Prelude, Brynne Rebele-Henry

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

Now that I’m out of school, I find myself desperately wanting to make things. Maybe because I work in software which is far too intangible. Maybe because I neglected my creative side for years while pursuing academic excellence. Maybe because I’m struggling a bit with life in general, and creating things for fun grounds me. So that’s how I’ve ended up with like 4 different fiber arts projects going, and I’m teaching myself German, and I’m taking a creative writing course, and I’m rereading a childhood favorite series. And it makes me so happy.

So go make things. Make them badly. Start projects and leave them half-finished for months, or finish them and marvel at the lopsided, messy, beautiful thing that you and only you made with your own two hands. Pick up that new hobby you’ve always wanted to try, be inspired by a random Instagram post of someone else’s art and try to replicate it, take a community class that sounds half interesting.

life is too short to only do one thing. Make the most of your time.

New Days

The second part from my first Draco x !freader it's here...

Hope you like it!!

(ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE)

Part I

1,4k words

Your daily routine hadn't changed much since your encounter with Draco Malfoy, well it hadn't changed if you didn't count all the times since then that you spent anywhere quite far away with that blond who made you shiver.

The rumour had already spread around the school, your Ravenclaw beau hadn't wasted any time, but you were fine with the situation as long as people talked from afar and didn't bother you.

But that day you had to face your friend's interrogation, at least she deserved answers.

“How long have you been with Malfoy behind my back?” she asked without understanding how or when that had happened.

“Almost two weeks.” You answered with a face as red as a tomato and fiddling with the food on your plate. Feeling Draco's eyes on you in the Great Hall, whenever you were apart, hadn't helped you to hold normal conversations.

“So, the mark on your neck wasn't a mosquito?” she glanced at you somewhere between amused and embarrassed.

“No…” you confessed, remembering the number of hickeys Malfoy had devoted himself to leaving on your neck, marking you as his own.

“I can't believe it.” she laughed out loud. “Who made the first move?”

“He took the initiative and I did the rest.” you said proudly.

“Look at you... And I thought you only had eyes for the characters in those novels you read.” she mocked you.

It was true that the only person who had aroused your fascination was the famous Slytherin. You didn't know why, but before you knew it, your gaze was already following him everywhere, trying to decipher what it was hiding behind those cold and lonely eyes.

The same seemed to have happened to him, or so he confessed to you on one of your nocturnal escapades. He didn't understand how anyone could look at him with such indifference, and he promised himself that he would get some kind of reaction from the face he had fallen in love with.

You two still had a deal to keep, the Yule Ball was in less than three days. The Heads of Houses had already started to teach you the necessary rules, though you could only think about what Draco would look like in a suit.

Oh, hell! You hadn't even considered what you were going to wear, your head had been occupied with far more amusing thoughts.

That evening your friend came along with you to Hogsmeade, your parents had sent you some money and you were hoping to find something decent at Gladrags amongst all those socks.

You wanted to dazzle Draco, to see his pupils dilate in your presence so that he could think of nothing but you. So you went to great lengths to find a dress to match the situation.

As you imagined, there was hardly anything worthwhile left on the hangers in that shop. You went round and round, searching every possible nook and cranny, but nothing. Just as you were about to give up, a piece of blue cloth, hanging on a nearby rack, caught your eye. You couldn't even get your hands on it before a group of Slytherin girls who had been lurking around the shop got to it before you could.

"Did you want this?” one of them asked you mischievously. “Well you wouldn't know how to wear it anyway, some people just aren't cut out for classy clothes.”

You were caught unawares. It was the first time you had ever been the target of a Slytherin and you thought you knew why.

“Why don't you mind your own business?” Your friend stood up for you.

“Give it up, it's not worth it. Some people have too much time on their hands.” You stopped her before things got ugly.

It couldn't bother you any less, that attempted sabotage only meant that they knew Draco was no longer on the market.

You left the shop disappointed that you hadn't found a dress for the ball. Although the bad mood lasted as long as it took you to find Draco strolling around Hogsmeade with Crabbe and Goyle.

“Well, well, but who do we have here?” his expression turned from his typical frown to a warm, relaxed smile as you approached him.

You didn't miss the surprised faces of Malfoy's "friends" at his change of mood. You were more than pleased to know that this was a side of Draco that only you could experience.

"We had shopping to do." you explained. "But, we were just on our way back to Hogwarts."

"Empty-handed?" he wondered, giving you a suspicious look.

"You should tell him." your friend whispered in your ear.

“Tell me what?” you noticed his brow furrowing. You didn't want Draco to know what happened, you weren't a little girl who needed his protection, but it was already too late.

“Could you at least buy me a butterbeer?” you sighed a little wearily at the number of events that had happened in such a short time.

Your friend took that proposal as a sign to get back on her way. She didn't want to come between the lovebirds. As for Crabbe and Goyle, all it took was a "Disappear" from the blond and within seconds it was just the two of you.

"You should be nicer to them," you smiled as you realised how childish Draco could be sometimes. He was so eager for you two to be alone that he didn't even bother to hide it.

"They're used to it." he defended himself as he took you by the hand and led you in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. You intertwined your fingers with his and let yourself be swept away with an idiotic grin on your face.

For a few seconds you regretted your request. There, in those snowy streets, it was just you, Draco, and the feeling that the world belonged to you and the slytherin alone. You didn't want it to end.

He sensed your body's resistance and turned to you. He caught you in his arms, grabbing your chin and forced you to look at him. His cheeks were red with cold, his eyes tinged with worry and fear...

"Have you had enough of me?" he asked bitterly. You blinked in confusion, what the hell was he talking about? You cupped his cheeks with your hands, making him shiver with the warmth you radiated.

“As if that were possible... “ you whispered, looking him in the eyes, to make your message clear. You had never been aware of how lonely Draco felt until you started dating him, but what broke your heart the most was seeing how he was ready for you to leave him at any moment. “It is you, Draco Malfoy, who will not get rid of me so easily.” you threatened him.

Without you expecting it he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you as if his soul went into it. If you didn't know how proud the Slytherin could be you would swear that for a second you saw a tear fall down his cheek, but trapped against his chest, you couldn't see anything, only feel Draco's heartbeat thundering against your whole body.

“If we stay here much longer we'll freeze, and I don't want you to blame me if you catch a cold.” He broke the embrace and without waiting for a response, he took you by the hand and led you to The Three Broomsticks. Someone had suddenly become shy and you couldn't help but smile.

Once there, finally with a butterbeer in your hand, he forced you to tell him what had happened to you before you met. The Slytherin had too good a memory to forget the incident. You explained to him, somewhat embarrassed, how you had completely forgotten to buy a dress for the Yule Ball and how the only thing you could find in the shop had been taken from you by a group of Slytherins.

“y/n, tell me who they are and I swear they won't dare show their faces in front of you ever again.” The knuckles of his hand turned white and his body language adopted his father's gestures.

“Don't even think about it.” you tried to calm him by taking his hand and interlacing your fingers. "But..." you put a finger to his lips to shut him up. “I want all your attention on me, I don't want you to even think about them.” you interrupted him. Draco grinned slyly, every day he was more and more sure that he had found the right one.

“Don't worry sweetheart, you're already the only thing I think about all day long.” he confessed before kissing you, the taste of butterbeer intensified in your mouth accompanied by an overflowing warmth.

every day i wake up and drink my silly little coffee while God eats my heart like a pomegranate in front of me

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

— Eduardo C. Corral

need a fleabag rewatch desperately and soon. to deal with this horrible feeling that i am a. greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, morally bankrupt woman who can't even call herself a feminist. or something.

i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here