#Hinkypunk

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

I went to B&Q today and look what I found amongst the extremely bizarre paint names:

guess someone there is a joker out fan 🥰🥰🥰

[avielex]

Whew. Wild year.

I think my improvement this year around is more subtle than most of my other years, but I'm fine with that! I'm just happy with how many bangers came out of this one :]

Art notes:

- Softer colour transitions helped by adding gradients atop the base colour (i called it the "ambient gradient" but I'm not sure if there's a technical principle it's rooted into)

- TEXTURED!! STROKES!! AND FILLS!!! (CSP layer properties + flat watercolour brush, you two are the MVPs)

- Bolder colours after getting more used to saturated colour picks (my eyes are finally getting less useless about them hehehe)

- But now the perspectives and compositions are getting too locked down to certain arrangements. There's only one dynamically angled artwork in this showcase — let's push the limits again next time!

[quidcrusheu]

Gaia's energy is my favourite thing to watch <3

.

[sunnami]

the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year. 

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.” 

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!” 

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.” 

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.” 

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously. 

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.” 

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.” 

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?” 

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?” 

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!” 

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.” 

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.” 

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.” 

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.” 

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards. 

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.” 

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.” 

Harry’s shoulders slump. 

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.

[jadeshifting]

— A STUDENT’S GUIDE TO HOGWARTS CLASSES

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

FOR EVERY CLASS . always sit where you can see (or avoid) the professor’s mood swings. bring a spare quill, and for Merlin’s sake, read all instructions on the board

★⋆. ASTRONOMY

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR SINESTRA . she’s chill if you stay quiet. don’t interrupt her passionate stargazing rants, or she’ll assign extra homework on constellations literally no one’s ever heard of

HOMEWORK . star charts and essays on planetary motion. tedious but straightforward—accuracy is everything.

TIPS TO EXCEL . memorize constellations and learn how to cast Lumos just dim enough so that you don’t blind everyone during late-night pitch black lessons

EXTRA CREDIT . spot and track a rare celestial event, like a comet. (bonus points if you can pronounce its Latin name to Sinestra without choking)

AVOID MISHAPS . never mix up Mars and Mercury on your chart—you’ll be doomed in astronomy and divination

★⋆. CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR HAGRID . show genuine interest in his creatures, even if they look like they could eat you (because they definitely could)

HOMEWORK . research magical creature habits and write about their care. watch out—he loves long essays (he can basically make students write books about his favorite subject for him)

TIPS TO EXCEL . always wear dragonhide gloves and boots that cover your ankles. treat the creatures and Hagrid with respect—he’ll notice

EXTRA CREDIT . help feed or clean up after the creatures during your free periods or after class. it’s messy, but he appreciates it immeasurably

AVOID MISHAPS . never, ever call a Blast-Ended Skrewt “gross” within his earshot

★⋆. CHARMS

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR FLITWICK . he’s sweet but sharp. pay attention, or you’ll be called on mid-yawn to demonstrate something tricky.

HOMEWORK . practice spells at home. if your wandwork looks like you’re conducting a dance recital, you’re doing it wrong.

TIPS TO EXCEL . focus on precise wand movements and pronunciation—no “swish and flick” means no charm

EXTRA CREDIT . perform an original charm in class and explain how you invented it (hint: slap a name on something flashy, and ramble about how Flitwick’s class gave you the “tools to do it”)

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t use charms on your classmates (no matter how obnoxious they are) unless you want detention for “unsanctioned spellcasting”

★⋆. DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS

DEALING WITH THE PROFESSOR . varies wildly year to year. if they’re twitchy, don’t ask questions. if they’re confident, challenge them slightly—they love it

HOMEWORK . spell practice, theoretical essays on defensive strategies, and (sometimes) practical exams.

TIPS TO EXCEL . master shield charms early—Protego is your bread and butter. always watch your back in “surprise” practical tests (the surprise could be a curse aimed at your back)

EXTRA CREDIT . propose new defense tactics for obscure threats like Lethifolds or hinkypunks, it shows interest in the less ‘cool’ aspects of the dark arts

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t hex yourself in class while demonstrating a jinx. you won’t get in trouble. but it’s embarrassing.

★⋆. DIVINATION

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR TRELAWNEY . just nod and act fascinated. she’s happier when you look like you believe her

HOMEWORK . dream journals, tea-leaf sketches, and guesses at what the stars are “telling” you.

TIPS TO EXCEL . make up dramatic predictions that sound poetic. extra marks for impending doom towards a classmate

EXTRA CREDIT . spot a “true vision” (or just pretend you did). a fainting act doesn’t hurt

AVOID MISHAPS . never laugh at her predictions, even if they sound ridiculous—she’ll doom you for life (and you never know what fate holds)

★⋆. HERBOLOGY

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR SPROUT . show some love for plants, and she’ll adore you. don’t sass her or underestimate how dangerous some herbs are

HOMEWORK . care guides for magical plants, essays on uses for their parts, and detailed sketches

TIPS TO EXCEL . be gentle with the plants, even the ones with attitudes. also, if you’re prone to daydreaming, please keep a note of which vines bite

EXTRA CREDIT . cultivate a rare magical plant and present its uses in class (good luck)

AVOID MISHAPS . always wear gloves when handling anything spiky, slimy, or screaming

★⋆. HISTORY OF MAGIC

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR BINS . he doesn’t even care if you’re awake, but it helps if you look like you’re taking notes

HOMEWORK . endless essays on goblin rebellions, giant wars, and other events you’ll most definitely forget by next term

TIPS TO EXCEL . use mnemonic devices to remember key dates. start essays early—he grades on length

EXTRA CREDIT . find obscure historical details to add to essays. mentioning “primary sources” makes you look smart, and Binns doesn’t typically look into it further

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t doodle in your notes too obviously—he might drone on even more if he catches you

★⋆. POTIONS

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR SNAPE . know your ingredients and don’t speak unless spoken to. follow his instructions perfectly and try to look invisible. or he’ll eviscerate you

HOMEWORK . brewing practice and essays on potion theory. if you mess up the potion, he’ll expect twice the length in your essay

TIPS TO EXCEL . re-chop your ingredients before class, and try to do other prep work. Snape hates inefficiency

EXTRA CREDIT . create a new potion under his supervision. (warning: he will make you test it.)

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t ever blame Snape or his instructions if something explodes. just accept it and clean up quietly

★⋆. TRANSFIGURATION

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL . she’s strict but fair. do your work well, and she’ll respect you; slack off, and she’ll make you wish you hadn’t

HOMEWORK . spell diagrams, written explanations, and frequent wandwork practice

TIPS TO EXCEL . precision and focus are key. get creative, but don’t try anything too wild without permission

EXTRA CREDIT . demonstrate a flawless human-to-animal transfiguration (with her approval)

AVOID MISHAPS . never let your transfigured objects escape—chasing a hopping teacup through the halls is not fun, and you’ll never hear the end of it

★⋆. ARITHMANCY

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR VECTOR . she’s sharp and no-nonsense, but she’s got a soft spot for students who genuinely try. don’t show up without your charts; she’ll notice

HOMEWORK . endless numerical equations and analysis of magical patterns. expect to translate runes into numbers and vice versa

TIPS TO EXCEL . understand how numbers relate to magic—this isn’t just math, it’s magic theory in disguise. double-check your work; one wrong digit can tank your entire assignment

EXTRA CREDIT . present a new numerological correlation, like how the number “7” might affect potion brewing. bonus if it’s creative but realistic

AVOID MISHAPS . never guess at a solution—Professor Vector will spot laziness in seconds. keep your workspace neat, or the equations will haunt you

★⋆. ANCIENT RUNES

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR BABBLING . she’s patient and incredibly smart, but don’t come to class unprepared. misreading a rune will make her launch into a lecture about “respecting the symbols.”

HOMEWORK . translate ancient texts, decipher rune sequences, and write essays on magical etymology. sometimes includes carving your own runes for practice.

TIPS TO EXCEL . memorize the rune meanings and their magical properties—flashcards help. pay attention to detail; even a tiny line can change the meaning of a rune

EXTRA CREDIT . create your own rune sequence that produces a magical effect and explain its purpose. creative runework always gets top marks

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t mix up Nordic and Celtic runes—they have very different contexts, and Professor Babbling will lecture you for days

★⋆. MUGGLE STUDIES

DEALING WITH PROFESSOR BURBAGE . she’s enthusiastic and loves students who ask questions, even obvious ones. if you show respect for Muggle ingenuity, you’re golden

HOMEWORK . research papers on Muggle inventions and their impact, as well as practical exercises like identifying Muggle objects

TIPS TO EXCEL . don’t overthink it—Muggles live without magic, but they’re surprisingly clever. show curiosity and avoid using the word “primitive”

EXTRA CREDIT . present a Muggle artifact and explain how it works. bonus points if you demonstrate something functional, like a can opener or a bicycle pump

AVOID MISHAPS . don’t call electricity “the Muggle version of Lumos” unless you want a 10-minute tangent about how they’re completely different

★⋆. FLYING

DEALING WITH MADAM HOOCH . she’s strict but fair; listen to her instructions, and she’ll let you have some fun. mess around, and you’ll be grounded faster than you can say “Quidditch”

HOMEWORK . practicing broom control outside of class and writing essays about famous flyers or the mechanics of flight

TIPS TO EXCEL . focus on balance and broom grip—this isn’t about speed (yet). always stretch before class; cramps mid-air are embarrassing and painful

EXTRA CREDIT . show off advanced flying techniques, like tight turns or broom dives (but only if you’re really confident). bonus for clean landings

AVOID MISHAPS . never try to show off in front of the first-years—wobbling on a loop-the-loop is not a good look. keep your broom maintained; a splintered handle spells disaster.

[ there you have it—follow this guide, and you’ll not only pass these classes with flying colors, but you might even look like you know what you’re doing while you’re at it, and maybe you’ll avoid getting hexed by Snape. we’ll see ]

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[dwollsadventures]

I have a little side project I've been working on behind the scenes which involves a lot of isometric perspective drawing. Here's some of my test drawings. Top Layer (left to right): Nixie, Fairy, Crone, Warg, Oceanid, Oread, Dryad, Will O' The Wisp, Hinkypunk Bottom Layer (left to right): Angel, Imp (Classic), Imp (Boschian), Slime, Cockatrice (Classic), Cockatrice (Tropical), Basilisk (African), Basilisk (European)

[miscielross]

For this year's Halloween, Mixie's costume is a hinkypunk with a pumpkin head. The lantern's fire is an enchanted cold purple flame that doesn't burn.

Unfortunately he is hunted by the Freys on Trick or Treat night. Professor Brindlemore fortunately put a stop to them and pointed out that their 'hinkypunk' has two legs.

[incorrectwolfstar]

platonic moonflower headcanons bc i said so

- definitely those two in class who’d constantly get threatened to be separated by the teacher if they didn't start doing their work + stop misbehaving

third year remus + lily in datda who can't stop laughing bcs "wtf is a hinkypunk" + "idek man." eventually they would get separated and have to sit at opposite sides of the classroom but then they'd glance at each other and they'd be gone. they wouldn't be allowed to sit together for the rest of the year

- remus introduced her to the wonderful world of swearing. ofc lily being muggle born would know what swearing is but was brought up not to do it. she knew remus two weeks - welsh, born + bred, swearing like a sailor, can't go a sentence without cursing. she was converted. remus taught her a bunch of new swears and slangs she didn't know about + they'd be the worst in their year for language

- remus allergic to mango (lil's fav) + lily allergic to chocolate

- modern au would post each other on their stories so much everyone assumes they've been dating for ages

- physical affection comes soso naturally. remus would play with lil's hair subconsiously + she'd trace the scars over remus' hands/arms. the both of them would take up one (1) armchair on each other's laps + play fight on the carpet (adds to the dating rumours james is pissed ha ha)

- they share clothes!! they're the same trouser size the majority of the time so remus would wear her flares + cords + pyjama bottoms. lil would steal remus' jumpers + (mainly) cardi's, with t shirts which are far too much big for her

- when they go out drinking eight times out of ten they'll end up in the same bed the morning after (if it doesn't end up with drunk sex w sirius/james remus will be little spoon)

- she introduced him to fleetwood mac, he introduced her to the beatles

- made a similar post ab this, but moonflower karaoke they'd fuck it up every time. like they'd be so good together. at christmas time they'd duet fairytale of new york by the pogues. somethin' stupid by frank + nancy sinatra. you're the one that i want from grease. long haired lady by paul and linda mccartney. don't go breaking my heart by elton john + kiki dee. i'm telling u guys omfg the world would implode

[seriouslysam8]

Could we please get an Impluvious sneak peak Sam?!? Preferably with a small dose of Hinny??

Sure. Why not?

When they were finished, they entered the house to hear music blasting. A smile tugged on Sirius' lips when he saw Marlene sliding across the floor with Harry and Dora as they danced to the Hinkypunk Shuffle. Harry’s eyes sparkled as he did his own variation of the dance, despite Dora attempting to teach him the correct order of the moves.

“See-See! Dance!” Harry called.

Sirius chuckled. “I’m good. I’ll just watch.”

Harry apparently didn’t accept no for an answer. He galloped over to Sirius and wrapped both hands around one of his. Harry tugged on his arm, little grunts and whines escaping his lips. While Sirius wasn’t a stranger to the dance, as he often danced with Harry whenever the blasted song came on, he didn’t particularly fancy dancing to such a silly dance in front anyone except his godson. 

“You slide to the right like this, Uncle Sirius,” Dora explained, sliding to the right. “Then you slide to the left,” she continued, demonstrating. “Then you place both hands above your head like this and kind of sway down like a mist!” she said as she wiggled her body from side to side until she was crouching on the floor. 

“I think I remember it now, Dora,” Sirius interrupted before she went any further. “Thanks.”

Sirius slid to the right and then the left as Harry mimicked him better than he had Dora. He decided to forgo the theatrics and merely crouched down to the ground without any fanfare. Harry jumped beside him, his hands waving above his head.

“Like dis!” Harry explained. “See-See! Like dis! Like dis!” he exclaimed as he jumped like a little hyper jackrabbit. “Look! Look! Watch me! Watch me!”

The song finished and Sirius threw up his hands. “Ah, next time, yeah, kid?”

“Uncle Sirius, you have to act like a Hinkypunk when you go down to the ground,” Dora explained. “Hinkypunks are all elongated and stuff.”

“Yeah, Sirius, like this!” Ted exclaimed as he perfectly wiggled down like a Hinkypunk.

Harry bounced next to Sirius. “Henry! Henry!” he exclaimed.

Sirius only winced at Harry’s next request. He didn’t know what was worse: the Hinkypunk Shuffle or Henry the Hippogriff. The latter haunted his bloody dreams. The damn song was an earworm, constantly replaying in his head for hours on end. Sirius reached out, tugging the kid close to him. Once he had the kid trapped in his arms, he went straight for the armpits. Harry squealed, wiggling in Sirius’ arms as laughter burst from his lips. Sirius hoped Harry would forget all about his ruddy Hippogriff song. When he ceased the tickling, he held the kid close to his chest and pressed a kiss on top of his unruly mess of hair.

The outside door to the kitchen burst open. Sirius jumped, crushing Harry to his chest. Excited voices and a blur of red trampled into the house. He eased his grip, a sigh escaping his lips.

“You do not barge into other people’s houses!” Molly shouted. “Merlin, you lot keep this up and we won’t be invited back!”

“HARRY!” Ron yelled.

“WON!” Harry exclaimed, breaking free of Sirius’ embrace and bolting towards his friend.

The two kids embraced. Given Ron’s incredible height for a two-year-old, he looked a lot older than Harry who was on the smaller side. Or maybe he was average. Sirius didn’t bloody well know. It was hard to tell when he was next to Ron. Sirius made a mental note to ask Ted what Harry’s percentiles were.

A screech like a dragon sounded. Sirius snapped his head up to see Molly entering the kitchen with a thrashing Ginny. With a huff, Molly placed Ginny on her feet and the screeching ceased. She toddled in the direction of Harry and Ron, who had just broken their hug and were enthusiastically chatting to one another.

“I’m so sorry,” Molly said in a rush, her neck flushing. “Ginny has a classic case of youngest child syndrome because her brothers spoil her rotten. Zero patience.”

Marlene laughed as she walked across the kitchen to greet Molly with a hug. “I’ll let you know how Maia fares in a few months. Harry caves to her every whim.”

Sirius stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers and watching the toddlers interacting. A grin spread across his lips when he realized what Ginny wanted: Harry. She wrapped her arms around him, a string of nonsensical babbles escaping her lips. Harry wasn’t bothered as he jerked his arm free and wrapped it around Ginny’s shoulders.

“Hi, Gin-Gin,” Harry greeted, patting her on the head affectionately.

Sirius let out a small chuckle, watching as Harry cuddled Ginny to his side while chit-chatting with Ron. At one point, Harry titled his head to the side and rested his cheek against her head.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the trio to see Charlie and Dora introducing themselves. Percy sank into a chair at the table with a book. The twins whispered in the corner, which was never a good sign. Molly wrung her hands in front of her as Andromeda approached her.

[aroace-elgyem]

Here’s 2 Cassette Beasts fan designs I made and forgot to post lol

Spillowisp and Drinkypunk! (Both water type)

I made Spillowisp cause I really wanted to make a will o wisp Mon but didn’t want it to just be a will o wisp, so I decided to make a water one instead. It’s a jar pouring out water that mimics the will o wisp shape.

Drinkypunk pulls from those drinky bird things, and also has a “false eyes” thing going on that I really like. The name comes from drinky-bird and hinkypunk (a sort of will o wisp from Celtic mythology)

(The water looks bad ik, I have no clue how to draw water)

[regulus-blacks-lover]

hiiii could you do the fluff dialogue propts 25,26, and 44 for reg or sirius? dealer’s choice🥰 tysm if you take the time and have the inspiration for this!

25: “You’re alright, love. You’re okay.” 26: “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.” 44: “I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

Wrote this for Sirius because it just kinda gave me his vibe, hope you enjoy! Sorry for such a huge delay :) and sorry if the end is kinda abrupt, I didn't know how to end it lol

774 words

The closet containing the boggart rattled. The door began to creak open, slowly. You gulped, biting back the nerves that were already making your entire body shake.

"Just breathe." Came a voice from behind you. Sirius placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Like that. Just breathe. Whatever it shows you, it's not real."

There were only a few people ahead of you in the line, all producing common fears- spiders, clowns..

It was your turn. Sirius removed his hand from your shoulder so you could step forward. The boggart sensed your approach and began spinning, trying to decide what to transform into and then...

And then your boyfriend was standing in front of you, flanked by James and Remus. All three were smirking. Then Sirius said, his tone a joking drawl, "I can't believe you thought Redcaps were the same thing as Hinkypunks. You're so stupid." James and Remus both laughed and Sirius continued, "I mean I knew you were daft. After all, you really thought I loved you? When all I do is laugh at you and play my little pranks? Didn't it ever occur to you that I've been toying with you? That I've been trying to drive you away?" He was looking at you with nothing but disgust and disinterest in his eyes.

Somewhere behind you, the real Sirius swore under his breath, but you didn't really hear him. All you could see was how the boggart version of Sirius looked at you, like you were the punchline of a joke you hadn't even known was being told.

You couldn't even lift your wand, let alone cast the spell to repel the boggart. Tears in your eyes, you just backed away until you were out of the classroom. In the hallway, you turned to run back to the common room. You ignored the calls of Sirius hurrying out after you.

You made it to the common room before him and hurried up the steps to the girl's dormitory, where you knew he wouldn't be able to get to you.

You sat on top of your bed, numbly hugging your knees.

It wasn't long before you heard Sirius frantically calling your name from the bottom of the steps. Hearing his voice just reminded you of all the terrible things the boggart had said, all of your worst fears spoken aloud for the whole class to hear. You'd never dared to voice those fears to anyone, not even Sirius.

"Please come down, please!" He yelled up to you, sounding completely desperate.

You forced yourself to move, descending the steps as slowly as possible, delaying having to face him. Every step made your heart beat a little bit faster, your breath catching in your throat.

What was he going to say? What would he do? Was he going to confirm that the boggart had been telling the truth?

When you reached the bottom step, you hesitated. Sirius started to reach for you, looking as though he'd pull you down off the steps just to talk to you, but he stopped himself. You took a ragged breath, ashamed of the tears that were still flowing down your face.

"Please," Sirius said, and you willed yourself to step down into the common room.

As soon as you were standing before him, Sirius pulled you against his chest. "You're alright love, you're okay. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe. I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry. I didn't know- I didn't know you thought that- fuck- I love you so much, okay? I really do love you. And I know I'm shit at showing it, and fuck- I'm just- I'm so sorry."

He pulled away to look at you, searching your face. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like I didn't care for you, like I was using your trust as part of some twisted game-"

You placed a hand on his cheek and he closed his eyes. "I don't always think that, Sirius." You began, "It's just sometimes, when my self-doubt creeps in, if I'm not doing well in classes or feeling down, I start to wonder why- why this creative, hilarious, beautiful person is with me."

"I love you." He said, cupping your face in his hands. "I don't want you to ever doubt that again, okay? Please, will you please tell me if you're starting to question anything? I want to know."

You nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, I just- I guess I thought if I did, then you might've told me that I was right to feel that way."

"Never." He said. "I would never say that to you."

[quidcrusheu]

Alessia from Italy - your dancing at Emerald Dragon was top tier and you’re gorgeous <3

.

[lynxindisguise]

Dear Lynx tell me what happens when all the werepuppies get sick at once. How do their dads handle it????

oh noooo not sick werepuppies 😭😭😭

waffles is whimpering and shivering pathetically, aurora is so lethargic she can barely open her eyes. quincy keeps falling asleep on their book club books. vulcan is getting bitey and aggressive. pip keeps trying to eat his own vomit. and lyra is… behaving??? DEAR MERLIN THEIR BABIES ARE DYING.

remus is cuddling them and doting on them and trying not to let them see him cry. sirius is diagnosing them with a new rare illness every hour and screaming at remus that he has to find a hinkypunk spine to save them.

(it turns out to be an ear infection and they get some antibiotics from the vet and the puppies are just fine)

[evesaintyves]

for @remadoramicrofics October 2nd prompt, "cat"

995 words. Read it below or on AO3 😻

Earlier in the week, she was complaining about her flatmate— she's so annoying, up at the arsecrack of dawn every morning making noise, always wants a bite of my dinner; like, no! Get a job and buy your own! Merlin's tits, the cheek on her— so the first time he assents to going back to hers for one last drink, he glances around her narrow flat with its shoe-pile, its wallpaper of black-and-white gig flyers, and asks if anyone else is home. Tonks is curled up next to him on her hibiscus-printed couch, a refugee from the seventies just like him, and it would be unseemly to be found like this, might even pop the bubble of flattery and delusion that floated him all the way here. 

Oh yeah, she says. Vivienne's in the bathroom. She ticks her wand in the air, the bathroom door clicks ajar and around it winds a calico cat, tail aloft. You're behind on the rent, Tonks says icily. By about... thirty-two months.

The cat stops, dainty paw in the air, and gives her a look of big-eyed surprise, like, no, your maths are off, and Tonks hops up, scoops the cat into her arms, buries her face in her fur.

Rubbish flatmate. A loud squeaking kiss. As soon as Tonks sets her down, the cat leaps onto the sofa and settles herself on Remus's lap. He gives her a stroke from ears to tail; she nuzzles her head against his shirt buttons.

Weird, says Tonks. She's a total dick about strangers.

Oh?

Yeah. She squints at him. You must be special or something.

Remus scratches Vivienne under her chin. Her eyes close, slowly. Well, Vivienne, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Tonks drapes herself back into the warm spot she's left next to him on the couch. She's not touching him, but she is almost touching him. If he could only relax, he might sink back into the cushions with her, try out an arm slung over the back of the couch. Try out a touch of the wisps of hair that have come untucked from behind her ears. But he can't. He's stiff with anxiety. Because what if he's wrong about what any of this means: the way she straightens his collar, the way she tells him I've missed you this week.

You've had a cat before, she says. No question.

Vivienne has rolled to let him pet her tufted belly. The quickness to trust has thrown him off-balance. Both the cat and the girl.

When I was very small, he tells her.

Tonks just looks at him over the rim of her glass. She has this way of staring like she's silently daring him to do something. That's projection, surely. She's a sweet girl. She can't have half an idea what she does to him. And he's misrepresented himself, in his practiced-automatic way, as a normal person. Someone worthy of trust. It's dangerous, he wants to tell her, to be so open with someone like him.

Rupert was his name— Remus blurts this out instead— he was missing most of one of his ears. I remember I had this idea that he'd gotten in a fight with a Chimaera—perhaps my father joked about it. Rupert wasn't actually the fighting type, I think. We had mice in the kitchen all the time. I remember Dad—we were hinkypunk-spotting on the River Usk, crawling around in the mud and the reeds—telling me: 'pretend you're Rupert chasing a mouse.' Meaning, stay back, don't get too close and frighten them off.

Tonks throws her head back and snorts.

Vivienne's the same. I swear I've seen her lose a fight to a dead moth.

Yes, Remus says, rubbing the cat behind her ears. She seems quite gentle.

Did Rupert... do a runner? Or...?

Remus frowns.

I don't actually know. By the time I was five or six he wasn't there anymore.

There's a slight tremor in his breath—it's the first he's ever really thought about it. He thinks he might know why. But those things go in the tight cupboard at the bottom of his mind, and he does his best not to rummage back there.

I don't remember much from that time, he admits with a mouth of cotton.

Tonks reaches out, slowly, the way you'd reach to touch a wild animal, and brushes her fingers against his cheek.

Molly and Arthur have come to see Teddy, and Dora has graciously given them the side of the sofa that doesn't have a long white streak of baby sick crusted into it. Remus is up and making tea, rinsing carpet-hairs off the dummy at the kitchen sink. Cheers, love, Dora says, sweet and tired, when he lifts the baby's head from her shoulder to swap out the burp cloth for a dry one. She presses her cheek to his forearm and asks for another cup of tea.

From the kitchen he hears the groan of the bathroom door, and then, a moment later, Molly's oh goodness, who is this? He smiles to himself, tweezing three sugars into Dora's cup. Viv's been a bit jealous since Teddy was born, always making figures-of-eight around Remus's ankles while he's walking Teddy through his colicky nights.

When he turns around, Viv is draped over Arthur's lap with her head nuzzling the crook of his elbow.

Oh yeah, Dora is laughing, she's a total slut. She'll let anyone have a feel. She'll probably try to go home with you.

Remus stops in the doorway and the spoon rattles in the teacup. Dora turns to look, and on her face there's half a smile: not as much like she's been caught as much as she's daring him to say something about it.

She winks. Teddy's little legs kick inside his sleep sack.

Remus sets the cup of tea beside her and strokes the baby's fuzz of sea-green hair.

It's true, he says, grinning.

image 1: kees van dongen, woman with cat

image 2: inagaki tomoo, cat

[greenhousethree]

Forbidden (Happy Birthday, Neville.)

Sending belated wishes to my main man, Mr. Number Two, with this (not so micro)fic. Also available on AO3.

DH missing moment, November 1997.

His favorite thing about this place is the quiet.

That’s the way he thinks of it, anyway. It’s not really quiet, though, not ever. In fact, the longer he stands still, the louder it becomes.

He shouldn’t be here. Luna would admonish him, if she knew.

But they’ve run out of dittany again. His knuckles sting, ribs throbbing, and then there’s the fury screaming in his ears, a distant rushing… his own hoarse voice, a blend of the way they’d sounded, probably… taunts from the woman who slipped through his fingers, seared inside his skull…

He needs the quiet. Forbidden or not.

There’s something about being in a forest— this forest, particularly— that muffles everything else. Trees swallow him beneath a canopy the moment he sets foot on the path, closing rank behind him.

Surprising, really, that anything grows there at all. Professor Sprout— Pomona, as she’s insisting now— guessed there might only be dark-dwelling species, when he asked.

But he sees the truth when he’s here. Marvels at it. Agapanthus, bone-white and taller than he stands, blooms toward a sun it rarely sees. Cobra lilies large enough to fill Hagrid’s tankards; bulges of devil’s tooth oozing jammy blood. Bouncing bulbs and Witch’s Ganglion, native elsewhere, thriving here. 

It’s all around him, in the dark, in the quiet. Roots probing deep through soil steeped in magic. An ecosystem that breathes, pulsing and skittering, overhead and underfoot. The forest mocks winter’s approach.

A twig snaps as he presses on. His cloak isn’t enough tonight. His breath forms icy ghosts, late November air slipping down his collar as he wonders, for the fifteen-thousandth time, about the empty beds in his dorm. Seamus still hasn’t heard from Dean. He supposes it’s good they haven’t heard from the others. 

To his left, a Hinkypunk’s wispy glow bobs between trees, an ethereal green promise.

Ginny would laugh if she knew he’d come. Or she might’ve, before last night. Michael did the best he could today with a t-shirt, fashioned her a sling while she bit down on a rag.

The irony isn’t lost on him, though: finding solace in a place used for punishment. A place thrumming with otherworldly dangers, evolved to deceive and parasitize unwitting hosts. Lately, it’s oddly comforting, the idea that everything out here once muscled its way through the soil, alone in the dark with the same goal. A life much simpler, at least, than one marred by human cruelty.

He thinks of Luna, telling him the moon has rejuvenating powers. Tilts his face skyward, as if he might catch some of the light trickling in. The idea tugs at the corners of his lips.

He stumbles across the spot sooner than he expected, startled by the sudden brightness. The nearly-full moon casts a pearly wreath of leaves around the clearing. As he sidesteps a gnarled, dead-looking stump with care, he finds himself beneath silver beams.

Nothing grows here. Like a hole was ripped clean through the woods, trees uprooted without a trace. The earth seems to reach up and pull him down with gobs of filthy webbing. Clinging to his feet, matted with brown, shriveled things that have rotted away. He’s never seen so much as a bird fly through.

He’s always wondered if something might’ve happened. Wonders now, with a thrill of foreboding, if that something has happened yet. And why, despite seeking life, his feet keep bringing him back.

Somewhere in the trees, an owl shrieks a warning.

He stands there, transfixed, until his toes are numb. Stiff, clumsy fingers wrap around his wand and lead the way back into the shadows, where he finds welcome darkness in the tree cover. And despite the bitter cold, despite the pain hammering in his chest and buckling his knee, he longs to linger here among the foliage. To find a home alongside creatures that remain immune to his presence, unbothered by his wand. 

He continues back anyway. Always back, toward a castle that thrusts against the black sky: a glowing shell, cradling something sinister. Like a shoot probing through soil, he's tunneling toward a beacon he’s long since learned to be false.

As he nears the mouth of the trail, his left hand slips into his pocket. The coin is heavy in his palm, pitted beneath his thumb with ridges along the edge. Cold, unchanging.

It took him years to realize what it takes to thrive here. Now, he sees how everything around him has managed to break the code, to grow in the forest with resolute audacity, daring to exist. Coming back year after year, calloused by another woody layer of protection. Blindly reaching toward a sun they might see again, alone and together, in the quiet.

Thanks so much to @honeydukesheroine and @turanga4 for the wonderful beta and cheer reads!