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BEHOLDEN is fantastic! Omg, so happy to have new stuff from faithwood aaaaa

#drarry #faithwood #beholden

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"We could go anywhere.

anywhere?

anywhere. "

#omg #im reading #running on air #atm and it's amazing

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What if Harry was in school to be a chef and then during their On The Job training (required for graduating) they have this big feast where they show off the food they made and then Draco shows up to support Harryyyy

#me coming back to drarry #writing prompt #drarry

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professors lovegood, longbottom and potter

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they sit and judge people (everyone thinks they're weird)

#omg #snily #i love it where's the accompanying fic

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Waiting for ao3 to email me with updates to my an ongoing fic that has been taking over my life.

#ao3 #drarry #miershooptier #I'm just trying to make an honest living #i can't focus i haven't had this week's update #where are you mierrrr

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I dont like that this fic is very good at expressing how depression feels. So much so that my mental alarms didn't detect that Draco is depressed. It just drew me in. I have felt like this before.

#drarry #this made me cry #running on air #eleventy7

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if silly fanfic can’t be considered the best piece of literature you’ve ever read, then why Turn ? why Away Childish Things ? why Running on Air ? why Dwelling ? why The Man Who Lived ? why Reparations ? why The Bolthole ? why Grounds for Divorce ?

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I'm pretty good over too.

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J. K. Rowling and Neil Gaiman are such a funny contrast to me, like Rowling: Oh, and by the way, I put gay characters in my books. People: Is there anything... showing that? Rowling: No. Also trans women don't deserve respect People: wtf Gaiman: Here are some immortals that transcend all human concepts of gender and attraction who use a variety of pronouns, and also some clearly canon human queers. People: Are the immortals queer? Gaiman: That is an entirely valid way to view them. Other people: Ugh, pushing a modern woke agenda. It used to be- Gaiman: Fuck you

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via indiarosecrawford

Frog Paints a Water Lily Pond 🪷🎨🐸

𝑓ₒᵣ ⲕᵢ𝑛𝑔 ₐ𝑛𝑑 𝑐ₒ𝑡𝑡ₐ𝑔ₑ

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A tale of Ba Sing Se.

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speechless. the pose. the expression. this should be a painting.

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It stands to reason that Harry’s holding groceries when he runs into Draco Malfoy for the first time in twenty years.

Well— doesn’t run into, exactly. No, more like peers through a shop window like a right barmy bastard, bits of overspilling lettuce brushing his arm and passers-by on Diagon shooting him strange looks.

Of course Malfoy has to look up from the till— because, yes, Draco Malfoy is a shopkeeper on Diagon Alley apparently— and see him goggling. So, of course, Harry has to step inside, as though he meant to make a stop at— right, yeah, Narcissus Needlework Studio— all along, holding brown paper packages of vegetables.

Malfoy’s frowning when Harry makes his way over to the till.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he says. “I’ve registered the shop, everything’s perfectly within regulation—“

“Trouble?” Harry blinks. “Oh, no. I’m not an Auror. Anymore.”

“I know that,” Malfoy says unhappily. “The whole Wizarding World all over Europe knows that. Only you’ve never left well enough alone, have you, Potter?”

Harry’s forty next month. He’s lived twenty years seeing hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy, and he’s never gone looking. Well, except for that one time when he was twenty one and went to the Manor as a trainee Auror for a— well, it was a routine check, really. And that other time when he was twenty five and thought he saw a man at a club who looked just like Malfoy from the back and was convinced for four months Malfoy was back in London and must be up to something if no one knew about it. And that time when he was thirty two— and, oh, alright, Harry hasn’t ever left well enough alone, not when it comes to Malfoy, at least.

This time, though, Harry really didn’t go looking. And it’s definitely Malfoy.

“I just wanted some— thread,” Harry says. A needlework studio should have some of that, shouldn’t it?

“Thread,” says Malfoy. He looks down, deliberately, at Harry’s lettuce.

“For Molly,” Harry says. “As a, um, birthday present. New shop on Diagon, thought I’d pop by. Seemed the place, you know. Didn’t know it was yours.”

Molly’s birthday, Malfoy doesn’t need to know, is in December. It’s June.

Malfoy continues to stare at him, until Harry’s unsure whether to get indignant about it all or turn tail and flee.

“Well,” says Malfoy before he can make a choice. “Embroidery yarn for you, then, Potter. Come along.”

-

“I’ll see you again, I assume,” Malfoy says at the end of what transpires to be a surprisingly smooth purchase.

Harry nods.

He only realises after he leaves that there’s no reason for him to come back. He’s seen it for himself— what Draco Malfoy’s up to these days. Nothing nefarious or suspicious, just yarn and needles and tapestries on Diagon.

Except, well, he’s committed now, hasn’t he? And Harry Potter’s a man of his word. He said yes, when Malfoy asked— Malfoy asked!— so he’ll be back.

And really, if he has to invent Hermione’s sudden new and passionate interest in needlework— well. That’s between Harry and his lettuce.

written for @drarrymicrofic’s prompt “sewing”. i just personally think harry james potter could be seventy five and still rapidly become obsessed with draco malfoy at any given moment.

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"oh, if you make out with friends, you could ruin the friendship" so who am i supposed to kiss? my enemies? get a grip

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Follow, follow the Sun / And which way the wind blows / When this day is done ⁣🎶 ⁣ Today, April 8, 2024, the last total solar eclipse until 2045 crossed North America.⁣

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