plaid swim trunks

Young & Dumb

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

AU: Modern, non-magical, high school AU

Word Count: 1155

Written For: myvegansensesaretingling + whoever else asked me about Drarry that one time


Senior Skip Day is a time-honored tradition.

It typically involved lake-house parties and hipster picnics and vodka-spiked lemonade and cotton-candy colored Polaroid cameras—it was all about girls in crocheted bikini tops and boys in plaid swim trunks, slap-happy sunshine summer shenanigans fit for an American Pie montage, really, because graduation was nigh and most people’s standards were officially lower than Death Valley’s average point of elevation.

Like—take Potter, for example.

There he is, overfilled red Solo cup in hand, shuffling his bare feet and scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck, glancing around the beach like he doesn’t know where to go, which—Draco calls bullshit on, honestly, the whole fucking school has a disgustingly huge hero-worship boner for Potter that’s seemingly impervious to the laws of time and space and logic

Draco scowls into his frozen raspberry margarita.

Fuck Potter.

Yeah.

Fuck him, and fuck his stupid rat’s nest hair and his stupid Meg Griffin glasses and his stupid green eyes and his stupid perpetually tan skin and just—just fuck him, seriously.

Except—

No, no, not seriously, Jesus, Potter had enough groupies clamoring for his attention and inviting him out for fucking ice cream like their vaginas were the secret Thirty-Second Flavor at Baskin-Robbins; he certainly didn’t need Draco to hurl himself into the fray.

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Fic: Had Me A Blast

So this pic has been going around and then I just had to write it.

Blaine and Rachel Anderson-Berry are spending the summer in the Hamptons with their dads like always. The cute new pool boy and landscaper might make their summers a bit more interesting, though. PG-13, ~2700 words

“I’m not leaving this apartment!” Rachel shrieked for the tenth time that morning, prompting a tenth eye roll from Blaine.

“Kitten, you love going to the Hamptons,” their father Leroy said. “You’ve threatened to run away from us and live there forever before.” He and Hiram, their other father, exchanged a knowing look at the bottom of the staircase of their two-story penthouse.

“That was before I got into NYADA! I need this summer to catch up on shows and research all of my professors and classmates so I know what connections they have!” Rachel said. “You’re ruining my chances, Daddy!”

“Want me to go pick the lock to her room?” Blaine offered from his seat on the bench by their front door. “I can probably fireman carry her down to the car if you guys get the doors for me.”

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