DEAR GOD I AM CRYING WHY HAVEN’T I WATCHED THIS WITH THE COMMENTARY YET
THE GAYEST, DRARRYEST THING EVER AND I HAVEN’T SEEN IT IN ALL OF ITS ITERATIONS WHYYYY
“Did you see the stupid tart Potter brought to the Ministry party, Pansy? It’s like he hasn’t changed at all since school. Still a bloody fool.”
“Draco, when I asked you if you wanted to help me dog-sit for Blaise this weekend, it wasn’t an open invitation for you to whinge nonstop about Potter, as absurd as you may find the concept.”
“It’s not my fault he insists upon constantly making a fucking spectacle of himself in public!”
Pansy sighed, winding the supple leather strap of the leash around her wrist. “Darling, you’re both being ridiculous. Just bloody ask him out and have done with it! I will not tolerate your shilly-shallying about the matter any longer. You’re giving me premature wrinkles.”
“I–but–I don’t…and he certainly…we’re not–” Draco heaved a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “He’s not even queer, Pans. It’d be all over the Prophet if he were.”
The corner of Pansy’s mouth twitched, and she turned to Draco with the most innocent expression she could muster. “I take it, then, that you didn’t pick up the Prophet this morning? Ah, of course not. You’d have to have stopped talking about Potter for thirty seconds to read anything.”
Draco’s eyes went impossibly wide. Without a word, he shoved the leash he had been gripping loosely into Pansy’s hand.
Pansy just barely caught the hopeful smile beginning to form on his lips before he apparated on the spot. “It’s about bloody time, isn’t it boys?” She muttered, grinning down at her companions.
“Did you see the stupid tart Potter brought to the Ministry party, Pansy? It’s like he hasn’t changed at all since school. Still a bloody fool.”
“Draco, when I asked you if you wanted to help me dog-sit for Blaise this weekend, it wasn’t an open invitation for you to whinge nonstop about Potter, as absurd as you may find the concept.”
“It’s not my fault he insists upon constantly making a fucking spectacle of himself in public!”
Pansy sighed, winding the supple leather strap of the leash around her wrist. “Darling, you’re both being ridiculous. Just bloody ask him out and have done with it! I will not tolerate your shilly-shallying about the matter any longer. You’re giving me premature wrinkles.”
“I–but–I don’t…and he certainly…we’re not–” Draco heaved a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “He’s not even queer, Pans. It’d be all over the Prophet if he were.”
The corner of Pansy’s mouth twitched, and she turned to Draco with the most innocent expression she could muster. “I take it, then, that you didn’t pick up the Prophet this morning? Ah, of course not. You’d have to have stopped talking about Potter for thirty seconds to read anything.”
Draco’s eyes went impossibly wide. Without a word, he shoved the leash he had been gripping loosely into Pansy’s hand.
Pansy just barely caught the hopeful smile beginning to form on his lips before he apparated on the spot. “It’s about bloody time, isn’t it boys?” She muttered, grinning down at her companions.
Is it bad that my first reaction to this was, pfffttt gay wizards obvi know all those special gay spells. Ain’t nobody buying lube here.
WHAT AM I
married life.
i got this idea from a text post many moons ago … but can’t for the life of me find the actual post to link back to. anyways, draco is offended
Draco Malfoy had always been good at wanting. Possessions, people, experiences… If it was worth having, Draco would drive himself mad with wanting it. The more complex and unattainable the target, the greater the draw. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Harry Potter.
The curious thing about wanting, is that it usually stopped as soon as the thing in question could be had. Draco had never stopped wanting Harry–long after the first kiss, the first touch–he wanted. Long after he could bury himself fully into Harry’s body, he wanted. He could never stop wanting.
I will continue to reblog this every single time it shows up on my dash.
This is really nice work…….. via Art LOVER
THAT’S how you make lace??
And THIS is why lace was a worn primarily by royalty and aristocracy for so many centuries.. It was expensive and time-consuming to produce. Wearing it, and wearing LOTS of it was a blatant show of wealth and excessive consumption.
Mechanically-produced lace wasn’t really a thing until well into the 20th century, but there remains a wide gap between the quality of mass-produced and hand crafted
In general textile arts are highly underated considering the amount of skill and time needed to execute pretty much anything.
Amazing.
schnapskatze 