bakerstreet | winter wonderland;

❄ it's quiet
and the snow's beautiful tonight

snowfall;

stage i; none, streets are already blanketed in white.
stage ii; very light and intermittent.
stage iii; light - moderate. lasts longer periods.
stage iv; continuous, heavy snowfall.
stage v; the hardest of cores - blizzards, snowstorms, you name it.

scenarios;

① fuck the police, this is the best time for a walk. hope you've got a nice thick coat on.
② stranded in the buttcrack of nowheresville? weren't you watching the time? now you've gone and missed that last bus out of there. or maybe you're lost, somehow. what do?
③ literally chilling, in this weather, is quite easy to do. sitting around relaxing in it is a wee more difficult, but sometimes much more enjoyable, especially if shelter can be found. the snow is beautiful to watch, after all.
④ the weather's not going to stop you. your snow fort's packed full of ammo and ready to go. those aren't snow angels over there; they mark where the poor souls you've downed have fallen. be careful with that snowman's head!!
⑤ you're about fifty miles from civilization but there's a roof over your head, so never mind the chilly draught, right? right. you mightn't be the only one lucky enough to stumble upon this little shelter, though. remember to share the blanket.
⑥ everyone stuck outside should be jelly. you've got a fireplace and hot cocoa and damn if it isn't awesome. a heater's not quite so romantic, but it'd do. there'd better be a backup generator in case the power trips.
⑦ mix and match, or make up your own.

- from krystaliske@memebells

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The weather is, to say the least, absolutely horrendous. It's the sort of weather where Draco would normally not be caught dead outside, not even with heaps of Warming Charms laced through every fibre of his being. But every now and then, sacrifices must be made.

Scorpius wasn't due home from school for another week or so, but while the small child was away, the parents had to play. That was the one good thing about boarding school - they had a bit of time to themselves. Sure, Draco missed his son horribly, and had a tendency to complain quietly when he only got three letters in a week instead of five, but he also loved the ample opportunity to spend intimate moments with his wife.

Or, on the flip side, the absolutely ridiculous moments. Like right now.

Really, only one person could get him to brave what was probably turning into a blizzard just for a snowball fight, and it was her. He loved her for it. Among other things, obviously, but this was definitely one of them.

He rubbed his gloved hands together again, trying to warm them slightly through before he snagged one of his snowballs from the pile. Visibility was down, but he'd manage. At least her hair was dark against the snowfall; he'd be fine. "Ready?"

The weather was absolutely horrendous. Astoria didn't mind it though; she never had, not really. She loved being out in the cold because it meant she could warm up later - the temporary chill was bracing, something to enjoy. Things like this, silly things like a snowball fight, kept them both occupied while Scorpius was away.

It was simple, wasn't it? They both missed him every day but it was just how things were; a child at Hogwarts meant the times they had with him over break were all the more precious. The times together were cherished too.

She was settled in well with her own stack of snowballs, hefting one up easily in her hand - she knew her hair was a beacon against the snow even with it still coming down, but at least she had Draco's coat to assist her as well.

"Of course I'm ready," she said, tone almost teasing - "I've been ready for ages while you were fussing about it being cold."

"Well, it is," Draco protested, unable to stifle his laugh entirely. "I'm delicate." A beautiful and unique snowflake, delicate and fragile and incapable of dealing with the cold even if there was an unspoken promise of cuddling up by the fire after the fact. In truth, though, he was excited. He loved doing things like this in the privacy of their home.

It had been a while since the last time he'd played Quidditch, but some of the skills stuck with him over the years. Namely, being able to throw, despite the fact that he'd always deemed himself too good for this sort of thing during school. It never came in much use until recently, but at least it wasn't entirely wasted. He let the first snowball fly, then promptly grabbed another, ducking low behind the makeshift fort he'd put together, and tossed the second.

"You're a baby," she shot back, loving and affectionate. She was more than happy with him just as he was though - it was things like this that made her fall in love with him in the first place, and served as a reminder for just how lucky she felt.

She knew the snowball would be coming and twisted out of the way, though it still caught the edge of her shoulder as she moved. Then she was tossing one his way, aiming to lob it over the top of his fort as she ducked behind her own carefully-constructed snow wall.

Because of that she was able to avoid the second one entirely, though she quickly volleyed back with one and then another of her own, already laughing.

"A baby who's going to beat you!" He couldn't help but pout at that, though, even though he doubted she could see it from where she was. He'd just pout harder later on when she could. Just on principle. Of course, it was utterly mutual, and he loved her all the more for the fact that she loved him for all of this.

He heard a bit of a connection when the snowball glanced off her shoulder, and flung another in quick succession, hoping the barrage would help him get a bit of an edge here. Her wall was better than his, though, so the jury was out. And when her snowball hit him square in the side of the head, he merely let out an overdramatic, anguished cry. "I'm hit!"

"A little cocky, don't you think?" She didn't have to see the pout to know it was there, and it made her grin. Just a little. Familiar, anyway, to see the pull of his face like that - she didn't mind it, since it just meant she could pat his cheeks and make him pout a little more before stealing it away with affection.

Draco being hit was a sweet victory she couldn't even crow about because by the time his words had registered his own snowball had arced over the top of her wall to land square on the top of her head before she could dodge it.

"My hair!" was the only thing she said for a moment, followed quickly by "Draco Malfoy!"

(Hopefully he was ready for a renewed vigor in her counterattacks as she flung a few his way in quick succession.)

Edited (word repetition rip) 2016-09-15 15:48 (UTC)

"Not at all, it's simply realistic." He wished. It was entirely in his dreams, much like the notion of her greeting him home from an outing in nothing but very lacy lingerie. At least that one was slightly attainable, if he played his cards just right and she was feeling playful. But it was true, she always managed to alleviate his pouting with further affection; she never failed to get him to smile.

And if getting pegged by her snowball had been a travesty and a point against him, then hearing her confirm that he had indeed hit her (at the expense of her hair, which could easily be fixed) was a point in his favour. Not that the victory, such as it was, would last long.

He spent a moment punching the air to commemorate it, and probably shouldn't have. The next snowball arced towards him, and he barely dodged it with a squeak of surprise, only to be hit by the second and third. Despite snow clinging to his coat, his hair, and his scarf - sure signs that he was very much losing this battle already - Draco hid a little more behind his little wall, grabbing another couple of snowballs to return fire.

"Mmmmhm." She worked her best for a balance, maintaining his ego without making it too big. Just right to suit the both of them. It worked for her too, knowing they were both happy like this. Plus, making him feel better afterward was sometimes the best part.

She did crow in victory when her snowballs connected, but after that it was suspiciously silent. Every so often a snowball would pop out from behind the wall toward him but they seemed a bit aimless, easy to dodge.

It was because she was sneaking around out of sight so that she could come up behind him, one arm wrapping around his torso as she tipped her head so that she could press cold lips against the side of his neck, the action affectionate as anything. "Hello darling," she murmured, so close even her eyelashes brushed his skin.

As she used her other hand to casually shove some snow down the back of his coat.

He had a feeling that she had some sort of plot in mind here, but he couldn't figure it out for the life of him. He merely kept pitching snowballs off in the direction of hers, frowning to himself before he wondered if something hadn't happened. He was just mildly concerned, wondering if that was a ploy to get him out away from his little fort. Feign injury, get his concerns up, then use that against him. It was too wily, truly.

Of course, his questions were answered quickly enough - she did have a plan, but it was entirely different from what he'd expected. The cold kiss got a sharp sound of surprise, a jolted yelp as he bristled, barely daring to twist around lest he hit her with his head. He ought to have moved, though, because then that snow was going straight down his coat, and he screeched like a small girl.

winter wonderland;

the excitement is real (iv - 4)

smooches ya face

smooches back uwu

what a good husband

c:

they're literally a dumb trope-y in love couple, disgusting

way too friggin' cute, how dare

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