#themagicianshhe

[yourtinseltinkerbell]

He brings their lips together again. They kiss like they always have. Like this is their world, that they built together, and are still shaping with their own two hands, always. It’s beautiful work. A beautiful life, that they’ve just started to live.

—my verse distills your truth by thelucindac & yourtinseltinkerbell

[three-course-fillorian-feast]

Every time they drank, which was fairly often, Quentin would find a way to curl into Eliot’s lap, nosing at the space behind his ear or biting at his jaw or—in one case—straight up sticking his hands down his trousers, until Eliot fell apart and gave in. Which admittedly…

  Never took long.

Over and over, in any dark corner they could find, they kissed and bit and licked and  touched each other, until clothes and inhibitions were forgotten like their drinks left on the coffee table. And after a few weeks of these clandestine hookups, they had started migrating to Eliot’s bedroom, for further and far more intensive exploration, brought on by the all-consuming need to fuck each other’s brains out for hours.

  It had been a logistical consideration.  

- My Lonely Heart Calls by @hmgfanfic​ / graphics by @three-course-fillorian-feast

[myselfmysame]

a souvenir from the only show press he'd ever seemed to give a shit about (Act I, Scene 2)

from scenes from an unfinished story (told by the lost and found) by @freneticfloetry for @themagicianshhe

[unresolvednothing]

My art for the wonderful fic found here: When the World’s Unkind

Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed drawing for it.

@themagicianshhe​

[gil-estel]

My contributions to @themagicianshhe, illustrating @disasterbiquentin ’s excellent fic, I’d be the last shred of truth (in the lost myth of true love)

[three-course-fillorian-feast]

“No, no, no,” Quentin laughed, the sound humorless. He spun his arms around and around, like two graceless propellers. “I mean,  this. What is  this? What is all  this?”

Eliot was at a loss. “It’s air.”

“No, it’s not, it’s—” Quentin froze, nostrils flaring impossibly wider. “Shit. You’re not actually—wow, okay. This isn’t—wow,  okay. Okay.”

“Do you need a granola bar?” Eliot pursed his lips. “Or some water? Electrolytes?”

“People don’t get dehydrated as often as you think they get dehydrated, Eliot,” Quentin snapped. “Sometimes it’s other shit.”

- My Lonely Heart Calls by @hmgfanfic​ / graphics by @three-course-fillorian-feast

[three-course-fillorian-feast]

Eliot tilted his head toward the sky, shook away the haze of an easily forgotten daydream, and breathed in the wonder of his life.

The cotton candy clouds passed between the towering steel giants. Music floated over the streets. Perfect strangers smiled, dressed in the classic New York uniform of jewel tones and soft pastels. The trees dotting the sidewalk burst with vivid color, orange and gold and red, hearkening the beginning of the very best season in the very best city.

- My Lonely Heart Calls by @hmgfanfic / graphics by @three-course-fillorian-feast

[yourtinseltinkerbell]

   A tiny infinity later, Quentin asks, “How long do I get you for?”    The first thing Eliot starts to say, before he bites his tongue and stops himself, is “forever.”    And as far as he tries shoving the thought down, as much as he knows he doesn’t have the right to say it, or the power to make it true, it still bobs right back up to the surface anyway. Now that his parents and Fen and all of fucking “high society” are leagues away, there’s nothing to stop his desperate longings. He wants to be with him tomorrow, and the next day, and for all time after. He wants to spend months just holding his hand, years buried in the tight heat of his body, decades delving into his mouth and nipping and kissing and sucking and worshipping his lips, and a lifetime hearing his voice. Greedy bastard that he is, that’s still not enough. He wants to declare to the universe that he’s going to be with Quentin long after they’re dead and gone. He wants to be wrapped up in his soul for all time, like that old couple in the myth, where Jupiter and Mercury transform them into intertwined trees.

—my verse distills your truth by thelucindac & yourtinseltinkerbell