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#yes this is part of my advent month
xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 months
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He doesn't want much!
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outsideratheart · 1 year
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Christmas Miracle (Alexia Putellas x reader)
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A/N: This technically is not part of my advent calendar series but you guys wanted angst and who am iIto say no. To the anons who sent requests for this, i hope you like it. I know it isn’t quite what one of you asked for but I did try to use both of them to build the fic.
2022 was a rollercoaster of emotions for both you and Alexia. You had immense success with Barcelona despite failing to complete the quadruple. Then Alexia had her injury the day before your first game with England. Whilst the summer was one you will remember for the rest of your life, it is one Alexia wished never happened. 
Off the pitch you spent endless hours at media events and photoshoots, luckily you had each to lean on when things became too much. 
It was the reason why your final appearance of the year was bearable. FC Barcelona requested that the captains of the female team attend the gala so that they can talk about how the women’s game is progressing. 
By the time the event ends both of your social batteries are drained and you are ready to go home. 
“Tonight has been the best so far” you lean back against the leather seat letting the coldness of the fabric calm you. 
“That’s because it was our first one where the world knows we are together. We didn’t have to hide our love” Alexia rests her head on your shoulder. Her fingers interlock with yours as they lay in your lap. 
There were many reasons why the night was a success but none came close the one Alexia said. The summer was a test for many reasons yet despite this your relationship with Alexia grew stronger than ever. Being in a different country when your girlfriend was going through the hardest time of her live didn’t stop you from being there for her and Alexia’s injury didn’t stop her from cheering you on from Barcelona. It was during the final when Alexia asked you if you she could tell the world about the two of you. You obviously said yes having been waiting for her to comfortable enough to do so. 
“I got to dance with the most beautiful girl in the world and everyone else had to watch on in envy” you recall the moment in your head, it was one that had never happened before. The music slowed yet you and Alexia stayed on the dance floor as you swayed to the beat. The crowd around you becomes less relevant with every verse that is played. 
“We certainly stole the show” Alexia says. 
“What’s next? We are officially on winter break. I didn’t really get an off season due to AMOS cup, I’m ready for a holiday” you ask Alexia knowing that she has been working with your manager, who just so happened to be hers, to make sure you got at least two weeks off. No photoshoots, no interviews, no distractions in the slightest. 
“I’m thinking Australia. Me, you, mum and Alba fly out on the 22nd then have an open invite for anyone to join us between Christmas and new year” Alexia used the words thinking loosely. Truth is she has been planning this for a couple of months. 
“That sounds like heaven” you dip your head slightly to kiss her temple. A smile dugs at your lips when you feel her relax into your touch. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence as the radio plays a Spanish Christmas song that Alexia seems to know all the words to. You make a mental note to ask her about it later having never heard it before.
You are calm and still in that moment, holding the woman you love but then out the corner of your eye you can see a set of car lights getting closer and closer. You think it is going to stop but when it becomes clear that the driver has no plans to do so, you do what comes naturally. You protect Alexia. You quickly shift in your seat so that your back is against the door. Alexia doesn’t have a chance to question the movement as the car is hit. 
The force of the impact causes the car to roll but enough times that it remains upright. 
All Alexia can hear is ringing through her ears, her vision is blurred but she tries her hardest to come to her senses. She squeezes her eyes shut then focuses on her breathing. When she opens them again everything is back in focus. The sight she saw filled her with panic and struck fear within her. 
“Ale” Your voice is strained and she can only guess how much pain you must be in.
“Baby, you’re ok” Alexia words are more a form of reassurance for her than you.
She is frozen. What does she do? Does she try to move you? No, in the TV shows they say never move the person as it can cause more harm. There is a deep wound on your side no doubt from the car hitting you. She reaches one arm behind your head whilst the other one applies pressures in hope of stopping the bleeding but she feels warm liquid on her hand which is near your head. When she pulls it away her hand is covered in blood.
“Can you lean forward for me?” 
You eyes fail to focus as they stare into space but you do as she says. When you do Alexia can see a cut on the back of your head. This only fills her with more panic as she knows head injuries are very serious.
“Are you both ok?” The driver, who has managed to get out of the vehicle, asks the two of you.
“I am, I think. Y/N is hurt badly, she has cut to her side and a deep cut on the back of her head. It could be worse I don’t know. What do I do?” The panic grows tenfold as Alexia says your injuries out loud.
“Alexia are you hurt?” the driver asks.
This earns a scoff from the midfielder. How could he not see the shape you are in. Why would he ask about her and not you.
“She is hurt” it is all Alexia can bring herself to say.
“I know and I have already called 112. I have told them that Y/N is injured but they asked me about you”
This made more sense.
“I’m ok, I think” Alexia looks herself up and down and repeats her words.
“You have” you cough suddenly “a cut on your eyebrow”
If the situation wasn’t as serious Alexia would have laughed at your selflessness. Here you are, clearly in pain with god knows how many injuries yet you have taken the time to check her out.
She wants to make a clever remark but when she looks back you she see’s your eyes slowly closing, as if you cannot take no more. The pain rushing through your entire body is becoming too much to bare.
“No, No” Alexia begins crying as the severity and the possible outcome of this becomes real.
“Y/N, baby, mi amor, mi alma” She uses every nickname she have ever given you in hopes that one will register.
“I love you Alexia” It was said like a last affirmation of your love for her “If this is where my story ends then I want you to know I have loved every minute spent by your side and I wouldn’t change it for the world” a single tear runs down your cheek and Alexia is quick to wipe it away.
“Don’t cry for me baby. Focus on the good times we have had, they are ours and will stay with you until the end of time” 
Those are your last words as your body succumbs to the pain. 
The paramedics arrive not long after. As they load you into the ambulance the driver, one that the team had used and who had gotten to know you and the rest of girls well, tells Alexia that he called Jonatan and he has let the team know what happened.
The hospital waiting room is eerily quiet as multiple families wait for updates on their loved ones conditions. Alexia is sat alone in the corner, her hands stained red with your blood. The white trousers she wore are now more pink. Her mind wanders to what happened. She soon finds herself angry with you, which angers her more given the current condition you were in, you chose to put yourself in harms way to safe her. It reminds her of when you were watching some action film, the name escapes her but she remembers you saying that you would sacrifice yourself for her, you said you would take a bullet for her, she never thought for a minute that you would ever prove this to her.
She is so caught up in her own mind that she doesn’t see that she has company.
“Ale” Alba takes a seat near her sister.
The feeling of comfort that her little sister brings shocks Alexia but in that moment she has never been more grateful for her.
Words fail Alexia as every negative emotion rises to the surface. Her body racks with sobs as Alba pulls her close whilst fearing the worst.
“Is Y/N —“ Mapi cannot say the words out loud in fear of getting the answer she didn’t want to hear.
Ingrid pulls her close now knowing how her girlfriend would react if the worse were to have happened to her best friend.
“No, No. Y/N is fine. She is the strongest out of all us. Tell her Alexia” Pina all but begs.
Still, Alexia cannot bring herself to face the team. She cannot look them in eye and say that she is reason why you are in surgery, all because you made the split second decision that her life holds more value than your own.
“Alexia” Leila whispers as she crouches down in front of her friend “are you ok?” 
Again Alexia didn’t expect it. Why was she getting asked about herself when you were in much worse shape. Then it hit her, the nurses must not have told them anything about your condition, they weren’t family. At least not according the the hospital. 
“It was bad Leila. There was nothing I could do. One minute she was holding me then next thing we got hit by a car. She’s hurt Leila, there was so much blood. Her side and her head” 
The team hang on Alexia’s every word as they get told what happened. 
“She is alive, yes?” Mapi asks and for the first time since entering the hospital she has hope. 
“She’s in surgery” Alexia looks up and faces her team “she was unconscious when we got here but the doctors said she had a heartbeat” 
“That’s good Ale” Alba tries to reassure her sister. 
“No Albs, you didn’t see her. She said goodbye, like she was already giving up” 
The girls listen in shock. You had never given up on anything in your entire life, you were too stubborn to do so.
“Y/N doesn’t give up and she won’t leave, not without living her life with you. She has plans for the two of you Alexia. She has told me over and over again about how she plans on marrying you and having a family with you. How one day your children will celebrate with you both as you win games and trophies. Trust me Alexia, she has plans for the two of you and she won’t leave this earth having not done any of them” Mapi uses every ounce of positive energy she has to reassure your girlfriend knowing that you would do the same if you were in her position.
“I don’t if we will get that future maps. I know this is hard for you too, I know she is your best friend and I know that you must be just as scared as I am” Alexia stands for the first time since the team arrived. She stands so that she can embrace her in a hug.
“She’ll be ok Alexia. Our Y/N doesn’t give up without a fight. She needs us to be strong because she can’t” Mapi responds.
The team sit, pace and stand in the waiting room as the doctors work on you in the operating theatre. A hour passes before they see a man, in his late 40s, dressed in scrubs approach them.
“Are you the family of Y/N Y/L/N?” the surgeon asks and everyone nods in response.
Alexia is front and centre as she listens to him explain the surgery and what is next for you.
“I know it must be scary but the surgery went well. She had a brain bleed and some internal bleeding, both of which we were able to control rather easily but due to head trauma she is in a coma” 
Upon hearing this several girls gasp in shock whilst Alexia’s face remains stoic. 
“A coma?” she needs him to confirm what she heard was correct.
“A medically induced coma. Head traumas can be difficult to recover from. You don’t realise how much we use our brain because the tasks come so easily to us. Y/N needs to heal before she come back to you, ok?” 
“She is going to be ok though? The crash was bad, I thought I was going to lose her” 
She can tell the doctor is thinking carefully about his response. The chances of recovery were high but the truth is they won’t know how well the surgery went until you wake up.
“Your girl is a fighter Alexia” 
What she does next is unexpected. She pulls the doctor into a hug, thanking him over and over again for saving you. He of course says it part of his job and that the hard part is all on you. Visitors are allowed and he explains that due to the circumstances and with it being the holidays he will allow everyone in to see you.
“You go in first Ale” Alba hesitantly pushes Alexia towards your room.
Alexia froze at the threshold almost as if she was waiting to be let in. There you laid, unconscious, helpless and unrecognisable. If you were to ask anyone who ever met you and they would say that your eyes were unforgettable yet in this moment as your eyes remain closed Alexia tries and fails to remember what they looked like. The tube that was helping you breath causes a level of panic and fear inside Alexia that she never thought possible. 
When she plucks up the courage to enter the room she doesn’t go straight to you. Instead she chooses to stand at the foot of your bed, her mind running a hundred miles an hour as flashbacks flood her mind. 
She has seen the movies so she knows that she should talk to you and that could help but in there moment she is speechless. 
Then she sees your personal belongings on the table beside you. In the clear bag was your jewellery. Some was what you wore for the gala but what she wanted the most was your everyday Jewellery. Your necklace and the ring you always wore on your middle finger. Every since you met you had these items having been given them when your grandmother passed away. 
She proceeds to place the necklace around her neck and places your ring on her finger. The small sentiment brings her peace having it feel like part of you is with her. 
“Mi alma” she takes a seat beside you bringing your cold hand to her mouth as she places several kisses on the back of it. 
”You talked about our story ending but it is only just beginning. I have so much planned for us, you have to wake up that I can show you” Alexia wipes her nose “Please Y/N”
You don’t answer her, how could you. 
Alexia is alone with for you almost half an hour. Alba knocks gently on the door as not to scare her sister. 
“They can come in” Alexia says like she knows what her sister is about to ask. 
With that rest of the Barcelona girls enter your hotel room. Some go straight to your unconscious form, others watch from afar. 
It’s when Alexia sees Mapi frozen in the door way, much like she was, does she move from your side. 
“She saved my life Maria” Alexia confesses almost like it was a crime. 
“I know” the defender nonchalantly replies. 
“How?” 
“It something she would do. She loves you and I could tell my the way you were acting that there was something more to it than just a car accident” 
“I’m so mad at her. Is that wrong?” Alexia knows that she shouldn’t be mad that you saved her live but the cost of that it sit well with her. Should the worse happen, how could she live with herself. 
“Oh I’m mad at her too Ale. When she wakes up she will have us both to deal with” Mapi tries to lighten the mood knowing that the alternative wasn’t an option. She had to remain optimistic and plan for the future. A future in which you wake up. 
Hours pass, the moon takes place of the sun in the sky and the team get told that visiting hours are over. Unfortunately these rules applied to Alexia regardless of how hard she argues. 
“Ale” Alba grabs her sister’s shoulder “you’ll go home, get showered and get some sleep then we will come first thing in the morning”
“I can’t go home. I can’t go back to our home without her” the vulnerability of Alexia’s current state is not something Alba is used to. 
“Then we will go to mama’s and the three of us will come here together tomorrow”
And that is what happens day in and day out. The Putellas women visit in the Morning, the doctor allows Alexia to stay throughout the day and then the team visits in the afternoon. 
4 days after the accident, the doctors are happy with your progress so they take the breathing tubes out. The hope that was slowly leaving Alexia get reinstilled. 
Everyday Alexia talks to you. She tell you stories about what has been happening in the world. She shares her favourites moments that the two of you have shared over the years. Mapi brings in her iPad and talks you through the tattoo designs she has come up with, even stating which ones you should get. 
When Christmas Eve comes the energy amongst the team is down. So when Jana and Bruna suggest decorating your room for when you wake up everyone agrees it’s a good idea. 
Alexia allows it but doesn’t join in. Every year the two of you decorate your house and doing it without you feels wrong. 
“Mija, why aren’t you helping?” Eli asks as she sees her daughter sitting outside your room instead of with you. 
“I can’t do it anymore” she runs her fingers through her hair in frustration “I have tried to be positive but what if she never wakes up or worse what is she—“ 
“Ale you can’t think like that. Y/N is strong. From what you and the doctor have told me her injuries are bad which is why it is taking so long for her to heal” 
“I really love her and I don’t think I can do this without her” Alexia collapses in her mum’s arms as once again her emotions overwhelm her. 
“I know you do and I know she loves you. Your story isn’t over, this is just a story you will tell your children” Eli says. 
“I will not tell my children how their mother almost died protecting me” Alexia is quick to respond. 
She hopes to never talk about this every again. Once you wake up this can be put in the past. 
“I spoke to the doctors. They said I can stay here tonight with it being Christmas Day tomorrow. Will you and Alba come visit us?” Alexia asks her mum. 
“Of course. Who needs Australia when we can come to the best hospital in Barcelona?“ 
Her mothers joke causes Alexia to laugh maybe more so than necessary. She couldn’t believe how much had changed in just under ten days. You are suppose to be in Australia right now and instead you are fighting for your life. 
When the next morning arrives Alexia feels hopeful for the first time since the crash. It wasn’t just ‘you will be ok’ hope, it’s something different, something more powerful. 
“Merry Christmas Y/N” Alexia kisses your temple. 
“I don’t know what you have got me this year or if you even had the chance to get anything but I want you to know that the only thing I want is for you to wake up. These past ten days have been the worst in my life”.
She wipes her tears for the umpteenth time. 
“I need to see your beautiful eyes, hear your infectious laugh, I need you Y/N” 
Alexia goes to her bag to get your present. The small black velvet box which she had bought almost a year prior is held firmly in her hands. 
“I had plans Y/N” Alexia opens the box to reveal the silver band with a small diamond in the centre. 
“Alba helped me pick it out so I know you’ll like it. She misses you by the way, mum too and Nala, Ay Dios Mío she has no idea what is going on” 
“I love you with all my heart and I planned to go into 2023 with you as my fiancée” Alexia pulls the ring out of the box as she plays with the diamond. 
She then places it on your ring finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it fits perfectly. 
“You suppose to ask me first” your voice is hoarse. 
You slowly open your eyes, squinting slightly due to the brightness of the lights. It takes a few seconds to realise where you are and how you got there but then you remember. 
“The crash. Alexia, are you ok?” You reach for her face. 
“I’m ok, thanks to you. You saved me Y/N” 
You see Alexia start to get emotional. A sight that doesn’t get easier no matter how many times you see it. 
“Come here mi amor” you use all of your strength to move yourself across the bed so she can fit. 
Alexia wants to argue. She wants to tell you to be careful but she is craving your touch. So she buries herself into your side. 
“Careful. That hurts” you tell her and her hand reaches to where the wound on your side is. 
“There was so much blood. I thought I was going to lose you” Alexia has told many people this but it is much harder saying it to you. 
“Hey. We don’t have to talk about it. Let’s talk about this” you hold your hand up for the two of you to look at. 
The ring was beautiful. 
“I bought it last year when we were in Dubai. I was waiting for the right time to ask you” 
“And you thought that now, in a hospital, was the right time” you tease her. 
“I never actually asked you” Alexia rises to the teasing. 
You raise your eyebrow in response. A smirk pulls at your lips as you wait. 
“I love you Y/N. I had so much I wanted to say but I don’t want to waste anymore time. If I have learnt anything in the last few days it’s like life is short and I don’t want to spent another day without you as my fiancée. Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”
“I will” it was the easiest answer you have ever given. 
When Alexia shifts her weight you know what is coming. The kiss is likr something you have never experience before. The passion in it makes you emotional and when you feel Alexia’s tears on your cheek you know she must be feeling the same thing. 
“I wished for a miracle and here you are” Alexia pulls away. She lets you hugs her, hold her in your arms whilst reassuring her than you are ok. 
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dramioneasks · 5 months
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Christmas Fics 2023 (Part 6):
Warm For Christmas by MidnightPhilosopher - T, one-shot - Head Girl Hermione suddenly finds herself without plans for Christmas break during her eighth year at Hogwarts. Head Boy Draco doesn't have any plans either. Neither wants to stay in the cold castle for the holiday. So they run away.
Sounds Worth It by RoseHarperMaxwell - T, one-shot - The first time Draco seeks her out at the hospital is a crisp October day, which happens to be the six-month anniversary of her divorce. “Hello,” says Hermione, glancing up from her paperwork. “Draco. Can I…help you?” He’s well put together, dropping gracefully into the chair across from her desk without invitation. “Yes. I’m in need of medical attention.” “I see.” Hermione does not, in fact, see. This is quite unorthodox. There’s a triage procedure and rarely does it result in patients coming to her office. “Tell me more.” Five times Draco fakes an ailment as an excuse to visit Hermione, and one time he doesn't. D/Hr Advent 2023 🎄
A Family of Their Own by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - Draco is at St. Mungo's with minor injuries and Hermione means to go pick him up, except a certain little boy catches her on her way out.
grey clouds and cocoa cups. by crownedgrief - T, one-shot - “—I’ll fill your plate at every meal. I’ll carry you to every class. I’ll make sweet, sweet love to you every night.” Madam Pomfrey doesn’t ask how Draco’s face suddenly comes to be broken out in pus-filled hives. Hermione doesn’t offer any explanation beyond “he really should be more careful, Madam Pomfrey, don’t you think?” to which Draco responds with two fingers flipped up. - Hermione and Draco falling in love slowly.
Walking In A Winter Wonderland by potterhead25919 - E, WIP - Hermione Granger Portkeyed into France. Or what she thought was France until she looked around, pushing the hair being whipped around out of her face. Everything was blanketed in layer upon layer of snow, giving it an innocent, serene look. Trees stretched for miles, surrounding one solitary cabin. Well, the word cabin might have been an understatement. It looked like someone made the smallest mansion, at least 7000 square feet by the looks of it, and then dropped it in the middle of nowhere, sticking out like a sore thumb. Since she didn't have anywhere to go because technically she should be in a warm villa with Harry and Ginny for the holidays, she started the trek on foot to the front of the "cabin." When she reached the front door, she knocked twice, praying someone would be there. In the meantime, she cast a warming charm and huddled under the front stoop. A series of locking noises could be heard from the other side, and finally, a head peaked out of the door. A blond head, with silver eyes and a surprised expression on her face. "Granger?" Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking very confused.
Penguins, Pebbles, and Other Reasons to Pursue Unemployment by mightbewriting - T, one-shot - “Is that…shit? On my desk?” Granger doesn’t so much as look up from her mountain of teetering parchments at Draco’s question. Her hair: frazzled. Her frown: ominous. The energy in their shared office: frantic. “Penguin shit,” she says. “Specifically, it’s penguin shit.” [In which a penguin-themed mishap at the Ministry nearly costs Draco his sanity.]
Family Christmas by Eldyra - K, one-shot - Draco and Hermione are married and just had their first child. Everything is perfect. Well, almost everything. With Christmas around the corner, can the complicated relationship with Draco's parents be salvaged? Are Lucius and Narcissa willing to overcome their prejudice now that they're grandparents?
A Perfect Christmas by cleotheo - T, one-shot - When Hermione's plans to host Christmas hit a snag, her husband, Draco steps in to give his wife the perfect Christmas she'd been so looking forward to. Fluffy, Dramione festive one shot.
To the future by Lunapon - not rated, one-shot - A very short story about Hermione’s eighth year at hogwarts which is filled with old friendships and new acquaintances, with Christmas just around the corner.
All Wrapped Up by Nusilverwolf - E, one-shot - She wanted him. This aggravating, arrogant, arsehole. This handsome, hypnotic, hopeless fool. “Granger, please.” Draco begged, head tilted back to expose the flush spread across his cheekbones and the lust in his eyes, “Just unwrap me.”
Snow On Snow by ifyouwereamelody - M, one-shot - “Alright, listen up, folks! Snow’s really coming down now, and I’m sorry to be saying it but the pass in’t safe to use. Looks like we’re all stuck here ‘til it can be cleared. That’s gonna be tomorrow at the earliest.” The rest of the pub breaks out into chatter, but Hermione just sits there, muted, struck dumb in more ways than one with not a thought in her head other than oh... god. All Hermione was looking for was a nice, Christmassy evening with Ginny in Britain's highest pub. Instead, she gets an ex, a snowstorm, and a whole heap of buried emotions brought back to the surface. Wrap up — there's a blizzard on the way.
In Perpetuity by loafy531 - M, one-shot - Hermione brings Draco to Christmas at the Burrow as her fake boyfriend. Christmas fluff with a side of post-divorce angst. “Who says you need to be your old self at all? How about, just be the version of yourself you are right now. Are we not perpetually destroying and reinventing ourselves with each passing moment? It’s practically the human condition, Granger. And anyway, who is he to say what, or who, is and isn’t right for you—Hermione Granger— the woman who single-handedly saved the wizarding world. Some nerve.”
Is That Mistletoe? by ohthedrarrydrabbles (ohthedrarry) - G, one-shot - Christmas Day arrives at Hogwarts with the sound of Draco trying, and failing, to win a war against an artificial Christmas tree in the Head Boy/Girl shared dormitory. Hermione is charmed to say the least.
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Dating George Weasley Would Include
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You and the twins would be friends from day one. 
And George has been smitten for just as long.
Though he’d never admit it to you.
The only person he’s told is Fred.
And though you and Fred are besties he’s sick of hearing how pretty you are or how you accidentally fell asleep on George’s shoulder.
‘Just tell her what’s the worse that could happen?’ ‘Um, she could hear me and know that I’m a complete muppet who’s in love with his best friend.’ ‘What?’ 
He’d have to come clean after that. 
And he’d be super nervous and very un-george-like. 
You’d tell him how you felt the same. 
Your first date would be to Hogsmede. 
And you’d brave it and kiss him in a booth at the three broomsticks. 
He’s super sweet. 
He loves holding your hand. 
And cuddling! 
But getting a moment alone proves difficult. 
And Fred gets the pair of you are ‘in looooove’ but he doesn’t like being left out. 
Sometimes the only way to get him to go is to literally tell him to get lost or start making out in front of him. Then he’s suddenly got places to be. 
You never argue but you bicker like an old married couple. 
The only thing you’ve ever fought about is a hot moment when he thought you and Fred were into one another.
You’d been play fighting and Fred had pinned you down and tickled you. 
‘Are you going to tell me what’s the matter with you or do I have to guess?’ ‘Why don’t you ask your new boyfriend?’ ‘Okay have I missed something.’ ‘You and Fred looked awfully cosy earlier.’ ‘If you think I’ve got any interest in Fred you need to give your head a wobble.’ 
That argument would spill into a deep talk that would last the whole night. 
He’s a little insecure. He’s bound to be. He and Fred are either lumped in as one or compared to the other. 
You assure him that to you he is everything you could ever want. 
But you and Fred would obviously tease him for thinking you two would ever. 
‘It’d be like kissing Ginny.’ ‘Like I’d ever get the pair of you confused.’ ‘That sounds like a challenge.’
You always being able to tell them apart would become a running joke. 
They’d be determined to outsmart you. But they never could. 
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Molly would love you. 
But she’d be furious that you’d condone them dropping out of school. 
But you know the pair of them are destined for good things. 
You’d spend any spare time at the shop. 
And once you were out of school you’d start working there full-time and living with the pair of them.
They’re hard work to live with though. 
You’d definitely need a cleaning rota. 
But as work, the order and the war got more serious. 
You’d stop nagging. 
The time you had together wasn’t for arguing. 
You felt that especially since he got injured. 
Your heart would drop when you saw them bringing him in mangled and bloody.
‘You know if you wanted my attention you only had to ask.’ ‘I just thought this was your way of making sure you can always tell us apart.’ 
You’d never dream that months later you’d always be able to.
George was a wreck after losing Fred. 
So were you but you forced yourself to keep going. 
You managed to keep the shop going, the house, and yourselves. 
It was only when he managed to feel okay enough to start inventing again he’d realise just how hard you’d worked to keep him going.
And that’s when he’d ask to marry you.
You wouldn’t even have time to think before you were saying yes. 
He’d allow Molly to throw an enagament party
But your wedding would be just the two of you because if Fred couldn't be by his side as his best man he didn't want anyone else there either.
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THIS IS PART OF MY CHRISTMAS CHALLENGE. I’LL BE POSTING AN IMAGINE EVERDAY FROM 1ST - 25TH DECEMBER. THIS AND ALL IMAGINES WILL BE UPLOADED IN THE LINK POSTED DAY BY DAY.
ADVENT CALENDAR OF IMAGINES
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smolvenger · 1 year
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The Twelve Days (Henry V x fem! Reader Miniseries), Chapter One
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Summary: "You, luckiest of girls, are betrothed to none other than the king of England!"
You celebrate the Twelve days- from Christmas to New Year- in your role as queen in an arranged marriage to King Henry V. How will you cope with your new role? And what about your husband?
Warnings: Eventual Smut starting in Part Two, Arranged Marriage, discussions of Sexual Assault but no attacks, impolite courtiers, marriages, families, Henry's codpiece is mentioned and he is an actual dick for a hot second but gets better bc you get to call him out on it.
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Summary: This was inspired by Lucy Worsely's documentary "The Twelve Days of Tudor Christmas" plus some of the tidbits I learned about the reading about royal life in that era. Yes, I know some of these practices come from that era 100 years after Henry V but it's my fic and I can do what I want.
COMMENTS, KUDOS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE APPRECIATED!
Your eyes were drooping, fighting the urge to close them. You fought the urge to yawn at such a sacred space as Midnight Mass. But especially considering the crown on your head and hearing your husband’s slow exhales next to you, you made yourself in the present, listening to the words. At least the chill of the castle chapel and the light touch of the necklace you wore kept you awake.
All of December you had to prepare for the Christmas season with fasting. Even the king, your husband, Henry V had to.
Husband- the word felt new.
Months ago, it was announced suddenly that you had to travel to London. Your parents hugged and kissed you in deep congrats.
“Why, what is it?” you asked.
“Y/N, you’re betrothed!”
“Betrothed!? To whom?”
“You, luckiest of girls, are betrothed to marry none other than the King of England!” your mother cheered.
 Your heart leaped in your chest and the room spun. Were you even awake?
“Henry Bolingbroke? But he’s an old man now and quite sick!” you cried
“No- haven’t you heard? He’s dead and his son, Hal, is the king! Not Henry the Fourth- You’re going to marry Henry the Fifth!” your father explained with excitement.
You had never met him.
You heard all the stories concerning Prince Hal. He was apparently a wild boy- who frequented taverns, placed prostitutes on his lap and wore their favors to jousts, and enjoyed playing pranks with thieves. He could put Bacchus to shame with the chaos he would get into.  For a time, he rarely appeared in court due to preferring his revels late at night with the seedy company and getting drunk. And now this wild, drinking, philandering, troublemaker was not only the new king of England but your husband!
You could hardly speak when you joined the carriage with your parents for your first meeting. The whole ride seemed to last forever and you were sweating beneath your nicest pink dress.
 Your heart was beating as hard as if you were running and you felt sick with nerves entering the palace. There was a flourish with footsteps like a march. The door was open and a loud voice announced: “His royal majesty, Henry the Fifth.”
God, protect me! You thought in terror. You looked it up.
Imagine your delight that it was a young, attractive man. He was clearly sober. Surely better than marrying either an old man or a partying drunkard.
“Lady Y/L/N, I greet you, most fair lady. I bid you welcome,” he said.
“Your majesty,” you replied with a bow along with your parents.
 He offered you his hand and you accepted it. And in yours he placed a little wildflower that you took.
“May I kiss your hand and call you my queen?” he asked politely.
Swallowing, you nodded your head. You reached out your hand and he accepted it, bowing down his head, you saw the combed back curls hidden under his crown. He kissed it lightly.
“It is our advice for the wedding to be as soon as possible. Before the fasting of Advent…and the sooner you have an heir, the better.” An older man, the Chief Justice, suggested.
“Then let it be so,” Henry replied.
An awkward dinner passed and that was that. The next time you would see him would be your wedding day, now set to November.  
Besides, the more cynical side of your brain thought, you were being brought in as no more than a glorified broodmare for England. A pretty accessory for the king. Once you squeezed out a son, you thought, he would toss you away for a mistress. But such thoughts you dared not tell your parents or family who all saw you as the shining star of their family for propelling them to royalty at the price of your maidenhead. And there was one upside to being Queen Consort- it relieved you of the harder choices and responsibilities that any king or any ruler would have, you thought.
November and the Wedding arrived. You couldn’t sleep the night before. You were brought to that same chapel in a pretty white dress befitting a queen. You felt like a child playing dress up. You couldn’t believe that every eye on the country was on you as the bishop placed your hand on Henry’s and made the sign of the cross over you two. The ceremony ended in a daze.
Your stomach churned so much you couldn’t eat much of the feast. You understood what was coming and the horror stories relayed to you from almost every woman you knew. And from the quick glances you had at Henry’s codpiece, it was going to hurt.
 When the whole party followed you finally to your chambers and you were brought to that large stone room with the king’s bed- not your own private room for the queen- you wanted to cry from fear. That same bishop made the sign of the cross again at the bed. Once it was where Henry IV’s lifeless body was placed and now you knew you had to be placed there like a lamb on the altar, awaiting the knife.
 A few ladies in waiting- women of high status you knew you could trust- took off the tiara placed on your head and removed the ring from your finger. A few male servants began to undress Henry. Yet the court, many of whom were men, kept their eyes on you when the ladies moved onto the skirt of your wedding gown. They seemed to watch as one lady in waiting began to lift the skirt, showing some of your leg when…
“Please bring a screen,” the king ordered.
A screen was shuffled in to allow you privacy to change into night clothes. You stepped out, the cold stone floor touching your bare feet as you stood in your shift. You began to shiver.
Henry turned to you.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord,” you replied.
He took a black fur coat that was draped over a chair and placed it over you. His hands on your shoulders felt warm. He led you to sit on the chair near the writing desk.
“Now the rest of you- please leave the room…and do not stay at the door if you are not the guards…” he then said.
“But your majesty, we must make sure the marriage is consummated. You could at most close the drapes around the bed, but we must make sure you do your duty to your wife. For St. George and the sake of-“
“Yes, that is tradition. But seeing as I am the king now, here is a new one. I ask that all of you leave and go to your own rooms.” Henry protested.
They looked at each other in confusion.
“But how will we know if-“
“I’m sure once we discover she is pregnant, you will know the marriage is consummated. Now leave!”
They bowed their heads and left.
He walked up to you, and you backed off. But he held up a hand.
“Don’t be afraid, my lady,” he offered.
You heard the last footsteps of the courtiers vanish into the hallway. They gossiped and it rang through the halls, until it melted into nothing.
You took it and said, “I know you want me to…to…sleep with you.”
“Well, is that what you want? Do you want me to have you done tonight?” he asked.
“It’s what’s expected of us…” you answered meekly.
He scratched at his cleanly shaven chin.
“But is it what you want?” he asked.
You blinked. His own large hands overpowered your own, but they were soft.
“No…no I don’t want to…I’m not ready yet…” you confessed.
“Then you don’t need to worry. Nothing will happen tonight…” he assured you.
He let your hands go to gesture to a small table where there was a large jug
here- they gave us spiced wine for us to share. Have a cup.”
He poured you a generous amount and you sipped at it.
“You didn’t eat anything at the feast. Would you like me to ask for a plate?” he suggested.
“Yes, my lord.”
He opened the door and whispered to a guard. The coat almost drowned you in it’s size, but it was warm. Like petting the pelt of a black bear. Henry closed the door again.
“Thank you for the cloak…” you said.
“It used to be my father’s. And he was always cold.” He commented.
“My lord …what should I call you?” you asked.
“Henry will do for now…you can call me Harry. Maybe Hal later…what would you like me to call you?”
You gave him the name you wanted to be called and he repeated it.
 The terror of being raped gone, your appetite returned to you. You enjoyed the cup of spiced wine and although the plate of leftovers was tasty despite being cold.
Henry went to the desk full of papers.
“I have some letters to write…you seem tired, Y/N. It was a long day. When you’re done, you can sleep in my bed.”
You glanced at the bed, sitting in it and draping off the black cloak.
“You’re being kind to me, why?” you asked.
Both of you knew that you were now considered property of the most powerful man in the world. He had the right to do whatever he wanted with you whenever he wanted…and he was not doing anything.
“Because I don’t want to be hated. This was forced on me as much as on you. I can at least make your life my wife not a misery. I pity you, I guess,” he explained.
You settled into the sheets, resting your head against a large, round pillow placed before the square ones.
“Henry where are you going to sleep tonight?” you asked.
“I’ll crawl in later. Don’t be nervous- but it’s big enough. I won’t be able to touch you…” he said,
“What if I never want you to touch me?” you asked curiously.
He turned to you and got his own cup of wine, raising it.
“I think I know of an abbey that will let me in. I’ll become bald and fat and join them,” he said with a smile.
You fell asleep deeply and quickly. Once you woke up, you were ushered in.
And here you were today. In a far grander chapel than the one you were used to. But instead of praying with your family, you were leaning your head down to pray next to your husband. He gave you a kiss on the hand as a good night before your servants ushered you back to your separate rooms and beds left for a royal and still unconsummated marriage.
------------------------------------------
The First Day of Christmas
The first day was a feast. It was a smaller party away from the prying eyes of the court. The party consisted of you, Henry, his three brothers, and his “favorites”- the Chief Justice, Warwick, and Lord Exeter. The room was a smaller stone room with a long walkway and a window to the cold outside world. You missed your family and celebrated the twelve days of Christmas with them. If only you knew it would be your last celebration together then! Now, here you were with a new family you were not at all familiar with- and the only woman at the table too!
You were amazed that the table was decorated with a peacock and a swan as if they were not killed but frozen in their place as they glazed over a pond. Before you placed a large Mince pie. You looked over and saw that there was his crest along with HR- Henry Rex or King Henry. It was so large you wondered why the table didn’t break from the weight of it!
The King was served first, the tenderest choice of slices of pie. Though there was a variety of meat.
“Did you miss eating meat all month, Henry?” you asked.
He nodded his head, “yes, I did. I almost forgot the taste of it and cheese. May I ask, Y/N, have you ever tried eel before?”
“I have not,” you said.
He poked his plate closer.
“Here- it’s my favorite fish to try on Christmas Day. Different from any other I’ve had. Give it a taste, tell me what you think!”
You poked your fork into it. It was light, but firm and with a little sweetness.
“It’s not bad!” you commented.
You felt a poke and saw it was one of the king’s brothers, John. A young, handsome man with cheekbones like his brother and a crop of soft, dark brown hair.
“My lady, save room on your plate. They’re about to present The Boar…”
“Will they sing the carol The Boar’s Head? I like that one!” you replied, nearly popping in your seat.
You heard your husband confirm “They will.”
But you saw his face turn white. His blue eyes lowered to the plate before him.
Soon a group of servants in fine robes and large hats with feathers walked in with a large platter over their shoulders with a roasted boar on it. One young man in green stepped forward, exhaled deep in his belly, and began to sing that jaunty tune in a bright baritone.
“The Boar’s head as I understand is the rarest dish in all the land!”
You smiled and tapped your foot to the beat of the familiar song. Everyone was nodding along, gazing at how the Boar’s head they brought had oranges in its eyes. The gold on it’s tusks gleamed from the candlelight. By the third verse you noticed the whole table was smiling…except Henry.
There was applause and it was brought in front of his plate and carved.
“Here, my lord, the choicest meats for you!” the servant boasted.
“Save some of these choice meats for the others- especially the queen. She is new here and should be welcomed.” He requested.
You glanced and you nodded your head in thanks. A tender part of the pork was cut off and brought to your plate.
“Thank you though…what troubles you, Henry?” you asked.
Since the feast was more private, you did not have to call him “my lord” but his name. That was one relief on your part.
“The Boar’s Head was name of the tavern I used to frequent…” he confessed.
His brothers perked up, listening. John’s jaw tightened.
“I heard about your youth, Henry. Do you miss it?” you asked innocently.
Part of you flinched, perhaps that was too personal. Even among his brothers. But you could hardly believe those same stories again.
“If I must be honest, a little…I let it go. I banished those from that tavern away from me….” He said.
There was silence for a minute. What could you say?
“It was the right thing to do, I think. But I imagine it was hard. But it is your right to banish a bad influence.” You reasoned gently.
You saw his fist was clamped in agony. There was a clanking of forks and knives as the others continued to eat.  Gently, you placed your hand over it. You felt it relax beneath you.
“Have you tried the boar, husband?” you asked.
“I…I haven’t.”
“It’s delicious. You should eat at least a little…it helps with nerves if I recall correctly” you said.
There was a shared look and you saw him smile, realizing that this time the roles were reversed. He began to stab his fork into the boat meat and eat it.
Although you were quite full, you saw there was still plenty of food on the table by the time the servants arrived to pick it up.
“What happens to the leftovers?” you asked curiously.
“They’re doles,” John explained. “We take them and distribute them to the poor outside the castle waiting for it…”
You turned to Henry and the servants “may I…may I help distribute them?” you asked.
Heads turned to you.
“You wish to hand out food to those without name?” Henry asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“But they’re only peasants,” he responded.
“They’re our people. They aren’t animals. If we’re good to them, they’ll follow us even more,” you replied.
“Majesty, it is not the usual fashion for you to do so…” the Lord of Exeter protested.
“I’d…I’d like to help. It’s Christmastide, after all. It’s right to do. It’s the feast of Christ’s Birth. It’s what He would do,” you explained.
“You aren’t wrong,” Henry said.
What was the good of being part of the most powerful family in the country if you couldn’t use it to help anyone? Besides, you had to count yourself extremely lucky that you had a large feast in a warm palace with servants to cater to your every whim. That was more than so many could dream of.
They looked to the king, who nodded.
“You shall…” he permitted.
He turned to the servants.
“Ask the ladies in waiting to give her a cloak for warmth. Make sure she isn’t harmed,” he asked the servants.
“Thank you, Henry” you said.
There was a small urge inside you. From how gentle he was to you on your wedding night, to how he was the opposite of what you expected, and now how he insisted you be fed equal to him and had permission to do what you wanted, a tenderness overcame you for Henry. You wanted to take his face and give him a kiss on the cheek from everything he had done- yes, even despite the peasant comment. But it would be too forward even in front of the smaller party. It was an action reserved for the privacy of husband and wife in their chambers. In gratitude, you merely clutched his hand and squeezed it and he let you.
You walked out, not noticing how Henry’s smile followed you out.
Once you were bundled up, you held a large plate full of meat from the board and walked outside. Hundreds of peasants, some in mere rags despite the cold, were shocked.
“Make way for the queen! Approach her one by one!” guards barked.
The first was a young woman who seemed to be your age. One good look at her and you realized at a different time or if different choices were made, you could have been the one begging at the gate. The only real difference between you two was the clothes on your back. It chilled you as you handed out meat and she bowed before scurrying off.
Now these people had to bow before you and some even knelt with reverence as if you weren’t flesh and mortality as they. But you leaned down, and with some tools, gave some rations of meat to them before they moved onto the servant with bits of the pie. Then another servant who kept the beef and other choices of beef. Some were amazed that Henry served crayfish, eels, and porpoise at his feast and that there were leftovers, rushing to sample what they tasted like just from curiosity.
The smiles on their faces seeing you and the hundreds of “thank you’s” from their faces warmed your heart. Seeing each walk away with something on their plate, you sent out a prayer for their safe return to their homes, food intact.
Little did you know that from his window, Henry watched you for a while. Something moving inside of him to see you smile as you handed out the doles.
--------------------------------------------------------
The Third Day of Christmas
The snow was crisp, clean, and even the next day. Already your ladies in waiting were watching it as it fell outside in puffy drifts. It was late afternoon and finally there was some wintertime weather.
“I think the St. Stephen feast was better than the Christmas one!” one said.
“I have to agree with you on that,” you agreed.
You walked over to return to your sewing circle. You passed by a spinning wheel that- like with the rest of the castle- was decorated with holly and ivy. The vines prevented the wheel from turning practically-there was to be no work for anyone on the Twelve Days of Christmas except the busy servants of royalty.
“I don’t know if I can even eat at another feast!” another lady sighed.
“I second that!” you said, looking down at the embroidery you began.
“You will have to,” came a voice from a distance away.
All of you stood up to see before you Warwick. Heads bowed in courtesy. When it got closer to evening, one male servant or courtier would arrive to you to give you an account of how Henry’s day went.
“Your majesty, I came to give you the annual report of the King’s Day- he spent the morning riding as usual, following by some celebratory hunting with bow and arrow. He then paid respects to Richard and his father’s grave before taking some time to study.”
“Very well and good fares my lord, king, and husband, I am glad,” you replied dutifully.
“And speaking of feasting, there is something important he asks…”
You folded your hands in front of you.
“What is it?”
He took in a deep breath.
“The King has asked to dine with you tonight in your quarters.”
There was a silence that fell along the ladies. All of their eyes got big. You looked among them and then shrugged.
“Oh! That is all- that’s alright. He may!” you answered with casual cheerfulness.
There was a burst of giggles from one lady that she immediately silenced putting a hand over her mouth. They all stared at you.
“What…what is it…what…what does this mean?” you asked.
“You don’t know…” Warwick asked.
“I don’t know…”
He lowered his head and turned pink. One lady went over to you.
“When you accept the king’s invitation to dinner…it’s expected that you…bed him right after. The king is actually asking you to bed him tonight…” she whispered to you.
You looked back at her in amazement and then at Warwick. Then at the ladies.
“Do you…change your mind, my lady?” Warwick asked.
Shoulders tightening, hands clutching beneath their folded position in front of you, you looked at him and then nodded.
“He…he may…”
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dodgerkedavra · 2 months
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Word Request: excited/excitement
<3
MMMM this is a good one!!
First, one from In the Presence of My Enemy:
“Draco. Wake up.” Harry’s hand flexes against Draco’s ribs, his fingertips tickling. Draco pins Harry’s hand with his arm and squints toward the windows. It’s not even bloody dawn. “No.” Draco turns over, dragging Harry along with him so that Harry’s folded against his back instead of his side. “Yes.” Harry climbs over him, and Draco experiences the very peak of excitement, followed by the valley of disappointment when Harry’s feet hit the floor. Three days ago, when Harry woke up in the parlour, he’d been angry. Draco thought he was angry until he saw the fear in his eyes. Harry has refused to eat with the others since then. He’s all but barricaded them into their bedroom. The only people he allows in are Draco’s mother and Bibsy. Draco hasn’t asked Harry why, but he thinks his mother is allowed because she lied to the Dark Lord for him. Granger and Weasley told the truth to Harry, and it scared him. Harry hasn’t smiled, other than a few tight-lipped imitations, since that day.  He turns his face resolutely into the pillow while Harry pads around nearby. Soft thumps say he’s levitating clothes into his hands and getting dressed. Draco would prefer that Harry not get dressed. In fact, he would prefer that he got completely undressed and came back to bed with no intention of sleeping, but the attempted bond-breaking in the parlour was an ordeal. It’s the most unfortunate coincidence that it happened so soon after they talked about shagging. Fucking. That’s what Draco had called it, and that’s what he’d meant. That’s what he still means. Fucking in all its many forms. With Harry. His heart ticks up a bit. Before it’s too late. An arm slides over him. Yes. He’ll get back into bed now.  Then Harry’s other arm slides under him, and Draco is being dragged bodily out of the bed. “Harry!” He pushes at Harry’s hands in a way that seems half-hearted even to Draco, then narrows his eyes and glares at him. “It’s too early.” A smile—a real one—flashes over Harry’s face, and then he tilts his chin down a bit, makes his eyes huge. “Please? For me?”
And the old standby Now I Know In Part :)
Harry’s mind is a wash of silver magic and champagne bubbles and I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you. Draco’s done something to his lungs. He can’t catch his breath, but it’s not panic at all. It’s sheer, unadulterated excitement. In that haze, it occurs to Harry that Draco might actually kiss him forever. It wouldn’t be so bad to die in the bathtub, still kissing Draco Malfoy. But Draco’s arms are around him and his hard body is pressed against Harry’s and there is a bed very nearby, and Harry wants Draco to fuck him in that bed more than he’s ever wanted anything. It takes several tries to pull away from the kiss, mostly because Harry doesn’t want to stop. “You—the bath. You wanted to finish washing me.” “Oh, that’s right,” Draco says, as if he’s forgotten about the whole thing. “Turn around, then.” Harry kisses him again instead.
And finally, an "excitement" from the VERY deep cut fic From The Day We Met, I Loved You:
Harry desperately wanted to know what was in the little advent calendar, and he desperately didn’t want to go to his office. He woke up early on Christmas Eve and couldn’t go back to sleep. The thought of that box on his desk, and the tree, tugged at him. What if it was all gone after the holiday? He should’ve taken it, but it hadn’t seemed right. Not after it had been there all month. And…he didn’t want it to end. As long as he didn’t go, the last day was still ahead of him. He could put off opening it indefinitely, which seemed like the best idea. That way, he’d keep a piece of the excitement for… For as long as he could. It had been so good, that silly thing. He’d loved every minute of it. Even the parts that made him cry, bloody hell. He made it past noon, then two, then three. The sky was fading in the winter afternoon by the time Harry finally broke. “Accio coat.” He pointed his wand in the direction of the coat rack and put too much power behind it. The whole thing fell over, but the coat flew right into his hands. What had he been thinking, waiting all day? He had to get there now. At least to retrieve the box. It shouldn’t sit alone at his desk over the holiday break, all his ornaments in the dark. Harry righted the coat rack, shrugged into his coat, and threw open his front door, only to find Draco standing there. Draco, tall and perfect in a dark overcoat, the advent calendar box in the crook of his elbow, the tree in his hand.
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eveningstruggle · 4 months
Text
my writing year in review: 2023
thank you @oknowkiss for tagging me!!
I really thought I posted a lot more to ao3 in 2023 than I did, lol.
MARCH
hypothetically, yes / dramione / 11.8k / rated E
“Malfoy.” She pushed her frames up higher on her face. “I’ve objectively analyzed the situation—“ “What situation?” “Our situation, and—“ “What is our situation?” “The state of our relationship.” “Which is what, exactly?” “—and I’ve determined that you and I should date.” OR: Hermione uses science to convince Draco Malfoy to date her. He's not interested.
JUNE
Good Kisser / dramione / 843 words (lol) / rated T
Hermione kisses Draco to prove a point.
Then I posted 3 short little fics I shared last year on twitter for friends' birthdays. Even though I didn't write them this year, I'm including them because otherwise this list is really short lmao.
AUGUST
Practicum / 1.2k / rated M
"Why did you ask him to obliviate you?” “I…don’t remember. But the point is, he did it, and he mis-fired. And now I’ve lost a large body of valuable knowledge I spent years acquiring through countless hours of intensive study.” Hermione is intrigued. “What did you lose?” Malfoy hesitates, a faint flush staining his cheeks. “Sex.” She raises her eyebrows. “You forgot—sex?” OR: Draco needs a teacher.
SEPTEMBER
Romancing the Receptionist / 1.7k / rated T
Only after she escaped into the conference room and felt her shoulders drop did she realize her entire body was bracing for a confrontation. The next week, it was the same: sad eyes, a nod, tense shoulders, a flock of mischievous memos. Malfoy wasn’t gearing up for a fight. He was just trying to get through his days without a paper cut. OR: Draco has an in with Hermione’s favorite novelist.
Returning the Favor / 1.4k / rated T
“Malfoy. Will you please do me the very great honor of taking my slapginity?” “If I do, will you stop saying slapginity?” “I solemnly swear I’ll never say it again.” He heaved a sigh. “Fine. Stand up.” He stretched his arms in front of him and cracked his knuckles. “Where do you want it?” “My face.” She pointed at her cheek. His eyes widened briefly. “Fuck. Are you sure?” “Give it to me, Malfoy. And don’t be gentle,” she said, full of drunken bravado. He smirked. “I’m never gentle.” He raised his hand. OR: Hermione asks Malfoy to try something new.
Wild Sings the Bird / 27.5k (WIP) / rated M
Birding is for • Weirdos • Septuagenarians • Hermione Granger (not anymore) • … • Draco Malfoy?? Hermione is fine. Really. She’s very busy these days, cancelling her wedding and avoiding her well-meaning but overbearing friends. Unfortunately, her friends have given her an ultimatum of sorts: teach her hobby-hopping yet accident-prone enemy, Draco Malfoy, about birdwatching, or suffer the wrath of constant friend support and supervision. What does it say about her life that birding with Malfoy is the better option?
(This is my personal pride and joy, my beloved. I posted 4 chapters this year and have 18-20ish to go.)
DECEMBER
Not What It Looks Like / 5k / rated M / for dhr advent 2023
A hot, panicky hurt begins to throb inside her chest. This doesn’t make sense. Is it some type of horribly misguided practical joke? Revenge for shutting him down a few months ago? Or—is it a parting gift? A “so long and thanks for the memories, now I’m off to fuck someone else?” ”What—” Her voice croaks. She clears her throat and tries again. “What the fuck is this, Malfoy?” Confusion creases his forehead. “They’re photos of you.” She’s five seconds from bolting back through the Floo. “I can see that. Why have you given me two dozen terrible photos of myself for Christmas?” Or: Draco gives Hermione a Christmas gift.
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alex-a-fans · 5 months
Text
BTTF Year-End Tag Game!
AAA THANK YOU @cheriboms AND @bttf-dork FOR TAGGING ME!!
This year:
How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?
Too many times to count...
Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!
Yes! BTTF Playmobil advent calendar and an off-brand Funko pop Doc!
How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?
Pepsi free? None. Normal Pepsi on the other hand.... Over 50 cans for sure.
What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?
There were so many good ones, but if I had to choose... I choose 3!
Oh, How the World has Changed by @itsthemorph I just love the idea of Clara in 1985, even if it's only one chapter, I am sure the other parts will be great :)
June of Doom: let the Suffering Begin by @unknooooow. Now these ones are dark. They have become my Roman Empire, so I think about it once every few days. But again, I love angst, especially realistic. :)
Double Visions by @daryfromthefuture. While there were many good ones this one stuck out due to it having the talk of Citizen Brown (the not-so-silly doc). And it's also very touching and captures the friendship spirit greatly!
A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)
AGAIN MANY GOOD ONES.
this one by @future-boi LITTLE MARTY LITTLE MARTY
this one by @maxintime Cause Browns my beloved <3
this one by @bttf-dork (do u have any idea how long it took for me to find it, I thought I imagined it) THE COLORS, THE SHAPES AAA.
This one by @cheriboms The silly, the goofy, the little Baby Emmett (I WILL EAT THE FANART)
Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?
My time to shine :) /j
I am especially proud of June of Doom chapter 11 (Better known as Doc Has a Stroke literally). It took me two months to write, and it is still the longest one chapter I ever wrote (3k words). Also! I am afraid of hospitals and blood, so I have no idea how I wrote it. Also believe it or not, it was inspired by the animated series...
One more writing project I am proud of is Alteration. It is not because of how much I wrote, but how much I am still planning, and how many Ideas I have for it. I have every single detail planned :)
With art it's a bit more tricky. Since I am not THAT proud of any of them, but BTTF 2 end scene redraw is still one of my favs :)
How many times were you late for school this year?
At least three times, due to reasons outside of my control. But I hate being late.
Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?
My Favourite Martian (1999) Where Lloyd plays an Alien. I watched it because of my silly alien doc au. And I had an amazing angst idea out of it (I wrote it for June of Doom)
That is about it...
Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?
In the car. My parents are tired of me ranting about BTTF so Imagine me (not a singer) scream-singing Back In Time. :DDD
How many times did you fall down this year?
Honestly, either I didn't. Or I did too many times to count. Cause I don't remember
Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!
No...
How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?
Not many, maybe once.
If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?
This one is the toughest.
It will either be "I repeat, Verne, this is a fool's errand." "Does that mean you're coming?" I always tagged along when I knew my friend was making a dumb decision.
Or “Why do we have to cut these things so damn close?”
⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?
To the dance, I even went as Marty McFly. (Even if it was 80' themed I did not win, they did not get the joke :(
Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?
More art. Even more angsty fanfiction :)
I am tagging @unknooooow and I believe everyone else has been tagged. Maybe @jayisnotdrawing @bri-to-the-future @brinkle-brackle and @bentothefuturee @pine-killer55
Game by: @mjf-af
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hazzabeeforlou · 6 months
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Dear long suffering fandom friends: I am WRITING A CHRISTMAS FIC! And, everything willing, will be finished before the 25th for your holiday reading pleasure. I’ve done this a bit in the past, but I’d like to start a daily advent calendar of fic snippets, both to keep myself on track and to hopefully build a little excitement since I haven’t posted in SO long. So. Without further ado, the first (and probably longest I’ll post) snippet of “Santa, Baby.”
“Sophia is due in what, two and a half months? God I’m so hoping she’s an Aquarius and doesn’t leak over to Pisces, you know? Well of course you know since you ARE one. I just can’t handle water.” 
“Too bad there’s not a sign in wine,” Harry muttered again, but Nick only heard the wine part.
“Yes! Actually, I brought us a little rose, just to kick off Christmas on the right foot. I’ll pour, you keep on with your, um,” Nick motioned at their surroundings, “Decorating.” 
Harry did as he was told, more for the burning sensation of electricity in his palm than anything else, but by the time Nick came back he’d gotten a good fourth of the way around the large living room window.
“So! Any news from Rainbow Baby?” Nick asked, like he had asked for the past year and a half, even as he and Zayn had found a surrogate, paid the enormous fee for invitro and an egg donor, and spread their journey to becoming dads all over social media like it was their own singular dream and no one else’s. Least of all their best friend’s. 
“No.” It was a flat answer. The aching disappointment had faded with time. Rainbow Baby was a non-profit LGBTQIA organization devoted to ‘providing every person with the dignity of reproductive human rights,’ and as such the waiting list to be considered for their services was long. Harry even had an advantage with his sister willing to be an egg donor and surrogate for him, but the need for a sperm donor and all the technology that came with that would still be far too expensive for him to consider on his own, with his small 9-5 job, living in a shoebox in New York City. 
“Aww hun. It’ll happen soon, I promise. How could they turn you down? You’ve even got the cancer thing in your favor. Like,” Nick waved their wine at the air, “That’s a certain make a wish right there.” 
“Unfortunately,” Harry snatched one glass of wine from Nick’s oblivious hands, “I don’t have the advantage of dying to hurry things along, remember? The cancer didn’t go past my balls.” 
“Right.” Nick seemingly couldn’t help looking down at Harry’s crotch.  
“You want to hand me the next bundle and make yourself useful?” Harry had run out of lights. 
“Of course.” Nick had the good grace to look relieved at the escape afforded him. He’d never been one to enjoy the uncomfortable consequences of his own mouth. 
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sagesolsticewrites · 1 year
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Can you please write prompts 27 and 29 of the Christmas one with Austin please :)
Thank you so much for the request darling!
27.) “Did you get us matching pyjamas?”
29.) “It’s bold of you to assume I haven’t eaten my entire advent calendar.”
I did decide to make this part of what I’m now calling the Daisy universe, I hope that’s okay! I really didn’t expect to fall completely in love with this fictional baby but here we are ig ☺️💕 (Oops, this one got kinda long, sorry!)
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You step inside your house with a grin, quickly kicking off your snow-covered boots and shedding your jacket before grabbing your shopping bags and joining your family in the living room.
As you turn out of the foyer, you’re greeted with a sight you’ll never tire of: Austin cuddling with Daisy on the couch, one of her favorite board books in hand. You pause as you take in the scene, Austin reading quietly out loud to her, encouraging her to feel all the fun textures in the book and turn the cardboard pages herself.
Daisy seems to notice your movement out of the corner of your eye, though, and her head snaps up (well, as fast as an 11-month-old’s head can snap up) and she beams as she recognizes you.
“Ma!” she babbles, book entirely forgotten as she makes grabby hands for you.
You laugh as you make you way towards her. “Hi sweetie!” You quickly drop your shopping bags, pressing a quick kiss to Austin’s lips and mumbling a quick hello before scooping her out of Austin’s lap into your arms. “Oh I missed you so much! Were you good for Daddy while I was out?”
Your daughter nods, and begins babbling excitedly, presumably telling you about her day. You catch sounds like tee and boo, and nod along as if you understood her perfectly. “Yes, I saw you were reading your book! And was Daddy showing you the Christmas tree?”
You glance at Austin for confirmation, and he nods as he gets up from the couch, grabbing your shopping bags from the floor and setting them on the coffee table. “Yeah, we had lots of fun today, didn’t we, Daisy?” He reaches to tickle her briefly, eliciting a series of high-pitched giggles, before turning his attention to you, “She loves the lights on the tree, by the way.” He nods over towards the large evergreen absolutely dripping with ornaments in the corner. “You know the setting where they change colors? She stared at those for like twenty minutes straight.”
“Oh, is that so? Then she’s going to love what I found at the mall today.” You nod towards the shopping bags on the table as you plop down on the couch, setting Daisy carefully in your lap, and pull one of the bags towards you.
“These are for all of us, actually,” you say as you extract three very similar looking clothing sets, in varying sizes. You hand the largest one to Austin, keeping the midsize one for yourself, and begin to unwrap the tiniest one for your daughter.
Austin manages to get his set out of the cardboard they’re wrapped around while you’re busy showing Daisy the adorable onesie decorated with a Christmas light print, and glances carefully between them. He tries to check yours out, too, but it’s hard to see if it’s the same pattern as it’s still in the packaging. Still, knowing you…
“You got us matching pajamas?” He laughs, holding the long-sleeve tee up to his chest, decorated with the same Christmas light print as Daisy’s.
You nod excitedly, “Yes! I thought it’d be perfect for our Christmas card this year. What do you think?”
“I love it, sweetheart,” Austin grins, folding them carefully back up.
Daisy, who had been fidgeting trying to get your attention, begins to whine and you notice the time. “Oh, I’m sorry baby girl, you’re hungry aren’t you?”
You scoop her up and gently deposit her in her high chair at the kitchen table. “Aus, could you make her formula while I get her snack?” You ask, grabbing a small shallow plastic bowl and some Cheerios, only to notice that he’s already doing it. You shoot him a soft smile, pausing on your way back to your daughter to press a quick kiss to his cheek in thanks.
At 11 months old, Daisy is fairly good with finger foods, all things considered. You’re really just there to give her her formula and make sure a minimal amount of Cheerios end up on the floor.
Austin, however, gestures to the advent calendars sitting on the counter. “I think we’ve missed a few days on these, we should get caught up.”
“It’s bold of you to assume I haven’t eaten my entire advent calendar.” You joke as he brings them over to the table, and the two of you spend lunch comparing the different chocolates you’ve gotten, accompanied by the sounds of your daughter’s babbling.
Send me drabble prompts!
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isthisselfcare · 1 year
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Please forgive my absence, I log into tumblr once every 4 business months
I have answered some asks but not all, for which I apologise 
hello! rereading your work for the second time, proud of myself for translating less words than before (this british english's got hands and they kick me a lot). i keep beating myself about the question: WHAT is the clue about the mole in chapter 1? you said it was paltry, i didn't believe you, now i'm trying to make my eyes fall out over finding said clue. spare me.
It was the line about Shacklebolt’s assistant, she was grouchy about Draco for no discernable (at the time) reason: ‘Draco scheduled a visit with the Minister of Magic later that week. He sauntered past the Minister’s sour-faced assistant on the designated day, wondering who had pissed in her Pixie Puffs.’
She’s the one who would’ve heard Hermione discussing her findings with Shacklebolt early on, and subsequently learned that this Notorious Auror was going to protect her. That’s the entire not-even-clue. Rubbish, isn’t it?
Hi, since you like Jerome K Jerome, I was wondering if you've read "Two and a half men in a boat" by Nigel Williams? He basically recreated the boat trip on Thames with his friends like in Jerome's book. Nowhere near as good as the original, but it's pretty funny! He emulates Jerome's wit quite well.
I have not, but will add this to my reading list! 
Is Hermione bi in your fic?
I am congenitally unable to write cishet women, so, yes, or pan, possibly. Didn’t get into her head enough to know 
hey girlie. what does "cutty-uppy" means? i can't find the definition anywhere
Sorry. That was a made up word, referring to the sort of people who cut people up, those terrible Muggle surgeons  
England vs France on Saturday, who are you going for?
Like Lizzie Bennet, from this day on I must be a stranger to one of my parents. 
I have decided to forgo both and support Morocco
do you mind if your tags are used on other fics? i think your tags on DMATMOOBIL are a creative writing piece in their own right (they make me laugh sm) so I was a bit disturbed to find fics that copy them verbatim with no credit.
I don’t mind at all, AO3 tags take on their own self-referential, memeish life and I am happy to add mine to the ecosystem. My own tags on Mortifying include the ‘no X we die like men’ and ‘what is X if not Y persevering’ meme-phrases
do you see yourself writing more dramione in the future?
I haven’t any plans to do so at present, sorry!
Continuing an investigation to see if you are actually Hermione, can you do a taraskvana?
Hah. No. I've got a dodgy knee, I can hardly even sit cross-legged!
She's a 10 but she only has 1 story posted
It’s me!
Dont know If somebody has already asked you this - would it be okay to print Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love?
Printing for your personal use is fine
I noticed something about the Beltane chapter: "hippocampus" is a part of our brain's limbic system and one of its functions is memory formation, specifically creation  and consolidation thereof, so I thought it was very symbolic that Hermione and Draco were racing creatures  with the same name. Cause I feel like that chapter is a turning point in their relationship - Hermione stops seeing him as a barely tolerable pureblood ass. It's around that point that they really do start kind of liking each other  and start - if you will - forming new memories together! I know I'm just overthinking things, but I love dmatmoobil so much I'm constantly on the lookout for hidden meanings and symbolism.
There are a lot of easter eggs in the fic, but with this one, you have given me far too much credit. Thank you for sharing it! 
Will you be participating in the DHr advent?
Hiya, no, I had to decline as I hadn’t any writing time this autumn, honoured to have been invited, however, and eager to read the works!
Would you ever write a Tomione or a Sevmione?
I never say never, but frankly the possibility is remote. So sorry
Pain au chocolat ou chocolatine?
Scandaleux comme question, ça… pain au chocolat ! 
Re the “Marathon of chaos” on your Instagram. It’s been such a ride to not only follow your fanfic (I was an early adopter, which I know makes me sound like a hipster snob, and maybe I am one) but also watch it go from like 100 kudos to one of the top fics in the fandom. I’m here for your marathon and really grateful for all the work you put into MOBIL. Now for the question�� when can we expect your next book? I don’t care if it’s Dramione, any other pairing, or any other fandom, or original fic, I WILL read it! Please continue to hit us with chaos!!!!
Thank you for your kind words! 
I haven’t got an answer on the timeline for the next piece, or whether I will link it with this online identity, but I am toying with the idea of writing it entirely in comic sans
Your Hermione was my gay awakening
If this is serious, I hope you find your own Hermione one day!
Can we please be friends? You sound like you would make a great one
Unfortunately, I am a rubbish friend who never responds to texts and cancels plans at every opportunity, you don’t want to know me 
I was so happy to see Uzbekistan mention in your story. That had never happened before. Thank you for mentioning my country 😻
You are welcome! Uzbekistan is honestly one of the most breath-taking countries I’ve ever visited – monuments that dwarf the Taj Mahal – unearthing the grand and bloody history of the Silk Road – stepping upon the same sands that the great Khans thundered across – seeing the ruins of the caravanserai – sheer magic! To say nothing of the hospitality of the people. I had far too much plov and quickly discovered my limit for vodka
You are my favorite cryptid
Cheeky. Thank you
And, finally, thank you to the person who sent me this article on a sacred relic that was stolen from an abbey and then returned ‘in an unceremonious cardboard box’! Hormone and Crotch are still at large
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spaceorphan18 · 1 year
Text
Scenes from December (10/24)
Klaine Advent Day Ten : Overt
***
December, 2018
Kurt sat at the end of his couch, curled to the side, continuing his read through Michelle Obama’s autobiography.  Despite having three layers of clothing and a blanket covering his lap, he was still cold.  Winter had barely set in, and still the apartment never truly felt warm enough.  One part of living on a tight budget meant sacrifices had to be made Blaine had said, much to his irritation the previous year when they set their finances for the foreseeable future..  Well - Kurt would get the laugh when summer came around, and he could use the same line when Blaine was begging for air conditioning.  
Not fully focusing on his book, Kurt reached for the tea sitting on the end table.  It, too, had become lukewarm, and Kurt lamented the fact that he was in such a comfortable position.  If only it would warm itself without him having to move.  
On the other side of the couch was Blaine, sitting on the edge, hunched over the coffee table as he scribbled things in his day planner.  Blaine remained deep in thought, unaware that Kurt snuck one of his feet out and underneath his thigh.  Kurt’s intention was to convince Blaine to get him more tea.  However, the warmth radiating from Blaine’s leg kept his foot snuggly there.  It was irritating, really, that Blaine could sit there in just his thin pajama bottoms and a sleeveless-t and be perfectly unaware of the chill hanging in the air.  
At least he was so damn cute.  
A good thing, too, because he remained completely unaware of Kurt’s toes wiggling underneath his leg.  Kurt knew he should be more overt when getting Blaine’s attention.  When Blaine’s mind was fixated on something, it sometimes took a brick wall to the face to distract him. 
But Blaine being deep in thought gave Kurt a moment to look at him.  Really look at him.  The deep beauty of concentration in his face. The way the muscles in his arms moved as he wrote.  The way his hair curled at the nape of his neck.  It was easy to forget sometimes, now that they had been together for nearly a decade, amidst the routine of everyday life, that Blaine had once been such an object of desire.  Blaine didn’t take his breath away like he did when he was a teenager.  But that flush of attraction - the pull of lust had been replaced by something deeper - something heavier in his heart.  The warmth of a settled love, the fondness of something familiar and safe, the reassurance that, ah yes, this person is my person.   
Something stirred in Kurt just then.  An answer to a question he had been pondering for a while.  The answer that seemed all too clear now.  
Unaware, Blaine turned to him, with his dark eyelashes and unsuspecting look of determination.  “So, I think I have this figured out.  If we get the plane tickets now - we can spend Christmas with your dad.  And then be at my parents’ for New Year’s Eve.  Cooper’s bringing the kids, so Mom insisted we make it out there this year.  Yes - that does mean spending a week in Ohio, but I think it’ll have its benefits.  We can still schedule in our month late anniversary dinner with Brittany and Santana.  And, it will free us from having to go to Rachel’s obnoxious holiday party where we’re subjected to all of the weirdo friends she’s made in this production.  Plus, we’ll be back in time to see the opening of the theater - and still make Artie’s new film debut.  What do you think?” 
Kurt gave him a serious look.  “I want to make a baby with you.” 
Blaine’s brow wrinkled in confusion.   He looked back down at his planner, and promptly turned the page.  “Well, I’m free on January sixth.”  
Kurt gave him a kick, as he burst out laughing.  “C’mere, I’m cold.”  
“You’re always cold,” Blaine said.  It didn’t stop Blaine from moving down the couch, removing the blanket from Kurt’s lap so he could snuggle into Kurt’s side, and wrapped them both up in the blanket again.  “Are you sure?” Kurt let his book fall to the floor, as Blaine grabbed one of his hands.  “I mean - we’ve talked about this.  If it’s not in the cards, I’ve accepted that.” 
“I know,” Kurt said, looking at their entwined hands.  It’s not like he hadn’t given it a great deal of thought.  “I also know that I love you and, maybe this is silly, but I’m ready to expand that love.  Grow a little family out of it.” 
Blaine let out a little chuckle.  “Okay, but are you sure you don’t want me to get you a plant first?  Just as a test run.” 
“Shut up and kiss me, we’re doing this.”   
Blaine’s eyes twinkled. “If you say so.  But don’t get too upset when I don’t get you pregnant tonight.” 
“Weirdo.” 
“Love you, too, Kurt.”
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nobedofroses · 1 year
Text
December 4
pairing: Marcus Moreno x reader
warnings: fluff city with a tiny bit of spice at the end, no actual smut tho
words: 1k
a/n: new family! using one of the bonus pics because it was perfect for them!
Last, Full List, Next
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🏔🏔🏔
This year was your first Christmas as Missy’s stepmom, and you wanted to make sure that all three of you (including Marcus) felt good about it. This was possibly an impossible task, but you were an ambitious person, and you knew it didn’t have to be perfect to be great. 
An idea that you had to make the entire holiday season fun was to start celebrating in little ways throughout the whole month. And since you and Missy shared a love of comfy, cozy things, you decided to create an advent calendar for all three of you (Marcus also loved comfy, cozy things he just never thought to get them for himself) that would start your Christmas season off right. 
The first gift was a mug painting kit, so that each of you would have a personalized mug for all your hot drinks that season. Missy had the idea that you should make them for each other, so she made yours, you made Marcus’ and Marcus made hers. You might have gotten a little misty that night when you saw all the love and care Missy so obviously put into painting yours. 
The next day included everything needed to make gourmet hot chocolate, to have in your mugs, of course. And there was enough for supplies so that you could have it every day if you wanted. Marcus asked how much all the fancy chocolate had cost and you stuck a piece of one of the chocolate bars in his mouth to quiet him, which Missy agreed was absolutely the right thing to do. 
Day three were matching fleece blankets with your initials embroidered in the corners. You used them to watch some of the old claymation Christmas shows to stay warm on the couch. Missy insisted that you sat in the middle between her and Marcus. This was because, “Dad always falls asleep and snores super loud, right in my ear. He’s your husband now, so you should get used to that.” 
Today was the fourth day and the start of a series of connected gifts. You had gotten full matching pajama sets for the three of you, but had to break them up into three days because towards the end of the month you had started running out of ideas. Starting from the bottom, today’s gifts were slippers, and you just knew that Missy would love them.
And you were right, “Oh. My. Gosh. Look at them! They’re little Rudolphs, that is so cute!” 
She held them up for Marcus to see and he looked on happily, “Oh yeah, their red noses.” 
You chuckled at his statement of the obvious and then pulled yours out of the paper gift bag you had been storing your part of the gifts. Marcus and Missy got theirs fully wrapped, but it was a lot of effort to put in for something that you already knew what it was. 
When Missy saw that yours were the same, she exclaimed, “Matching! Oh my gosh, perfect!” 
“Yes, perfect for my favorite girls. Now I’ll open mine and see what kind of slippers my amazing wife got me—”
“Dad’s are matching too! We’ll have a whole family of Rudolphs!” Missy grinned, already slipping hers on. 
Marcus looked at you with slight dismay, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought there was only one Rudolph in the story.” 
You laughed and kissed his cheek, “You’re wrong.” 
“C’mon Dad, put yours on so we can take a picture!” Missy hurried her father along, which was good because it distracted him from the fact that he was putting reindeer slippers on to be immortalized by her Instagram post. 
Missy deftly arranged the three of you so all of the slippers were visible and snapped the picture. Then she flipped her phone’s camera around and took a group selfie with your two smiling faces and Marcus’ playfully grumpy one. 
Thirty seconds later, you got the notification that @peacelovemissy had tagged you in a post. The caption read “don’t let @heroicsmorenodad’s face fool you, he loved the slippers as much as I did.” Since you were on her profile, you looked at her other posts and realized that she had been posting what she had gotten every day and either forgetting to tag you or not doing it because all of the other pictures had just had the items. It flooded your heart with warmth to know that she really was enjoying this at least half as much as you were. 
Marcus saw your watery eyes and, while Missy was busy replying to some friends’ comments that had already appeared, kissed your forehead and whispered to you, “Don’t cry again, you’ll freak her out.” 
That made you laugh and thankfully got rid of your tears. 
Soon, dinner was ready and the three of you went about your night, watching another Christmas movie. This time it was the animated Grinch, as per Marcus’ request. 
In bed that night, after some goings-on, Marcus was holding you close and telling you how thankful he was to have someone who loved Missy as much as he did. 
“You are an incredible mother, step or otherwise, and you are making her feel so loved and special by doing this,” Marcus said softly, pausing for a quick kiss. “But don’t burn yourself out with all of this.” 
You smiled, “You’re a bit too late telling me that, babe. It’s all already picked out and bought. I wouldn’t say I’m burnt out. Except for maybe wrapping them, that could do me in if I don’t give myself enough time.” 
“Then let me do it, I don’t need to be surprised everyday,” he told you and you hesitated because you wanted it to be fun for him too. “I mean it, if you don’t let me help out, I’ll tell you what I got you for Christmas.” 
You gasped loudly, he knew how much you loved surprises and hated spoilers, “You wouldn’t dare.” 
“I would,” and he looked so solemn that you believed him. “Do we have a deal?” 
You huffed, even though he was actually going to take a good deal of annoyance and stress over perfect wrapping off your hands, “Fine. You can wrap them. On one condition.” 
Marcus rolled his eyes fondly, “What’s that?” 
Smiling cheekily, you moved from his arms and started kissing his bare chest and then lower down, letting him guess where you were headed, “That you let me say thank you.”
🏔🏔🏔
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dramioneasks · 4 months
Text
HP FESTS: dhr_advent (part 5)
dhr_advent 2023:
Teach Me How To Fall by sodamnrad - M, one-shot - raco forces offers to teach Hermione how to play Quidditch for the Ministry's holiday game.
Keep It Like a Secret by PacificRimbaud - M, one-shot - He regards her with interest, cool as the ice in his G&T. “What do you want?” On close inspection, he's a bit deadly. It's the combined power of self-regard, an open ear, and a cunningly tailored suit. Hermione wants— “An expiration date would be nice.” She suctions up the watery dregs and signals for more. “Let’s say I want . . . a year. Exactly one year of monogamy without the possibility of further commitment."
In Want of a Wife by ambpersand - E, one-shot - Through a few forced breaths, Hermione manages to settle her nausea well enough to slide out of bed, squinting at the bright morning light. The braid of ribbons follows her left hand as she pulls the curtains closed, a giant knot of silver and gold that won’t shake free. While she works on unwinding them from her hand and arm, she checks the papers, finding the signatures she hoped they would be too drunk to remember to complete. Unfortunately not. There they sit, sloppy and side by side. Her’s a little cramped and rushed, his a little too large and loopy. Her lungs squeeze tight. They actually did it. At some point between the first glass of nettle wine and the last bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy, it must have stopped being a joke. She’s still wearing her dress from the night before, which fits the messy carnage that surrounds her. It’s wrinkled and a bit twisted around her waist, but at least it’s not tossed on the floor with the rest of her marriage licence. The only thing missing is her apparent husband.
sweet dreams of holly and ribbon by LovesBitca8 - E, one-shot - The war against the Dark Lord continues on, but Hermione is stuck at Grimmauld Place with the world's most annoying house guest.
From the Journal of Hermione Granger by Catmint and Thyme (Languish_Locked_in_L) - M, one-shot - Only one bed, rainforest edition. In which Hermione Granger goes on an expedition to Costa Rica in search of a magical (probably mythical) poinsettia with her insufferable colleague, Draco Malfoy, who she can't stop drawing. (It's not creepy, he just has good bone structure.)
Not What It Looks Like by eveningstruggle - M, one-shot - A hot, panicky hurt begins to throb inside her chest. This doesn’t make sense. Is it some type of horribly misguided practical joke? Revenge for shutting him down a few months ago? Or—is it a parting gift? A “so long and thanks for the memories, now I’m off to fuck someone else?” ”What—” Her voice croaks. She clears her throat and tries again. “What the fuck is this, Malfoy?” Confusion creases his forehead. “They’re photos of you.” She’s five seconds from bolting back through the Floo. “I can see that. Why have you given me two dozen terrible photos of myself for Christmas?” Or: Draco gives Hermione a Christmas gift.
Sounds Worth It by RoseHarperMaxwell - T, one-shot - The first time Draco seeks her out at the hospital is a crisp October day, which happens to be the six-month anniversary of her divorce. “Hello,” says Hermione, glancing up from her paperwork. “Draco. Can I…help you?” He’s well put together, dropping gracefully into the chair across from her desk without invitation. “Yes. I’m in need of medical attention.” “I see.” Hermione does not, in fact, see. This is quite unorthodox. There’s a triage procedure and rarely does it result in patients coming to her office. “Tell me more.” Five times Draco fakes an ailment as an excuse to visit Hermione, and one time he doesn't. D/Hr Advent 2023 🎄
Penguins, Pebbles, and Other Reasons to Pursue Unemployment by mightbewriting - T, one-shot - “Is that…shit? On my desk?” Granger doesn’t so much as look up from her mountain of teetering parchments at Draco’s question. Her hair: frazzled. Her frown: ominous. The energy in their shared office: frantic. “Penguin shit,” she says. “Specifically, it’s penguin shit.” [In which a penguin-themed mishap at the Ministry nearly costs Draco his sanity.]
O' Little Town Of Balsam Grove by inadaze22 - M, one-shot - Chaos comes to the town of Balsam Grove and wrecks Draco's plans for the perfect proposal.
Most Sincerely Yours by morriganmercy - T, one-shot - Harry has been certain for months that Malfoy is up to something. When Hermione finds a seemingly out-of-character Christmas card, she can’t help but agree.
Chaperone Chaos, Mistletoe Madness: A Yule Ball Tale by scullymurphy - M, one-shot - Professors Malfoy and Granger hate each other. They're also chaperoning the Yule Ball, where Erotogenic Mistletoe makes a timely appearance.
The Path Carefully Tread by HeyJude19 - T, one-shot - The nature of families could shift; shaped by time, trauma, arguments, and reconciliations. She saw how Draco warred with that now, how he battled his instinctual, youthful desire to please his father with his resolve to sever ties with someone who had hurt him gravely.
A Gentleman's Guide to Courtship and Caregiving by ChaosAndCrumpets - T, one-shot - An accident involving a quidditch bat has Draco Malfoy wishing tragic and irreversible misfortune on Blaise Zabini. But he'll leave St Mungo's with far more than just a healed nose; a newly acquired Godmother, an affinity for mince pies, and an inconvenient attraction to a certain Healer, to name just three.
Seasons of Liberation by Misdemeanor1331 - E, one-shot - Unmoored after the murder of his parents, Draco seeks stability in the Muggle world. The woman he pays to anchor him has an agenda all her own.
This fest is ongoing.
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clarktooncrossing · 5 months
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Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | From All Of Us to All Of You
Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!
Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.
Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.
On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...
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Being a Disney fan today is hard. The parks have been ravaged, their films flop on arrival, their continued downplaying of animation is annoying, and don’t even get me started on how they handled this year’s Writer / Actor Strike. Not to say there’s no diamonds hidden in the rough every now and again, but for the most part the buzzards running the Mouse House believe in profits not pixie dust. Worse, they have forgotten the most crucial ingredient to any creative undertaking: risk. Go big or go home, make a splash or stay dry, spending money makes money. Perhaps no one knew this better than Walt Disney himself. The man mortgaged his home to finance Snow White, nearly drove his company to bankruptcy to build Disneyland, and embraced television when the rest of Hollywood cowered in fear of it. He understood that television could be a powerful marketing tool that could help his brand grow in the long haul. Ironic, innit? Uncle Walt became a beloved figure through the small screen, hosting the Disneyland series and making a brief appearance at the opening from From All Of Us to All Of You. Premiering in 1958, the seasonal special proved so popular that it airs along with a sampling of various shorts to this day in other countries. Including Sweden, home to the rambunctious robotroll SIM-N (Finjix), himself having fond memories of watching it with his family. Being a classic Disney fan myself, I was actually eager to see if the hype the malicious machine was peddling was valid.
A pity it’s not on Disney+! First the Star Wars Holiday special, then Snowed in at the House of Mouse, and now this!? You advertised everything would be on there, Bobby Boi. What gives!? Thankfully where you fail, the Internet succeeds! Let’s just say I found a copy well archived on a specific site. It also had One Hour in Wonderland, Walt’s original Holiday offering from 1950. Sadly it was nothing special, just the Magic Mirror from Snow White showing clips from several projects to Kathryn Beaumont, Bobby Driscoll, Edgar Burgen and his iconic puppet pals. Aside from Walt’s daughters Diane and Sharon making a brief cameo, this trip to Wonderland is only notable for how many times it promotes Coca Cola. Man, is anybody else thirsty for a Sunkist?
Let’s pop a cold one and we can check out From All Of Us together! 
Walt, now the same size as Tinkerbell, welcomes us to the program. He wishes everyone at home a Merry Christmas before  turning things over to the real musical Masters of Ceremony; Jiminy Cricket (Cliff Edwards) and Mickey Mouse. Together on piano the cartoon celebrities sing a rousing rendition of The Little Drummer Boy mixed with Peace on Earth! Or rather Jiminy just shows off his collection of Christmas cards. Each card cues up a segment from a beloved animated feature that’ll already has or will be unnecessarily rebooted in live-action. Which features depend on the version you're watching, this recreation including Bambi, Peter Pan, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, along with two additional short films, Toy Tinkerers and Santa’s Workshop. The former features famous foul Donald Duck (Clarence Nash) comically dueling against Chip and Dale in toy warfare, the latter showing Santa prepping at the Pole for his annual sleigh ride. It also features an unfortunate bit of blackface, something I hope is cut from reruns. At least they didn’t show an entire segment from Song of the South like One Hour did. Remember folks, Disney’s most controversial film was once endorsed by Coca-Cola!
Overall, From All Of Us is decent blend of Holiday warmth and Disney magic, a warm cup of cocoa laced with a pleasant amount of pixie dust. However, I feel like it’s unnecessary in this modern age. Call me crazy, but why watch this clip show when I’ve seen these movies in their entirety via VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, or streaming? For SIM-N, the answer is comforting nostalgia. While I might see it as regifted film scenes with barely any new material, SIM-N sees it as an excuse to get together with his family and watch the moments that made us realize magic was real. Knowing that makes this special a yuletide treasure in my book. Still, if you want some comforting Christmas capers centered around Mickey Mouse, I can do you one better. Or should I say three better?
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renee-writer · 1 year
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Tiny Beautiful Things Chapter 3
AO3
Here is so much better then in the city. This is what she thinks to herself as she sits among the plants. Growing up a nomad taught her to be content wherever she is.  Meeting her ex taught her that not all people are good.
 
Frank Randall seemed to be the perfect man, a professor that impressed her uncle ( Not an easy thing to do), he presented himself as Mr. Right. He turned into Mr. Very Wrong.
 
All was fine, at first. They went to fancy restaurants, art galleries, and plays. He took her to the opera. After a few months, she allowed him to take her virginity.
 
He changed after, becoming controlling, showing less attractive parts of himself. He was bigoted, saying snarky things about her friend, Joe and his wife.
 
It all came to a head one evening when he accused her of sleeping with Joe.
 
“He and his wife are my mates. Have you lost your senses?” She asked him.
 
His response was to hit her. It was the first time in her life anyone had ever hit her. She went to her Uncle Lamb, who threatened, “To thrash the bloody bastard from limb to limb.”
 
She talked him down and rang the police. He was arrested and she decided a change in scenery was needed.
 
A week later, she found the job listing that brought her to Lallybroch.  She smiles at the events that brought her here.
 
A small advent in the local that she almost missed.
 
*Gardener for large estate. Room and board with reasonable salary. Ring Jenny Murray at… Serious inquiries only.*
 
She had called that very day. A week later she is saying goodbye to her Uncle Lamb and is on her way to the Highlands of Scotland.
 
Now, after a month of fresh air and sometimes sunshine, some of the poison from her relationship with Randall is fading. She isn’t waking up with nightmares as often.
 
Yes, Lallybroch is just what she needed.
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