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#lumo things
lumo-dreams · 6 months
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protectgeorgeweasley · 4 months
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No, I have not abandoned this. Writing with a demanding job is quite difficult, but I work on Lumos most days, even if just a little. <3
I love you all.
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dreadfutures · 2 months
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Loving LUMO: 2018 to Present :)
Just up in my feelings about my dog today. He's doing great! I love my dog! I just wanna talk about him. A lot. :) Like this is looooong.
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I got my dog at the end of my senior year of undergrad, after I knew I got into a PhD program. I knew I couldn't make it through alone so I wanted a dog.
When I was young, I wanted a wolf! I wanted big fluffy scary looking dogs. Then I wanted a pretty, fluffy, exotic dog. But as I grew older and actually MET dogs (I didn't have a lot of them in my life before), I realized that those weren't the dog breeds for me. I wanted a dog that fit my lifestyle, but also a dog that NEEDED a home, and love. And I wanted to make an impact, rescuing a breed that was often found in overflowing shelters in the US.
Why coonhounds? **mentions of animal abuse, skip to the next section
In California, shelters are primarily full of huskies, chihuahuas, german shepherds, and pitbulls. Since I didn't know where I was going to live or what the ordinances would be, I reluctantly decided I couldn't get a pitty. Many of the chihuahuas, huskues, and GSDs in shelters have serious health problems, probably coming from puppy mills and unethical breeding situations. I knew that any dog could develop an expensive health condition (foreshadowing) but I wanted to find a breed where that was less likely to happen.
I had read that the less "pretty" working dogs are usually better bred. They're smart, learn quickly, and (many hunting dogs) are content with long lazy seasons on the couch. I also learned that hunting dogs are abused and abandoned after hunting season, especially when people get "hunting breeds" and assume all the complex training of hunting is instinctive--it's not, it must be trained. But these "Defective"/"Failed" hunting dogs are let go to freeze and starve, and shelters can't take all of them. Someone called them the chihuahua of the south lol.
“It is sad when they treat these dogs as ‘tools’ they can throw away, instead of treating them like family members.”
Whether dumped or lost, these hunting dogs end up in local shelters, if they’re lucky. Many times they end up shot, hit by cars, or die of starvation or disease.
Believe me I read up on all the downsides of adopting a rescue vs. getting a purebred puppy from a breeder. I read up on all the downsides of hunting breeds. And even so I knew this was probably going to be a good fit.
I also found Maddie on instagram, who is a gorgeous redtick coonhound and possibly the most well-trained dog in the world. I was convinced and turned to a national Coonhound Rescue that takes coonhounds from the south and moves them across the country to be loved in places where they're not so common.
Finding Lu
I originally did want a female redtick that looked like Maddie, so I put in an application for one. The rescue called me and said they had another dog in mind for me and my lifestyle, "But he has a lot of skin! That means he drools A LOT."
His name was Dallas.
Dallas is a handsome 2 year old American English Coonhound being fostered in [city]. He enjoys the simple life and loves nothing more than a warm, comfy place to sleep. He is housetrained, cratetrained and leashtrained; also good in the car. He would do well in a home with slightly older children and would make an excellent companion. This boy wants a loving and consistent family or person to show him how great his life can be. He weighs about 55 lbs and also does well with cats and other dogs.
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This is the photo I was sent. :) I fell in love. This was going to be my dog! MY DOG. My first dog. Mine.
I was told he had been found on the streets, emaciated and sick, and that he had become an absolute counter surfer and couch potato in his foster home. And he could climb 10 ft fences if he saw a cat lol. They said he had "anxiety," but as I learned it was severe, severe PTSD from abuse.
I was originally going to name him Mo. For "Mopey." He had the saddest brown eyes and emo eyeliner, it seemed to fit. But "Mo" sounds a lot like "No!" and I soon realized they weren't kidding about hounds being independent and strong-willed. I still wanted "Mo" to be part of his name, but decided on LUMO as a chemistry reference since it was very relevant to my subfield I was going into. So he became "Lu."
The very first day I took him home, he had explosive diarrhea all over the car and there were no dog bathing places taking walk ins, so I had to haul his 35 pounds of skin and bones into the bath. Intense bonding experience to be sure.
He was so, so skinny. You can see in the photos how knobby his tail is, and how you can count his spine, and how all his ribs and his hips stick out. People would come up to me at restaurants and YELL at me "don't you FEED YOUR DOG?????? how can you be so cruel?" as if there wasn't a possibility that I was rescuing an emaciated and abused dog?
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I thought he was skinny because of his past on the streets, and I think that was part of it for sure. But what I learned was that he wasn't just having digestive issues because he was "adjusting to his kibble" -- he's actually allergic to chicken, and he was on a chicken diet.
He was losing a lot of weight from the diarrhea, and he was SO itchy, and he had constant infections in those big, soft ears. We did a lot of elimination to figure out his allergies and he's actually allergic to a lot of things, but chicken is by far the worst.
As soon as I switched him to salmon, he started gaining weight really well, shooting up to a healthy 50 pounds. He also stopped getting constant ear infections!
The trauma
So the thing about Lu is that he isn't just "anxious." Anxious doesn't describe him:
He was terrified of blond men with sunglasses. Like just wanted to melt into the ground and phase through walls levels of terrified. My best friend and room mate was a blond man who wore sunglasses all the time. Fortunately he had grown up on an Estate with a whole bunch of working dogs and was so good at helping me get him over his fear. He was afraid of strangers in general, but none as much as blond and bald guys.
He was GREAT on leash from the start! But randomly, he would just...stop. Freeze, plant his feet, stare glassy-eyed into the distance at nothing at all. Nothing in particular triggered it. Not sounds, not anything I could identify in common. Just sometimes...he'd just freeze and shut down. I had to carry him sometimes as far as a football field to get home. Often it was right in the middle of the street. :( After ten or so minutes of staring, he would come-to, and he would sit down and look around all disoriented.
Also I had been warned about how some dogs "pull" on leash. It turns out that most people are talking about pulling...ahead. And training a dog who pulls ahead is WAY different than a dog who tries to pull backwards. Lu was so skinny that he could slip out of his harness, no matter what size of his harness. I quickly learned there was no tying him off and going into restaurants by myself, because he could EASILY chew through any leash in a few seconds, and he could slip right out of his harness and just DIP. But even on walks, during his PTSD flashback moments, he could pull back so hard his arms would come up by his head and he'd just noodle out of his harness.
He was terrified of stairs. Going up and down. My bedroom was on the second floor. The beach was down a steep flight of stairs.
He had no idea how to play with other dogs at all.
He was scared of grass. It was as if he had never stepped on grass before and thought it was lava. I'm suspicious that he might have been trapped in a concrete outdoor dog run or kennel for most of his young life.
He had persistent UTIs... and he counter surfed and ate a whole stick of butter, and went into acute pancreatic failure.
He had some sort of paw trauma. it was impossible to touch his paws, let alone clip his nails. No matter how skinny and weak he was, it took more than 5 people to hold him down long enough to clip his nails. He was terrible at the groomers. Dremels weren't any betters.
Pretty early on I had to settle for "progress" over "perfect."
We took baby steps together. From May to August, he became so much more outgoing. He fell in love with my two tall blond sunglasses guy friends. He started learning to get excited about toys. And we developed a routine so he wouldn't destroy my room when I left him alone.
I had to respect that he definitely, 100%, always knew what I wanted him to do when I gave him commands. And when he refused and said "No," there was no food, no toy, no incentive I could give him to get him to do it. At least not that time.
When I first moved to grad school that September, I had a lot of people in my cohort come over to my apartment. Lu hid under my bed the whole time and wouldn't take any treats to coax him out. We lay a whole pack of turkey in front of him and he wouldn't come out. :(
But within a few months, he had a growing circle of human friends that he was comfortable with. And honestly even by October of that year, if a new stranger came to the apartment, all they had to do was get up on the couch and offer him a Merrick toothbrush treat and he'd be in their lap.
Here he is with his companion cube in early 2019. He loved that suede couch lol.
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Health issues :(
So because he ate a whole stick of butter and went into acute pancreatitis, we started monitoring his blood levels. They got better after treatment--but never back to "normal." They remained at the "hmm this looks like renal failure, Cirrhosis, or hepatopathy" levels, which was weird, because he was constantly getting happier and acting healthier every day!!
Eventually a vet suggested we see an internal medicine specialist. Turns out.... Lu's liver is like. Tiny. Like puppy sized. He has had this disease since he was a baby, which is why he's never known he was sick lol.
After about 9k of imaging and stains and biopsies, we learned:
He has copper hepatopathy, which today my new vet's jaw dropped as a like "WOW we HEARD about this in vet school but I've NEVER actually seen it! It's so rare!"
His liver is tiny, full of fibrosis, cirrhotic, tons of remodeling (in the bad way). His liver is ORANGE from how much copper is in it. The damage is completely irreversible. I have a copy of the biopsy & lab results and I can just imagine the scientist at the research institute they sent the samples off to, their voice as they wrote this report. It screams "HOW IS THIS DOG ALIVE?"
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I just find it so funny, as another analytical scientist.
The other funny thing is that they prescribed him chelation therapy to help him get better (it didn't help and he doesn't get worse without it, so we have since stopped that; it was expensive). My PhD thesis is in metal chelation lolololol of Ni, Co, Cu. lololol
So that was an expensive process. He has to have a prescription low-copper diet, which has stopped most of his symptoms of this disease, and we have to do expensive blood tests to make sure he doesn't get worse.
And then he became a sock eater.
He passed the first few. Then he got sick. With the vet's help, he was able to pass it without surgery. And then the next time, it was life or death.
The vet I went to was so unethical and immoral but it was my only fucking option. I wouldn't have my dog here if my best friend at the time hadn't been wealthy enough to give me the 13k I needed on the spot, in cash, to save my dog's life with surgery.
In the hospital, the fucking awful vets:
claimed to use dissolving stitches. I don't think they did; I still feel them! 4 years later!!!
let him get a skin infection all over his body that made his paws swell up and bleed, and his paw pads fall off and bleed. It was terrifying. And cost me more money of course. It was so evil. He still has scarring all over his legs from it where fur hasn't grown back :(
He has bad teeth but according to the vet "not the worst! :)"
He expresses his glands in his sleep sometimes. UGHHHH they don't tell you that about dogs lol.
He still is terrible for claws. It's been worse and worse lately, to the point where I worry about how long his nails are and whether it will be bad for his joints. But it's the only thing he's really ever been aggressive for. :( I really worry about him. I have trained him to scratch a board of sandpaper to file them down, but they get sharp that way too lol.
Progress, not perfect. He lets me give him paw massages and check his nails and manhandle him, but just. Not clippers or dremel. :( Not there yet.
Anyway, he has been super healthy for many years now. He's got lumps and bumps and skin tags. The vet thinks he's about 9 years old, and definitely a senior. ;_; <3
Things I Love about LUMO
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His ears are, I'm not kidding, the softest material in the world. And so warm. He loves it when I stick my finger in his ear and tickle his brain. He loves an armpit scratch. His tail used to be like, stuck, in such a sad position and I never thought he'd wag his tail and now it waves high all the time.
They told me he would probably never be a dog who plays. But when I got him, within a few weeks, I found the puppy inside of him. He runs like a silly rocking horse, completely uncoordinated and flopsy. He'll do fetch. He loves surgically disemboweling stuffed animals. He throws around his XTREME CHEW PLASTIC ANTLER and plays fetch with it with me.
He has several "spots" where I can get his leg thumping when I scratch him. He loves to be wrapped up in a burrito of blankets and sit in a sunbeam.
He leans on me and looks up at me with those big brown eyes and there's no fear or sadness in them anymore it's just sweetness and silliness.
He is so smart. He's attended a bunch of PhD level classes, and he's developed his own language. He's so smart. He knows how to tell me what he wants, he knows the rules and knows how to push them right up to the limit. He loves his sweaters. He will tell me what he wants by tapping on things with his paw. He knows that if I hold out my left hand it's to hold his paw and do a shake. If I hold out my right hand it means wait. He knows that the camera I have can see him and he'll knock it over so he can do mischief.
He loves his velvet chaise lounge. He loves his memory foam ultrasoft velvet bed. He loves his goose down comforter. He loves to sit on my pillow and fart. He basks in sunbeams and curls up in a tiny tiny little ball and he shrimps and sucks on his toes. He's basically a cat. He doesn't really want to go on walks, he pulls me back inside as soon as he's done his business. Except for when we have company--he loves walking with a pack of people.
When he talks to me, like just having a conversation, he sounds like a seal. Like a tortured seal. Or like a crying baby. He's never really figured out how to be a dog or sound like a real dog but we understand each other that's what matters.
He absolutely takes advantage of this to complain when I am not giving him what he wants. He'll roll over on the ground like a drama queen and wail and cry like I'm abusing him and it's because I'm across the room holding a pork chop that's just for me.
Today in the car he was WAILING like a seal, which usually means "LET ME OUT I NEED TO POOP" but after 3 or 4 tries to walk him, he made it clear that what he ACTUALLY meant was "PEDAL TO THE METAL GIRLS LET'S GO WHY AREN'T WE MOVING WHY IS THERE NO WIND ON MY FACE OR FLAPPING IN MY EARS MOOOOOOOOOVE."
For a while he was 69 pounds (NICE) but he's back to 64 lol. He stays between 63-70 pretty much depending on how active he is.
Anyway I have been reminiscing a lot because I figured it was time to add him to the "happy endings" page on the rescue website and I was going down memory lane.
Looking at the photo I took on the day I brought him home, and a photo I took last month, you can see his white face is spreading.
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The defined white bit on his nose that whispers between his eyes has now spread to both his eyebrows, and his cheeks are getting quite white. But his eyes are bright and his ears are perked up and he is safe and warm and loved and stinky and soft. He gets fresh treats all the time (he loooooves celery, and pears, and sometimes carrots and sweet potatoes. and tortilla chips. and salmon oil.). He loves his prescription kibble and our routine. He has lovely friends and lovely car rides and he is just the best dog I could have asked for in my life when I got him and every day.
I've had to be so patient and calm and kind even when I was scared and angry, with his stress and his ptsd and his destructiveness and messiness. All he deserves and needs is love and he knows what's wrong and what isn't, sometimes he just can't help himself, and we move on together. He made sure I had a reason to come home and not sleep in lab during my PhD. He made sure I had a reason to get out of bed during my PhD.
And now we're just living our best lives together. :)
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ominis · 1 year
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Can we talk about how awesomely written Ominis's blindnesses is? The fact he uses his wand to guide himself around and isn't seen as stupid and is capable of taking care of his friends and himself.
Yes, I love it so much! It's not the focus of his character at all. It's just one part of him. It has little to do with his storyline, which I honestly adore because it's awesome to have a character with a disability whose motivations and interactions don't revolve around that disability. It's never hidden or disregarded, but it's never the center of who he is either. There's so, so, so much more to him than that. And it's not something that's tragic or ever portrayed as a negative thing. It doesn't hinder him. He can hold his own in a fight easily and he isn't treated differently by anyone. But it also isn't shown to be a strength either. It simply is what it is which I love. And I like that Ominis appears to be very neutral about it. It makes sense. He was born that way. He's never known anything different, so to him, it's just normal and he treats it as such.
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ask-elland-n-will · 1 month
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Just another day of helping my Potions Professor check the written assignments. He really should think of changing where he sits at this table. How can he see what he's writing when he casts such a shadow! Windows exist for a reason! Alright, alright. How do I bring it up softly, without it sounding like I'm telling him what to do? I have to plant the idea in his head...
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Idk I just feel like posting these cute screenshots that I had originally put on Reddit :)
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Wtf man. Just saw this on instagram and have a few things to say about it:
1. Luis was confirmed to be bisexual right??? Just so we're on the same page here. That (for him) includes loving women (remember Miro?). By implying that he's a "real" part of the lgbtq+ community only when he's in a romantic or sexual relationship with a man, you're actively feeding into the homophobic and misogynistic rhetoric that bisexual people need to "prove" their queerness to be accepted into the community, and that being in a relationship with a woman somehow makes a bi man "less gay"/"more straight".
2. You "only want to see LuMo"? So you're saying, Luis' and Moritz' stories are only valuable to you as long as they're in a monogamous relationship together?? I want to remind you that you're watching a soap opera, a genre infamous for having love triangles and unstable relationships at all times to make the show more interesting at any point. If you want to have a m/m storyline with a stable relationship, you're quite frankly watching the wrong genre.
I'm not saying that you can't or shouldn't be mad at how the show is handling Luis' and Moritz' storyline right now, but man. Take it easy. It's not the end of the world. It's a daily soap. They'll probably get together again anyway. The writers are just putting in some tension right now bc Luis and Moritz had no actual struggles for almost a year since that whole thing with Miro. Naturally, they had to do something to cause major conflict between them. Did they do it in the most unproblematic and well-thought-out way ever? No, definitely not. But that, as well, is not the point of a soap opera.
Know what genre you're watching.
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quasieli · 1 year
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[ID copied from alt text: A digital bust drawing of Lumo (they/them), a NPC from my D&D campaign, set against a purple background with gray floral scroll patterned across it. Lumo is a young, thin, dark gray tiefling with short black hair with white bangs, gold eyes with no pupils, a pair of small curved horns, and white, faintly glowing, starry freckles on their cheeks. They are wearing a black jacket, the neckline low enough to partially reveal a star-burst shaped scar on their chest. They are in three quarters profile, facing to the viewer's left, but looking off to the right with a soft smile on their face. End description.]
Just been tumbling this blorbo round and round in my head lately so I had to draw about it!
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jonny-versace · 1 year
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finally getting caught up on Luis x Moritz and I'm fully convinced GZSZ isn't a soap but a sitcom
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subtlefires · 5 months
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very tempted to narratively explore food in new haven...
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glyphcaster · 2 years
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@nxtleftbehxnd​
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“Sooo, Fawn...” Lumos leaned forward on the bed, conspiratorial glance on her face. “Got any... romantic stories to tell? Silly or otherwise?”
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lumo-dreams · 8 months
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Luis & Moritz are both dreaming about each other 💕
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Editing mid-day update: 16/199
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bellamos · 1 year
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a conversation between lumos and her friend.
Lumos: “Are you certain?”
Friend: “I’m pretty certain.”
Lumos: “Hi Pretty Certain, I’m Lumos.”
Friend: “You think I’m pretty?🥹”
Lumos: *loses shit* “NO THATS NOT WHAT I SAID”
now shes crying about it lolol
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wedonthaveawhile · 5 months
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When she says my name.
Garreth Weasley x F!MC (18+)
Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, possesive!Garreth, dominant!Garrreth, public sex, dirty talk, aged-up characters, unrequited love, pining.
AO3 // Word count: 3k
Garreth picked at the splintered wood on his broom from a recent tussle with a bludger, scanning the courtyard intermittently for any trace of his Quidditch team. Their head of house had recently delivered a stern criticism about their hero complex. Apparently, each member was too focused on personal glory, neglecting the importance of working as a cohesive team.
He eventually detected a figure on a broom, although quickly realised they displayed a level of nimble grace far beyond what he'd expect from one of his lumbering teammates. Hogwarts' resident hero was evidently making a return from one of her mysterious outings.
His eyes swept the courtyard again, a scattering of students strolled across the well-kempt grass, a handful basked in the sun near the fountain, but none he recognised. Thinking about it, Garreth wondered whether he should hang around for this team-building training. It was probably wise, considering he was not only the captain but also the one who had organised the whole thing. However, they were running late, and he had spotted far more appealing company.
Before he could put much more thought into it, he swung his leg over his broomstick and began to silently trail the unsuspecting witch.
He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started noticing her disappearances. He assumed he just hadn't been paying much attention to her whereabouts prior to her inquiry regarding his more 'unobtainable' potions. His tactics hadn't evolved significantly since fifth-year when he’d charmed the newcomer into pilfering Sharp's office for supplies, but he had become far more adept at sneaking around for rare ingredients.
He agreed to assist in whatever scheme she was cooking up, on the condition she helped him obtain the key component. Partly for the benefits of having someone on the lookout for wandering faculty, but mostly because the beloved heroine of Hogwarts could do no wrong. If their covert operation were to be exposed, her involvement would mean the detention time his aunt dished out would be significantly reduced.
They needed snakeweed, which he was fairly certain was cultivated and harvested in the greenhouse. However, Professor Garlick was extremely protective of her plants, requiring their thieving to be done after curfew.
Moonlight wiggled through the twisted tendrils of the countless plants scattered throughout the greenhouse as they dispelled their disillusionment charm and got to work.
"What do you reckon all of this is?" The witch gestured towards a dense blanket covering the harvesting bench, a few neatly folded sheets at one end made it appear like some kind of makeshift bed.
"Perhaps the rumours about Garlick and Kogawa are true. Maybe we've stumbled upon their secret little sex den.” Garreth turned around and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a venomous tentacula lurking in the shadows.
She pulled back the cover, unveiling a project in progress—mallowsweet leaves neatly laid out, drying between the two blankets.
"You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she scoffed, laying the covering back over the golden foliage. “Or you need to get laid.”
"It was a logical assumption," he argued, crouching beneath a table, casting a dim lumos across a collection of small plant pots. "The height of these tables are just right for it."
"Should I ask how you know that?"
She lifted herself onto the table as if testing the height for herself. Garreth smirked as he shifted the pots around with flicks of his wand.
"I’m a warm-blooded male, I'd say I'm an expert in these things."
Spotting a small propagation of snakeweed, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping a watchful eye on the door. She wasn't. She was perched primly on the edge of the table, legs pressed together from knees to toes.
His eyes roamed across her body, and he realised he had never really had the opportunity to thoroughly check her out. She was like forbidden fruit, always flanked by her two Slytherin gatekeepers. It's not that he hadn't noticed she was attractive, she certainly was. Her feminine figure hinted at subtle signs of muscle earned from days spent sprinting around the castle.
His lusty gaze travelled up to her face, only to discover she had been watching him the entire time. Suppressing the flicker of embarrassment, he instead leaned into his Gryffindor bravery. He grabbed the small pot and approached her, his hips meeting her knees with an intentional bump.
"As promised," he presented her with the delicate plant, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it over.
"That was easy," she raised the pot to catch the moonlight. Her eyes shifted from the plant to him, and her pupils bloomed. "You've earned yourself a returning customer."
"Splendid," he grinned, wondering whether this meant more after-hour hangouts, a thought that kindled his overactive imagination. "The first one's on the house, the rest might come with a price tag."
“I suppose I’ll have to start saving then. What's your price?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to make demands beyond your means,” he backtracked, worried she might think he was being serious. “Wouldn’t want to scare off my favourite customer.”
"Snagged the title of the favourite customer without parting with a single penny?” She chuckled lightly, scraping her teeth across her lower lip, “Business must be crawling."
"I prioritise quality over quantity," his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face, purposefully lingering a beat too long on her lips before flitting back to her eyes. "Now, what assets do you bring to the trading table?"
"Let me think," she reclined on her palms. "What do I bring to this specific table..." she emphasised each word with a tap of her nails against the wood, "that a warm-blooded male might find tempting?"
Heat surged through his body, and he began to regret pressing himself up against her legs, there was no way she couldn’t feel his enthusiasm swell against her knees.
“Did I mention it’s one for the price of two?”
She laughed, the sugar-sweet sound tickling his brain and the movement of her body causing her legs to part slightly.
“See, what did I tell you?" he pushed his palms against the table on either side of her thighs as he slotted himself between them. "Perfect height."
"I took your word for it. After all, you're the expert." She gave his tie a tug before running the fabric through her fingers. “Well, so you say...”
"Correct," he answered simply, because the only other words rattling around in his head was an offer to sit on his face, and he was trying really hard to play it cool.
She cocked her head to the side, “Are you going to verify that claim?”
You would have thought they were time-fated lovers, not classroom acquaintances. She had been right. He needed to get laid, and she needed some stress relief. It didn't take long before her skirt was hiked up around her waist and he was showcasing just how perfect the height of the table was. He assured her the greenhouse was soundproof due to the mandrakes, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Frankly, he didn't care. Her unrestrained moaning, nails scraping across the wooden table, heels digging into his back to pull him in deeper—it made a lifetime of detention feel like a minor nuisance.
The saying goes, once is a mistake and twice is a habit, but Garreth wondered when it tipped into addiction. Whenever she was stressed—and fortunately for him, that was often—he found himself happily yanked by his tie into the nearest broom cupboard, beneath the Quidditch stands before one of his matches, by the edge of the lake under a disillusionment charm...
Maybe this time, on the balcony of the highest tower?
That's where she gracefully dismounted her broom. He followed suit, touching down behind her without a sound. Her jumper was splattered with mud down one arm, but for the most part, she was reasonably unscathed which was a rarity. She tugged it over her head to clean it with a quick charm, and he realised the stain bore a suspicious resemblance to a troll's handprint.
He knew she could handle herself, she’d been doing so for almost two years without his observations. Nevertheless, he realised he’d begun to worry about her when she was away.
He cleared his throat.
She whirled around with startled eyes and he muffled her gasp with a kiss. She squirmed for a few seconds, but her resistance crumbled as his thumbs glided up her neck, tracing delicate patterns under her ears.
He wasn't certain if she was doing the pulling or if he was doing the pushing, but somehow her back ended up crashing against the wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as his lips tore from hers and latched onto the sensitive skin of her throat.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she landed a weak thump on his bicep.
"You look like you lost a fight with a swamp," he mumbled against her skin, his hands wandering down to her hips.
"I'll have you know, I beat that swamp fair and square."
A ghost of a laugh dispersed across her neck, "I like the thought of watching you mud-wrestle. Let me come with you next time."
“Or you could come in me now?”
It was an obvious deflection tactic, but he gladly took the bait. His kisses grew forceful as he began to nip at her exposed skin.
“You better not be leaving marks, Weasley.”
He grumbled in protest against the light pink blotch he had begun to work into her throat. Something in the primal recesses of his mind itched to brand her. He wanted his lips stained on her skin, regardless of wherever or whoever she was with when she was gone.
"What if they're out of sight?" His fingers danced against her neck as he worked on undoing her tie, it fluttered to the ground before he finished asking for permission.
She withdrew her wand and uttered the incantation for a protective charm to shield their misdeeds from any potential spectators. He took that as consent, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.
"Where have you been?" he probed before his teeth dug into the plump flesh above her breasts. It had been nearly nine days since their last encounter, easily their longest dry spell in the two months since their greenhouse tryst.
"None of your business," She hooked her fingers into his trousers to pull him closer, trying to find some friction.
"I want it to be.”
"Tough shit, Weasley,” her voice faltered as he hiked her skirt up around her waist.
“Garreth,” he reprimanded.
She only called him by his first name when they were fucking. He was certain she’d been deliberately conditioning him with it. If he teased her too vigorously in class all she had to do was say, "Shut it, Garreth," and he'd have to discreetly conceal his excitement for the next ten minutes. She made him dumb, plain and simple.
"You'll have to earn that," she purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.
He scooped her up, spinning her around until she perched on the balcony's banister. A yelp escaped her as she teetered on the concrete edge, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.
“I want to feel this tomorrow,” she popped open his buttons to speed up the process, “Please?"
“I've got you," he assured, feeling her pulse thunder against his chest as he positioned himself between her thighs. One hand supported her back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.
It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before she came along. The way she demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning. "Say please again," he whispered, nipping her lower lip as he moved her soaked underwear to the side and positioned himself at her entrance. "I like it when you ask nicely."
"Pretty please?" she simpered before kissing him, her tongue eagerly seeking his.
He swallowed her moan as he pushed himself into her, she felt better than he remembered. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave her everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she whined against his mouth, her head tilting back as her eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, her own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.
He pulled her close by the small of her back with one arm, maintaining his grip on her neck with the other, aligning her to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, she bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as he bottomed out.
So, it was fine when she left a mark. He'd certainly remember that.
“You feel so fucking good, Garreth-”
A fractured cry fell from her lips as he pounded into her because his name had floated off her tongue like a prayer, causing something inside him to shatter, like it always did. Defining the constantly shifting dynamic between them was impossible, but it was addicting - He always found himself craving a little more than what he was getting.
“Who do you belong to?”
Garreth threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head up to look him in the eyes. She regarded him with a dizzy stare but remained silent. He began to slow down, and she instinctively bucked her hips to maintain some friction as her building orgasm began to ebb away.
“I said, who do you belong to?”
She wasn't his, they were both aware of that. This was never more than a matter of convenient timing and a means of stress relief. Nonetheless, he took pleasure in the hold he had over the most formidable witch of their generation. The witch with unwavering principles and determination. The witch who never faltered in her beliefs. The witch who was currently lying through her teeth for the pleasure of coming undone on his cock.
“You,” she whimpered, “Please, Garreth. Don’t stop, please.”
He didn't know if it was the way she was begging or the frantic desperation of her hips grinding against his, but he was teetering on the edge of his breaking point. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold himself together long enough for her to reach the finish line.
"Chin up," he demanded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he reached one hand between them, rubbing a lopsided circle around her clit. “You look at me when you come."
He groaned through clenched teeth as his words caused her to instantly tighten around him, and that beautiful, hazy look fell over her face. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him so hard it carved itself onto his brain and he released nine days of pent-up desire. He rolled his hips against hers as they both rode it out, briefly forgetting he should be gentle considering she was perched on the edge of a several hundred-foot drop.
He had believed there was nothing better than watching her unravel in his arms before seeking his own release, but he was wrong. Feeling her orgasm spasming over his shaft as he filled her up damn near killed him.
He fastened his trousers and helped her down from the stone balustrade. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to hide the fact that she was wobbling. He hoped his performance had met her expectations and he’d still be making her legs tremble tomorrow.
He peppered kisses across the blemishes he'd left on her breasts as he fastened the buttons of her shirt, trailing up to nip at the delicate spot on her neck just beneath her ear, the spot only he knew about, the spot that made her head tilt back and her vision fill with stars. He whispered an "Accio" against her skin, summoning a tie from the ground. He secured it around her throat with a playful tug before pulling her jumper over her head.
“You have to go?” he murmured between kisses, finding it bothered him less when he asked rather than when she told him.
Her chest heaved as she sighed, planting a lingering kiss on his lips before bending down to gather her things. “I have a study group. You’re welcome to join?”
He gave her a foggy smile and shook his head lightly. “I have some Quidditch thing I’m late for.”
“Alright, well…” She cast a fleeting glance at her abandoned broom on the floor. They hadn’t quite mastered the art of goodbyes yet. “Later, Weasley.”
“See you later,” he offered her a half-hearted wave, hoping she wouldn't make him wait another nine days before flying into his line of sight again.
As he watched her leave, he found himself wondering what impulse had led him to fasten his Gryffindor tie around her neck. There was the undeniable hope her irritation at his bold act would result in some passionate hate sex, but it ran deeper than that. It felt territorial. He’d been growing increasingly irritated with Sallow's lecherous stare and Gaunt's persistent attempts to cater to her every whim. They seemed to believe they held a Slytherin monopoly on her affections, all due to some unspoken event that happened over two years ago. Garreth understood her on a deeper level. She wanted someone who wouldn't procrastinate for two years, someone capable of making her scream on a greenhouse bench at two in the morning. He had a claim too, a far more substantial one.
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cassiopeiasdaughter · 7 months
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I got my period today and am dying of cramps can I get some Theodore nott fluff or Mattheo?
"You're in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing”
It was late at night and the school was empty, well apart from the students who stayed to celebrate Christmas here.
Your sleep schedule has been messed up pretty badly, leaving you awake until three in the morning, because of the books you want to catch up on, now that you still can and your friends who are constantly nagging you to get out of your room; come play truth dare with us, or whatever game they are playing the exact moment you slip inside your bed with your book in your hands. You love them, though, and you always join them.
Anyways, it is almost midnight now and you are craving something sweet, chocolate pudding or the delicious sponge cake, your grandmother used to make you when you were younger. You will have to settle for cauldron cakes or pumpkin pasties. 
You quietly head down to the kitchen, way past your curfew, but it is Christmas so really, even if they catch you how bad could it be?
As you enter the pitch black room, you walk inside and prepare your wand to cast a Lumos , but you fall into something or someone, you realize, as you hear pained groans. You fall head first into a bag of flour and you cough before you grab your wand to light up the space, for good this time.
As you turn your head you are met with the face of the infamous Theodore Nott, with an expression of guilt and regret on his face. Well, along with chocolate on the corners of his mouth and the flour the spread across the room on his hair.
You both ask at the same time “Are you okay?” , and laugh at your voices together
“So, why are you here?”, you asked him standing up, and lending him a hand to help him
“I could ask you the same thing.”, he replied dusting off his clothes 
“I was craving something sweet...but it appears you just ate it.”, you said sighing and tired as you looked at the empty plate on the table, with crumbs all over.
“Uh- there was only one left, when I came in, if that…helps?”
“It doesn’t, but it's fine. I’ll just make something.”
You moved around the table and grabbed anything you could find; dark chocolate, heavy cream, sugar, and strawberries. “It might just be my lucky day.” You told him holding everything up “Chocolate mousse with strawberries.” , said giving him a toothy grin and receiving a growl from his stomach that made you both laugh.
“Come on, you’ll whip the cream and I’ll melt the chocolate.”
“Whip? The cream? Uh-?”, he asked confused 
“Here.” Use this, you said handing him the whipper, but you noticed he couldn’t figure out how to properly hold it “Good Godric, of course, I forgot you grew up with House Elves.”
You walked up to him and wrapped your hand around his while holding the whipper, showing him exactly how to use it, “Just like that. Keep doing this until it’s thick, then I’ll take over.”
He swallowed loudly and nodded, his cheeks now bright pink and you couldn’t help but laugh at that.
You taunted him while you baked together, and he kept blushing, rolling his eyes, laughing, or all of the above at the same time. You had never seen him look so- so cute. Theodore Nott, cute; you laughed at yourself and at that thought. 
“What?”, he asked as he ate a strawberry
“Nothing, it’s just, the way you look now, it’s different than what I’m used to. That’s all.” , you explained
“No, you have to explain yourself now. I am worried- how do I look now? And how do I normally look?”, he joked and you shook your head a him
“Shut up, forget it.”
He crossed his arms in front of him and tilted his head; you aren’t getting out of this, his face said
“You look cute now, normally you don’t. Satisfied?”
“You think I am cute.” He smiled and you laughed at how ridiculous he made his voice sound
“Oh shut up.” ,you said and turned around to check on the dessert; when an idea came to your mind. You grabbed the spoon that was inside the bowl with the chocolate mousse that needed a few more minuted to cool down and you hurled some straight to his face.
He was dumbfounded as his whole face was coated with chocolate and you laughed at him.
“Well, now I would call you sweet, not cute.” You teased him and he cleaned his eyes before saying “You’ll pay for this.” Chasing you around the kitchen
You both ran laughing and screaming, around a little table when you slipped somewhere and fell down, with Theo then, on top of you.
You both laughed as you looked at eachother and you reached your hand up to Theo’s face, stealing his breath. You took a swipe from the dessert you’d made and licked it- to taste it. 
“It’s really good, you should try some.”, you said and felt drops of chocolate fall from his face down to yours, and especially your lips.
He leaned down then, and kissed you deeply, closing his eyes, before pulling back and saying. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” ,with a smirk
The only acceptable answer to that of course was for you to pull him back down and let him snog you, until the Elves find you- or the teachers. Then again, maybe you don’t have to stop at all.
A/N:I hope you feel well soon! Also, I didn't proofread this, so excuse the mistakes ❤️
Theodore Nott masterlist & celebrate my academic hardships
ALSO: for proper Theo fluff check out Butterfly Love by @talesofadragon !!!
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