#ginny.

[forgaeven1]

❛ ron and harry apparently won't return to school, ❜ they've gone off now, going to catch more death eaters as aurors. though it's ridiculous, is what it is. noble, of course. but still. shouldn't they at least return to hogwarts? finish it off properly?

❛ will you not, as well ? ❜

@mugglebrn / short starter call ♡

[beauty-funny-trippy]

[toorumlk]

the weasleys, circa 1995

[fadageladinha]

where: fogueira sentence: “You’re cold. Come here.” by @princesaginny

O acampamento provavelmente foi a festa que mais apertou o coração de Periwinkle foi quando viu a festa do acampamento, pois era algo que ela nunca pode fazer. Periwinkle por ser uma fada de gelo não poderia ficar em lugares onde não se há frio, por mais que ela e Tinkerbell conseguissem se curar, ainda era perigoso demais. Era a razão pelo qual era grata pela magia de Merlin estar funcionando, pois poderia pelo menos algumas vezes experimentar aquela sensação de estar com seus amigos ao redor de uma fogueira, mas ainda assim ela estava receosa em ir perto da fogueira quando a outra a chamou. "Não sei se posso. E eu meio que sou gelada?" A fada achou engraçado, pois ela era uma fada do gelo, mas nem todos sabiam disso. Já que agora ela não aparentava suas folhas nevadas de vestuario. "Se fadas do gelo se aproximarem de fogo ou calor quebramos nossas asas. Sei que Merlin está usando alguma magia para impedir isso agora, mas...será que consigo chegar perto?"

[ginnymoonbeam]

Instead of apologizing for liking "trashy" media, consider: what is it doing well? If you like it, if it's making you feel pleasure and interest, then it must be succeeding at something. Is it shaping a set of emotional beats that you find satisfying to watch play out? Did it craft a character you find really compelling? Is something in the styling and aesthetics speaking to you? Did it unexpectedly resonate with a mood or experience you needed to see reflected right then?

However shallow or flawed a piece of media is, if you like it, it's because of something it did well - at least well enough to affect you, on the day that you encountered it.

There are a lot of good reasons to acknowledge this. One is about gratitude and manners: someone worked hard on that thing, and if they provided something that gave you happiness and pleasure, it's nice to honor that. Another is about breaking down the insidious habit of sorting everything into simple good/bad boxes. A piece of media, like a person, can do a lot of things wrong and a lot of things right, and the things on one side do not magically erase the other.

But the most important reason, I believe, is to get in the habit of celebrating what brings you pleasure and happiness. All your life there have been and there will be people telling you that you find joy in the wrong things, that if a particular thing makes you feel good it shows that there's something wrong with you. I reject that utterly. If a particular thing makes you feel good then there's something right, about you and about that thing. I'm not saying that pleasure is the only important thing or that every pleasure should be indulged indiscriminately. All I'm saying is that pleasure is in and of itself a good thing, and deserves notice.

[brancasyard]

No one wants Luffy 😭😭

No wonder he’s terrified of being alone

[poseidons-getting-milk]

Half-Blood Prince is like:

Hermione: I wish Ron liked me back

Ron: I wish Hermione liked me back

Lavender: I wish Ron liked me back

Ginny: I wish Harry liked me back

Dean: I wish Ginny liked me back

Seamus: I wish dean liked me back

Harry: I wish Ginny liked me back

Draco: The only way to save myself and my family is to kill Dumbledore which will end the rest of the entire wizarding world, Snape and Harry won’t get off my back, and i have no idea how to fix the magic cabinet but if i fail GrayBack will kill me and my mother

Snape: I wish Lilly liked me back

[ezzakennebba]

“come along, ginny, dear!”

[webbluvrsugar]

teaching Tom Riddle how to love.

cw: fluff with smut

He has you pinned on his bedsheets, you’ve sneaked away to his chambers just to do this, it’s not like you’ve been dating, but you’ve been hanging around — and fucking — each other for a while now, and for Tom, that’s a really big deal.

He’s been fucking you the way he wishes the past times, hard, rough, with your head flush against the pillow, ramming into you without any sorts of feelings, without attaching himself, it’s nice, pleasurable, but he’s been doing it for himself.

He’s inside you already, cock stretching you out as he stays still, his head leans down to meet your neck, breathing your scent before he kisses your jaw, his lips moving to your ear.

“Tell me how you like it.” His voice is low and it grumbles in your ear, when you can’t answer right away, he gives you a slight thrust.

Your hands goes to his on your hips, slightly pushing him back before taking his hands and placing them over your breasts, his breath itches, he slightly massages the flesh, toying with your nipples as he lets you guide him.

“Slowly…” you mutter, he carefully starts moving his hips in a pace he hasn’t used before, it all feels foreign, somehow more intimate but it still gets you to mewl so he doesn’t complain. “Like that.”

Tom nods, he keeps rolling his hips into you, slow and soft so you can feel exactly every way his cock stretches you out, letting out slow whimpers as he does it.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, another soft whisper in your ear as he makes his thrusts a little more sharp, taking your air out of your lungs and forcing a moan out of you.

“Yes, just… hold me close.” You ask, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush to your body, slightly burying your head on your shoulder.

Tom hasn’t felt like this before, like he’s being needed, he also didn’t think that slow, passionate sex would feel so nice when he obviously prefers to do it the hard way.

But you like it.

So he keeps doing it the way you asked him to, leaning into the pleasure your cunt provides as the time passes, and when you’re done and both lazy and mushy next to each other, your head flush to his chest, he lets himself provide that care to you, hesitantly dragging a hand to your hair and brushing it away to see your face, thumb lightly caressing your exposed cheek.

‘It’s not so unpleasant after all’ he thinks.

[chwlips]

Had a really funny idea and needed to draw it😼

[annanaoana]

Two things you can be sure of is that Ginny's sweater once belonged to Fred (or George, I can't tell them apart) and she stole Charlie's bag. And yes, she has a "Potter' stinks" bottom (she tells everyone she has it because it's true lol, and it always makes Harry blush and she can burst out laughing). Luna made Ginny's necklace. Oh, and the person who took this picture was Harry.

[forgaeven1]

❛ you might've had others fooled, ❜ she's got a wand on his neck, from behind — a cowardly pose, one would dare even comment — but had they been genuinely face-to-face, ginny isn't sure the extent of harm she could've unloaded. or worse, the extent of grief that would've overflowed right through her at the sight of his young, unblemished face. the very same face she had caught a glimpse on years ago before unconsciousness overtook her and she had realised then, with a terrifying thought, that she will soon die because of this boy. she will die, because he had deemed her easy to.

❛ not me, ❜ ginny's voice resounds, a strong thing - though in truth, she could see the tips of her wand shaking under the grasp of her own trembling hand. what a pathetic sight. even after years, he still had this much hold of her. and she- she understands it, alright. she gets that harry and dumbledore and quite literally everyone else outside of ron is tryin' to tell her that this isn't quite the same tom riddle, but how could they truly know ? how could they be so sure ? on her worser days, she still dreams of him. not quite like harry does, of course, but he is still there. he still haunts.

and he always will — that is his curse. the mark he leaves.

❛ tell me. ❜ her wand presses harder against his nape and ginny pretends she hasn't done so out of fear. that this is only courage. that this is only necessary. ❛ why'd you go to meet him ? ❜

@dragonthroned — starter call :)

[toorumlk]

silver and gold!

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!” he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

“And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ‘a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

[maki-nsi]

man what the hell 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️