“For the love of God, Cherise,” Dr. Cox exclaimed as he wedged another chair under the rattling doorknob and turned on JD with a snarl, “I understand how hard it must be for you to watch scary movies, but couldn’t you have peeked out from behind that like, ohmigawd, totally cute quarterback for long enough to learn that you never, never, ever open the big, evil-looking books like the one you found in the Janitor’s closet?”
And he'd totally be the only one with the arcane knowledge of how to stop the zombies, too. And he'd refuse to use it until the very last minute, and even then only in exchange for a sit-on floor polisher or something.
Even Potter’s earnest expression as he waved the shiny, black thing around and gabbled about how “everybody wears them in the big cities, Malfoy; just try them on and you’ll see” couldn’t wipe the look of absolute horror from Draco’s face.
I'll probably end up drawing it again one day. The mental image of Harry + horse is far too amusing for me to not
THIS WAS SURPRISINGLY HARD.
“Happy new year,” Sands mutters stiffly from somewhere behind and to the left of Ramon’s elbow, but when Ramon turns around- a what the hell do you want? already half-formed on his lips- Sands is glaring intently up at the fireworks and Ajedrez’s triumphant smirk over his shoulder is the only indication that he’d said anything at all.
She comes home from school and crawls into his lap, and when her breathing evens out, slow and heavy with sleep, Sands lowers his pen and stares down at her, still half-amazed that anyone could ever feel so safe with him around.
I TAKE IT YOU MEANT SLASH, RIGHT? 'CAUSE I DON'T THINK IT'S POSSIBLE TO WRITE ABOUT THEM IN ANY OTHER WAY.
It's somewhere halfway through Sam's fifth pint (as Nicholas says "a decent filing system can make all the difference" with the urgency of a preacher and a fevered look in his eyes, Gene a background buzz of casual disdain) that his hand finds its way onto Nicholas' thigh and Sam begins to lean forward, breathing out "Yes."
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“For the love of God, Cherise,” Dr. Cox exclaimed as he wedged another chair under the rattling doorknob and turned on JD with a snarl, “I understand how hard it must be for you to watch scary movies, but couldn’t you have peeked out from behind that like, ohmigawd, totally cute quarterback for long enough to learn that you never, never, ever open the big, evil-looking books like the one you found in the Janitor’s closet?”
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Draco Malfoy. Leather pants. Go go go.
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THIS WAS SURPRISINGLY HARD.
“Happy new year,” Sands mutters stiffly from somewhere behind and to the left of Ramon’s elbow, but when Ramon turns around- a what the hell do you want? already half-formed on his lips- Sands is glaring intently up at the fireworks and Ajedrez’s triumphant smirk over his shoulder is the only indication that he’d said anything at all.
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She comes home from school and crawls into his lap, and when her breathing evens out, slow and heavy with sleep, Sands lowers his pen and stares down at her, still half-amazed that anyone could ever feel so safe with him around.
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And look! I also have a ficlet for YOU
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GOGOGO
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It's somewhere halfway through Sam's fifth pint (as Nicholas says "a decent filing system can make all the difference" with the urgency of a preacher and a fevered look in his eyes, Gene a background buzz of casual disdain) that his hand finds its way onto Nicholas' thigh and Sam begins to lean forward, breathing out "Yes."
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and muahahahaha, way to awesome. give me another? same prompt?
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