i'm quiet

Usually Bones is so casual when he’s off duty that people on board can forget that he knows all their personal information. Not that he’d ever misuse it. But one night everyone was very drunk, amd Jim was insisting that Bones couldn’t possibly remember who on board has an appendix. So everyone lined up and Bones walked down the aisle. Yes. Yes. No. No. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No. No. No. You’re species doesn’t have one. Yes. Yes.
100% correct.

I am in my own Harry Potter AU hell.

And just because I can:

“Dad…” 

Malfoy looked up from his desk, quill poised over the parchment as his son hovered by the study door. Aware that he was frowning, Draco lifted his expression into something more neutral. He was vaguely aware of his own father always frowning whenever he’d tried to talk to him as a boy, and he didn’t want Scorpius to one day think the same about him.

“Come in, come in. Shut the door, you’ll let the heat out.” 

The Greengrass estate was a crumbling ruin compared to Malfoy Manner, with only half the library and none of the artifacts Draco had spent the last few years archiving and putting safely away behind spelled glass. But for now it was home, chilly stone walls and all.

“Did you want something?”

“Yes.” Scorpius replied, pausing to tug at the hem of his dark shirt. There’s still a bruise under his eye, faded to be sure, but the mere presence of it made Draco’s heart skip a beat. When he’d seen Severus Potter crawling out of the rubble, face covered in blood and no sign of his own son, he’d known terror like no other.

And Draco Malfoy was intimately familiar with the machinations of terror. He’d been hugged by it once.

“Well,” he prompted, setting aside his work entirely and giving his full attention to his son. “What is it?”

“I want my friends to come visit.”

Draco blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Your…friends?”

“Albus Potter and Rosie Granger-Weasley. I would like them to come stay.”

Draco blinked again. Later he’d laugh—somewhat despairingly into a decanter of fire brandy—at the absurdity of the notion that his boy, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was best friends with a Potter and the hybrid off-spring of a Granger Weasley, but the threat of impeding hysterics was quelled under the defiant gaze of his son, narrow chin lifting at some unspoken challenge. 

“I see. For how long?”

“A…a week…maybe two…They’re going to France for the Quiditch Cup Primaries…” he glanced down and Draco spied the curled up parchment hidden up his sleeve. “So it wouldn’t be for long.”

Draco glanced at his desk, to the fireplace, then back to his son. “I don’t…”

I want my friends…friendshow often had Astoria lamented his lack of playmates as a child, how often had she fretted that Scorpius’ only interaction had been with adults—or books, or enchanting his own toys for someone to play with. And how quickly had Scorpius’ face crumpled at the utterance of two simple syllables. 

“…know if two weeks would be wise, given your mother’s health. She’s still recovering from the move. But I shall discuss it with her, and see what can be done.”

Scorpius stilled, the beaming smile on his face reigned in to something calmer, even now, not wanting to get his hopes up too much. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, we will be good.”

Draco snorted at that, remembering the last time a Malfoy, a Potter and a Granger and a Weasley had been together at their age. “Somehow I doubt it. Go on off you go, go see what your mother is up to. She’s enjoying having you home.”

“And I am enjoying being here,” Scorpius replied, in that curiously courteous and stiff way of speaking he’d always had, even as an infant learning his words. “I am happy to be here, with you, and mother.”

“I’m…very glad to hear it.” Draco replied, unsure what else he was supposed to say to such an open admission said so politely like one was discussing the weather. “Now go on, off you go, I need to finish this manuscript before I lose the thought.”

“You’ll talk to mother though, wont you?” Scorpius pressed from his space by the door. “You’ll ask…”

“Yes, yes.” Draco waved a hand, “I’ll ask if the Potter spawn can come stay with us. Just for a little bit. To say thank you for…everything.”

Reassured, Scorpius left, closing the door behind himself with a firm click. 

Draco waited several more moments, counting to a hundred before opening up the top desk of his drawer and pulling out his correspondence folder, flipping through them until he found the appropriate manila envelope, writing the address of the Ministry Neatly to the front. 

Clearing his throat politely, he composed himself, then tapped it to life with his wand.

“Hello Potter,” he spat with a vicious familiar glee, unable to keep from laughing, “I’m not sure which one of us is going to be more surprised by this turn of events, but I swear to gods if you break my son’s heart by saying no, I will personally send you a red Howler on the hour every hour till the day one of us dies. Now, about dates, the last week in June works well for us…”

Stuff My Dad Said During Hamilton (Act 2)
  • What'd I Miss: This guy sounds like a pompous asshole.
  • Cabinet Battle #1: That's that line you like. The shoe fitting one. You've said that too much...
  • Take A Break: Where's the third sister? Did she die? Is she okay?
  • Say No To This: ...damn...just...damn...
  • The Room Where It Happens: I want to feel bad for Burr but he's reminding me of those 'try too hard' kids. Like you.
  • Schuyler Defeated: I knew he was gonna turn into a huge dick.
  • Cabinet Battle #2: He sounds like you did in kindergarten. "He was my friend first!" I think you said that word for word.
  • Washington On Your Side: LANGUAGE!
  • One Last Time: If only he had known what was going to happen to our country...
  • I Know Him: And here comes the other George.
  • The Adams Administration: Spiteful little dude...
  • We Know: Snitches get stitches.
  • Hurricane: This guy's life kinda sucks...
  • The Reynolds Pamphlet: No one ruining your life? Don't worry! Ruin your own...apparently.
  • Burn: If only she had actually burned him. Like. Revenge bitch.
  • Blow Us All Away: Oh yeah mini Hamiltons.
  • Stay Alive (Reprise): Does...Does everyone die? (Me: Eventually) Okay there's no need for smart ass comments.
  • It's Quiet Uptown: I'm now in like...a state of hurt and anger and...how?
  • Election Of 1800: That first note actually scared me...
  • Your Obedient Servant: Hamilton's disrespect? Doesn't Burr call his mom a whore every five songs?
  • Best Of Wives And Best Of Women: I've never been more emotionally hurt by a musical...
  • The World Was Wide Enough: Ah yes. I shall call this Act, "Stab You In The Heart Repeatedly".
  • Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: ...who the fuck is telling Peggy's story?

Saw the Halloween ask on the arcana blog about what costumes they would wear and I needed to draw them and Faust 🎃

“Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you”

-

Here’s a gift for @galactibun ! Their animatics never cease to take my breath away -w- Tried hard to nail their art style while adding a hint of mine lel. Hope ya like it, ya wonderful bunny :3