs. “Has your mother-in-law reported this kind of accidental magic? This single-minded mania?”

Newt looks up at his mum and watches her shake her head and bite her lip (No… No, nothing quite the same… ); and there is a part of Newt that wants to crawl into her lap and pet her head the way he does the stray dogs in the village, when they duck away from contact and skitter fast into the shadows. 

But he does not know this place so he does not move.  

They’re talking again, and Newt does not like it here, and he wishes his father were there with his steady voice, and firm grip; the enchanted paper he’d taught Newt to use to communicate when his words are a fog in his mind (but he wasn’t allowed to bring it today because the point was to talk ), but Dad is at work so he’ll see him at home.

“Well, we’ve no way to know about that,” the stranger-healer is saying when he starts paying attention again. “But if something happens again—like yesterday—it would be the Ward’s recommendation to admit Newton for observation.”

His mother is crying particularly hard now — she sounds like she’s choking on something very big and very important, perhaps even her heart, he thinks — and Newt feels that buzzing anxiety just beneath his skin, and he shakes his hands out from his wrists to stop the magic.

No one notices.

“Mrs. Scamander, I’ve sent a note to be placed in his file at the Improper Use of Magic Office, that his parents are reacting appropriately to the Ministry’s concerns.”

His mum pulls a handkerchief embroidered with flowers and griffins from her coat pocket, and she dabs her eyes and is herself again. Newt doesn’t look at the healer, but he watches her press some papers into his mother’s hands, listens as she rattles off the date he is meant to come back.

(Newt distinctly does not want to come back.)

His mother hasn’t carried him in years—not since he got too big to ride pick-a-back as she worked in the barn—but she scoops him up anyway as they leave the office, hefts him onto her hip as she says goodbye to her sister-the-mediwitch at the door to the Children’s Ward, floo’s them to his father’s department at the Ministry so they can all go out for lunch. 

His dad even clocks out early to take him to the menagerie and the bookstore after they eat. 

It is when Newt is on his tiptoes peering inside a terrarium that he suddenly realises his mum has begun to cry again, but this time it seems to be because he won’t stop talking (asking the man behind the counter if he can please see the kneazles! and telling him all about the horklumps he’s been studying in the garden).

It makes no sense, so Newt clings to his father’s hand and pretends it is not happening.

[hesiodsmuse]

itll take alot more than that to convince me! the gulping plimpies have been more restless than usual, indicating that something in this castle has briefly changed :) if you plan on flooding the dungeons again, please put a protection charm on mine and dorcas’ dorm!!!!

three quarters of the marauders spotted, discussing something very intensely.. ought to keep an eye out for any new pranks … @siriusly-s-of-a-b @casuallystargazing @chaserprongsss

(if this prank will scare off all of the pixies in this castle, im cutting sirius’ cig supply!)

[speakbeastypodcast]

This week's Beast Of The Week is the adorable Plimpy!  It lives in deep lakes and might nibble your feet while you swim. 😀