A/N: My favorite Weasley!! Look at him on the picture! he's absolutely adorable!! 10/10 guy! (Yes thats the A/N and yes it's very important)
Is a bit calmer and more attentive than Fred and he’s amazing at figuring out how you feel.
That doesn’t mean he’s shy though. He’ll still very openly flirt with you even in public sometimes.
getting along with Fred is a must. In their case you just can’t have one without the other.
If you give him ideas to a prank he could do, he’d gladly do it and boast about how “my partner is a bloody genius!”
Is actually a surprisingly good cook and will make you anything you ask for.
Randomly grabs you and spins you around sometimes.
If you’re somehow capable of sassing him and Fred out, he’ll just fall even deeper in love with you.
Calls you “Mrs. Weasley” all the time even if you aren’t married yet.
Sneaking around Hogwarts in the middle of the night just to get to the astronomy tower for a date. Speaking of this he also has a lot of small hiding places around the castle where he takes you for some peace and quiet.
Gets SO happy when you say George and Fred instead of Fred and George. He’s used to being “the other twin” so even though its simple he loves it when you mention him first.
It’s nearly impossible to be sad for long periods of time when you’re with him. He will always find a way to cheer you up because seeing you sad is one of the worst things he can think of.
endorphins relieve pain, reduce stress and boost feelings of pleasure and physical well-being. just think of them as your fun friend who's always down for a good time!
An It-Girl doesn’t waste time overthinking, gossiping, or stressing about other people's actions or behaviour. She doesn’t entertain unnecessary thoughts or internal conflicts. An it-girl doesn't dwell on things that drain her. Instead, she detaches, refocuses, and puts all that energy into herself—her growth, her glow, her dream life.
Learning a new language
Crocheting
Reading (books, articles, etc.)
Learning sign language
Practicing Pilates, Yin Yoga, and workout
Writing a novel
Writing comics or short stories
DIY projects (decor, stationery, etc.)
Dancing or learning new choreography
Listening to pep talks and podcasts
Doing facial massages
Weekly exfoliation & masks
Staying hydrated
At-home spa days
Hair care routine
Nail care routine
Skin care routine
Tracking skincare progress
Start a blog and share your journey
Learning digital art and design
Drinking lemon water for skin clarity
Cleaning makeup brushes regularly
Applying SPF daily
Cleansing your skin twice a day
Learning video editing skills
Learning effective communication skills
Painting & sketching
Practicing meditation, mindfulness, and self-awareness
Making your favorite food and experimenting with new recipes
Learning attractive body language and self-presentation
Learning about fashion & finding your style
Diy candles
Planning ahead for studies and personal goals
Planning and preparing for exams in advance
Creating a schedule for consistent progress
Organizing and cleaning your desk
Experimenting with makeup and beauty routines
Learning photography
Exploring new music and creating playlists
Designing and organizing your personal planner
Taking nature walks
Trying out journaling
Making your personal playlist for different moods
Learning about astrology or spirituality
Doing vision board
Exploring aromatherapy and creating a calming space
Practicing gratitude journaling or affirmations
Creating a travel bucket list
Developing a signature fragrance
Growing your own mini garden
Trying out new hairstyles or hair experiments
Staying active with fitness routines
Mastering time management
Learning new skills online
Doing regular digital detoxes
And yet, there are so many more... the list goes on...
Salicylic Acid – Best for oily and acne-prone skin. It penetrates deep into the pores, unclogs blackheads and whiteheads, controls excess oil, and prevents breakouts.
Glycolic Acid – Ideal for normal to oily skin. It exfoliates the top layer, brightens the skin, improves texture, and reduces fine lines and hyperpigmentation.
Lactic Acid – Suitable for dry and sensitive skin. It gently exfoliates while providing hydration, making it great for dullness and rough texture without irritation.
Mandelic Acid – Best for sensitive and acne-prone skin. It helps with uneven skin tone, reduces breakouts, and provides mild exfoliation without irritation.
Azelaic Acid – Works for all skin types, including sensitive skin. It reduces redness, fades hyperpigmentation, treats acne, and calms rosacea.
Kojic Acid – Best for hyperpigmented and sun-damaged skin. It helps lighten dark spots, melasma, and discoloration caused by acne scars or sun exposure.
Tranexamic Acid – Ideal for all skin types struggling with stubborn pigmentation. It effectively reduces melasma, post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation (PIH), and sunspots.
Hyaluronic Acid – Suitable for all skin types, especially dry and dehydrated skin. It deeply hydrates, plumps fine lines, and retains moisture for a youthful look.
Polyglutamic Acid – Great for dry and dehydrated skin. It locks in moisture, provides long-lasting hydration, and enhances the skin’s elasticity.
Ascorbic Acid (Vitamin C) – Best for dull, uneven, and aging skin. It brightens, reduces pigmentation, fights free radicals, and boosts collagen production.
Ferulic Acid – Works for all skin types, particularly those using Vitamin C. It enhances the antioxidant power of Vitamin C and E, preventing premature aging.
Ceramides (Fatty Acids) – Essential for dry and sensitive skin. They repair and strengthen the skin barrier, preventing water loss and irritation.
Linoleic Acid (Omega-6 Fatty Acid) – Ideal for acne-prone and oily skin. It reduces clogged pores, balances oil production, and supports a healthy skin barrier.
Ellagic Acid – Good for sun-damaged and aging skin. It protects against UV damage, brightens skin, and provides antioxidant benefits.
Cinnamic Acid – Suitable for all skin types. It has anti-inflammatory properties and helps protect against environmental damage.
Succinic Acid – Best for oily and acne-prone skin. It controls sebum production, fights acne-causing bacteria, and soothes inflammation.
How to choose the right skincare acid for ur skin type
Oily & Acne-Prone Skin
Salicylic Acid (BHA): Penetrates deep into pores to remove excess oil and prevent breakouts.
Azelaic Acid: Reduces acne, fades dark spots, and calms redness.
Succinic Acid: A gentle anti-inflammatory that helps control breakouts.
Dry & Dehydrated Skin
Lactic Acid (AHA): Exfoliates while hydrating the skin.
Hyaluronic Acid: Retains moisture and plumps the skin.
Mandelic Acid: A mild exfoliant that improves texture without drying.
Combination Skin
Glycolic Acid (AHA): Brightens skin and smooths texture.
Salicylic Acid (BHA) (my bff🦅) : Controls oil production in the T-zone.
Hyaluronic Acid: Hydrates dry areas while balancing oil.
Sensitive Skin
Mandelic Acid: A gentle AHA that exfoliates with minimal irritation.
Azelaic Acid: Soothes inflammation and reduces redness.
PHA (Polyhydroxy Acids): Provides mild exfoliation while boosting hydration.
Hyperpigmentation & Dark Spots
Kojic Acid: Brightens skin and reduces discoloration.
Tranexamic Acid: Fades stubborn dark spots and melasma.
Glycolic Acid (AHA): Speeds up cell turnover for an even skin tone.
Aging & Wrinkles
Glycolic Acid (AHA): Stimulates collagen production and smooths fine lines.
Ferulic Acid: Enhances antioxidant protection and stabilizes vitamin C.
Using skincare acids can transform your skin, but when used incorrectly, they can cause irritation, sensitivity, or even worsen skin concerns. Here are some common mistakes to avoid:
1. Over-Exfoliating
Many people think using glycolic or salicylic acid daily will give them faster results, but excessive exfoliation weakens the skin barrier. This can lead to redness, peeling, breakouts, and sensitivity. (especially for oily skin)
Solution: Use exfoliating acids (AHAs/BHAs) 2-3 times per week and always listen to your skin. If it feels irritated, take a break pleaaase
2. Skipping Sunscreen
Acids like glycolic, lactic, and salicylic acid increase your skin’s sensitivity to the sun. Without SPF, you risk sunburn, premature aging, and even worsening of dark spots.
Solution: Always use a broad-spectrum SPF 30+ sunscreen daily when using serums with those acids.
3. Mixing the Wrong Acids
Not all acids work well together. Using too many active ingredients in one routine can cause irritation.
🔴 Examples of bad combinations:
Vitamin C + AHAs/BHAs → Can cause irritation and weaken Vitamin C’s effectiveness.
Retinol + AHAs/BHAs → Too harsh on the skin, leading to peeling and sensitivity. (by experience 💁🏻♀️)
Niacinamide + Vitamin C (unless properly formulated) → Can cause flushing or reduce effectiveness.
Solution: Use exfoliating acids on alternate days and simplify your routine to avoid irritation.
4. Not Hydrating Properly
Exfoliating acids remove dead skin cells but can also strip away moisture. Without proper hydration, the skin can feel tight, dry, or irritated.
Solution: After using acids, apply thick a moisturizer to maintain balance especially if the acids dry ur skin so fast
George Weasley and he just does not have any concept of personal space (affectionate)
Clingy/Touchstarved!George Weasley HCS!
thank uuuuu for this idea anon, i need to write more for my babyboy george :,((((
Gift giving and physical touch are definitely his main love languages.
Endless amounts of random hugs and kisses.
“What was that for?” You’d ask after he’d give you a peck on the cheek out of nowhere.
“Don’t know. Just wanted to.”
After acing one of your OWLS, he had picked you up and spun you around in circles with him while chanting “Brilliant girl! Brilliant girl!”
Will offer to give you a piggyback anywhere, he just wants you to be close to him.
You’d be sitting on the sofa in the common room, studying/reading/doing whatever, George would be sitting next to you when suddenly he’d shift his body to lay his head on your lap. His legs would be hanging off the armchair of the sofa. He’s done this several times.
Or he’ll put his head on your shoulders, occasionally falling asleep and you’d have to wake him.
”George. George, you’re breathing on my neck.”
Or he’ll have your legs on his lap, his thumb rubbing your ankle.
Constant cuddles in either of your dormitories.
“George, I’ll have to go soon. If I get caught in here we’ll both be in trouble.” You’d tell him.
“Mm, just a few more minutes. My mates won’t care anyways.” He’ll huff, snuggling closer.
“They’ll tease you for it though.”
“They can piss off.”
Only other problem is that boy overheats, he’s like a goddamn human space heater.
You’ll both sneak away into an empty classroom or bathroom in between classes just to smother you in kisses.
You’d unfortunately have to stop him by the time he’d unbutton the first few buttons at the top of your chest, pressing open mouthed kisses to it.
“We’ve haven’t got enough time for this right now, my next class is in less than ten minutes.”
“We’ll have enough time, you know I’m good with my hands.” He smirked and you gawked at his suggestive comment.
“George!” You softly pushed him away as you fixed your top and looked away to hide your flushed smile.”
It was promising, but you couldn’t afford being late to Snape's class again. You’d press a chaste kiss to his cheek and said you’d could continue with this later.
Always has a hand on you anywhere.
His arm is always around your shoulders, hooked around your waist. His hand is always laying on your thigh or holding your hand.
You’d sneak off somewhere under the stands around the Quidditch pitch, just to give him what you both called his goodluck kiss before he went on field for a match.
When his hair was long, he’d let you mess with it as much as you wanted to. Running your fingers through it, braiding it, anything. He just wanted your hands on him.
You’d be standing around anywhere and he’d pop up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin either on your shoulder or the top of your head.
Lovessssss head scratches
In summary, he’s down with anything that’ll keep you next to him.
summary: at the start of her fourth year, Y/N Greengrass has a vision of an event yet to come.
warning: No Y/N, Seer!reader, Hufflepuff!reader, talks of minor character death, best friends to lovers, Kira messes with HP canon
wordcount: 3.2K (kid you not this is one word from being 3.3k)
author's notes: Sooo the story was originally an OC story, but people don't really like those, so I alter it to be x reader. Anyways, this is my first story ever, so I hope everyone likes it.
masterlist.
next.
The Greengrass family has been a respected family among the Wizarding community. They are part of the sacred 28, which are wizarding families that were true pure-blood or families that had no known muggle or muggle-born ancestry. Naturally, every family has at least a couple of skeletons in their closets.
August 6th, 1993
It was dark and chilly. You were standing in a rundown home, the Shrieking Shack possibly, muffled voices could be heard up the stairs. “NO! I trusted you!” a voice yelled. It was familiar, you knew that voice. The scene changed, you were outside now, right outside the Whomping Willow. The tree was notorious for not being a people person. Behind you stood the trio with Professor Snape and in front of you, a werewolf. It had its arm raised, claws glistening in the moon light. It slashed down at you.
You jolt up in bed with a gasp. There was a sharp pain coming from the left side of your face, right over your eye. Quickly, you went over to your vanity and looked in the mirror. Nothing, there was nothing there, it was just a phantom pain. Not the first time it happened and it probably won’t be the last.
These visions didn’t start until you began Hogwarts. Your first one foreseeing a hex gone wrong on the Hogwarts Express. It was how you met the Weasley twins. It was them who tried to hex their older brother Percy, but being only second years, they got the spell wrong. It backfires causing them to blast right into you.
They came at random, whether in your sleep or simply by touching something or someone. Your mother was the same you learned. As a way to help, Dumbledore had Professor Trelaweny give you private lessons.
A knock on your bedroom door, pulled you out of thought. Your cousin, Astoria called out your name. “You were supposed to be downstairs five minutes ago, gran is going to be mad.” she said. Astoria continues to knock and call your name.
“Alright, Story, I heard you the first time.” you called back, turning towards the door.
“If you’re not down there in three minutes-”
“Yeah yeah don’t get your knickers in a twist.” You hear her walk down the hallway. Turning back to the mirror, you look at yourself. Shoved into the corner of the mirror was a Daily Prophet page that George had sent you. It was of him and his family in Egypt. Mr. Weasley had won a contest and used the money to take him and his family to visit the oldest Weasley boy, Bill. Letting out a breath, you get up and start freshening up for breakfast.
Downstairs, most of your family awaits at the table. You walk around the table to your grandfather, who was reading the Daily Prophet. “Morning, grandfather.” you kissed his cheek before walking back around to sit in your spot at the table.
“Oh morning, dear.” Archille greeted you as your grandmother, Amelia, came into the dining room.
“Oh good, you’re up on time.” she said to you as she sat down at the head of the table. You and Astoira shared a look. “Archille, can you put that blasted thing down. I don’t want to see that rubbish.”
Archille put down the copy of the Daily Prophet and began to eat. “Where’s daddy?” Astoria asked.
“There’s a problem at the Ministry; your father had to go in early.” Amelia said. Your uncle Apollo worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
“When isn’t there a problem at the Ministry?” you mumbled. Ameila glared at you. If stares could kill, you would’ve been dead years ago.
“Does the problem have anything to do with this Sirius Black person?” your cousin, Daphne inquired. You looked up from your plate.
“Whose Sirius Black?” Astoria asked.
Archille looked at his wife. “Um…he’s no one that you should concern yourself with, girls.” he said.
“Well he’s obviously someone important and dangerous if there’s a whole search warrant on him.” you pointed out.
“Yes, I mean how does one even escape Akazaban? It’s in the middle of the sea.” added Daphne.
“Girls!” Amelia said, sternly. Looks were thrown around the table, no one spoke. Amelia then let out a sigh. “Sirius Black is a murder. He’s the reason why Di-” she catches herself, “he's the reason why our dark lord is dead.”
“But I thought-” you started, but she cutted you off.
“Enough, I don’t want another word about this. Eat your breakfast, all of you.”
You could tell when your gran wasn’t telling you something, but you also knew better than to push.
August 27th, 1993
The vision from a couple of weeks ago still plagues your mind. You try to make sense of it. The voice in the Shrieking Shack belongs to none other than Hermione, you were sure of it. You’ve heard her yell at Harry and Ron enough times to know, but why would any of you be there? Who did Hermione trust? You wanted answers, but Professor Trelaweny taught you to never seek out answers. Instead let them come to you.
Walking downstairs, your cousins are already at the table. As you sat down, you noticed that your grandfather was missing. He was one to never miss a family meal.
“Morning.” Apollo said as he came into the dining room.
“Window.” was all you said back to him.
Apollo looked confused, “Window?” Just then light tapping could be heard at the window. Apollo opens it and Atlas, the family owl, flies in and lands on top of your grandfather’s chair. “How did you…”
You gave your uncle a smirk as Daphne reached for the owl. “Are those our letters?!” Astoria jumped up from her seat excitedly. Daphne takes the mail from Atlas and hands you your letter. The owl chirps and flies onto the table and starts picking at the bowl of nuts.
Your grandmother walks in and seats herself at her usual spot. “Somebody get that bloody bird off the table. You all know better.” she scolds.
“Sorry gran.” Daphne says. She then picks Atlas up and takes him to his pen. You read over your supply list for the year.
“Well, I see all your letters arrive. We can take a trip to Diagon Alley today.” Ameila said.
Curious, you took a glance at Daphne’s classes for the year. “Arithmancy? Are you mad?” You took her letter out of her hand.
“Hey!” Daphne tried snatching it back, but you blocked her by turning your body away.
“Girls do not start.” Amelia warned. The both of you completely ignored her.
“And Ancient Runes?” You laughed as you read over her supply list. Daphne said your name.
“Give it back, I'm serious.”
“Oh you’re Sirius? Well I’ll just have to inform the Ministry. Did you hear that Uncle?”
Your uncle was not amused. He said your name with tiredness, “Give Daphne her letter back.” Your smile faded as you turned back around. Daphne snatched her letter out of your hand. Astoria was laughing, but she quickly stopped when your gran threw a look.
After breakfast, your uncle leaves for the Ministry and you go to find your grandfather. You finally find him in the back gardens near the oak tree. “I’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes.”
Archille’s turn around at the sound of your voice, “Well your intuition must be failing if it took you twenty minutes.” You smiled a knowing smile and sat next to him. You saw that he was tending to his Nifflers.
“We got our letters this morning. Astoria is excited to start her first year.” You said to him.
“Ah yes and I heard that you started some commotion with Daphne.”
“I was only teasing her.”
Archille laughed, “you’re just like your mother in so many ways.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Your mother always loved these little creatures.” he stated, “In fact, I think they were the only creatures she liked. Claimed it was because they were as mischief as her. Your gran nearly lost her head when she ‘accidentally’ let one loose in the manor.” The image of your gran chasing a Niffler around the manor flowed through your head making you laugh a bit. “It’s hard knowing that Black is out there.
“What do you mean?” You asked. Archille sighed.
“Black is responsible for not only the death of his friends and those twelve muggles, but also for your mother’s…I’m sorry for never telling you anything. Don’t tell your gran I’ve said anything.”
You were only two when your mother died. You never knew how, just that she was gone. Never knew anything about your father either. Every time you asked, you were always brushed off or the subject would get changed.
At Diagon Alley, Astoria jumps excitedly as she has never been before. Your gran looks at you and Daphne, "Here, you girls go get what you need.” She hands you both a few Galleons, “I’ll be in Madam Malkin’s with Astoria and– Astoria, dear please stay by me. I trust that you two will behave yourselves.” That last part was mostly directed towards you. You watch as she leaves with Astoria. Soon after, Daphne had found Pansy Parkinson, a girl in her year, and made off with her.
You made your way to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, where you found who you were expecting right outside.
“Hello Harry, knew you would be here.” you said to the boy. The green-eyed boy looked up and smiled instantly when he saw that it was you. He said your name as he went to hug you. “So tell me what you’ve done this time?”
“What makes you think that I’ve done something?” He asked.
“Because when haven’t you done something?” You stated.
“I…I may have accidentally inflated my aunt.” Harry mumbled out, but you still heard him as though he said it normally.
“How ever did you manage to do that?” you laughed out.
“She was talking bad about my parents and I just couldn’t listen to it anymore, but it’s weird, when I got here the Minister was waiting for me. Like he knew or something.” he said.
“Well you don’t have the best track record, Harry.”
“When I left though and waited…I saw something or at least I think I saw something.” Harry told you, “It was a dog, a big black dog.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, “A dog?”
“Yes and I’ve been here for weeks and I feel like I’m being watched.”
You put the back of your hand on his forehead.
“What are you-” he smacked your hand away.
“Congraulations Harry, I think you’ve finally gone mad.”
Harry accompanies you while you shop for your schoolbooks. Then you escort him back to his room after you finish. “And you have everything you need, correct?” you asked him.
“For the third time. Yes.” He was annoyed on the outside, but secretly he loved when you pestered him.
“And you’re going to be alright until the Wealsey’s come back in a few days, yes? Because if you really think someone is watching you-”
“I’ll be fine. If anything happens before then, I’ll send Hedwig.” he assured.
“Alright, alright I’ll leave you alone.” You kissed his cheek as a goodbye then met back up with your family in front of Gringotts.
September 1st, 1993
When you awoke this morning, you didn’t expect to go into fight or flight mode. A hooded figure hovered above you. You let out a scream and it was only when you woke up for real that you knew it was a dream. Breathing in and out heavily, you felt nothing but coldness and dread. As you gather your thoughts, a knock comes upon your door, it was your uncle. He voices out your name with concern.
“You alright. I heard screaming.” he said from behind the door.
“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” you said back.
“Okay, well remember the train leaves exactly at eleven.” Apollo walks away and you shake off the feeling of dread as you go to get ready.
When the Greengrass’ arrive at King's Cross Station, Astoria was talking a mile a minute about how she couldn’t wait to be sorted into Slytherin like her sister and cousin. You and Daphne shared a look that went unnoticed by everyone.
As you said your goodbyes, you spotted the small group of redheads out of the corner of your eye. You turned to find George already looking at you. The smile that came to your face couldn't be contained. Your gran said your name pulling your attention back. She had that slight look of disagreement on her face.
You hopped onto the Hogwarts Express quickly, ready to finally be free of your gran rules. Daphne took Astoria with her and at some point, before arriving at Hogwarts, you’ll have to remember to explain the situation and lie you have found yourself in for the past three years now. You were a Hufflepuff, the only one in a long line of Slytherins. You were scared of what would happen if your gran found out, so you lied and said you were sorted into Slytherin. Daphne threaten to tell, but you somehow manage to persuade her into not too.
That was a problem for later though, right now, you just wanted your best friends, and you found them along with Lee Jordan. George got to you first, practically jumping out of the seat when he saw you at the compartment door.
“Hi, Georgie.” You beamed as he hugged him. He quickly returned the hug, savoring the short moment with you. George took your bag and placed it above the seats as you went and greeted Fred and Lee. “So boys, how was Egypt? I’m surprised neither of you look as red as your hair.”
“Oh har har. Can’t say that I didn’t miss your bad jokes.” Fred said.
“And I can’t say that I didn’t miss your face.” You quipped.
The twins told you all about their trips. How they tried to push Percy into a tomb, but got scolded by their mother. How Ginny wasn’t allowed to go in the pyramids because she was too young. Lee also told you all about his summer.
“Well, I’m glad you boys had fun.” you told them
“So…” Fred said your nickname, “what about you, any new vision?” Your smile fades from your face. “I’m taking that as a yes. Come on, you know you can tell us anything.” You look at Fred and Lee across from you before turning your attention to George beside you. You sighed as you got up and closed the compartment door. You tell them about the Shrieking Shack and the werewolf. Skipping over what happened this morning.
“Why would a werewolf be anywhere on school grounds? Isn’t there like protecting charms or something?” asked Lee.
“I don’t know, but I’m positive the voice that I heard in the Shack was Hermione’s.” You stated.
“But why would Hermione be in the Shrieking Shack of all places?” George questioned.
“I have no idea what kind of trouble those three are going to get into this year, but I just have this sense that it all has to do with-” You paused what you were saying when the train suddenly came to a screeching halt.
“We can’t be at Hogwarts already.” Lee stated. The lights on the train started to flicker out. You felt George grab ahold of your hand and you squeezed it as comfort. Fred popped his head out of the compartment. Two figures came up to him, it was Ginny and Neville. Fred pulled them inside and started comforting his sister. It made you think of Astoria, hoping she was somewhere Daphne.
Lee was looking out the window. “Do you think it’s Black?” The compartment got cold, so cold that the window and water on the little tray table started to freeze up.
“How could it possibly be Sirius Black?” Fred asked. There was something in the back of your mind telling you to find Harry. So, you got up to move, but George, who still was holding your hand, tugged you lightly.
“Where are you going?” George stood up with you.
“Just a hunch.” you simply said, walking out of the compartment with George in tow. You found the trio towards the end of the car, with them sat a person soundly asleep. You were surprised that they still even were. “Harry?! Are you all okay?”
Their compartment started to frost up when a hooded figure, the same hooded figure from your vision this morning, stood at the compartment door. The same feeling, cold and dread, filled the compartment as the figure slid the door open. Hermione and Ron moved towards the window as much as they could. Hermione’s new cat started to hiss at it and Ron’s rat squeaked in fear.
You stumble back as you feel yourself go a little dizzy. Luckily, George was there, putting his on your upper arms and his chest to your back to keep you from falling. A voice a little to the left of you could be heard casting a spell. The whole compartment lit up and then the figure was driven away. Harry fainted and the person who casted the spell stepped forward, out of the compartment to make sure the hooded figure was truly gone.
“Harry.” Hermione knelt in front of Harry’s fainted form, shaking him a bit to try and get him to come too.
“Are you alright?” You heard George ask you. You squeeze your eyes as the last of the dizziness fades away.
“Yeah…yeah, I’m alright.” you assured him.
“What the bloody hell just happened?” Ron asked.
“Is everyone alright?” the mysterious man stepped back into the compartment. He looked down at Harry and Hermione. “Don’t worry, he’ll come too in a moment.” He looked around to check if everyone else was okay. The man’s facial features softened upon looking at you. Something that you caught. Though looking at him, there was something oddly familiar.
Harry started to come too. You move to sit beside him as Hermione slowly helps him sit up. George went to the other side of Harry and sat down. Hermione was kneeling down at his feet looking Harry over. The shaggy brown-haired man sat across from Harry and pulled out some chocolate from his sweater pocket. “Here, eat this, it'll help. It’s alright, it’s chocolate.”
Harry took it and looked towards the door in confusion. “What-what was that thing?”
“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban. It’s gone now. It was searching the train for Sirius Black. Now seeing as you are alright, I’m going to have a little word with the driver.” The man said then walked out of the compartment. Hermione moved to take his spot.
Harry bit into the chocolate, “What happened to me?”
“Well, the two of you short of went rigid,” Ron gestured to both you and Harry, “I thought maybe you were having a fit or something.”
Harry looked at you, “You…passed out too?”
“No…I just got sort of dizzy for a bit. It seems you got the worst of it, Haz.” You said as you moved your hand to his arm to comfort him.
“I felt all kinds of weird. Like I would never be cheerful again.” Ron added.
Harry frowned, “But someone was screaming…a woman.” Everyone in the compartment gave a confused look.
“No one was screaming, Harry.” Hermione assured him. You threw a worried glance towards George. It was going to be another interesting year.
⟢ pairing. george weasley x fem!gryffindor reader ⟢ summary. you unfortunately got paired up with george, the school’s most annoying person for potions class. ⟢ grumpy x sunshine. reader (sort of) despises george. reader being in denial. you fell first, you fell harder. ⟢ wc. 3,2k ⟢ masterlist!
“alright everyone, i want all of you to make any potion i’ve taught you this year so far. now, this is worth 20% of your grade, so i expect the best. and lastly, they will be done with pairs.” professor slughorn announced as he clasped his hands together. quiet murmurs could be heard, some students already had a partner in mind, others glanced around awkwardly, while some are even scared they might not have a partner.
you, however, are one of those people who already had a partner in mind. turning to hermione, you mouthed: “wanna be together?” she grinned and nodded happily, giving you a thumbs-up. but just as you turned your head around, your heart immediately dropped.
“boo!”
you yelped in surprise before quickly frowning once you saw who it was. “george! that’s not funny, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snapped, brows knitting in rage. and instead of apologizing, he laughed. of course he did. he couldn’t help it, he just loved seeing your face flushed with anger. “got ya good, didn’t i?” your jaw clenched as you smacked his forearm as he tried his best to dodge your attacks—while still grinning like an idiot.
though, professor slughorn didn’t even give you the chance to throw another attack at george, because apparently, he wasn’t done talking. “ah, don’t get too excited now! i will be choosing your partner.” professor slughorn added, causing everyone to groan, while some celebrated quietly. you, too, groaned with the others. “right then! let me see..”
professor slughorn then scanned the classroom carefully, slightly squinting from time to time. everyone held their breaths. “ah, yes—yes.. hermione granger you shall be paired up with dean thomas.” hermione nodded, for all she could think of was how grateful she was not to be paired up with a fellow slytherin as they had potions class with slytherin.
“pansy parkinson will be with.. let’s see here—ah, yes, lavender brown, that is!” and the list went on, and on.. ‘til it was down to the four of you: you, seamus, ron, and lastly, george. with each passing moment, your heart pounded loudly in your chest nervously. you prayed silently professor slughorn would pick ron as your partner. you suppose seamus would be fine, too. as long as it’s anyone but george.
“ah, george! you’d make an absolute pair for y/n!” and in that moment, you could feel your stomach drop. you grimaced as you sighed in defeat, already sensing his presence magically appear beside you. “uh-uh, don’t get any closer now.” you turned to your left, pressing your index finger on his shoulder to stop him from leaning in on you any further. “delighted to see me, i can tell.” he said with a smug smirk plastered across his stupid face.
you rolled your eyes as you ignored him, averting your attention to professor slughorn who was currently explaining about the rules and precautions. george, however, didn’t stop there. he continued and continued to pester you—a light tap on your quill, humming a ridiculous tune, whistling quietly.. you name it. and it made you lose your patience with each passing second.
“will you just shut up for a moment? i’m trying to focus here so that we don’t fail!” you whispered sharply at george, minding your voice as you didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everybody. “right, right. forgive me, love. don’t want us blowing up the dungeons.” he held up his hands in mock surrender, eyes wide filled with fake guilt. you groaned, dropping your head onto the table with a quiet thump in pure frustration and annoyance.
you didn’t know how long you could survive being in the same room with him for even one more minute.
and at last, class finally ended after what felt like decades. however, unfortunately for you, you still had a potion to make which automatically leaves you the whole day with george.
lucky you.
after a short and mildly painful discussion (mostly you trying to suggest literally anywhere else), you both agreed to work on the potion in an empty classroom in the dungeons, not far from slughorn’s classroom, a space just quiet enough to focus. it was apparently the old potions’ classroom, before they moved it 2 classrooms away for some reason.
“couldn’t we have done this anywhere else?” you asked with concern, hands filled with everything you needed to brew up a felix felicis; a potion also known as the liquid luck. george, who had a cauldron under his one arm like it weighed nothing, simply shrugged. “we could have. but then it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.” he quipped, glancing over so that his gaze landed on you.
a second, then two, then three.. but he wouldn’t stop staring at you, as if although he’s doing it on purpose.
“quit staring, would you?” you snapped, tilting your head so you’d be facing him. “why should i? you look absolutely stunning when you’re irritated.” his lips then curled in a playful smirk, clearly pleased with himself. but even after you scolded at him, he still wouldn’t stop staring. and for some odd reason, very odd actually, you felt your ears burn.
and to your dismay, he picked up on it. he then leaned in, far too close, until you could feel his warm breath against your ear. “is it just me,” he murmured, voice low and filled with mischief. “or are your ears turning red?”
“ew, get away from me, freak!” you shoved his face away as he erupted into laughter, no doubt that he was very much well entertained. you, on the other hand were beyond pissed—although, your burning face told otherwise. “you’re insufferable. no wonder you haven’t got a girlfriend.” you muttered, turning around the corner of the castle halls, indicating that you and george would be arriving anytime soon.
“no worries, you’ll be my first—and last.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows as a cheeky smirk played on his lips. you simply rolled your eyes, letting out an annoyed huff. though, deep down you felt a tinge of.. something you didn’t want to examine too closely. embarrassed? flustered? perhaps. whatever it was, you refused to give it a name. “well, in order for that to happen is if you would’ve drugged me into taking an amortentia. (love potion).” you said dryly, shooting him a sideway glare.
“ouch, that was mean.” he clutched his chest in mock offense, as if although you had pierced his heart. you didn’t even bother to reply. instead, you pushed open the door open to the classroom, being immediately greeted by a cloud of dust swirling through the air. you waved your hands, attempting to clear it out with a grimace.
“lovely, ain’t it?” george said as he followed behind, setting down the cauldron with a loud clang on an empty table that echoed off the stone walls. you, too, set down your things on the table with a huff. your arms felt a great sense of relief the moment they were freed from the weight. “now, let’s get this over with.” you murmured, rolling up your sleeves as you flipped open advanced potion making.
george peered over your shoulder, “blimey, this looks cheerful.” the instructions were dense, annotated with tiny scribbles and warnings that left no room for error. “It’s notoriously difficult. slughorn said if we mess up even one step, we’ll end up with something closer to liquid disaster than liquid luck.” you stated, voice carried with caution, and just the slightest hint of dread.
and obviously, george being.. well, george, didn’t seem fazed at all. “guess we better get it right, then. i quite like my eyebrows where they are.” you gave him a dry look in return, clearly unamused by his lame joke. “ha-ha, very funny. though, you might want to say goodbye to them just in case.” you retorted before diverting your attention back to the potion. you flipped to the next part of the instructions, scanning each step carefully.
“alright,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, “looks like ashwinder egg’s up first.” george then reached for the jar, unscrewing the lid with a dramatic flourish. “here you go, love.” you’d be lying if you said your stomach wasn’t doing a small, ridiculous flip at the nickname. no matter how casually he threw it around.
snap out of it! this is preposterous, absolutely preposterous.
you snatched the jar almost immediately, shooting him a glare. “don’t—call—me—love.” you said through gritted teeth, using irritation as a flimsy cover for the heat rising in your face. “right, noted. i’ll be sure not to use that name next time, darling.” he said, grinning wickedly. you could feel your cheeks burn, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were fuming, flustered, or embarrassed. or possibly, all three combined. you quickly raised your hand up, threatening to smack him as he ducked down dramatically to avoid your wrath.
“right, got it!” he laughed with a hand shielding his face. “sorry—won’t happen again.” still fuming with anger, you chose to ignore him instead, resuming whatever you were doing before, grabbing the next ingredient with slightly more force than necessary.
the cauldron bubbled steadily now, steam curling into the air as the mixture began to shift in color. you stirred precisely, counting the seconds under your breath, trying to refocus.
“need any help?” he inched closer, shoulders brushing against yours. he may not have know it, but just by this simple, yet affective gesture, your heart strangely started to beat faster.. and faster, until it felt like it might just explode.
you gulped nervously. “um, yeah. just keep stirring slowly for.. for about a minute, then.. heat the cauldron—yeah.” you didn’t know what overcame you, but you couldn’t even form a sentence without stumbling over your own words. and you felt like you wanted to die of embarrassment. never, never, in your life had you stuttered. and now you’re stuttering in front of george? how absurd!
you tried your best as to not have a full-on panic attack as you glued your eyes at the cauldron, determined not to look at him. “you alright there? you seem a bit wobbly,” he remarked, annoyingly delighted. you let out a forced-dry laugh, completely obvious that it was fake. “pfft, what on earth are you blabbering about? i’m fine.” your voice sounded more defensive than it ought to be.
he let out a small chuckle, “right, then.” with that, he turned back to the cauldron and began stirring while you distracted yourself by pretending to read the instructions. you were too busy with your thoughts that you didn’t realize that george was stirring in the wrong direction, and far too quickly—opposite of what the book instructed. “you’re doing it wrong, you prat.” you said, instantly reaching for the ladle.
you hadn’t quite realized it yet, but your hand laid atop his as you demonstrated him how to stir properly—clockwise, and slowly. at this moment, he wasn’t even paying attention to your blabber about why he should stir it properly and whatnots. his gaze was entirely fixed on yours.
“—and if you stir it counterclockwise while it’s still simmering, it’ll basically explode in our faces,” you finished, finally glancing up to meet his eyes, who were already on yours. the second your gazes met, you looked away in record time before quickly pulling back your arm as realization flooded. “i—sorry.” you quickly muttered an apology, cheeks as red as the color of your robes.
he blinked. “no—uh—‘s alright.“ for the first time since you step foot into hogwarts, never, ever, had you heard the george weaseley stumble over his own words. it was as if although just for the slightest moment, the ever-so-smug, unshakable joker had short circuited. “right, then..” you started, voice still tinged with awkwardness as you reached for the next jar, trying far too hard to act normal, as if the most embarrassing and awkward moment had just not happened. “next step is powdered rue. just a pinch.”
── .✦
around two dreadful hours later—thanks to a failed first batch, the two of you finally managed to brew a passable-looking felix felicis. you both leaned over the cauldron, eyeing the glimmering gold liquid that shimmered softly under the dim light of the dungeon. “well,” george started, exhaling as he folded his arms. “looks like we won’t be exploding today. bit of a shame, really.”
you gave him a tired side glance, arching your brow. “speak for yourself. i quite like my eyebrows the wat they are, thanks.” you said dryly, repeating the same sentence he’d thrown at you two hours ago. “ah, see what you did there. but c’mon, admit it. you had fun.” you snorted softly, picking up an empty vial. “if by fun you mean almost failing potions and having to spend two hours straight with you, then yes. loads of it.”
“you’re cruel. d’you know that?” he clutched his chest dramatically. you let out a small chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head as you began gathering the scattered ingredients on the table. see, he’d never admit this—but seeing you chuckle at his jokes instead of being annoyed with it, it made his chest flutter. you laughed. at him. and he clearly took it as a personal victory.
“was that a laugh i hear?” he quipped, nudging you slightly by the shoulders. “thank the lord! turns out you can laugh after all.” he added, a playful glint coating his eyes. you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you grabbed the last ingredient on the table. he mirrored your actions and grabbed the cauldron before carefully lifting the felix felicis. he then opened the door before you, giving a dramatic bow. “ladies first.” he winked, causing you to scrunch your face in disgust jokingly before you marched through anyway.
“graceful as ever,” he muttered, following close behind with a cauldron in one hand and the vial tucked safely in his pocket. the two of you didn’t exactly walk in silence. it was mostly filled with george humming a stupid tune and occasional remarks here and there, which to no one’s surprise—you ignored. but that for sure didn’t last too long since your patience was running out pretty quickly.
“one more word, and i swear i’ll—”
“what, hex me? throw your textbook at my head? honestly, worth it.” he wiggled his eyebrows, clearly unbothered, dare you might say even more entertained by your growing annoyance. “you’re unbelievable.” you muttered under your breath. if only your arms weren’t full, you would’ve smacked him by the head by now.
instead, you were clumsily hauling what felt like half the apothecary, ingredients clinking in your arms as you tried not to drop anything. “alright there, love? need a hand?” he asked once he saw how you struggled with the supplies. “i’m fine,” you lied, fully knowing that all you needed was someone to take even one jar off your hands before you shattered it all across the corridor.
“you’re many things but a great liar,” he chuckled lowly, grabbing two jars and a textbook from your arms before they could slip. you scowled, shifting the remaining weight with a huff. “i could’ve handled that.”
“oh, no doubt.” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm and mockery, to which you rolled your eyes at.
by the time you reached the grand staircase just below the gryffindor common room, you were exhausted, sore, and seconds from losing it entirely. one more flight and you’d be free—free from george, from potion ingredients, and from this absolute nightmare of an evening. you practically drooled just by the thought of your soft mattress on your four-poster bed.
however, your little thoughts were soon interrupted. because apparently, God had other plans.
right as you stepped off the moving staircase and onto the landing near the common room, your foot caught the edge of the step—stupid slippery stone—and you stumbled forward with a startled yelp, your arms flailing as everything threatened to spill out of them. george reacted fast, catching you by the elbow and steadying you before you could faceplant onto the floor.
“falling for me already, i see.” you immediately yanked your arm from his grasp with a glare, cheeks and ears flushed with heat from embarrassment and—unmistakably how flustered you were. “eugh, get your filthy hands off of me!” you hissed while also trying to maintain your balance. this, however, only made him laugh even harder.
and oh, you were pissed. not particularly because he’s made you a laughing stock, but more so because you were angry at yourself. it was so easy for him to get to you—you feel these unfamiliar and strange feelings whenever he’s around and you hated it. out of all people, why george weasley? that one person who never failed to irritate you, who lived to be a walking distraction, and who never took things seriously, quite the opposite of who you were.
“you know, if you wanted an excuse to collapse dramatically into my arms, you could’ve just asked.” you scoffed, bending to grab the jar that had rolled toward the banister before he followed soon after, helping you gather some of the things that had fallen.
once you gathered everything, you finally looked up, only to see george already having a ridiculous grin plastered across his dim-witted face. you could only groan upon seeing him, however as much as you despised it, that foolish smile never failed to make your stomach flutter.
── .✦
sleep didn’t come easily that night. you tossed and turned countless times, and no matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t get him outside your head. it was infuriating. you felt as if you were a madman. “stop, stop, stop!” you screamed onto your pillow, banging your head against it several times in hopes it could stop you from thinking about him.
thank god everyone here was a heavy sleeper, if not, they’d all probably be awake by now and you would’ve got kicked out in no time. you groaned in annoyance as your face sunk onto the pillow.
this is absolutely ridiculous.
you dramatically kicked your blanket off from pure frustration. “for goodness’ get out of my head!” you dragged a hand down your face. the more you tried to get him out of your head, the more he came. oh, you just couldn’t stop thinking about his stupid smile on his ridiculously attractive face, and that outrageous red hair that looked irritatingly appealing. and you really shouldn’t be thinking about his voice—all smooth and teasing and infuriatingly charming.
you groaned once more, flipping onto your stomach and muffling a scream into your pillow. “he’s not even that funny,” you whispered to yourself, and deep down you knew that was a big lie. “he’s not even that good-looking. in fact, he’s the worst looking weasley of all time.” you, again, tried so hard to convince yourself, but you obviously knew this was yet another big lie. you slammed your pillow over your head.
SUMMARY: You get stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day. Thankfully, your best friend George is ready to give you the Valentine's you deserve.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, hurt/comfort, cheating on shitty boyfriends, idiots to lovers, petty!George, dirty talk, oral, piv, dom!George, all the Valentine's fluff
AN: happy valentines day!!!! you all have my heart 🫶
masterlist
Your hurried footsteps echoed along the empty corridor, dampened by the screaming rain pouring from the thick blanket of clouds over the castle.
Fucking perfect, you thought, bitterly wiping tears and splattered rain from your cheeks. It was like the universe was taunting you.
Stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day? Forced to walk back to Hogwarts in shame? Here, have some torrential downpour to really set the mood.
You still couldn't believe Jack stood you up. Left you looking like an idiot in the Three Broomsticks, alone and glowering into your fruity red drink, surrounded by pink streamers and heart balloons larger than your head. Completely humiliating.
Of all the shitty things he'd done to you over the last six months, this took the cake. And bizarrely, you felt like you deserved it for putting up with his bullshit for so long. You should have seen this coming from a mile away.
But you were too native, too stupid to see the red flags right under your nose. Well, that wasn't true. You saw them. You were just too scared to do anything about it.
Too scared to be alone. Too proud to admit you were wrong about him.
Merlin, George was going to be so fucking smug.
Your best friend, George Weasley, hated Jack. He hated Jack more than you'd ever seen him hate anyone. George had never had a problem with your past partners, albeit there was only two. But something about Jack brought out a side of George you’d never seen: vindictive, petty, mean.
Never directed towards you, of course, Jack and his friends bore the brunt of his wrath. It was enough that Jack steered clear of both George and his twin, who always matched his energy.
You knew George was just looking out for you, trying to protect you from, well, this. What you were feeling now. But you'd be damned if you gave him the satisfaction of being right.
Finally, the Fat Lady greeted you with a warm smile as you reached the top of the stairs. “Not out celebrating, lovey? Look at you, you're soaked!”
You sighed, looking down at your new dress, a babydoll in your favorite shade of pink, the fabric mottled with water and clinging to your skin. “Men suck,” you said.
The Fat Lady laughed. “They certainly do! What's the password, dear?”
You gave it to her, and she swung open, a waft of thumping music and the week of alcohol washed over you.
Shit. You'd completely forgotten about the Valentine's party tonight. While a drink sounded lovely, a drunken grind-fest was the last thing you wanted to participate in.
You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to make a beeline towards the girls dormitory. The crowd was thick, pushing and shoving, while music thumped loudly in your brain. Red hearts and cupids and streamers, were everywhere, a sheen of pink glitter starting to collect on your still-damp skin. Everywhere you looked, couples were all over each other, making out of dancing to the music, cuddled up on every available surface.
Tears burned behind your eyes again, and you tried pushing through with a little more force.
You popped out into a quieter area by the roaring fire, a circle of chairs occupied by the Quidditch team and a few others, which meant—
“Y/n?”
You looked up from your feet and locked eyes with George, who was hurriedly shifting a girl off his lap, ignoring her whine of protest while she grabbed at his white shirt.
The knife of hurt inexplicably twisted deeper in your gut, and you turned your back to him, pushing the other way through the crowd.
“Hey—wait!”
You made it to the stairs, but there was no outrunning those long legs—a lesson you'd learned countless times.
George snagged your wrist, turning you back towards him. “What happened?” The furrow between his brows deepened when he took in your tearful, soaked form. “Why are you wet? And where's the bilge-rat you call a boyfriend?”
You yanked your hand out of his hold. “Fuck if I know,” you snapped, trudging up the stairs, George on your heels.
“What do you mean? Didn't you have a date?” He asked, his tone getting angrier by the second.
You didn't respond, opening the door to your dorm and trying to slam it in George's face, but he caught it and pushed in behind you.
“Fuck, will you just tell me what happened? Are you okay?” He made an effort to soften his voice, catching your purse when you flung it at him.
“No, I'm not okay!” You cried, finally facing him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Jack stood me up. He left me at the bar and—” emotion pinched your throat, cutting off your words.
You watched George cycle through the five stages of grief, frozen in the middle of the room. Then—
“Do you want me to find him?” He asked, voice a carefully measured calm.
“And do what?” You wiped at your cheeks, beyond frustrated. You couldn't decide if you wanted him to fuck off, or give you one of those big bear hugs he was so good at.
“Break his teeth in? Throw him in the lake? Set his hair on fire—”
“Stop it, George,” you muttered, sounding more defeated than angry.
He crossed the room to you, taking your trembling hands. “How can I fix it, love?” he asked, peering down at your pitiful, makeup smudged face.
You shook your head, avoiding his perceptive gaze. “Unless you have a time-turner to make me less of an idiot—”
“Oi.” George squeezed your hands, shaking you. “Don't talk about my girl that way. You did nothing wrong.”
You jerked your hands away, pushing past him and stalking over towards you vanity. “Please. You wanted me to leave him before we even got together. You made it abundantly clear how much you hated him.”
“Of course I did. He’s a prick—”
“So, clearly, you think I did something wrong by staying with him.” You angrily tugged your hair out of its style, wet strands tangled and getting frizzy, and started scrubbing off your makeup with a towelette. “Congratu-fucking-lations, you were right. You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?”
George looked like you'd struck him, hovering behind you in the mirror. You hated that he looked so handsome tonight in his white button down and dark wash jeans, his copper hair messy and flecked with glitter and heart-shaped confetti. It made it so much harder to be angry with him.
“You think this is what I wanted?” He asked. “The last thing I want is to see you hurting. Of course I'm not fucking happy that you're heartbroken. Even if it is over some limp-dick weasel.”
You scoffed, though you knew that was true, but it was easier to be angry right now. Easier to push him away than let him in.
George pressed on. “I'd like to hang him by the bollocks from the Whomping Willow for leaving you out in that storm, for all the shit he's done to you—”
“Just—go back to your party, George. I'm sure that doe-eyed girl is still waiting for you,” you hissed. It was a low blow, but you just wanted him gone so you could wallow in self-pity alone.
Suddenly, he was moving. His hands griped your waist, spinning your around and pressing you back into the vanity. His expression was severe. “Don't fucking do that,” he bit. “Don't act like I'm the bad guy when all I've wanted—” his voice caught in his throat, and he turned his head away, like he couldn't look at you.
His hands were burning through the thin fabric of your dress, his grip tight enough to ache, and you felt a long-suppressed heat kindle in your belly. George had manhandled you plenty of times: throwing you over his shoulder, dragging you by the hand through the halls, lifting you to retrieve a book from a high shelf. But this felt…different. Charged in a way you'd spent years trying to ignore for the sake of your friendship.
“What, George?” You asked, gripping the edge of the vanity so you didn't reach out to touch him.
He sighed. “When all I've wanted is to make you happy.” He looked at you again, his dark eyes filled with hurt and something warm, honeyed, that you refused to acknowledge.
Your anger crumbled into guilt. “I-I should have listened,” you croaked, tears rising once again. “I'm sorry, I—”
“No, no. None of that,” he shushed, bundling you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I just feel so…so stupid,” you whimpered, crying into the safety of his chest, enveloped in the spiced, slightly sweet smell of his cologne.
“You aren't stupid, love. Far from it,” he soothed, hand smoothing up and down your spine. “This is on him, not you. You don't deserve to be treated like this.” He rocked you gently while you cried, cooing softly in your ear and keeping you grounded with his touch, until finally, your sobs ebbed to sniffles, and you drew a full, shaky breath. “There you go,” he said. “Take another one—that’s it. I've got you.”
“Thanks, Georgie,” you sniffled into his shirt.
“No need to thank me. I'm sorry that your Valentine's was ruined,” he murmured into your hair.
“I'm sorry yours was ruined too,” you mumbled, your fists tightening in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him a fraction closer, unwilling to part just yet.
“Ruined?” He chuckled. “Got my Valentine right here.” He squeezed you a little tighter, the air wheezing for your lungs until you laughed.
“Since when am I your Valentine?” You asked, pulling back to look up at him, a traitorous stab of affection making your heart skip. Shit, you should not be feeling these things for your best friend. It was just your hurt feelings, the holiday—nothing more.
“Since second year when I gave you that heart-shaped box of chocolates,” he said, pretending to be offended that you didn't remember.
“The one that exploded pink powder all over my face?”
George grimaced. “I forgot it did that…sorry, by the way.”
You smiled, pinching his freckled cheek. “You're forgiven.”
He grinned back, glancing down at your wet dress. “C’mon, get out of this wet cupcake and meet me in my dorm, I have something for you.”
“Cupcake?” You rolled your eyes, finally stepping out of his arms, though his hand lingered on your waist until you were fully out of arms reach. “It's a dress!”
“If you say so,” he teased, perusing your legs as you walked away. “I prefer your bunny pajamas, but—”
You chucked your shoe at him. “Fuck off, I'll see you in a second.”
He held his hands up in surrender and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.
What on earth could he have for you? Probably his usual box of chocolates, you mused as you peeled off the soggy fabric. Hopefully the non-explosive variety.
You riffled through your trunk, searching for something oversized and comfortable. But to your dismay, nearly everything large enough was your boyfriends, and you absolutely refused to wear something of his.
But at the very bottom of your trunk, something familiar caught your eye. You pulled it out, unveiling an old Quidditch hoodie, the letters faded and fabric soft from countless washes. George had lent it to you before a particularly cold match, and Gryffindor won in a landslide. It became a good luck charm of sorts, one you wore to every game there after.
But when you started dating Jack, he'd gotten pissed at you for wearing it, and you'd hidden it at the bottom of your trunk, never quite ready to give it back to George.
It smelled of green grass and open sky, and you tugged it over your head, letting it's warmth envelop you. Then, you put on a pair of sleep shorts and fuzzy socks, and padded out of the room towards George's, knocking twice before letting yourself in.
Fred and George were standing by the window, arguing in hushed voices, and straightened abruptly when you walked in.
“Hey, gorgeous!” Fred said, crossing the room and pulling you into a back-breaking hug. He reeked of beer. “How are we?”
“Peachy,” you replied tightly, glancing at George over Fred’s shoulder. He was scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish.
“Naughty girl, lying to me.” Fred winked, and you swatted his shoulder. “But don't worry, love. The boys are on it!”
“The boys? Wait—Fred!” But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You glared at George, and he held his hands up.
“They were worried about you!” He said defensively. “We care about you, y’know…” his voice trailed off when his eyes landed on your hoodie. “You still have that?”
Heat creeped up your neck. “’Course I do.”
“I thought shit-for-brains made you—”
“He tried,” you replied, tension coiling around the two of you once again.
A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “My good luck charm,” he chuckled, and your heart leapt into your throat.
“So, what do you have for me?” You asked, sitting on the edge of his bed like you always did. But something in his eyes flashed, making your lower belly heat.
What was going on with him?
He pushed himself from the wall and walked towards his trunk, just to the left of you. He rummaged around, withdrawing a pink gift bag with heart-covered tissue paper sticking out from the top.
“Oh, George…you didn't have to do this,” you said when he sat beside you.
“I wanted to.” He shrugged, setting the bag on your lap.
Heart pounding in your chest, you carefully removed the tissue paper, finding a pile of candy: chocolates and gummy lips and heart-shaped lollipops. There were also a few sachets of your favorite tea, pilfered from the kitchen, you imagined, and a copy of the book you'd been eyeballing your last trip to Hogsmeade with him and Fred.
Your heart was so full you feared it may burst. “Georgie, this is so sweet, thank you—”
“There's one more thing,” he said, gently taking the bag from you. He stuck his hand all the way to the bottom, and withdrew a small, pink-wrapped box with a ribbon tied around it.
The air was sucked from your lungs, ears ringing with shock as you gingerly took the box from him. He fidgeted beside you as you slowly unwrapped the paper, fingers trembling. The energy was taught around you, practically humming with tension.
A velvet box fell into your palm, the most gorgeous shade of burgundy with a delicate golden latch.
You almost didn't want to open it, terrified of what this meant, but so giddy you could sing. George, the poor guy, looked ready to burst out of his skin with impatience.
Carefully, you opened the lid. Inside was a gorgeous chain bracelet, the metal polished to perfection, with two charms resting against the velvet pillow. A tiny heart with your initial etched onto it, and a small fox, George's favorite mischievous, red-haired critter.
You pressed a hand to your mouth, tears pooling on your lower lashes. It was the most thoughtful gift you'd ever received. “George, I—”
“And you can get more charms, there's a shop in Hogsmeade with loads, books and birds and stars--”
You flung your arms around his neck, cutting off his nervous rambling. “I love it, Georgie, thank you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck.
He relaxed, his arms looping around your waist. “Of course,” he replied.
You pulled back, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand, inspecting the little fox. It crossed your mind that if Jack saw this, he'd be livid, probably go so far as to threaten George, break off the precious little fox, and your smile fell.
“Hey, what happened?” George asked, shifting to kneel in front of you as you curled inward. “You don't like the fox?”
“No, no—” you tried to suppress the tears forcing their way up. “I love the fox. I just—”
George's expression hardened. “Jack won't like it,” he said, an edge to his voice. “You're not going to stay with him, are you?”
You shook your head. “No, I'm not. But we're technically still together—”
“That's bullshit,” George snarled, pushing to his feet and stalking away from you. “He fucking forfeited his right when he left you alone like that. You could have gotten hurt. He just fucking abandoned you and is probably off with some other bird—”
A sob broke free from your chest, and he halted his tirade, shoulders sagging.
“Do you want him?” George asked, crouching in front of you again.
You shook your head. “No, I don’t,” you admitted.
George reached out to cradle your face, catching your tears with his thumbs. His eyes were so sweet, so sincere, it made your teeth ache. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words still felt like a punch through your chest.
Your mind was reeling. Of course, a part of you always wanted more with him, but… “I do, of course I do…but what if that ruins everything?” Your fingers curled into his shirt. “I don't want to lose you—”
“Never,” he said, shaking you so you met his eyes. “Never.”
“Relationships are different, though. What if we don't work like…that?”
His hands moved down to hold your neck, his touch gentle but insistent, your pulse thundering under his fingertips. “I’m still me, and you're still you. Are you going to look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't thought about it? That you haven't felt the pull?”
You don't reply, averting your eyes from his face.
“Not even when you're all alone, and Jack’s left you half-loved, tangled in your sheets…you don't think about me coming in there and taking care of you?”
Heat scorched your cheeks, your thighs clenching at the low purr of his voice, a pitch you hadn't heard before.
“Because I think about it all the time.”
You pussy throbbed and you gasped, shocked by the way your body was reacting to his words alone, your mind scrambling to keep up with this new reality you've stumbled into.
“Knowing I could treat you better, love you better—it keeps me up at night, baby. Imagining all the ways I could take care of you, make you happy, make you mine—”
Unable to stand it any longer, you yanked him forward and connected your mouth with his, cutting him off. He groaned, surging up to tackle you back onto his mattress, his lips hungry and rough against yours. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, his lips, his touch, his heat, burning you from the inside out.
No one has ever kissed you like that before, desperate, ravenous. With an eagerness that was palpable, his heart thundering against yours as he pressed impossibly closer to you.
He pried open your lips with his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with fervid strokes. One of his hands slid under your hoodie, caressing the bare skin of your hip and up your side, leaving tingles in the wake of his calloused palm. His other hand found the crook of your knee, lifting it up to hug his waist, opening your legs so he could press closer, harder…
“George!” You gasped when he rolled his hips against yours, the hard ridge of his cock straining against his jeans, your tiny shorts offering next to no barrier.
“Fuck, I've wanted to hear that for so long,” he panted, burying his face into your neck to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin. “Sound so pretty, baby.” He rolled his hips again, and your whole body arched closer to him, desperate for more as a weak whine spilled from your lips. The seam of his jeans caught your swelling clit just right, making your entire body hum with desire.
“Merlin’s fuck—what are you doing to me?” You keened, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, starving for the feel of his skin against yours.
“The bare minimum,” he teased, nipping at your earlobe. “You make it so easy to love you.” His hands squeezed at your flesh, his breath hot against your neck as he continued rocking your hips together. “So fucking sexy, so responsive. I knew you'd be perfect—” he grunted when you thrust your hips back up against him.
You finally managed to get his shirt off, pushing it over his shoulders and he tossed it onto the floor. The pale stretch of freckled skin on his chest made your mouth water, but you didn't get to admire him for long. He tugged your hoodie over your head, casting it across the room, and revealing the near see-through lacy red thing you'd selected for the evening and didn't bother changing out of.
A broken sound hissed through his teeth. Jealousy bloomed in his eyes, his jaw feathering with irritation.
You reached up to caress his cheek, drawing his eyes to your face. “He never got to see it,” you cooed, petting the hard line of his jaw and coaxing him to relax. “All yours now, yeah? No one else's.”
His eyes searched your face, anger melting into scalding desire. “Say it again,” he rasped.
“All yours,” you hummed, pecking his lips.
His hand spread across your collarbones, long fingers stretching nearly shoulder to shoulder, and he shoved you roughly back onto the bed. The next moment, his mouth was on your chest, hot and warm through the thin lace as he smeared open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His tongue lashed one peaked nipple, drawing a cry from your lips as he sucked the bud and fabric between his teeth.
Your hands flew into his hair, tugging and guiding his mouth where you wanted him, and he went willingly, eager for any and all contact, quick to repeat the tricks that made your breath hitch.
His hand slid down your stomach, beneath he waist band of your shorts, and he dragged his middle finger through your dripping slit, a high-pitched moaning making him smile against your chest.
“Merlin, you're soaked,” he purred, kissing up your neck and capturing your lips in a messy, top-lip kiss. His finger swirled around your puffy clit, applying just enough pressure to have pleasure radiating through your body. “You get this wet for him, baby?” He whispered, dipping his fingertips into your entrance, once, twice, before sinking down to the knuckle. “Little cunt sucking me right in. She was ready for me, hm?”
“G-George,” his name was a fractured whimper on your tongue, your mind going fuzzy when he curled his finger up, hitting a spot that you'd never felt before.
“Oh, you poor thing,” George cooed, adding a second finger and stroking the same spot again, your whole body hitching up the bed at the intensity of it. But his body weight held you down, his mouth painting gentle kisses along your skin to try and soothe you. “He never touch you like this? Never found that spot—fuck, right there, baby? That's it?”
You bobbled your head like an idiot, grinding your hips back into his hand as he started fucking his fingers into you more deliberately, the lewd, gooey smack of your pussy filling the dorm.
“Good girl,” he praised, propping himself up to peer down at you, eyes blown wide with lust as he took in your trembling, sweat-kissed skin. “How did I get so fucking lucky?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you again, all softness and affection, so different than the relentless way he was dominating your cunt.
You pawed at his jeans, tugging at his belt. “Mmph, please—need you,” you whined against his mouth, and he groaned.
“Fuck, you're killing me, love,” he grated, his hips bucking into your hand. “You want my cock that bad?”
You nodded, still struggling with his belt.
He pushed off of you and undid his belt, removing his jeans and shoes in record time, his flushed cock slapping up against his stomach. He grabbed you by the ankle and tugged you to the edge of the bed.
“You've got a slutty little thong under here, don't you?” He asked, toying with the waistband of your shorts.
“Maybe,” you said, half-distracted by his cock jumping at the sound of your voice, the tip slick with precum.
He glanced down, following your gaze, and chuckled. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl,” he chastised with a light slap to your inner thigh. He pushed your shorts down your legs, followed by the red thong your wore underneath. He tossed the thong onto his bedside table, instead of the floor with the rest of the clothes.
You raised an eyebrow at him, about to make some teasing remark, when he dragged his cockhead through your messy slit, and all thoughts tumbled right out of your brain, dripping from between your legs.
“For later, yeah?” He said, smirking when your eyes rolled back when he tapped your clit with the head. “So next time I see that fucker, I can show him exactly what he lost.”
“George—” you started to chastise him for being cruel when he notched at your entrance, sinking halfway into your willing pussy, and you both cried out. The fullness, the stretch, was mind-melting. Better than anything you'd felt in your life.
George braced his hand beside your head, sagging forward as he hissed a curse under his breath. “Fucking shit, love,” he panted, his muscles locked up so tight he was practically vibrating. “M'done for if you keep squeezin’ me like that.”
You moaned, lifting your hips to take him a little deeper, needing more even though you felt like he was ripping you apart at the seams. “Please, Georgie,” you whimpered, clawing at his skin. “Want all of you.”
“I know, honey. I know. Just give me a second.” He leaned further down, peppering kisses across your cheeks and jaw. “Don't wanna hurt you, gotta relax f’me.”
You took a few breaths, trying to get your muscles to relax as his lips moved over your fevered skin. You felt him slide a bit deeper, the stretch not quite as intense.
“Good girl, that's it. Just a little further,” he praised, his hand gripping the flesh of your hip as he started rocking into you, slow, rolling thrusts that got incrementally longer each time, until his pelvis met yours and you were a moaning mess, writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
George straightened, his hand on the bed shifting to your shoulder, and he snapped his hips forward, forcing a cry from your lips as pleasure struck you like lightning. He set a rough pace, fucking you deep and hard, his grip on your body keeping you locked in place.
You were lost in it, helpless to the pitch and roll of his ocean, completely adrift in the pleasure he was pulling from your body. You tried to fuck back against him, but your body refused to cooperate, dumb and boneless and cockdrunk.
“So fucking pretty like this. Tell me how pretty you are, baby,” he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub tight circles over your clit.
“Mmph—fuck, so pretty,” you managed, voice throttled with lust and desperation.
“Yeah, you are.” He grinned. “My pretty girl takin’ this cock so well. He fuck you like this? Have you a drooling mess for him?”
You shook your head, nails biting into his thighs as your release prowled closer, coiling tight in your belly. “No, never,” you keened, when ratcheted up the pace sensing your looming orgasm.
“That's right, all mine. Who does this pussy belong to? Who has your heart?”
“You, you! Fuck, George, I’m—”
“Go on, love. Come for me, I'm right there with you. Come on.” His thrusts grew rougher and sloppier as his own release approached, and with a final, punishing snap of his hips, you both went flying over the edge and into white hot bliss.
You screamed and he caught the sound with a kiss, fucked you through it as your pussy clamped around him. Wringing every bit of pleasure from you both until he sagged forward, his head falling into the crook of your neck as you both gasped for breath.
He kissed along the damp column of your throat, making his way to your lips, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your trembling thighs. “Did so good,” he murmured between lazy pecks. “I'm proud of you.”
You giggled, feeling almost giddy to have George in your arms, kissing you and praising you so sweetly. “That was amazing,” you breathed, and he smiled, giving one last thrust before withdrawing and using magic to clean you both up.
“You were amazing,” he corrected. “Like I said, you're easy to love.”
Butterflies rioted in your stomach. “So are you.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before handing you your hoodie and shorts. You both got semi-dressed and snuggled into his bed, his bare chest under your ear, heart thumping steadily.
You grabbed the gift bag and took out the bracelet. “Will you put it on me?”
“Of course,” he beamed, carefully taking the the jewelry and clasping it around your wrist, kissing the tender skin of your pulse before releasing you. “Looks perfect on you,” he said, looking down at your smiling face as you turned your wrist this way and that.
“I love it, Georgie. Thank you.” You snuggled closer into his side.
“Always.” He dropped a kiss on top of your head, then grabbed the gift back from you, pulling out a handful of candy and popping one of the lollipops into his mouth. “Not as sweet as your pussy, but…”
You rolled your eyes and placed a chocolate truffle on your tongue, letting the deliciousness fill your mouth.
Bang! There was a fumbling outside of the door and George quickly yanked the curtain shut, just before what sounded like several people came tumbling into the room.
“Get the fuck off of me, Weasley—” Jack.
“Absolutely not, you're going to apologize,” Fred replied, his voice a little too chipper for the current situation.
George was up in a blink, his chest littered with the marks you gave you him, and pushed through the curtain. “Well, well. Seems you aren't dead, or maimed…so what exactly is your excuse for standing up my girl on Valentine's Day?” George asked.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, I—your girl?” Jack hissed. “She's mine.”
George chuckled. “Love, would you like to come out here and set the record straight?”
“What?” Jack barked. “She's not here—”
You slipped out of bed and tried to right yourself before stepping out of the curtain and into the room. Fred and Lee had Jack by arms, dressed only in his boxers. Harry and Ron stood off to the side, watching everything unfold with mild amusement.
George was leaning against the bed frame, lollipop in his cheek, a triumphant smirk on his face.
“We're done, Jack,” you said, getting it over with. But strangely, you didn't feel any of the guilt from before. And you shouldn't. Jack was a prick, and didn't deserve your tears or empathy.
“I miss one date and you shack up with fucking Weasley?” Jack spit, and George's eyes darkened. “Fucking whore—”
Fred and Lee shook him roughly, yelling at him to watch his mouth, and you recoiled a bit. George seemed to stay surprisingly calm, until you saw him reach for his Beater bat beside the bed.
“George, wait—”
George jabbed the tip of the bat into Jack's sternum, and the boy went pale. “If I hear you running your fucking mouth about her again, I will smash your jaw to splinters. Clear?”
Your heart lost its rhythm. You'd never seen George like this, and you loved it. Loved being his.
Jack bobbed his head yes, trembling in Fred and Lee's hold.
Lee snickered. “Prick looks like he might piss himself.”
“Now get the fuck out,” George ordered.
“Wait, one more thing,” you said, and the boys all turned their attention to you. You sauntered up to Jack, and you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.
Fucking idiot.
You thrust your knee up, nailing him right in the bollocks, and he howled so loud the other boys dropped him into a heap on the floor.
“Fuck you,” you spit, turning on your heel and stepping into George's open arms.
“That's my girl,” George cooed, taking the lollipop of his mouth to kiss you properly, the strawberry flavor sweet on his tongue. He waved at the others over your head as he deepened the kiss, and you heard them all file out, laughing and jeering as they dragged Jack behind them, the door swinging shut and locking.
“He deserved it,” you mumbled between kisses, giggling when George lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist.
“And now it's time you get what you deserve,” he smirked, laying you back down on the mattress and shifting down between your legs. “And I get my reward for absolutely crushing Valentine's Day.”
You burst out laughing, the sound shifting to moan as he licked a stripe through your slit. “You're right, best Valentine's Day ever.”
I reblogged her late last year and my 2024 has been very satisfying work-wise and (secure enough to not stress out) money-wise so far. Money Snake is wise and good.
"release your creativity" - a google ad for gen ai.
Wow.
Here's something tangible.
List of hobbies
(added a cut 14th Jan 2026 - sorry I missed it! annoyed at the time)
"I make stuff"
3d modelling
Animation
Calligraphy
Carpentry
Clay
Crochet
Cross stitch
Drawing
DIY
Embroidery
Engraving
Figure painting (miniatures)
Game Dev
Glass blowing
Graffiti
Inventing
Jewellery
Kite making
Knitting
Knots
Painting
Paper mache
Perfume
Photography
Plushies
Pottery
Puppets
Rube Goldberg machine
Sand
Sewing
Soap
Tattoo
Lino prints
Metallurgy
Music composition
Origami
Quilting
Weaving
Welding
Wood burning
Wood carving
Wood block prints
"I want to write"
Creative writing
Poetry
Reading
Story writing
TTRPG
"I'm interested in design"
Architecture
Cosplay
Engineering
Fashion
Furniture
Interior design
"Something tasty"
Baking
Beer
BBQ and Grill
Coffee
Cookery
Competitive eating
Foraging
Jams, preserves, marmalades
Jerky
Tea
Wine tasting
"I want to learn something"
Auto mechanic
Coding
Languages
- ancient (greek, roman),
- fantastical (Elvish, Klingon)
- local dialects and native
- widely used (mandarin, french, spanish)
Study something
Take a class
"Let me move my body"
On my own or with a partner
Acrobatics
Archery
Bowling
Climbing
Cycling
Dance
- Ballet
- Ballroom
- Capoeira
- Salsa
- K-pop
- Finger Tutting
- Pole
- Zumba
Fencing
Horse riding
Ice Skating
Jogging
Knife and axe throwing
Parkour
Roller blading
Weight lifting
In the water
Diving
Kayaking
Mermaid
Surfing
Swimming
As part of a team
Airsoft
Baton twirling
Football
Rugby
Use a racket
Badminton
Cricket
Squash
Tennis
Martial arts
Boxing
MMA
Muay Thai
Judo
Kickboxing
Wrestling
There's SO many sports.
"Music sounds nice"
Brass
Custom
Electronic
Singing
Strings
Open mic events
Percussion
Woodwind
There's SO many instruments and styles.
"I like the outdoors"
Bird watching
Camping
Clouds
Dowsing
Fishing
Geo caching
Geology
Hiking
Magnet fishing
Outdoor climbing
Stargazing
Slacklining
Survival
Train spotting
"I need it to be free"
Library - computers, books, events, resources
Meditation
Walking
Study something, this is can range from reading a fandom wiki to reading a text book word for word, just do whatever you're interested in.
Lots of hobbies also have a lower upfront cost or free depending on where you are. Clubs and societies, friends and family can introduce you to things.
Most things have a cheaper entry version specifically made to just try it out, even stuff like kayaking you can hire or join a thing so you don't buy a boat outright. Seriously, if you're keen on something, let's make it happen, you don't need the top end anything to start out. If you like it enough then you upgrade later.
"Dextrous?"
Cardistry
Card shuffling
Cups
Juggling
Lockpicking
Pen spinning
Poi
Rubik's cube
Magic
Yoyo
"Let me play!"
Bingo
Board games
Cards
Checkers
Chess
Coloring books
Daily word games
Dominoes
Gaming
Go
Lego
Mahjong
Puzzles (Jigsaw, Sudoku, Kakuro, Picross)
Roleplay
Shoji
Video games
Xiangqi
"Talking!"
Acting
Comedy
Debate
Poetry slams
Public speaking
Voice acting
"Can I look after something?"
Bee-keeping
Cat sitting
Dog walking
Fish
Gardening
Terrarium
"I need to get out of my head"
Bathing
Massage
Journaling
Tai Chi
"Kink adjacent?"
Rope
Options are more case by case, so talk to people.
"I like collecting things"
Cards
Coins
Figurines
Travel souvenirs
Rocks (minerals, rock polishing, fossils)
Stamps
Stickers
Collect anything
Geographical issues
Naturally much of this is location dependant, living far out is naturally going to make some things more accessible than others. Being in a city raises options. Your best bet when arriving in a new place is just check out what's local, see what's around, look for events.
---
You can just do and learn things for the sake of doing it.
It doesn't have to be monetised, you don't have to be good, it doesn't have to be useful nor beneficial.
A world that considers typing random words into a machine the height of creative capacity mustn't be allowed to exist.
wild clover flowers- animal magick, blessings, breaking curses, luck, love
apple seeds- love, secrets, knowledge, gateways, divination, prosperity
tree bark- protection, binding, banishment, cleansing, purification
rocks- many rocks have crystals hidden inside, the most common is quartz types. if unsure, rockcs can represent strength, stability, protection and banishing. if you suspect its a crystal, look it up and discover the correspondences that matter to you!
will add more as i can, feel free to add your own!!
lemon verbena - a boost of power, ending relationships
lime - sourness, bitterness
lobelia - discord
mace - misery, strife
mandrake - misery, strife
mistletoe - isolation, confusion
mullein - spirit work, nightmares
mustard seed - strife, discord
myrrh - a boost of power
nightshade (belladonna) - discord, illness
onion - strife
patchouli - illness
poke root - confusion, discord
poppy seed - discord
rue - misery
safflower - destruction
spanish moss - bad luck
slippery elm - ending relationships
stinging nettle - jealousy, envy, discomfort
sumac - bad luck
tobacco - a substitute for any baneful herb
tormentil - distress, harm, discord
vetiver - silence
wormwood (absinthe) - misery, strife
yew - spirit work
yohimbe bark - impotency
planets:
mars - power, force, energy, war, conflict, jealousy
saturn - law, justice, chaos, revenge
neptune - confusion, illusion, chaos
pluto - death, mystery, crisis
celestial bodies:
black hole - darkness, destruction
comet - stasis, isolation
supernova - destruction, endings
lunar phases:
waning - binding, banishing
dark - destruction, banishing, justice
black - power, manifestation
taglocks:
drawings
photos
the target’s name written on paper
the target’s signature
an item that belongs to the target
the target's DNA
other ingredients:
cigarette butts
broken glass
razorblades
vinegar
lemon/lime juice
alcohol
bones
needles
nails
thorns
shark teeth
catfish or urchin spines
murex seashells
flying devil oil
dead insects
black sand
charcoal
disclaimer: i do not condone the unethical practice of collecting or harvesting animal parts, or forcefully obtaining taglocks. this is just a list of theoretical correspondences and I am not responsible for the actions of others. for entertainment purposes only.
