Idk Much About The Watcher Lore But I Like It When It Turns Grian Purple

I’ve probably said this before but having every good and service turn into a subscription model is one of the worst new developments of our era of capitalism. Like yeah, shit sucked before but it didn’t suck for 19.99 a month indefinitely. This some new shit.

Draco Malfoy is a Girl Dad. You're telling me this man wouldn't wear a feather boa and sit in a comically small chair drinking tea (water) from a tiny china cup??? Unacceptable. That man's entire existence revolves around his daughter's convoluted stuffed animal heirarchy.

Yule Ball, 1994

"Can we talk?"

Grab Your Tickets! LCDrarry starts posting soon 🍿🎞📽

What are we even talking about, you ask?

LCDrarry is a fun Drarry fest where all creations are inspired by movies, TV shows or theatre plays ... as well as audiobooks, audiodramas or podcasts. The LCDrarry works will post anonymously all through the Month of May, and the creators will be revealed on 1 June 2025 on tumblr and AO3 in our LCDrarry 2025 collection

So follow us 💚🥰 and please share far and wide, so that everyone can enjoy all the Drarry goodness this cinema season 🥰🌈🍿🎬

Your LCDrarry Mods Tami & Suzi @celilasart & @erin-riwen

Once you start thinking about humans as a species in a biome, it affects your entire way of looking at normal things.

The other day I referred to female morning joggers as an 'indicator species' in that if you see women jogging in the dark it means that the environment provides migration pathways (sidewalks, clear signs) and doesn't have any known predators of female morning joggers (guy with knife, bear, BigTruck, male morning joggers).

Though, I think that people consider framing humans as animals reacting to their environment as rude.

the most annoying people are people who don't understand storytelling. they be like "oooo how convenient that this thing happened to the main character in the very beginning". yeah no shit. that's why the story begins here

many thanks to @smugrobotics and @mourningliliesmorningglories for tagging me! 🥰

3 ships I like: drarry, scorbus, sebinis

First ship: Saren/Nihlus from Mass Effect 💔

Last song heard: The Nightingale from The Witcher 3 soundtrack

Fave childhood book: Winnetou 🥹

Currently reading: HP & the OotP, Difficult Loves by Calvino, 77 Dream Songs by Berryman, and The Rise and Fall of DODO by Stephenson

Currently watching: Fellow Travelers (for those who saw this same answer three months ago: yes, still. i am very slow)

Currently consuming: chamomile tea with milk, the ultimate evening drink 👌✨

Currently craving: 30 hour days, please?

Pets: a teenaged tuxedo cat aptly named Silly

who's up for playing? @slightweasel @holygnocchi @chocolando @izroan-ff @lizziedrip

Lindas

[day 13 of Microfic May: beware]

Harry doesn't mind keeping their relationship a thing only known to them and their friends.

It's not really a secret, but both of them have lost enough patience trying to dodge unwanted attention since the war has ended that it's only reasonable then that they keep their dates firmly in the muggle territory of the British Isles. Going anywhere else means planning and strategy and way too much effort to successfully avoid every vague acquaintance wishing to once again disparage the name of Malfoy—as if that's not old news—or advise Harry that he should beware of harmful influences in his midst.

He looks now to the other end of the couch: to Draco's nose buried in a book, his in-need-of-a-trim hair falling into his eyes, his body contorted into a shape that looks uncomfortable, but considering he hasn't moved in more than half an hour, it must not be.

Every couple of minutes, his hand darts upwards to push up his hair and every single time, his tome tilts, nearly falling out of his lap. Draco scowls every time, but does nothing to readjust his circumstances. Harry almost wants to shoot a bunch of sticking charms at him—one at his hair and forehead, the other at his book and knees—but this routine is too charming to fix.

He taps his thumb against Draco's ankle, where his feet are buried under Harry's thigh. Draco hums questioningly.

"Love you," Harry says, casually, as if the first time he'd said it had not almost broken them up. Now, though, they feel more solid. Draco doesn't even look up from his reading.

"Thanks," he responds instead, absentmindedly, and pokes Harry's knee with his toe.

other days: tumblr / ao3