golden yell

things that have been used as weapons in hunter x hunter:
  • switchblade
  • bouken swords
  • needles
  • yoyos
  • spinning tops
  • dodgeball
  • fishing pole
  • hairstyling scissors
  • hair
  • umbrella (sword?)
  • coins
  • chains
  • floating hands
  • a giant fucking smoking pipe
  • bubble blower
  • surfing (not the surfboard, the surfing)
  • cellphone
  • poker cards
  • a boardgame
  • a dartboard
  • a red card
  • giant golden statue
  • birdcage
  • bees(?)
  • fish
  • gorilla clones
  • a yelling clown
  • jupiter
  • the sun
  • the fighter’s grandma
  • poetry
  • an interest calculator
I Win (Feysand Fanfiction)

Feyre and Rhys teaching their kids to fly.


Rhys and I stood on the edge of the stones, both of us staring nervously out at the water.

“It’s not deep enough.” He said.

I bit my lip, considering ever factor, every variable. “There’s a shallow part up there right next to a low hanging branch. If he hits it…”

He shook his head. “I’m worried about the width. One wrong breeze and he could-”

“Would you two stop worrying?” Cassian cut in. I looked up to where he was strolling from the small camp Rhys and I had set up the night before. “He’ll be fine. We’ve trained plenty of younglings with half the safety precautions and we’ve yet to kill one.”

I paled at the word kill, but nodded anyway.

Cass is right. I told Rhys. And it’s not like he’s unused to dangerous things.

Rhys’s lips played in a smile. I will always treasure the memory of you knocking him flat on his ass accidentally with a wooden sword.

Just as I’ll treasure the memory of him beating you in a strategy game. I retorted

I let him win.

Yeah, right.

I walked towards the tent before he could answer. I felt the amused expression on his face following me. A second later, he sent an image of something that was definitely not appropriate for the situation.

I hissed back. Rhys. Ashryn just developed her scenting abilities. I’d rather not have her asking about the funny smell in the air whenever you get that expression.

What expression? He responded innocently.

I shook my head.

Then I heard a scream.

I realized it had come from the tents and bolted towards them. I was across the clearing and opening the flap in a flash.

I scowled at what I found inside. Nesta was frantically pouring water on the smoldering blanket, scowling as Nyle and Ashryn argued in the corner. As soon as they saw me, they both threw their hands up, pointing to the other.

“She set the blanket on fire!” Nyle blabbed.

Ashryn’s eyes were more furious than was probably normal for a seven year old. She scowled and retorted. “Only ‘cause Nyle snuck up on me.”

“I was just getting you back for earlier.” He wrinkled his nose. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” She yelled.

“The carpet says different.” He responded.

“Maybe it’s a mirror and you’re getting me mixed up with yourself!” She yelled.

“Ashryn. Nyle.” I said sharply. They both quieted down. “Do we need to go home?”

Ashryn looked at the ground. “No, Mom.”

“Please no.” Nyle whined.

I tucked Ashryn’s gold hair behind her ear and mussed Nyle’s dark locks. “Ready, then?”

Nyle nodded. I grabbed his hand and lead him out of the tent, Ashryn bounding up behind us.

“Can I please learn how to today?” She begged, skipping between the tufts of grass. Her violet eyes grew wide as she caught sight of the creek Rhys and I had prepared with magic, deepening and widening it so it would break any fall. “Just cause Nyle’s older-”

“How’d you learn to fly, Mom?” Nyle interrupted. “Uncle Cass said you didn’t learn like Daddy and him.”

“Azriel taught me.” I answered simply. The entire story would take too long.

“How did you and Daddy meet?” Ashryn said suddenly.

I swallowed my laugh. “That’s a rather long story. I’d be telling you until midnight and then Nyle wouldn’t get his first lesson.”

“I’ll tell you.” Rhys said from behind us. I had heard him sneaking up on us, but I hadn’t said anything. It was worth it to hear the squeals coming from a startled Ashryn. Nyal, who had recently decided that he was too old to be scared of anything, quickly hid his surprised yell with a cough.

Rhys lifted Ashryn onto his shoulders, letting her swing her legs in the air as he held her hands. “Your mother saw me and decided I was the handsomest person she’d ever met.”

Nyle and Ashryn both wrinkled their noses. “Gross.” Ashryn said.

“Yep.” I said quickly, shooting Rhys a dry glare. “Come on, let’s go.”

Nyle and I ran to the edge of the creek. Rhys set Ashryn down and knelt down next to him.

Nyle had inherited Rhys’s ability to gain and lose his wings at will, while Ashryn had inherited my mix of magic. So it was easier for Rhys to get started. When I taught Ashryn, I’d have to put her through the same exhausting process I’d gone through with Azriel, slowly building wings from scratch.

As Ashryn watched her brother and Rhys, she frowned. Then she looked up at me. “Please, Mom?”

The whine was gone from her voice. It was just a small plea this time.

I nodded, smiling faintly, and pulled her into the woods.

A few hours later, Ashryn and I walked back to camp muddy and sweaty, both of us grinning. She had a small scrape on her knee and a bruise on one arm, but she didn’t seem to notice as she skipped over to Nyle.

I smiled at Rhys as he lifted a brow. “What did you two do?” He asked.

I just smiled faintly. “I taught her to fly.”

He glanced at her, confused. “But wings…”

Ashryn was teasing Nyle about his soaked clothes. “How did it go with him?” I nodded towards them.

Rhys smiled softly. “Better than I could ask. Better than my first time, probably. He still fell a lot though.”

I nodded. “Ashryn, Nyle.” I called.

They both looked up. “Yeah?”

I grinned. “Want to race? Girls against boys?”

What do you have in mind? Rhys asked.

Several things. It was my turn to send him an inappropriate image. But pertaining to this, just one.

Wicked and beautiful, as always, Feyre darling.

You have no idea. I smirked as Nyle eagerly nodded.

Rhys and I walked to the edge of the spring next to them.

“On your mark…” I said, winking at Ashryn. She bounced up and down excitedly. “Get set…”

I took a breath and summoned wind. Rhy’s wings whipped out, along with Nyle’s.


Before either boy could flap their wings, Ashryn and I shot across the creek, propelled by a powerful gust of wind. Nyle’s complaining shout rang across the forest as I scooped up Ashryn and held her high above my head, both of us still floating.

“We win!” She yelled. Her golden hair had come loose from her braid. It whipped around her face, her cheeks rosy.

“Not fair!” Nyle yelled.

“Come on,” Rhys chuckled. “Let’s go back to camp.”

I’m going to repay you for that. He promised, laughing into my mind.

I smirked again, then blushed as he sent another image.

Ashryn sniffed the air. “Mom, what’s that smell?”

From the other side of the creek, Rhys fell down laughing.

“Forest creature.” I said quickly.

Her nostrils flared again. “It’s gone now.” She noted.

I nodded as solemnly as I could manage. “It must have left.”

I’ll bring it back. Rhys promised.

I scowled. Good luck with that now.

I take that as a challenge.

I could hardly contain my grin as I responded. Let’s hope you don’t lose this one.

Too Forgiving

I’m in the mood for something a little angsty and a little fluffy. Who better to be in a angsty/ fluffy fic than Draco Malfoy. Hope you guys like it! 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggle Born! Reader 

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Swearing 

You bounded up to Draco after dinner, ginning like a little kid at the thought of spending time with your boyfriend. As you reached him, you hugged his arm, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; this time something was off. You knew something had been bothering him for weeks now, but you just couldn’t put your finger on what and he wouldn’t tell you. He jerked his arm out of your grip. Pouting, you tipped your head to the side. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Get your filthy hands off me, (L/N),” He growled. You flinched, not expecting that response. Your (E/C) eyes widened as you looked at him. God, he didn’t look right. The shadows under his eyes said that he hadn’t gotten anywhere near enough sleep. 

“Dray, are you alright?” You asked, stepping closer to him. He pulled away from you again. 

“Are you deaf? Get the hell away from me,” He snapped. You let your outstretched hands drop to your sides. You stared at him, wishing you knew what he was so worked up about. You began to rack your brain for anything you’d done that could have upset him like this. Nothing came up. 

“Woah, calm down, love. Tell me what’s wrong,” You said, trying to stay patient with him. 

“You. Now sod off, (L/N).” You blinked at him, confused. What exactly had you done? He turned and began to sweep away. For lack of a better idea, you grabbed his hand. Turning back to you, he barely paid any attention to you, instead focusing on his hand with a look of mild disgust. 

“First of all, don’t talk to me like that. Second, what did I do?” His grey eyes found your (E/C) ones, turning to steel the second they met. You winced at the sight. 

“I do as I please,” He said, throwing on a mask of cool indifference. God, that riled you up a bit. Your temper flared. 

“Draco Malfoy, I am your girlfriend. I demand to know what’s got you acting like such a prick,” You snarled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No, (L/N), you’re not,” He sighed, throwing you a pitying look. You raised an eyebrow. This was coming from the man who, just this morning, told you that he loved you no matter what. 

“Since when?” You asked. That took the wind out of your sails. 

“I would never disgrace the Malfoy family name by dating a talentless, classless, simple, grotesque, little mudblood. Much less loving one,” He purred. A sick smirk graced his face, the face you fell in love with. Tears sprung in your eyes and your hands began to shake. 

There was that word. That nasty, ugly, terrible word. Mudblood. That wasn’t a name he’d ever called you, no matter how bad the fight got (and you fought regularly enough). Other’s had called you that awful name, but you didn’t care about them. Draco was the only person it killed you to hear such a thing drop from his lips. The lips you’d kissed so many times. The lips that claimed they loved you so many times. You worked your jaw and clenched your shaking fists fishing for something, anything, to say. Nothing except for a ragged sob came out. 

Turning on your heal, you tore towards the Gryffindor dorms as quickly as you could. As you ran, you shot past the Golden Trio. They yelled for you to stop, but you didn’t, you couldn’t, your legs wouldn’t let you. Faintly, you heard them running after you. You didn’t want them to run after you; you wanted him. Finally, when you reach the dorm, you slammed the door, locked it, and then allowed your legs to give out under you. Sliding down against the door, you let yourself sob pathetically. 

“Let me in, (Y/N),” Hermione begged. It had been over an hour since you locked yourself in the dorms with no explanation, though you were sure they knew it had something to do with Draco. You made no move to open the door. You really weren’t up to an ‘I told you so’ speech from her. Part of your brain scolded you for thinking she would do that, another part offering to allow yourself to sink into the pain of what had happened.  

“Go away, ‘Mione,” You sobbed, miserably. 

“Whatever that git did to make you cry, I’ll kill him for it,” Harry said with fire in his voice. You were sure that it was meant to make you feel better. It didn’t. 

“Maybe she shouldn’t have dated Malfoy in the first place.” Thump. “I’m just sayin’.” Ron with as impeccable timing as ever. Despite the fact that he was just trying to help, you wanted to smack him in the mouth. 

“Come on, (Y/N). You’ll have to open the door at some point, the rest of the girls have to sleep in there, you know,” Hermione said, softly. 

“Please just leave me alone,” You cried, burying your head in your arms. Soft muttering came from just outside the door for a moment. 

“Alohomora,” She whispered. The door unlocked with a soft click and the trio stepped inside. Finding you on the floor, they shared a look then picked up, moving you to a bed. Hermione’s bed because it was closest. 

“Come on, (Y/N), don’t cry over, Malfoy. He’s not worth it,” Harry said, putting his arm around you. You sucked in a deep breath and sobbed again. Ron leaned over, offering you a pumpkin pasty. Leave it to a Weasley to go straight to food in order to comfort someone, not that you turned it down. 

“You said that to Hermione once; she at least got to punch him in the face,” You said, rubbing your eyes. 

“What the bloody hell happened anyway?” Ron asked as you ate the treat. You sniffled, Hermione offering you a tissue. 

“He broke up with me,” You said, shakily. The boys threw each other a slightly confused look. Hermione waited, knowing there would be more. You couldn’t seem to get the rest of the words out. 

“And?” She prodded softly, lest you start crying again. 

“He told me that he’d never disgrace the Malfoy’s by dating a talentless, classless, stupid, ugly, little mudblood,” You whispered, not wanting to believe that the blond boy you loved so much would actually say that. 

“He said what!! Oh, I’ll hex him into the next dimension!” Hermione fumed, grabbing her wand. You touched her arm, shaking your head. 

“Don’t. Please don’t.” They all stared at you as if you’d grown a second head. 

“What do you mean ‘don’t’? (Y/N), he called you…” Ron seethed, standing next to Hermione.  

“I know what he called me!” You yelled. Ron dropped back down to where he was sitting as Harry and Hermione watched you cautiously. You looked down at your hands which resided in your lap. “Sorry. I suppose I don’t feel quite myself.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ron said, patting your knee. 

“You should get some sleep,” Harry said, rubbing your shoulder. You nodded, numbly. You felt all cried out, all yelled out, as if your insides had been scooped out with a spoon. 

“We’ll be in the Common Room if you need us,” Hermione said. You nodded, slipping into bed. 

“Goodnight,” You muttered. A chorus of goodnights rang back.

It was nearly two in the morning and you still couldn’t sleep. You were still hurting over what had happened and still concerned about Draco. The way he looked just didn’t seem right to you. You pictured his face. Angular, too angular, like he’d lost weight and you could fit your entire wardrobe into the bags under his eyes. His eyes. They were dull, yet oddly frantic. The usual cool silver of them had been replaced by a hollow grey. There was no way you could sleep with all of this bouncing around in your mind. 

Sighing, you got out of bed and made your way to the astronomy tower. You always went there to think. Funnily enough, this is where you met Draco. Back in first year the two of you startled each other when you saw him coming up the stairs and he saw you sitting in the window. Now that you thought about it, Draco might be there. Part of you highly doubted it. As you made your way up the stairs, you saw a shadow of someone sitting in the window. Draco. 

“I thought you might be here,” He said, not turning to look at you. You blinked, wondering briefly if you were dreaming. 

“What do you care?” You asked, no venom in your words. You joined him in the window, sitting an arm’s length away. He glanced at you. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” His voice was so broken, like he’d spent hours crying as well. You looked out over the school grounds, the moon illuminating everything in a different way than the sun. It put you at ease. 

“Are you?” You asked. It wasn’t meant to come out so nasty, but you were hurt. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flinch. 


“I believe you,” You sighed, kicking your bare feet in the wind. 

“You do?” He asked, disbelief laced his words. You nodded, pushing a loose strand of (H/C) hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, but one thing is still bothering me,” You said. Still, you didn’t look at him. 

“What’s that?” The way he said that made you think he knew exactly what was going to come out of your mouth. 

“What’s going on? With you, I mean,” You asked, finally turning to look at him. The moon cast a shadow on his face, outlining his profile. Sharp nose, sloping forehead, soft cheek bones, and a strong chin: the same profile you’d seen many times in the same place. This time, it was more pained and sad. You could tell by the way his head tilted down. 

“You don’t want to know,” He whispered. Reaching over, you took a cold hand in yours. 

“I do.” So he told you. Everything. How much he regretted saying those things to you.The dark mark. Voldemort. The impending war. Suddenly, you felt very small, like you and Draco sitting in the tower were just specks floating in space. You could only imagine how he felt being stuck in the middle of all of this. By the time he’d finished, you could see that he was holding back tears. You hand was still in his with a death grip, like he thought if he let go you would disappear. 

“I’m scared, (Y/N), I’m so scared,” He wept, quietly. He didn’t look at you, but there was no hiding the tears. 

“I forgive you,” You hummed, scooting closer to him. You picked up his hand, gripping it more fiercely in your own. “And I love you, Draco Malfoy.” 

Draco brought his forehead to yours, tears still streaming down his pale cheeks. You waited, looking into his liquid silver eyes. He wanted to say something, but his words were smothered by your lips. He held you close, hands tightening on the back of your night shirt, keeping you there. Your fingers slipped into his platinum blond locks. His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you opened your mouth obligingly. Tongues danced together, saying without words that you loved one another. It wasn’t until you parted that you realized you had started crying to. 

“You’re too forgiving, darling. I love you, (Y/N) (L/N),” He whispered against your lips. You smiled, swallowing his words by bringing his lips back you your own. 


A/N: This is the prize fic for @nekonomajo, the first place winner of my fic giveaway!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


“Draco… Hey, Draco…”

Pansy was waving her hand in front of Draco’s face and his head snapped back to look at her, tearing his eyes away from a certain Gryffindor that had just walked into the Great Hall.

“Oh! What do you want Pansy?”

Pansy raised a brow at him, “You were saying something? Before Potter came in.”

Draco gave Pansy an incredulous look, “No! I was done talking. It had nothing to do with Potter!”

Pansy, who looked wholly unconvinced, gave a slow nod and then turned to have a whispered conversation with Millicent. Draco, ignoring the giggles issuing from Pansy, found his eyes wandering back to see what Potter was up to.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in thought, frowning down at his half eaten food. He shook his head with a grumble and went back to actually eating his breakfast. What was it about Potter lately that had captured his attention so completely? They had always seemed to be aware of each other, but lately Draco had been noticing Potter more and more, and thought that Potter was doing the same. In fact, the other day when Draco had passed Potter in the corridor, he had turned back to see Potter make eye contact with him, before promptly slamming into a wall. This had elicited quite a laugh from Draco’s friends and he had joined for appearances, but now that he thought about it, he had only relaxed after seeing Potter tell his friends that he was okay.

His frown grew even deeper at that thought.


Draco snapped his head up to look at Pansy again. Pansy huffed and gestured to the now empty Great Hall, “Merlin Draco! What is up with you lately? You’re lucky I like you so much, as now we’re both late! Stop spacing out so much!”

First class of the day was Transfiguration with, of course, the Gryffindors. By the time Draco got to class, the only available seat was behind Potter, of all people. Potter stiffened when Draco sat down, keeping his head straight, but Draco kept staring at the back of his head, really not absorbing anything Professor McGonagall was saying.

Draco frowned at the back of Potter’s head, now feeling a bit put out that he hadn’t even turned a little to glare at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

So he did what any mature young adult would do.

He kicked the back of Potter’s seat.

When Potter merely jumped a bit and tightened his grip on his quill, Draco did it again.

And again.

And again.


Harry stood so quickly and whipped around, Draco barely had time to stop mid-kick and put his foot back under his desk before it got stomped on or something.

“Would you bloody cut it out!?” Potter all but growled at him

Draco schooled his features into his proper Malfoy smirk, “Stop what Potter, I was just listening to the Professor.”

Potter’s eyes narrowed, “Kicking my chair you bloody Ferret.”

Draco hadn’t been expecting that old insult and his eyes narrowed as well and he stood, looking down at Potter with his superior height, “Care to prove it, Scarhead?” He snarled.

There was the sound of a throat being cleared from behind Potter, and they both looked over at a livid Professor McGonagall, “If you boys are quite done disrupting my class,” she gave them both a look that said this was not a question, “You will both sit down and pay attention,” slowly they both sat down, “Ten points from both of you and detention tonight after dinner. You will meet me in here after you eat,” they both gave a nod and McGonagall gave them both a piercing stare before returning to her lesson.


Harry grumbled as he walked through the corridors with Hermione and Ron later that day. He had been trying so hard not to notice Malfoy’s presence behind him while in Defense class, even with the feeling of eyes on the back of his head. He was still a bit sore about walking into a wall because of Malfoy.

He paused. No, not because of Malfoy, right? There was a much better explanation than being distracted by Malfoy. He frowned in thought, not registering Ron and Hermione’s simultaneous “Look out Harry!” before he promptly walked into another wall.

Because he was thinking of Malfoy.

Damn him.

He got up, mumbling that he was fine before walking with them to the Great Hall for lunch. As usual his eyes immediately scanned the room for Malfoy as he sat down. It didn’t take but a moment for Harry’s eyes to find that gleaming blonde hair. As he started to eat, he watched Malfoy doing the same, eyes scanning over the elegant way he picked up his fork, his proper posture, his pale skin, pointed features, and his bright silvery grey eyes. He froze when he looked into those eyes from across the hall, coming back into reality when he realized what it meant that he was looking at Malfoy’s eyes.

He was staring at Malfoy.

And Malfoy was staring at him.


Harry jolted and nearly dropped his pumpkin juice that he was about to take a drink from, his eyes tearing away from those bright grey ones to look at Hemione.

“What are you doing?” She scolded, “Didn’t you see? Romilda Vane just dropped something in your pumpkin juice!”

Harry dropped his drink automatically, which then splashed all over his pants. His cheeks stained a faint red color and he looked over at the disappointed look on Romilda’s face and then to the slightly amused look on Draco’s before standing and storming out of the Great Hall to change before his next class.

He wound up being a little bit late to his next class, but he didn’t care because it was History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs, and Professor Binns didn’t even look up from his lecture when he walked in. What he did care about though, was the new pile of folded up notes on his desk, that, instead of getting rid of, Ron was snickering about in the seat next to him. Harry sighed and sat down, opening the first one.


He closed it with a grumble and started to open a few more.



'I L–’

Glaring now, Harry promptly incinerated all of the letters on his desk, looking around pointedly at any disappointed face in the room and elbowing Ron in the ribs for laughing before they were both smacked over the back of the head by Hermione for disrupting the class.

The rest of Harry’s classes went much in the same way, he’d come to class to a pile of letters on his desk, open a few of them to make sure that they weren’t love letters, and then incinerate them when he confirmed that they were.

When he finally sat down at the Gryffindor table for dinner, he was in a very bad mood, and Ron snickering next to him and Hermione giving him sympathetic looks every couple of minutes was not helping at all.

“Hey Harry!”

Harry slammed his head against the table as he was once again swarmed by a bunch of girls from all the houses, questioning him why he didn’t read their letter, trying to give him their letters in person, trying to offer him sweets (probably laced with love potion) and a couple of them were even fighting over his pumpkin juice.

Harry glared at all the girls and then his pumpkin juice exploded on the girls that were fighting over it just as he yelled out, “For Merlin’s sake! I’m bloody gay alright? Leave me alone!”


“I’m bloody gay!”

Draco’s eyebrows shot way into his hairline as he heard Gryffindor’s golden boy yell out those words. In the silence that followed, he felt a warm glow of hope filling his chest.

He gagged as his rational mind caught up with whatever crazy hex he was obviously just hit with. Hope? Why in the bloody hell would he feel HOPE over what Potter had just yelled. Hope for new teasing material, maybe? That didn’t feel right.

Draco shot a glare in Potter’s direction. Stupid bloody Gryffindor making him think odd things that no proper Malfoy would consider. He was a Pureblood heir, promised to a daughter of another Pureblood family from birth. And he most certainly definitely without a doubt was absolutely not gay for Harry Potter. Or anyone. But especially not Harry Potter.

Draco watched Potter get up and storm out of the Great Hall with the eyes of all the disappointed or horror-struck girls following him out. With a stab of envy, he noticed a few hopeful eyes of a couple boys as well. No, not envy. Some other strong emotion beyond annoyance. He frowned again and stood, figuring he had better make his way to Detention, lest he encounter an even more furious McGonagal.

He trudged to McGonagal’s office, fighting to turn his frown into his Malfoy Mask, while still confused about the way he felt after Potter’s outburst but not wanting the git to see it on his face. He was finally able to school his features back to his mask just as he opened the door to his detention with Potter.


The tension in the air was palpable, as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy sat grading essays for McGonagal’s other classes. She had forced them to sit next to each other, claiming that they needed to work out their differences and learn to act like proper gentlemen. They were now sitting silently, trying to concentrate on marking Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw papers and not on each other.

For a moment, Draco looked over at Harry who was sucking on the tip of his quill as he compared the essay to McGonagal’s notes. Draco’s mask broke for a moment as his cheeks turned a light pink, then he shook himself out of it and his mask returned.

Noticing the movement out of the corner of his eye, Harry glanced Draco’s way only to see the blonde tapping his long elegant fingers rhythmically against the top of the desk. The only betrayal of concentration on his Malfoy Mask being his eyebrows knitted together a bit closer than usual. The tips of Harry’s ears went a light red when he realized that he had been looking close enough to notice the difference in Draco’s face.

Before Harry could look back at his paper, Draco’s head turned and their eyes met.

Both of them jolted and blushed a deeper shade of red, frozen staring at each other. “Um…” Harry started, while at the same time Draco said, “I…”

Speaking at the same time startled both of them out of their stupor and they both quickly looked back down at their papers. Neither of them looked back up until they were finished, besides peeking out of the corner of their eyes at each other every couple of minutes.

Neither of them missed a beat when McGonagal released them for the night, and rushed back to their respective common rooms.


'He was staring at me! Why was he staring at me? Why was I staring at him?!’ Was Harry’s repeated thoughts as he sped up to Gryffindor tower. He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and rushed through the common room to his bedroom, ignoring Ron and Hermione calling his name. Honestly he hardly even heard them, too caught up with his thoughts.

He flopped into bed, laying for only a moment before he bolted upright and attacked his pillow, punching it and trying to picture hitting Malfoy’s face.

“Why. Can’t. I. Picture. You?” He demanded of his pillow, punching between words. Suddenly he was able to picture Malfoy’s face in his pillow and his hand froze mid-punch, he stared at his pillow for a moment before grabbing it and launching it off the bed with a frustrated shout. He flopped face first and limp-limbed back down on his bed, groaning with frustration into his mattress.

“Harry…?” Ron said meekly, standing in the doorway, “Mate?”

Harry didn’t move, just mumbled something incoherent that sounded a bit like “What” against his mattress.

“Is there a reason for beating up your pillow and then throwing it at me?” Ron asked, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

Turning his head just enough to uncover his mouth and look at Ron with one eye, Harry responded, “It wasn’t comfortable enough for me.”

Ron just nodded slowly and tossed Harry’s pillow closer to his bed so he could retrieve it later, retreating from his crazy friend to his own bed and closing the curtains. Once Ron was in bed, Harry grabbed his pillow and lay down on it with his own hangings closed, but it was a long while before he was able to sleep.


The next afternoon, Draco was sitting in potions with the Gryffindors, blessedly on the other side of the classroom from Potter. He told himself that it was because he never wanted to be that close to the brunette ever again, but still his eyes continued to wander over to Potter.

He was doing it again.

Sucking on the tip of his quill while looking at the instructions for the potion they were supposed to be making.

Draco jolted when he realized he was about to toss his shrivelfig into his cauldron without skinning it first. He forced himself to concentrate with a violent shake of his head, skinning the shrivelfig and putting it into his caldron. As he started stirring, his mind started to wander again, as did his eyes.

Potter was now slicing his caterpillar with a frown of concentration and his brows knit together. The blade was shaking as he tried to make sure every slice was the same size. Draco had to smirk as he watched, Potter was so cute when he attempted potions.

At that thought, Draco blinked and dropped his caterpillar, whole, into his cauldron.

Which then exploded.

By the time he had picked himself off the ground, Snape was standing next to him, looking livid. Godfather or not, Professor Severus Snape did not tolerate exploding cauldrons in his class.

“Mister Malfoy,” Snape said, looking down at him, “You will stay after class and clean up this mess you made,” he looked at the rest of the students, “Everyone else, class is over. Out.”

No one questioned this and hurried out of the room. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, at least Snape still stuck to his rule of not deducting points from Slytherin. He brushed himself off and began to clean up as Snape disappeared into his office to prepare for the next class.

It wasn’t long, thanks to a few cleaning spells he learned, before he had the area cleaned. He picked up his bag, semi-noticing another bag that one of the Gryffindor’s had left in their haste to leave. Probably Longbottom, Draco snickered to himself as he opened the door to leave.

Smacking right into someone solid and falling down to the floor, that dark haired someone falling on top of him. Draco opened his mouth to curse the person, then realized he was looking through a pair of round glasses at bright green eyes.



“What are you–?”

“My bag–”

Both of them had spoken at the same time, Potter answering Draco’s simultaneous question with a finger pointed at the discarded bag on the Gryffindor side.

“Aren’t you… going to move?”

The question turned Draco’s head back to Potter, who was giving him the same stunned and confused look that he thought he probably had on his face.

“Not with you on me, Potter…” The word that was usually a curse on his tongue came out a lot softer than he had meant it to. “You move.”

Even as he said this, Draco was feeling drawn to move closer, rather than move away. Which is what his rational mind would be screaming at him to do if it were currently functioning.

Potter moved, but instead of moving away, he started to move closer, and Draco followed his actions. Their lips were now millimeters apart, Draco could feel the warmth of Potter’s skin, it was so close to his.

The door to Snape’s office slammed open and Potter flew off of him so quickly, Draco barely had time to blink before he was standing.

“Mister Malfoy, what are you sti– Potter. What are you doing here and why is Mister Malfoy on the ground?” Snape’s eyed Potter and Draco saw his 'I’m going to take points off of Gryffindor’ face.

“We just bumped into each other, Professor.”

Both Snape and Potter gave Draco an odd look when he said this, before Snape looked back at Potter suspiciously, “Is this true, Mister Potter?”

Potter nodded and snatched up his bag, “I just came back in for this, Professor, I didn’t see Malfoy as he was leaving.”

Snape just gave a slow nod and then shooed them both out of his classroom so he could let in his next class, telling them to hurry up and get to their own classes.


A week had now passed and Harry barely felt the time, he was so busy replaying the events in the Potions classroom in his thoughts.

What had happened?

It was like, when he fell on top of Malfoy and saw the surprise and actual emotions in the silvery eyes, his mind had just shut down. He had been running on… Was it instinct that had him leaning closer to Malfoy, or something else?

Would they have… Kissed?

Rather than feeling nauseated, like he thought he should at that thought, he felt his heart give a little leap.

Definitely not instinct then.

It was his heart. His heart had wanted him to kiss Malfoy.

And Malfoy was leaning closer to him too.

It took Harry days of trying to rationalize Malfoy’s reaction before he determined that yes, he had been leaning forward. On his own, even.


So if Snape hadn’t come in, they would have kissed.


They definitely would have kissed. Was he okay with that? Probably. Should he be? Probably not.


Harry looked up just in time to see the rapidly approaching wall. He tensed up in preparation for the inevitable impact.

That never came.

Harry suddenly found himself being yanked into the classroom next to him, saving him from impact.

“What is up with you and that wall, Potter?”

With that unmistakeable drawl, Harry was now aware of who his rescuer was. He turned, and promptly lost the ability to speak. Malfoy himself was looking rather agitated and a little bit ruffled as he cast a locking spell at the door. Harry wasn’t sure if he should run or not, because of the look on Malfoy’s face.

“Malfoy…?” Harry tried.

Malfoy looked sharply up at him, “Why are you everywhere?”

Harry blinked dumbly, “Wha?”

“Every time I look up, I see your stupid hair or your stupid glasses. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for weeks!”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up as he realized what Malfoy was saying to him, “Me too…”

He peeked up at Malfoy to see him looking stunned again.

“I mean… You know… Thinking about you…” Harry mentally kicked himself at how bad that sounded.

Malfoy dragged his fingers through his hair, then absently fixed it back into perfect order. For the first time Harry had ever seen, Malfoy looked very very lost.

Harry gave a soft laugh as Malfoy turned away, sounding almost hysterical. He had no idea how to handle this situation or even if he was reading into it correctly. Suddenly he couldn’t stop his bout of word vomit, “I mean, what could you be saying anyways? We can’t possibly have fallen for each other? You can’t have fallen in love with me.”

Harry knew that his voice sounded confrontational, but his face portrayed hope. A, faint, hope that Malfoy would see past his self-protection and contradict him.

Malfoy whipped back around and grabbed his shoulders, his Malfoy Mask now completely dropped. “That’s just it isn’t it! I can’t have fallen in love with you!” Harry’s heart plummeted but Malfoy wasn’t done, “Damnit Potter! I can’t have just fallen in love with you because I never fell out of love with you! Since the day we met!”

Then Harry felt Malfoy’s lips crash against his. It was electric and fire and all tongues and teeth as they wrestled for dominance, neither conceding until they finally broke apart. Harry was panting, looking up at Malfoy and his disheveled uniform.

“Now what, Malfoy?”

Malfoy smirked, “Maybe start by calling each other by our first names.”

“Oh, you have a first name?”






I’m really sorry for the delay in finishing this, but I really hope you liked it. Just a side note, this is officially the longest thing I have ever written.

Also sorry for the massive wall of text, I’m posting on mobile.

Major props to my sister @firesofbagginshield (obviously a Hobbit blog, follow her if you like Bagginshield) for helping me edit this.

anonymous asked:

HOLY SHIT jack just yelled at his most powerful ally and now he's gunna die good job dude ya done goofed

I mean you know, the warning ‘major character death’ isn’t there but yeah he’s certainly closer to being dead than he has been in the past.

fly with me

Marauders Era, 5th year

Lily hated everything about James bloody Potter but she especially hated him when he was standing tall in the middle of the Quidditch pitch as if he was the Prince of the highlands, that boy had the ego the size of a dragon. It didn’t help when all of the red and golden stands yelled out his name in unison. Lily could accept the fact that James was a pretty good Quidditch player if he didn’t fucking gloat about it every five minutes in the common room.

Lily could literally see the third year girl next to her drool as she watched James fly effortlessly through Ravenclaw defense and not-so-gently nudge her friend in the ribs as she whispered “isn’t he sooo cuuteee?”. Lily felt like smacking the girl in the head to knock some sense into her but thought better of it,this was none of her business. The fact that almost all of the student body was infatuated with James Potter was ridiculous, Lily thought it was because Sirius was taken by Remus because Sirius was superior to James in look wise. Lily would never tell it out loud but she kind of understood why people liked James and why she could never do so. The ego that fed his self confidence and charisma was extremely annoying to Lily.

Thank Merlin he had stopped asking Lily out though, Lily was finally at peace. After that incident with Snape, James had withdrawn himself, too and Lily felt good. She never needed anyone to protect her or defend her honour, she was very capable of doing so herself, thank you very much. Lily left the game early and went to the common room after James scored his 10th teams 14th goal, she knew how it would end, it always ended the same when James was in the mood for it. Just as she had expected half an hour later Firewhiskey was flowing like waterfalls in the common room as a tipsy James approached with a bottle of half empty Firewhiskey in his hand.

“Alright there, Evans?” he asked carelessly as he tried to find his balance.

“Congratulations Potter, you got a hundred more girls to fall in love with your ego today” teased Lily. James shrugged at this and left without another word. Lily made her way to her dorm, as much as she loved her house, she had never enjoyed the celebrations after the games. So she settled herself in her bed, unable to fall asleep, making pillows fly around the room as she tried to keep herself from doing her Prefect duties and spoil all their fun. No, she wasn’t going to do that.   

6th year

Games against Slytherin always took a toll on James Potter, Lily could always see that and now that he was the Captain, the tall boy was crushing under the expectations. It was the second game against Slytherin and even though Gryffindor crushed them in the first one, James still had his doubts. 

Lily looked at James as he played with his food sitting just across her.

James, you have to eat,”  recommended Lily. She didn’t know why she called him James, she never did that. “and you need to stop worrying, you will do just fine”

“Oh, not you, too, Evans” said James as he dropped his fork and took off his glass to rub his eyes. “They are going in for the kill, they want each of us in those beds. I don’t want my boys to get hurt just for a cup, I’m not a psycho

“Okay, Potter. Snap the fuck out of it. Where’s the Potter I know and hate?” she smiled as she put porridge in front of the darker skinned boy with some pumpkin juice. “Now eat up before I hex you to next year”

James smiled a little, Lily could feel him ease up a little. She hated him but they were friends now, it kinda worked out that way without either of them intending to and James, well, he had grown out of that idiotic phase where he hexed people for the pure pleasure of it. He had actually grown literally, too. He had grown taller and broader, Quidditch did him well and then Lily realised she had been staring at Potter for too long as Sirius came to the table.

“Alright there, Evans?” he teased, his grey eyes shining with mischief.

“Sod off, Black” replied Lily almost instantly because he knew, he knew she was looking at James with something else in her mind. James finished his porridge and chugged his pumpkin juice as he got up to go to the pitch.

“Good luck” blabbered Lily with a shy smile and James left with a nervous nod.

“When will you tell him?”

“When will I tell him what, Black?” challenged Lily, there was nothing to say and they got up silently to get some good seats. Peter and Remus met them at the entrance of the Great Hall and they placed their usual bets for the game as they walked.

Lily felt edgy as the players walked out on the pitch, she heard Peter whistle loudly. It was fun watching the Quidditch games with the Marauders but this time, Lily would rather a little less enthusiasm knowing how James felt right now. He wasn’t a complete prick after all, she felt her heart flutter as James looked their way. This had started happening way too often and Lily was starting to worry because really? Potter?

The game was as disgustingly rough as James expected it to be Lily found herself hiding her face behind Remus as James was hit by one of the massive Slytherin Beaters. It was the longest one and a half hours Lily had to endure, at the end of it James was in one piece and he was smiling widely.

Lily had started joining the celebrations lately and they were as fun as Marlene told they were, she realised she enjoyed it because she didn’t spend her time criticising the Marauders but instead drinking unhealthy amounts of Firewhiskey with them. When the night ended Remus, Lily and James were sitting on the couch James in the middle as the others were laying on the ground. Lily felt her already warm skin burn every time she felt James against it and this may be Firewhiskey speaking but she wanted to kiss him. I am so fucked. They talked about everything that night and Lily felt safe. She hadn’t laughed that hard for a long time, she made James give her a piggy back ride to her dorm because she was too drunk to climb the stairs, praying that no one would remember it tomorrow. As James let her down slowly, he gave her a grin and disappeared to his dorm quickly. Lily fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and dreamed of messy black hair and warm brown eyes.

7th year

It was the first game of their last year. McGonagall had practically begged James to win the cup this year because the coming generation didn’t please McGonagall one bit. 

Lily woke up to the familiar scent of his boyfriend, who had probably been lying awake for the past hour. 

“Morning” she mumbled sleepily.

“Morning, love” replied James, his voice still rough and Lily just loved that. She got up slowly and kissed her boyfriend a little too eagerly that James had to stop her. “Not a good idea before Quidditch game, Lils”

Lily rolled her eyes and got up as James took all of her in and jumped out of the bed to lift her from her waist, Lily’s favourite.

“We are going to be late to breakfast and you need to eat Potter” she scolded as she pulled over a sweater she picked up from Remus’ pile of clothes. The other boys had started slowly shuffling.

“Wake up you fuckers, I have a game today” yelled James suddenly making Sirius jump.

“Fuck you” groaned Peter. James grabbed Lily’s hand and they made their way to the Great Hall. Lily watched as almost everyone wished James a good luck and realised how much tenser he got with each pat on his back. It as raining outside so Lily slowly took James’ glasses as he stared confused and bewitched them to stay clear.

“I love you” murmured James as he put his glasses back on and got up.

“Love you, too” 

She did, she did love him so much and was actually proud to call him her boyfriend. She loved that they were Head Boy and Girl as it gave them freedom in the castle and lots of time to talk and snog. Lily loved that his brown eyes looked like honey and that his hand fit perfectly on her waist, she loved that his messy hair was the perfect place to hang onto as he kissed her fervently. She loved that James was hers and no one else’s, she loved that most of the girls were jealous of her because she was the one holding James Potter’s hand and not them. Lily realised she had made it to her seat while she was thinking all the ways she loved James Potter.

The game was relatively easier than Slytherin ones but Hufflepuff had a good team and James knew that. Lily prepared herself mentally to not attack anyone who’s a little too harsh on James because he could handle himself. 

It had been quarter of an hour and Lily couldn’t keep it in anymore as a Bludger scraped James’ left arm. 

“Oi newbie, I will fucking haunt you if you hurt him” yelled Lily over the rain to the Hufflepuff’s new beater and the boy literally shrunk in size out of fear. “That’s better.”

Lily cheered and jumped with each goal James scored and very audibly shouted “That’s MY boyfriend!” like there was anyone who wasn’t aware.

Lily got lost in thought for a while as he watched James fly perfectly, the way he dived and rose again swiftly even though the rain made it harder on everyone else, James wasn’t affected by it. His wet robes made every part of his body very visible and Lily shuddered a little and she tamed herself because this was not the time. She would have James to herself after the game was done.

When the game was done Lily flung herself into James’ arms and snogged the living shit out of him because James was hers and no one could stop her. 

Slightly Exaggerated Accounts


Seriously, who told the students about what happened in Hogsmeade? So far today I’ve been called Hulk, Rocky, Hitmonchan, and One Punch Man.

And no, I didn’t shout out a catchy one-liner. Whomever is spreading the rumor that I yelled “Golden snitches get stitches! Bitch!” is far more creative than I am.

The signs as things my sister has yelled at my dog
  • Sagittarius: sometimes you're cute, but sometimes I just want to rIP YOUR HEAD OFF.
  • Pisces: aww yes come near me, come near me if yOU WANT TO DIE.
  • *This was inspired by things I've yelled at my cat KITTEN EDITION*