Erik, No. @cherikyes - Tumblr Blog

James McAvoy as Cyrano & Eben Figueiredo as Christian NATIONAL THEATRE LIVE: CYRANO DE BERGERAC (2019) | part 1

Inside Erik's coat.

Hi! I am not active in the Harry Potter fandom, but I support my partner who likes to write in it. I'd like to make clear that we do not support JK Rowling, we do not give her money in any way. We support trans people, my partner is trans. We are of the belief that the fandom belongs to the fans and not the writer anymore wrt Harry Potter

That said, this is a cherik blog, for re blogging Cherik stuff, and sometimes posting my own Cherik stuff. Harry Potter is very occasionally mentioned because I support my partner's passion and writing.

This blog does not support racism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, or any of that nonsense.

Anyways, back to Cherik stuff 💕

#my post

beloved-child-of-the-house

It's the savoury smell of supper cooking that brings Draco out of his reverie. He's being beckoned as surely as if Harry were striking a dinner bell. Draco's stomach growls audibly, and he presses one cold, stiff hand to his gut quellingly. The light in his workshop is failing, and there's a weary tightness behind his eyes and an ache in his back from bending over the bench all day. He rises from his stool and stretches, reaching up toward the low ceiling with his fingertips and turning his head slowly from side to side til his spine cracks and his elbows pop.

Then Draco points his wand at the cauldron fire and murmurs the incantation to lower the flames to hot orange embers and hold the potion at a low, steady simmer until he returns to his work in the morning. He covers the cauldron with its heavy pewter lid, and the remaining curls of silver steam dissipate in the cool, close air of his basement workshop. It takes rather a long time to pack away his ingredients, painstakingly tucking every strand and fibre of stray unicorn hair into the silk envelope with its fellows, scraping up crumbs of powdered lavender and flecks of mica dust back into their vials, re-waxing the cork on his flask of dragon's blood against evaporation.

Draco has a potioneer's horror of wasting ingredients, compounded by the remoteness of their situation up in the mountains. They can't spare the floo powder for frequent trips to resupply. What they've had has been carefully budgeted to restock their provisions throughout their stay and for their return trip. It won't be much longer now. The moon is earlier and earlier each night. The solstice is very near.

When his ingredients are put back where they belong, he organises his notes into a tidy stack, pausing once or twice to scratch an amendment or clarification. Then he carefully takes the golden ring out of the pocket of his work apron where he's hidden it, and tucks it into an inner pocket of his robes. He still doesn't quite have the words he needs, but he can't bear to have the ring away from him for too long. Maybe it will inspire him, bring the right phrases to the surface of his mind so that he can scoop them out like river stones and offer Harry something worth having.

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Excerpt from my new fic A Bottomless Well. Get the rest of the story on AO3! 10k, rated E

#fic promotion #it's my partner's #xe is a very good writer #drarry #no doubt heartwarming #and very sexy

marzipanandminutiae

scars in fiction: I got this trying to save my lover from an assassin- but tragically, I was too late. now I carry the mark of my failure with me always, and I can never forget~

scars in real life: so I was trying to open macaroni sauce with a paring knife