Harry Potter felt like
he was going to pass out from exhaustion.
He was panting through
his gritted teeth, his fringe sticking to his forehead, and he felt so hot he
was sure he could bake eggs right on his stomach if he wanted to.
Draco was no better,
his breath ragged, his eyes closed in concentration, his normally
perfectly-done hair a ‘I just had sex and
I forgot to brush it afterwards’ mess.
(Which would’ve turned
Harry on, if he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied at the moment.)
“Harry,” Draco grunted,
his hips snapping forward, ignoring Harry’s cries of pain at the movement. “C’mon,
we’re almost there –“
Harry groaned with him,
feeling as though he was going to faint where he stood. His legs, anyway, felt
like they were about to turn themselves off for the night, regardless whether
he would permit them to do so or not. “Harder!” he finally yelled at his boyfriend.
Draco did, pushing
forward once more, with a cheeky grin on his features.
arched his back, his hips receiving the harsh treatment, and he groaned, “ohhh,
mhgod, Draco -”
When Draco finally
stopped pushing, Harry breathed in, filling his lungs with air they desperately
needed, and he glared at his boyfriend through his fringes. “You did that
on purpose,” Harry growled.
“What can I say?” Draco
grinned. “I did live to torment you.”
“Prick,” Harry said, and then, grinned back. “I could let go right
now, though. How’s that for revenge?”
paled, his eyes widening in the dark. “Oh, no you don’t. If you do, you’ll kill
“Which is exactly why I
would let go.”
“- and you are too
young to be a widower.”
“We’re not married,
“We could be.”
All Harry could do was
gape at him. When Draco just stared back, he finally croaked, “Did you just
propose to me?”
“Er,” if Draco would’ve
had his hands free, he would’ve hid his blushing face. Luckily for Harry,
though, he couldn’t, so he stood there, on the stairs, his hair a mess, his fluffy
socks on, his T-shirt so wide it was falling off his shoulder, and blushing. “Well, it seems that I did.”
“Alright.” Harry said
then, and he grinned, feeling as though his face was about to break in two. “Alright,”
he repeated when Draco just kept staring at him. “Let’s get married.”
“Fuck,” Draco cursed, a
shit-eating grin mirroring Harry’s. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Harry
sighed, “I would kiss you, if we weren’t currently in the middle of getting our
couch in our apartment.”
Draco, his grin still
shining as bright as the sun, flipped the couch to the left, and manoeuvered it
so that he could hold the couch in one hand, while grabbing his wand with the
other. “You are lucky you are engaged to someone as smart as I am,” Draco
drawled cheerfully – how any person could do that, was a miracle to Harry – and
he waved his wand. “We could just shrink this and make out on the stairs.”
“And why,” Harry said
exasperatingly, his mind focused only on engaged,
engaged, engaged – “didn’t we think of this before getting this thing up
three sets of stairs?”
“Because, Harry,” Draco
said airily, his wand snapping in the air with a non-verbal incantation, “I
still quite enjoy watching you get all riled up.”
The couch shrank,
leaving Harry standing a few steps above Draco, smiling and smiling and smiling
at his fiancé. “Now that’s over,”
Harry finally said, opening his arms and beckoning Draco, “come here and kiss
Draco sprinted up the
stairs, crashing into Harry so fast he nearly toppled them both over.
Please stop screaming, I'm in a very intense debate about the merits of socialism with an online friend, and I can't concentrate with you making such a racket.
Socialism? Aren't you incredibly rich and vain?
I'm a Trotskyist, you fool.
Who cares! My dad's alive!
I wasn't aware that your dad was dead?
Neither was I. I thought he had just abandoned me and my mom all those years ago. I have quite a story about it. When I was about 14, my dad took me on a road trip to go to IHOP for a delicious breakfast. After we had finished, he got up to use the bathroom and never returned. He left me stranded in a strange IHOP two states over.
You traveled two states away to go to an IHOP?
I mean, it was a road trip.
How do you know it's your dad?
Check my phone, it says dad right there. Of course he's my dad.
It could be anyone.
There's no one else in my contacts with the name dad, other than my dad, ya goober. In fact, with every new phone I've gotten I always added his old phone number to the contacts in case of a moment just like this.
Even still, don't you think it's suspicious that your father is contacting you via text nearly a decade after he abandoned you?
Not even a bit?
No. *buzz* Oh, he texted me again!
Hey, who's my favorite daughter?
Me, of course! 😘
You're my fifth favorite daughter.
I don't understand.
I have six daughters and you're my fifth favorite one. The sixth one died in a scuba diving accident.
So I'm your least favorite daughter?
No, don't think of it like that! You're not my least favorite daughter, you're just my least favorite LIVING daughter. 😉
That doesn't make me feel better.
Ah, it doesn't matter. You remember me, your dad, the big wacky goofball! 😝
I remember you trading my bicycle for coke.
It's a thing of the past, my daughter who I love the least. I don't want to worry about the past, let's meet up and discuss the future.
OMG You want to meet up? Where?
IHOP, for old time's sake, but this time let's make it the one in town.
*out loud* Oh my god, I'm meeting up with my dad!
I'm right here, you don't have to yell.
I'm so excited. I'm reconnecting with my father. Most girls can only dream of this moment.
He honestly sounds like a terrible person.
Yeah, sometimes they become worse.
You're just overly pessimistic because you're a goth and also a Trotskyist.
Eh, I can't deny it.
*later at IHOP*
*waiting at table* I can't wait to see my dad again. I wonder what he looks like. I bet he's a businessman now. Oh, or maybe he's a priest. *notices commotion at the front of the store* Hmm?
Sir, please wait to be seated.
I'm meeting up with someone, you flighty broad. There's not much time. Get out of my way.
*internally* At least that guy isn't my dad.
Oh, there she is. *runs and sits at my table* Oh my god, is that my little girl. You've grown up so much. You look way too much like your mom. It's bringing back some really bad memories. I'm sorta regretting. Just joking. Hahaha. WHERE THE FUCK IS OUR WAITRESS, I'M TRYING TO EAT HERE!?
What a coincidence it is that the horrible man making a scene at the front of the restaurant is my dad...
What's with the distant look on your face? You're acting like you saw a ghost. Haha, maybe you do think I'm a ghost. Hey, sorry about leaving you at the IHOP all those years ago. Kinda got bored of the whole dad thing. JESUS CHRIST, CAN YOU GUYS FUCKING HURRY UP AND GET US A WAITRESS. F-Fuck. *wipes sweat off forehead*
*jumps in seat*
Sorry, I've been really on edge recently. *nervously looks over shoulder* Where the fuck are these waitresses?
Dad... *gets teary eyed*
Oh god, are you gonna start crying on me.
*sniffles* I'm sorry, I just missed you so much.
Yeah, yeah, I missed you too. Time to move onto the next thing. Inheritance. Uh, I'm gonna die eventually, so you can have all of my money. *put suitcase stuffed with cash on the table and pushes it towards me* You can just have it now, for all I care. I mean, you never know when I'm gonna die.
Dad, I don't want your money. I just want to spend time with you.
Well, you can spend all the time in the world with me once you accept the fat wads of cash in this suitcase. I just need you to say verbally that you're accepting this money from me as a legitimate form of inheritance.
Dad, please. I just want to talk to you.
Come on and take the fucking cash, Elizabeth.
My name's not Elizabeth.
Okay, whatever. Take the money and clearly dictate that you are accepting the entirety of this money as a legitimate form of inheritance from your loving father. You can use it for college, you're college aged right. Or prenatal care. I don't fucking know. What shitty kid doesn't want FREE FUCKING MONEY!?
*stands up from seat* Dad! You're the worst ever! I hate you! *runs out of IHOP sobbing*
Fuck, I knew that wasn't going to work. *notices how dark it is outside* It's almost here. I wasted so much goddamn time. I'm never going to get rid of this thing. FUCK!
*nervously* I can help you now, sir.
Oh, so now you show up. I'm not so hungry now. In fact, I've lost my entire damn appetite.
I'm sorry, sir. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry.
Which one of those cars outside is yours?
The red one.
That broken down piece of shit?
Guess, there's no other choice. It'll have to do. Give me your fucking keys.
*points gun at waiter* GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING KEYS!
*drops keys on the table*
*tosses wads of cash at the waitress* That's easily $200,000. Go buy yourself a better car. You might want to make it quick. *runs out of IHOP*
*watches disheveled dude speed off* Why is it so dark outside and where did everyone go? I guess it doesn't matter now, though. $200,000. That's a lot of money. I wonder what I'm gonna do with all this? I'm so excited that I'm lightheaded. The future is so bright now.
hiya guys! It's me, Seak-kun again, and welcome to this live stream with guest star; Wy!
today we're going to look at the top three toys that are super popular and trending around the world today! This video could also help you parents or friends out there thinking of what toys to buy for kids physically our age! Okay, let's look at number three and that is- open the box, Wy~
it's... a Lego Batman set.
ooh, nice!! Lego wins these things all the time, they're the best! Especially to you, Wy, since you love them so much~!
not according to England and New Zealand... they find it really annoying to clean up... and step on...
wouldn't they yell and blame Den almost all the time?
Anyways, the second most popular toy is... a power ranger action figure?
my fav! I love power rangers action figures too! Action figures are always the best! And blue's my fav! Look at him! So beautiful! I got it from Japan!
Didn't China give you one too?
yeah but... I prefer Japan's more.
okay, now the number 1 most popular toy is-... why.
oh my gosh, it's the meme!!
... a fidget spinner??
I mean, they're pretty cool right? I heard that lots of people are getting these for their loved ones, their SIBLINGS, and their kids! I also heard that they great for stress relief and fun to relax with-
oh, England commented on our video. He said that you're still not getting a fidget spinner.
I don't mean to be rude,I'm just curious but is there a possibility in your mimd that you won't find a publisher who'll agree to piblish your book or like you're 100% sure that you'll end up finding one?
not rude at all!! that’s absolutely a possibility. we’re doing this as traditionally as possible, and, yes, there’s a chance that no one will want to pick it up. which is why, as exciting as this process is, it’s also stupidly nerve-wracking. lol.
but! again. as always. i’d be lying if i said my already-existing platform won’t help me with selling it. because it will. and we’re still preparing those numbers (like, demographics and stuff) for publishers regardless, because they will ask.
Can you do “You’re always number one.” Percabeth if you're still doing prompts
All’s Fair (When Annabeth Has A Plan)
Word Count; 248
A/N; love me some pjo! Thanks nonny!
“You’re always number one,” Percy pouted. Annabeth rolled her eyes, wiggling further into her boyfriend’s lap.
“That’s because I always win the round before,” she pointed out. Percy continued to silently brood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he flicked his eyes over the screen, waiting for Annabeth to choose to player.
“You only keep winning ‘cus you wiggle on my dick when I’m about to beat you.” Percy grumbled, moaning loudly and knocking his forehead to her shoulder when she clicked Daisy, tan and scarred skin exposed by his large t-shirt slipping off of it. “You know I hate being Peach, Wise Girl!”
“So then choose a different character,” Annabeth shrugged. She giggled at the disgusted look Percy shot her, freckled nose scrunched and black hair wild. even making an ugly face he was gorgeous, all strong cheekbones and bright eyes and thick lashes and sun-browned skin.
“Daisy and Peach have to go together.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” she sang, picking the outfit she knew he hated on Daisy. “And Mario Cart.”
“I’ll show you war if you pick Rainbow Road again.” Percy threatened, lips turning down in a frown when Annabeth turned her head and placed a wet kiss on his cheek.
“Only if you win, Seaweed Brain” she crooned, hitting the start button on Rainbow Road. Hopefully that would give Percy the edge he needed to beat Annabeth. She’d much rather be on the bed than the floor, after all.
Your theory about Jen's departure being a PR stunt is totally plausible in my opinion! Not sure if you're a fan of Game of Thrones, but during the hiatus between seasons 5 and 6 they made the audience believe Jon Snow-one of the core characters-was dead and his actor had left the show for good. Then they resurrected him. Anyways I'm still a believer in your metas :) keep slaying shady
It’s definitely been done before, I don’t see why it isn’t at least a possibility for Once. Even if for example they know she does three or five or any small number of episodes instead of just one, it already changes the game. The way she’s talked about it, if they’re in the second part of the season, it wouldn’t even look like a lie. She said that she’d ‘have to check if she’s set to be in the Premiere or another episode’… which was a little strange, because with her agenda, that’s something she’d already know. Secondly they all left room for her being back for more episodes. She said she was open to doing more, but she couldn’t predict her schedule, A&E said it didn’t mean we wouldn’t be seeing the Savior again. If she comes back sooner, they can all just claim things worked out with her schedule and we get that Resurrection effect on an emotional level far more than without the current statements.
number 6 with my immortal husbands, if you're still doing them Gothie bb UwU
6) Grocery shopping:
Vlad examined the boxes of cereal, trying to see which one was the better one but for a cheaper price. He glanced over at the shopping cart and frowned. He pulled it away.
“Daniel, for the last time, we’re not buying microwave dinners.”
Danny groaned, slouching. “Aw, c'mon!”
“We don’t need them. I cook our dinners anyway, I don’t know why you’d even want those. They’re so unhealthy.” Vlad said, placing a box of cereal in the cart.
“Because these come with free brownies?” Danny said, grinning.
Vlad rolled his eyes, pushing the cart. “If you want sweets, I’ll bake you some. Now please put those away. Honestly, like shopping with a child.”
Danny frowned and stuck his tongue out at Vlad. Vlad smirked and just patted Danny’s face. “There there, darling.” He teased.
“Ha ha, old man.” Danny sarcastically said.
Vlad smiled and playfully pinched Danny’s cheek. Danny pulled away, pouting as he rubbed the side of his face. He followed Vlad, carefully picking up a box of brownies with his ghost powers and placing them inside the cart.
So I have an idea and I kind of want to gauge interest and
the tag has been quite actively the last couple of days so I decided now was the
I want to organise a Barduil Round Robin.
A round robin is when we each write a chapter and then pass
it on to the next writer. So, I would decide (or indeed consult with any
participants) on a theme and we would work out a writer order and just go for
It would be very chill because I do not approve of stressful
things, you would have plenty of time to do your bit I would make absolutely
sure of it, and if you don’t manage it, or your life goes cray for a while that’s
okay, you just pass it onto the next person and it can come back to you at a
The end result though guys.
Have you thought about the end result?
Because the way I see it, if enough people get involved,
then what we’re going to end up with it this:
A barduil fic written
by the barduil fandom.
And idk about you guys but that idea just tickles me.
Do not worry if you’re not confident in your writing or as
experienced as others or indeed have never written barduil before, after all, what better environment than being surrounded
by other writers on a collaborative project to hone your writing?
After all, we’re the barduil fandom, we support each other
But you don’t just need to be a writer to get involved!
If you’re a beta, great! You can help make the whole fic
sound uniform with your mad beta-ing skills! If you’re an artist, sweet! You
are more than welcome to ask to see the fic so far and art-ify a scene!
In fact whatever you do if you wanna get involved just let me know and I will find a way.
So right now I’m just trying to work out whether or not any
of you are actually interested in this idea, so if you are, let me know, you’re
not tying yourself down for anything right now, just trying to see if this is a
viable idea ^.^
Please reblog and spread the word and make sure to let me
know if you are interested! I’m unfortunately not psychic and don’t know unless
you actively come and tell me you want in, or even if you just have questions,
fire them at me :D
If you're still doing the fanfic number thingy, USUK and 1 please? Also, you're writing is awesome ^.^
(Technically, requests had been closed before you sent this in. However, it’d been a while so I deleted the posts saying I closed the requests (my mistake), and so you couldn’t have seen that. Only because of this, I am accepting just this one.)
1 - soulmates au Cardverse au
“He wasn’t born with a tattoo.”
They whispered this along the corridors and when they thought Arthur wasn’t looking, and people pretended to pity him or looked at him with the sort of awkwardness one looks upon those with skin diseases. He tried to pay them no mind but every time a new worker was brought to the palace they asked him, or the nurses gossiped.
If you're still doing the number drabble thing, Stalka 24. (If you can, could you do one involving Hiccup's birth/how he was a premie)? Thanks, love your drabbles (especially the Stalka ones) :D
The shutters rattled under the hail of Ein-mánuðr winds. The hearth fire pulled and twisted with the power of the drafted. Valka pulled her shawl tighter and tucked in the loose corners of the blanket that swathed Hiccup.
A week had passed since she gave birth to her first child—a tiny, frail thing, hardly an armful, and born into one of the harshest winters. Nothing that Stoick the Vast should have sired, but Valka wouldn’t stand for talk of infidelity and neither would her husband.
She feared he was too quiet for a healthy newborn. Too inanimate. It was only when he was awake, always staring with wide, intelligent eyes, that Valka felt soothed. But now he slept, looking pale and small amidst the dark atmosphere and far too still with the firelight flickering across his tiny nose and cheeks.
"Darling," Luke purred in your ear, "I've missed you so damn much". "I've missed you too", you sighed, hugging him tighter, "But we're in the middle of an airport". Luke chuckled at your statement, pulling away from your hug. "Let's get our love somewhere more private then, shall we?", he smiled, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. "Yes", you giggled, "But first", you leaned in, kissing him for the first time after so long. Luke tried to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away: "That was enough PDA for a day", you bit your lip. "Oh, we better get our love to the hotel very soon", Luke smirked, practically dragging you out of the airport.
"Darling", Ashton's voice woke you up, "Have you seen my 'The Strokes' t-shirt?". "What?", you lazily tried to focus on Ashton almost ready in front of you and not your sleep, "No". "Fuck", he mumbled. "Just put on another shirt", you mumbled, fighting to keep your eyes open. "But I really wanted to wear that shirt today", he sighed. "It's probably on the laundry, I'm not sure if I've already washed it", you said. "I'll wear another shirt then", he told himself, "Sorry for waking you, darling". "Yeah, well you really tired me last night", you sleepily smirked, leaning in when he sat on the bed and pecking his lips. "And just wait to see hoe tired you'll be tomorrow morning", he mumbled against your lips.
"Darling", Michael said, eyes not leaving the screen in front of him, "Can you please make me a sandwich?". "No", you shrugged, eyeing him playing the video game. "Why?", he pouted, still not looking at you. "'Cause I'm not going to support this addiction you have for that video game", you said. "So you're going to let me starve?", he laughed. "Yes!", you said. "You know I can pause and make my own sandwich, right?", he chuckled. "Whatever", you sighed. "Oh, darling", he paused the game, moving closer to you at the sofa, "C'mon, don't be upset. You know I love you a little less than I love video games". "Michael!", you hit him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm kidding, I know you know that. You're my number one favorite thing", he pecked your cheek. "I'm still not making you a sandwich", you giggled.
"Darling", Calum mumbled against your lips, "I really need to touch you". "You shouldn't have dared me to play 'too hot', then", you said back, biting his lip. "C'mon", he whined. "Just give up, Cal", you sealed your lips again. It was no surprise when you felt one of Calum's hand roughly make it's way to your waist and the other cup your jaw, giving the kiss more passion. You moaned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his hair. "I win", you whispered in between kisses.