rheya1864

[rheya1864]

Adult website and period tracker

[rheya1864]

[rheya1864]

Coming back here after two fucking years feels really good. And now that I checked my messages, I realised I had so many amazing friends that I have lost now. I hope they are doing well, thriving and are living their best life.

#coming back #it has been too long

[rheya1864]

Two Missing Pieces of Banoffee Pie

As Harry’s best man, Ron’s speech was a given. And when Ron got up to give said speech, it took a few moments for the crowd to quiet. He had to wait for George to stop snickering and Ginny to stop singing ‘Weasley is our King.’ Eventually, after some tittering from Narcissa and Molly, Ron cleared his throat, raised his glass, and told everyone exactly how it happened.

After all, Harry and Malfoy owed everything to Ron, and the Prophet got it wrong. Not that the Prophet got much right, but still.

It was a Wednesday. That specific detail never changed, no matter how many times Ron told the story. He knew it was Wednesday because the canteen had banoffee pie, and that only happened on Wednesdays. 

Ron had left for lunch early, guaranteeing at least three slices of pie. One for him, one for Harry—and one for Malfoy, which Harry would say was really from him. Ron would double-down on the lie because that’s just what best mates did.

Their office, tucked into the farthest corner of Level Two, was messy. Parchment and quills, evidence bags and crumpled memos scattered everywhere, crisp bags and dirty trainers stacked by the overflowing rubbish bin. Fucking disgusting, Malfoy once called it—and he wasn’t wrong, though neither Harry nor Ron said so. 

(Malfoy would make sure to bring this up during his speech.)

So, Ron cleared a tiny space on Harry’s desk, tucked the two pieces of pie between an empty bottle of Pepper-Up Potion and a bright green toy dragon.

He was three bites into his own piece when Harry returned, Malfoy following close behind.

They were fighting, but then what the fuck else was new?

They carried on, ignoring Ron. Which was fine by Ron, who ignored them right back, trying to enjoy his pie and what was left of his thirty minute break.

The silence, the absence of arguing, was what finally caught Ron’s attention.

Harry held up the invitation to the Ministry’s annual Christmas party, green and red and gold sparking off the glossy paper. “Wait… I thought you couldn’t go?”

“I never said that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You need to get your ears checked, Potter.”

“My ears are fine, Malfoy.”

Ron snorted, Malfoy scowled and Harry huffed. Ron ate more pie.

“So you are going?”

“Yes.”

“With Pennington?”

“Yes.”

The invitation in Harry’s hand burst into flames. 

“I thought you liked Pennington?” Ron offered, extinguishing the fire with a practised hand (Harry’s temper led to accidental fires at least twelve times a week.)

“Pennington’s a twat,” Harry snarled. He pointed at Malfoy. “You can’t go with him.”

Malfoy crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels. “I can go with whomever I damn well please.”

“And you chose Pennington?!”

“He asked me.”

Ron had a vivid flashback to fourth-year: Hermione’s hair loose around her shoulders, their fight on the stairs, his regret at not having asked her to the Yule Ball before Krum.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” Harry scoffed, pulling at his already tangled curls. “To Pennington—the biggest twat of all the twats on Level Five.”

“As I said two bloody seconds ago, I can go with whomever I damn well please.” Malfoy stamped his foot, hands balled into fists at his sides. “And no one else asked me.”

Once, when Harry got caught in a bad raid, Malfoy visited him in St Mungo’s every day for a month. He had memorised Harry’s order at each and every coffee shop within a three mile radius of the Ministry. Ron never saw Harry smile like he did when Malfoy walked into the room. And there wasn’t a Friday night, that Ron could remember anyway, when they didn’t tuck themselves away into a dark booth, drinking and laughing until the early hours of the morning. 

Harry and Malfoy glared at each other, too fucking stubborn for their own good.

“I think—” Ron coughed once, stalling, before deciding that this was, indeed, the perfect moment, and within his purview as Harry’s best mate. “I think what Ferret’s trying to say is that you didn’t ask him.”

All the colour drained from Malfoy’s face, while Harry’s cheeks went red as a tomato.

“I… is that—I mean—” Harry stuttered and took a shaky step towards Malfoy.

“Oh shut up,” Malfoy said, and it might have been for Harry, and it might have been for Ron. 

But it didn’t really matter because in the next moment Malfoy grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him. Ashes fell to the floor as Harry dropped the mostly incinerated invitation and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, kissing him harder.

Ron, who wasn’t a pervert thank you very much, kept his eyes down, reaching across the piles of detritus on his desk to snag the two extra pieces of pie.

He was still hungry, and Harry and Malfoy were a bit too preoccupied to notice it was gone anyway.

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: 'Feels Like' by Gracie Adams.

[rheya1864]

“When we speak of Orpheus, we remember him as the boy who could charmed his way into the underworld with his music. The boy who convinced even the dread king and queen of the dead to give him his lost love back. The boy who lost the love of his life due to his own folly, he looked back, he looked back when he shouldn’t have. His grief takes up all the pages we can give him, he tells us his story and we mourn at his side. But less is spoken of Eurydice. The girl who lost her life so cruelly on her wedding day. The girl who never stopped hoping that the boy she loved would find her even in this cold place, he would find her because their love was stronger than death itself. There is little said of her utter betrayal to see her only second chance at life bartered for an impatient glance. Perhaps it is easier to know Orpheus’ mortal grief than it is to acknowledge Eurydice’s eternity of devastation. After all, dead women can tell no stories. And even if they could, the world has already been taught not care.”

— Eurydice, Nikita Gill

[rheya1864]

Flufftober 5: Oh No, You're a Morning Person!

If Harry was being honest, he hated the mornings.

With a burning passion.

And what he hated even more than he hated the mornings, was being a teacher in the mornings. Was there anything in existence that was more annoying than listening to teenagers moan and groan about how difficult their lives were before you'd even sat down for a cup of coffee? Harry felt rather certain that there was not.

Still, if that was the worst part of teaching (and most often, that seemed to be the case) at Hogwarts, Harry wasn't going to complain.

The staff tended to be fairly reserved at breakfast, most of them probably weren't morning people, truth be told, and they usually had too much on their minds to be chatting anyway.

But all of that suddenly changed this year with the new addition to their staff. And perhaps none of this would have changed except that Harry had been on fairly good terms with Draco Malfoy since their 8th year. He wouldn't have called them friends, but they were friendly.

So he couldn't really be blamed for doing something when he heard Trelawney groan, "Oh no, you're a morning person," when Draco greeted everyone cheerfully on his first day during their set up week before the students arrived. "I've had the most horrific vision for you, dear-"

He looked up in time to watch Draco deflate a bit and he couldn't not do something. "Oy, Draco!" he called, waving cheerfully and plastering a smile on his face. "Down here," he said. "Ignore her," he added pointedly, "some people just have never been the best at seeing and accepting joy instead of horrors."

"I've had a vision about you, too, my boy-" Trelawney started, pointing at Harry.

He waved her off, "Yes, yes. I'm sure I've died a most terrible death and all that."

Draco huffed a small laugh but sat down next to Harry. "Thanks," he said, voice low so no one would overhear him. "Just a little nervous about my first day-"

"You're going to be great," Harry assured him. "Don't let her ruffle you. You know what she's like," he added, rolling his eyes.

"Well," Draco said, as he bit into his toast, "She has had some important prophecies," he said meaningfully.

And Harry knew that was true, they'd both been about him after all, but, "Seeing as I've been in her presence when she's made a prophecy that was true, I think it's safe to say she's making up a load of nonsense right now."

"Well, thanks for rescuing me. It seems like there aren't very many people on staff that enjoy conversation in the morning. It's nice that you do."

He'd done this to himself. He knew he had. And the smart thing would have been to fess up and tell Draco the truth but, "Yeah," he said laughing. "You've no idea what it's been like for the past two years with no one on staff to talk to in the mornings," he added a bit weakly.

Minerva shot him an amused glance over the tops of her glasses and he shrugged one shoulder pathetically in response.

"Well," Draco said, "You won't believe what I've found out..."

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

For six months this continued.

Every day.

Harry would come down to breakfast and try to guzzle his cup of coffee just to be awake enough to listen to Draco talk when he arrived five minutes later looking like he'd been up and about for hours.

It continued right until the first morning that Harry woke up in Draco's bed after spending the night there.

"Hey," he murmured when Draco opened his eyes. His voice was soft but a bit giddy with the feeling of adoration pooling in his chest at the sight of the other man. The grey light of dawn was just starting to peek through the window and normally Harry would be checking his alarm to see how much longer he could sleep.

Draco groaned, face scrunching up in displeasure. "Too early," he grunted. "You can't talk yet."

"I thought you were a morning person," Harry laughed in spite of himself.

The other man glared with the one eye that was open, "What part of 'you can't talk yet' was unclear?"

He grinned at Draco, wanting to absolutely smother his grumpy little face in kisses, and settled back into bed to enjoy the quiet of waking up together.

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Read my other Flufftober ficlets

[rheya1864]

[rheya1864]

It has come to my attention that not everybody knows about the wangxian ice dance performance so in honor of it being figure skating season and the Olympics being held in Beijing, here y’all go💖

[rheya1864]

I really love the idea of Lan Wangji recognizing Wei Wuxian just because he knows no one else has heard "WangXian," but I also think the way he was using "WangXian" was important. Lan Wangji caught a demonic cultivator controlling a powerful fierce corpse. He wasn't wreaking a massacre or setting the fierce corpse against the cultivators and using the opportunity to run away though.

He was playing a song of comfort for that fierce corpse. He was leading him slowly away from the mob of cultivators. He clearly cares both about the safety of those cultivators and the safety of the fierce corpse. Enough to risk his own safety. Who else? Who else would use his power like this?

[rheya1864]

they’re. the same picture.

[rheya1864]

Persephone to Hades - Nikita Gill

[rheya1864]

I AM NOT THE RESPONSABLE FOR THE PERSON I BECAME WHEN I SAW THIS!!!!!!!

[rheya1864]

Daughter takes picture of her dad on his graduation day.

[rheya1864]

mxtx guys be really living their wattpad girlie dreams

lwj literally wrote a song about the hot dude in the class, named it after their ship name and got to marry the said hot dude from the class.

hua cheng created multiple fan art of his idol, sent him thousands of fan mails (lanterns), fought xie lian antis, and married his idol who was also an emperor by the end of the story.

and in scum villian i can't even decide who was the wattpad girlie in the story. shen yuan who married the supposed player, bingbing who banged his milf teacher or shang qinghua who married the rich sugar daddy who was also his literal dream guy?

[rheya1864]

[rheya1864]

This.

in this house we love Taika Waititi

[rheya1864]

~ Beautiful Magnolias swaying in a fountain