people with venus in 12th house are seen by the people who are interested in them romantically as 'so naive', but they will feel very tenderly about this naiveness. eg they would say it with tears in their eyes and wavering voice.
although mars is considered to be in its domicile in scorpio, I honestly don't think it's a strong placement to have mars in in this society. scorpio is a water sign so all the drive and energy of mars gets filtered through this watery lens and makes them go sideways and a little unsure about doing things because their emotions are in it. like how a scorpion scuttles from side-to-side with its stinger in the air in contemplation/preparation but not actually going in for the attack. a capricorn mars is the best to have in this society as it doesn't have this emotional issue, but is not dangerous as they only go after things that are important to them eg making money. in my opinion the most dangerous mars sign is sagittarius because they are so reckless and can act out violently at anyone and at anytime, and they have the physical strength to do so.
people who have virgo sun with scorpio moon tend to be doctors. I see a lot of them with this placement. it's perfect because their sun means they nail the analytical side of medicine and then the moon means that they are naturally drawn to the emotional themes of that career (illness, decay, death) and can deal with them. capricorn suns are doctors because they need the hustle/money for the long-haul, not because they care about people.
gemini sun with scorpio moon is the perfect placement for people who work for the government/mi6/journalistic investigation/gathering secret intel.
leo moons want to seem happy to others all the time - they keep up appearances and don't want people to see them being negative/miserable/sad/lonely, because their mother's love/joy was hard to earn - they felt they had to be the light for their mother to get her to be affectionate towards them. maybe the mother had depression/mental health issues. they couldn't be sad around her.
people with capricorn moon are death personified. they make scorpios look like posers. they have a very muted, dark energy to them. also physically look like skeletons. the remind you of the physical nature/constraints of the body because saturn = structure and form. it's rare to see them laugh. they seem protected, like you wouldn't choose them as a murder victim, as they have this strong gravitational centre, like they're invincible. its like a reward/superpower for everything they've gone through.
libra risings give dolores umbridge vibes. looks cute but is a bitch (aries 7th house).
leo mercuries love listening to themselves talk.
virgo venus men are very feminine. in the sense that they aren't reckless/boyish but value diligence and intelligence, are concerned about getting things right. probably prefer the company of women too.
sagittarius risings have the most beautiful smiles when they smile with their teeth.
Umbridge: [to Dumbledore] She told the students I'm on cocaine!
McGonagall: I didn't say she's on cocaine... I said she acts like a person who's on cocaine.
Pairing: George Weasley + Reader
Word count: 1k
Summary: You comfort George after a big fight (The fight in the fifth book with Draco Malfoy)
Warnings: Injuries? I think that is all, but lmk if you notice anything
Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist
I take in a deep breath and then knock slowly at the boys’ door. No response. I knock again, and instead I hear a grumble. I take it as a sign to slowly open the door, I take a peek from behind it, and George is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Fred, on the other hand, is lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey.” I murmur, and George tilts his head to see me from in between his fingers. He doesn’t smile at me like he usually does, and it makes me believe that this time is worse than the rest. Fred, sits himself up on his elbows, and he looks as though he’s in much better shape than George is.
I purse my lips and look back at George again. I take a few shy steps towards his bed, and then sit down beside him. He shifts a bit to the side allowing more room for me. I look back at Fred again, but it turns out he’d already read my mind and left the room after giving me two thumbs up.
I place a tentative hand on George’s thigh, and it makes him lift his head up from his hands. I could see the way his face was contorted, frowning, scrunched up brows, and his jaw clenched. I note the obvious, “You’re pissed.”
I almost feel stupid saying it because of course he would be. Malfoy was out of line, more than usual, but instead of a few insults this time it resulted in a fight, and George got expelled from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, and to make matters worse this is his last year. He replies, “I’m not pissed, I’m hurt.”
It’s my turn to frown because the words that that git Malfoy said couldn’t actually be getting to him, could they? I voice, “George, you couldn’t actually care about what he said. He was just saying it to get a reaction out of you. His best insult was calling you a weasel, he’s an idiot for Merlin’s sake!”
“Doesn’t make any of them less true.” He protests. I’m baffled by his response, I say, “No, they aren’t-”
“Yes, they are.” He snaps, and he scrunches his face up, eyes shut in regret at raising his voice. He cups my hand as an apology, brushing his lips over the back of my hand before explaining, “He’s right. We are poor, and the clothes we wear are hand-me-downs-”
I interrupt him, “I will not go a second longer listening to you talk about yourself, or your family that way. Money doesn’t matter as much as you’re making it seem. And surely, you’re not going to let comments from an idiot who cares more about blood status and money than what a person is actually like get to your head.”
“But, wouldn’t you like to have more than what the money that I have can get you?” He implores, and I give him a weak smile. Raising my hands to cup his face, my thumb grazing the scratch that he has across his eyebrow. I say, “And we’ll have that, George.”
I teased him a little more, “You still are planning to open the shop, aren’t you?” A small smile breaks on his face, and he even lets out a small chuckle. The air feels lighter around us, and George leans closer to me to press a kiss to my lips. I sigh, the feeling of it never gets old.
I look down at his hands, and frown at the sight of the blood. George was the one who gave out most of the blows and punches. He was too angry after the fight, and left stomping to his room. I wanted to insist that he go to Madame Pomfrey for his injuries, but I could tell he needed some time to blow off some steam, that’s the reason why I waited before talking to him.
“Do you want to go to the Hospital wing to heal those?” I ask, and he shakes his head, looking down at his knuckles, presumably, remembering that they were bleeding. He rests his head on my shoulder, and my shoulder is weighed down. He hums, “I’d rather not face anyone for a while.”
“Don’t worry, I can heal them for you. Not as good as Madame Pomfrey, but it’ll do for now.” I decide, bringing out my want from my robes. I start to wave my wand at the cracks in the skin, and mutter small enchantments. The small ones fade away, but the larger ones leave small scars on the skin. I rub my thumb over his hand to signal that I’m done, and George twists his head to leave a small kiss to the base of my neck.
I raise my hand to lift his head from off of my shoulder, and hold his chin, raising my wand to cast a spell over the scar that slashed across his eyebrow. I bite my lip at the sight of it. George questions, “What is it?”
“You look so good with that scar.” I admit, feelings my cheeks heat up at the confession. He smirks at me, and I can already hear the teasing coming from a mile away. He grins and says, “Such a shame for you that it’ll go away in a few days…of course, I can get into more fights, so you’ll never have to do without it.”
I hid my face in his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped his arms around me, laughing at my reaction. I mumble, patting his back gently, “Stay out of fights till we see what we can do about this Quidditch suspension, alright?”
He pushes me away from his chest to look into my eyes. He leans down and kisses me once, and twice and another one after that. He says, “Thank you.”
why tf do characters like Voldemort or Snape, etc become “complex characters with nuanced backstories” when they do evil shit but when women do evil things (Petunia, Umbridge) they’re juts selfish and evil. like. ok. what the fuck.
Requested: Yes ("Hii! I was wondering if you could do a fic where reader is dating Harry and she is introducing him to her parents, who she didn’t know were best friends with Lilly and James and they are so happy that she has brought Harry back into their lives and show him a bunch of their memories with his parents and he feels very welcome in her home and stays there every summer from there on" - Anon)
Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader
Summary: After a horrible detention with Umbridge, y/n invites Harry to meet her parents, and he realized y/n is his home.
Word count: 2.2K
Warnings: parents (cause I know how traumatic they can be), fluff (cause I can't write anything else), English is not my first language
A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so, so sorry it took so long for me to write it, but Uni (aka my personal hell on Earth) basically destroyed my mental health, and I lost all motivation to write lol. I hope you like it! ^^
[y/f/n= your father's name]
Today had already not been a particularly good one - and it was only the second day of the school year. The classes had seemed to take forever, the teachers had all decided to not be interesting, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything they said and the rain had decided to be there, too. As you walked towards the Gryffindor common room, the only thing that you wanted was to cuddle with your boyfriend. When you came in, you immediately saw Harry and his best friends sitting on one of the sofas.
“Hey,” you walked closer in their direction.
“Hi, y/n.”
Harry gestured for you to sit beside him, and once you did, he gave you a quick kiss. And just like every time he kissed you, you felt butterflies in your stomach - which you used to think people lied about until he kissed you the year before at the Yule ball.
“Had a good day?” Hermione asked.
“Boring, and very long,” you sighed. “You guys?”
“Average,” Ron said.
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Harry got detention.”
“What?” you turned to Harry. “Why?”
“Well,” Ron said, “we had class with Umbridge, and she said that Harry lied about you-know-him’s return.”
I see.
You nodded, immediately understanding what followed.
“And I imagine you said she was wrong, then she insisted that you were lying, and so on and so forth until she gave you detention,” you told Harry.
“I had to defend myself,” Harry answered. “And she said Cedric’s death was an ‘accident’”.
You let out a silent sigh, and took Harry’s hand in yours. You couldn’t really blame him, and understood that he had to defend himself when people - and there were a lot of them - accused him of lying, but you still didn’t want him to be in trouble.
“Can’t Dumbledore do something?” you asked. “He knows you’re telling the truth.”
“I’d rather not ask,” Harry said.
His tone signified he wouldn’t change his mind, so you didn’t insist. You put your head on his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead. Still holding his hand, you felt his body relax a little.
“When is your detention supposed to be?” you asked him.
“Every night of the week starting tomorrow.”
“Merlin’s beard.”
*-*-*-*
After that conversation, you wanted to help Harry relax, so you two went to the lake and cuddled there until dinner. He asked about your day - you were one year below him - and he told you about how McGonagall actually took his side when he was sent to her office, and even offered him biscuits. When you guys, Harry felt better, and you hoped it was the only time he would get in trouble this year.
The next day, you went to Honeydukes to get Harry’s favorite sweets, and then waited for him to come out of Umbridge’s office. Ginny, one of your best friends, sat with you for a while. At some point, Hermione and Ron came to give you some food from the kitchen - as you had skipped dinner so that you could wait for Harry. After a few hours, he finally came out. He seemed a little bit pale, but still offered a small smile when he saw you. You kissed him and, as you often did, admired how handsome he was.
“How was it?” you asked.
“Not bad. I had to write…lines.”
“Oh, thank Merlin. I was worried she’d make you do something horrible. Here, Ron and Hermione brought you this from the kitchen” you said, handing him the sweets. “And I brought this from Honeydukes. To lift up your spirits.”
“Thanks, love.”
He reached out a hand to take them, and all of a sudden, you saw something red on his hand.
“What’s this?” you frowned.
“What?”
He immediately put the sweets in the pockets of his robe, and kept his hand there.
“Your hand. It seemed red.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Harry, please. Let me see.”
As you had seen it, there was a red area, like a scar, on his hand.
“How did that happen?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I probably bumped into something.”
You nodded. “It’ll probably heal up quickly.’
“You’re right. Say, love, can we just go to the common room to eat all of this?” he said quickly. “I’m starving.”
“Of course, darling.”
“Are you alright?” you asked, now worried.
But you couldn’t have been more wrong. The next day - where you had class with Umbridge for the first time and she kept looking at you weirdly - and those that followed, you waited for Harry to come out of her office. After the third day, you had tried to take his hand, but he immediately pulled away, as if he had been stung.
“Yes.”
“Is it your hand? Did the redness get worse?”
“No, it’s…”
He sighed, and showed you his hand. You gently took it to take a better look, and gasped.
I must not tell lies.
“Oh my God, Harry! How is…What happened?!”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“Yes, it is!” you frantically exclaimed, both furious and confused on why Harry wasn’t furious as well. “Harry, she can’t do that! We must not let her get away with it! We need to tell McGonagall and Dumbledore immediately.”
“No,” he retorted. “That’s exactly what Umbridge wants. I won’t give her the satisfaction.”
“But, Harry-”
“y/n, please. I just want to go to dinner.”
“Very well,” you said.
Before entering the Great Hall, Harry made you promise to not tell Ron or Hermione, and you half-heartedly did.
The next weeks that followed, things didn’t get any better. People constantly whispered mean things about Harry, and Umbridge basically gave him detention every time he was in class with her - and she also gave you one for a week after, sick of her lies and her false nice manners, you spoke up to defend him.
“y/n, you can’t get in trouble because of me,” he had said when you told him. “Whatever she says, whatever she does, do not talk back. I can’t…I can’t have her hurt you, okay?”
You agreed, and he held you tightly.
During your detention, you had to write “I must not listen to lies”, and the scar on your hand that it provoked got worse at every detention, just like Harry’s. He waited for you every night, just like you had waited for him, and each time he was more horrified, and held you tight for hours after.
However, school break was coming soon, and you had an idea. Though your parents knew about you and Harry dating - and approved -, they had never met him, and you thought it would do him some good to leave Hogwarts for a while. You wrote to your parents to ask if Harry could come with you to your childhood house, and they said yes. The day after you got their answer, you found Harry waiting for you in the common room.
“Hi, darling.”
“Hi, love.” You gave him a kiss. “I have something to tell you about.”
“What’s that?”
“My parents wrote to me, and said you’d be more than welcome to spend the holidays at my house. If you’d like. You don’t have to, of course,” you quickly added, “I’d understand if you’d prefer going to the Burrow-”
“Pretty girl, I’d love to meet your parents. Tell them I’m looking forward to it.”
“I will.”
And, so when school break started, you both used a chimney to go to your house. Your parents held you warmly, and it felt good to be home. They greeted Harry just as warmly, and even though he was a bit shy, it was obvious he was happy to be here.
“Merlin, you really do look very much like James,” your father told Harry as he stared at him.
“Dad!” you protested. “Harry is tired of hearing this.”
“You knew my father?” Harry frowned.
“Yes,” your father nodded. “James and I both were in the same year, in Gryffindor. And, I have to say, we were close friends.”
“And Lily was my best friend,” your mother added. “She was like a sister to me. y/f/n and I went to their wedding, and often visited him in Godric’s Hollow before the war. And we saw you several times as a baby, Harry.”
“We were devastated when we learned of their deaths,” your father continued. “And we always hoped you were alright, wherever you were.”
“And we’re so happy to see you again, and that you’re dating our y/n.”
You knew your parents were in the same year as Harry’s parents but you had no idea they were that close.
“I have a few photos from that time,” your father told Harry, “Would you like to see them, my boy?”
Harry nodded, “Yes, sir, I’d like to.”
Your father fetched the photo album while your mother made tea for everyone. You all sat on the sofa, and looked at the pictures as your parents shared some memories and the context of each of the pictures. You took several glances at Harry, and you knew how much it meant to him to see those pictures and to know more about his parents - and especially their years at Hogwarts. After the last picture was shown, Harry thanked your parents, and your father gave him some of the pictures.
The rest of the day was spent playing Quidditch with Harry in the garden, and he smiled for the first time since the beginning of school year. You then showed him your bedroom and had dinner with your parents, who asked about how you and Harry did at Hogwarts.
“Umbridge isn’t a good teacher,” you said. “But it’s fine otherwise.”
You turned to Harry, who remained silent. You had agreed to not tell your parents what that woman did to you in order to not worry them.
The rest of the school break was nothing but perfect. You absolutely loved being with Harry everyday - sometimes alone with him as your parents both worked -, being able to cuddle whenever you wanted, and to make things even more perfect, Harry got along really well with your parents, and seemed to really enjoy his stay. You were now cuddling in your bedroom, your head on his chest, both his arms wrapped around you and your injured hand on the side of his neck, its thumb stroking it tenderly. You turned your face to look at him, and caught him looking at the scar on your hand. After your detention with Umbridge, Harry had insisted on Hermione making a potion that would heal the wound faster and make the pain disappear every day until it was fully healed, and you knew that, even over a month later, he still felt guilty.
“I’m okay, Harry. I promise. Please, don’t feel guilty.”
There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” he said softly. “Not only for believing in me but also for never giving up on me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll always be by your side, Harry. No matter what happens, no matter who we’re facing. Because I don’t want to be anywhere else, and because I love you. Not because you’re the ‘Boy who Lived’, but because you’re kind, brave, loyal, loving, and funny.”
He had a soft laugh before looking at you in a way he had never done before.
“I love you too, y/n,” he whispered. “More than anything.”
He brought you closer, put one of his hands on your cheek, and lowered his head to kiss you.
*-*-*-*
Ten months later
“Harry, dear, what kind of cake would you like for your birthday?” your mother asked.
Both you and Harry were in the garden, with you sitting on the grass and his head on your lap. After the school year’s end, Harry had asked to come to your house instead of going back to the Dursleys. Dumbledore said Harry still needed to go there for a bit, as he was protected there, and then he could come to your parents’ house and spend the whole summer there - though both you and him visited the Burrow and stayed there several days. Harry’s birthday was tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait for him to see all the gifts you had for him.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. y/l/n,” Harry answered. “You don’t have to do anything, really.”
“It’s no trouble, dear”, your mother reassured, “y/n told me you liked chocolate, I could make a chocolate cake, if you want?”
“That would be perfect, thank you.”
“Of course, dear.”
“Excited for tomorrow?” you asked him while gently stroking his jet black hair.
“Not that I know there might be a chocolate cake, yes,” Harry answered.
You laughed and he had a smile.
“I’m very happy you’re here, Harry,” you said in a confessing tone.
He raised his head from your lap but kept his head close to yours.
“I’m happy to be there, too. And I’m very thankful to your parents for making me feel at home, and to you, for simply being you. You’re my home, y/n. I love you, and I always will.”
You lowered your head to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck.
