#malfoyv

[olivunders]

neville longbottom (b. july 30 1980)

 courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.            the brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who            conquers that fear.

[rogerdvies]

harry potter characters: cedric diggory

"I lost my mind trying to understand yours looking for kindness in your madness looking for kindness in this ravaged world and in the end i lost my life too."

[ruilian]

HP Character Edit → Hannah Abbott

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

[crvcio]

hermione granger for @pocpotterweek partnering with @hpwocnetwork

“oh, honestly, don’t you two read?!”

[winterjilys]

n a r c i s s a b l a c k : the feminine form of narcissus, which comes from the greek myth- narcissus died due to becoming enamored with his own reflection 

texture from @creative-archive

[moonspads]

the w o r l d has no right to my heart (x)

[lizziebennetnotinjapan]

I got really excited for you list, to then be slapped in the face by reality and realize I've read 80% of it already. If you're Drarry trash queen im like loyal trash subject holy hell

((OOC: Welcome friendo. XD I mean, there are probably a million that I’ve forgotten and will have to add later…but there are a reason the ones on my list crop up a lot in recs - because they’re really freaking good!! Also, I’m always open to new fics so feel free to send me any you thought were good and I can add them!

If you haven’t been following the virgin!draco fic by @bixgirl1 and @l0vegl0wsinthedark, absolutely get on that!))

[nevillelongsbottom]

neville, and lush bath bombs: a drabble side to my fic project. Neville’s got kind of a cold house; the floorboards are chilly to bare feet, which is exactly the way he prefers to walk, consciously feeling them under his chubby toes when he wanders along to the kitchen to make up a cup of hot chocolate in his mother’s old Cookie Monster mug or a cup of tea in a mug from his visit to Baltimore. 

Lee isn’t so much used to it, and yelps slightly when he leaves the safe carpeting of Neville’s room; not only does it have its own carpeting, but the layers of Neville’s folded-up clothes that don’t have enough wardrobe space in his child-sized closet. He hadn’t meant to wake Neville, but his boyfriend stirs anyway, stretching out, fists bumping his bedstead as he groans, never used to the morning haze.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Lee says lightly. 

“It’s okay,” Neville mumbles, wiping his eyes as he sits up; he wears a pair of cotton shorts and either a varsity hoodie or slightly too-big graphic T-shirt from Redbubble to bed, and Lee’s pretty smitten with the way he looks, all fluffy hair and round corners - though Lee would be smitten any which way Neville came. “I should make some breakfast and get ready for school.” 

“I should make breakfast,” Lee argues, scratching at his midriff; he has a gathering of dark hair there and Neville struggles not to look. “Since I crashed here. Unexpectedly.” 

Neville blushes. “Only cus I needed you here, so I’ll make it.” This is fine by Lee, in the end; he’s a disaster in the kitchen, whereas Neville treats it like a waltz: he’s dressed and wearing his Vans by the time he gets round to it so that he doesn’t slip on the tiles, spreading a hearty layer of raspberry jam over Lee’s toast. “I’m really sorry about yesterday...”

“Don’t be,” Lee shrugs. “If you’re upset - I mean, that’s what I’m here for. That, and cracking great tunes.” He leans in to nip a kiss at Neville’s jaw. “On a scale of one to Miss Trunchbull, how much is your Gran gonna kill you when I’m gone?”

“She’s just going to do the judgmental look all day,” Neville reckons; Lee finishes making his coffee by adding a touch of milk, adding a little and some sugar to Neville’s mug of tea. 

“You have such an organised breakfast,” Lee marvels. “Mostly at home we just pour cereal and try and shovel it before we have to go to school, which is why it helps that I can drive. Not that the school like me parking a truck, but they can get fucked; I’ll park wherever I damn want to.” Neville lets out a giggle - he’s been thoroughly enjoying watching the interesting unravelling of Lee’s Pickup Truck At School Chronicles, after all - and grabs a plate for the toast and one for his scone, which he butters lovingly before he even sits down.

“I feel sick if I don’t eat in the morning,” he says, finally taking a seat on one of the stools in the kitchen, a gleaning marble modern marvel of modern architecture and his Gran’s bulging wallet. He’s got a cheese scone, slightly dry because it’s yesterday’s, but it’s buttered to the hilt and scatters crumbs when he takes a bite. He switches on the television, too, quietly, his eyes scanning the marquee headlines.

“Where’s your Gran?” Lee asks.

“She’s never up before I go to school. She likes to sleep.” 

“So - you’re alone in the morning?” Lee pauses for a moment, seeming to reel in what Neville’s never noticed so much before. “Fuck, Nev, I’ll drive over here to eat toast with you every morning if you want.” 

Neville flushes all red - “no! I’m fine, I’m fine, I really am, yesterday was just a one-off, I wasn’t feeling too good...” - and he tilts his head away from Lee, dark hair curtaining his eyes. 

“I’m your boyfriend, Nev. I want you to be able to rely on me, and I’m pretty sure I’ve twigged that you don’t like having to rely on me so much, but if that’s what you need, that’s what I’m here for, alright? Maybe later we can work on building you up for a little more independence if that’s what you want, but right now - just let me help you?” Lee reaches over, and their hands graze. “And if that means some more awesome sleepovers, so be it.”

“Okay,” Neville mumbles, taking another bite of scone before resting his head on Lee’s shoulder; he’s never felt as comfortable as he does tucked into all Lee’s nooks and crannies, and he’d spend the whole day just wrapped around Lee like a wiry cat if he could (though, of course, a cat with a rather fluffy belly). “I’m sorry; I just wish I could - be me, but...”

“If you’re not there, you’re not there. It’s okay to have not okay days. We can deal with these.” Lee kisses into the top of Neville’s head; his hair smells of the shampoo he used yesterday, fruity and floral. “Mm. You smell like... a Lush store.”

Neville giggles. “I’ve still got some bath bombs.”

“If it weren’t so damn gay, I’d say we should have a bath together,” Lee says, and Neville lets the irony of the statement past because he’s sure it’s intended; Lee usually doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean or has subconsciously thought through like a new-budded Tennessee Williams. 

“Maybe,” Neville says slowly, trying to avoid the swirl of thoughts in his own head, “we should.” 

Lee bursts into laughter, the way that Neville loves it, and their fingers loop, warm and slightly nervous because they’ve got no idea what this is, the way their stomachs jump and brim with fireworks - it’s so new, fresh, and wonderful; and, honestly, Neville sometimes wishes he didn’t need Lee like a crutch, but sometimes, Lee’s just all he wants.