Thanks For Including Mine!

"My soul"

tfw your fugitive ex breaks out of Azkaban

A little gift for @fw00shy 💓 a microfic written entirely in three word sentences. Also for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: blue.

2 August 2006. Department of Mysteries.

“Shouldn’t be here.” Draco sounds wary.

“Fuck off, Malfoy.” Harry laughs, loud. “Azkaban released me.” He smiles wryly. “Didn’t you hear?”

“You escaped, Potter.” Draco’s voice heats. “In broad daylight. Bit dangerous, really.”

“Yeah,” Harry grins. “Slaughtered sixty-two dementors. And Warden Umbridge.” He leans in. So, so close. Mouths Draco’s throat. “You miss me?” Voice muffled, gruff.

Draco’s eyes close. His shoulders slack. Relax, dip low. He breathes deep. “Not at all.” His eyes open. They’re dark, guarded. And he stiffens. “You’re not good. Potter, you’re not.”

Harry pulls back. “Careful,” he says. “I’d kill you. If I wanted.”

“Kill me then.”

Yet Harry falters. His lips part.

Draco’s mouth twists. “You wouldn’t, Potter.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t.” Harry laughs again. Shakes his head. Looks at him. “You look good. Draco, you do.”

“Thanks,” Draco says. He smiles unhappily. Gestures to himself. “I’ve gone official. Bloody Ministry official.”

Harry reaches out. Traces Draco’s collar. “Wearing Ministry blues. Who would’ve thought.” He grins, crooked. “Unspeakable Malfoy, yeah? Shouldn’t trust you.”

“Fuck you, Harry.” Draco eyes him. Voice rough, quiet. “Alright, I did. I missed you. Just a bit.”

“Didn’t visit me.”

“Didn’t want to. That first time… You looked dead.”

And Harry sobers. “Yeah, I know.” Harry watches him. Face cut-up, bloody. “Nicked a Portkey. To the tropics.” He smiles grimly. “I’m going away.”

Draco breathes in. “DMLE’s tracing them. They’ll find you.”

“Unregistered,” Harry says. “Sounds fun, yeah? Us, the ocean.” He laughs, gruff. “Come with me.”

“Merlin,” Draco says. Voice sharp, clipped. “It’s been years.”

“Only been three.” Harry looks down. “Still love you.” Closes his eyes. Takes a breath. Opens them slowly. “Prisoners are plotting. Ministry’s gone bad. We should leave.”

Draco pauses, considering. Bites his lip. “I’ve heard things. Whispers of things. I didn’t know…” Looks at Harry. “… who to believe. But now, I…”

“What is it?” Harry’s voice drops. Sounds low, gentle.

“I trust you.” Draco leans in. Thumbs Harry’s mouth. “Wish I didn’t. But I do.” Traces Harry’s lips.

Doors slam open. Voices yelling—loud, frantic. “Target in building. Agents, get ready.”

“Fuck,” Harry mutters. “Not enough time. I’ve gotta go.” Turns to Draco. “Coming with me?”

“Bloody hell, Potter. Yes,” Draco says. “Get the Portkey.”

Frens 🥰

when you want to beat each other up but also wish to be boyfriends?? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ tricky

Fuck canon

*opens ao3*

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Teddy Lupin/Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Teddy Lupin, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Additional Tags: Voyeurism, Anal Sex, POV First Person, Age Difference, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Husbands Series: Part 2 of Kinkuary 2022 Summary:

They’ve left the bedroom door open again. I said I’d be out all evening, so they wouldn’t have been worried about me walking in on them. The pub was dull as shit though and I bailed out early to come home and spend time with Harry and Draco. Looks like they’ve already found something to entertain themselves though.

Teddy comes home from the pub early and finds a little more than he bargained for.

You make me sick. You damn hypocrites make me sick! Everybody knew she was in trouble. But we didn't do anything. All you good people. You wanna know who killed Laura? You did! We all did.

Twin Peaks (1990-1991) 1.04 - Rest in Pain dir. Tina Rathborne

on anti culture & how narrative influences reality

So look.

A common point of discourse from anti-shippers is the fact that narrative influences reality, and therefore - they claim - depictions of harmful acts will have a normalizing effect on how real people perceive those acts outside of fiction. The problem with this claim is that, while there is evidence for the idea that narrative can indeed influence reality, it’s a gross distortion of fact to say that it does so in the specific way they mean.

Read on below the cut:

Keep reading

Drarry microfic: "Dangerous"

The Detection Charms on Draco’s Knockturn Alley flat activated just after midnight, startling him awake like a cold-sweat nightmare.

He switched on the lamp, then shook the bare shoulder of the man sleeping beside him, his rising panic making him rough. Draco’s escape plan did not account for him. Merlin, he’d been a fool. A besotted, reckless fool.

“Potter, wake up. We have to go. Now.”

“What’s going on?” Harry mumbled.

“We have about three minutes until the people outside dismantle my wards.”

Draco jerked open the drawer of the bedside table and fumbled through it to find the stirring rod that was charmed into a Portkey. The thought of shadowy figures watching them through the windows, listening, made him shudder.

“What people?”

“Aurors, I assume. For fuck’s sake, move—unless you want to do some fast talking about why you’re naked in my bed.”

Harry didn’t move. He watched Draco pull on his trousers and slip his arms into his button-down with obvious disappointment. Draco avoided his eyes.

“I thought you said you were doing Potions research.”

“Well, the Potions part is true,” Draco said wryly.

He threw Harry’s clothes at him before grabbing the satchel that was always packed and ready. Beneath his bare feet, the floorboards began to vibrate from the tendrils of magic creeping over his wards, seeking a crack.

“Draco, what are you—”

“Not now! Are you coming with me or not?”

Harry’s gaze flickered over Draco’s face, then he nodded and gathered up his clothing. Draco felt his knees weaken with relief.

“Where are we going?”

“Kyiv. Then we’ll Apparate a few times to make sure they’re off our trail.”

Draco crawled across the rumpled bed until he was straddling Harry. He smelled like sex and the cheap Firewhisky that they always sipped in Draco’s draughty lounge, talking, circling around each other, until their veins burned with it and they couldn’t hold back any longer. It was the closest thing Draco had to predictable in his unpredictable life.

“What the fuck have you got yourself into?” Harry whispered.

Draco wrapped one hand around the satchel handle and the other around on the back of Harry’s neck, pressing the stirring rod against the knobs of his vertebrae.

“Something dangerous. Something I can’t walk away from now.”

He wasn’t talking about the illegal Potions lab in the attic.

With a whispered word, Draco activated the Portkey.

Written for the @drarrymicrofic song prompt, "Dangerous" by Big Data ft. Joywave.