even the quiet ones

I got tagged by @spoondragon aka the great spoondragon. Danke!

Rules: Answer the Qs and tag 9 people you want to get to know better.

How old are you? 31

Current Job? i just started working as a production manager. for a company. and i do the smallest bit of freelance illustration on the side. but i kind of feel like not an entirely failed adult atm, so that’s something.

What are you talented at? drawing. writing. and i learn things quickly? that’s really about it.

What is a big goal you are working towards (or have already achieved)?write a novel that speaks to one person who is not just me. 

What’s your aesthetic? i don’t even really know what this means. which one is the quiet, simmering rage? 

Do you collect anything? no. i have a fear of possessions. i have books, but that’s about it for a collection, and it’s pretty small. 

A topic you always talk about? politics. i could, and would love to, talk more about poverty and mental health and gender and sexuality, but irl i am not all that open.

Pet peeve? loudness. dog shit on sidewalks. overconfident shits who don’t know what they’re talking about.

Good advice? “Probably the most important thing is that when things get really bad and the world looks its darkest, you just have to throw up your hands and say “Well, alright!” cause it’s probably gonna get a whole hell of a lot worse.” Alfred Packer, Cannibal! The Musical 

“eat yer beets.” me, now

j/k it’s not even advice. it’s just all of Grandpa from Angus (1995) …actually, maybe he’s my aesthetic

Recommend 3 songs: i’m not a music person. i love it, but i’ve got none of the taste to recommend anything to anyone, so i’m going to do books, and even those will almost certainly be predictable, so like, i don’t know. 1. The Pearl that Broke Its Shell by Nadia Hashimi. 2. The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien (just reread it okay? i know you had to in high school, but do it again.) 3. Mysterious Skin by Scott Heim. and i’m stil working on it, but The Devil All the Time by Donald Ray Pollock seems like a good recommendation so far.

I will tag: @samnesmail @ramihackme @ramiiiiiiiiiiiiiii @angelasarafyanspuke @snafu-is-dying-sledge @malekscurls @ramisbooty @ramimalektbh @mrrobutt but obviously you all decide if you want to do this or not. i never post my answers to other taggy-thingies, but i’m feeling nothing tonight but alcohol.

i want to be in a band so bad it’s actually killing me. like just the thought of being in a van with my best friends, traveling across the country and making music that has the potential to inspire people to do the same thing could actually send me to the grave

can we just talk about how much exposure doyoung is getting and the talent that sm sees in him? realistically speaking, he was one of the most underrated members of nct. he didn’t have many stans starting out despite his obvious talents and love and passion for the career he has chosen. many didn’t see doyoung as the most handsome of the team, or recognize his charms. he was often forgotten but now he’s taken up solo schedules by storm. he’s mced, he’s hosted, he’s been a guest multiple times. he’s stared in an ost, and soon will be in another song collab. when people were pushing him aside, sm picked him up and plopped him in the spotlight and he has stayed there, persevering with schedules on his own. his face, his voice, his entire self has been dangled out there alone for others to debate and to garner attention towards nct. for a boy who was born to shine on stage, he has shown us that he was made for much more than singing. for the first time i can proudly say that sm made the right choice, and it was a choice that i didn’t even think would be an option back in january.

Scorpios are natural leaders, even the ones who have a quiet presence. They tend to have a clear sense of the direction whatever they are working on needs to head in. Then they use their sense of magnetism in order to get others to follow their lead. Many Scorpios do not realize that they even do this. They are not a leader who convinces others to follow them by showing off, but instead by exuding their power and stability.

Nonverbal Jack (Pt. 2 - Texting)

(part 1 here)

Overall, Jack isn’t great with technology. The exception to the rule is texting. Ever since he got his first cell phone Jack loved that he had the option to just text people. He didn’t have to actually talk to anyone. He didn’t have to spend an hour working himself up for a five-minute phone call.

His parents worried at first it would encourage him to be closed off if they just texted, but his therapist assured them it was best to let Jack communicate however he was most comfortable, as long as he was communicating. So they started a habit of texting even when in the same house, sometimes when in the same room. On weekends Jack could go a full day without saying a word out loud and he loved it. Even when he could speak he found it so much easier to find the right words when they were written instead of spoken.

Keep reading


Spinning black hole swallows star; surpasses all supernovae in brightness

“Almost every galaxy, even quiet, red ones, contain supermassive black holes at their core. When matter approaches – whether an asteroid, planet, gas cloud or a star – the incredible tidal forces stretch and pinch it, tearing it apart into a long, thin strand. Some of these black holes can rotate incredibly rapidly, causing the matter that falls in to accelerate at different rates depending on the orientation and configuration of the infall, which changes over time. The ASASSN-15lh event not only showed an ultraviolet re-brightening, but a rapid temperature spike at late times as well. If the explanation pans out, this would be the first time we’ve ever observed a rare event of this kind: a massive star disrupted and devoured by an ultramassive, rapidly spinning supermassive black hole.”

Last year, a record-shattering event occurred: we saw the brightest supernova ever observed in the Universe. It outshone the previous record holder by more than double, and it reached a peak brightness of more than 20 times the sum total of all the stars in the Milky Way galaxy. Surprisingly, it occurred in a red, quiet galaxy, rather than the bright blue ones famous for them. After 10 months of follow-up observations, it looks like it wasn’t a supernova after all. Instead of fading away, there was a rebrightening months after the peak. Instead of cooling down, something reheated the glow to even greater temperatures. The only thing that fits the data? A tidal disruption event, and even those would only work if it were a supermassive black hole that rotated more quickly than any such event ever observed before.

Come get the full spectacular story – and the science behind it – as we finally learn where the brightest event in history came from!

you remember that fight we had in highschool? we were seventeen and stubborn and swore never to talk about it again but…

there’s something i never told you.

that night, after we fought, i went out to the railroad tracks in the woods behind my house. it was about three in the morning, and i hadn’t slept a wink. my eyes hurt from stubbornly not letting myself cry over you, and all i wanted was to be alone.

so i went out there, sat on the tracks, and looked up at the night sky. everything was dark, and the cold made my knees hurt.

i was half expecting a stray doe to be there, like in stand by me? but there was no one. just me. even the moon was quiet.

and i kept my eyes on the stars as i shivered and thought about you, the fight. i finally let myself cry, and the tears were hot and stinging but didn’t warm me up any.

i remember hugging myself so tight, so desperate and sad, that i prayed. really, i did. i asked the moon and god beyond it to keep you in my life forever.

i said, “dear god, please keep link in my life. i don’t care how, and even if i never have him the way i want, i don’t care. i need him. please make sure we stay together. please don’t let this be the end.”

and i guess he heard me, small and young and stupid, wishing on a thousand north carolina stars, because here you are.

here you are.

Concept: Dana Scully lets herself into Fox Mulder’s apartment one evening. She’s quiet, sneaking in so as not to disturb him. She finds him in his bedroom, standing by the window looking out over the dark street, his silhouette illuminated by the street lights below. She saunters over, still quiet, still hoping to surprise him. When she reaches the other side of the room, draping her hands around his waist and slipping them beneath the band of his underwear all in one fluid motion, there’s a moment of shock as Alex Krycek jerks away from her touch, screaming like a little girl. Dana Scully takes all of .05 milliseconds to recompose herself and gather her mistake before pulling back and punching him square in the jaw. Fox Mulder walks through his front door approximately 1 minute later to find an unconscious Alex Krycek and an unusually apprehensive Dana Scully, never the wiser of how Alex Krycek ended up unconscious on his bedroom floor.

Sir Hugsalot

This one’s for Precious, @saved-by-the-notepad​, because she she deserves a lot of hugs and a Hugsalot of her own <3

Monsoon was a neutral season in the Avengers Tower. While summer meant hogging the pools and cribbing about sunburns, fall meant Natasha glaring at anyone talking about Halloween (Clint simply said Budapest, like that explained all of Natasha’s quirks), and spring was Thor’s paradise while the others watched out for Loki. Winter, by unspoken agreement, was nobody’s favorite.

But monsoon, that was the neutral zone. There was no rule during monsoon, except for Clint’s rules because an unleashed and unrestricted Clint was always a danger to the constantly bleak Avengers PR. Other than those, there were no rules and no set traditions that came to be. It was a quiet season, one where even the loudest ruckus was always tinged by a subdued air. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but Tony always reckoned that it was the rain that brought it. Rain was always moody to the genius; it always flitted between being playful and alive, and morose and stoic. Tony often caught Steve or Thor gazing at the windows, watching a lone raindrop trickle down. Like they were watching some invisible reflection cry.

It was a neutral zone, but not one that Tony always felt comfortable about. He knew his team well enough, despite what a suspicious Hill said, to say that they were all sad creatures wrapped in manic energy and insane power. They weren’t happy by nature, no matter what people saw in a boisterous Thor or a cheeky Clint. Or maybe they were and the job sucked that out of him. He didn’t really know. All he knew was that they had enough of rain dampening their moods on a general range.

He knew that. He also knew that it wasn’t something changeable. But it never sat well with him, as he watched them brood openly - the way he did in hiding in his workshop. 

This irk was fine as it was, if Tony’s itch for some madness hadn’t combined with it one dark evening. He had been watching Steve surreptitiously, as one does when hoping to avoid being caught red handed by the greatest crush of one’s life. The supersoldier had been gazing listlessly at the window, a sketchbook in hand and lost expression on his face. Steve’s sketches reflected his moods, Tony knew that. He also knew that at the moment, Steve’s sketches would be the personification of melancholy. 

It had been sheer dumb luck, as he would explain to Rhodey later, that Natasha and Bruce had been watching Big Hero 6 at that time. Natasha had a strange affection to animation and Bruce was the only one who never acted weird about it, so it was a routine between them to watch an animated movie on the quiet nights. 

“ Hairy baby! Hairy baaaby!”, a lilting robotic voice drew his attention to the large screen and Tony watched as a loopy Baymax petting a grumpy but purring cat with an adoring expression.

“Health care, your pers… personal Baymax companion..” the adorably drunk sounding big balloon of fluff reminded Hiro and…

Tony sat up straight and felt a lightening zing in his brain. His mind raced through the concept and its implications. A personal care provider, he thought with growing excitement. A walking marshmallow who could do the things that Tony knew his team needed but couldn’t do for them himself. The hugging and the caring and the comforting…

“Yess,” Tony hissed in excitement and raised an eyebrow when both Bruce and Natasha shushed him without looking back from their spot. Scrambling to his feet and mind already working over the idea, Tony shot one last look at a somber looking Steve and shot out of the floor with his workshop in mind.

He was going to make monsoon happy goddammit, even if he had to engineer a Disney character modification for it.


“It’s Big Foot,” Sam said after an hour of observing Tony’s masterpiece. Tony’s eye twitched and he suppressed the urge to pour his smoothie down Sam’s head with great restraint. Great restraint.

“It’s not Big Foot,” Tony said in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable tone but Sam’s raised eyebrow hinted that it wasn’t coming out too well, “It’s a StarkPal. A companion with the highest emotional, physical, and mental health care giving capability.”

“It still looks like Big Foot,” Sam shrugged and Tony shot an unrepentant Rhodey a glare from his stool for inflicting this one him. When he had asked Rhodey to come by to see his latest invention, he had not expected him to bring his new boyfriend and Tony’s not-so-secret-secret-friend-and-teammate with him. In an attempt to play civil, Tony had asked Sam for his opinion on the invention.

Biggest mistake of his life in the past three days.

“It looks non threatening,” Tony retorted and Sam shot him a wry look.

“It has an armor. It’s literally wearing an armor,” he pointed as the seven foot tall bot that had a golden armor. Thankfully, it wasn’t metal and seemed more like padding than anything else.

“It looks majestic,” Tony hissed, because he had a thing for armors. Surprising to no one.

“It looks like a Yeti who just got knighted,” Rhodey offered from the workshop couch and Tony really, truly hoped that his best friend would be bitten by that missing bug that Tony forgot to take out last week,

“It’s not…it’s a care companion!” Tony gestured towards the white and gold bot with large blue eyes. That was totally not inspired from any supersoldier.

“I’m not saying it’s not cool,” Sam said with a small grin and hopped up to circle around the bot with sharp eyes, “It’s pretty cool. And sure, the idea is pretty awesome, even if you got it from Disney.”

“They totally got Hiro from me,” Tony countered and Sam raised his hands in mock surrender even though his eyes were warm and laughing.

“Sure, man,” he nodded and looked back over his shoulder at Rhodey, “So, what are we calling Tony’s latest love gift for Steve?”

“It’s NOT a -” Tony bit out with widened eyes but Rhodey spoke over him.

“Dunno,” Rhodey looked thoughtful, “It looks very Arthurian. Should have an appropriate name.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, “Kinda like a knight?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey nodded and looked at Tony, “Any suggestions, lover boy?”

Tony ignored the lover boy comment and tilted his head at the bot which was now scanning the three occupants of the place.


“Meh,” Sam wrinkled his nose.

“Lancelot?” Rhodey suggested and the others made unimpressed faces.


“No magic,” Tony quipped and remembered the last time magic brought them trouble. Steve was super mad at him that time, for endangering himself and -

“You seem sad,” the bot spoke up and Tony saw Sam jump a bit while Rhodey blinked.


“My scans and calculations indicate that you are experiencing an emotion,” the bot explained, gazing calmly at Tony, “It says in my database that the emotion is sadness.”

“Um,” Tony cleared his throat and carefully did not look at the others, “No, I’m -”

“My solutions include a variety of activities and dietary implements, along with conversation with your preferred humans. Or me,” the bot continued, “The first on my list of activities seem to be hugging.”

“Oh no, no , no -” Tony was cut off when the knight-bot stepped forward and carefully embraced him in a warm hug.

“There, there,” the bot cooed and patted the genius on his head while gently swaying with him in its arms. 

“Oh my god,” Sam whispered in an awed tone and Tony tried to get out of the hug but it just…felt…good.

“I think,” Rhodey said after a minute, in his smug tone, “we have a name.”

Tony just knew that his magnificent invention was doomed to have the cheesiest name in history.


“Meet Sir Hugsalot”

Hugsalot waved in a half circular hand motion and then did it again when Clint waved back with an amused expression.

“Is this…what is this?” Bruce asked as he took in the seven foot armored marshmallow like bot, “Is this your version of Baymax?”

“It’s an improved version of Baymax,” Tony corrected as though offended and Bruce shared a quick look with Natasha, “This is a StarkPal. Fully functional, real, and marketable.”

“Wait, you’re selling robot friends now?” Clint asked with a choked laugh as he observed Hugsalot with curious eyes.

“Not…yet,” Tony hedged before continuing, “This is a prototype, and I thought, who better to test on than my favorite pigs?”

“We’re you favorite?” Natasha asked deadpanned and Tony winked at her like the completely reckless man he was.

“My favorite guinea pigs,” Tony corrected and moved a bit when Thor came forward to poke at Hugsalot.

“Hello, Sir Hugsalot,” Thor boomed and extended an arm to the bot, “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Hello, Thor,” Hugsalot replied in a voice that Tony thought sounded a bit like Leonard Nimoy, “I must complement you on your attire today. You look resplendent in this shade of red.”

“You taught it to flirt?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Tony but Thor simply laughed with joy, always liking it when somebody complemented him.

“Tony, he is a great companion indeed!” Thor turned to Tony and clapped him on the back before turning to Hugsalot.

“Well, this is going to be entertaining,” Clint commented and Tony noticed that Steve had been the only one to stay silent through the entire demonstration, noting the supersoldier watching the bot with an unreadable expression.


Hugsalot, or Hugsie as Clint shortened it, was a hit among the Avengers. It was almost creepy if you thought about it but he had become a faster friend to them than any human had.

He would quietly help Bruce with his balcony garden, talking in soft tones about the latest opera music Bruce was listening to. He would gently provide foot massages and hum lullabies to Natasha as they huddled on the couch. He would help Clint do target practice and would never flinch when Clint tried the cliched apple trick on him. With Thor he would listen endlessly to the numerous battle stories and sometimes laments of romance, always offering warm hugs by the end.

But it was Steve that piqued Tony’s curiosity. Hugsalot simply sat with Steve and did nothing. They would sit together on the roof, Steve sketching the sunset and Hugsie staying quiet beside him. They would spend hours in Steve’s suite, where Steve drew Hugsie on canvas and the bot patiently stayed the perfect muse. Steve never really DID anything with Hugsie. He would never ask for hugs or accept them when offered. He was always polite, always kind with the bot, but he never interacted with it the way Tony had intended for.

And Steve still sat by the window, watching raindrops trickle down the glass.

It ate away at Tony for three weeks, making him feel disappointed with himself and dejected at Steve’s unchanged sadness. He felt incompetent. It was the worst feeling he could feel.

Finally, after three weeks, he lost his patience and cornered Steve in the gym.

“So, you don’t like him?”

Steve looked up from the bag he was decimating and then continued with his boxing.


“Hugsalot,” Tony gestured impatiently in the air, “You don’t like him?”

“I never said that,” Steve replied calmly and screw it, Tony never liked calm all that much anyway. He neatly steps between Steve and the bag and raises an eyebrow at the fist that almost hits him. Almost.

“Really?” Steve asked, panting with adrenaline and eyes a stormy azure, narrowing slightly at Tony’s action, “Really, Tony?”

“You wouldn’t hit me,” Tony dismissed the idea with a flick of his hand and stared up at Steve, “Important point is that you don’t like Hugsalot. Which is weird because he’s programmed to be likeable. Natasha likes him, and she doesn’t like most people.”

“She likes you too,” Steve quipped, moving away with grace as he resigned himself to unwrap his hands.

“Yeah, well I’m incomparable, that’s different,” Tony grinned, “I’m an acquired taste and you guys have acquired me by now.”

“Acquired taste,” Steve repeated and shook his head with a small huff of a chuckle, “Like wasabi.”

“You think that would hurt me, but it won’t,” Tony snorted, “Wasabi is a food of the gods according to Thor.”

“Thor…” Steve started to say and Tony raised an eyebrow with a smirk, daring him to say it, but Steve simply rolled his eyes, “..is right, of course.”

“Of course,” Tony echoes with a slightly softer grin and then turns quiet for a minute, watching as Steve goes about drinking his water.

It aches him with the fervor of a physical wound, the inability to be useful or helpful to this man. This man, who Tony knows has shouldered more burden than anyone should be allowed. This man who can decimate a reinforced punching bag with the same ferocity as the gentleness he uses to brush strokes on a plain canvas. This man who had captured all of Tony’s expectations and rules and thrown them out the window the minute he had met him. 

This man whom Tony was madly in love with, for every reason he could thinks of.

“I don’t - “ Tony began and exhaled in a shuddering breath as he collected his disappointed thoughts even as Steve eyed him blankly, “I don’t know what to do.”

Steve doesn’t speak, patient and quiet in his silence and Tony tries again

“I don’t know how to help,” he spoke miserably, shifting his gaze away from Steve and glaring at the floor, “How to fix anything. I don’t know…emotions. They’re too, they’re too hooded for me. I’m not an onion guy, Steve and emotions and feelings, they’re like onions. You have to peel back layer after layer. Sometimes people even wonder if I have any. Emotions, I mean, not onions. But I’ve made enough people cry so I’m guessing I do.”

He took a stuttering breath and continued, looking up but not meeting Steve’s eyes completely.

“Monsoons are neutral for us,” he said and he knew he was blabbering, knew he wouldn’t make sense but he had to get it out, “I mean, we don’t have anything against the rains. It rains, it becomes cloudy, we shrug and move on. We don’t really do anything during monsoons, not here. We’re not…we’re not monsoon people.”

“But,” he drags a hand through his hair and laughs weakly, “it does rain. And it screws up our lives sometimes, that wet blanket. It’s not something we see all that well, because we think, oh if I stay inside and don’t go out, I won’t be drenched. The rain won’t affect me. But it still does, because it always does. It’s stupid and it’s pointless and it doesn’t have any logic but it does. Like a lone raindrop on a window pane, it drags us down.”

Pulling on all of his reserves in courage, Tony looked at Steve, actually looked at him and spoke.

“The thing though,” he said, “the thing to remember though, Cap, is that it’s just one of the seasons. And it can’t rain forever.”

“Tony -” Steve’s eyes are bright, too bright, too wide and Tony has never been able to resist them, even for his stupid hugging bots.

“I wanted you to have a friend,” he said, dragging the words out from some dark cavern of his soul, “You have us, yes, but…it doesn’t seem enough. I wanted you to have more. Somebody who wasn’t screwed up and who, for once, didn’t need you to carry their burden or take care of them.”

“I wanted you to have a friend and I created Hugsalot,” Tony said with a shaky, weak grin.

It’s back to silence and Tony has never done well with it. He has always been noise, always been action,but this, this is all Steve. And for this man, Tony would be anything.

“I wanted him to be you,” Steve said after a while, too long a while and Tony’s eyes shot up to meet the azure ones that haunted his dreams and made them too.

“What?” he croaked out and Steve let out a small, shaky grin.

“You made me another me, Tony,” he said and Tony - he was gobsmacked. He simply stared at Steve and felt all the silenced thoughts crashing back on him. The eyes, the personality, the warmth of hugs, the idea of a golden armor to protect the bot, the mannerisms. God, he had created his own Steve.

“I wanted him to be you,” Steve said again and Tony was lost, he was always lost when it came to Steve.

“That’s…that’s a bad idea,” Tony chuckled wetly because what were they discussing anymore. What were they talking about?

“Always liked bad ideas,” Steve shrugged, an easy grin on his face, as though his eyes weren’t shining and his face wasn’t brightening, “Did everything good based on bad ideas.”

“I’m not good at,” Tony waved his hand a bit, “caring.”

“I disagree,” Steve said and tilted his head with a fond expression.

“Or being a friend.”

“Definitely disagree,” Steve chuckled and Tony felt an ache settle, calm down in him.

“Or hugging”

“That,” Steve quipped and finally, finally took a step forward, coming closer to Tony and staring back at him with the fondest expression, “remains a theory to be tested.”

“Yeah?” Tony was definitely not sounding choked but Steve simply nodded, a fringe of blonde hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, and you said something about us being your favorite guinea pigs,” Steve replied and opened his arms with a cheeky expression that had Tony choking out a laugh.

“Guinea pig,” Tony muttered and stumbled forward, unbalanced and yet more steady than ever as he steps up and into a pair of arms that…

…that feel warmer and better than any Hugsalot could ever be.

Steve hummed and tightened his hold lightly, breathing in when TOny snuggled closer into Steve’s chest, burying his face into the man’s chest.

“See?” Steve whispered into Tony’s hair, soft and easy and almost happy, “theory disproved. You’re great at hugging.”

Tony let out a sound, something embarrassing he’s sure, but he didn’t let go and stayed, wrapping his arms tighter around Steve’s waist.

For this man, he would disprove every theory they knew.


Hugsie still lives with the ragtag group of seasonal superheroes who turn out to actually be perennial monsoon people. They’re all a bit damp, a bit of wet blankets, and definitely lone raindrops down window panes. But they also stick around for the clouds to clear and the rainbow that comes out after that.

Well, as Clint says, it’s as good as being hugged by your personal hugging pal.

I hope that this didn’t turn out to be an absolute mess. Lots of love, Precious darling <3 Hope you have a better week ahead :D

Inner Thoughts - Drarry

read on ao3 

from this prompt list

Prompt #179: “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

When Harry and Draco were randomly paired to share a room for their eighth year of their Hogwarts education, neither of them was thrilled about the arrangement. But, the war was over, and Harry wanted to be able to put the past behind him. After a few months, the two become civil towards one another - friends, even. One quiet evening, tucked away in their room with the intention of studying for their impending NEWTs, the two boys open the door to a conversation that independently concerns the mental health of both of them, along with the feelings they’ve both been harboring and what’s really bothering Draco Malfoy.
WC: 1,431
Rating: T

Harry Potter was commonly believed to be a hero. Everyone he met wanted his autograph, a picture together, or just to express their undying gratitude to the savior of the wizarding world. And Harry hated it. This reaction seemed to be the case with nearly everyone he came in contact with, aside from his fellow returning eighth year students, including Draco Malfoy.

Especially Draco Malfoy.

For the first few months of the school year, they both had to deal with their assigned living quarters and the fact that they were somehow placed together. Malfoy was different after the war; Harry could honestly tell how much it had changed him. But then again, it had changed everyone.

After the first few months, Harry found his attitude and his actions towards Malfoy evolve from reciprocated cold toleration to an (also reciprocated) warmer acceptance. They often walked to their shared classes with one another and occasionally found themselves assisting the other with their revisions (particularly Malfoy helping Harry with his Potions assignments). So, it wasn’t uncommon, especially at this time in the semester, for the two boys to be found in their room surrounded by piles of books and papers, a few plates of dinner brought up by the House Elves scattered amongst the chaos.

They were both focusing on Transfiguration this particular night, and Malfoy had refused to tell Harry what he wanted when Harry announced he was going to send for some food. Harry figured Malfoy didn’t think he would have the time to spare for dinner, but it seemed Malfoy really hadn’t been eating much of anything lately, so maybe there was more to it than Harry thought. However, as soon as the food arrived, Harry set aside his Transfiguration textbook and shifted his focus to the plate of roast beef and treacle tart.

Malfoy barely glanced up when he noticed the arrival of an extra plate, but sighed and pulled it closer nonetheless, causing Harry to grin. Malfoy even set aside the parchment and quill he had been scribbling away at for the past hour.

Harry knocked back a glass of pumpkin juice, spelling it full again. “Malfoy,” Harry said softly to the blindingly blonde haired boy sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor a few feet from him. “You haven’t even touched your food.” He had, in fact, simply been sitting still for the past few minutes, staring at Harry, but Harry couldn’t tell if Malfoy was actually staring at him or if he was only staring off into space, mind still in his studies.

Malfoy finally met his eyes. “I told you I didn’t want anything to eat,” he said softly. Okay, so Malfoy had definitely been staring at Harry. Oddly, it made Harry’s stomach do a bit of a flip, and it wasn’t because of all the food he had just popped down.

“Oh, come on,” Harry said casually. “You’ve got to be hungry. Transfiguration revision always makes me hungry.”

“Everything makes you hungry,” Malfoy spat back, and Harry grinned. Normally, he’d notice a smile of some sort of a glint in Malfoy’s eye, but his expression was instead quite blank. Something wasn’t right.

“Hey,” Harry began, sliding his near empty plate off to the side of him. “Is everything alright?” He leaned forward and put his hand on Malfoy’s knee, in a manner that Harry had intended to be comforting. Malfoy simply shifted his gaze from staring at Harry’s face to staring at Harry’s hand on his knee. He made no move to forcibly remove it, and neither did Harry.

“Yes.” Malfoy’s answer was short and clipped, and Harry could tell it was a lie.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Malfoy,” Harry said in a kind voice.

“And you don’t have to pretend to care,” Malfoy retorted, moving his eyes back to meet Harry’s.

“What makes you think I’m only pretending to care?”

“Because. You’re you, and I’m me. Why the fuck would a lion like you have a morsel of care to spare for a snake like me?” Hurt flashed through Malfoy’s eyes, and their gazes held until Malfoy finally broke away, turning his attention to his hands in his lap.

Harry was baffled. “I-I’m not a lion,” he protested, and Draco said nothing. “You know,” he said, mostly to fill the silence, “the sorting hat nearly put me in Slytherin.” Malfoy’s head shot up upon hearing this. “The only reason it didn’t is because I fought against it. I think it figured my bravery used to defy what it thought was weighed more heavily than any other Slytherin qualities I might have had.” Harry looked up sheepishly after his confession to find Malfoy’s eyes locked with his, more intensely than before.

“And trust me,” Harry said, “I do care. I care because you’re one of the few people who still treats me as Harry, not as the fucking savior of the wizarding world.” He paused and all he could hear was the sound of Draco’s breathing and the wind whistling beyond their window. “I appreciate that, so much. And I appreciate you for being who you are, and for letting me be the picture of who I am in your eyes, not who I am in the eyes of the world. You don’t know what that means to me.”

Malfoy just sighed, a certain sadness laced within it. Harry’s eyes danced all over Malfoy’s face, mapping it unconsciously. Malfoy truly had a distinct type of beauty to him, all planes and ridges, but striking nonetheless. “I never wanted to take it,” Malfoy whispered, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Take what?” Harry asked gently, confusion threading through his thoughts.

“The Dark Mark,” Malfoy supplied, snapping his eyes up to fight Harry’s. It was only for one moment, but that one moment held enough intensity to last hours.

“But, you didn’t take it,” Harry said, not quite grasping what Malfoy was trying to say.

“Exactly. But I probably could have gotten it if I’d desired, if I’d asked,” Malfoy said, his eyes jumping to Harry’s. “But that wasn’t what I wanted. I knew I was on the losing side. I knew you, Potter, I knew your bloody persistence, your stupidly unwavering bravery. I knew you’d win or die trying.” The vulnerability in Malfoy’s voice was unnerving and so ridiculously unexpected. Harry would expect this level of conversation from Ron, Hermione, or anyone else, really, but never from the block of ice which was Draco Malfoy.

Maybe Draco was just melting.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me all of this,” Harry admitted, not unkindly. He was surprised to find his voice suddenly possessing a certain vulnerability that mirrored Draco’s.

“I just needed you to know that I’m not some evil blood supremacist,” Draco said, and Harry marveled at the amount of time it had been since Draco had refrained from tearing his gray eyes away from Harry’s emerald ones. “I just needed you to know I’m not evil,” he repeated.

“Well, I kind of figured that after the first night when you didn’t A-K me in my sleep,” Harry said, a lighter tone to his voice.

“I’m serious, Potter.”

“So am I, Draco,” Harry said, only noticing he’d used Draco’s first name once it came tumbling out of his mouth, as natural as telling time. “I don’t think you’re evil.” Malfoy looked as if he didn’t quite believe him at first, but his face softened after a moment.

“What do you think of me then?”

Harry thought about it, thought about all the feelings he’d been having towards Draco in the past months, which were mainly reminiscent of the feelings he’d harbored during sixth year. “I think-”

He was abruptly cut off by the harsh press of lips against his, a fervent burst of emotion and vulnerability. Harry felt his lips move against Draco’s, barely aware of what was happening. He was barely able to grasp that Draco Malfoy was kissing him and Harry loved it. Harry’s hands found their way to Draco’s hair, his soft hair, and that noise Draco just made –

And suddenly Harry’s wet mouth was greeted with a cold chill as Draco ripped himself away from Harry, a horrified expression on his face. “I’m – oh, Merlin, what am I doing? You’re not even gay, and –”

“Malfoy,” Harry said, reaching his hand up to cup the side of Draco’s face. “Shut up.” And then their lips collided again, a flurry of fire descending around them–the lion and the snake, both desperate for redemption, for normalcy, for a future, for each other.

Jamie Benn #2

Requested by Anon:  Can you write a Jamie Benn drabble based on TSwift’s Mary’s Song (Oh my, my, my)? THANK YOU SO MUCH!

*Thank you so much! I love this song so I was really excited about writing this. :) I hope you like this. Also, I can’t believe this is just my second Jamie Benn request. :O*

Word count: 834

Originally posted by sebaho

You slid next to Jamie on the front porch steps of your childhood home. He smiled down at you and continued to watch the quiet street, not even offering you one of the three beer cans he had on his other side. You wrapped your light cardigan on your body tighter.

“Why are you all alone in this chilly night?” you smiled.

“Just thinking,” he shrugged, “you?”

“Wanted some alone time too,” you confessed.

“Want me to leave?” he asked.

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This kind of got away from me and somehow ended up smutty. My first time with any kind of smut. It’s kind of PG-13. Hope you like it!

It was one of those rare, quiet evenings at home. There was nowhere to go, no one to see and that was perfect. Just you and your boyfriend, Niall, sitting on the couch together in silence while you read and he flipped back and forth between golf and a comedy on the tv. Every so often, the silence was broken by his hearty laugh. Your stomach flipped and your heart swelled with love for him every time. He was just too cute. At one point he was literally slapping his knee in mirth. When he barked out another loud laugh, his eyes crinkling and his head tipped back, you couldn’t resist. You took out your phone and took a picture. The shutter sound caught his attention and he turned to look at you.

“Whatcha doin, pet?” He reached out and grabbed your ankle with one hand , stroking the smooth skin with his thumb.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment over being caught, but also because you couldn’t help but react physically every time he put his hands on you.

“Nothing,” you answered shyly, tucking your chin into your shoulder. You lifted your book up again and tried to hide your eyes behind it, hoping he wouldn’t give you too much grief about your moment playing paparazzi.

His grip on your ankle tightened and he jerked you towards him. You slid until you fell flat on your back with a grunt, your t-shirt riding up baring your stomach. Of course, he wasn’t going to let this go, not when he had a chance to tease you.

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