#drarry headcanon weekend

[wildoceanstarz]

☆ Introduction ☆

Hi! You can call me Starz! (I have a few other names but this one is funky lol)

I'm 22 years old, I use them/them pronouns and if you just give me a nudge, i Will talk your ears out about my hc about the valkyries and the black sisters. Oh also fuck Joanne, hope you choke <3

Working on a register of marauders nicknames because it gets confusing :(+ new idea for the girls.

I'm mostly into:

✦ The Valkyries

✦ The Black Sisters (and their parents & partners)

✦ The Marauders

✦ And a sprinkle of Slytherin Skittles, Batfamily and Golden trio era (mostly Drarry)

(✦ Merlin is always in my mind but also I don’t wanna interact with it too much bcs they genuinely make me sick like I feel so strongly about them.)

Favorite ships:

Dorlene, Marylily, Pandalily, Jegulily, Quillkiller (+ Zabini on the weekend), Nobleflower, Noblesilver (Narcissa x Zabini), Wolfstar, Poppy x Minnie, and Sybill x Peter.

But honestly I can be sold anything that isn't icky (big age gap, power imbalance, INCEST, etc) if you’re convincing enough. I’m not a big fan of straight ships tho I’m gonna be frl… but any queer ship? Slay!

Fav platonic ships: Marlene & Peter & James, Marlene & Sirius, Moonflower

Favorite characters:

✶ Marlene McKinnon

✶ Peter Pettigrew

✶ Narcissa Malfoy

✶ Evelyn Zabini

✶ and honestly all the girlies ( Lily, Pandora, Mary, Dorcas, ...)

Beliefs, favorite headcanons and stuff under this (take a peek) :)

Things i believe in that can be controversial(?):

Begging people to stop making Peter fucking skinny I'm being so serious, I WILL block you. (also when people don't include Pete as a member of the group like he was chosen as Secret Keeper because he was their BEST FRIEND be frl)

Lily Evans is polyamorous and she's so real for that (with maybe a hint of aromantic vibes tbf)

PANDORA DOESN'T HAVE THE SAME PERSONALITY AS LUNA *cries* no but frl like Xenophilius is right there being a fucking Luna clone and you're gonna give her personality to Pandora?? (i need to get more into how i see her, will make a post at some point lol) Also I don't believe in the hc that she's a Rosier and Evans twin.

If you're gonna redeem Barty and Evan, you cannot go and shit on Bellatrix like let's be serious. You definitely can not like her but why are you over there calling her a psycho (derogatory).. have you seen your boys? (also people are sleeping on the Black Sisters as a whole)

Sybill Trelawney is such an interesting character and I think giving so much of her characteristics to Pandora water them both down. Also the angst is so good? Like come on guys (more on this)

I actually think Severus Snape is an interesting characters.

You shouldn't buy official merch or tickets to events or anything that would give money to jkr because that makes her believe people support her in her views about Trans People.

Favorite headcanons:

✮ Peter, James and Marlene being childhood best friends

✮ Fat Lily my beloved <3

✮ Dorcas and Marlene doing each other's hair every month after getting together (Dorcas dye Marlene's hair blonde and Marlene learn how to braid so she can do new protective styles for Dorcas)

✮ Bellatrix, Rita and Evelyn being the Diamonds and terrorising Hogwarts when they were there.

✮ Peter k!lling Marlene :)

More about me:

My first language is French. I have the shittiest sleep schedule known to man. I am a professional yapper.

I'm absolute shit with tone so might use tone indicator (but tbf the wonder of # here are making this much easier)

If you couldn’t tell from my choices up there, I fucking love angst. I’m writing sad shit and giggling, I’m writing happy shit so the angst is sadder. I Will make you cry (hopefully).

I’m also mad silly.

I have a few others account in the marauders community (Insta, Tiktok, Ao3, ...) but it's a secret (lol)

If you’re interested in what I like to say here, just look up the #starz yap tag, it’s what I use when I have ideas that I write more deeply about. :) + #starz hc for when it’s a personal add on headcanons. Using @starztakes for reposting just my hc and yapping without all the extra stuff.

Alright i think that covers it up. Hope you enjoy my account! P.S: idm stalking of my page and spamming lol so go for it (I do it by accident all the time… #starz struggle)

☆Yeehaa☆

oh also i'm a Marlene kinnie. kiss.

🍉

[slytherhell]

(drarry) headcanon friday + weekend ! / #12

HIGHKEY HEADCANON THAT, HARRY JAMES POTTER, DID IN FACT, 

Get that Hungarian Horntail Ginny mentioned back in the sixth year, tattooed across his chest.

The idea to do so was sudden, so mad to the point where it only made sense to do it.

He’d have blamed the decision on a few too many drinks on a night out, but it came to him one morning as he sat up from a dream he couldn’t quite remember.

But as he rubbed his eyes awake, and with it seared into his mind, from that point, Harry was intent on getting that tattoo.

He was never much of an artist - that was something more within Draco’s field - but one Saturday morning, already having cooked breakfast and waiting for Draco to wake up and come downstairs, Harry sketched out the dragon as best as he could from memory from when he and the other competitors gathered around the bag and drew out a dragon from the tournament in fourth year.

As he focused and bit down on his lip in concentration, bent over his desk by the window, his pencil danced along his paper; at first forming basic circles and shapes, but as he continued, they formed the head of the dragon and its wings outstretched - a flame of fire bursting out of its widened mouth.

Once feeling that it was complete or at least decent enough for one to look at it and create something out of it, Harry rose from his chair; stretching out in the morning light, a bit of his stomach showing from underneath the red sweater and above his grey sweats.

Hearing a small laugh float within the room, Harry caught a half awake, half sleeping and hair-tousled Draco standing on the steps; playing with the rope of his dark, green robes as he continued to watch the scene in amusement.

Stashing the sketch away in a place that was both safe and in one he’d remember, Harry took ahold of Draco and went into the kitchen with his partner; wanting to make the design a surprise.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this, Harry?” Draco asked the very next Tuesday as threw on his business-suit jacket, re-adjusting hit tie in the mirror before looking back over at him.

“Most definitely. I mean, I know it was a joke in the beginning, but you can totally see that on me, right?”

Draco scoffed, and gave him a one over, “Sure. But you better not get an ugly design,” Draco’s lips curled up, “I’ll have to see it every night in bed.”

“No,” Harry grinned, “You’re gonna like it.”

Draco looked at him. “Simply because you’re agreeing with me, I already know that I’m going to hate it.”

“You’re not, I promise. Might even be something you’re familiar with...”

Draco paused narrowed his eyes, “What are you playing at, Potter?”

“I’d let you know but then you’d be late for that important meeting.”

With realization crossing Draco’s face, Harry used this opportunity to move Draco towards the fireplace; both not wanting him to be late, and also trying to get him out the house as quckly as possible so he, himself, still have time to spare for the evening.

“I’ll be back, Potter!”

“Of course you’re gonna be back, Malfoy. You live here to!”

Harry didn’t miss the smal smile the spread across Draco’s face before he took a handful of powder and threw it into the flames of the fireplace, dispapearing soon after.

With a glance down at his watch, and noticing that the clock was edging onto six o’clock, Harry picked up his own jacket off the couch and tugged it on, jogging over to the other side of the room as he remembered the sketch. 

And folding it down into a square and placing it into his backpocket, he, too, left the house.

Harry got it made down in a muggle tattoo shop, telling the artist that he was an art student, had created the idea for this creature in the middle of class during  lesson and had wanted it brought to life across his skin.

The artist took his design, looked at it for a good minute then nodded; telling him to remove his short and to take a seat back in the chair close to her desk.

With years having passed, being properly fed and with his time of playing Quidditch having pre-toned his body, Harry was rightfully fit by the time reached his twenty-second birthday.

And Harry, despite never getting a tattoo before in his life, thought the process went quite well; it wasn’t as painful as he originally thought, and he even managed dozed off in the black, leather chair he’d sat in.

Once it was announced that his tattoo was finished, Harry sat up; crossing over to the mirror on the wall once he realized that he couldn’t quite see it well from where he was loking down at his chest.

Harry froze as he approached the mirror.

A maroon red dragon sat on his chest; and he was amazed at how realistically the artist had captured it, at the vivid streak of colors she’d creativly weaved and crafted into her creation.

Paying the amount due, and even tipping a bit more, Harry shrugged on his shirt and headed out the glass door; his smile never leaving his face.

“Guess who’s back?” Harry questioned into Draco’s ear as he crept up behind him within the kitchen later on that night.

“I’d say my answer, but that would just terrify us both, so why don’t you just say it, Harry?”

“You could’ve just played along,” Harry mumbled, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist as he came up to kiss him.

“I could’ve,” Draco replied, pulling back, “But I didn’t. So get over it.”

 “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t such an ass.”

“You know, I could say the same about you, but unfortunately, we don’t all get what we want - so here we are. And there’s no such thing as the perfect partner, so I’m stuck with you.”

“Sometimes, you go a bit far with that.”

“Go big or co home, right?”

“If that were true, you’d have went home a long time ago.”

Draco scoffed, “You weren’t saying that the other night.”

A pause.

And then the two burst out laughing.

“Why are we like this?” Draco laughed into Harry’s shoulder.

“The hell if I know!” He replied back, and let their laughter subside before saying, “I’ve got to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I got the tatoo made today.”

Draco grinned, “You’re joking! I thought you would’ve waited weeks to get it.”

“Weeks?” Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t have possibly waited weeks. Alright, now. Step back,” Hary warned, pulling his shirt off his head, his glasses sliding off of his face and hitting the ground. 

They were placed back onto his face just in time for Harry to see Draco’s eyes widen upon seeing the inked design.

He ran a single hand across Harry’s chest, smiling.“A dragon,” He whispered in awe.

“Yeah. Not only that, a Hungarian Horntail dragon.”

Draco paused then looked up at him, brows furrowed in thought, “Why does that sound so familiar..?”

“The Triwizard Tournament,” Harry told him “That’s where you remember it from.”

“Right. Well, why didn’t you get this made in the Wizarding World?”

Hary blinked. “They make these here, too?”

“Yes, Potter! While we might not have an exact replication of everything from the Muggle World up here, we do have tattooing parlors.”

Draco went on to describe just the tattoos within the Wizarding World were practically animated; having the ability to move across a person’s body as if it were a video. 

Harry listened on further; hearing how some of them would even change colors, spit out mini designs, and would even make sounds against a person’s body.

( Harry took a seat as the list further extended, but all throughout the while, Harry couldn’t help but to wonder: how did Draco know all of this? ) 

[drarryandallthingshogwarts]

* Drarry Headcanon 10 *

harry , always leaves the bed early to make breakfast , except for weekends , cuz on weekends they make food together

[sitp-recs]

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74

Harry/Draco, Pansy/Luna (2020, Teen and Up, 38k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

I had a feeling this would be a therapeutic read and now I’m so glad I saved it for a difficult week because this was just what I needed. What a fantastic story! I adore quiet fics exploring the magic & nature combo and @xanthippe74​ spoils us with gorgeous settings, soothing atmosphere and a gentle love story. I love Luna’s calm and aloof perceptiveness - it warms my heart to think she’s the one holding this group together, inspiring them to create and enjoy this little magical world. I had a great time following their camping routine, each character finding a manual talent to contribute with, it was so delightfully comforting and mundane. 

I personally like to headcanon Harry as someone who has a special relationship with food so I was very pleased to see this being explored here. His character is so so lovely and he navigates his issues and sexuality in a gentle, honest and thoughtful way. I love many of his introspective moments, especially the stag scene, which literally took my breath away because omg, FEELS. And the Drarry subplot is absolutely exquisite. I like how things are tense and complicated at first, both painfully aware of each other and tiptoeing around their past, but I appreciate the that they were mature enough to talk things out and establish a soft, tentative truce. Smitten Harry is always a joy to read, all obvious and oblivious lol, and this fic has one of my favorite first kisses ever, as sweet and enchanting as the rest of this story. More than a charming love tale, this is about a group of interesting people choosing to move on and heal together. Call me a sap but seeing this unexpected gang experience such a delightful summer adventure warmed my heart for the whole weekend. Go read it now!

Read on AO3

[kenobibuck]

Re: fan writer Friday, care to tell us about any WIPs? :) (ps what’s your header image bc I love it)

Well, seeing as how I can’t talk about any fest fics or the Bday fics I’m working on hmmmmm I’ve already talked about my Draco & Ginny fic, so here’s a messy blurb from another wip: Harry and Draco are muggles in University and end up as lacrosse rivals at different schools. Set in New England and featuring all the ridiculous rich kid hobbies and all their friends. Jet skis, weekend lake house retreats, pick up polo matches, avocado toast for breakfast every morning. Except they’re not actually Muggles. Voldemort died the first time and there was no second war, but due to the Ministry collapsing because of corruption and scandal, a lot of the OOTP members moved to the NE area and resettled to live as Muggles. So lightning gen were all raised without magic - in order for Voldemort to die it took sacrificial magic from their kids. Anyways, some of the Slytherins/purebloods who were cautious about strongly supporting either side ALSO resettled in NE (some type of Salem backstory thing that had a lot of parents hoping the magical grounds would give their kids their magic back). However, the Malfoys went to France instead. Then - for Freshman year, Draco and Blaise want to study in America and get accepted into one of the Ivy Leagues (all the wizarding children are accepted because of secret wixen on the board) AND THEN LACROSSE RIVALS DRARRY. So long story short: I wanted to write a 2-3k smutty Muggle Sports AU and my brain laughed at me (I have a separate notes doc just for my ritual research 😭) Fanfic Writer Friday - Reblog this post if you want people to send you asks about your writing process, wip/fics, or headcanons today! For each ask you get, send and ask back in return!

[autumnsnuggling]

Silence Has Many Sounds

I was sent an ask by the wonderful @nourix-png asking for a headcanon about Drarry, asking can they stand silence, who talks the most and who talks the least. But, I got myself tangled trying to sort out how the mood changes with these two (because they like to change their mind!) and instead wrote this! And then when I tried to post it Tumblr failed and so I lost the ask. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks @dewitty1 for screaming! :D Also on AO3 here

TW: Canon child abuse. Suicidal thoughts. References to torture. Survivor’s guilt. 

Silence has many sounds.

In the dead of night after you’ve been screamed at all day because you burnt yourself on the oven because you’re four and don’t know how to use it properly, it’s the sound of relief. Of reprieve. Of the closest thing to comfort you know.

In the middle of day two of being alone in the house, locked in your cupboard without food and water, and with only a bucket to pee in, it’s the sound of loneliness. Of pain. Of sheer anguish so great, you could never put it into words. They leave you like this more often than you’d like to admit, and every time they do, your soul cries so loudly, so desperately, you feel as though you could shatter apart and scream for hours. But the pain traps you, stifling every whimper with another echo of silent desperation.

When the world fades to black after one too many well-placed cuffs to the head, it’s the sound of resignation. Of acceptance. And of the tiniest bit of gratitude, that you won’t feel the pain anymore, even if only for a little while.

Silence has many sounds.

At the end of the day when you’ve played all day in the gardens with the peacocks, and you’re exhausted from dancing with the sun, it’s the sound of contentment. Of happiness. Of promises of more fun to be had tomorrow.

After being sternly corrected by your father when you’ve failed to navigate the social situation appropriately, it’s the sound of shame. Of humiliation. Of fury, hot, destructive, and misplaced. 

When your mother and father are off staring at some ancient ornament in a shop and ignoring you, it’s the sound of boredom. Grating, and insufferable, and something you always manage to put an end to. Even the desire to be like your father isn’t thrilling enough to keep your attention on a mouldy old painting of a hand.

Silence has many sounds.

In the first days of Hogwarts it’s the sound of awe. Of the first snatches of real happiness you’ve ever experienced. Of disbelief that you’re here. That it’s real. That you might actually belong. It’s tentative, and welcome, and a pleasant companion in this glorious but foreign world.

In the years people disbelieve you, torment you, blatantly lie about you, it’s the sound of injustice. Of quiet, deep seated anger, bubbling and crackling continuously, ready to explode at the flick of a wand. It’s hot. It’s wary. And it’s exhausting.

During the months of leading to the war, it’s the sound of tension. Of planning. Of quickening heartbeats and lumps swallowed in throats. It’s uncomfortable, and necessary, and deafening. You wish it would end, but fear what will happen when it does.

Silence has many sounds.

When the homework towers rise, it’s the sound of whirring minds. Of knowledge being processed, organised, and stored. Of dedication, pride in your work, and determination to be the best. To make your father proud.

In the common room on easy weekends, it’s the sound of cunning. Of scheming to steal points from the other houses. To rile up ‘Perfect Potter’. To finally get him to notice you. It’s thrilling, and exciting, and fun. 

And when the tensions rise, when the owls come from home and inform you of what’s coming, the glory to be had, it’s the sound of pride. Of anticipation. Of arrogance. Your heart leaps, your mind buzzes, and your whole being thrums. It’s the sound of a fantastic beginning, of your time to shine.

Silence has many sounds.

In the tent, wondering if Ron will ever return, it’s the sound of bitter hurt and disappointment that you hide, unable to face the pain of betrayal from your best friend, unwilling to ask if you were just as wrong as he was. As Hermione wakes up with red puffy eyes, eats less and gets paler each day, it’s the sound of pain, of regret. And when the sun sets on another day of no progress, no answers, and infinitely more frustration, it’s the ever hissing sound of despair reminding you once again that you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. 

In the wake of the locket being destroyed, it’s the sound of shock, loud, breathtaking, and immobilising. It’s the sound of understanding, of urges to apologise but shame and sheepishness stealing your voice. But somehow, despite everything, it’s the sound of unspoken apologies, of tentative reconciliation, of relief that you’re together again. It’s the beautiful harmony that fuels you on your quest, mends broken bridges, and restores the tiniest bit of normality in the awful world you’re surviving in.

But when the months of silent planning suddenly erupt into a raging battle, silence is the sound of both terror and determination. It hounds you in the sparse moments between harsh hexes and violent curses. It sends your heart rate spiking as you wonder where the next spell is coming from. It crushes you as your friends and family fall, one by one, around you, and forces you on to reach the horcruxes before he does, to do anything needed, to walk into that forest. As you take your last steps, stand before him, and take your last breath without raising your wand, silence screams fear, hope for victory, and sheer panic.

Silence has many sounds.

After the ringing of a scream, it’s the sound of a room of people barely breathing. Of shock. Of death. It haunts you, chilling every inch of your body and it weighs upon you, begging you for a chance to escape, a chance to run. In the manor that’s so full of people and yet so devoid of warmth, happiness, or even anything vaguely right, silence is the sound of allegiances breaking, but evil continuing to rule. It’s the sound of voiceless pleas for change that lack any real spark of hope. It’s the sound of the future.

In the dungeon, it’s the sound of defeat and despair. When the prisoners, too weak, tired, and beaten to fight or even throw a disgusted glance your way wince in pain for moving an inch, or flinch at the sound of your footsteps, silence screams of injustice and desperation for change. It’s the sound of being trapped, being reminded of your fate, of your duty. And it’s sickening. 

And when things finally come to a head and the battle rages, it’s the sound of being overwhelmed; the sound of fighting every fibre in your being. Of desperately praying to be spared by curses, yet wishing for an escape from what your life has become. Of pleading for help, yet not knowing how someone can, and wondering whether you even deserve it. Of wondering what it would be like to feel the caress of green light.

Silence has many sounds.

In the months after the war, it’s the sound of the closest thing to sanity you can get. During the fleeting moments where you don’t have to think, don’t have to do anything, aren’t being called for something, asked a question, or being smothered by fans, it’s the sound of the responsibility that’s been laid on your shoulders relaxing a little. It’s the sound of being able to take a breath, just one, before you go back to the crowds once more. It’s the sound of respite from the battle you never thought you’d have to fight.

On warm, sunny, early summer days that you spend in dark clothes, it’s the sound of reality hitting, of grief touching—clawing—at you so hard you can barely breathe. It’s the sound of being reminded, heartbeat by heartbeat, of all you lost, of how much changed for the worst, of all the ways you failed. It’s the sound of all the reasons it doesn’t feel like a victory. 

As ghosts swirl in Grimmauld Place, the only place you can escape the madness that being a ‘hero’ brings, it’s the sound of hot, painful tears you refuse to show. It’s the sound of admitting that you’re not as strong as you’re supposed to be, of wishing they could understand that, of not knowing how to be you anymore, desperately wanting to make them see but unable to be anything other than what they want. It’s the sound of wondering why you came back. Of almost wishing you hadn’t.

Silence has many sounds.

In the months after the war, silence is the sound of icy dread. Of tensely waiting after the slightest sound, your heart thumping wildly. Of the expectation that they’re—that he’s—coming back. Back to laugh in your face. To win for good. To finally cast the Crucio that you never recover from. It’s the sound of knowing something categorically won’t happen, and the Boggart in your mind asking ‘But what if…?’ And it’s terrifying.

As funeral dates are announced over the Wireless, silence is the sound of guilt. Of regret. Of being sick to your stomach. It’s the sound of wondering why you, of all people, survived. The brat. The spoiled git. The idiot who’d been stupid enough to believe it was an honour to be drafted into a war. It’s the sound of wishing someone, anyone could have survived instead of you, because the world was surely a better place without one more snobby, sodding Malfoy.

As you first walk the halls of Hogwarts again, it’s the sound of rejection. Of isolation. Of prejudice. Deserved, of course, but excruciating all the same. It’s the sound of vowing to be different, to be better, whether people noticed or not. Whether they cared or not. Whether they accepted it, or not. As you carry on with your homework—the only constant in your world—it’s the sound of planning to become someone you’re proud of; someone worth his testimony.

Silence has many sounds.

On nights you wake up screaming, it’s the sound of relief that your silencing charm held. That no-one else heard. That you’re alone. Yet it’s the sound of disappointment that no-one’s there. The sound of fear, cold and visceral, creeping deep into your bones again as you wonder whether this is how life is always going to be now. 

It’s the sound of shock when he appears, just as terrified, pale, and sickly as you feel. The sound of tension, awkwardness, and uncertainty. Your history lies heavy between you, taunting you, torturing you, refusing to lie silently. It’s the sound of memories swarming around you. Of regret. Of faint flickers of annoyance that still make old wounds smart. Yet, despite it all, as you sit on different sofas and both stare into the fire that cannot warm you, silence is the sound of a tentative truce forming. It’s the sound of surprised understanding, realising you know exactly how the other feels with a single glance. Of unspoken agreements to let the past stay in the past because neither of you have the energy to argue any longer. And somehow, though all you do is sit in the same room, silence is the sound of cautious solidarity, supporting each other somehow to make it through the night. It’s the sound of an odd new beginning.

Later, in lessons, or the Great Hall, when everyone else chatters happily around you, it’s the sound of your heart still bleeding. It’s the sound of grief still biting deep beneath the surface. It’s the sound of noticing, even from across the room, that he feels the same. As his eyes meet yours, wearily, the smallest hint of suspicion flickering in them through the ocean of exhaustion and pain, it’s the understanding that someone feels the same as you. It’s the sound of comfort as you know for sure that everything isn’t normal, or right, or fine. That life hasn’t just moved on for everyone. It’s the sound of allowing yourself to think ‘it’s okay not to be okay.’

As you gravitate towards each other, out in the grounds, in Hogsmeade, in the common room at night—where somehow, you’ve stopped sitting on different sofas or in different armchairs, but now sit against each other, as if to prove to yourself that you are alive, you aren’t alone, you can survive—it’s the sound of every fibre of your being relaxing a little. Of life being breathed back into you, one slow, agonising inhale at a time—so slow in fact, that you don’t even notice it at first. And of comfort, soft and gentle, caressing away some of the darkest times. It’s tentative, forgiving, and beautiful, and makes existing that little bit easier.

Silence has many sounds.

When life slowly finds a new normal, one where the past isn’t forgotten but the future actually seems brighter somehow, and conversations flow better between you, it’s the sound of confused pauses after revelations of each other’s past. Of quiet, tender moments between shared laughter. Of overwhelming yet inexpressible emotions as you fall in love with each other more and more each day. It’s the sound of silent promises to make the future better, of gratitude to have each other, and of trust that the other will be there, fighting by your side until the very end.

After the fire returns and snarky and sarcastic jibes morph into venomous stabs and arguments spiral out of control, it’s the echo of doors slamming. Of unspoken insults jumping to your tongue. Of your blood boiling and your fists clenching, the red haze of pure anger descending as you wonder how the prick can still be this annoying?! And what on earth did you see in him?!

When the door quietly closes behind him later, much later, and you meet his guarded, wary, yet blatantly insecure gaze, silence is the sound of all the hurt swirling, overwhelming you for the briefest of seconds, before it gives way to remembering. Remembering the love, the laughter, the battles you’ve fought and won together, and how he’s worth so much more than this. It’s the sound of immediately letting go of your pride. Of unspoken apologies. Of wordless acknowledgements that you’re both idiots. Of tension in the air dissolving into easy harmony once more as lips stretch into soft smiles, the kettle’s put on, and hands creep around your waist again. Claiming you. Making you whole again.

Silence has many sounds.

On days when the crowds are overwhelming, when the reporters at The Prophet won’t leave you alone, and the wounds of the war don’t feel like they’ve healed at all, it’s the sound being loved and cared for better than you could ever hope for. Of healing despite the pain, as slow fingers trail lovingly over your skin. As an endless supply of cups of tea are placed beside you without having to ask or even think about it.  

After heated moments, where hands roamed, demanded, pleaded, and took, it’s the sound of unrivalled pleasure. Of resting boneless beside the man you love, wondering how life—once so devastating and harsh—has come to be so glorious, so happy. Of your heart thrumming with joy as you bathe in the afterglow. It’s the sound of savouring each trace of the smell of his sweat, his skin, his sex, because it’s pure him and he is yours. 

And when you pause in your daily life, look up from reading your book, watching the TV, or the conversation slows, in the moments after he kisses you, just because, or as he stares into your eyes, that gorgeous smile tugging at his lips, silence is the sound of happiness. Of intimacy. Of warmth that spreads through your chest to the very tips of your fingers. It’s the knowledge that your every want and need you could ever have is met, and your life is complete. It’s the sound of perfection.

Silence has many sounds, and each has a purpose. But these sounds of silence—the love, the peace, the bone-deep contentment and certainty nothing will ever steal happiness from you again—these sounds are your favourite.

Hope you enjoyed!

[queenangst]

(1) Tell me about your week: Mostly I've been suffering with fatigue and headaches, but I have been working on editing/making my second draft of my original novel (first instalment of a series) when I am able and I went into the city to buy essentials for (2).

(2) Something exciting: Something exciting this is happening is that I am getting a puppy! She's coming home this Thursday and I am so excited! Her name is going to be Isabelle (first name, God's Oath and Beauty) Ai (middle name, Love) and she's a Shih Tzu and Chihuahua cross!

(3) Fandom thoughts: Since it's coming up to Hallowe'en, I have been imagining a ShinKami (because they are my muses right now) fanstory where many of the students and teachers at UA are monsters - vampires, werewolves, dragon-shifters, witches, illusionists, nymphs, etc. In the story, Shinsou is a vampire (Aizawa too) and has received discrimination because of that and his quirk, but, since what monster you are or are not is not mentioned unless good friends, him and Kaminari become friends. (Shinsou became better at blending in so people don't immediately guess he's a vampire anymore.) Then the Bakusquad tell each other what monsters they all are and Kaminari is conflicted - because he's not just human but also from a family of monster hunters (who, to get straight to angst here, have been pretty abusive towards him - like rubbing garlic all over his clothes when he was little to keep vampires away from him, even though he's deathly allergic). The story varies from that point, but that's where it starts!

I don't have the energy to write that story idea myself, as I am already spread thin between my original novel and Risks Worth Taking (which I will update when I am able to, but I am focusing on my original novel for now). But I do enjoy imagining it!

(4) Headcanons: Hmmm. So, I get a lot of headcanons for Kaminari because he reminds me a lot of myself from when I was a teenager (cheerful, outgoing, friendly and lacking a filter). I headcanon him to have ADD (and I *should* headcanon him to be autistic like me, as it would explain the lack of a filter, but I don't). I like the headcanon that he might be gender neutral or a trans guy - but at the same time I also like the headcanon that he's a cis guy that is super comfortable with feminine stuff like make up and nail varnish. All of them work for me! I definitely think he has a sister of some kind, probably older, and he knows how to do domestic chores (if not as well as Bakugo). I also headcanon Kaminari as being from a rich family! It would be a fun twist that someone who blends in so well with the others is actually rich like Iida, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki (just nothing to do with heroes). My favourite headcanons are that (a) he's not seriously flirting with people, he's breaking the ice to befriend them and is just naturally flirtatious beyond that and (b) he gets really flustered and can't flirt back when someone flirts with him!

(5) Stories: I don't know what fandoms, outside of BnHA, you are in. But! I recently read, and am reading the sequels which are even better, of this excellent Draco Malfoy (it is Drarry but not yet) time travel story!

Draco Malfoy and the Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid

All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.

Suddenly, Draco has an unwanted second chance, with a Sorting Hat that doesn't know what to do with him, a certain Muggleborn who won't leave his study table alone, and green eyes he just can't get out of his head. And then there's his new wand, whose choice of him could just mark him as every bit as dark a wizard as his name means he should be.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872387

As for a BnHA story, since I've spoken of ShinKami in (3), I will recommend a ShinKami story which is a Romeo and Juliet situation - and very funny!

Thus With a Kiss, I die by DomineeringScarves

Kaminari finds himself head over heels for the newest addition to their class, Shinsou Hitoshi. Normally the flirty blonde would just present himself with open arms but there's a major problem with his infatuation. There's unspoken rules in 1-A and Kaminari is part of the Bakusquad...whereas Shinsou is a part of the Dekusquad. The two can't be together. It's just not possible. There's no way Bakugou would ever allow one of his extras to date Deku's friend.

There's only one thing left to do, give up and move on. Too bad Kaminari can't seem to escape Shinsou.

Aka the fic where Kaminari is Romeo and Shinsou is Juliet and they have to secretly date so their squads don't fall into an all out war.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993539/chapters/37314002

(6) Yelling: I love you and your stories! Thank you so much!!!

I hope you are doing well! And that this brightens your day!

Sen. x

whooo, long ask! I hope you feel better, but that sounds great otherwise. Congratulations on the puppy & I hope she brings you much joy.

that sounds like a fun AU, it’s certainly the season. sometimes ideas are just as good when they remain in the head - like nice daydream material.

nice headcanons!! I don’t have many for Kaminari myself, I like following other people’s interpretations, but you should headcanon how you want. I’ve never heard someone headcanon about rich!Kaminari much but it could definitely add something interesting to his character/upbringing/interactions. I totally flirt platonically with friends, though only if they’re comfortable with it; that’s very sweet. 

maybe some followers will appreciate the fic recs. I’m happy to share them on the blog of course. 

thanks for stopping by!!!

sleepover weekend

[harrypotterfanfictionwriter]

Monopoly

This one shot is based on above post. Full credit for the idea and headcanon goes to @drarry-or-die

Thank you so much darling for allowing me to use it! I hope you enjoy the fic I have written based on it❤️

"So I brought a game for us to play tonight" he said placing the colorful box on the table.

Draco looked at his boyfriend and then at the box, before just nodding. He had absolutely no clue what the game was, only that it was a muggle game. His boyfriend had explained it at their home, but Harry only managed to make him understand the basics.

"Monopoly?" Lucius drawled, "absolutely not."

"But Lucius wouldn't it be fun to play a game with the family" Narcissa asked, placing a hand on her husband's arm.

"No."

At this Harry spoke up again.

"But it's a game to expand your power and buy all the streets. While you slowly eliminate your opponents by building houses and hotel on your streets so they go broke." he explained to Lucius.

Now Lucius did look interested and both Draco and Narcissa smiled at each other behind his back.

"Well I guess we can play it once" Lucius changed his answer, managing to make it sound like a great favor that he would play with them.

And so Harry got to explaining the rules. When the three purebloods understood it good enough they started to play.

The longer they were into the game the more fanatic Draco and his father became. Each buying more and more streets. When all streets were sold they both started to negotiate with Narcissa and Harry so they would sell some of their streets so the two men could have a complete block.

The first time Lucius came on one of Draco's Street, Harry's boyfriend jumped up and almost screamed his father had to pay.

And so it went on and on, eventually both Narcissa and Harry were broke, but Lucius and Draco kept going. Building more houses and hotels on their streets, making the other pay as much as possible.

Till eventually;

"Ha! I win!" Draco jumped up, with both hands in the air.

And indeed after a quick look at the board, it indeed seemed that his boyfriend had won.

"A rematch. Now" Lucius insisted, and so it started again.

Only to play the game each and every weekend Harry and Draco came to visit.

Find the full series here:

[mymindsmadness]

MyTake!Monday

For those of you that are new here, make sure to also check out WorkOfArt!Wednesday where we feature a Drarry artist that deserves love and recognition, and Fanfiction!Friday where I recommend and summarize a new Drarry fic every week!

MyTake!Monday is just a glorified way of saying that I’m either going to rant about something Drarry related or write a quick Drarry drabble (that’s fund to say). You can suggest topics or ask for opinions by dropping by my ask box! . Anon asks are always open!

Disclaimer: Anything talked about during MyTake!Monday posts are simply that - my take. They are in no way a reflection on the writings of J.K. Rowling, or the thoughts of others in the fandom. Even during topics I feel passionate about, I respect the thoughts, ships, and headcanons of others. Please respect my thoughts as I respect yours. I am always up for a lively debate, but any comments or asks left with malicious intent will be ignored, and I ask that my followers ignore them as well. Thank you!

This week on MyTake!Monday:

That is Not Curry A drabble featuring Auror!Partners Harry and Draco.

 AN: This idea actually came to me while I was cooking. My husband and I were born in the same country, but our backgrounds are fairly different. My family is old world Italian (I was the first in my immediate family on my father’s side to be born in the country), and my husband’s family is deep south (that can trace their roots back several generations in the same town). Being that we’re both ethnically similar, I don’t think we ever thought about the cultural differences we would face. One of the biggest issues we ran into was regarding food.

It got me thinking about Harry/Draco. Like many, I favor Indian!Harry. I wondered what the impact of Harry being half Indian would have on his personal relationships and sense of self. Thus, this drabble was born. 

Just a warning - I’m sick. I’m not sure how much of this is actually going to be cohesive because of that. I’m sorry if it sucks!

 Although Harry was raised by the Dursley’s – though that fact could very much be debated – he had always tried his hardest to stay connected to his father’s side of the family. When the Dursley’s would take Dudley out, Harry would explore the kitchen. It was in one of Aunt Petunia’s cookbooks that he first came across a recipe for curry. He was familiar with the dish – though just so. Occasionally, Dudley would demand Indian take away. It was clear that he only did so to dismiss the dishes as disgusting immediately. He would spit the half-chewed rice out, rounded face squished inward as he declared the spices too bold. He would then turn to Harry and ask if everything about his people was disappointing.

It bothered Harry. He didn’t want it to bother him, but it did. After all, what little he knew about the Indian culture was all he had left that tied him to his father. Perhaps that was why Harry tore the page from his Aunt Petunia’s cookbook and tucked it away deep inside his too-large pockets.

It took Harry nearly a month to gather the spices. He couldn’t very well ask his relatives, and the idea of stealing them left a heavy stone in the bottom of Harry’s stomach. It started with a store – the one on the corner with the signs in a language Harry had never learned to write or read. It was a store he knew his aunt would never visit.

Varun, the owner, agreed to let Harry sweep up the back room in exchange for ingredients. The first time the Dursley’s left him alone, Harry set to work. It took him nearly an hour following the now wrinkled recipe. After the hour was over, Harry peered wearily at his plate. It didn’t look like the dishes they would get from the restaurant. A cautious taste confirmed that no, it was not. The sauce was gritty and the spices out of balance. The only part that seemed edible at all was the chicken, though the sauce made it nearly impossible.

The failure washed over Harry as he cleaned as thoroughly as he could, trying in vain to scrub at a yellowed stain on his Aunt Petunia’s workbench. In the end, it didn’t matter. The house smelled of the fragrant spices long after the Dursley’s returned. His punishment was no dinner for the rest of the weekend. Harry knew the hunger should have bothered him, but it was nothing compared to the distance he felt growing between him and his father’s memory.

Varun watched Harry closely for the week that followed. When Harry didn’t ask for the spices again, he stopped the boy with a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps it was the way Harry immediately dissolved into tears that had Varun sinking to his knees in front of the ten year old. 

“I’m not Indian enough!” Harry had declared, pulling out the worn recipe that could still be seen through the yellow and red stains. “I tried to make it because I just know my father could, but he’s dead and I’m not enough to keep his memory alive!” He sniffled his way through the declaration, not looking at Varun as he flipped the page over.

“That is not curry.” Varun shook his head and carelessly tossed the paper away. “If you want to learn, I’ll teach you.” His voice wasn’t particularly kind or soft, but there was something in the strong reassurance that slowed Harry’s tears. “You are Indian. Curry does not make you Indian. Memories do not make you Indian. You are Indian in your blood and in your heart.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder’s gently. “Tomorrow, you will learn.”

And he did learn. It took more than a day to learn the recipe, and he certainly didn’t get it right the second time either. Several years passed before Harry could remember everything by heart. During that time, he kept visiting Varun. Harry learned what he could about his food and his culture. He learned about Varun’s adult son that lived in the United States with his wife, and about how his mother had taught him how to cook. Most importantly, Harry learned about himself.

“What is that?” Harry’s head lifted from the paperwork that had spread to engulf his entire coffee table.

“Curry.” Draco shrugged off the question has his fingers moved over the takeaway container, his eyes never leaving his own work.

Draco had been Harry’s ministry-appointed partner for a few years now, and he had never known Draco to ask for Indian food. Harry knew for a fact that Draco preferred rich cream-based sauces that spoke of his own French heritage. They had argued about it on more than one occasion. It seemed silly, but it was one of the reasons Harry had never acted on his feelings towards Draco.

They had taken Harry by surprise at first, especially when he couldn’t even remember when ‘Malfoy’ had become ‘Draco’. The attraction was mutual, that much was obvious. There was an almost-kiss after a particularly hard case had nearly gotten Harry killed. In the end it went unspoken that it would never work. They fought constantly, they were partners, and… well, they were different. Their preference if food was just symbolic of how deep their differences ran.

“You don’t like curry.” Harry declared, finally pulling Draco’s stormy eyes upward.

“I like curry well enough. Besides... you like it.” His sharp nose rose a fraction in defiance as Harry leaned across the table to spear a piece of chicken. Looking it over once, he popped it into his mouth.

“That is not curry.” He declared, his nose scrunching against the strangely acidic taste. “I’m fairly sure it’s not even Indian.”

“Oh…” Draco look down at the plate in his hands, thin lips pulling into a deep frown.

Harry knew instantly that everyone was right. He was an idiot. How could he not have recognized the olive branch for what it was? He tried to clear his thudding heart from his throat as he caught Draco’s gaze again. If Draco was willing to meet him halfway… well, he could do that. “I could… I could teach you. Or just cook for you – if you want. I mean, I appreciate that you bought this. It was rude of me to-“

“Okay.” Draco cut him off with a small, humored smile. “Teach me.”

[daisymondays]

Draco/Harry Sunday routine headcanons please!

I ADORE images of domestic Drarry and just the two of them sharing sleepy smiles and soft easy touches

Harry is always the first one awake because he has early mornings engrained into him from the Dursleys, Quidditch training at school and Auror training. He doesn’t mind though because he loves watching Draco sleep and Draco is an awful early riser so Harry has to wake him up slowly but surely by kissing him all over

They always have lazy sex on a Sunday morning and Harry nearly tops because Draco is too sleepy (lazy) to do so. It’s slow and soft, and they’re smiling at each other and laughing softly as they kiss. Nothing ever changes regarding that.

Then they go downstairs, and Harry cooks breakfast as Draco narrates from the Prophet and they both laugh about how fucking ridiculous some of the articles are – Draco’s fave are the ones where Harry’s having an affair. “So, who has a better arse me or Weasley to fuck?” Draco asks as Harry’s taking a bite of his toast and Harry chokes

Sunday afternoons they often have things to do like lunch at the Burrow or the Manor but the mornings are for them

Manor lunches are tense and Harry and Lucius more often than not still end up knocking heads, but the Burrow is warm and welcoming and the Weasleys have accepted Draco as one of their own

The afternoons if they’re alone they’ll either go for a walk or just curl up and watch a film

Harry tries to cook a roast every other weekend if they’re at home because he loves roasts and so does Draco, but if they don’t have a roast for lunch then they’ll have takeaway for supper and watch shitty reality TV that Draco offers a running commentary of (Harry tells everyone he hates Draco’s tendency to do this but he doesn’t)

Sunday mornings after Harry has had an Auror mission are different though because he either didn’t sleep the night before because he’s still running on adrenaline and Draco wakes up when he hears Harry walking around the house (he’s been a light sleeper since Voldemort moved into the Manor) and they go downstairs and Harry will apologise and apologise and Draco will just take him in his arms and they’ll sleep together on the floor – Auror missions often remind Harry of being on the run and he struggles to sleep on a bed. And the next morning Harry will be stiff so Draco will give him a massage and run him a bath, and they’ll drink too much coffee and they won’t say anything but they don’t need to anymore

Sundays are for each other and each other is sometimes all they need

Send me an HP ship or friendship (with a prompt if you want) and I’ll give you HC

[slytherhell]

(drarry) headcanon friday + weekend - not happening; at least not for today.

for anyone who was looking forward to it - i’m sorry to say that i will not be doing  (drarry) headcanon friday/weekend today. too much stuff happend this week and i have WAY to many things to catch up on; i attempted to do so in my free time but it just didn’t work out (and i’d hoped to do it every friday/weekend but uGH-)

perhaps i’ll have a chance to do so in the upcoming week but not today.

[vveissesfleisch]

I started following you on tumblr awhile ago after I got into your Negan fics (WHICH ARE STILL SOME OF THE BEST EVER). But recently I have been feelin some HP(I've fallen in to the energy sucking abyss that is the mobile game) but have never been intrigued by Drarry (I typically don't even read M/M fics). Until now that is. I gave your fic a chance since your Negan ones were so fucking good, and I am so glad I did. I HAVE ALL THE DRARRY FEELS NOW. YOU'VE RUINED ME. INJECT DRARRY IN TO MY VIENS!!

*throws self down on black velvet fainting chaise that I definitely own* oh dear sweet dark lord, you have no idea how much this ask made my fucking day! I’m so glad you enjoy my Negan fics, they are my pride and joy, and I am OVER THE DAMN MOON that you do not regret diving headfirst into my Drarry!!! All my fics are near and dear to me but Drarry is just *clenches fist* so close to my heart because they’re my special boys and I’ve loved/shipped them for so long (literally more than half my life) and this is the first fic I’ve written about them & properly posted in my Adult Era™️, and I can’t even believe people are reading it nonetheless *enjoying* it and I am fully aware that I am Sir Rambles McRunOnSentences right now but I CANT BE BOTHERED TO CARE BECAUSE I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF GRATITUDE AND EMOTION!!!

Thank you thank you thank you for this beautiful ask, and thank you for reading my fics and loving them. And gird your loins for more Drarry this weekend, I’ve finally stopped fussing over and rewriting the new chapter so I’ll be editing it within the next few days >:).

For now, back to work! *clears throat, resumes usual resting bitch face, and turns into a bat*

Edited to add: if you need to cry about gay wizards or have any particularly salient headcanons that are ripe to be shared, I hope you know where to come.

[blackboard-monitor]

Drarry for all the ship questions (or those you want to answer to) Also your new blog background & header look nice! :D

thanks! i can always count on you to enable my shenanigans :D took out the ones i didn’t particularly wanna answer :)

who throws things in a fight?i mean, both of them, if their interactions in hogwarts are anything to go by :D

who goes to their parent’s house for a weekend when things get bad?well, Harry doesn’t have any parents and Draco can’t stand his for any extended period of time (personal headcanon), so there’s not much of a chance for that :D in my mind none of their fights last long enough anyway

who wants to have children? who doesn’t? if both do, how do their goals differentiate?both are hesitant about having kids because they don’t exactly have the best life experiences, and Draco especially doesn’t think he could be a good parent. but once their (Harry’s) friends start having kids they may revisit the subject. and there’s always Teddy Lupin to look after :D 

who is more adverse to physical contact?i feel like Draco is Super Paranoid™ about any public displays of affection whatsoever because What Will People Think??

who hates/dislikes their neighbors the most?Draco isn’t used to having neighbours, so everything they do is Super Annoying and Obnoxious in his opinion. he has an ongoing feud with the lady across the street because he doesn’t like the flowers in her garden. he claims it’s really because he heard her say something homophobic once but no one buys it

who hates/dislikes their significant other’s family?let’s be honest, Harry hates Lucius and at best has mixed feelings about Narcissa. Draco doesn’t blame him

who is most likely to leave when things get rough?Harry will storm out and/or go hang out with Hermione and Ron for a while, but he’s never gone longer than a couple of hours. Draco will just lock himself in a room and refuse to communicate.

who thinks their partner turned out a different person than they thought?they both do. Draco discovers that Saint Potter has weaknesses, fears and insecurities, and Harry realises that Draco’s tendency to be cocky and nasty doesn’t stem from cruelty, but from desperately trying to hide the fact that he doesn’t think he’s good enough

who hates/dislikes their significant other’s friends?Draco doesn’t have a lot of friends going into the relationship, because all his friends were kids of Death Eaters. he learns to get along with Harry’s friends, but he doesn’t particularly like all of them

who wants to go to social gatherings the most?Harry drags Draco to parties and get-togethers with his many friends, while Draco forces Harry to go to fancy Ministry balls and banquets that he inevitably gets invited to

who is most likely to be dishonest?Harry ‘Roonil Wazlib is my nickname’ Potter is a shit liar, so he rarely even tries. Draco, on the other hand, is full of secrets, mostly because he hates to show weakness or vulnerability

who is more emotionally closed off and how does this affect their partner?they both tend to pretend everything is fine when it’s not and to downplay their problems, which are manyfold after everything they went through in the war. they get pretty good at calling out each other’s bullshit, though

who is the dessert person?“Draco, i’m an adult, i can have ice cream for dinner if i want to”Draco rolls his eyes but lets Harry do it anyway, because he knows that Harry certainly didn’t get enough ice cream as a kid

who is more conservative?Draco, obviously. although he’s renounced anything deatheater-y, he still worries a lot about what’s Proper™. Harry couldn’t be conservative if he wanted to, because he didn’t grow up in the wizarding world and certainly not in the Old Money part of it like Draco did

that was fun, thanks :D

[dracolucivs]

Top 10 Drarry headcanons.

draco is a cuddling fiend, harry thinks it’s adorable

harry tries to teach draco how to cook…it always just ends in a huge mess

“honestly, potter, who would ever opt to do something this time consuming and ridiculous when you can just wave your wand and get a much better result?”

harry slowly warming up to all of draco’s slytherin friends and the smile on draco’s face every time he sees them getting along

them fighting over whether to get a dog (harry’s choice) or a cat (draco’s choice), and eventually settling on both

draco being an absolute baby and drama queen when he’s sick, and harry fussing over him 24/7(as if he doesn’t already)

harry threatening to hex anyone anytime someone says something rude to draco about the war or even just looks at him the wrong way

harry kissing draco’s dark mark every night and telling him how loved he is

draco comforting harry after his nightmares

playing quidditch together every weekend

draco and harry just loving each other more than anything and having a happy life together

[drarrymylove]

Sleepover Saturday

It is now Saturday in my timezone. And we’re having a sleepover! Feel free to send me asks: - fmk - have you ever - would you rather - anon (or not) confessions Tell me things:  - talk about school/work - crushes/tumblr crushes - what are you doing this weekend? Want to be Drarry specific? - tell me about your current WIP - have a headcanon you want to share? - fave AU? trope? side characters/side pairings? - send me links to your most recent favorite fan art/fic - i mean we can always talk about my drabbles and fics but you know…only if you want, our you can send/rec me some of your own 

You don’t even have to stick to the list! ((you can blacklist #jeni’ssleepover if you don’t want to see this, I usually don’t get many responses, so it might not spam you at all))

[siriusisntdead]

drarry hc: draco takes all of harry's weasley sweaters. every single one. they all end up on his side of the closet/in his drawers. harry goes through everything every weekend and puts them back where they belong but they always end up back in draco's possession

YES! and draco totally denies that he does this, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that rubbish, Potter”

send me headcanons