#draco is a mess

[pato-roldnart]

"He pulls himself together for the exchange of rings, which is the most wonderful thing Harry’s done in his life."

In the Presence of My Enemy

Commission for @dodgerkedavra fic!!!!!

Thank you so much for commissioning! I'm happy I could draw drarry and design their clothes 🥰🥰, it's always my favourite part jejeje

[handledwithgloves]

someone was all like 'it's so ooc that in fics harry is the messy one and draco is the clean freak bc harry was raised to clean up after himself and others while draco never lifted a finger in his entire life' and i completely agree!!

harry would keep his general living space, kitchen, and bathroom clean and then his bedroom (mostly his bed) would be a bit of an organized mess. like things would be placed what seems to be randomly, but to harry it makes sense. yknow what i mean lol

draco would hate mess but he wouldn't know how to go about taking care of it, so he'll just cover it up or ignore it. stain on the floor? put a new decor over it, problem solved. clothes not folding itself? hide it in the furniture. like yes he'll keep things neat and in logical places like his stationary is distinctly placed and memorized on his desk but don't ask him about his bathroom, bed room or living space. he doesn't use his kitchen.

[deztryx]

Srry for not posting, been getting ready for a con

Just finished the Draco cosplay today, Im finishing up The Ghoul from Fallout show

:3

[metalomagnetic]

Sirius just hugs Draco close, the way he used to hug Regulus, when they were just children, and a storm would shake the house. His brother used to sneak under Sirius’ blankets, admit he’s terrified, and Sirius would hold him, sleepily, would tell him ‘I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you.’ 

His brother died in water, dragged to the bottom of a lake, alone, alone, alone, Kreacher said, shaking with grief. 

Why didn’t he come to me? Sirius thought, devastated, wanting to weep, to yell to the sky, but he didn’t cry; instead, he told Kreacher it’s his fault Regulus died, what sort of elf is he, to let his Master die? 

“You are weak. Traitorous creature. You let him die. You left him behind,” Sirius spat out, all the words he told himself at night, he aimed them at Kreacher, instead. 

Sirius grips Draco tighter, desperate to protect him, keep him safe. “I’m here,” he swears. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

[severussnapemylove]

Y/N; “HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!” *aggressively throws water bottles* 

Draco; “Uh... what's up with them?”

Severus; “They’re trying to yell mental health and wellbeing into us.”

Y/N; “I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!”

Draco; (tearing up) “It's working.”

[blackcathjp]

love fics where draco discovers harry has a praise kink. they'll be making out or something when draco mumbles a compliment like, "you feel so good, you're doing so well for me." which makes harry's brain short circuit and go fuzzy, letting out extremely turned on whimpers against draco's lips while his hips stutter and grind harder against draco.

draco's eyes widening in response, realizing, "oh, my sweet little thing. you like it when i say you're being good for me, huh? look at you, you're shaking, so sweet, so hot. fuck, you're mine, all mine."

harry just combusts from the sweet praise, which is barely even dirty talk, but it feels much sweeter and hotter, making him come untouched, babbling, "yes, i'm yours, all yours draco, fuck."

harry loves draco's voice so much. so voice + praise kink = a very hot and turned on harry. he also likes complimenting draco because he gets so flustered and stutters more, trying to act like he's unaffected but his skin hides nothing - it's a dead giveaway with how pink his ears and cheeks turn.

but harry gets so much hotter underneath, and even more when draco's so mindlessly overcome with pleasure that he can't stop talking.

in conclusion: harry has a huge praise + voice kink, draco likes sharing (and making harry beg him to talk). sometimes, draco purposefully keeps quiet, only moans and grunts, but harry wants more, begging, "please please, i wanna hear you, please draco, i'm being good for you right 🥺🥹?"

draco smirks. he's so easy.

[longdaytogo]

can you draw a long haired draco? 🥺

No clue if I've already posted this before on here as it's a bit old but here you go! Long hair draco (or in actuality veela draco).

[drarrily-we-row-along]

July 17: Outdoors

(I did, in fact, start writing this in July, only to heartlessly abandon it after writing 4 paragraphs because I was a mess. So... enjoy it now? [insert shrug emoji])

Draco fucking loathed the heat.

He despised the summer, with the hot fucking sun and too few clouds. He hated the way his body felt, too hot, sticky, always wet, his clothes damp where they clung to his skin. It felt like the outdoors was boiling him in his own sweat.

And yes, he was sitting on the edge of the pool, his calves and feet in the cool water. And yes, he had worn his shortest pair of shorts, and his most light-weight button up shirt that he wore unbuttoned down to his naval, and his giant sun hat that shaded his skin and protected him from the sun (in addition to his strongest sun-blocking charms), and his huge sunglasses to keep him from glaring because of the sun (it didn't change his glaring because of his annoyance at the heat). And yes, he'd consumed more than his fair share of ice water and the long islands that his host kept on the table.

But it didn't change the fact that he was sticky, sweaty, hot and currently, more to the point, also fucking aroused.

Because Harry Potter didn't seem to have the same problems that Draco had in the heat. His bronze skin glistened with sweat and tanning oil; beads of water rolling down his pecks and abdomen, collecting in the hair on his chest and stomach when he emerged from the pool. Potter, instead of turning a hideously unattractive shade of red like Draco, only continued to grow more golden in the sun, painfully fucking beautiful. His swim trunks were indecently short, clinging to his muscular thighs and perfectly round arse, and leaving far too much of his skin on display.

It wasn't fair for Draco to have to be this hot and also attracted to someone. Attraction took up way too much space in his brain and body and he simply didn't have the energy for it in this heat.

“Draco, are you even listening to me?” Pansy snapped.

“No,” he replied honestly, as he took another long drink from the straw sticking out of his glass.

He didn’t have to be looking at her to know that she was rolling her eyes at him. “I will never understand your fascination with him.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “You’re only attracted to women,” he said, then, “and I’m not fascinated with him,” he added as almost an after thought.

Before she could reply, Ginerva was interrupting them, sliding her soaking wet, bikini-clad body in between the two of them.

“Uggh,” he said, sliding away from her, “you’re soaking me.”

She looked over at him, that particular brand of Weasley mischief that Draco did his best to avoid, shining in her eyes.

“Whatever you are thinking, don’t you fucking dare,” he warned her.

But then both of her hands were on him, unceremoniously shoving him into the pool. And it wasn’t that Draco couldn’t swim, but he didn’t swim terribly well, and he hadn’t expected to be shoved into the pool in the first place, so the panic took over.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him to the surface in spite of his flailing and choking. “I’ve got you,” the body holding his assured him.

And Draco recognized that voice, frankly, he was fairly certain that he could have simply recognized the body by touch alone; no need to hear or see or smell him. He wanted to tell him to just let him drown, let him slip back under and die because it would be better than living through this embarrassment, but he was still coughing and struggling to get a good breath, so none of the words quite came out right.

Potter carried him through the water and over to the steps. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding Draco out of the pool, “let’s head inside and get you some dry clothes.”

“Oooh!” Ginerva had the nerve to call out and Draco relegated her back down to his least favorite Weasley.

“Fuck off,” Potter called, flipping her a two fingered salute on their way in. "Are you alright?" he asked, all charming concern for Draco's well being.

“I’m fine,” Draco said, in spite of the way his throat was still burning and aching. “I should just go home.”

“Absolutely not,” Potter replied, leading him through the house and back toward what Draco could only assume was his bedroom.

And Draco had imagined Potter taking him back to his bedroom a thousand times but the circumstances had been very different in his imaginings. He'd imagined (fantasized) about Potter being so taken with him that he couldn't resist his charms; Potter calling him beautiful, sexy, unable to keep his hands off him.

Instead, Potter was treating him like a patient. In a decidedly unsexy way. He picked up his wand off the nightstand next to the bed, “I’m just going to cast a spell to clear any residual water from your lungs,” he informed him. The spell rattled through Draco as he moved his wand over his chest in a complicated pattern. “Then I’m going to stick pretty close by for the next couple of hours,” he said as he moved to the closet and started digging through for something for Draco to wear. “Best to monitor you.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

Potter turned to glare at him, “which one of us is the healer and which one of us is the wand maker?” He put his hands on his hips, “I wouldn’t argue with you about how to make a wand-”

“You would,” he interrupted. “You literally have.”

“You can either choose to be monitored by me or I’ll take you to St. Mungo’s myself,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t.”

Potter raised an eyebrow and crossed his stupidly buff arms over his stupidly broad chest, “try me.”

"Potter," he groaned.

"Don't Potter me," he said, apparently taking that for acquiescence and turning back to his closet. "Now, I think these swim shorts," he said, holding out a tiny pair of swim trunks with flamingos on them, "will work because they have a drawstring waist band. And this button up," he said, holding out a pink shirt that matched the flamingos, "will be best because it's lightweight and matches the vibe you're wearing now."

Draco accepted the clothes and carefully didn't point out that he could have just cast a spell to dry the clothes he was already wearing. The temptation to put on Harry's clothes was far too great. "Are you going to stand there and watch me dress, too?" he asked as he started to peel off his wet shirt. "Do I need monitoring so intensely?"

"No," Potter said, turning so quickly that he almost ran into the doorway. "Err," he said, stepping sideways and out of the door. "I'll just wait out here."

Once he stripped out of the wet clothes, he cast a quick spell to dry his body before putting on Harry's clothes. They didn't fit as well as his own did, certainly, Harry's chest and shoulders were far broader and Draco was quite a bit scrawnier than him, but they didn't look half bad. And more to the point, they were Harry's, so they smelled like him and even looking at them sent a thrill through the pit of Draco's stomach.

"Well," he said, stepping out of the room, "I suppose they'll do."

Harry, who'd been leaning against the wall, stumbled over nothing and nearly fell, choking on a cough as he stared wordlessly at Draco.

"What?" he asked self consciously, looking down at himself.

But Potter was trying to straighten himself, shaking his head. "Nothing," he said. Then he repeated himself, "Nothing."

"Right," Draco said, feeling a strange mix of self consciousness and attractiveness. He had the urge to flirt with the other man, just to see what would happen.

Potter turned and made his way toward the door, Draco followed and tried to decide what he could say or do to attract the other man's attention.

On their way back toward the pool, he saw it, the perfect excuse, dragging his feet just a bit, he let his toes catch on a tree root and let his body tip forward. "Oh!" he cried as he fell, "ouch! My ankle."

Potter was there in an instant, hands fluttering around Draco's sides, "what happened?"

"Oh, I tripped over the tree root and twisted my ankle," he said, holding his leg in the air and showing Potter. "It's probably the heat, I'm just feeling a little faint." He draped an arm over his head to demonstrate how faint he was feeling. He should have gone into acting, he thought ruefully, as Potter tittered over him, concern evident in each action.

Warm, competent hands reached for him, one taking gentle hold of his foot the other grasping his leg just above his ankle. "You're having a terrible go of it," he said, looking up at Draco with those guileless green eyes. "You're never going to want to come to one of my parties again."

Potter's magic washed through him, warm and bright, tingling around his ankle and Draco shivered with delightful anticipation.

"It doesn't seem like anything's broken," he said, "why don't we just go in and let you rest on the sofa." Without another word, he lifted him into his arms like Draco weighed nothing at all, and carried him inside once more.

"Thank you," he said, affecting a bit of helplessness in his voice. "I don't know what's the matter with me today."

"Probably the heat," Potter agreed, setting him down on the couch, rearranging the pillows to prop up Draco's leg. "Let me fetch you a glass of water. Are you in pain?" he asked as he moved toward the kitchen, "can I get you a potion for it?"

"Oh," he said, shaking his head, "I think I'll be fine in a few moments. You've been too kind already. I've been far too much trouble as it is," he demurred.

"Nonsense," Potter said, "You're no trouble at all." He carried the glass of water back to him and sat down on the sofa by Draco's hip.

Draco reached for the glass and took a long drink before letting his fingers skim over Potter's knee on the way to setting it on the table. On the way back, he casually brushed the back of his hand over the other man's thigh.

"Draco," Potter murmured.

"Yes, Potter?" he replied innocently before looking up and meeting his gaze.

The green of his eyes was burning bright and hot, and for just a moment, Draco couldn't breathe.

"Are you actually hurt or can I kiss you?" he asked.

In lieu of answering, Draco reached up and wrapped a hand around Potter's neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss.

A kiss that only got hotter and more desperate, escalating so quickly that before he knew what was happening Potter (and really, he thought wildly, he ought to start calling him Harry at this point) was climbing over him. He pressed him down onto the couch, straddling his hips, as his hands cupped Draco's face to angle it just right to deepen the kiss further. He let his hand stray down the muscular expanse of Potter's back toward his arse, fingertips just slipping below the waistband-

"Shit."

They both turned their heads in time to see that Neville and Blaise were standing in the doorway, gaping at the two of them.

"Sorry," Harry said, and Draco turned his head to find that Harry was looking at him with utter mortification.

And that simply wouldn't do. "Blaise," Draco said, staring straight into Harry's eyes, "be a dear and tell everyone that Potter's party is currently an outdoor only event and that he will no longer be available to attend to anyone's needs."

"Except your's apparently," Blaise said, smirk evident in his voice.

Harry buried his face in Draco's neck in a fit of shyness that Draco couldn't help but find adorable.

He smirked over at the other man, "except mine," he agreed. "Oh, and close the door on your way out."

The door clicked shut and Harry held out a hand, sending a wave of magic to lock it. He pulled back to look at Draco, "so what needs do you have that need attending to?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, come back here and I'm sure I can come up with something," he replied as he pulled the other man's body down and flush against his own.

And it proved that once Harry started, it was all too easy to continue giving him more needs to fulfill.

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

Read more of my fics, if you'd like.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Ron: Okay, are we sure we can do this?

Pansy: Of course, we just have to hack into Draco’s Muggle computer and see what he likes most, so we can get him a good birthday gift. If anything, we’re doing a nice thing for him

Ron: Okay, he got a username and password here

Pansy: Okay, um, try Draco

Ron: Incorrect

Pansy: Shit, okay, um, Malfoy

Ron: Nope

Pansy: Oh! Try Harry

Ron: Harry?

Pansy: Yeah

Ron: Oh look, his username is actually Harry. What about the password?

Pansy: Okay, Harry and Draco, no space

Ron: No

Pansy: Draco and Harry, no space, lowercase

Ron: Nope. I’ll just go and do something crazy here, but…*types Harry*

Pansy: It works!

Ron: His username and his password is Harry?

Pansy: God, he’s so pathetic I almost feel bad

Ron: If it makes you feel better, Harry’s password is Draco

Pansy: Really?

Ron: Yeah, no, it’s “Harry123”

Pansy: …

[basiatlu]

C1 Ron and Draco would delight me if you wanted to do it lol. I love those 2 and any time they interact it is peak drama and it delights me to know end lol

They’re the same person in different fonts, yet also total opposites and it cracks me up imagining them being frenemies

Round 2 on C2 for the Noodle Rat Boys

(Sorry I only gave myself 20 min to draw this!! Messy messy)

[oflights]

my whole thing with the snape redemption arc (beyond it just being poorly written) and harry's reaction to it is just like. when you're a kid and an adult treats you poorly, that's a really hard grudge to shake. especially later when you're an adult and you look back and you're like "that grown ass man hated me, a kid...he should've known better...i'm an adult now and i know better, i would never treat a kid that way"

there just doesn't exist a calculus in my mind that goes "snape was in unrequited love with my mother - low key caused her death - took his guilt and anger out on children + vaguely protected me and contributed to the war effort = he's a hero and i respect him" for harry. it makes no sense!

snape never actually redeemed himself for the harm he caused harry and other kids. the narrative never even attempts to hold him accountable for that and harry is just like "meh he helped when it counted for these loser ass friendzone reasons" and is fine with it.

[t1oui]

remembering when i wrote hp fanfiction in elementary school that was literally just ginny & luna being gay and living their best lives ft a very dramatic love triangle between harry, draco, and ron in the background 💀

[cluelesspigeons]

This is written for the prompt “colourful” from @drarrymicrofic

Word count: 111

Drarry microfic: colourful mess

When it was Draco’s turn to order his drink, Harry’s smile grew a little wider. “Hello again, Draco,” he said happily. “How are you today?”

Draco playfully waved Harry’s words away, and Harry swore he could see the hints of a blush covering his cheeks. Just then, his eyes fell on Draco’s nails. They were a beautifully colourful mess of rainbow colours. “I like your nails.”

Draco followed his gaze, the blush on his cheeks darkening. “Thanks…”

When Draco walked away with his usual matcha latte in hand, Harry couldn’t help the fond smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. Next time, he would give Draco his number for sure.

Prompt from June 27th

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[labcoatsaresexy]

“Only one may climb back out of Hell...”

Covers for starbrigid’s phenomenal Mirror of Eurydice series. The styling is based on on the covers for some of the books on Goodreads, whose creator I was unable to find, but that specific styling was missing for a bunch of the books and so I created them all from scratch using ~*dark magic*~ (a combination of Canva and GIMP). As always, I make these because the Calibre auto-generated covers are fugly and i need better for my kobo, but I post them so other people can enjoy :)

Draco Malfoy and the Mirror of Ecidyrue

Draco Malfoy and the Heir of Slytherin

Draco Malfoy and the House of Black

Draco Malfoy and the Wheel of Hecate

Draco Malfoy and the Talon Brand

Draco Black and the Prisoner of Nurmengard

Draco Black and the Bastard Dragon

Lavvic (/Thin) and Amsterdam Four are the fonts, images are taken from Canva libraries, Wikimedia Commons, creative commons google images, and heavily modified HP wiki files. Remember, fuck joanne and fuck terfs.

[midnightarrow]

So yeah, Harry Potter was the first fandom I ever read fics of. I was very tiny and still hadn't gotten my queerness awareness (lol) so Dramione was my introduction to the beautiful world of fanfictions, but then Drarry happened.

I have lost count of how many hours I spent reading, crying, swearing and swooning over them. It's been more than 10 years, and I never ever had the guts to write about them because, god I love them so much I'm so scared I'm gonna mess it up.

And out of the blue now I am, words are flowing fairly easily even though I've got no clue where they are going. I got no plan, no plot, no nothing.

I don't even know if I'm going to put this on ao3 if I ever manage to finish it, but I'm so happy.

I've had a writers block since 2017. If something was gonna get me out of it, sure as h*ll was gonna be this two f*ckers.

[alltimebibliophile]

Draco: I like my men like I like my coffee..

Harry: ……..

Draco (winking at Harry): Hot, strong and first thing in the morning

Harry (Sputtering his coffee): …..