The Boy With The Dragon Tattoo

The Boy with the Dragon Tattoo

For @goodboylupin’s Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was “Hot Lips”. I had so much fun writing this!!

Remus stills, tracing his eyes up the photo. The photographer has captured a man standing on a white beach. He’s wearing nothing but swim shorts, bright blue fabric wet, and clinging to shapely thighs. The way he carries himself looks familiar, something about the tilt of his chin and the slight tension in his shoulders. 

When Remus looks closer his breath catches in his throat because there, spread across the man's solar plexus is the wingspan of a dragon, fire spilling from its mouth and falling across a broad chest. Squinting Remus lifts the phone out of Lily’s hands and nearer to his face. The man’s eyes are cut off at the top of the frame and the last thing he can see is a strong jawline and lips that Remus would recognize anywhere. They’re red and full and curved into a small smirk. Remus traces his finger along them smiling; he remembers the way those lips had felt like against his, hot and wet and like he’d never get enough. 

“Remus? What is it?” Lilly interrupts his thoughts. She’s staring across the table at him, eyes wide and concerned. With a start Remus remembers what he’s supposed to be doing. He drags his eyes off the man’s body and quickly reads the caption: Sirius Black Shows off Mysterious New Tattoo. 

Oh, so that explains the way his phone has been blowing up all morning, he thinks, before his brain goes a little fuzzy, a little blank. Because who is Sirius Black exactly? Remus isn’t prepared for this. He looks up to Lilly hoping she doesn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice, “Um have you heard of someone named Sirius Black?” 

She answers him slowly, her tone confused, “Uh yes he’s only the front man of London's most popular rock group?” 

Remus stares at her,  his eyes unblinking. He must sit there frozen for long enough for Lily to realize that something is really wrong, because the next thing he knows she's on his side of the table, sliding into the chair next to him and wrapping him in her arms. 

“What is it?” She asks carefully, eyes on his face. 

“Um,” Remus doesn’t know what to say. When he gestures to the photo on his phone screen he notices his hands are shaking in barely visible tremors. “That’s mine.” 

“What do you mean?” Lilly asks, her voice soft, “Sirius Black?” She leans forward to get a better glance at the picture and suddenly she looks up at Remus, her eyes widening. “Oh! You mean the tattoo.” 

“Yes,” Remus looks back at her, “Remember the man I told you about two weeks ago who stayed during the power outage? The one who -“ He breaks off not sure if he’s allowed to talk about the kiss now. Now that Sirius is someone famous, someone unfathomable. 

“Oh!” Lily said again, this time her eyes are as wide as saucer plates. “Oh my god. I don’t know what to say. No wonder you’re reacting like that. This is insane.”

This art is so beautiful 💙

"At the cottage, Harry held his bedroom door open, and Draco slipped inside, hungry and fumbling and sweet. When they were finished and lying close in the double bed, Harry clumsily kissed Draco on the cheek and pushed the sweaty hair from his brow, willing him to stay the night.

“I dreamed about this once,” Draco said, so softly Harry might have missed it if he hadn’t been waiting for it, in the quiet."

Waiting for that Feeling by @sorrybutblog

a very belated wheel of drarry fic for the very kind and talented iota, who was very understanding and allowed me to gift her an art piece instead of a fic for the exchange. thank you so much for your patience and i hope you like your little gift. this fic has become one of my favourite fluff fics because of how tender each moment is written. honestly, reading it felt like going through an old journal and reading through the smudged ink, finding stories that comfort you and bring you light in the darkest nights. of course, i loved the light angst part, but i especially loved the little moments in the fic where i could find tangible moments. reading this fic felt like a being under a warm blanket during a stormy night. ❤

ko-fi | ao3 | instagram (currently inactive but i'll upload my recent art on there when my schedule allows me <3)

I love this piece so much! The writing style is so unique and allows such depth of perspective :)

fight just a little to bring back the fire in my eyes

CW: vague references to suicidal thoughts, depression/mental illness. Based on "She Used To Be Mine" from the musical Waitress.

I gave out pieces of myself like candy, after the war. I did before it, too, and during, if I'm honest with myself. But it got worse, somehow, even after I proved to be the hero they demanded, the savior I needed to be.

But it wasn't enough. People want to be saved from more than dangers outside their own control. They want to be saved from the dirty work of confronting their own prejudice, of the struggle of reckoning with trauma from battle. And just because my entire life has put me through a crucible of one soul-wrenching struggle after another doesn't mean I want or need to do that for anyone else anymore.

I look in the mirror and see a twenty-three-year-old man, and while I am hardened and calloused and scarred and used, I am in so many ways still eleven years old and reckoning with the fact that there are other "freaks" and "degenerates" like me in the world. I don't know why I feel like I still need to earn my place here, to be worthy of this home away from the Dursleys. Maybe if I'm useful enough strong enough powerful enough willing enough enough enough enough—they won't send me back.

I still can't believe you are now on the very short list of people I've met to tell me that I don't have to be anything else; with a full household of their own, the Weasleys did more than enough to nurture and love me, but I let myself slip through the cracks, to not be needy, to eat and smile, and to accept and return their love whenever it was given.

But despite Molly and Arthur's best efforts, I didn't have parents to tell me that I was special no matter what. So I guess I'm glad one of us, at least, had one parent alive and willing to teach us that we reach the minimum requirement for love just by breathing.

You're not my father. You're not my mind healer. You're my boyfriend, and I'm sorry if there are times that I make you feel like your job is bigger than that. I know, you'd tell me that I'm not a burden, and I'm starting to realize that, but Draco I don't expect you to carry my burdens for me. I will go to you with my problems, as I hope you still do with me, but I don't need you to do more than love me, as you do.

You're enough, too.

Enough to love me in a way that still takes my breath away, and enough to receive it in return. Enough to be one of the people in my life who make it all worth it, to be worth fighting for. Worth saving, and saving myself for.

I save myself for, well, me. But also for you. And Ron and Hermione, and the Weasleys, and Teddy and Andromeda, for my parents. I save myself every day, and I think that, alone, is all the heroism I need.

It's enough, for me.

Yesss that’s such a cool concept! I love using songs as my inspiration

Thank you for the tag Ravena <3 @ravena-wrote

Last Line Challenge

(Basically its where you reblog with the last line of a story or poetry you're currently writing)

Okay please, this is dark though. It's from a fic I'm writing-

God okay, here goes-

"Boys only want love if it's torture," she sung, her voice coming out in whispers, breaths hitting his bare restrained thighs; a steel knife dropped it's reflection on his thigh and as it dripped blood, "Don't, say I didn't, say I didn't-" the knife pierced the skin and the person whimpered through a ball gag, "-warn you," she fixed him with glare.

I'm tagging @emikadreams and @myopicmeerkat and whoever who writes and finds this.

Helloooo

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy (but only if you want to)! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifs (anonymously if you want). You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity ♡

This is such a wonderful idea! Here are 5 things that make me happy in no particular order :)

1. A really good book

2. The smell of fresh cut grass

3. My dog sage who I love an extreme amount

4. Slam poetry (any type of poetry actually)

5. Spending time with the people I love!

Thank you so much for this fun and positive ask! Answering it really put me in a better mood 💜💚

The room remains silent as they gather their scattered paperwork off of the table. Harry’s just sliding his papers onto the back counter when he feels a warm hand clasp his shoulder. He turns into it and Draco is there, looming over him. Harry tries not to notice the way their tussle has loosened Draco’s braid and left his hair falling over his face in gentle waves. He looks softer like that, reminiscent of youth.

“You’re in my way Potter,” Draco tightens his grip on Harry’s shoulder and tries to shove him to the side. Harry digs his heels in, succeeds in remaining still.

“On the contrary I think you're in mine,” Harry responds coolly, “Why are you here anyways, at my job, in my ministry? I think it’s time you leave.”

“I like it here in London,” Draco says, his tone bored, “I missed my friends, and my mother’s sick. She needs me. You don’t own the place you know. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” He pauses briefly, a glint in his eyes, “Or you know you could quit, leave your precious Ministry in my hands.”

“Like hell I will,” Harry growls back, “I don’t give a shit about your presence.”

Draco inches closer, so close Harry can feel the body heat radiating off of him. His gray eyes look lighter now, almost playful, his lips shape into a more genuine smile, “Oh please Harry, you’ve been watching me all day. I bet you didn’t read a single word of your silly little case file.”

“You’re just self obsessed Malfoy. I was very focused on my reading.” Harry hopes Draco doesn’t hear the tiny tremor in his voice.

“Oh?” Draco steps even closer, caging Harry in against the counter behind him. Harry’s throat goes dry, his lungs feel tight like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “Then what was your case about?”

And, Harry should know because he’s spent two weeks on the case they’re talking about. He’s spent hours on it, named suspects, even chased several through the streets and yet now, when it’s most important he draws a blank. Draco’s eyes are fixed on his face and there’s tension in the set of his shoulders, a twist in the shape of his lips. He looks like a wolf who’s caught it’s prey, like he’s waiting for Harry to give in.

One of my fav excerpts from my new fic Inexplicable Things