...drabblefun!..!..!!
Jun. 21st, 2004 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaI just wrote this silly over-long drabble, initially for Aja's 1,000-commentathon, but then I realized I could post it and like, do that thing where I ask people to um-- fire away and request more drabbles. I'm in a writerly mood, but like... I don't want to write the things I -should- write.
So. Ask-- and like, gimme a pairing and/or kink and/or situation-- hopefully all three, since saying "H/D" isn't likely to inspire me-- and I'll do the best I can to comment back with a drabble-type-thing. I mean, I can't guarrantee anything, but.
Whee! Fun(?) Something like that.
Harry had never asked himself what he'd gotten into, because as long as they remained separate, he wasn't -in- anything.
As long as he didn't look back, Malfoy wasn't looking at him like he had a right to. And as long as he didn't fall asleep in the first place, he wouldn't hear the other's muffled whispers in the dark. "You're mine, Potter," he said, as if saying made it true.
Perhaps the first time Malfoy whispered this should have been Harry's clue to make a fast getaway, because Malfoys were notorious for clinging to what's theirs, but Harry wasn't a coward. What did he care about Malfoy's little fantasies? They'd never had any agreement; Harry could stop anytime he liked, and besides, the blond knew better than to make a peep during daytime.
Harry smirked at what Malfoy's reaction would be if he got him a soft toy to hold; maybe then he'd remember Harry needed space. He wasn't there to make Malfoy feel better or to pretend this was a "thing", because it wasn't. It just wasn't.
They didn't sleep together often, mostly because Harry was too busy spending most of his time with his real friends and working harder than he'd ever had before this year. A part of it, though, was because of just this: Malfoy held him too tightly when he slept.
He curled around Harry like a surprisingly strong little monkey, wrapping his arms and legs around him with an intensity he never quite matched while awake. Harry hated this. He hated the awkward bruises Malfoy's nighttime 'cuddles' left, he hated the feeling of entrapment, and he hated the soft, pathetic snuffles in his ear. Malfoy was soft and vulnerable and naked and Harry couldn't bring himself to hurt him, to throw him off, to shout him awake, and he probably hated that the most.
Harry hated getting absolutely no sleep those nights, watching the wind move Malfoy's too-pale hair back and forth over his closed eyelids. The pointy face still looked sour and uppity and smug all at once; there was nothing new. It felt more perverse than fucking Malfoy somehow, this watching.
Sometimes Malfoy would shudder and whimper in his sleep, pursued by imaginary demons. Maybe it was Harry who chased him through his dreams.
"What're you still doing here?" Malfoy would drawl sleepily at dawn.
"You won't let me go," Harry answered resentfully. He was a breath away from petulant and it didn't matter. "You're hurting me," he added as Malfoy's arms squeezed tighter. "Do you have to be so grabby?"
"Do you want me to stop?"
Harry's silence was damning.
"Thought so," Malfoy whispered, but he didn't sound smug the way he should have, and Harry thought he may have been surprised.
"You're mine, Malfoy," Harry said slowly. At this, Malfoy's arms unlocked like Harry had turned a secret key, and the blond actually paled. "Might as well use my bed next time," he smirked.
So. Ask-- and like, gimme a pairing and/or kink and/or situation-- hopefully all three, since saying "H/D" isn't likely to inspire me-- and I'll do the best I can to comment back with a drabble-type-thing. I mean, I can't guarrantee anything, but.
Whee! Fun(?) Something like that.
Harry had never asked himself what he'd gotten into, because as long as they remained separate, he wasn't -in- anything.
As long as he didn't look back, Malfoy wasn't looking at him like he had a right to. And as long as he didn't fall asleep in the first place, he wouldn't hear the other's muffled whispers in the dark. "You're mine, Potter," he said, as if saying made it true.
Perhaps the first time Malfoy whispered this should have been Harry's clue to make a fast getaway, because Malfoys were notorious for clinging to what's theirs, but Harry wasn't a coward. What did he care about Malfoy's little fantasies? They'd never had any agreement; Harry could stop anytime he liked, and besides, the blond knew better than to make a peep during daytime.
Harry smirked at what Malfoy's reaction would be if he got him a soft toy to hold; maybe then he'd remember Harry needed space. He wasn't there to make Malfoy feel better or to pretend this was a "thing", because it wasn't. It just wasn't.
They didn't sleep together often, mostly because Harry was too busy spending most of his time with his real friends and working harder than he'd ever had before this year. A part of it, though, was because of just this: Malfoy held him too tightly when he slept.
He curled around Harry like a surprisingly strong little monkey, wrapping his arms and legs around him with an intensity he never quite matched while awake. Harry hated this. He hated the awkward bruises Malfoy's nighttime 'cuddles' left, he hated the feeling of entrapment, and he hated the soft, pathetic snuffles in his ear. Malfoy was soft and vulnerable and naked and Harry couldn't bring himself to hurt him, to throw him off, to shout him awake, and he probably hated that the most.
Harry hated getting absolutely no sleep those nights, watching the wind move Malfoy's too-pale hair back and forth over his closed eyelids. The pointy face still looked sour and uppity and smug all at once; there was nothing new. It felt more perverse than fucking Malfoy somehow, this watching.
Sometimes Malfoy would shudder and whimper in his sleep, pursued by imaginary demons. Maybe it was Harry who chased him through his dreams.
"What're you still doing here?" Malfoy would drawl sleepily at dawn.
"You won't let me go," Harry answered resentfully. He was a breath away from petulant and it didn't matter. "You're hurting me," he added as Malfoy's arms squeezed tighter. "Do you have to be so grabby?"
"Do you want me to stop?"
Harry's silence was damning.
"Thought so," Malfoy whispered, but he didn't sound smug the way he should have, and Harry thought he may have been surprised.
"You're mine, Malfoy," Harry said slowly. At this, Malfoy's arms unlocked like Harry had turned a secret key, and the blond actually paled. "Might as well use my bed next time," he smirked.
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no subject
Date: 2004-06-21 05:32 pm (UTC)Lucius/Pansy, keeping it all hush-hush from the world, no DOMME pansy.
>) Come on Reena.
*aims to please* :>
Date: 2004-06-22 03:14 pm (UTC)Tonight, Lucius was a bit late. Pansy went through her mental check-list diligently, trying and failing to remember the precise number of times she'd conditioned and reconditioned her hair last night and whether she'd remembered to owl Draco. The big silly was getting a tad suspicious since she hadn't had time to spend as much time with him as usual.
She was half-asleep by the time her lover arrived, and the first thing he noticed is that he was wearing his formal, outrageously severe-looking suit. It was rather obvious he'd been fire-talking with someone important again (probably the Ministry) after she'd last seen him, because was scowling like he had a particularly evil headache. Pansy's heart sank. Dear Lucius looked to be in no mood to play whatsoever.
Taking a deep breath, Pansy decided to try her sympathetic voice.
"Would you like a back-rub, Mr. Malfoy?" She did her best to look demure without looking like she had something in her eyes. Lucius would only get more irate if she tried to get familiar right now, she knew that.
Lucius sat down heavily at the edge of the bed, exhaling loudly through his nose. He looked like what he really wanted was a spot of gratuitous torture rather than a massage, though perhaps that was Pansy's own smitten imagination at work.
"She's not coming back," he said flatly. Lucius wasn't looking at her. "I suppose you can make yourself at home now, wench."
Pansy swallowed her canary-eating smile and scowled lightly. "But-- but--" she struggled with words in a sweetly awkward way, "wasn't the trial only scheduled for tomorrow?"
Lucius' jaw clenched. "There's not going to be a trial. The jackals took her magic and her bloody memories." His hand went to the pocket where he'd have normally kept his wand, but of course it wasn't there. "They'll regret crossing a Malfoy. Mark my words, Parkinson. A pureblood needs no magic to win," he snarled.
She shivered pleasantly. Yes, this was it. This was why she came around.
Pansy laid a hand on Lucius' shoulder softly, trying not to disturb his black mood overmuch. "I can help you," she whispered, pouting when he jerked away.
"Keep your nose out of my business, you stroppy cow!" he sneered viciously.
No matter. Pansy had all the time in the world to entice him to her way of thinking. After all, the man was alone in the whole huge Manor, under house-arrest. No one visited but her.
No, Lucius wasn't going anywhere.
Re: *aims to please* :>
Date: 2004-06-30 05:10 pm (UTC)*DIES OVER AND OVER*
no subject
Date: 2004-06-21 05:33 pm (UTC)Pansy/Millicent, evil kittens.
warning for awful horrible -fluff-.
Date: 2004-06-22 02:42 pm (UTC)Too much.
Pansy burst Millicent's curtains open the first morning her poor baby was gone, sending the other girl into a fit of just-woken-for-no-good reason temper. But it was a desperately important reason, no matter how barely they might tolerate one another at any other time: she saw how Millicent's evil cat had been looking at her precious.
It soon became clear that Inky and Dusty (imaginatively named when the girls were eleven) had both disappeared-- together. This was after intolerable days and weeks of courtship-- namely, hissing and spitting at each other before tumbling under the nearest piece of furniture to roll about elegantly.
Inky had shown her fierce pointy fangs at Dusty, who mewled almost meekly, before pouncing with an unholy light in his green eyes.
They'd been such well-behaved cats up till now-- only attacking The Enemy.
Pansy pouted and said Inky must have gotten bored, what with the lack of entertainment one gets during the Christmas holidays. Millicent grinned fiendishly and said Dusty must have gotten horny. Pansy gasped and punched Millicent (not over-lightly) in the shoulder, which only made the girl beam wider. Pansy tried hard not to be disturbed.
They could come to no agreement except to look sad and lost when the inevitable finally happened.
The cats' girls had looked for them separately, but to no avail, and quickly enough, it became apparent that this had to be a joint operation.
Millicent was the brawn; Pansy was the brains.
They used their eyes and legs and feminine wiles to ask every Slytherin within hailing distance. Desperate, Pansy had even tried summoning spells, which backfired horribly. Finally, deeply dejected and out of options, they went to Professor Snape to ask for professional catnapping advice. The notion that their naughty cats weren't ready to come back yet was pushed firmly to the back of their minds. It simply wasn't going to be considered by Pansy, no matter how much Millicent cackled and threatened to start knitting kitten-nappies.
Snape seemed not at all surprised at their arrival, only sneering and leading the two uneasy girls to his office.
There, right in Snape's favorite soft chair by the fireplace, lay Inky and Dusty in an indistinguishable bundle of black fur. They were half-asleep and looking deceptively angelic. Inky was currently licking Dusty's neck spotlessly clean.
Pansy gasped, hand automatically going to clutch Millicent's.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Snape's painfully strained expression, as well as Millicent's unholy gleam (unsurprisingly similar to that of her cat).
"What did I tell you?" Millicent whispered none-too-softly in Pansy's ear, which made the blonde shiver in a queer sort of way.
"Maybe they have the right idea," she breathed, burying her nose in the prickly black hair of her friend.
Re: warning for awful horrible -fluff-.
Date: 2004-06-23 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-21 08:29 pm (UTC)Uhmmm, Percy/Oliver, grocery shopping. -evil-
Percy/Oliver, as ordered
Date: 2004-09-14 10:44 pm (UTC)"How do you expect us to go through that much milk in a week, pray tell? It'll spoil, and you know Martha is past the stage where she'll drink any."
"It's not like it'll poison her, otherwise she'd have thrown up by now." Oliver had learned to be reasonable when it came to Percy's little... issues the hard way. "And there are spells to keep it fresh, too, you know."
"Spells don't keep the milk in top condition, you idiot! At least don't come crying to me when you have a stomach-ache, because I won't have it."
"You really expect me to cry over some milk?" Oliver chuckled.
"You're laughing at me, aren't you," Percy said flatly. "I know you are. You're always doing it, and you think I can't tell because you falsely assume I don't notice the things I fail to remark upon."
Oliver laughed in earnest. "No, -now- I'm laughing at you."
"Well, suit yourself, then." Percy rolled up the grocery list parchment neatly and stuck it in a trouser pocket. "I won't wait for you to dress, understand? I'm leaving, and you may follow if you wish, but I won't stand for that sort of rudeness! I'm your boyfriend, not your mother."
"You know, I never would have realized that if you hadn't told me just now," Oliver grinned, pulling on a shirt.
Percy sniffed. "Do you mean to go out dressed in your sleeping wear?" he said, adjusting his glasses. "I'm not going to stop you of course, you're free to make your own choices on the matter. I'm only curious."
"Good to know," Oliver nodded, walking on ahead and out the door before Percy had moved past their airy kitchen. "Lock the door on the way out, all right? I'll go on and check things out and--"
"But the list!" Percy called after him.
"Don't need it!" Oliver yelled back.
"Like hell!" Percy muttered, adjusting his spectacles yet again. He was frowning as he slipped on his sensible shoes, knowing Oliver wouldn't actually rush ahead without him. Oliver was well aware of the consequences if he did things rashly.
While they walked (because Oliver needed to keep in shape, of course, and it wasn't that Percy was concerned so much as that he'd never shut up), he insisted on discussing the plan for the excursion-- Oliver would take the right, and Percy would take the left. They would divide up the necessary items and get whatever they each fancied out of whatever money was left over from the alloted sum.
As usual, they bumped into each other in the midst of the market. Oliver had stuffed every item on his half of the list in his arms, while naturally, Percy had a sensible cart he was currently pushing.
His whole face soured at the sight of those poor vegetables popping out behind Oliver's tanned elbows. "Put that down!" he hissed. "Greens are very sensitive to pressure, don't you understand, you could utterly ruin the flavor, you git."
Oliver smirked. "Oh no, trust me," he said. "The flavor keeps."
Re: Percy/Oliver, as ordered
Date: 2004-09-15 07:35 pm (UTC)...
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Thank you.
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Date: 2004-06-21 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-21 10:29 pm (UTC)though i could always write more cheesecake porn....??? >:D
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Date: 2004-06-21 10:32 pm (UTC)>:(|)!!!!!!!11 <-- monkey
The visual makes me twitch happily. \:D/
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Date: 2004-06-21 11:18 pm (UTC)Oh, and. With the cheesecake... I meant, you could ask for a particular type of drabble. No need for cheesecake-- or cake in general. It's hard to write drabble!smut, man ^^;
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Date: 2004-06-21 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-21 11:30 pm (UTC)Although I can do romance-novel-writing!Draco, which is what that reminded me of. But like, no, I must defer to my public. *coughs*
...*is versatile & good with heavy machinery, too*
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Date: 2004-06-21 11:47 pm (UTC)Have you seen those big dildo machine things that, like, uhh never mind. :"> This is why you don't watch cable shows at 3am. :"> :">!!
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Date: 2004-06-21 11:54 pm (UTC)...
*coughs*
But I like the trashy romance-reading!Draco. He's got potential :D :D
Harry would so read like, thrillers and mysteries or something; Draco wouldn't 'cause they'd give him nightmares and he's a sensitive boi. He likes it when they cuddle in the end and the girl swoons as the guy lifts her into bed dashingly, except Draco keeps drawing mustaches on the girls.
Er. -.-
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Date: 2004-06-23 02:27 am (UTC)It's a short step...
I have no request myself, but I'm sure you'll write some H/D so I shall reload like a mad reloading thing!
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Date: 2004-06-21 10:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-22 11:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-22 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-22 12:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-22 09:37 pm (UTC)<3 <3 <3.
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Date: 2004-06-22 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 12:35 am (UTC)Reena, can I submit multiple requests? Parvati/Lavender, then.
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Date: 2004-06-23 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 10:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 10:54 am (UTC)'Sokay, I think I can. *coughs* I'm still proud of my Lucius/Pansy being all full of "Issues" and stuff. :D :D
Just checking, then-- all this angst, and Lavender & Parvati are to sixth/seventh-year Gryffindor girls, right? ahahah
no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 12:19 pm (UTC)Now that sounds contradicting.
because best friends hate each other constantly :D
Date: 2004-06-24 10:50 am (UTC)Her supposed 'best friend' was making the expected shocked sputtering noises as she was pulled to the nearest abandoned classroom. Loyalty was all well and good, but sometimes a little intervention was necessary. In hindsight, though, the Room of Requirement might have been a bad move.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Parvie?!"
Lavender had her no-nonsense face on, and hands on her hips. She'd been practicing this.
Parvati blinked. "Lav? Are you all right?" she said weakly.
"No, I'm not bloody 'all right', pea-brain!" Lavender yelled. "Don't you know anything?!" Parvati's eyes were very wide and very dark, and it only made Lavender angrier. "And don't look at me like that!"
"Like what?"
"Like you don't sodding well know, you cow!"
Parvati wasn't too good for Lavender when they were two lonely first years and the dark-haired girl was sobbing her heart out the first night without her sister, and she certainly wasn't too good for Lavender now.
She was now a step away from Parvati, practically breathing in her face. Her friend was starting to look a bit flushed, but that was part of the plan. Lavender was -not- going to be messed with any longer, and that was the end of it.
It started with a rumor that Parvati was meeting up with Harry Potter in secret.
Lavender knew it wasn't true, because best friends knew those sorts of things. Naturally, Parvati wasn't about to deny a juicy bit like that-- in fact, she'd encouraged it with all the right blushes and giggles-- but then it wasn't funny anymore. It was all very confidential, which of course meant that Harry had to hear eventually, which was definitely not something Lavender had ever expected to worry about.
Of course she'd said nothing, because she had Parvati's back. She had her back even when Parvati's popularity among the more impressionable girls suddenly skyrocketed. Or when she started spending more and more time with her new shadows rather than with Lavender. She even had Parvati's back when she had to 'stay over late' with Harry after the usual DA practice. But when dear old Parvie walked into dinner on Harry Potter's arm without telling her first: that was war.
And now Parvati dared to play the innocent; as if she hadn't given every signal that certain strings were about to be cut any moment.
"So are you going to fight or not?" Lavender hissed. "Or are you just gonna stand there and play dumb?"
Parvati looked at her strangely, her pretty dark head tilted to the side before her eyes widened suddenly. Something in Lavender's stomach turned over for no good reason.
"Oh Lav!" She tried her innocent-doe look, which had never worked on Lavender. "Of course I've missed you, silly bird! It's just--"
"Do you think that's going to be the end of it?" Lavender had principles, didn't she? "I won't just shut up, you--" And was Parvati's fingertip always this soft?
"Really?" Parvati looked right wicked, so close. "Keep talking, then."
Re: because best friends hate each other constantly :D
Date: 2004-06-26 04:49 am (UTC)Harry is a cunt and so is Parvati.
The end.
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Date: 2004-06-24 07:27 am (UTC)♥ ♥ ♥!
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Date: 2004-06-24 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-24 09:57 am (UTC)*love!*
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Date: 2004-06-23 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 05:00 pm (UTC)She thinks of hourglasses and shadows and feels restless and snappish, almost unable to get any work done. This has ceased to work in theory, but it doesn't stop because the practice remains strong.
'It' doesn't have a name; it just happens when there's time. One day, the time for shadows will run out, and she will tell the proper authorities. But until then, this is hers and no one else's.
Padma's shadow is blonde and tall and sarcastic; she bites Padma's bottom lip when they snog and tells her she's pretty for a Ravenclaw bitch. Padma doesn't lose her temper, standing there in yet another dark corner with the blonde girl, thinking she disagrees with her on everything and maybe she likes that. Saying "no, you're wrong" would be reduntant. Explaining would be pointless: of course Pansy is wrong. That is the point, after all.
Parvati wouldn't understand, so Padma doesn't tell her. It is that simple, after all.
Pansy doesn't appreciate the intellectual exercise of their continuing connections; the subtleties of contrast and disengagement. Pansy likes her smooth dark hair and her pretty silent mouth; Padma doesn't bother to contradict her until it becomes the proper time.
She'd never entertained the idea of 'converting' Pansy; Pansy has her own mind and she will pay her own price.
Parkinson sharpens her mind, Padma thinks, and that's the important thing. That's why she's here, swallowing Pansy's barbs along with her sharp kisses. Padma likes sharp things, complex things; things which she isn't, she thinks.
Parvati is becoming concerned, but Padma can't seem to stop.
Between all her duties and the awful new rush of seventh-year homework, she shouldn't have time for this. She shouldn't be able to -think- between the incomprehensible madness of the Ravenclaw third-years and Harry's increasing demands on the Army and Parvati's painfully failed attempt at romance with Zacharias. Padma could have told her that Hufflepuffs aren't generally good for that sort of thing, but she kept her mouth shut: a person has to make their own mistakes, even if said person is closer to one than one's heart.
Hadn't she encouraged Parvati to keep an open mind before the Sorting? How closely had she kept that secret, first year, and how long did it take her to truly "not mind" that her twin sister was sleeping countless long winding stone corridors away from her?
Eventually, she had understood their difference was the true secret, and the one she will always have to keep.
When Parkinson backs her against the wall, her hand on Padma's breast with her mouth mouthing silently against her ear, Padma shivers in realization. Because Pansy keeps a twin mountain of secrets, and Padma can see.
no subject
Date: 2004-06-24 07:30 am (UTC)Ahh, Padma! And Pansy! And, ah, I love you. This is perfect and Pansy and yes, ah. <3333333333.