Those tags have me 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

My man is updating his email sig to Mr Hermione Granger on his commute no doubt about it 🙂‍↔️

Just a minor crash out no big deal 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

Draco’s eyes are actually CRIMINAL I don’t know what to do with myself I’m scaling the walls of my flatttt

Her cheeks are warm against his lips??? Can you STOP??? I love ‘em 🥹🥵

It’s gorgeousssss!!! Heart-in-your-throat goodness.

I’m delusional so, to me, they’re never abandoned (unless the author specifically notes that it is and even then I don’t accept it)

I’m loooooving this fic so much, can’t wait to catch up later today 🥀

It’s pathetic.

To Theo – our fandom chameleon. I love you, I’m sorry.

On the archive: archiveofourown.org/works/65776891

People beefing with the socks have never had sex in a Glasgow tenement I can tell you that FOR FREE!!!

Sorry to insert myself, it’s The One With The Morning After (after Ross cheats/doesn’t cheat depending on how you look at it)

your hesitation to call out people fucking ONLINE means you would rather die than say anything in REAL LIFE TOO! I'm sick of the fucking mentality when you don't owe people anything. you do, actually. you really fucking do. if you want to exist in a community, if you wait around for more followers,

“These is no safety in a non-political space because it does not accommodate me. There is no safety in a non political space because it violates me, ignores me, takes comfort in dehumanizing me..” - Celine on TikTok

I’ve been thinking so hard whether I want to address this or not,

Good Morning!!!

Oh it’s not a want but a need!

Oh I loooove her, Morgan!!! My stomach flipped at ‘18 minutes’ 🤭🤭🤭

He cast his gaze to the floo and back again. Then beamed. Not an island, a lighthouse; stewarding her weary tugboat to shore.

She vanished her glass, and sailed for home.

3/3

Across the bar, stock still amongst the hazy ripples of pissed patrons, an island for friends and flirts to swell over and crash into, was Malfoy. Blonde and broad and looking at her.

2/3

Hermione swayed, adrift in a gloomy corner of the pub, curls and gut both tangled up in knots. Her cider, once crisp, had soured, turning stale on her tongue as she took another mindless, tepid sip.

1/3

Oh yeah, bluesky! Here is a little #DHr drabble for all my girlies who need to be home the SECOND their social battery runs out of juice. And the partners/friends who notice. (100 words on the dot)

No apology needed, the answer is a hard Yes. Capitalised and everything.

I don’t have time to read and leave comments on things I LIKE is this person landed gentry or something don’t you have a JOB??? HOBBIES??? RESPONSIBILITIES????

My fucking BROTHER please don’t get me started!!!!!

Up there as one of the sluttiest waists you’ve ever drawn and I don’t say that lightly!!!

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

GOOD MORNING!!!!!!!

Y’know? A little Morally Grey Luna moment? I’m stewing on it.

Having Dudley Dursley horse racing betting/Luna Lovegood Seer ‘good luck charm’ thoughts this evening.