"im An Eldest Daughter" Alright But Are You The Daughter Of An Eldest Daughter. Lets Talk About That

— s.r.m. @belovedbi

[ID: All daughters turn into blood thirsty hounds— after years of licking their own wounds and biting their tongue. /end ID]

Plot Bunnies, Plot Chickens, Etc.

As a lot of people aren’t familiar with plot creatures, I thought I’d shed some light on the members of the mental menagerie…

The Plot Bunny - Story ideas that come bounding in and start multiplying.

The Plot Chicken - They squawk, flap around, and shit everywhere, but when you actually need to do something with them, they scatter.

The Plot Sloth - Takes its sweet goddamned time turning into something useful.

The Plot Mule - When you mash two plots together and get something cool, but you can’t get a sequel out of it to save your life.

The Plot Cat - Lazy little bastards who take up your headspace, scare away all the other plot bunnies, but won’t actually do anything except lay there.

The Plottweiler - Barks loudly and viciously so you can’t ignore it, distracts you from everything else you want to write, but leaves you too paralyzed with fear to actually put words down.

The Plot Squirrel - Cute, distracting, full of nuts, and just TRY to keep up with that train of thought.

The Plot Bedbug - Shows up during the night, chews on you so you can’t sleep, and disappears in the daylight.

The Plot Tick - Burrows in, bleeds you dry, and leaves you with the creepy-crawlies. Mostly preys on horror writers.

The Plotroach - Totally unappealing, but so tenacious they’ll survive anything until you finally give up and write them.

What Plot Creatures have you encountered?

#dramione ficlet #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger

As her charity event draws to a close, Hermione is tired, but pleased. 

The crowd is larger than she’d dared to hope for, and heavily engaged, friends and admirers cheering and whistling with each new announcement. The night has gone smoothly, no hitches or scandals. And with one bachelor left, the rest should be easy.

She smiles to herself from where she stands just off-stage as the inevitable crowd favorite is announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our final lot for tonight...Draco Malfoy!”

He walks onstage with faltering steps, handsome as ever but lacking his usual cock-sure attitude. The man is nervous.

She feels a flash of something. Is it…pity?

They’d come up with a strategy for tonight, and it’d gone almost exactly according to plan.

Almost.

Ginny had won Blaise easily, avoiding any need to share her boyfriend. 

Theo had (dramatically) over-bid on Harry, happy to publicly embarrass his husband for a good cause. Plus, he knew the large sum would be good publicity for his firm.

But then Pansy, meant to protect Draco from misguided witches with delusions of betrothal contracts, had gotten…distracted.

Viktor Krum offering to participate had been a boon for Hermione’s Charity Bachelor Auction. The addition of such a high-profile celebrity brought in significant interest and advanced press coverage, and Hermione had known Viktor would be a good sport about the whole thing. It had been an easy decision with no foreseeable downside.

Until a glassy-eyed Pansy Parkinson had used all the galleons she’d brought to bid on Malfoy to secure a date with the international Quidditch star, leaving the tall, sought-after blonde on stage looking vulnerable and unsure. 

Hermione offers him an encouraging smile. 

He grimaces in return.

It’ll be fine, though. Right?

It has to be.

Her event can’t be the thing that forces him back into marriage dates after years of successful avoidance. Narcissa would be over the moon, of course. But Hermione would feel terrible.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Padma, a mutual friend with a known preference for witches, bids. A platonic date would solve all of their problems.

Her relief is short-lived.

The crowd parts to reveal a determined-looking Astoria Greengrass raising a paddle in response.

Malfoy’s panicked eyes find Hermione’s.

Please, he mouths. Desperate.

Her heart aches for him.

He’s a good friend, has been since eighth year.

He’s also a great backup date for functions, far more attentive than any of her exes. He has impeccable manners, grabbing her drinks and anticipating her needs before she has a chance to ask for anything. And he’s particularly great at subverting awkward conversations.

He’s gone to dozens of stuffy affairs, and he’s never asked for anything in return. 

Until now.

Ron, who’d volunteered to MC when Lav refused to let him participate as a bachelor, calls for final bids.

Hermione sighs.

It’s not smart. Instead of the cause, this will be the story in tomorrow’s Prophet. 

But he’s begging her with those sad, puppy-dog eyes.

Resigned, she steps onto the stage and raises her paddle.

A hush falls over the auditorium, a sudden blanket of near-silence. 

Through the quiet, someone in the crowd actually gasps. Which is ridiculous; their friendship has been well-documented. Hermione suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

Astoria keeps bidding, and so does Hermione. In minutes they’ve promised more than the event had previously earned twice over.

Hermione is going to murder Pansy.

When they hit a landmark sum, Astoria finally backs off, and Hermione is pronounced the winner to a tittering crowd.

She walks on stage, giving Malfoy a perfunctory embrace.

“You’re paying me back,” she whispers.

He returns it, gripping tightly, wrapping her in a warm embrace. A warm, friendly embrace. “Every knut,” he agrees, his voice a low growl. Not gratitude, but something else.

A shiver travels up her spine. Which is silly, of course. This is Draco Malfoy. Her friend.

“We don’t have to go on the date,” she says as they’re engulfed by the din of the applauding crowd. “I know the organizer, she’ll let it slide.” See? It’s funny. One big joke, nothing more.

“Granger.” It sounds like a warning, but he won’t let her pull back. “I’m taking you on the best date of your life.”

He kisses her then, swallowing her confusion, and it’s even better than she remembers.

Before they were friends, there’d been that one kiss that one night that neither of them had talked about after.

The one she thinks of sometimes after a bad day, or a bad date, or a particularly long dry spell.

Blood pounds in her ears as the crowd responds enthusiastically to the new development. Hermione looks around wildly–at Ron, in the announcer’s stand. Out at the crowd. Anywhere but Draco’s intense eyes, trained on her.

From the back of the room, Pansy gives her the kind of encouraging glare only she is capable of.

In fact, all of their friends are watching them, rather expectantly.

She finally meets his gaze, and finds him grinning. “I don’t understand.”

“Parks’s been hot for Krum for ages. She begged me to let her out of our deal,” he says, with a carefully practiced shrug. “Seemed like a good time to try something I’ve wanted for ages, too.”

“...And you just left it up to chance?” she asks, suspiciously.

“Of course not,” he scoffs, leading her from the spotlight as though she’d already agreed to the date. “Who do you think talked Astoria into bidding?”

A Malfoy always gets what he wants.

What are you going to do about it?

"You do realize her birthday is less than a week away now, right?" Draco grit his teeth at Weasley's reminder and nodded. "I'm well aware." "So what are you going to do about it? She hasn't really let anyone celebrate it for the past few years and I think it's time." Ron refused to let the matter go, and Draco couldn't really blame him. Hermione had spent the handful of years following the war like most of them--picking up the scattered pieces of her life. She threw herself into finishing her N.E.W.T.s, then into her apprenticeship, and continued to work herself to exhaustion at her curse breaking job. While she still made time for friends, she afforded almost none for herself, ignoring vacation days and her birthday repeatedly claiming she "had more important things to do." "I'm actually visiting the family vault tomorrow afternoon." Ron Weasley immediately knew what he meant and sat up straight from his slouch, leveling his gaze on Draco. "You'll let me know if you need help with anything?" The man scoffed in response before pausing in thought. "Actually..." "What?" "Pansy showed me some photos that are apparently super popular with muggles or something--proposal pics?" Ron tilted his head in confusion. "I guess you get someone to hide and take pictures of the thing, you know, for the memories." A blush crept up Draco's neck and he looked away. "...are you asking me to be your proposal photographer, Malfoy?" Ron's grin grew as he leaned forward in excitement. Draco coughed and shuffled his feet in a distinctly un-Malfoy manner. "I suppose I am. Maybe Potter can help figure out how it all works and help you." His eyes jerked up to meet Ron's when the redhead punched him in the arm. "Ow! What was that for?" "I had something else in mind for her birthday, but this is 10x better! Who would've thought? Draco Malfoy is a sappy romantic."

If the sun should tumble from the skies     If the sea should suddenly run dry         If you love me, really love me             Let it happen, I won’t care.

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

love them so much🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hate hate hate how when I get angry there is a physical reaction but it's not glowing eyes or growing claws or something it's crying. This feels unfair.

Wow.  These are beautiful!  I wish I had the time to try and replicate <3

Baker Karin Pfeiff Boschek Showcases Her Skills With Before & After Shots Of Her Stunning Pie Crust Designs

Keep reading

Jude and Cardan