Border Hoarders Core

Draco Malfoy is a Girl Dad. You're telling me this man wouldn't wear a feather boa and sit in a comically small chair drinking tea (water) from a tiny china cup??? Unacceptable. That man's entire existence revolves around his daughter's convoluted stuffed animal heirarchy.

XIX. Heavy

This is part of a continuous story, you can read the first part here. Based off this prompt list by @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean

<- previous

After dinner, they moved to the living room as per their ritual. However when Harry had collapsed on the couch, he sank onto the cushions with a veritable weight.

Recently, it was clear he had become more exhausted. There were deep circles under his eyes and his hair was just that bit messier than usual. The way his shoulders slumped with unseen pressure carried him down inch by inch, day by day.

Draco stood behind him and sunk slender fingers vigorously on his shoulders. 

“Is there a problem, dear?” he asked, worry hidden within mockery.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. A weary sigh left his lips before he spoke, “Auror training.” A repeated sentiment Draco had been subjected to ever since he moved into Grimmauld Place. Ever since they graduated, really. 

“Did real life prove to be too hard for you, my dear?” His fingers dug deeper, more meanly, as he found tense muscles.

Harry hadn’t bothered to reply. He sighed, a little more contently, as he laid his head on the back of the sofa. Little by little, as the night ebbed deeper and deeper into the lazy hours near slumber, a small portion of his heaviness seemed to leave with the time.

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Now also available on ao3

[Podfic] Dearest by hoko_onchi (M, 32 minutes)

Draco and Harry accidentally activate a marriage curse and move into a cottage. With chickens.

Harry and Draco, and CHICKENS! I loved hoko's story and wanted to podfic it, so here we go with my first podfic!

Head onto AO3 to listen to this tale of chickens and domesticity and if you enjoy it, feel free to kudo and leave comments there and on the original work!

Story by @hoko-onchi-writes | Art & podfic by @stormy-sky-art

Judgmental Golden trio and the twins! Love them all🥰

Can any of you guess who’s actually Fred and who’s George? To the first person who does maybe I’ll draw you a little doodle 👀

microfic may day 8: crystal

microfic may day 9: puzzle

drarry. 220 words.

Rainbow scattered light dappled over Draco's skin. He was asleep, chest moving down and up in the crystal refracted morning sun.

It was early, too early to be awake after the night he'd had yesterday. And Harry was yet to put the puzzle pieces together and figure out exactly why Draco Malfoy was in his bed.

He wasn't complaining. The guy was oddly soft when he wasn't using his mouth-

Oh, fuck.

Harry wiggled his hips. Flexed his thighs. Stretched his back.

Zero soreness.

He bent forward, scrutinising the milky skin along Draco's neck and shoulders and clavicle. Harry knew he was a biter and a bruiser, but Draco was spectacularly unblemished.

He shifted under the blanket and Harry paused, not moving an inch.

A dream heavy, bed warmed arm slung over his waist, pushing Harry back down into the pillows.

Harry blinked at the fuzzy ceiling.

A voice murmured into his ear, "Go back to bed Potter, I'd never ravish you drunk."

He turned to face Draco, forehead to forehead. "Wait, so we didn't-"

"I swear on Merlin Potter, let me sleep for another hour and maybe then I'll do to you exactly what you asked for last night."

And well, Harry might've flushed a bright red but he did in fact curl in closer and let Draco rest.

if it sucks hit da bricks <- litany against sunk cost

take it easy but take it <- litany against burnout/apathy cycle

fuck it we ball <- litany against perfectionism

now say something beautiful and true <- litany against irony poisoning

when i say i’m from ukraine, people assume i live somewhere else now. when i say i live in ukraine, they assume i’m somehow immune to war, and there’s a logical division between a ukrainian they chat with on discord and a ukrainian on the news. bitches my yaoi is written from the bomb shelter

This is part of a continuous story, you can read the first part here. Based off this prompt list by @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean

I'll catch up soon, but in the mean time:

<- previous

XXIII. Transparent

The pictures flashed on the screen, a unique sort of magic. Yet Draco’s disdain was transparent on his face.

“I thought you didn’t hate muggles anymore,” Harry said bemusedly.

“I don’t,” Draco spoke, sneer stuck on his face, “It doesn’t really go with the decor.”

It didn’t. The olde black house was not meant to hold anything so modern. So simple. So muggle.

“We should make it the statement piece.”

XXIV. Heated

Draco got home to find a piece of paper on the kitchen counter:

Busy with work I left food in the ice-box xo, HP

He took the left-over lasagna from lunch and placed it in the newest muggle addition to their home: the microwave.

He sat at the table alone with his reheated food still cold in the middle and tasting like an attenuated version of what it would taste like with Harry.

XXV. Brume

He braved the streets of Diagon Alley on a foggy morning, when he could blend in with the crowd.

He walked the cobbled streets, with the expectation of his most grim experiences coming to life, but the people simply walked by without a second glance.

Among the brume on the roads, he spotted him immediately. Horrible hair an immediate give away. Green eyes that could shine through the cloudiest skies, already trained on him—a picked up face in the crowd.

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