Draco Malfoy & the Journal of Dreadful Things complete chapter cover set!🥰✨️

Shout out to our beta readers and fandom friends 🎉🎉🎉

They're the backbone of fandom

Mine beta read nearly 100k of zombie apocalypse at this point, and only this year a fairy tale au, a Purge inspired fic, and the fic I wrote for mpreg fest, plus part two and three of the apocalypse, knowing very well that I'm not done with it yet and already being excited to read even more of this madness.

Big thank you to @ladderofyears and @iero0 for constantly supporting my madness and my niche interests 😂💜

Fandom wouldn't be fandom without you babe @gnarf your fics and art are all brilliant and betaing them is a pleasure. 🧡🧡

I love every word of your writing, and I love you immensely, both of you!! 🖤🖤🖤

So much love in this room! @iero0 @gnarf 🧡🧡🧡

It was a stupid place for a portkey to land someone, Draco couldn’t help but think as he cast yet another warning charm and strengthened the imperius that was keeping his coat and hair dry from the heavily falling snow.

Glancing at his watch, he huffed impatiently, he'd been standing here for twenty minutes and the portkey had been scheduled to arrive ten minutes ago. Anxiety, the ever constant roiling in his gut that he could never quite manage to keep at bay, was creeping up his chest, stealing into his lungs. What if something horrible had happened? What if Harry hadn't been able to make the right portkey time but hadn't been able to send him word? What if he'd been captured?

What if he'd decided that Draco wasn't worth coming back to?

He was just getting ready to send a patronus to one of Harry's friends to see if they knew something he didn't when there was a loud crack and Harry staggered to the ground, frying pan in hand.

For a moment they just stood there, looking at one another. He'd changed in the seven months he'd been away, breaking apart a neo-death eater movement in the States. His beard had grown in, cut short and close to his face, and his hair had grown out, wild dark curls brushed his shoulders in the wind.

But so much of him was so dear, so familiar, and Draco ached with it. His eyes prickled and stung, and he wished he could have blamed it on the cold.

"Draco," Harry whispered, voice sounding as wrecked as Draco felt, and then Harry's arms were around him, holding him tight, crushing their bodies together.

They staggered a little, bodies slipping in the snow, but Harry only clung to him more tightly. "I-" he started and then broke off because he couldn't quite manage any words.

"I missed you," Harry breathed, beard scraping against Draco's cheek as he pressed kisses all over his face. "Godric, Draco. I missed you more than I can-" he shook his head. "It's so good to see you, to hold you. I missed you every single day.”

“Me too,” he whispered, tilting his head in an attempt to catch Harry’s lips. Eventually he gave it up as lost and clasped his face in his hands to keep it still so he could kiss him.

When they broke apart several long minutes later, Draco could feel the wet seeping into Harry’s clothes. “Come on,” he said, “you’ll catch a chill. Let’s go home.”

Harry grinned and pressed one more kiss to Draco’s lips, “I promised I’d be home for Christmas.”

“You did,” he affirmed.

Harry nudged Draco’s nose with his, “can I make you another?”

“Another promise?”

With a nod, Harry dropped to one knee and opened a ring case, “Draco, I love you, with all that I am. I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you. I promise that no mission will ever take me from you for this long again.”

“Harry-” he said, covering his mouth. “I-”

“I’m sorry I was late. I wanted to hand in my resignation so I’d be able to promise you that I’ll never leave and mean it. Will you marry me?”

He blinked back tears, trying to clear his vision. “Yes. Harry, of course, yes.” In spite of the snow, he dropped to his knees in front of Harry and kissed him.

Harry slid the ring onto his finger but Draco never broke the kiss, nothing could compare to the feeling of Harry’s lips against his.

Just some 8th years, making overdue friendships, chilling in the library. (pls click for better quality)

doodles

The fourth martini loosens Draco’s tongue. “Everybody knows people don’t mean what they say during sex,” he says and even nods a little, as if that settles it.

Pansy’s eyebrows shoot up. “What did you say?” Then, “what did he say?”

Draco stirs his drink, frowns. “He didn’t mean it.”

“the trouble is, you think you have time.”

Microfic: Stolen Thunder

for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'thunder'

"He's arrogant. Completely reckless." Harry paces in their tiny shared office in Gringotts.

"I cannot believe I am having a conversation about recklessness with someone who stuck his hand into a pit last week instead of contacting Explosives because it would be too slow," Ron says.

"He's not even that good of a Curse-breaker."

"You know that is not true."

"And—"

Ron beats him to the punch.

"Yes, yes, Malfoy took credit for Vault #30512 after implementing your new protocol," Ron recites tiredly. "I've heard."

"Bill can't expect us to be partners."

"You two deserve each other," Padma chimes in.

Fashion

Harry thought letting Draco dress him up is probably the better choice since he's quite clueless about fashion. Bonus point that Draco will be happy for the rest of the day.

(quietly joins the drarry renaissance)

Charged

Spooky, everything covered in old bedsheets. Fitting for October. Cartoonish little ghosts, stationary and a bit smelly—shit, smelly, the whole place was reeking. Not making the best impression here, Harry. He didn’t think it through. Most of his projects started this way: a half-arsed excuse posing as a plan, a murmuring disquiet in his chest. No-no-no turned into maybe, into fine, into you know what? And then charging forward. Harry liked this part best: charging forward. Which was how he found himself here, sitting on the hideous carpet in the middle of his living room. Why was it so hard? The carpet, he meant. Rough material, scratchy on his skin. Hard.

He told Malfoy he wanted to get rid of it. Of everything, that he wanted it all different, new. And Malfoy stood there, with his jacket and his clipboard, tapping his chin with this look on his face. Came close, really close, and said:

“We can’t change everything. Would be silly, anyway, trying to make it new instead of better. If you trust me—”

And Harry was breathless with how much he wanted to shout it, with how it itched and scratched under his skin. Couldn’t find the words, just nodded. And Malfoy smiled, shook his head, like he didn’t quite believe it, like it didn’t matter. Said he’ll take the job, thank god. But only if Harry promised not to be an arse about it.

A bit hard, that.

“Potter?”

He jumped to his feet with a start. Completely missed the keys jangle, the light footfalls, the usual signs of Malfoy in the house. Normally he had a few seconds to prepare, to breathe, but like this, caught—Harry coughed himself to near-death, rubbed his eyes till they stung.

“Bad time?”

He forced himself to blink, to look up. Malfoy, long-legged, in his jacket, neat hair, this unsure line of his smile.

“Pardon?”

“Did I come at a bad time? You seem… preoccupied.”

“Oh. Oh, no, not—you’re fine. I was just… strange, isn’t it. All this empty space.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Well, the furniture won’t arrive until Monday. You signed up for this, remember.”

“I know, I know.”

He sighed, overburdened but a little fond about it. “Come here, give me your hand.”

“Wha—” it was instinct, more than anything now, obeying him without a second thought. Malfoy took both of Harry’s hands, placed one on his shoulder, stretched the other out. Put his own hand on Harry’s waist. “Malfoy?”

“Empty can be good,” was his explanation, which Harry only barely caught. “Leaves space for movement. Dance, you berk, I know you know how.”

“Why…?”

“You’re too tense,” he said. Was his voice always like that? Low and so soft? “If we’re to be working together, I need you to learn how to relax.”

Harry let himself be twirled. Malfoy’s slanted smile, the way he smelled, lemony-sharp, some of the most captivating powers in this world.

Hard. Why was it all so… hard.  

Continuar lendo

I keep dreaming that there's somewhere where we grow old together

soft drarry for @rockingrobin69 always

First Line Game

List the first lines of your last 10 stories (if you have fewer than 10, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 people!

Howl (M, 9k, werewolf Drarry): Draco woke up on a Friday morning in a field hospital in Grasmere, without a single memory of how he had got there.

Take the Moon (M, 15k, dad Draco, stepdad Harry, also werewolf Harry lmao): “I’ll do it, of course I’ll fucking do it,” Draco was saying, which didn’t make any sense, because he was supposed to be at work; maybe Harry was hallucinating him.

The Edge of Something (M, 1.5k, ghost sex which was basically the very reason i wrote the fic): “Well, the good news is that I’m not dead,” Malfoy said, the voice so very much his that it brought Harry out of bed and to his knees.

Far Side (M, 1k, werewolf Harry yet again and also good dad Draco yet again, what can i say i'm in a loop): Harry has a photo on his desk; he says it’s his favourite.

Snow on Snow (T, 1.1k, fake dating turned into safe house shenanigans): On the first night in the safe house, Harry was woken every hour by church bells.

Dreaming Skies (Dron, E, 20k, dragon tamer Ron and Draco who has nowhere else to go): Everything tasted better after working so hard all day that your palms bled.

Countdown to a Life (E, 3.5k, little moments in the first year of their relationship): Night-time, all the lights of London laid out in front of them from the balcony of Dean Thomas’s mum’s flat, the week before Christmas.

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone (E, 4.2k, Master of Death Harry who is going through the Veil to try to raise the dead to help him defeat Voldemort): Draco was the only one awake when Harry got back.

Relic Radiation (M, 1k, Draco goes into space): “At least he waited until now. For Scorp's sake, I mean.”

Mortal Frame (M, 6.6k, Bellatrix left a Horcrux and Draco and Harry must track it down): The pub is called the Red Lion, and Harry thinks Draco might have chosen it on purpose, just for the name.

Hmm, I will admit that I don't think any of these are absolute bangers if I'm honest. Howl was supposed to start with "Something was burning" which I loved, but I had to switch things around so that's now further on in the fic. That said, I think my writing is better now than it used to be, even if the first lines don't necessarily reflect that. I have no patterns, clearly, though I was surprised to see myself starting with dialogue in quite a few of those, as I don't usually think of myself as a good dialogue writer.

My favourite of these is probably Countdown - I'm weak for a long run-on stream-of-consciousness sentence. Or maybe Edge as that would make me as a reader want to know what is happening (why might Draco have been dead??), or Snow because that gives a nice bit of set-up without feeling too heavy.

I did also cheat as the line from Dreaming Skies isn't the first line of the fic, it's the first line of the bit I wrote - @sweet-s0rr0w no doubt did start with a banger but it didn't feel right to nab that as my own.

I would really love to read everyone's so do please tag me if you do it!

I wanted to draw a comic about them and saw this post down here made by @railmeharrypotter so, yeah! That's the result ❤️