(no subject)
Oct. 1st, 2007 11:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gala_applesso, i feel it's time (about fucking time, to be more precise) that i write a fic of some sort. you all know i love seamus, so i'm looking for a second charecter and a concept.
got a quote you like?: Lack of planning on your part does NOT constitute obligation on mine.
It was utterly impossible to organise a study group. they were all going to fail miserably, and no one seemed to care, to preoccupied with the war. Well, maybe it was news to them all, but if they made it through the war and didn't have an education, they'd be fucked.
And here Seamus was, scrawling out reams of notes the night before (mere hours before) his NEWT. It was Charms, Dean's best subject, but that didn't mean he was going to help him. Fuck that, Seamus had made his choice. Even looking at the stack of texts Seamus still had to read through to make a study guide on was enough Dean wince, never mind helping him go through them.
Then Seamus looked up, his big green eyes blinking like the shutter of a broken camera. It should have been spastic and pathetic, but instead it was adorable and pathetic, a truely dangerous combination.
With a huge sigh, Dean pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table. Judging by the mixed look of happiness and guilt Seamus had, the man knew he owed Dean. Which could only mean payment due for services rendered, ie: handjob in the bathroom after the NEWT.
have a random object you want integrated?: (chocolate milk)
The main problem with doing homework during his lunch hour, Neville found, was that the scrolls tended to get stained. This wasn't so much a problem when he was writing a quick summary of a reading, or a five mark assignment. Essays, on the other hand, were a completely different beast all together. Essays required clean parchment, and cleaning charms on stained paper left grey streaks, like an old rubber on muggle paper.
And so he'd skip lunch, and have a larger dinner. But a growing boy (a boy that enjoyed his meals, anyway) always found himself hungry by midnight. Which was where the not-secret secret of tickling the pear came in. A quick jaunt to the kitchens not only made the house elves feel useful (Hermione and her stance be damned), they also made him comfortable and full. A win win situation.
It was fairly often that he'd enter just as someone was leaving, or have his snack interrupted by someone else coming in. Even the twins followed the unwritten rules of the kitchen though; leave the other people in peace, and the elves will continue to feed you. If they were upset or disturbed, the quality and quantity went way down. Every midnight visitor knew better then to upset the creatures.
And that was why, on the oddest night of Neville's life thus far, no one said anything. He snuck in to see Seamus drinking chocolate milk straight from the carton, ignoring the glass Yinty was thrusting in his direction. Generally Neville was able to keep himself in line, but there was just something about the sweet liquid coating the other boy's upper lip. He leaned forward and licked it off, not daring to look Seamus in the eye. Seamus didn't push him away, and Neville didn't demand reciprocity. Either could start something loud, and the house elves wouldn't approve.
come one, come all, give me your ideas! (would probably even write het, as long as it had seamus in it).
got a quote you like?: Lack of planning on your part does NOT constitute obligation on mine.
It was utterly impossible to organise a study group. they were all going to fail miserably, and no one seemed to care, to preoccupied with the war. Well, maybe it was news to them all, but if they made it through the war and didn't have an education, they'd be fucked.
And here Seamus was, scrawling out reams of notes the night before (mere hours before) his NEWT. It was Charms, Dean's best subject, but that didn't mean he was going to help him. Fuck that, Seamus had made his choice. Even looking at the stack of texts Seamus still had to read through to make a study guide on was enough Dean wince, never mind helping him go through them.
Then Seamus looked up, his big green eyes blinking like the shutter of a broken camera. It should have been spastic and pathetic, but instead it was adorable and pathetic, a truely dangerous combination.
With a huge sigh, Dean pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table. Judging by the mixed look of happiness and guilt Seamus had, the man knew he owed Dean. Which could only mean payment due for services rendered, ie: handjob in the bathroom after the NEWT.
have a random object you want integrated?: (chocolate milk)
The main problem with doing homework during his lunch hour, Neville found, was that the scrolls tended to get stained. This wasn't so much a problem when he was writing a quick summary of a reading, or a five mark assignment. Essays, on the other hand, were a completely different beast all together. Essays required clean parchment, and cleaning charms on stained paper left grey streaks, like an old rubber on muggle paper.
And so he'd skip lunch, and have a larger dinner. But a growing boy (a boy that enjoyed his meals, anyway) always found himself hungry by midnight. Which was where the not-secret secret of tickling the pear came in. A quick jaunt to the kitchens not only made the house elves feel useful (Hermione and her stance be damned), they also made him comfortable and full. A win win situation.
It was fairly often that he'd enter just as someone was leaving, or have his snack interrupted by someone else coming in. Even the twins followed the unwritten rules of the kitchen though; leave the other people in peace, and the elves will continue to feed you. If they were upset or disturbed, the quality and quantity went way down. Every midnight visitor knew better then to upset the creatures.
And that was why, on the oddest night of Neville's life thus far, no one said anything. He snuck in to see Seamus drinking chocolate milk straight from the carton, ignoring the glass Yinty was thrusting in his direction. Generally Neville was able to keep himself in line, but there was just something about the sweet liquid coating the other boy's upper lip. He leaned forward and licked it off, not daring to look Seamus in the eye. Seamus didn't push him away, and Neville didn't demand reciprocity. Either could start something loud, and the house elves wouldn't approve.
come one, come all, give me your ideas! (would probably even write het, as long as it had seamus in it).
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-02 05:30 am (UTC)HAHAHAHAHA OMG I WIN.