Snow Smooch ❄️
Random snow in May, yeah that’s how I felt when it snowed here yesterday 🤨.
So I drew some cute Drarry to make it better 💕 It did get me excited for Christmas time, maybe a 25 days is in my future 😘.
WIP I'm prolly never gonna finish
Ron: Harry, why have you been snogging Malfoy?
Harry: Well, he's my enemy
Ron: I KNOW THAT! You are not supposed to KISS YOUR BLOODY ENEMY!
Harry: *confused and with his enemies to lovers novels in hand* I'm not?
Draco: *in the distance* He's not?
The annoyance of when you read an amazing Fanfiction and you don't want to re read it but you want another Fanfiction almost exactly like it
but you can't find anything that will meet your standards
born to be sacrificed
there's always that one ship where the characters are mutually antagonistic and would kill or betray each other for shits and giggles, and ppl will flock to it like piranhas
this one might be hard to gather some fics for but do you have any where harry is the one that likes/falls in love with draco first?
Gosh I love this trope - here you go:
● Azoth by zeitgeistic. Rated Explicit, word count 88k.
Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.
● One Harry Potter, Please by faithwood. Rated M, word count 60k.
All Draco wants is Harry Potter's friendship, just to make his new Auror job more bearable. However, after Harry stubbornly pays more attention to everyone else — including his secret admirer — Draco is forced to resort to drastic measures. And get more than he's bargained for.
● Nearly Lost Things, Carefully Tended by SquadOfCats. Rated Explicit, word count 46k.
Three years after the war, Harry is lost, drifting, and feeling left behind. In an effort to get control of his life, he commits to cleaning out Grimmauld Place top-to-bottom and forcing it to be a home, whether it likes it or not. The rotten old house is stuffed full of antiques, and Harry is shocked to discover none other than Draco Malfoy running the local antique shop. Malfoy is polite -- too polite, and Harry soon finds himself with a mission: to annoy and bother Malfoy with the most hideous, absurd antiques he can find. But along the way, Harry comes to appreciate Draco, his work, and the power of connecting to the people who came before him. It's a hard lesson, but Harry learns that if he wants to build a future, he has to reconnect to his past, and Draco might just be the one to help him do it.
● Re: Harry's Crush by lettersbyelise. Rated M, word count 3.5k.
Ever get that feeling you're being talked about behind your back? Harry doesn't, he's too busy being stupidly, obviously besotted with the guy in the lab downstairs.
● Play Dates by bixgirl1. Rated Explicit, word count 7k.
Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.
The other stuff I've been working on I can't share yet because it's for a fest, so please take this humble offering. 🙏
Here's this for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: heart-stopping. I'm feeling a little rusty tonight for some reason, but I wanted to get this out. Enjoy!
Harry felt static fill his ears, panic making his blood rush and his tongue prickle. He saw Draco's lips move, saw him respond, but he couldn't hear, couldn't—
Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of him as he was tackled flat on his back onto the floor. He thwacked his head painfully on the ground, and his leg was bent a bit awkwardly, but it didn't matter when he had his arms full of Draco insistently fusing their lips in a searing kiss.
"Wait, wait," Harry said when they pulled back for air. "So that's a 'yes?'"
"Yes, Harry," Draco said, eyes shining as he cupped Harry's face gently. "Of course I'll marry you."
Day 195.2: Hobbies (Part 2)
You can read Part 1 here, if you'd like. Or read this as a stand alone; all you need to know is that Harry learned to make Turkish Pottery.
Draco stood in the doorway, quite certain that he couldn't be seeing what his eyes thought they were seeing. There was no world in which he could be staring at Harry Potter.
If it was Potter, he seemed to have grown even more attractive in the four years since last Draco saw him. Where his hair had been shorn close to his head, it now was long enough for him to pull into a messy topknot; his face had been clean-shaven and now he had a neat, tidy beard. He'd been in pristine, formal auror robes at the last function they'd happened upon each other during, and now he sat with his legs spread wide around the kick wheel, jeans tattered and splattered with clay, wearing an olive green Henley that made his bronze skin glow, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, hands covered in clay.
And Draco couldn't think, couldn't even form words, because in no world was it acceptable for someone to look that fucking hot when they were that fucking messy.
Finally, he found his voice, since Potter was just sitting there and staring right back, the piece he'd been constructing now a crumpled heap of clay. "Potter?"
"Err, both by name and by trade," he replied, "yes."
And Draco couldn't quite help himself, he huffed a laugh, because this was so ridiculous, so utterly preposterous, that what else was he meant to do?
"I'm guessing you're surprised to see me."
He huffed a laugh, "I think anyone would be surprised to see you here."
(Read more below the cut)
Potter hummed, scraping the white clay off the wheel and dropping it into a bucket as he moved to standing. "I'd like to keep it that way, if it's all the same to you."
He took a step back, "Are you going to try to obliviate me?" he asked, not keen on having anyone mess with his mind.
The other man blinked at him, "The thought hadn't even occurred to me." He went to the sink and washed his hands, "I was just going to ask your price for keeping it a secret," he added, looking over his shoulder at Draco.
"Oh," he replied, shoulders easing a bit. "No, of course. I won't tell anyone."
Potter raised an eyebrow and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the sink. "What's the catch?"
"No catch," he insisted. "I'm sure you had your reasons for leaving. Circe knows I've thought about it enough," he added. "I would like to purchase some of your work though, if you're amenable," he said, since that was why he'd stopped here in the first place.
Those keen green eyes, scrutinized him for a moment longer, weighing him, before deciding to drop whatever thoughts had been swirling around his head. "Sure," he said easily. "That's why I'm here," he added with a shrug.
"Your work is," Draco shook his head, "mind-blowingly incredible."
Potter laughed and Draco watched from the corner of his eye as he pushed off the sink and wandered over closer to where Draco was looking at the wall of tea sets. "Thanks."
"Do you do it all by hand?"
The other man looked over at him, "As opposed to?"
"Oh," he said, eyebrows raising like the idea surprised him, "Yeah, everything is handmade. I," he shrugged, "use magic to help with cleaning up but the whole point of starting pottery was to have something to do with my hands. My magic-" he broke off, "well. I'm sure you read the papers when it was splashed across every front page."
Draco had been exceedingly curious about that, "Well, one never knows quite what to believe when reading those rags," he said.
The corner of Potter's mouth quirked, "That is," he sighed while he searched for the right words, "refreshingly nice to hear."
He hummed, "Well, I like to hope that people don't believe all that they read about me."
"What brought you in?" Potter asked, graciously changing topics.
Draco laughed, "Luna has one of your tea sets," he said, gesturing to the display in front of him. "It's beautiful," he added. "I asked her where she got it and she told me the name of your shop. Didn't bother to mention that it was you running it, though."
Potter chuckled, "That checks out."
He picked up a pretty blue teacup, examining the intricate designs all of the different shades of blues and the one cheerful pop of yellow.
"Well," he said, "I'll leave you to look." He caught a loose curl and tried to tuck it back into his bun. "Let me know if you have any questions."
Truth be told, Draco had a thousand questions. And some of them were even about Potter’s work.
Nonetheless, he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask, it wasn’t his place, and anything that he wanted to know was ultimately just to satisfy his curiosity about where Potter had gone, what he’d done while he was there, and why he’d left.
Eventually, after picking up various pieces to test the way the different cups felt as he held them in his hand, he settled on a set that was a deep, earthy brown on the outside, glazed until it looked almost wet with how shiny it was. But it was the inside that Draco was really taken with. The inside was painted with blues and teals and whites, it looked like a constellation exploding into being and he couldn’t wait to have a cup of tea and watch the image appear as he drank it.
“Find something you liked?” Potter asked, looking up from a bowl he was painting.
“So many things that I liked,” he replied with a laugh.
Potter smiled at him, bright and earnest. “Thank you.” He set down his paint brush and moved to the counter so he could start packaging the tea set.
Draco watched his sure, graceful movements as he wrapped each cup and the double pot in paper and tidily boxed it up.
After paying with his muggle bank card, Draco said, “thank you. I,” he swallowed, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”
Potter leaned his elbows on the counter, green eyes searching Draco’s face. “I believe you,” he replied.
The other man reached out to hand Draco the box and their fingers brushed and Draco was shocked by a jolt of magic so strong he couldn’t help but gasp. It didn’t hurt, it was a sort of pleasant tingling that he felt race up his arm and then down his spine leaving something bright and hot in its wake.
“Shit,” Potter hissed, wandlessly catching the box with Draco’s tea set in it and holding out a steadying hand to Draco but not touching him. “Sorry. Godric, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”
He nodded, “What was that?”
“My magic,” he shook his head, “it’s close to the surface sometimes. It doesn’t happen with muggles,” he hastened to add like he thought Draco might be worried that he was breaking the statue of secrecy. “Are you okay?”
“You’re not hurt?”
He shook his head, “it didn’t hurt at all.”
“Oh,” Potter said, as though it was a surprise. “Most people say it’s like when you get shocked with static electricity.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, not entirely sure how to say that it had felt nice without admitting that was the case. “It just surprised me.”
He held out the box again, keeping his fingers back, and Draco took it. A small part of his brain was tempted to reach out and touch him again, to hold his hand, see if prolonged contact would lessen or strengthen the feeling.
“What did your healers say was causing that?” he asked as he walked backwards toward the door.
“No one knows,” Potter replied with a shrug.
He frowned, that was a bit disconcerting. “I’m a healer.”
Something thrilled in the pit of his stomach to know that Potter had kept tabs on him. “I specialize in psychological and trauma induced magi-care.”
The other man tilted his head, “for people who’ve suppressed their magic because of trauma.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed. “But also people for whom the opposite it true.”
“My understanding was that your work largely revolves around children and teens,” Potter replied, obviously making the connection between what Draco was saying and what he was implying.
He hummed, “Sometimes,” he affirmed. “Often, even. But I don’t specialize in a particular age group. The field has grown quite a bit in the past few years,” he said, leaving the ‘since you’ve been away’ left unsaid. “I’d,” he swallowed nervously, “be happy to see you, if you are interested. A lot of people really struggled right after the war and the wizarding community has never been good about mental health care. It’s possible that your healer-” he broke off and cleared his throat. “Well. It’s possible that we know more now than we knew then. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
Potter stared at him for a long moment and Draco had to resist the urge to fidget and start talking again.
“Well,” he said again. “Here’s my card, in case you ever decide it’s something you’re interested in.” He flicked his business card toward Potter, using a little wandless magic to help it arrive at its destination.
Then Draco turned and fled the shop without waiting for anything more to be said on the matter.
To be continued.
for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'heartstopping'
Sea glass catches Draco's eyes amongst the pebbles lining the shore and he picks a piece up. Harry leans back onto his bag, basking in the non-existent sun. Harry reaches out to pull Draco into the circle of his arms. Draco goes along with it.
"I like you," Harry confesses.
What about drarry who are super overwhelmed parents?
Thank you for the lovely request and sorry for the long wait, I wasn’t really satisfied about them till now 🥲
Anyway imma gonna leave here an old fanart I did with a very similar theme, maybe you’ll like it !
(I usually don’t spam my art but this is kinda fitting soooo🤷🏼♀️)
Thank you again and happy Saturday!
Fandom: Harry Potter
Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Author: tenthousandyears (tumblr | AO3)
Prompt: #22 Invincible
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful @crazybutgood for the beta!
There is something about loving Potter that Draco doesn’t realise at first.
It’s not just kissing him, holding him, sighing under him, brushing his hair away from his forehead.
It’s that the more vulnerable he feels, the more invincible he feels, too.
It’s glorious. Draco wonders how he never knew.
“Stop it,” Draco chortled, watching Harry hang upside down from his broomstick, “you might be the bloody Chosen One, but you’re not invincible!”
For @microficmay, prompt: invincible.
something kinda gay about having a nemesis
bunny draco for @short666bread 🦋💫❤️🩹
this piece is part of an art swap inspired by emojis. click here to see bug's amazing piece!
The people in the deli had all sorts of theories about the English couple: maybe the black-haired man was a soldier, or the blond a sailor, and they only got to see each other every other weekend. It would explain the infrequent, regular visits; it would also explain why they couldn’t stop touching each other, looking at each other like that. When the one with the glasses would go on tip-toes to reach for a tin, and the other would roll his eyes, so fond even the tomatoes blushed—there was just something about them, everyone could see. Something… magic.
For @domaystic‘s day 23. Find all of Robin’s Domaystic Drabbles here!
Got any good proposal fic recs???
I wasn't sure if you wanted fics that were purely centred around the proposal or just fics that included a proposal so here's some of both -
● The Special Occasion by Alisanne. Rated M, word count 1k.
Harry plans a special surprise.
● Matchmaker, Matchmaker by firethesound. Rated Explicit, word count 11k.
Sometimes, Harry can't help but wonder why such strange shit always happens to him.
● 5 Times Harry Tried To Propose (and The Time He Gets It Right) by carpemermaid. Rated M, word count 7k.
5+1 marriage proposals Harry makes to Draco.
● The Proposal by dracogotgame. Rated M, word count 4k.
Draco's proposal is a night to remember.
● Here Be Dwagons by Enchanted_Jae, hd_family_mod. Rated M, word count 11k.
Draco Malfoy has what Harry always wanted--a family. Harry begins to court Draco in hopes of gaining his heart's desire through marriage.
● Breakable Vows by keeprunning. Rated G, word count 750.
”Potter!” Malfoy exclaims, stopping abruptly and wheeling around in one disconcerting, Quidditch-honed motion. He shoves a box in Harry’s face. “Do you see this? Six galleons for chocolates. They were twelve yesterday. Half price!”
● Happy New Year, Draco by loopyzoop. Word count 2k.
It wasn't a large diamond and it certainly wasn't what most pictured when they thought of engagement rings. But there was something beautiful about it that didn't exactly make sense, but it reminded him of the way lighthearted, lightheaded, way he felt when Draco was laughing. Or smiling. Or shagging him into the mattress.
● Packing The Flat by marguerite_26. Rated M, word count 6k.
Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.
Thank you for the tag @drarrily-we-row-along - absolutely loved the delicious snip you posted, read it here!
100k into my current WIP and having a crisis as it just occurred to me that maybe none of it makes sense... talking myself down very gently but it means i can't post the latest bit i wrote in case i find myself spiralling further into confusion 😂so here's a snip from an older extract i'm just about to edit!
i've missed loads of tags recently so apols if i'm missing anyone - off the top of my head i'm going to tag sprint buddies etc @coffeedrgn87 @corvuscrowned @katie-alden @maesterchill @makeitp1nk @mintamintathings @oknowkisskiss @onbeinganangel @shealwaysreads @thesleepiesthufflepuff @the-starryknight @sweet-s0rr0w @teacup-tai @wolfpants and also please anyone else who fancies doing this and distracting me from my misery!
Wartime AU, Voldemort still knocking about, Wolfstar lives, Draco deserted the Order and then came back. Harry has just returned from multiverse-travelling and accidentally brought a Malfoy from another universe with him, who’s been telling them all about his world.
“I can’t believe everyone just left him to die!”
Sirius was in a rage, prowling restlessly around the room, black hair gleaming in the shivering light from the sconces.
“Dumbledore—yeah, I mean, I can see that,” Ron said consideringly. “But there’s no way our Sirius or Remus would have ever let Harry die. Your versions must be absolute incompetents,” he said, looking at Remus and Sirius. “No offence.”
Remus rolled his eyes.
“Not to dwell too much on my equivalent’s shortcomings,” he said to the other Malfoy, “but how could they have been so careless? Albus, yes, I can see that. He always was ambitious when it came to Harry. But if our world is so close to yours, I just can’t imagine how…” His eyes flickered momentarily, and Harry realised that other Malfoy had flinched the tiniest bit. Remus, wolf-sharp, had noticed of course. “Oh. Oh.”
“Oh, what?” Sirius said crossly. “There’s no oh about it, Moons. If they let Albus talk their Harry into walking to a certain death before he’d even finished school then we should take Malfoy’s Time-Trip thing and go and kick their arses ourselves.”
“To be fair to other me,” Harry said. “It does sound like the sort of thing I might do.”
“Which is exactly why Moony and I keep you on the straight and narrow,” Sirius told him, grabbing his hand. Sirius was a bit too thin, always, from the nervous prowl of him and the long nights of no sleep and the hunt. His fingers slipped around Harry’s smoothly, tight at the knuckles, ropey with tendons as he clutched harder.
“Pads,” Remus said quietly. “I think what the other Malfoy is trying to tell us is that, in his world, we’re—what, both of us?” He eyed other Malfoy, who nodded. “We’re dead, I think.”
“You went first,” other Malfoy said to Sirius, “which is what started it all for my Harry. And then you—” Remus sat back heavily in his chair “—went and got yourself killed in the battle, and you two—” he stabbed a finger accusingly at Ron and Hermione “—weren’t even around when he decided, like a twat, to trot off into Voldemort’s camp and thus face certain death. Anyone with a modicum of sense would have known he’d do something epically foolish, and yet…” He spread his hands out dismissively, and settled back into his chair, shoulders relaxed, spine soft.
He was, Harry realised, enjoying himself, the bright eyes of an adventurer. Sirius’s fingers twitched in Harry’s grip, nose wrinkled in irritation as he listened to other Malfoy. Across the room, real Malfoy was watching, eyes flat as they lingered on his-face-but-not. He looked paler than usual, though it might just have been the contrast with other Malfoy and that red, red thread of scarring that tugged his lips into a smile and threw the line of his cheekbone into sharp relief.
21 May | LCDrarry Double Feature | Art:
At Last I See the Light
Prompt: "Tangled", 2010, Nathan Greno & Byron Howard
Prompted by: @resilientkitteh / Meowfoy on AO3
Art Medium: paper, cross-stitch
Rating: General Audiences
Notes: So many thanks to M, L, P, and L for your encouragement and feedback!
Thank you, wonderful mods, for your patience and dedication!
Summary: On a placid lake, near a storied castle famed for illumination, all at once everything looks different.
View it now on AO3.
Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry.
Author and artist reveals are on 15 June.