#sixsentencesunday

[mirrorofliterature]

simp, oliver wood edition

He wants to listen to Percy talk about a million and one things. Oliver is watching Percy softly, too softly, too tenderly...

Oliver is overtaken by a burning desire to snog Percy senselessly and study every inch of him, even right now, when it is far from an appropriate time or place.

[marchingatmidnight]

Tagged by @singerofsimplesongs​ for Six Sentence Sunday! I don’t care that it’s Tuesday time is meaningless, so here’s six sentences from my fic for @goingoutwithabigbang​. 

Eric Bittle called me himself to tell me he would love to sit down for this interview, and that his husband’s agent would be calling to formally confirm the pair’s participation.

And then he tells me his first thoughts when approached by his agent.

“Oh my God, it’s been ten years already?”

The Olympics are never without their fair share of drama, scandal, and movie worthy storylines. However, the 2018 Winter Olympics remains burned into the sports world’s memory especially bright.

And the sports world, despite their recent retirement, includes Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann.

I’m gonna tag @thejordanandhervices @son_of_the_waves @bigspicysenpai @insertatitlehere @wjpoindexters @theimpossibleathlete @missweber

[assassintine]

Was tagged by @incognito-insomniac for the @ao3commentoftheday Six Sentence Sunday challenge. Thanks for tagging me by the way! So here’s a little something from something I started and I’m not really sure where I’m going with it (though I would like to finish it).

Graviir stood there, panting, teeth barred still after a feral growl, axes gripped firmly in hands as if awaiting a further attack...

It had taken time getting used to the island, figuring out what plants and animal parts that could compare from those of his own lands. Potions and tonics had to be figured out, ways to combat his toxicity in moments like this. None of that mattered now. The only two things that were on his mind was the scent of blood from the monsters he’d just finished slaughtering and if more were on their way, hiding, waiting to creep upon him as if he were the unsuspecting victim.

If there were any left behind, he’d have certainly picked up on them by now.

I’m terrible at knowing who to tag for such things so if you write and see this and want to post something, please do, and please tag me in it! <3

[rachelrogers11]

Six Sentence Sunday

The touch of her fingers were soft as silk against the coarseness of his cratered cheek.

He shuddered.

She caressed his scars and it hurt.

It hurt that a beast of a dog like he would never deserve the gentle touches of this little wolf beauty.

He tried to cling to his rage, the rage he could always depend on to drown any need to feel more but the determination flowing from her gaze was a tide he could not fight.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330241/chapters/38203448

[mirrorofliterature]

perciver mission fic sneak peek

Dusk had been on the verge of falling when Percy had turned up at Oliver’s apartment, unexpectedly. Fire had flickered in his eyes, a hot and scorching flame locked behind his thick square glasses. I need you to take me somewhere, he had said, and so Oliver had. 

He would do anything for Percy.

[mirrorofliterature]

molly weasley criticism feat. percy

“She made her love conditional, and I always knew that, intrinsically.”

A hand held up, preemptively in self-defence. “Mother wasn’t the worst parent or person in the world. But she is far from perfect. It has never felt like she missed me, but rather the idea of me, the poster child who succeeded and could do no wrong.”

. 

SixSentenceSunday (or thereabouts) through Percy criticising his mother’s lacklustre parenting skills. don’t worry, arthur also gets roasted 0.2 seconds after this!

[mirrorofliterature]

remus lupin, world weary soul at 33, joined by other world weary soul at 17, percy weasley

Then, a flurry of hands.

They were children, during the war. It still holds a shine of excitement for them all.

Only Percy doesn’t seem excited: he was probably old enough to remember his uncles’ brutal deaths.

[mirrorofliterature]

“I know,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Ginny pauses, forcing herself to take a break and drink some water before she continues. “I wish they knew that, but they don’t listen to any criticism of their parenting.” She chuckles, abruptly. “I think Sirius pissed them off in 1996 once by suggesting that maybe Arthur had something to do with your estrangement from the family, that you weren’t the one solely to blame. That you were so young, still.”