#lgbthpnet

[spierfeld]

@ginnydefensenet‘s creation event → canon ships: hinny

Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her. After several long moments — or it might have been half an hour — or possibly several sunlit days — they broke apart.

[nabateann]

@quidditchleaguenet event: august: house quidditch members

Marcus Flint

[crvdence]

tears are only water

thlaise drabble | 678 words | read in ao3

Every time Theo cried, he curled in a ball, wrapped up in himself, like he wanted to turn into something smaller than he was, until he disappeared. His crying was quiet and silent, simply tears streaking down his cheeks, as he was terrified of uttering any sound, the tears pooling on his chin until they fell on his fisted hands, curled on the fabric of his clothes.

And Blaise hated the fact he cried like he should be ashamed of doing so, but he understood, nevertheless. He knew they were raised differently in more than one way. He was raised by the most emotional, raw and strongest woman, his mother; but Theo was taught that tears equalled weaknesses and the real men didn't cry rubbish, and with punishments that went beyond reason when tears finally spilled down Theo's cheeks.

The funny thing was, Theo was much more of an emotional person than Blaise was, more emphatic, pure was the only adjective Blaise truly found to describe him. He was damaged, as most of them were, but Theo could have taken all that hatred and hurt he had raised up with and turn it into something evil, selfish or heartless.

But instead, Theo did the contrary thing, and Blaise always marvelled at how he grew up to be so understanding, and kind and nice, when he was raised by the monster his father was. A monster that made him self-conscious and dubious of the very things that made Theo what Theo was. The things that Blaise loved the most about him.

He was tired, and angry at seeing Theo struggling about his feelings, not at Theo but at his father. Every time Theo apologised for something he didn't have to, every time Theo stopped himself at talking about something he liked, with that shine in his eyes Blaise could lose himself into; every time he winced and stiffened when he heard a scream, or the sound of shattering glass.

Blaise didn't think a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban was punishment enough, not when Theo woke up eaten alive by flashbacks and nightmares, shivering and chocking in his own breath, scared and teary, and even so, he still tried to hold himself back in the anticipation of something worse happening.

And while staring at the transparent streaks falling down his lover's face, Blaise's mother words echoed in the back of his mind. “Tears are like the showers of the soul, caro, they cleanse you inside out. They take all the dirt, all the sadness, the bad things, and they purify them in water, and salt. Do you understand? If someone is afraid of their own tears, or the tears of others, they are someone to be wary about.”

So Blaise always took Theo in his arms, rocking him as he would rock a child, and melting in the embrace of his lover, he could literally feel Theo relaxing around him. And with his head buried in the crook of his neck, he sobbed and sobbed until he just didn't have more tears left. Blaise would thread his long fingers through his black hair, stroking his scalp, whispering words of encouragement and solace against the shell of his ear.

And it took Theo a lot of time to calm down, to stop shivering, and crying and breathing heavily, to stop clinging to Blaise's body in pure fear. And he would always look up at Blaise when he was done, his eyes swollen, his long eyelashes damp and cluttered by the tears, looking between ashamed and exhausted, and thankful.

Blaise always kissed the last of his tears away, closed, chaste kisses against Theo's eyelids, and cheeks, and chin. The first times Blaise saw Theo cry, he used to apologise profusely when he was done, but these days, all he did was to look up to his lover with an expression of pure bliss, and gratefulness in his face, leaning his eyebrow bone against Blaise's forehead, mumbling a thank you he could feel more against the skin of his nose, than actually hear it.

[ddraco]

All Harry Potter movies

1. The Philosopher’s Stone

[sapphichogwartsgirlsnet]

@sapphichogwartsgirlsnet get to know the members: faith → created by @ginnyweaslcy

But then again, if we're not friends, Someone else might love you too. And then again, if we're not friends, There'd be nothing I could do (x)

[blackregulus]

do you want to learn how to make edits, but don’t know where to start? do you already make edits but find they only get 2 notes? or do you make edits that routinely get hundreds of notes and are interested in helping others?

welcome to mentor.psd, a mentor/student network for teaching users how to make successful edits. this network is open to all users from any fandom on any editing program.

how to join;

follow the network blog would be nice if you followed me (optional) reblog this post fill out this typeform (important: this is how i will go through members so be sure to fill it out or else i will not see your entry!) have a discord, or be willing to get discord (this is where our groupchat will take place) mentors only: you must average at least 400 notes on your edits, and have at least 1 edit over 1k notes

what i’m looking for;

dedicated tumblr users blogs that show commitment (ie, a nice theme) friendly bloggers (drama free zone)

what you get;

a network full of talented, experienced graphic makers to get advice from a spot on our members page a chance to improve your work - even for mentors, there’s always room for improvement a place to share your work

finishing touches;

applications close on July 15 i will be picking between 20-30 members as stated above, this is a drama-free net. you will be kicked if you start any. if you have a problem with someone, take it up outside of the net. if you don’t get accepted first time around, don’t worry, applications will open up again in the future. follow the network blog for updates on when.

happy applying!

[vanillasweet]

“We won the war,” they say.

Harry isn’t inclined to agree. How can they say that when former Death Eaters are still being persecuted, when their children are being outcasted for something out of their control?

He sees Draco Malfoy’s child, Scorpius, sitting in the front of the class, keeping to himself, and feels his heart break. He hears the jibes that the other students, his own students, throws at the poor boy, and it makes him angry. A punishment is enough for the offenders, he thinks, because they’re still young. They have time to learn. The parents, he knows, are the ones who won’t change. He sees it in their eyes, the way a haunted expression washes over and clouds their judgment. It’s frustrating to see that all his efforts didn’t change anything at all.

“I didn’t fight a war for this,” he wants to scream, “I didn’t risk my life just for another group to be discriminated against.”

“Why didn’t you marry Ginny?” they ask.

Harry’s tired of people asking. Molly’s a lovely person, the mother figure that he never had, but she doesn’t understand. Marriage wasn’t the answer, not at the time. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming in terror. He would flinch at the sight of a wand pointed at him, whether it is with good intentions or not, and would have to fight the urge to draw his own wand. His eyes would dart around a place, searching for exits, even if he knew it to be safe. For a time, his hand never strayed far from his holster, fingertips always in contact touch with the wand in case of an attack.

 Harry knew that he wasn’t stable, that he needed time, time alone, to heal his scars (if they ever did heal). Ginny wasn’t happy about that, not understanding his exact struggle, and thus they had to separate.

“I was broken,” he whispers softly, “I am broken. Can’t you see?”

“How can you forgive him?” they wonder.

Harry just does. Draco had apologized and offered to repay a Life-Debt, but Harry refuses. The past is in the past and there’s no use in dwelling on it. Draco had been young and he made all the wrong choices. Harry wasn’t going to fault him for doing what he thought was right. He’s just happy that Draco had changed, seeing the error in his ways.

It did, however, come as a surprise when Draco came to him after his classes had ended with flowers in hand. They had been talking more and more with Draco constantly checking up on Scorpius. It’s cute, Harry thinks, but he keeps that to himself.

“To apologize again?” Harry asks bemusedly. Draco hasn’t sent an apology gift in a while, but he couldn’t for the life of him think why Draco would get him flowers.

Draco shakes his head. “No.” His cheeks are dusted a light pink. “To ask you out on a date.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” he replies. “And to answer your question, how can I not?”

“You deserve better,” they patronize.

Harry’s response is quick and sweet.

“And, I got it.” He smirks and walks away to where Draco and Scorpius are waiting.

[blacksistrs]

the future is f e m a l e, and the past was too!