I still feel like I'm new to all this, it's hard to believe I finished my first bind two years ago. But then I look at that bind and realize, yeah, I've come pretty far. 😅
I wish I could come up with some stats easily, I love stats, but I haven't been great about tracking how many binds I've done. And for some I've done several copies. So obviously I've made many more books than just the number of my tumblr posts would indicate.
But here are some favorites from the past 12 months (images link to posts):
Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu
Steinway!verse by @toomuchplor
Close Behind by @oflights
22 Cards by peu_a_peu
First Watch of Night by @tackytigerfic
Collected Cricklets by @cricketnationrise
All Our Gifts At Once or, the Young Sea-Man by @tiltedsyllogism
Drarry as written by GallaPlacidia
Soulmates by @dodgerkedavra
Okay I have to make myself stop here or I'll just list every bind I made in the past year! But it makes me happy that so many of my binds make me happy!
Also, I have a few that I'm really excited about that haven't made it to their recipients yet, so this is definitely not exhaustive.
I just got back from a trip to London where I bought a lot of bookcloth and beautiful paper, so I am very much looking forward to making more beautiful books with my new supplies!
Fanfic Classics Series ⏳🪐🌌 This batch of fanfiction deals with the multiverse!!! Time travel!!! Imminent thoughts about life and death!! Past lives and dreams of a future together — get ready to witness a love for the ages.
the earth from a distance by spqr
A Beginner’s Guide to the Afterlife by mcsyndrome
Us, infinite (unfortunately) by @thecouchsofa
"An Emerald In The Sky" by @corvuscrowned
In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites
Our Little Life by @tackytigerfic
Dwelling by aideomai
there will be time, there will be time by @amywaterwings
Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks. by orphan_account
Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet
The Star Splitter by @oflights
art credits + some cover commentary under the cut :)
I had a lot of fun finding/using artworks with circles, lines, and shapes to symbolize different worlds/universes and/or the passage of time...
Artworks used, in order:
"Several Circles" by Wassily Kandinsky (1926)
"To all appearances, it was a hand of flesh and blood just like my own" by Odilon Redon (1896) — A ghostly hand that fits the plot. The artwork's title goes with the fic so well too...
"(#2) (from series, Quantum)" by Garo Antreasian (1966)
"The story of the sun, moon, and stars (1898)" by Agnes Giberne — inspired by the summary "Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles." The original artwork comes with a caption 'Stars whose distances are well-known'... I really feel that it fits since Draco was named after a constellation... Also, the star-circles have numbers on them, which could be interpreted as H/D through different ages...
Max Brückner’s Collection of Polyhedral Models (1900) — Exploring different parallel universe versions of yourself... the more things change, the more they stay the same.
"Construction (SM lg71)" by László Moholy-Nagy (1924) — some mild spoilers for the fic! inspired by the phrases "...plot a path through the many universes such that he would never die." / "flickering through timelines? Just getting glimpses, really" .
"Fish Magic" by Paul Klee (1925)
"The Terrace at Saint-Germain, Spring" by Alfred Sisley (1875)
"Arrival of the Normandy Train, Gare Saint-Lazare" by Claude Monet (1877)
"Charing Cross Bridge: Fog on the Thames" by Claude Monet (1903) — referenced in the fic. i try to pay attention!
"Boy with Kite" by Candido Portinari (1947) — Harry is a precious little lamb. more elaboration here
i’ve been making penguin classics-style covers for fics i have saved on my kindle, as inspired by zeziliazink and bubu0h’s works!
Hi! This is a longish fic I read on AO3. It was some kind of multiverse fic where Draco is sent to privet drive and saves Harry from the Dursleys. He brings him home and corrects his eyesight and raises him without telling Harry. He’s afraid Harry will be upset but he loves him for it. Maybe Theo is the doctor who fixes baby Harry and is obliviated? It was someone Draco had dated. Thank you.
We believe you are looking for The Star Splitter by oflights (219k, E)
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Bloodweave Inn New Year’s Prompts Day 2: Growing Old Together
written for @bloodweaveinn’s New Year’s Prompt Challenge! I rolled a 2 this time, which means my prompt was Growing Old Together. i wasn't really feeling it until a little while ago and just kind of knocked this out in 20 minutes lol. i'm a little late but oh well! it was fun.
enjoy just under 1k words of extremely sappy established bloodweave, post-cure for astarion's vampirism. 😌
“Is that a gray hair?”
Astarion’s outraged cry draws Gale out of his reading, and he looks over the top of glasses at him with a slightly distracted “Hm?”
“Look!” Astarion insists, jabbing his finger at both the mirror—where his reflection can now be found, and though it’s been nearly a year since finding Astarion’s cure, Gale still can’t help looking upon it with pride and affection—and at the top of his head. “I’m going gray, Gale.”
Gale blinks at him, then squints. Astarion huffs automatically, an instinctive response to Gale squinting and a result of the Great Glasses War of 1494 DR, which Gale had summarily lost.
Eager to draw Astarion’s attention from his squinting—gods forbid he make Gale get a thicker pair of lenses—Gale hastily says, “Astarion, your hair is already gray. What are you talking about?”
Astarion gasps. His eyes, luminous and green-gold, as pride-inducing as his reflection, go very wide.
“How dare you. My hair is white blond! It’s platinum! It’s not gray, you heathen.”
“My love,” Gale says soothingly, setting his book aside and holding out two placating arms. “Come here. Let me see it.”
Grumbling, and with one more pouting glance into the mirror, Astarion slinks over, as graceful and lithe as ever. He fits himself into Gale’s lap with fluid motions Gale could never hope to replicate, and he butts the crown of his head into Gale’s chin, not unlike a cat. Gale hides a grin over the top of his head.
“Look. It’s awful.”
Gale truly cannot see any bit of what has Astarion so upset, but he kisses the crown of his head anyway, taking off his damnable glasses with some relief. “It’s not awful,” Gale says into Astarion’s beautiful, soft hair. “It’s lovely, because it’s on you, and you are the loveliest elf I’ve ever seen.”
“Just the loveliest elf?”
“Being. Humanoid. Immortal or mortal.” At that, Gale tips Astarion’s face up by the chin, gazing down at him adoringly. “You are as gorgeous as the day I met you. Gray hairs and all.”
“Hairs, plural? Did you see another one?” Astarion scrambles to get up and go for the mirror again, but Gale draws him into a kiss first, sighing as he settles down in his lap again.
“What’s so bad about grays, anyway?” Gale asks when they break apart, smiling when Astarion, eyes closed, chases his mouth a bit. Astarion huffs, the scent of their shared dinner—some nice, bloody red steaks; Astarion still has a taste for it, and he’s as bad as Gale is about eating his vegetables—hitting Gale’s nose and making it wrinkle. “You like my grays, don’t you? You certainly admire them enough.”
As if to prove Gale’s point, Astarion’s hand goes up into Gale’s hair, sifting through what are surely more bountiful gray streaks now. Just as there are more wrinkles in his face, more pronounced crow’s feet and laughter lines, and a softer, chubbier frame as their adventure days have fallen behind them. Astarion has lavished each of these features with so much love and approval that Gale has had barely any room to ever feel self-conscious about them.
“Of course I do; your grays are beautiful,” Astarion says. “You’re aging like a fine wine, my dear, and I’m—well, I’m just aging, aren’t I?” He says it like it’s just occurred to him, a bit wondrous, and also a bit sullen.
“Of course you are, though much, much more slowly than you seem to think,” Gale says. “Slower than I am, naturally. We both know this. It’s a good thing, isn’t it? Part of your cure?”
“But I’m no distinguished professor like you; my looks are like your brains,” Astarion tells him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it when I start looking like Jaheira, gods.”
“Jaheira is beautiful—oh, stop, you know what I mean,” Gale says as Astarion scowls. “And you are much, much more than your looks. Which are still beautiful.”
“You have to say that. Your opinion is biased.”
“Is my opinion not the most important, after yours?”
Astarion eyes him carefully, as if genuinely judging Gale’s sincerity. Gale tries not to huff back at him—he’d put a garlic sauce over his own steak tonight, which Astarion still doesn’t care for.
“You’re certain you’ll love me even when I look like a withered old crone?”
Gale tips his head back. “Astarion, I’ll love you until the day I die. And not to be depressing, but you must understand that I’ll be a withered old crone long before you will. I probably won’t live to see you that old.” He strokes the back of his hand over Astarion’s face, the lines that are there, and feels a bit of sweet, sad longing over that fact. He sees it reflected on Astarion’s face, in the sudden droop of his ears. “So don’t worry—I’ll be old and wrinkly and gray all over, and you’ll still be my pretty young thing.”
“Gods, you’re right,” Astarion says, aghast. He settles further into Gale’s hold, shaking his head. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”
“About what?”
“The whole thing where even though I’m cured of vampirism, you’re still going to die first. I don’t approve of that. That’s our next project. Ugliness notwithstanding—I do want to grow old with you.”
Warmth suffuses Gale at that, and he places another helpless kiss in Astarion’s beautiful, soft, and yes, gray hair.
“We’ll see what we can do,” Gale says, and he picks up his book again and starts squinting down at it, his love in one arm.
“Gale,” Astarion murmurs against his neck, breath ghosting out against the old bite scars.
“Hm?”
“Put your glasses on.”
With a laugh and a sigh, Gale complies; he supposes they both have their vanities.
ahhh i'm psyched you're doing the trope mashups!! what about 7 and 8?
THANK YOU DARLING AAAAAA with the Florist + Hospital AU LETS GO WITH harry in his everyone-has-told-me-i-have-to-be-an-auror-therefore-i-must-be-and-everyone-who-loves-me-can-see-i-hate-it-except-me phase getting sent to st. mungos every other week vs florist-draco-who-delivers-medicinal-bouquets-to-the-hospital-who-just-received-a-request-from-luna-to-deliver-to-an-anonymous-patient MEET CUTE!!!
and draco enters the room like
harry tears his wound open because he stood up too fast and requires another full day at the hospital LMFAO
Tags: Kid Fic, Ghosts, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Ghostbuster Harry Potter, Halloween 👻
There, standing—floating—across the room is an elderly woman with stringy gray hair, papery skin, and a lovely paisley shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She is staring out the window. A light dusting of snow had fallen that morning and the sunlight seems to glow off it, through the glass, and through the woman, because she is clearly noncorporeal.
She looks back at Harry, her eyes crinkled but her mouth set firm and sad, maybe a little stubborn. Harry remembers what Nearly Headless Nick told him once about ghosts, about being afraid to face death, choosing instead to remain as an imprint. He remembers being afraid to face death and doing it anyway.
Harry smiles at the woman, and feels abruptly saddened by how surprised she is in response.
“Hi,” he says, gentle. “I’m Harry. You must be Ruthie.”
Harry steps all the way into the room and closes the door behind him.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Carey ‘W’Recs Wednesday(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ presents:
we have heard on high
oflights @oflights
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger,Madam Rosmerta/George Weasley, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Getting Together, Dating, Chocolatier Draco Malfoy, Woodcutter Harry Potter, Chocolate, Trees, Flowers, Singing, Ferret Draco Malfoy, Tree Sex, Drinking, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, H/D Erised 2023, Christmas Carols, Tattooed Harry Potter, Sectumsempra Scars (Harry Potter), Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)Language: English Collections: H/D Erised 2023 Words: 34,734
Summary:
Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it's Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn't seem to know they're soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.
(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*⁺˚. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆
Excerpt:
“You really are cute as a ferret,” Harry says later. The shop is closed for the night, poor Benjamin has finally been sent home, and Draco has let Harry into the back kitchen, where he’s putting trays of chocolate in the cold cupboard to chill for the night.
Draco gives him a glare, but it seems perfunctory, and after a moment where Harry realizes he’s assessing whether he means it, he tips his nose in the air with a sniff. “Of course I am. Much cuter than that weasel.”
“Well—”
“I can quite easily throw you out of here, you know.”
“There’s no question that you’re cuter than weasel George,” Harry says, finding he means it as he says it. Draco looks assessing again, before turning back to spelling a few molds clean, and Harry watches with delight as a flush crawls up the back of his neck.
He sidles up to the counter, leaning his hip against it and crowding in close. Draco hastily brings out a stack of chocolate bars, shiny and crisp, fanning them across a marble cutting board, concentrating very hard on that as Harry leans in further.
“I’m a bit biased, of course,” Harry says, voice lowered carefully. That back-of-the-neck flush is so close now, and Harry can see it spreading up to Draco’s cheeks.
“Oh?” Draco asks, just the tiniest bit of a shake in his voice. Harry nods, and he thinks Draco can feel it; a particularly unruly lock of his hair brushes the side of Draco’s face.
“Right. Because we’re—well, I’d like—you’re my boyfriend, aren’t you? So of course I think you’re cuter.”
Draco sucks in a breath, and Harry feels that. He watches Draco carefully, can see the smallest twitches in his face at this distance, the way he bites his bottom lip. His hand has the slightest tremor as he picks up a nearby knife and begins chopping up the chocolate bars one by one, steadying as he goes.
“Am I your boyfriend, then?” he asks, eyes rapt on the chocolate. Harry finds himself following his gaze for a moment, watching the chocolate break into shards, listening to the satisfying snaps of the pieces and taps of the knife.
“I’d like you to be,” Harry says, and he looks back at Draco’s face when the knife pauses. Still careful, he adds, “Do you want to be?”
At this point, Draco has kissed him, snogged him, held his hand; he’s dated him rather thoroughly. He’s agreed to all of Harry’s suggestions and propositions and he’s offered some of his own. But he hasn’t outright said how he feels about Harry, and while it’s clear he’s been enjoying himself, Harry finds he needs to hear something real.
Harry knows what he’s asking—are you here with me? He doesn’t want to fall on his own again, not for the one person meant to fall for him in return.
Draco looks down at his chopped-up chocolate pieces. He sets the knife down, and Harry’s nearly disappointed; he loves watching Draco work, will treasure this extended look at it.
But the disappointment clears quickly when Draco twists to the side a bit, facing Harry. He lifts his chin almost defiantly when he says, “Yes. I think I’d like that.”
“Oh, I know you will,” Harry says, and he cups Draco’s cheek and brings his face lower so he can kiss him.
Draco moves his whole body into the kiss, pressing against Harry head to toe. Harry’s back digs into the counter a bit but he can’t possibly mind the position, sandwiched as he is by Draco’s warmth, his lovely scent and the soft, plush press of his mouth on his. He’s open and inviting, and Harry’s almost giddy when they break apart a moment, his smile uncontrollable.
“You’re my boyfriend, then?”
Draco nods, swallowing hard a moment, before saying, “I am. And you’re mine.”
“I am. Merlin, that’s terrific.”
Harry can feel the heat that spreads over Draco’s face at that; he absolutely treasures it. He kisses along the tops of Draco’s pink cheeks, plants something particularly wet and loud on Draco’s jaw, and feels like he’s got Felix Felicis running through his veins when Draco lets out a soft little laugh.
“You’re absurd,” Draco tells him, and Harry just grins back at him until Draco leans in and starts the kiss up again.
