Genderbent Modern Au

this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*

ngl one of the main reasons i ship romione is because hermione got a cat that is the cat version of ron

May Daily micros. Prompt 12: bear

Ongoing story. Prev parts: 1. key 2.black 3. coffee 4. pathetic 5.hang 6.floral 7. swell 8.crystal 9. puzzled 10. scene 11. forgotten

It was the very first thing that struck Harry about Malfoy—the snowy white of his hair, the sickly pallor of his skin, the colourless gleam of his eyes. It would have been obvious to anyone.

But Harry was eleven. He didn’t have words for these things. He wasn’t worldly. Far from it.

All he knew was that he couldn’t look away.

And then the boy opened his pale, thin mouth—and ruined it.

After that he couldn’t bear him. His pureblood sneering and his bloodless, icy appearance. 

Couldn’t bear any of it. And yet... he kept on looking.

There’s a reason why enemies to friends to lovers is my favorite trope.

get sugared (bamboozlers edition)

So within two days of each other, Fox News writes an article comparing aromanticism and asexuality to pedophilia, and then Matt Walsh releases a video saying asexuality is a mental illness and asexuals are tricking teenagers into having depression.

Not sure what’s going on right now over in Conservative World, but it’s a hell of wild U-turn for them to suddenly switch from “Oh no! The left is sexualizing our children!” to “Oh no! The left is asexualizing our children!”

Yule ‘94

VIII. Crystal

<- previous

Turned out having breakfast with Harry Potter also meant having dinner with him.

The bastard eased Draco into it. “I’m making curry tonight, you want some?”

Spiraling out of his control, Draco went from rarely seeing Potter to twice a day. Potter’s cooking being just as good at night as it was in the morning was the only upside. 

The rising daylight was accompanied by, what Draco regrets to acknowledge, was amiable silence as they prepared for the arduous days ahead of them. The nighttime was accompanied by actual conversations. It start menially: a bunch of “how was your day?”s and “who do you think will win Quidditch?”. Then Potter would bring up a memory from their eight year and Draco would start gossiping about their old classmates.

On it went, from polite chatter to affable talk then friendly banter—or from an outside perspective: verbal war. 

“You almost murdered me once,” followed by: “Like you wouldn’t’ve.”

“You were a prick in school,” proceeded by: “You weren’t?”

One night they finished eating and Potter asked, “You want a drink?”

Draco, exhausted and always susceptible to alcoholic bribes, said yes.

Potter took out firewhisky from the liquor cabinet and poured it into two matching crystal cups.

Their conversations reached their inevitable climax: quasi-flirtation. Perhaps it was the heat from the liquor—the heat radiating off of Potter—but the air felt tight-knit with tension. It might have been Draco’s imagination warping the way Potter smirked around his glass. The light from the room refracted off the crystal somehow made his green eyes shine even brighter.

“Draco,” his name coming out of Potter’s lips sounded indecent, like intruding on a tender moment. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Draco pretended he said it with sober fondness and not drunken impulse. He allowed himself this one thing.

next ->

prompt list previous days

BABIES

are they even drarry if they don’t beat the shit out of each other early on

art inspired by smol harry and draco after their squabble in When We Were Angels, Chapter 2 by @soliblomst ♥︎