#ach-queue

hey study babies!!!! im doing an AMA right now so ask me any question you want no matter how weird it is!! 

love,

story cover for Howling At the Dog Star, the lives of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin

1971: they meet on the Hogwarts Express. Remus thought that Sirius was a funny name, but it matched his funny gray eyes. 1972: Remus's secret had been revealed by then, but not one of his friends thought any less of him. 1973: Sirius decides that "Moony" is an excellent nickname for his friend. Remus may also be blushing a bit more often than normal when around Sirius, but Remus decides it's nothing at all and ignores it. 1975: One fateful day in Potions, Professor Slughorn has them brewing Amortentia. Sirius is Remus's partner, and when they're finished, Remus is struck by the fact that the potion smells like Sirius. 1976: They kiss.

read it on ao3 or fanfiction.net. each chapter is a short but feels-packed ride, varying from tooth-rotting fluff to heart-wrenching sadness.

an excerpt from chapter sixty-four of For In Dreams.

Dawlish took a deep gulp of his tea, wishing that the warmth of it would manage to pierce the cold that had already set up residence in his chest. He hated shifts at Azkaban, more especially he hated that he had babysit a rookie while at Azkaban. It was like life had personally taken one look at him and decided that dumping shit luck on him was its favorite form of entertainment. “Bloody cold,” muttered Pierce. “’Course it’s bloody cold, it’s fuckin’ Azkaban,” Dawlish snapped. “I don’t even get why we’ve got to be here,” Pierce said in a grumble, his young face set in an unbecoming pout. “Aren’t the bloody Dementors enough for this place?” “We’re not here to guard the prisoners,” Dawlish grunted. “We’re here to keep an eye on the Dementors, or so Scrimgeour says.” As if to prove his point, a black cloaked figure floated past the end of their corridor, its aura causing the Warming Charm he’d just performed to fade instantly. Dawlish cast it again, then shook himself vigorously and gulped more from his tea. “What’re they gonna do, eh?” Pierce asked. “Kiss some unsuspecting sod? Let ‘em, I say. The less of this rot we’ve got, the better.” “Careful,” Dawlish growled, and Pierce looked up at him, face white. “You might have Dumbledore breathing down your neck about the falsely accused.” Pierce gave a laugh, and Azkaban managed to make even that sound off-putting. “Fair point, mate.” Dawlish stalked down the corridor, gave a glance in both directions at the intersection, and made his way to a corridor that was open to the outer air. Dawlish looked down at the ground below, at the sea of Dementors milling about the base of the dark tower, then lifted his eyes upward before turning away again. He was almost at the end of the corridor when Pierce gave a sudden gasp behind him and caused him to jump halfway out of his skin. Turning round, Dawlish aimed a glare and a scathing remark to the younger Auror. “Pierce, what the bloody hell are you on about?” Pierce grabbed his sleeve, startling Dawlish further, and tightened his grip when Dawlish made to pull away. “Look!” Pierce hissed, his other hand raising, pointing, his finger shaking. Dawlish groaned internally and turned to look, thinking to himself that the moment they got back to the ministry, he would be reporting to Rourke that Pierce wasn’t ready for Azkaban duty yet, but then his eyes found what Pierce was so afraid of.

read the rest on ao3 or fanfiction.net.

today’s moodboard: anticipation of november

who says god didn't make us queer on purpose? the sunset is bisexual clearly

today’s moodboard: badass with a pen.

today's moodboard: raise your hand if you're trash

i made a proper moodboard for raise your hand if you're trash. there are five chapters now, soon to be six, and a lot of things have happened, such as: a lot of swearing in french, confusion about sex, scaring a cashier, surprise cuddle attacks, and more. (in other words this is shameless self-promotion so know that i have raised my hand)

In a world with smartphones and fast cars instead of magic and mighty horses, the University of Endor is a progressive, liberal arts college; progressive in that they hire gay teachers and allow co-ed dorms, at least. The Fellowship of the Third House on the Left consists of twelve students: two sets of siblings, three sets of friends, six sets of people who were meant for each other, even if a few of them have figured it out so far. In other words: Aragorn is trying very hard to be serious, Arwen is trying very hard to not be. Boromir wants to wave his platinum card around while he still can, Éomer wants to have fun in his last year of university. Gimli has a fondness for hate sex but maybe he wants a little more, Legolas is afraid of what could happen. Éowyn is actually trying to focus on her studies thank you, Faramir is just too ruggedly handsome. Merry and Pippin are just there to have sex and fuck shit up, and Frodo and Sam are just there for the cuddles.

check out the story on ao3, i'm moonythejedi!

hello lovelies. i'm off in the wilderness for a week for summer camp! i'm sure by the time this posts i will be filled with joy bc i'll be in one of my favorite places on earth, but i won't be back to an internet connection for a whole week. until then, everything is queued, but i've scheduled one new moodboard to post everyday until friday.

today's moodboard: a cozy witch aesthetic. (is me in my favorite place on the planet when you go outside yOU CAN SEE THE STARS OKAY I CAN'T SEE THEM AT HOME THERE'S TOO MUCH LIGHT POLUTION)