#am i using this fic as an opportunity to agree that draco wrote harry that terrible valentine's poem in book two? quite possibly

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Valentine's Card

"Honestly," Draco huffed as he set what had to be the 45th card he'd picked up back on the shelf. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled as he reached for the next.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" a boy who couldn't be more than 17 asked him.

He looked him up and down before gesturing to the selection of Valentine's Day cards, "these are appalling."

"Not a fan of Valentine's Day?" he asked, voice annoyingly sympathetic as if a child could understand the pressure of choosing a Valentine's card for your childhood nemesis, turned work-rival, turned acquaintance, turned best friend, turned (recently) lover.

Although, as it happened, he wasn't particularly fond of Valentine's Day. "Not especially," he conceded. "But these are all so-" he broke off, searching for the right word, "trite. Cute. They make everything seem like relationships are just rainbows and butterflies, and they aren't."

"Err," the teen said, scratching his neck. "Well, I think lots of folks just want to pretend for a day that things aren't awful."

"My relationship isn't awful!" he protested, because he certainly didn't want the teen to go away thinking that. "My relationship is wonderful. He's stubborn, and pig-headed, and too noble for his own good. He drives me mental some days with his inability to think about his own needs. But he's the bloody love of my life and I wouldn't want him any other way."

"Right," the teen replied uncertainly, glancing around for someone to help him. "I don't think I'm supposed to say this, seeing as selling cards is what we do," he said, "but I don't think you're going to find anything like that here."

And Draco couldn't help it, the frustration of trying to find the perfect card melted away and he set down the card in his hand. "You're right," he replied. "Time to try my hand at making something again."

When he got home, he sat down at his writing desk and started to work; he didn't have much time before Harry turned up for their dinner date.

He was putting the finishing touches on the card when he heard Harry tumble out of the floo. Draco blew off the last bit of glitter as Harry came in, bouquet of roses in his hands. "For you," he said, holding them out and leaning in for a kiss.

"For you," Draco replied, offering him the card. "The boy at the shop told me that they didn't have anything that would say what I was trying to say, so I made it myself."

"Babe," he said, grinning at him with the soppiest expression before opening it and reading it aloud,

"Dear Harry, your stubbornness is bested by only your love, your strength by only your kindness. You make me feel like a mess, still I must confess, I'm rather obsessed, with the man who so loves my weakness."

Draco felt himself flushing bright red, uncertain of how the other man would respond. Really, if he'd had more time to think about it, Draco was sure that he wouldn't have even given it to him. "This was stupid-" he started.

Even as Harry looked up at him, eyes shining, "You wrote this for me?" he asked, clutching it to his chest and covering himself in glitter.

"Yes?"

"I love it," he breathed, leaning in to kiss Draco, "This is the sweetest-" he cut himself off to kiss him again. "I love you," he said against his mouth. "All of you," he added, looking pointedly at the last line of the card.

Draco laughed, "I know. But it means the most to me that you love me when I feel like I can't be enough."

Harry kissed him again, and then again, "You're always enough."

"Dinner?" he asked, feeling overly pleased with himself.

Harry shook his head and backed him toward the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."

---------------------

Written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt 'Valentine's Card'

Read more of my 2023 hdcandyhearts ficlets here.

#Fluff #soft #established relationships #am i using this fic as an opportunity to agree that draco wrote harry that terrible valentine's poem in book two? quite possibly #love #drarry #fluff #hdcandyheartsfest #the author knows nothing about writing poetry. please forgive any horrible errors i've made

[the-cryptographer]

1, 3 (this part specifically: "copy paste a line from the first smutty fanfic you wrote"), and 7 if you'd like.

For the Fandom Humiliation Meme~

1. the worst fanfic I’ve ever written/have thought about writing

Ugh!

I think I already talked about writing most of an extremely angsty Fred & George fanfic about them switching identities and then ‘Fred’ dies. And you already know about me writing about the Kaoru siblings raising their child. What more is there to know?

Here’s some more extreme angst I’ve thought about writing, but am unlikely to. There’s this free-to-play rpg-maker horror-lite game called Ib. It’s about a girl - the eponymous Ib, going to an art exhibit, and getting trapped in the world of the paintings, along with a young man called Garry. Then there’s a girl called Mary within the world of the paintings that wants out. Anyhow, Garry becomes immediately protective of Ib and there’s a lot of cute moments that kind of maybe translate easily into a future ship. Except Garry’s also lavender linguistics coded as gay. Anyhow, I thought about writing a post-canon story where both are a little older, and Ib was crushing hardcore and a little terrifyingly on Garry. And he’s kind of, lol, no. You are a child and I don’t like women. But then they’re both kind of bound together by having gone through this horror game experience with one another, and Garry’s relationships with the men in his life are always falling apart because he’s had this really trippy mind-fucky experience he can’t explain to anyone. And eventually he kind of gives in and sleeps with Ib in a moment of weakness because she’s the only one who ‘gets’ what he’s been through. And Ib’s happy about it but he’s kind of miserable and both are in PTSD hell.

It strikes me as kind of problematic, which was maybe kind of the point. But it also sounds maybe a little bit too heavy even for me rn, so~

3. copy paste a line from the first smutty fanfic you wrote

oh god why?

the only smutty thing i’ve posted is this religious guilt, ethereal, one-of-these-people-is-dead, dubcon femslash that’s part of some angsty narrative for this really obscure video game. i actually love this fic but i think i might be the only one

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” Alouette asks.

Prier hikes Alouette’s dress up further.

Alouette sighs again.

“Very well,” Alouette agrees.

She arches her body up against Prier’s. She stretches one long arm around behind Prier, between her legs. Alouette’s finger nails are long, and scratch lightly against Prier’s skin and flesh, as Alouette peels her lips apart and palms the wetness of her sex.

the first smutty thing i actually wrote might be this Draco/Harry thing though. I actually wrote about writing it on this blog before.

So, one of the Drarry tropes I like is in those old fics where Draco somehow ends up in Grimmauld Place, right in the centre of the Order of the Phoenix. And I hate how it’s handled alot, but I love the idea. Because Draco is a racist piece of shit and there’s nothing more tragifunny than him getting stuck with a bunch of people who hate him, or at least hate every single thing he values, whereupon stress-induced craziness can happen [… in] this incredibly hostile environment of hostility, where Draco is super far from any position of power, and Harry and co are acting like self-righteous assholes, and Draco’s acting like his usual racist ‘giving-no-shits’ self but he’s not so secretly terrified… In this environment, Draco takes the opportunity to one-up Harry by dominating him… sexually…

And then that kind of reestablishes some sense of normality for Draco, because Harry’s kind of ashamed that he allowed it and wants more, and it gives Draco something to lord over Harry’s head - a foothold to pretend he’s not everyone else’s bitch in this situation (he is). Of course it all comes crashing down at some point, and also love rears its ugly head, and then Hermione defeats Voldie or something, and Draco walks away with a mansion and lots of Galleons and the classist system is depressingly reestablished.

full post

anyhow. I can’t pick out a line from it because that would involve me reading it and having to choose what to share while my face was on fire. so I’ll just copy-paste the whole thing and, if on the odd chance i decide to write the rest of this fic, i’ll remove the majority of it from this post.also it’s not completely written.also don’t judge me.also if you have any concrit it would be super welcome bc i know nothing about writing smut.

Draco wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realised it before,but Potter was a hair shorter than him, when they stood this close. It was onlya fraction of an inch, but Potter was looking down, averting his eyes, andcombined with his height, and measuring the distance Draco had to stare downwas an entrancing activity.

“If you’re not going to say anything worthwhile, youmay as well put that mouth to use otherwise,” Draco snarls. It’s muggle methodshe uses, kicking at Potter’s knees and pushing down on his shoulders, and anangry look flashes on Potter’s face and he makes a half-hearted attempt atresistance. Potter drops unevenly to one of his knees, his glasses knockedaskew, and grapples wildly with the front of Draco’s robes. It’s as if he weretrying to climb vertically up Draco’s front in the attempt to strangle him,pulling himself up by the lapels of Draco’s robes, twisting them in hisknuckles.

But then, by Potter’s own designs, if Draco has readthe situation correctly, he comes face to face with Draco’s cock, alreadyerect, with pre-come beading at the slit, and then dripping, rolling down theunderside of the shaft.

Potter freezes, and that moment feels like forever.It’s Potter staring through the crooked lenses of his glasses, his mouthclosed, refusing to make eye contact with Draco or turn his face away fromDraco’s crotch, and Draco suddenly has a moment of terrible insecurity.

What if Potter thought he looked funny? What ifPotter thought it was strange how pale it was, with blood colouring it red insplotchy patches? What if he thought it was too curved, or too long, or tooskinny? What if Weasley, or one of the other infernal Gryffindors were largeror more aesthetically pleasing?

And, if the thought of being inadequate compared toa Weasley isn’t the world’s biggest boner killer… Draco almost has to pullaway.

But then Potter, without a word, leans forward everso slightly, his cheek brushing ever so softly against the side of Draco’sprick. His glasses slip off his face the rest of the way and clatter on thefloor, and Draco hisses at the attention.

Potter shifts so both his knees are on the carpet,and then, tentatively, runs his tongue along the underside of his shaft,starting from the very edge of his testicles and moving up all the way to presshis tongue flat against the slit.

And well, that’s more permission than Draco hoped toreceive, so he shoves Potter back the rest of the way against the wall, andlines up his cock to shove back and forth roughly into the waiting mouth.

[…]

They don’t talk about it and Draco doesn’t expectthem to.

7. I already answered this one. But if you missed it my guilty pleasures are OT3s and doujinshi. …I think.

#ask