(no subject)

[bubosquared]

So I promised Nyree two drabbles, right?

Marcus Flint and Lee Jordan
dampen; holiday; fireplace

Double drabble. Part of war!Marcus/Lee, although it wasn't supposed to be. Um. Also, this one finally breaks my "alphabetical titles" streak. Sheesh.

focus

Lee remembers, clear as day, the Christmas break of his fifth year. Before Bole, before the war, before everything else, there were two weeks with no one else around, and even the fact that he was away from his family and friends on Christmas didn't dampen his holiday spirit.

He spent the two weeks in a daze as they took full advantage of the emtpy dorms, sneaking in and out every night. On Christmas Eve he fell asleep in Flint's bed and didn't wake up until the early morning. He remembers there was still a fire going in the fireplace, which meant Flint must've woken up during the night and not woken him up, and Lee really didn't want to think about what that meant.

With time, he's perfected the art of Not Thinking about things. Fifth year, the twins, Bole, Marcus, he can ignore everything as long as he concentrates on something else. It's what made him the perfect spy -- he could sit absolutely still for hours on end, focussing on nothing but his target.

He's not allowed to go out in the field anymore, and it's hard to really focus on maps, so instead, he focusses on Marcus.

Marcus Flint and Fred Weasley
feather-weight; indulgent; oppress

Okay, so I cheated a little. So sue me. Drabble and a half.

crash

Most people know better than to get in Fred's way, but Marcus Flint is not most people. When Fred tries to rush past him in the narrow dungeon hallways, Flint simply doesn't move. Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

"Did you want something, Weasley?" An almost indulgent grin on his face.

"For you to get the fuck out of my way," Fred snarls, and finds himself lifted off the ground, face-to-face with Flint.

"Watch your mouth, feather-weight," Flint snarls at him, and the air seems thicker, suddenly, almost oppressing.

Fred swallows heavily. "Let me go, you fucker," but he can hear the tremble in his own voice, part fear, part something else entirely. He can only hope Flint doesn’t notice.

Flint grins at him again, then lets go.

Fred stumbles, scrambles, and rushes off to wherever he was going – for a moment, he can’t remember – with Flint’s laughter chasing him.

And then there's this, which is for Fleur, cause she needs it.

Drabble and a half, and injokes abound.

the ballad of chris and morris

On the last day of filming for Stone, Sean gave Chris a goodbye present. Chris blinked at it. "A plant?"

"His name is Morris," Sean grinned. “He eats flies.”

"A flesh-eating plant named Morris?"

Sean beamed, and Chris didn't have the heart to point out that he'd killed every plant he'd ever had within a week. Including a fake one. So he took Morris home, and watered him every other day.

After the first month, when it became clear that Morris wasn't going to die any time soon, Chris found himself telling the plant about things he'd be telling Sean about, had Sean been around. I'm talking to a plant. A flesh-eating plant. Named Morris.

After a while, he didn't care anymore, because Morris made him miss Sean less, and when the shooting for Chamber finally began, he took Morris to the set, to say hello to Sean.

Comments

[usual.livejournal.com]

::squeals childishly::

I particularly like the Marcus/Fred one. Fantastic! Thank you!

Re:

[bubosquared.livejournal.com]

Yay! Thanks. *thwirl*