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baetriots · 2 years

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Harwin Strong coming up at Rhaenyra like “so I heard the position of being your whore was open”

#house of the dragon #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #mpp

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grapefruit-personified · 4 months

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She’s gay, Marcus 🤝 They’re lesbians, Stacy

#woho #mpp #marie Philip poulin #laura stacey #pwhl montreal #pwhl

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5bi5 · 4 months

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Fuckin around

#mpp #marie-philip poulin #art #woho #women's hockey #idk if i'm happy with this but i've gotta call it finished #pwhl #montreal echo #hockey

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thisdastampdoesnotexist · 2 months

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#da stamps #deviantart stamps #stamp #mpp #merriweather post pavilion #anco #animal collective

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junkratsadstuck · 2 years

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thinking about guillermo wearing a white turtleneck to nandor’s wedding… and how brides wear white veils that get lifted for a kiss to mark the beginning of a lifelong partnership… and how we know guillermo dreams of pulling aside his collar so nandor can press his mouth to guillermo’s neck and turn him into a vampire…

#wwdits #wwdits spoilers #wwdits s4 #wwdits s4 spoilers #nandermo #someone write this more articulately than me i keep rambling #mpp

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the-irongirl · 1 year

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#akira #kanetetsu #kaneda shotaro #tetsuo shima #kaneda x tetsuo #akira 1988 #katsuhiro otomo #kanetets #mpp #otp

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possessingtheproperspirit · 10 months

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It's @mppmaraudergirl's birthday! In celebration, have this random load of nonsense: sixth year Jily flirting by the lake.

“Ah, June.”

She doesn’t lift her gaze from the book in her lap, although she can’t seem to stop the smile already tugging at her lips.

He is not discouraged by her lack of response. “To be young and in love in June,” he sighs, and flops down next to her. He smells like mint and pine and sweat. Not that she notices that sort of thing. “How can you bear it, Evans?”

“What, June?” she asks, still not looking up. Over the course of their sixth year at Hogwarts, she’s become used to his meandering threads of conversation: his mind works in mysterious and, yes, amazing ways. Now that they’re friends, she’s more attuned to it than ever. “One day at a time, Potter. Just me and my will to survive.”

He snorts and her smile strengthens; finally, she allows herself to look up, squinting in the sunshine as she takes him in. His tie has long since been abandoned, his hair its usual dishevelled mess. His legs are stretched out in front of him, and he rests back on his elbows, a louche sort of insouciance that, again, she wishes she didn’t find as charming as she does.

“Not June,” he corrects her, and nods towards the lake. From their vantagepoint, under the shade of an ancient willow tree, they have the perfect view of two fourth years, flirting for Britain in the shallows. “Love’s young dream over there. It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” she wonders. She recognises the boy—he’s a Hufflepuff prefect. Seems nice enough. “All they’re doing is standing there.”

“Standing there,” he repeats dryly. She can tell that he’s enjoying himself, that he’s committing to this train of thought even if he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he says things and he means them; sometimes he says things and he’s looking to have some fun. She likes both versions equally. “Flaunting their happiness in front of us!”

She turns to look at James, biting her lip as her smile threatens to overwhelm. “Oh, I’m sorry, Potter,” she says, and he meets her gaze, his own grin blooming. “I didn’t realise you were suffering so.”

“Being single,” he shrugs, waving an airy hand in the direction of the lake. “The secret sadness, even on a sunny day.” He glances down at her book. “Even in your fine company. Even though you’d rather be reading—what is that?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” she replies, showing him the cover. “It’s a classic.”

“That’s what girls want, is it?” he smirks. “Regency romance, contained desire and declarations of love at a polite distance?”

“Well,” she considers. “That, and paddling about in a lake.”

James’ laugh warms her, and she follows his gaze back out to the flirting pair nearby. “Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“Or maybe,” she says, and she’s not sure why, because it makes her stomach feel like it’s turning inside out, “you’re not going as wrong as you think you are.”

He looks round again, an intrigued eyebrow raised. For a moment, no comment, and she thinks she’s messed this up. They were having a rambling joking conversation, and she made it into something real.

But then he smiles again, and says, “We’re often our own harshest critic, aren’t we?” A pause, then, “Most of us, anyway. Sirius thinks he’s the bee’s knees.”

“But that’s only because he is,” Lily replies. Her heartbeat is returning to a normal rate. “Ignore the lake lovebirds. Lie back and I’ll read you some of my book.”

He chuckles, but does as he is asked, settling comfortably back against the grass. “Can I try to guess the ending?” he asks. “Who dies first, pride or prejudice? My money’s on prejudice.”

“James,” she says patiently, opening her book up again. “Shut up and listen.”

“Harsh,” he murmurs, and grins up at her. “But fair.”

And that was where they stayed, until the sun started to set over the lake.

#jily #jple #birthday!#mpp #fic #writing

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berrychanx · 1 year

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