#v sorry i wrote this in google docs so i had NO sense of how much i was writing lol

[raleigheverhart]

Location: Hotel Date: Friday, March 29 Time: Post-Game (@sashahartashby​)

There’s a party, and Raleigh should be there. Leave it to the Foxes to fail their way to victory. 

She should be there, but she doesn’t want to be. Sasha had been knocked down and couldn’t get back up. Raleigh had to look away, sitting on the sidelines with her grip on her pom-poms turning her knuckles white, as Sasha leaned on Abby to make her way off of the court. Raleigh isn’t squeamish. Raleigh had watched Sasha fight and draw blood before this season, and she’d been on the edge of her seat and cheering her on. But this isn’t Sasha kissing her with a split lip, bloodied but still victorious. 

This is something else, and she doesn’t like the way it makes her feel. 

She’d had to ask around, to figure out what room Sasha had ended up in, gritting her teeth behind her smile and hoping that nobody asked too many questions. 

Even now, standing outside of the hotel room door, she doesn’t know what she’s doing here. This isn’t what they are to each other. And, in just a few short months, whatever it is they are to each other now will cease to exist. Raleigh will leave Palmetto. Raleigh will move on, and this year with the Foxes will be nothing more than a memory. 

Funny, at the beginning of the year, she wanted nothing more. Now, she’s not as sure.

But she’s come this far already. Embarrassed herself this much. She raps her knuckles against the door, trying to keep it as quiet as she can. “You weren’t answering your texts,” she says, when the door opens. “And then I realized you probably couldn’t, so—” here I am. Like that’s any explanation at all.

[retvenkos]

fanfic ask meme: tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, september, october, november, yesterday, tomorrow! (sorry if that's a lot, I just love your writing and want to know more - also, hi Olive!)

CLARA! I haven’t talked to you in forever, lol, I hope you’re doing okay!

tuesday: name a fic you have posted which you think is overrated?

okay, unpopular opinion, but my most overrated fic is easily “it felt right... it still does.” which is actually a headcanon set, but when you see the number of notes this post has gotten me, you’ll understand why it takes the cake. it’s just overrated because i wrote it a couple years ago and it’s not my best work, but it keeps getting notes to this day, every time i check the activity page and see what my most popular post is for the month, it’s this one.

wednesday, thursday, and september have been answered here

friday: most self-indulgent fic you have ever posted?

okay, bit of a trip down memory lane, here,,, in 2017 (?) i wrote a vvv indulgent fic for my friends and i and posted it on fanfiction.net. it was 56 parts and included no less than 4 oc’s in a marauder era fanfiction for harry potter. my friends and i were the ocs, and it was my first foray into fanfiction and insert writing. it has since been taken down because i have a healthy amount of shame, but it still exists in my google docs and my friends have been bugging me to rewrite it and actually finish it (i had about 20 more parts planned - it was an experience™).

october: name the darkest or angstiest fic you have written and/or posted?

ooooh,,, that’s hard. i don’t really do dark stuff so much as i do angst, and i do love to pepper it in everywhere i go, so this is hard. i would say that i have a lot of angst in my tuck everlasting masterlist because i did a whole week in august dedicated to angst for them. i also think it’s worth plugging mosaics, again, because that’s pretty angsty, but i also think that anymore and betrayal are pretty sad? those are both hadestown fics. another worth mentioning is probably eternity for allison hargreeves?

i don’t know - i have a lot of soft angst, if that makes sense, so there’s a lot to choose from. i’m also indecisive as hell if you haven’t noticed. i don’t really to dark fic, so you won’t find much of that.

november: do you have any rituals or requirements for getting in the mood for writing?

i don’t? i mean, i definitely prefer to write in my room or my back to the wall so that no one can look over my shoulder, but i have written everywhere and it’s really just about when i get struck with inspiration. i used to write in class if i had the time - on the chromebook, too, no shame (i’m a mess). i used to write in the library. i’ve written in the car. my mom knows i write fanfiction, so it’s not like i keep it a secret, and my siblings don’t care so i’m free to do it most everywhere.

tomorrow: favourite ways to write fluff?

okay, here we go. for fluff, i mostly write the more content fluff? like, they’re usually one shots, so it’s just a really comfortable, happy moment rather than anticipation and that kind of forward moving fluff. like, there are rarely stakes when i write fluff. it’s kind of a stagnant, suspended moment that just exudes warmth. i very much write that fic that has no plot, just warm vibes. all i want is for my characters to be cuddling, having tired conversations while the fire dies in front of them. plot? we don’t need her! all we need is every conceivable synonym for “smile” and 10 different ways to describe warmth. 

yesterday: favourite way to write angst?

my favorite question that is also simultaneously the hardest to answer? i guess i would say i write angst slow - and i mean i choose words that make me read it slowly. it’s similar to how i write fluff - i feel like melancholy and contentment are stagnant emotions, and so i try to make the reader go slowly through the thought process. My favorite thing when writing angst is metaphors!!! anything to make the reader feel heavy. 

I just noticed the other day that I have used the phrase “their mind was a cavern that ate itself raw” or “their mind was a cavern and ate at all they were” no less than four times in completely different projects, so that’s something kind of odd to note.

also, angsty fics are my longest ones because it’s always a journey - i like to explain why their emo, and maybe they don’t always get a happy ending, but you understand their grief. angsty fics are the hardest to end because i spend a lot of time in retrospect - i like to start the fic when they’re at their worst, emotionally, and then give context - so it’s hard to find a natural stopping point.

but yeah! those are my thoughts! (and don’t feel bad about giving me so many, i love these prompts and want to answer them!)

[jenanigans1207]

With Great Hexpectations [Drarry]

Wow, can you believe it? I write things other than Klance? Sounds fake, I know!

I actually started this a long time ago and never finished it. I just discovered it in my google docs, loved it and decided to go for it. So if it seems a little disjointed at one point that's likely my old writing style meeting my new one. I think it's pretty clear to tell where that is. (Also I forgot how I was originally planning to end it and had to make up a whole new ending so...) Also I wrote this in present tense which I almost never do so I'm sorry if there are a few slip ups in there to past tense!

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! 

I'm sorry for the terrible title, too, by the way. I know it's terrible but I hate titles and they're hard so here we are.

i.

Everyone knew. They never said anything, of course, but it was no secret. On nights when Draco didn't make it back to the Slytherin Common Room, nobody wondered where he was. He was safely tucked away in bed next to none other than Harry Potter, staring at the ceiling and fighting off feelings of remorse.

He had done a lot of things in his life; a lot of things he regretted terribly. More than that, though, he knew there were a lot of things that were going to be asked of him— things that would take away what little humanity he had left. Fear consumed him and he was suddenly freezing, despite the heavy blanket thrown over him and the warm body pressed to his side.

Draco begins to wonder how it is that the Chosen One could possibly love him— him, the antithesis of everything Harry stands and fights for.

Just as these thoughts are starting to overwhelm him, he feels himself being pulled to his left. He turns his head to see green eyes staring back at him from under a mop of sleep-mussed hair. Harry hoists himself a little higher in bed and pulls Draco the remaining distance to his chest, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and running his other hand from the top of Draco's head to down between his shoulders in a slow, soothing motion. Draco lets out a shaky breath and buries his head in Harry's chest without a word.

It always happens like this: Harry wakes up just as Draco is about to be consumed by his negative thoughts and his fears (Draco has no idea what wakes Harry every time but Merlin's Beard is he always thankful for it), pulls him close and just whispers quietly to him.

"It's alright," Harry murmurs against his ear, the soothing motion of his hand not wavering. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You're not a bad person."

"Yes, I am." Draco chokes out, his words thankfully muffled by Harry's shirt.

"No," Harry coos, tightening his grip around his lover's shoulder, "You're not. You're a good person and I promise you, we will get through this together."

Draco lets Harry's comforting words lull him to sleep.

ii.

"You know, you sure spend an awful lot of time with Potter now," Pansy drawls, leaning her elbows on the table and staring at Draco over her plate of breakfast. Draco doesn't know what to say in response to that, so he sneers instead. "Are the two of you dating now?"

"I—" Draco stops and thinks for a moment. Were they dating? They studied together, they went to Hogsmeade together, they shared a bed, for Merlin's sake, but they had never actually discussed whether or not they were dating.

Pansy, seeming to understand where Draco's thoughts were taking him, raised an eyebrow, "You haven't talked about it? What do you do when you're up in Gryffindor tower all night, then?"

Memories of the previous night flash through Draco's mind. He knows Pansy is thinking of something much dirtier, but he lets her keep her images. Telling her what actually happened somehow felt wrong— like he would be letting her in on one of their most intimate moments. Harry always told him there was nothing to be ashamed of, but Draco still wasn't willing to share that soft side of Harry with anyone else.

"Oh look," Pansy leans back, "Here he comes now. Looks like you'll finally get your chance."

As if on cue, Harry walks up to the table, rucksack slung over one shoulder, tie crooked. "Ready to go? We need to work on our Herbology assignment."

Professor Sprout, seeming to have a sense of humor, had paired the two up for a Herbology project in which they were charged with raising a plant together. "Sure," Draco muttered, grabbing his own rucksack, shooting Pansy a final look and trailing Harry out of the great hall.

iii.

They had been sitting in silence in the library for twenty minutes. Harry, to his credit, was at least attempting to work on the Herbology assignment. Draco was staring blankly at his book, mind wandering frequently back to what Pansy had said. How had he never thought to clarify this with Harry?

"Potter, are we—" He began, only to cut himself and turn slightly red.

Harry looked up from his book, green eyes questioning. "Malfoy?"

For a long time, Draco had bristled every time Harry referred to him by his last name. It still made him feel like they were enemies. He had said so to Harry at one point and Harry was more than willing to give Draco a try, but that felt even more wrong to both of them and Harry kept slipping up and saying Malfoy anyways, so they had agreed to just stick with what they knew.

"That is, er, I was wondering..." Draco averted his eyes back to his textbook, the intensity of Harry's stare making him more nervous than he already was. "You know, we spend a lot of time together and we do all these things, but are we, you know... dating?"

Harry’s eyebrows rise in surprise and Draco curses himself for asking. He should have just left it alone, but now he’s gone and spoiled a perfectly good thing. Typical.

“Well, yeah.” Harry replies, sounding amused. “At least, I thought we were.”

This time it’s Draco’s turn to look surprised. He clears his throat and meets Harry’s gaze head on. “Yes, well, so did I. I was just… checking.”

It starts as a small tilt of his lips but soon Harry isn’t just smiling, he’s outright laughing. Laughing so loud a few people glance their way in the library and shush them. Harry clamps a hand over his mouth and tries to muffle his laughter while Draco stares on, a mixture of anger and bemusement at his apparent boyfriend’s laughter.

Finally, when Harry composes himself again, he reaches out and grabs Draco’s hand on the table. Draco considers pulling it away, but they’re dating and everyone already knows anyways, so there’s no reason for him to. “I’m sorry,” Harry says, the smile still on his face, “I just thought it was one of those things, you know? That went without saying?”

“Right, right,” Draco replies, “I knew that.”

And that was that.

iv.

Except, that wasn’t that.

Because, even though Harry said they were dating and seemed completely okay with the fact that it was unofficially official, Draco isn’t okay with that. He is dating Harry bloody Potter, and Harry deserved the best. So, he had began planning almost immediately and now his plan was ready. His only problem was getting Harry to go with him, but he had an idea for that, too.

“Hey Potter,” Draco calls as he caught up to Harry in one of the hallways.

Harry turns to look at him, his two best friends flanking him. They still couldn’t go a full day without antagonizing each other— Draco suspected they never would be able to— and that worked perfectly for him. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I saw you try that spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Pretty Pathetic, I’d say.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry challenges, taking a step towards him, “And you think you could do it better?”

“No, I know I could.” Draco remarks, his infamous smirk adorning his lips.

“Why don’t you prove it then, Malfoy?” Harry snaps. He is closer now and Draco can see that it is friendly rivalry reflecting in his eyes, not the old hatred. Still, Harry couldn’t turn down a challenge when presented with one.

“Fine,” Draco says. “Tonight. Room of Requirement.”

“Why there?”

“So that way nobody else has to watch you get your ass kicked.”

Harry chuckles dryly, “You just don’t want anyone else to see you lose,”

“We’ll see, Potter. When you’re limping tomorrow, they’ll know who won.”

“You’re on,” Is all Harry says before stalking off again.

v.

The hallway is cold, and Draco paces back and forth in front of the door to the Room of Requirement. The doorway had appeared for him after a few moments, but he refuses to enter without Harry. He had sent Harry a note in their Potions lecture to specify the time. Draco had come a few minutes early but Harry is still a few minutes late.

Finally he comes marching down the hallway, wand in hand. Draco is relieved to see that he is alone.

“Ready to lose, Malfoy?”

Draco doesn’t say anything. Instead, he steps aside and gestures to the doors with a flourish. Harry squares his shoulders, throws the doors open and barges in. Draco follows him in and nearly runs headfirst into his back when Harry stops suddenly. The doors swing shut behind them and fade back into the wall.

“What is all this?” Harry asks, looking around.

The room is simplistically beautiful— and stereotypically romantic. The lights are dim, save for the candles that filled the room with beautifully flickering light, and rose petals are scattered all over the ground. Sitting in the middle is a table, decorated with a simple red tablecloth and a vase of roses in the middle. Two chairs sit in front of two plates of delicious looking food, and two goblets sit next to the plates, filled with wine.

Draco reaches out and grasps Harry’s hand, “This is all for you.”

“For me?” Harry asks, turning to stare at Draco with wide green eyes, “But why?”

Instead of answering right away, Draco leads Harry to the table and they take their seats at opposite ends. Draco looks across the table at Harry and thinks for a minute that he’s so lucky— and it’s such a rare thought that it startles him.

How is he lucky? He’s indebted to Lord Voldemort, cursed more people than he would ever like to admit, and likely going to die at a very, very young age. And yet, somehow, he had won the heart of the Chosen One— the hero of all heroes. He somehow managed to get Harry Potter to sit across from him in the Room of Requirement and stare at him with loving green eyes over a romantic candlelit dinner. That’s how he’s lucky.

Corralling these thoughts, Draco finally speaks. “I know you’re fine with how things are, Potter. But I wanted to do it right. I wanted it to be officially official.”

“Wanted what to be?” Harry presses.

“Us,” Draco answers honestly. “I want to officially ask you and so I’m bloody well going to.” Their eyes lock across the table, “Harry Potter, will you be my boyfriend?”

Even in the candlelight, Draco sees the way Harry’s eyes water. “Yes,” He whispers breathlessly.

And Draco is instantly on the other side of the table, hands gripping Harry’s face and kissing him because now they are actually dating. Harry Potter, his boyfriend. Harry is laughing and kissing him back and for a moment, Draco has never been happier.

Finally they separate and eat the meal laid before them. They talk idly over dinner and Draco realizes how nice it is just to be close to someone. As they head to the door, however, Draco stops Harry.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, Potter,” He warns, and Harry grins, “I swear to Merlin I’ll hex you.”

Harry only replies with a kiss before they slip back into the real world.

vi.

Harry’s already going to be late to class. He’s in the bathroom, washing his hands in a rush when he hears the door shut and the unmistakable sound of a spell being cast. He glances up in the mirror just in time to see Draco turning away from the door and walking further into the bathroom.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, “We’re going to be late to Transfigurations. McGonogall’s going to kill—”

Draco doesn’t pause or slow down at all. He continues striding into the room confidently, roughly grabbing Harry’s shoulders and throwing him against the nearest wall. Harry opens his mouth to protest but is met with a searing kiss instead. Draco presses firmly against Harry, his hands holding Harry’s head in place as he continues to press kisses against his lips and jawline. Harry instinctively reaches up and laces his fingers through the silky blonde locks. Draco always complains when Harry plays with his hair, insisting that he has to look presentable since Harry’s hair is always an incorrigible mess.

Finally, there’s enough of a break that they can talk, “What’s this about?”

Draco meets his eyes, “I know you told Granger and Weasley” he says.

Harry freezes for a moment before smiling sheepishly, “Honestly Malfoy, you couldn’t expect me to not tell anyone.”

“I believe I promised to hex you if you told anyone, did I not?” Draco pulls away just as suddenly as he arrived, flourishing his wand. Harry faintly hears the door click open. “You better watch your back, Potter.”

vii.

The rest of the day goes on without event and Harry forgets completely about the threat of a hex looming over his head. He hustles out of his last class of the day, nearly darting through the hallways to get to the Great Hall in time for dinner. He’s not particularly hungry— he had a free period just two hours previous and ate then— but he doesn’t want to miss the daily routine of eating with Hermione and Ron.

He’s just about to enter the Great Hall when he faintly registers a voice calling his name. Before he has a chance to figure out what words follow his name, his feet freeze to the ground and he nearly topples forwards. He pinwheels his hands for a moment before stabilizing and looking around.

Across the entrance is none other than his blonde boyfriend, wand out and smug grin on his face. “I thought I told you to watch your back, Potter.”

“Malfoy!” Harry roars, pinning the boy with a malicious look. “Undo the hex right now.”

But it’s too late. Students are gathering and chuckling at the Boy Who Lived. Draco crosses the hall slowly, circling around Harry as if to admire his handiwork. Harry is outright fuming by the time Draco comes to a stop in front of him, smug grin having spread even wider across his face.

“Aren’t you going to head to dinner, Potter?” Draco drawls, laughter lacing his voice. “Oh, wait.”

“Let me go, Malfoy.”

“No,” Draco says, before adding, “But maybe I’ll feel more generous after I eat.”

He turns to head to dinner and Harry all but growls after him. “If you don’t let me out, Hermione will when she comes along.”

A moment passes before Draco backtracks and leans in so close to Harry that his lips are brushing his ear. “No, Potter, she won’t. I’ve had a little chat with Granger and I think you’ll find that you’re at my mercy tonight.”

A slew of negative phrases runs through Harry’s mind but Draco has already retreated into the Great Hall and taken his seat, preventing Harry from using any of them.

viii.

It took Draco nearly an hour to finish eating and exit the great hall. In that time, Harry had come up with his revenge and was nearly giddy to use it. Nearly the entire student body had walked past him, a few offering to free him from the hex but he always refused. If Malfoy wanted a public battle, he was going to get one. Harry would absolutely rise to that challenge and he intended to win.

“Well, would you look at that,” Draco drawls as he finally exits the great hall at last, his tie hanging a little looser around his neck. Harry refuses to focus on that, “So much for being Mr. Popular, huh? Not a single person bothered to undo this hex on the Chosen One.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, trying his absolute best to bite back a grin. “I guess nobody likes me as much as you do.”

Instantly, Harry sees the color draining out of Draco’s face. His pale hair and skin make his eyes pop out even more than usual. “Surely I don’t know what you mean, Potter.”

“Oh give it up, Malfoy, the whole school knows we’re dating.” Harry replies breezily, reaching forward to try and grab a handful of Draco’s robes.

“Yes, that may be but—”

“I guess I should say they assume we’re dating. I don’t think they know about the room of requirement, though. You remember: the candlelight, the flowers, the romantic dinner set for—”

Draco is immediately in front of Harry, faces so close that their noses are practically brushing. At this point Harry can’t stop the grin from spreading across his lips as the crowd of students that has formed around them watches on with unadulterated glee. He can hear the whispers spreading around them now. Harry didn’t care— he was used to being the subject of gossip. He supposed Malfoy was, too, but it seemed to burrow a little deeper under his skin. If Harry had to guess, he would say it was because the rumors about him that normally spread were awful and entirely untrue.

“Don’t you dare—” Draco hisses.

But Harry is undeterred. In fact, it spurs him on. He is nothing if not competitive, after all and Draco, of all people, should know this. “Don’t I dare what, Malfoy? Tell the school how I feel about you? I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I bloody well want to. I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

Draco reaches into his robes and pulls his wand out, hastily muttering under his breath and freeing Harry from the hex. Harry adjusts himself, finally able to move again, but he doesn’t go anywhere. “Just go back to your common room, Potter.”

At this point nearly the entire great hall has emptied out and pooled around them in a large circle. Harry can see Hermione and Ron nearby as well as Crabbe and Goyle no doubt waiting for a command from their fearless leader. It is exactly like so many situations they’d found themselves in before— except this time it isn’t hatred welling up in Harry’s gut. It isn’t animosity, disgust or even disdain. The feeling that was slowly uncoiling inside of him is entirely different.

He looks across at Malfoy and all he sees is Malfoy in the middle of the night, hair messy but eyes wide awake. He thinks of Malfoy smiling down into his textbook after reading a note Harry had sent across the classroom. He thinks of the weight the other boy carries on his shoulders and the way the world constantly and consistently underestimates him. Harry is the chosen one, but he isn’t anywhere near as strong as Draco and he knows it. He looks at the situations Draco has been thrust into and wonders how he would’ve handled them. Surely not as gracefully.

“No,” Harry says in a moment of boldness. The feeling in his gut is slowly seeping into every inch of him, making him ignore the weight of all the stares on his back. He meets Draco’s gaze head on and he can see the question in his eyes, can feel him wondering exactly how Harry is going to embarrass him next. Harry smiles, dropping his voice so that it’s clear it’s meant for Draco and only Draco. “I loved our date in the room of requirement. I love our study dates. I love waking up to you in the middle of the night, Malfoy. I love it all and I’m not going to apologize for that and I’m not going to shy away from that and if you want to hex me again, feel free to do so because I won’t take it back.”

“Potter—”

But Harry isn’t done. “I will say it every day if I have to, but I love all of those things. And most of all, I love you, Malfoy.”

The words slip out suddenly and Harry almost wishes he could take them back, Not because they’re untrue but because he feels like it should have been said more intimately, in private sometime between just the two of them. But then he remembers that he’s Harry Potter and this is his supposed nemesis, Draco Malfoy and, even though he may not like it, he realizes that a public declaration is the absolute epitome of them as people and certainly as a couple.

Draco is staring back at him, shell-shocked, lips parted in surprise. The entry hall has gone silent as they watch on, waiting for Draco’s response. Hair can feel his breath coming is shallow bursts as he waits for some sort of response. As the seconds tick on, he finds himself wishing he were facing a dragon during the triwizard tournament again because that was infinitely less stressful than this.

Finally, finally Draco moves. He closes the already miniscule distance between them and catches Harry in a kiss nearly as searing as the one they’d shared in the bathroom earlier in the day. Harry finally grabs that fistful of robes he’d been reaching for earlier, tugging Malfoy until they were flush together and kissing him back with all the fervor in the world. As Draco threads his fingers into the hair at the base of Harry’s neck, the entire hall erupts into cheers around them and Harry can feel the smile on Draco’s lips as they kiss again.

And, finally, that really is that.