#... eventually

[notruevampire]

Fuck, this is the protagonist polycule of my published series

Unethical polyamory not in the sense that the partners aren't consenting to multiple relationships but in the sense that they kill people as a group

[albaskies]

hehe i loved your short hinny fic!! it was soo great!! ❤️❤️❤️ can you please write another hinny fic, maybe hbp and include lots of yearning from harry 🙈🙈 whether that yearning is satisfied is completely up to you!!

thank you so much, anon, that's very kind ❤️ i managed to scramble something up based on your prompt, and had lots of fun doing it. i couldn't make hbp work, so i hope you don't mind i went with early dh instead. i hope you enjoy some angsty yearning courtesy of our very own hj potter!

***

Don’t look at her.

Harry repeats those words to himself like a mantra as he absent-mindedly stacks different kinds of desserts on his plate. The air under the marquee has become thicker now that several guests have stood up to dance, and Harry has started to feel very uncomfortable in Barny Weasley’s sweatier-than-normal body.

He grunts at the dessert selection available on the buffet table, wondering what kind of boring wedding does not serve treacle tart. But then again, he has never been to a wedding before, so what does he know, really.

He walks away in search of somewhere to sit down, carefully trying to shut down his peripheral vision, his gaze dutifully fixed right in front of him. 

Don’t look at her.

Since after the ceremony, he has decided to avoid looking at the dance floor at all costs. He is convinced this is the safest way to keep his mind clear. without being distracted by stupid promises made to stupid best mates, or by the temptation to throttle big-headed Quidditch players - nobody in particular, of course.

He slouches in the first empty chair he finds, his eyes focused on his plate and the assortment of sweets he is never going to eat. He nervously starts drumming with his fingers on the table, while conversation and laughter bubble all around him.

He could take a look at the dancefloor, he reckons, just to check that Ron and Hermione have not started bickering. A quick peek won’t hurt anybody, right?

Do not. Look. At her.

Except that he cannot not look at her. He cannot help but make silly excuses to steal a glance at her every now and then; he cannot help but look for her in the colourful crowd. He cannot help but know exactly where she is under the marquee, even when he is talking to somebody else, when he is eating a bite, or when she is joining Luna in her extravagant dance.

Because Ginny is pure, burning light. He is drawn to her like a flower is drawn to the sun, and he does not know how to contain this dangerous feeling building up in his chest. It’s powerful, urgent, and it makes his heart ache like never before. 

Defeated by his own sorry arse, he looks up and quickly scans the room, trying to convince himself that he is actually checking on Ron and Hermione. He is not fooling anyone, really. 

It only takes him a split second to find her. Because this time she is not talking to somebody else, or eating a bite, or dancing with Luna. This time she is right there in front of him. No, she is actually walking towards him.

Oh bloody hell.

The room seems to blur around her, its noise and chaos fading to a hum as Harry helplessly watches her drawing closer and closer.

He wishes he had the strength to stop her, he really does. But there’s only so much that a man can do when the woman he loves is walking towards him surrounded by that golden aura of light, so painfully beautiful, so painfully real.

She sits in the empty chair right next to him. She doesn't say anything, and yet he understands everything. 

Silence has always been easy with Ginny. It has been easy for longer than he can remember. 

He really should have known, the miserable prat. He should have known that love is a quiet, secret language shared through the simplest of glances. Love is moving together without speaking and understanding each other in a way that no one else ever could. He should have known that clammy hands, fumbling conversations and awkward silences over hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s are an absolute pile of nothing compared to this.

And yet - he couldn’t have known, could he, that he would have found love in a hard, blazing gaze, in the sweet sound of laughter lingering in the air, in little elbows and butter dishes, in a gloriously setting sun. Maybe the realisation would not have struck him so hard, if he had. And maybe, with Ginny, he cannot have it in any other way.

He does not know for how long they remain sitting like that, a foot from each other, without uttering a single word. Their bodies are not remotely touching, and yet he feels engulfed by her, by her flowery scent, by her blazing and unwavering light. Their bodies are not even touching, and yet he feels her warmth everywhere on his body, under his skin, brushing his soul.

The other guests might think he looks like a miserable sod, stiffly glued to his chair just to be around her, just to drink her in for one more minute.

Or maybe they just think he is the weird cousin who creeps on younger girls at family functions. Whatever. He is not even sure he cares.

After all, she has not left yet. She is, too, sitting there on the edge of her chair, incapable of walking away. She stays, and that’s all that matters to him.

A sudden glint of yellow, and Harry notices Luna waving at Ginny from the crowd, calling her to the dance floor. 

They both sigh. The spell of silent and blissful oblivion around them is broken once again.

‘I think I’m going to join Luna,’ Ginny says quietly. 

He is so grateful, like a pathetic, smitten idiot, to hear her voice again. Even if what she says rips a hole through his heart.

When she finally does get up from her chair, it looks like she is wearing a weighted vest around her shoulders. He feels something breaking inside of him.

‘Oh.’ He chokes, clears his throat. ‘Yeah. Have fun.’

Her beautiful, sad eyes linger on him for a moment too long before she gives him a curt nod, and slowly walks away.

What a stupid thing to say, he tells himself. What a stupid, idiotic thing to say, when all he should have done instead was ask her, please stay. Please don’t go, please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to be away from you, I just can’t let you go. I’m sorry. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. I am so sorry.

A miserable man, he is. A miserable, miserable man who is about to go on a suicide mission but has to push away the only person who makes him feel truly invincible. 

Would it be so bad to dive into the crowd, grab her hand, hold her close to his chest, and drown in that blissful oblivion again? Would it be so bad to kiss her soft, burning red lips, traumatising all the guests and the Weasleys together, hearing someone try and remedy the scandal by explaining that Oh but he’s not really a cousin, you know, more of a distant relative.

Maybe he really should go in there, ask her to run away with him and be just the two of them forever, forget about Dumbledore’s instructions, sod all this Chosen One nonsense. Choose his own happiness, just this once.

But then a silver lynx brings the news that the Ministry’s fallen and chaos unravels. He later ends up wondering to himself if those stupid, idiotic words will be the last ones he will ever say to her.

[glyphalodon]

tf2 au thing

[lenle-g]

for @katblu42 based on this WIP:

Treading carefully in his bare feet and avoiding the squeaky floorboards, he made his way to the telescope set up by the small attic window.  He sat on Grandpa’s old trunk to look through the eye-piece and make the necessary adjustments.  Yes, there.  That was the spot, the right little patch of stars, but it would be clearer without the obstacle of the window pane. He told himself he was only opening the window so he could see more clearly through the telescope, but deep down he knew the stars would call him closer if he let them.  The slight squeal as he slid the window up and open had his heart pounding again and he waited with bated breath, listening for any sign of movement downstairs.  After a long few seconds he felt assured he was still alone and undiscovered, so he resumed his position on the trunk to re-check the view through the telescope.

<3

[gummidon]

Do you think they ever got food poisoning?

[thedaselcor]

Arthur woke to Merlin thrashing, convulsing through some sort of night terror. He held Merlin close, and tried to keep him from injuring himself through the spasms, but he was entirely uncertain whether that was even the right thing to do.

He noticed, as the minutes went on, that Merlin had been getting increasingly warmer. With growing terror he realized that Merlin was incredibly hot, burning up as if the dreams themselves were causing some sort of incredible magical fever. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he’d felt so powerless. It was a relief then, if a surprise, when Morgana knocked on their door and entered as soon as Arthur was able to stammer some sort of assent.

Morgana walked in, with a confidence and certainty of action Arthur couldn't remember ever seeing in her before. The room seemed to drop in temperature as she crossed in, and, in moments, she brought a hand to Merlin’s chest and one to his face. Arthur could feel the cold radiating off her. Merlin’s temperature crashed drastically as he woke with a start to the cold shock that rippled through from the point of Morgana's contact, and he breathed in sharp and deep like a man just saved from drowning.

“More like the pyre…” Morgana said, responding to the thought Arthur had never voiced.

Merlin panted as he assessed the situation, assessed the room around him, came back to reality, blue eyes betraying an equal measure of absolute understanding and complete bafflement that Arthur could only hope would be promptly explained

[strawberryshortcake1495]

WHO IS FORD HERE??? MAVERICK??? (actually that would be so fucking cool)

More Phantom Falls!

Stuff might change in this AU in the future but here’s what I have so farrrr

Prev part

[stupidvillainousposts]

Old-Man, Post-Weirdmageddon, Post-Stan-Mind-Wipe Fiddlestan but: Stan's Not Fiddleford’s Boyfriend!

Fidds: Hey there, Stanley! How's yer day goin'-

Stan, blushing heavily: I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!

----------------------

Fidds, holding flowers: Stanley! Guess what I-

Stan, hiding behind Ford: I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!

-----------------------

Stan: *Walks Past Fidds*

Fidds: *Sighs Happily*

Stan, in the distance: I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!

------------------------

Stan, at the farmer's market with Ford: Hmm... what am I in the mood for?

Ford, as a fishing line/hook lowers behind Stan: Fish????

Stan: No, more of a- *Gets Reeled Up Past the Stand and Up to Fidds* AGH! DEMON!

Fidds: Oh, Stanley! You're so silly!

Stanley: I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!

-------------------

Stan as he, Ford, and Fidds float towards a waterfall: Y'know, since we're about to die, I have to say something important. You're not really the two people I wanted to die with.

Ford: Ditto.

Fidds, to Stan: Actually, I imagined the two o' us bein' buried t'gether in a hidden tomb.

Stan: ...If we somehow make it out of this alive, you and me need to have a serious conversation.

--------------------

Stan, walking by Fidds: Oh, hey there Cowboy!

Fidds: *Gasps Gleefully* Stanley?! You never acknowledge me with such happiness!

Stan: I know! Normally I look at you with fear and reciprocation I don't want to acknowledge, but today I feel so different! I've discovered the secret to Constant Youth!

Fidds: ...

Also Fidds: You're such a silly goose, Stanley.

Ford, appearing out of nowhere: I'm a silly goose too!

[shhslayer]

Alright, we're closing in on the next episode of wild life, and I think I might live blog my reaction to Gem's pov this time around when it comes out

[theroxian]

remember that au i made like a week ago, no? well im following up on it anyway fuck you

[ratfreecog]

I will get to this I just got super depressed again sorry about that (it will happen again)

Mental health has been very bad lately so I haven’t been writing and to get back into it I’d really like to write some short fun newsies one shots. So if anyone has any requests (I will take mostly anything but know that Crutchie jack and Race are my guys ever and I mostly write about them) send them my way! I would like to write some little things

[mo-mode]

The Biblically Accurate Trio in TLT

[turtleofthehollow]

I need someone to write fanfiction of Lucifer and Alastor making a deal, but Luci botches the wording of the deal so bad that they end up married instead, and neither of them know how to break the deal, so they're just stuck like this until further notice

You can't tell me it wouldn't be in character for him!

UPDATE: It has been written! Check out the reblogs for the link!

[olrinarts]

1/?

FINALLY, AFTER WRESTLING WITH THIS FOR AGES

have the first 5 pages of 'Fittings', which is a... 'short' comic that won't leave my brain

i have a lot of headcanons about the significance of fibrecraft and clothing and such for sheep, considering the whole wool thing, and while i'm working on other projects that go more in depth with that, this is just a fun little thing i wanted to do

i cannot emphasise how much it pained me to draw ill-fitting clothing though 😭

[deep-space-lines]

P A I N T T H E W O R L D R E D

sketch im not sure if i’ll finish. im unwell about this game