I shoulda predicted this, absurdly crying to the point of projectile puking at 6 am, after booking a ticket for my grandma’s funeral
Tag: irl
abject apathy
I’m drunkish making potato skins from scratch in just a sports bra and booty shorts. I’ve lost a lotta weight lately.
Why the fuck did my therapist ask what I think about the afterlife
I love my friends
Me on the phone: I’m driving home from therapy.
My mom: There’s an increased risk of people getting in car accidents or tripping/falling when they’re stressed!!
Me: K Imma go run down a pedestrian byeeee!
Mom: Very funny.
Me: I know
Pretty sure my grandma is gonna die tomorrow
Oh no I—wait it’s midnight, not noon, and that was a dream. Gotcha.
Child why are you masturbating at school
I’m sad and I’m mean
I wish you would write a fic where Harry Potter is happy and healed from the atrocities and manipulations of his past
Well, shit, my friend. I will do that thing.
as I have been done
Notes:
Prompt:
I wish you would write a fic where Harry Potter is happy and healed from the atrocities and manipulations of his past
Me: Well, shit, my friend. I will do that thing. Here you go.
——–
All was well.
Well, not all was well, because life is life, of course, but things were good. Harry taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he took his tea with just a bit of milk while sitting with the rest of the staff at the Head Table, and Dudley’s daughter Tala even looked at him with pride from the Hufflepuff table from time to time.
He had looked death in the face, and he was better for it.
He avoided death, after that. He needed nothing of it, because he understood. He wasn’t scared, not anymore.
Instead, he loved.
He loved with everything inside him, loved fiercely and wholly.
Harry didn’t just live. He loved, and he loved entirely.
He loved his mother and father, and he loved Ginny and their children, and he loved Ron, Hermione, and their children, too.
He loved his enemies.
He loved himself.
All was well.
We all are stardust 