#harry potter microfic challenge

[struttingstag]

locker room

prompt for may 17th, 2024

Stag Microfic: A James Potter Series [Info & Rules | AO3 Collection | Discord]

[drarrymyheart]

Discord Drabble challenge - Aug 2024

Prompt: Restart

Word count: 137

Potter,

This letter is to express gratitude on behalf of my mother and myself for your speech before the Wizengamot. Although egregiously sanctimonious,—

Potter,

You needn’t have — Why—

I NEVER WANTED YOUR HELP

Potter,

Was one life debt not enough to hold over my head?

I don’t deserve—

You continuously insert yourself into my life until I can think of nothing else. Dreams and waking hours consumed by your green eyes and disfigured face, your back pressed to my chest surrounded by heat and smoke, your arse—

Do all trainee Auror uniforms fit like that or is it just yours that is so tight it’s indecent?

Potter,

What happens now?

Potter,

I don’t think I’ve really hated you for years.

Potter,

Thank you.

-DLM

P.S. Mother has invited you for tea. Saturday 3pm. Don’t be late.

[ecstarry]

Bendy Straws // @fromagony @sixlane

“Would you like one sir?” 

Regulus was ready to give the most intense eye-roll known to mankind when he lifted his head from his book—only to see a kid, no older than eleven, staring eagerly at him with a small box full of colorful bendy straws.

He had a horrible morning and went to a park that was sure to be empty at that time of day. The urge of frustration he felt when his reading got interrupted faded instantly when he realized it was a boy who wanted his attention. The angry, irritable, short-tempered Regulus Black had one soft spot —children. 

“What are you selling?”

“Just some straws. I’m saving up to buy a new controller for my xbox,” the boy smiled widely. 

Regulus put down his book and raised his hips just enough to reach for his wallet. 

“How much for all of them?” 

The boy’s eyes widened. “Really!?”

His enthusiasm reminded him of his goddaughter, Luna. He assumed the boy was probably around her age. Regulus made a mental note of bringing her to the park one day, maybe she could make a new friend. 

“Harry! There you are!” A tall man came rushing over, panting and breathless, before coming to a stop next to the boy.

“Dad! This man offered to buy all of it.” 

The father turned to face Regulus and smiled apologetically and sweetly at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

Regulus blushed at the sound of his voice and the depth of his eyes. He cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s okay, really.” He handed Harry a bill that more than covered the cost of all his merchandise. “They’re for my goddaughter. She’ll love them.”

Regulus must’ve said something right because the man’s eyes softened, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. 

“How old is she?” 

“She’s 11, a very sweet girl.”

“Oh! That’s Harry’s age.” The man responded enthusiastically, he gestured towards the empty space next to Regulus’ on the bench.

“Go ahead.” 

“I’m sorry if this is straight forward, but we just moved here and I would love for Harry to make new friends. Would it be too weird and naive of me to ask for your number so we can arrange a playdate at the park?”

Regulus pondered for a moment, unsure if his trust in this mysterious man was based on any real signs of reliability or simply because he was insanely good-looking and Regulus wanted an excuse to get to know him better.

“Sure.” Two things could be true at the same time. 

“Perfect.” He took out his phone and gave it to Regulus. 

“I’m James.”

“I’m Regulus.” He handed back the phone and their fingers touched. James’ hand was warm, they lingered. He was never one to enjoy the cold. 

“Like the star, I like it.” 

“Yeah, exactly like that.”

[dont-fiddle-with-my-riddles]

june 12 - challenge - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 162

It was always a challenge getting up in the mornings, especially when Regulus was alone. It would take ten pots and pans to wake him up for the first time. The other five times were attempts at throwing him out the window by Barty.

Now, it was worse. Regulus had James now, a blessed sight to see in the morning. James, however, was a right pain in the neck. He wake up, shake Regulus, pout when he didn’t wake up (Regulus felt the shape of his lips change on his neck), and move around till Regulus woke up.

It was, to say the least, annoying. James was an early bird, ready for action at six o’clock in the morning. Regulus was a night owl, doing action till four o’clock in the morning. The two were opposites in a way. But that never got in the way of them spending their morning the right way.

With the two of them outright making out.

[veritas-scribblings]

hold - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 967 [mature: discussions of sex and under-age sex, some references to gender dysphoria]

[follow-up to 'teach', (y)earn universe | because @rayjkss said 'second part' and then this was on my brain all day]

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Barty demands. He drops himself onto the bed opposite Regulus and stares with such intensity that Regulus is forced to look up from the book he’s reading. ‘We need to give it a name. I don’t know what to call it.’

‘Deimos,’ Regulus says. ‘I’ve always liked that name. And in my family, we name things after stars. Granted, it’s one of the moons of Mars, but Narcissa is a flower name, so I think we can bend the rules.’

‘No, I meant your dick.’ Barty says this so bluntly, angrily, that Regulus feels his heart leap into his throat and suddenly he wants to shrink and die on the spot. ‘Evan told me about it.’

Regulus frowns. Because surely Barty isn’t stupid. Evan can’t be that stupid either. So, Regulus doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. Barty seems to be on a different wavelength than he is, which isn’t unusual since Barty is normally on a different wavelength than most people.

Only, Regulus can normally keep up with him. Now, however, Regulus’s world is dust.

Regulus closes the book in his lap with a snap and tries not to close his eyes as well, because Barty looks so angry and frustrated that Regulus wouldn’t be surprised if he started crying. ‘Barty,’ he says in a low voice. ‘I don’t have a dick. I thought you’d realised that from all the times we’ve, well, been naked together.’

Barty flops down onto the bed dramatically, groaning. ‘This is why we need to give it a name,’ he says to the roof. ‘And you’re not calling it Deimos. Because, I fully respect your right to name your own body, but calling it Deimos while we’re in bed will make it feel like there’s three of us.’ And then quieter, sounding almost sad, he says, ‘I didn’t realise it wasn’t good for you. I’m sorry, I thought it was good for you too.’

‘Barty,’ Regulus sighs. ‘Respectfully. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.’

Barty sits up, eyes wide. ‘Sex. I’m talking about sex. According to Evan, you’ve never had an orgasm and I’m doing it all wrong, and I didn’t know! I’m sorry, there aren’t books in the library on “how to have sex” or “how to make sure sex is good” and I just don’t know where to find that sort of information, because it’s not like my parents keep sex guides in the house. I guess I could rob an adult book store, but I just didn’t think I’d need to because I didn’t think I’d need an instruction manual to do this properly!’ 

Oh. 

‘I didn’t realise I needed to draw you a map,’ Regulus says, flushing. 'And you didn't do it all wrong. It felt just fine.' It comes out flat, curt, which makes Barty even more upset. But Regulus just really doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. 

Right now, Regulus wants to know how he can kill Evan without hurting Evan. And maybe only temporarily. Because he’d been pretty damned clear when talking to Evan that the conversation and the contents of it were to remain entirely between the two of them. Forever away from Barty’s ears.

‘I don’t need a map,’ Barty mutters. ‘I just…need to know of its existence.’

Regulus sighs, shuffles back so he’s leaning against his pillows, knees pulled to his chest. He thinks, perhaps, he can set the bed curtains on fire, run away in all the chaos, because he doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now.

The thing is, Regulus has never been uncomfortable about his body around Barty or Evan, not in the way he feels uncomfortable around others. The way he avoids using the Quidditch Change Rooms because he doesn’t like the eyes of others on him, people wondering why he's different.

Regulus trusts Evan and Barty implicitly and has historically been very open with them. Comfortable dressing and undressing around them. Laying in bed together, cuddling, curled up in their little ball of comfort, when there’s been limbs and body parts everywhere. 

But things with Barty are different now. When Barty touches him in a way that isn’t the normal way friends touch each other. Makes Regulus feel in ways friends don’t normally make each other feel. Regulus just doesn’t know how to deal with it, with the topic of his body when he willingly gives Barty access to it. He wants Barty to just know, the way Barty generally just knows everything. 

And Regulus is aware that this is unfair of him, to lay those kind of expectations on Barty. Even Barty can’t just know everything.

Barty shuffles over, wraps an arm around Regulus and curls against him so he’s in Regulus’s arms. He looks up at Regulus, all doe-eyed in what he probably thinks is a ‘seductive’ sort of way, and says with a small smile, ‘Evan says we need to “communicate more”. Apparently communication is important.’ 

‘I hate talking.’

‘Sure, but you love me. And,’ Barty grins, ‘I want to make sure it feels good for you.’

‘It felt fine.’

Barty rolls his eyes and nudges Regulus in his side. ‘It shouldn’t just feel fine. It should feel incredible. Like, the best thing you’ve ever felt. I want to make you feel good too.’

Regulus sighs and slides down so he’s laying on his side, face buried against Barty. The thing is, it’d genuinely felt good. Nice. Sure, he'd been aware that it'd felt nicer for Barty than it had for him. But Regulus hadn’t seen a problem with that, even when Evan had called it a ‘problem’. Because apparently Regulus is not allowed to have, what Evan had called, ‘subpar sex’. 

Regulus nods into Barty’s chest, hoping desperately that Barty intuitively knows (the way Barty naturally seems to know most things) what he means. Regulus will try—he will—to work through this.

[writer-or-whatever]

On The Ground

Wrote a little Harry/Draco pre-relationship piece for prompt #2 (Rival) on my 100 prompts list. Read under the cut or on AO3

Summary: After two years of being rivals in the professional quidditch league, Harry and Draco are both selected for the English National Quidditch Team for the next Quidditch World Cup. They’ve now got to learn to get along.

Rating: T | Word Count: 1.3k | Fluff & Humor

Harry was being ridiculous. He knew this. They were on the same team and there were bigger things at stake than his own pride. But, Merlin, he still could not stand Malfoy. 

Yes, okay, he’d mellowed out a little since the war. And maybe he grew into his obnoxiously blonde hair and his sharp features. And he’s a reformed and productive member of society now or whatever. 

Doesn’t matter. They’re still rivals, Harry reminds himself, repeating it like a mantra in his head as he exits the locker room and heads out to the pitch. 

He wasn’t the last one out of the locker room, but only barely. So when his eyes adjusted to the bright sun, he’s met with twelve of the other players, both starting and reserve, for this year’s English National Quidditch Team. And off to the left side, talking to one of the beaters, is Malfoy. The red and blue of the National Team jersey suits him better than the bright orange Chudley Cannons uniform that Harry’s grown accustomed to seeing him in over the last two seasons. Not that Harry is taken in by the way the blue brings out his eyes or anything. 

Harry is mercifully brought out of his not-at-all-creepy staring by an arm being slung over his shoulders. 

“Come on, Potter. Can’t keep the rest of the team waiting,” Ginny said, grinning and almost vibrating in place with excitement. Making England’s National Team had been Ginny’s childhood dream, and even two seasons of professional quidditch hadn’t dulled her excitement. 

“Right,” Harry agreed, letting her pull him along behind her. 

Upon their arrival, the coach smiled and whistled a shrill sound that jolted everyone to attention. “Right! Okay! Welcome to day one. I want everybody in the air. We’re doing drills until I’m satisfied and then it’s skirmish time.” He whistled again and then they were off. 

Drills were easy. He felt himself relax and start to focus in, paying Malfoy no more mind than any of their other teammates. At least, until they were split up for the first practice match. 

“Alright. We’re going to start with startings versus reserves. We’re going to gradually mix up our combinations as we go. I need all of you flying seamlessly together in any formation, especially if France plays as dirty as they did in the last cup. Except you, keepers and seekers. Some rivalries live to see another day,” Their coach said, giving Malfoy and Harry a look. Their quidditch feud was legendary. It’s at least half of the post-match wireless commentary every time they’ve played in the last two years. “But only on the pitch. I need you two to at least pretend to like each other on the ground,” he continued seriously.

 Harry and Malfoy both gave him a nod and then they were off. 

The practice match was brutal. The starting players were evenly matched with the reserves and everyone played like they were out for blood—Malfoy especially. He played a lot more offensively as a professional seeker than he ever did in school, and, while Harry was used to it after two seasons of fierce competition, he was playing particularly viciously today. Malfoy was as physical of a player as he could possibly be without getting penalized. He jostled Harry when they happened to be flying side by side. He chased the snitch into, around, and even under the other players or pretended to—a feint that caused Harry to very nearly crash headlong into Oliver Wood, who was the starting keeper, in his pursuit of Malfoy. He was, all told, an absolute menace on a broom. 

His strategy did have its merits though, as Malfoy managed to catch the snitch—jostling Harry hard to the left and wrapping his fingers around the ball the second Harry’s were out of the way—ending their three hour practice game. 

Despite Malfoy catching the snitch, the reserve team lost the match by 20 points, a point which their coach commented on—loudly and at length—to both Harry and Malfoy. By the time they were done for the day, Harry’s ears were ringing with the refrain to ‘pay attention to the damn score before you catch the snitch.’

He and Malfoy were the last ones to the locker room. When Harry finally stepped out of his very long shower, everyone else was already gone except for Malfoy, who stood in front of his locker with just a towel around his waist. Harry’s locker was on the opposite side of the aisle, so thankfully he could pull his own clothes out and dress without looking at Malfoy. 

He had no reason to shy away from Malfoy. They hadn’t been truly antagonistic over anything but Quidditch in several years. Harry didn’t exactly like him, but he’d grown out of the horrible kid he’d known at school. And it wasn’t like Malfoy was the first fit bloke that Harry had shared a locker room with since he figured out he was gay. There was absolutely no reason for him to be this nervous around him, wanting to sneak glances at the other man while simultaneously wanting to be looking elsewhere at all times. Harry was twitchy and awkward as he pulled on his jeans, t-shirt, and trainers, resolutely not turning around to where he could hear Malfoy doing the same. Once he was dressed, he shouldered his bag and started toward the door, forcing himself not to look over at Malfoy on his way out. 

He was out of the locker and almost to the floo when a voice stopped him. 

“Potter! Hold on a second!” Malfoy called as he jogged to catch up with him. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry said, though it lacked venom. 

“Come get a drink with me,” Malfoy said as he stopped next to Harry. He was still a little damp, and some of his long hair was still wet and clinging to his neck. Not that Harry was looking or anything. 

“Er-,” Harry said as his brain short-circuited. “I thought about maybe grabbing some dinner with Ginny.” He definitely had not been. He was going to go home, get enough take-away to make the team’s nutritionist a little bit crazy, and watch The Weakest Link on the charmed television that he bought recently. 

“Planning on crashing your ex’s date with her girlfriend are you?” Malfoy said with a laugh. 

Harry blushed as he remembered that Luna and Ginny were going to a fancy celebration dinner. Ginny had gushed to him the day before about how Luna had arranged a portkey to Paris for dinner and a fancy night out. “How did you know about that?” 

“I helped Luna plan it,” Malfoy said with a bright smile. 

“Right.” Harry had forgotten that Malfoy and Luna were friends. They’d gotten close after the war ended. Harry just happened to miss every pub outing or game night hosted by Luna where Malfoy had been invited too. He’d been busy is all. 

“Right. So. Drinks?” 

“Won’t it be weird?” Harry blurted out, unable to think up a reasonable reason to say no.

Malfoy shrugged, though he was still smiling. “Maybe. But you heard what coach said—you have to at least pretend to like me while we’re on the ground. So come get a drink with me and practice.” 

Harry bit his lip lightly as he looked at Malfoy, who looked earnest enough. It didn’t sound like a horrible way to spend the evening and Malfoy had a point—they were teammates now. 

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy said after a moment of silence from Harry. “It’s just a drink. I don’t bite.” 

“Of course not, Malfoy.” 

“Alright then. You, me, drinks at the 3 Broomsticks.” 

“Yeah, alright, Malfoy,” Harry agreed with a smirk. “But you’re buying the first round.” 

“Fine,” Malfoy replied with a smirk of his own.  

[ginnyw-potter]

Chapter 10: You wouldn't understand

“How is it going, lads?” Ginny asked as she walked up to the group, coming to stand beside Harry.

“Is it me,” Michael asked her. “Or are you the only one who has permission to talk to a man tonight?”

“Correct,” Ginny said with a smile. “That’s not exactly what she said but you know...”

“Ah, Gwenog. She rules with an iron first.” Michael shook his head warily.

“Weasley!” Livvy said and then jabbed her in the ribs, making her jump almost a foot into the air.

Harry stabilised her with a laugh. “Careful.”

“There he goes,” Robert commented dramatically. “That girl falls and suddenly we don’t exist anymore.”

Harry scoffed. “Come on, Robert. Can you blame me?”

Full chapter: AO3/FFN

[daydreamingfoxglove]

@microficmay day 8, prompt: will, words: 111, ship: drarry, rating: G, additional challenge: 'a' and 'an' not used

_ _ _

Warm flames from the candle chandelier cast subtle shadows on the brick walls and hardwood floor of the eighth-year common room. Harry perched on the couch facing the mantel, the gentle flickering sparks beneath it painting Draco's hair in crimson hues.

Draco looked up then, and Harry flushed. He darted his eyes to the chessboard between Draco and Ron, both seated on the floor in front of the fireplace. Harry looked back at Draco mere seconds later to find him smiling.

Draco leaned against Harry's couch and rested his head on the side of Harry's knee. Harry dropped his hand into Draco's hair, his calloused fingers running through long, silky strands.

_ _ _

A series of microfics telling a nonlinear story. All parts on A03

[sapphicmicrofics]

HP Sapphic Microfics: August Prompts

These prompts can be taken and interpreted every which way you want, including changing the tense or pronouns or order of any dialogue. You do not have to stick with what might be the most straightforward association, and every individual prompt post will include a few suggestions to get you started.

All these prompts can be combined with other events (as long as they also allow you to combine prompts), such as @sapphicmarauding and @weasley-jumpers!

You are still allowed to write for any of the previous months’ prompts!

The rules for this event can be found here, the previously submitted fics are all here and in this collection on AO3, and if you want to search them by ship you can do so here!

Sapphic Microfics is hosted by @hpsaffics, whose discord server holds a specific channel where these prompts and the incoming fics are excitedly discussed, so if you’re looking for people to talk about these and the rest of June’s prompts with, check them out! (The server is 18+, keep that in mind!)

Prompts:

Panicked

Wand

Lavender

Lies

Diamonds

Emergency

Scream

Skinny Dipping

Cooking

Haunted

Teacup

Rain

Weapon

Hands

Diagon Alley

Pearls

Wound

Missing

"Where are you going?"

Coffeeshop

Hopeful

Whisky

Handcuffs

Poppies

Eyeliner

Notorious

Midnight

Scared

Garden

Desk

Gossip

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Over 30 Years Old

Words: 795

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

“We’ll meet back here at 4:30,” Sirius said to the crowd of teenagers. “If you’re not back then, we’ll leave you to fend for yourself in Berlin forever and we all know your German isn’t good enough for that.”

Remus shook his head, “What Mr Black means is, be here for 4:15 to be safe. We have a flight to catch and we can’t be late.”

“Same difference,” Sirius said under his breath.

“Ok, you’re free to go. Bis später!” Remus had barely finished his sentence before the students dispersed noisily. He turned to Sirius, “I take issue with your assessment of their German skills.”

“You would say that. You teach them.” Sirius shrugged with a smug smile. “You think they’d be able to fend for themselves?”

“Oh, fuck no. But I’m allowed to say it. You’re not.” He looked down the street, “What are your plans for the day?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr Lupin?”

“I was thinking more, ‘Where should I avoid?’,” Remus chuckled as Sirius’ face dropped. “I was planning on going to the Museum der Dinge, the Museum of Things. They have all sorts of cool stuff.” He shrugged, “And then I was thinking I’d go over to the Tiergarten to the Denkmal für die im Nationalsozialismus verfolgten Homosexuellen.” He paused as Sirius looked baffled. “It’s a memorial for the gay people persecuted by the Nazis.”

Sirius’ brain had been letting him down frequently on this trip. Every time Remus spoke German his mind just went blank, and as Remus was a German teacher currently leading a school trip in Germany, he was spending a lot of time willing his brain to just do something. “Mind if I join you?”

“Worried about your ability to fend for yourself here?” He looked at Sirius fondly.

“Ja.” Sirius muttered, defeated.

“I’ll translate for you in the museum if you find me a decent cup of tea.” Remus said, “But you have to order it in German.”

Sirius blanched, “I never even took German at school, this is unfair.”

“I’ll teach you on the way, come on.” He pressed his hand to Sirius’ lower back, and Sirius was sure he'd melt into a puddle or disappear into a puff of smoke, some kind of state change for sure, until Remus guided them towards a small café down a sidestreet.

***

“Uh, Hallo.” Sirius started, knowing that Remus probably couldn’t hear him, but determined to do this. “Haben Sie Earl Grey?”

“Ja, eine Tasse oder eine Kanne?” The barista spoke slowly.

“Um, eine Tasse? Bitte?” He frowned, “Und ein großer Americano, bitte. Danke.”

He paid and grabbed milk and sugar for Remus. When he sat down the other man was smiling at him and the whole awkward transaction was suddenly worth it.

“I didn’t think you’d do it.”

“I like a challenge,” Sirius said, with a glint in his eye.

“Evidently.” Remus held his gaze. “What possessed you to chaperone this trip when you don’t speak German?”

“The drama trips are always so… dramatic.” He laughed, “So much teen angst. Plus, the other arts teachers are fairly dull.”

“And I’m not?”

“No, you’re fascinating.” Sirius wasn’t sure who was blushing more. “I mean— Oh, shit. I mean that I think you’re an interesting person.” Remus tilted his head, willing him to say more. “And you’re, y’know…” He gestured at Remus.

“A single, bisexual man in his thirties who wears oversized jumpers so he can pull the sleeves over his hands?” Remus grinned, “A grown-ass man who collects Lego?”

“You collect Lego?” Sirius laughed, “Why aren’t we going to the Lego Store then?”

“I figured students would be more likely to go there than a museum and a park.” Remus said quietly, “I figured you’d be tagging along.”

“You didn’t want students to see us together?” Sirius was slowly piecing things together but felt like he was maybe misreading, “I hate to tell you, but I think they know that we’re both on the trip.”

Remus shot him a withering look. “Arschgeige…”

Sirius suspected that wasn’t a compliment. “We could go to the Lego Store first and be super professional and then we can go to your museum and park, but…” He reached across the table, pulled back Remus’ sleeve, and put his hand over his, “You might need to hold my hand so you don’t lose me in the museum.”

Remus pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh, willing his heart to stop pounding in his chest, “Smooth.” He laced his fingers into Sirius’, “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

They hadn’t clocked the small group of Year 11 students sat in a booth, two of whom groaned as they reached for their phones to transfer money to the other two.

***

Translations 😬😬 they’re maybe right 😂

Bis später - See you later

Denkmal für die im Nationalsozialismus verfolgten Homosexuellen - Memorial to Homosexuals Persecuted Under Nazism

Haben Sie Earl Grey? - Do you have Earl Grey?

Ja, eine Tasse oder eine Kanne? - Yes, a cup or a pot?

Um, eine Tasse? Bitte? Und ein großer Americano, bitte. Danke. - Um, a cup? Please? And a large Americano, please. Thanks.

Arschgeige - Arse violin

If you saw this before I deleted and reposted because I realised that Remus would never teach Sirius the informal way to ask for tea, no you didn’t. 🥲🥲🥲

[microficmay]

Microfic Challenges!

Here are some microfic challenges that you are welcome to combine with the 2024 prompts for @microficmay 🥰

Ongoing:

@drarrymicrofic - Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

@hinnymicrofic - Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

@snarrymicrofics - Harry Potter/Severus Snape

@remadoramicrofics - Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks

@wolfstarmicrofic - Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

@moonwatermicrofics - Remus Lupin/Regulus Black

@prongsfoot-microfic - James Potter/Sirius Black

@jegulus-microfic - James Potter/Regulus Black

@jilymicrofics - Lily Evans Potter/James Potter

@pandalilymicrofics - Lily Evans Potter/Pandora Lovegood

@rosekillermicrofic - Barty Crouch Jr/Evan Rosier

@struttingstag - James Potter

@sapphicmicrofics - HP femslash

@marauders-rarepair-fics - Marauders rare pairs

@microcest - incest (multi-fandom)

On Hiatus:

@sapphicmarauding - Marauders femslash

@hpmicrofic - all HP ships or gen

[hpcottagecorefest]

HP Cottagecore Fest 2023

HP Cottagecore Fest is a Harry Potter cottagecore themed prompt challenge. It'll run Sept 4th - Oct 1st. 🧺🧺🧺

Rules & Guidelines - here or here

There will be prompts for each week under three categories: color, word, and picture.

◦ Create a work that corresponds to each prompt.  ◦ You may combine all three categories or any combination thereof.   ◦ You may also combine prompts from any other week. For example, you may use a prompt from week 1 and a prompt from week 3 together in one single work.  ◦ Interpret the prompts however you like! You don’t need to strictly stick to them or feel the need to include the colors/words/settings directly into your work.

All medium types are welcomed! 

◦ Fic: no word limit. It can be a short 50 words microfic, a one-shot, or a long multi-chaptered work.  ◦ Art: any medium! Nothing is restricted here.  ◦ Podfic: must have the original author’s permission.  ◦ Moodboards, crafts, book bindings, embroidery and then some are ALL allowed. If you can dream it, then so be it!

Here are the links to the prompts:

Week One (September 4th - September 10th) Week Two (September 11th - September 17th) Week Three (September 18th - September 24th) Week Four (September 25th - October 1st)

All eras, genres, ships, characters, Harry Potter associated media and then some are allowed.

We follow fandom rules around here - YKINMKBYKIO (Your Kink is Not My Kink, But Your Kink is Okay), DLDR (Don’t Like;Don’t Read) and SALS (Ship and Let Ship). 

Here’s the link to the AO3 collection. Please tag works with ‘HP Cottagecore Fest 2023’ in the additional tags field.

If you are submitting a Mature or Explicit work, you must be 18+. 

Please tag your work accordingly, e.g. dark themes, mature content, violence, etc. 

If you want the blog to reblog your work, please tag @hpcottagecorefest and #hpcottagecorefest2023.

If you have any questions, send an ask! Or you can email at hpcottagecoremod@gmail.com

And, most importantly, have fun!

[veritas-scribblings]

video - @jartylusmicrofics - words: 1,343 [explicit / NSFW]

[inspired by this post by @thatcoolguyeli]

The conference had been such a ‘drag’, as Barty would put it. Davide Bastelli, CEO of Bastelli Group, is a monolith of a man with impressively sculptured facial hair and little personality to speak of. He’s not so much grey, in any sense of the word. He’s more rough, chiselled slate stone—impressive to look at, expensive to purchase, but really that’s all. Even his accent, the lyrical way in which Italians speak that normally makes James a little weak at the knees, hadn’t been enough to counteract the aggressive boredom.

Actually, James had spent a ridiculous amount of the meeting trying to subdue his violent urges; a side effect, he thinks, of all the time he’s been spending around Barty. It had been around the one hour and fifty minute mark when James’s thoughts had taken a drastic swerve away from blood and gore and battered fists, courtesy of a text message from RegulusBarty.

There’s this game that Barty and Regulus like to play. It had started, Regulus says, when they were in school and he had admitted to Barty that he watches strangers simply existing and invents stories for them. Imagines who they are, their days and their lives, what adventures they’re going on and where they’re going on these adventures, and who they’re in love with and out of live with. And in his darker times, when they’ll die and how they’ll die and who they’ll leave behind.

Of course, Barty (being Barty) and taken this game and started to wonder what these strangers are like when they’re naked, when they’re having sex. What turns them on, what they’re freaks and unique kinks are, who they’ve recently had sex with, when they lost their virginity, what their O-face looks like, who would be their free pass.

James reckons that Bastelli is straight. As straight as an arrow, because no man that dull could possibly bend. It would be an insult to gays and lesbians and bisexuals and queers everywhere. Bastelli, James reckons, is a real sub in his sex life. There is no way he would wear the pants in any romantic dynamic. No man that tightly wound, that in control of himself, could ever continue to be so in bed. Bastelli for sure gets off on being dominated, and Barty and Regulus would have loved the challenge.

This is how Barty and Regulus had snared James. Because Barty had said to James that he strikes him as someone who is ‘vanilla in real life and an absolute freak in the sheets’ and had determinedly pursued confirmation. That’s Barty’s running theory: that the dullest people in real life are the filthiest in bed. James doesn’t think of himself as a vanilla sort of person, though he does like to think he’s a generous and creative lover.

He shrugs his jacket off, drops his bag by the door, stumbles over to the bed and falls face-first into the softness of the quilt and the sheets and the feather-down pillows. The Bastellis are filthy rich—Black Family Empire rich—and have put him up in the penthouse suite of what is likely a thousand-euros-plus-a-night luxury hotel in the heart of Milan. There is a fully stocked bar. A huge spa in the bathroom decked out with whirlpool features. A media room with a huge squashy couch and a thin-as-paper-big-as-the-wall television. A full kitchen with stainless steal premium appliances.

The bed is huge. King-sized. Enough room for James to comfortably fit three people, not that he has anyone to currently share it with. For the fourth time that afternoon, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out with a groan. The phone and the thought of what was in those messages being sent to him have plagued him all day. Ever since he had made the mistake of opening the first photo that Barty had sent using Regulus’s phone, and he’d seen Regulus spread out naked on their bed.

And the blood in James had rapidly drained south. And he’d had to quickly hide his phone, because he’d been sitting in the conference at the time right next to Bastelli’s personal assistant, who is nosy enough to have tried to sneak a glance.

James has all the plans of strangling Barty when he gets back, and not in the kinky sort of way either, because Barty would eat that shit up. It’ll be strangling in the ‘I’m going to actually murder you’ sense of the word. Because it’s day five, and James is tired and lonely and sexually frustrated. And Barty obviously knows this, because he’s spent the last five days sending James explicit photos with sentences like, ‘wish you were here’ and ‘thinking of you’.

And now James is ready to cut the business trip short and fly back home so he can join in, because he wantswantswants. Fuck the Bastelli luxury portfolio. James has other, more important, business to attend to.

It’s not a photo this time. It’s a video. James knows he shouldn’t open it; he probably should just delete it. Watching it will not solve his problem, nor will it do him any good. As it is, his trousers already feel so tight and, laying face down on the bed, the friction against his arousal is doing things for him. With a sigh, James flips over, toes off his shoes and socks and pulls his trousers off, discarding them by the foot of his bed. He reaches down to palm himself through his pants, a groan caught in his throat. He’s wanted to do this for hours now.

Realistically, James has always been the curious sort, the sort with impulse control issues. He thumbs the video open and is immediately greeted by the sound of skin rustling against a microphone. The movement of the camera is so shaky and blurry that James has no idea what’s going on—no, actually, he does—though he does recognise their bedroom.

When all the movement in the video stills, the phone having been rested on what’s likely the dresser, Barty gives him a shit-eating ‘cat who got the cream’ grin. He’s on all fours, staring into the camera, his erection full, glistening and hanging heavy between his legs. He’s sweaty and messy enough that James can tell they’ve been doing things for a while now. He can just imagine how it had all gone down: they’d been in the middle of something and either Barty or Regulus had stopped and said, ‘oh hey, let’s film this so James doesn’t feel left out.’ James wouldn’t put it past them to think that they’re actually being considerate.

In the video, Barty glances over his shoulder at Regulus, who is laid out on the bed behind him, his knees spread open so he can comfortably work his fingers into himself. Barty turns back to the camera and says with a breathy laugh, ‘we didn’t want you to feel left out.’

James quickly dumps the phone aside so he can loosen his tie and pull his shirt off. In his haste, he becomes tangled and tugs and struggles and squirms, and when he finally gets the shirt off his glasses go with it and he cries out in sheer frustration.

He can hear familiar noises coming from the phone. Regulus’s moans, which are always ‘from the depth of his chest’ deep, and Barty cursing up a storm, his pure and creative obscenities. James yanks his pants off and throws them onto the floor, and finally settles back against the pillows, his glasses securely in place so he can clearly see Barty on his knees, Regulus reaching behind to hold onto the headboard, Barty holding onto Regulus’s hips as he thrusts into him.

Lip caught between his teeth, James fists his leaking cock, works his hand up and down his length, squeezes firmly at the base because he knows he’s not going to last. The video is just over eight minutes long and James has every intention of seeing it through.

[starchaserwrites]

hi hi hiii!

i’ve been a bit busy lately and that's why i haven’t been active here, but let me offer a compilation of all my february microfics that i wrote for the jegulus challenge in case you wanna take a look at them again!

i’m Presentimiento on ao3 and i’ll be posting all my future fics there!

love,

len✨

[ginnyw-potter]

Chapter 22: Holyhead Harpies' semi-final

“Ginny?” Livvy softly pushed Ginny’s locker closed and looked at her. “Have you been thinking about it?”

She glanced at Livvy. “I really don’t want to talk about it. We get enough attention as it is.”

“Understood.” Livvy took mascara out of her locker and quickly put it on in the mirror she had hung on her locker door. “A girl’s way to her heart is through her vagina,” she said imitating Gwenog’s threatening voice as she applied mascara. “Keeping our legs shut is the only way to win the Cup.”

Ginny burst out laughing and bumped into Livvy, who ended up with a thick black streak up to her eyebrow. She laughed too, catching Ginny as she fell into her. They collapsed back on the bench.

“I don’t remember signing up for the celibacy club,” Ginny said, unscrambling herself from Livvy.

“Gwenog’s insistence to stay away from Quidditch players is really difficult, as if that’s not the one type of man that we have a ton in common with,” Livvy said, cleaning up the black streak. “And they’re so fit.”

Full chapter: AO3/FFN

[jamesunderwater]

Tidbits:

you can call me james or jamie. trans, autistic, adhd, witch, writer.

multi-fandom blog run by a multi-shipper. my main fandoms are: avatar the last airbender, legend of korra, marauder's era harry potter, doctor who, she-ra and the princesses of power, percy jackson, & bbc merlin

i do write and post smut, just as a content warning. minors be warned.

don't put up with transphobia/terf/transmed shit, racism, antisemitism, ableism, sexism, and the like.

itsjamespotter on ao3

**for anyone triggered by harry potter content, i try to tag all harry potter related posts with #hp, so you can block that tag**

Tumblr Fic Tags:

Jily

Prongsfoot

Dorlene

Smut

AO3 Highlighted Fics

Dead to Me [playlist] [tag] - 91,625 words - jily, angst, hurt/comfort

I saw a quote once that said: "How many times have I loved a thing, just because you loved it? Including me." This story is about love, but is not to be confused with a love story. It's about the love we should have had. The love we don't think we deserve. The crooked love we settle for. It is about how, in letting others love us, we learn to love ourselves.

Call and Response - 6,685 words - first war, hurt/comfort, minor jily

A series of vignettes showcasing how, despite his own personal tragedies, James Potter never fails to show up for the ones he loves – which might be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. Set in a world where James and Lily never got together in school, the Marauders, now twenty, are fighting in the Order at the height of the war. Consider this my love letter to James “would have died rather than betray his friends,” “would have regarded it the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends,” “until the very end” Potter.

Risky Behaviour - 997 words - canon jily awkward smut

Lily is determined not to get distracted during rounds again. Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Prompt 27: Risk banner by @eastwindmlk! <3

The Couch Chronicles - 3,118 words - canon jilypad fluff

written for the lovely @annabtg as part of @jilymicrofics's 2024 Jily Gift Exchange, and inspired by this fanart.

Jily Microfics, Feb 2024: An Academic Rivals Montage - 6,550 words - canon-compliant Jily, pre-relationship

Witness as James comes to terms with all of Lily Evans's levels, and Lily comes to terms with what is most likely not a heart murmur.

Bring Your Kid to Work Day(s Never End When Your Godfather is Sirius Black) - 2,012 words - good godfather sirius black

Written for Good Godfather Sirius Black Fest. Day 11, prompt: bring your kid to work day.

Just This Once - 6,196 words - jily, muggle au, gratuitous smut

When they were teenagers, James Potter promised his best friend, Sirius Black, that he would never, ever touch his sister. Lily Evans promised herself long ago that she would never, ever give into her feelings for her brother's best friend. But maybe…just this once?

Completed Fics August '23 - Present

Jily: An Unexpected Ally - 910 words - canon-divergent trans James Potter, cw: transphobia

When James gets outed as trans by Snape, everyone starts treating him differently. Everyone except Sirius, Remus, and Peter, of course - and, to his surprise...Lily Evans.

Prongsfoot: where you belong - 1,207 words - canon-divergent trans prongsfoot, hurt/comfort(ish)

Sirius is finally moving into the boys' dorm room, where he belongs. Written in celebration of Trans Day of Visibility <3

The Potters/Jily: The Raven-Haired Prince - 1,630 words - Potter family fluff, fix-it fic

He's just a little boy who wants a bedtime story - but no, not like that, and wait, it must include this, and above all, never forget, the prince must be raven-haired. Written for @jilychallenge March Challenge: Fairytales

Jily: Dying Fires - 2,146 words - canon pre-relationship jily, hurt/comfort

In fifth year, James attempts to comfort Lily by a dying fire - but finds this will require restraint on his part in a number of ways.

Dorlene: Promises to Keep - 1,142 words - dorlene; canon first war; angst

Marlene and Dorcas have run out of ways to say goodbye.

Jily: Sweet Seventeen - oneshot - 792 words - canon school years, fluff

James is dating an older woman. She loves snow. He loves... well, it's too soon to say it.

Prongsfoot: here comes a thought - oneshot - 634 words - psychiatric unit AU

sirius is just one of those kids you can't fix. no one has ever thought otherwise. until james potter.

Jily: you are my heaven - oneshot - 1,815 words - soulmates AU, jily reincarnated

What, you thought all they got was a few years together? this is for anyone who has watched what dreams may come (1998) and it's a wonderful life (1946) and is also a pisces. 'cause you get it.

Jily: Happy Holiday, You Filthy Potters - oneshot - 6,098 words - fix it fic, jily never died AU, married smut

"jily christmas family fluff!" but with sex on the stairs.

Prongsfoot: "truth is i'm so damn in love with you i don't know what to do with myself" - oneshot - 804 words - canon first war, one bed

prongsfoot + near death experiences + trapped with only one bed + gay pining

Prongsfoot: "you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that" - oneshot - 1,017 words - muggle AU, transmasc Sirius Black, bathroom smut

prongsfoot + a locked door public bathroom on my knees trying to make you scream vibe

Prongsfoot: not going anywhere - oneshot - 2,341 words - song fic, canon death, grief

when they were boys, james potter made sirius black a promise. and not even death can make james potter break his promises.

Prongsfoot: i don't even know where you end and i begin - oneshot - 482 words - first war, canon death, grief

Remember when we were such fools? And so convinced, and just too cool? I wish I could touch you again. I wish I could still call you, friend. I'd give anything.

Jily: Tall Dark and Glasses - oneshot - 3,292 words - coffee shop AU, fluff

Tall Dark and Glasses (or TDG as he is more affectionately known) is the mysterious, painfully good-looking stranger who has been frequenting Lily's favorite coffee shop for months now. But despite having an embarrassing acronym for him, Lily, a burned out STEM major, is too comfortable being a wallflower to go up to him herself. Thank god for playing cards, I guess.

Prongsfoot: I Only Breathe When You Breathe - oneshot - 643 words - first war, angst, hurt/comfort

Sirius and James and a nearly fatal order mission. Don't worry, it isn't gay at all.