now I am thirty years old.
So that happened.
Every now and then I get this false idea that I have green thumbs. I can make anything grow if I just put my mind to it ( PlantsCollapse )
I am scared of conflicts and I usually have a long fuse, but sometimes I swear I feel some sort of Harry Potter-esque rage monster in my chest. I just wrote this long rant about what kind of anger I have and how I deal with it, but I am just not feeling like posting that just now so... deleted. ^^;;
Instead I think I'm going to embark on some sort of account of something that has been on my mind for the past couple of weeks. Tattoos.
( Go onCollapse )
It's happening more and more lately that I can't sleep because my brain chooses the night time to torture me. I'm usually really good at turning out the light in my head and falling asleep... it normally takes 5 - 10 minutes. My friends think I'm rude. Anyway, lately I'll lay awake, tossing and turning and thinking of everything from panic over the fact that I just don't know what to do with myself to fear of losing loved ones. x.x;
The solution is brilliant though! I've discovered that if I just start playing podfic I'll fall asleep almost instantly. My poor battered ipod almost died the other day after one of these sessions, but it came back to life so I'm just gonna keep it up. Of course this also means that I have to rewind the podfic in question to where I started drifting when I want to listen again, but it's really a small price to pay.
So thank you very, very much, fic authors and podficcers ♥
title: Pillowtalk | AO3
fandom: Harry Potter
pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
word count: 500-ish
Harry Potter has a bed.
It is a large one, king-size one might call it, and at the moment it is made up with white and pale gray sheets.
It is the nicest bed he has ever had; it has just the right softness and just the right springiness. At night when he goes to sleep the bed has the perfect slightly cool temperature, yet he never wakes up cold.
When Harry first got it he used to relish in the size of it, spreading out as much as he could and sleeping in whichever direction he chose. With the somewhat reluctant help of Hermione he had installed a muggle television on the wall opposite the bed so that he could lie in, watching cowboy movies in the Saturday mornings. He loved that stupid bed.
He had a new favorite thing to do in it though, well come to think of it, more than one but this particular thing was hard to beat. Watching Draco Malfoy fall asleep. With his soft blonde hair slightly ruffled against a gray pillow,
his arm tucked underneath, and a slight expression of disapproval, Draco looks more deliciously comfy than Harry can remember. Draco always starts to drift off at night when they are having lazy whispered conversations in the darkness. Harry might’ve gotten annoyed if it wasn’t for the entertainment factor that came with it.
“What were you saying?” Harry said, looking over at the blond. “Draco?”
A low undecipherable mumble escaped Draco’s lips as he burrowed his face deeper into the pillow.
“You were saying something about the Daily Prophet,” Harry insisted.
“You dance like a…giraffe Mr. President,” Draco grumbled but soon seemed to come to a bit “Merlin… Harry shut up and let me sleep.”
Harry grinned in the darkness, trying to resist the giggle that was trying desperately to escape his throat.
“Giraffe, Draco? What would your mother say if she knew what you were dreaming about?”
No answer was offered, so Harry did shut up for a few minutes, until Draco’s breathing was getting slow and heavy again.
Nothing at all happened.
“Earth to Draco Malfoy.”
“Potter I will murder you and sleep on your cold dead body,” Draco grumbled, but didn’t open his eyes.
“You’d better not, your immune system is too sensitive.”
“Malfoys do not have sensitive immune systems,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose as if the mere thought of it was offensive.
“Alright then...,” Harry mumbled, starting to feel the tug of sleep himself.
Silence fell, and Harry watched the slightly blurry figure next to him relax into his pillow once
more before his own eyes started closing.
Just as he was starting to drift there was a soft sound next to him.
Harry peered over at the sleeping Draco Malfoy. Was he talking in his sleep?
“Harry…love you…shhh…,” Draco mumbled softly “Hand me… the radish…”
Harry smiled sleepily and managed a quiet “Love you too,” before succumbing to a deep, long sleep.