#scorbus prompt

[willdarknessdivideblog]

Here’s another Scorbus fanfic for you this lovely evening, you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60282223/chapters/154109584

artist: upthehillart

[wizard-runes]

@valleyian’s Cursedtober Day 13: Expecto Patronum 🐦‍⬛

"Scorpius looked up and understood the source of the blue light. A silvery creature was swirling around above him... It was a raven patronus swooping in circles around Scorpius’ head. It fluttered down to rest on his shoulder, the warm feeling increasing when it did so... Scorpius reached up to stroke the raven and, although he couldn't feel anything, the silvery bird leaned into his touch as Scorpius spoke to it." - Chapter 17 of @littlerose13writes' fic Sweeter than Fiction

[hp-flowers]

Another Season of Flora!

Okie dokie! According to a quick interest check, we're gonna move forward with some new prompts for spooky season! Wahoo! 🎉🌻🎃 The Autumn Mini Round runs from Oct. 1 - Oct. 31, 2024. As a refresher, this open prompt challenge is inspired by floriography, the language of flowers (and plants) and encourages creators to use text and photo prompts to make fic, art and more. General challenge info and timeline will be the same as last year, so please be sure to read the Mini Round Guidelines and the challenge FAQ thoroughly, whether you're a returning participant or you're trying the challenge for the first time. A reminder that this challenge is open to all HP ships and creative mediums (such as fic, art, podfic, bookbindings, crafts and whatever else!). Creators can also combine the newest 2024 prompts with any prompts from previous rounds. Have fun using flowers and plants from the prompts card catalogue! Prompt cards officially drop on September 27th, so stay tuned for more deets! If you have a question that isn’t covered by this post or either of the above pages, feel free to ask! Get excited!

[scorbusdefensesquad]

Scorpius calling Albus 'Scowlbus' whenever he is in a grumpy mood.

[littlerose13writes]

Three Plaits by littlerose13

a Potter-Malfoy family drabble

“She’s got a temperature.” Scorpius tapped his wand to turn off the thermometer charm.

“I knew it,” Albus sat down on the bed too, looking like he was moments from catastrophizing their daughter’s slight cold into something much more dramatic. 

“My neck’s got itches in,” Matilda said, sadly pointing at her throat, Prawn tucked under her arm. 

“Oh, darling.” Albus scooted closer to her and pushed the blonde baby hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face. He froze, his hand still on her forehead and turned to Scorpius in concern. “Scor, she’s burning hot.”

Scorpius sighed and added the back of his hand to her head. Matilda went cross eyed looking up at her dads’ hands. 

“She’s not burning,” he tried to say but Albus had moved his hand to her cheeks, which were rosier than normal. 

“Shall I call my mum?” 

Scorpius frowned. “I’m sure she’ll be over it by next week and we’ll still be able to go to your parents for-” He stopped and gave Albus a look. “You mean to ask her what to do?”

Albus removed his hand from Matilda’s face and looked guilty. “Not that you don’t know what to do! Or that I don’t trust you or… or anything like that.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes fondly. “I get it, when you were ill as a child your mum looked after you.” 

Albus sighed. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” He reached over and stroked her hair. “Your Dada’s a Healer, he knows what you need.”

Matilda leaned against him, looking glum.

“What you need is some of Daddy’s Pepperup potion,” Scorpius explained. 

“Swawberry?” she asked hopefully. 

Scorpius knew full well that if they didn’t have any strawberry left Albus would be in his workshop brewing a new batch of children’s Pepperup potion for her within minutes, but he nodded.

“There’s loads of strawberry.” 

He’d firmly ensconced himself in Matilda’s bed at this point, her snuggled under the pale purple covers in pyjamas patterned with nifflers and rainbows (hand me downs from Pippa) and Albus atop them, his jeans stiff in comparison and a small hole in the toe of his left sock. They were both silhouetted against the headboard of Matilda’s bed, which was white and fluffy and in the shape of a cloud and had taken Scorpius and Lily hours to make for her third birthday present and Scorpius was taken with how alike they were starting to look; Matilda had Albus’ straight nose and her little cheeks were a soft version of his angled jawline. 

“I’m warming up the Pepperup then, I assume,” he said with a small sigh. 

“I can do it, if you want,” Albus replied, not moving an inch. 

Scorpius laughed. “Yeah, that would be great actually.” 

Albus’ eyes were closed, his arm around Matilda who was using his chest as a pillow, her thumb in her mouth and a tiny strand of her own hair held in her fist with Prawn; it was a habit she’d developed but her hair wasn’t long enough to reach when it was in a ponytail. 

Scorpius sighed fondly and left the room, padding downstairs in his slippers to Albus’ workshop to source some strawberry Pepperup. He brought it out into the kitchen and pulled the smallest cooking cauldron they owned down to the stove top, lighting it with his wand and emptying the potion into the cauldron. It was self stirring so he left it going and pottered about the place, tidying away some of Matilda’s toys and straightening up the placemats and coasters on the kitchen table. 

A soft miaow brought his attention to the front door, where Midnight was rolling around on the doormat with a feather in her paws. Scorpius grimaced and went over to investigate, hoping she hadn’t brought another dead bird into the house (Matilda had been so upset the last time) but quickly realised the feather had come from inside one of the sofa cushions. 

He stroked Midnight and she purred appreciatively. She was growing rapidly, barely a kitten anymore, although Matilda still proudly told anyone who would listen about her baby kitten cat from Papa. When his dad had accidentally adopted an unknowingly pregnant cat from Dotty and Angelica, he gifted Matilda one of the jet black kittens, which Albus thought was sweet and Scorpius knew was a ploy to get one up on Harry, who had built Matilda a small treehouse last Christmas. 

Midnight followed Scorpius back to the kitchen, where the Pepperup was gently warm on the stove. He transferred it to Matilda’s favourite cup (a water dragon curled up sleeping beside a pond) and carefully carried it upstairs, Midnight still at his feet.

“Potion for our poorly poppet,” he said, pushing open the door to find Albus with a book open straight up above both their heads, reading enthusiastically.

He paused and looked over at the door. “Looks like Midnight wanted to see if you were okay, Tils.” 

Matilda tried to crane her neck over at the door but Midnight must have been too far down for her to see. 

“Here you go, this will make you feel better.” 

Together they sat her up in bed, Albus propping her pillows up behind her and Scorpius tucking her duvet tighter around her legs. She drank the potion and did a funny sort of shudder as the warming sensation ran through her body. Albus’ children’s version was much gentler than the original recipe. 

“Do you think she’ll be well enough to go to the P A R T Y?” Albus murmured. 

Scorpius felt doubtful. “Not while she’s running a fever like this. We should owl Teddy and Vic.” 

Albus’ eyebrows shot up but it was too late.

“Teddy and Vic,” Matilda said sleepily. “Rufus got a party today.” 

Scorpius sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. “Sorry,” he mouthed at Albus.

“I want free plaits, Daddy,” Matilda said, carefully concentrating on holding up three fingers to Albus. 

“I… don’t know if you have enough hair for three, darling.” 

Matilda nodded defiantly. “Yes I do!” 

“We might have to put the third one in Daddy’s hair,” Scorpius said, hoping he could move the subject on from Rufus’ birthday party. 

Albus self-consciously tightened the messy bun his long hair was in. “No. No plaits for Daddy today.” 

Matilda giggled, pulling back her covers and reaching up to rub her hands all over Albus’ hair. “Yes! Free plaits for Daddy’s hair!” 

“Daddy did not agree to this,” Albus said, laughing as her hands scrabbled about the top of his head, bouncing on the bed on her knees. 

Scorpius laughed. “The potion’s working already.”

“Yes, it’s very good, I know the potioneer personally.” 

“Can I wear my blue party dress?” Matilda put in.

They exchanged glances, wordlessly having the conversation do you want to tell her or shall I? 

“Darling, my sweetheart,” Albus stalled, pulling Matilda onto his lap and looking at Scorpius to continue. He widened his eyes and shook his head. “Well, the thing is, darling, when you’re poorly like this, you can’t go to parties.”

Matilda froze in his lap, her lips pressed together in disbelief. She stared at Albus with an expression of great betrayal and looked immediately at Scorpius instead. 

“It’s true, princess. You have to stay at home and get all better.” 

Her bottom lip quivered and Albus cuddled her into him. “I know it’s disappointing, petal. But-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a loud cry from Matilda. Albus looked pained as he held her tightly. 

“I… want… Papa,” she managed to say between noisy sobs.

Scorpius bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing as Albus looked confused. 

“You want… Papa?” 

“Because he always says yes,” Scorpius sighed. “Matilda, even Papa would say no to going to a party when you’re not very well.” 

“He isn’t!” Matilda insisted tearfully. “Papa isn’t say no!” 

“Why don’t we see if Papa can come round instead?” Albus said invitingly. 

“Erm, no,” Scorpius said urgently. “He’s in France, remember?” he hissed. 

Albus blanched and hurried to correct his offer. “Or Granny and Grandpa!” He stopped and took on a thoughtful expression. “Although I suppose they’ll be at the… how about we bake a cake to send to Papa?” he offered randomly instead.

Matilda shook her head and flopped dramatically face first onto her bed in disappointment, sighing loudly. 

“You didn’t finish your book!” Scorpius offered, picking it up. 

Matilda shook her head again, still pressed up against the covers of her bed. 

“What would you like to do? Inside the house,” Albus added hurriedly. 

She lifted her head and eyed them both carefully. “Free plaits,” she said, once again holding up three fingers. 

Scorpius saw his husband eye Matilda’s fine, wispy hair in apprehension. 

He nodded. “Three plaits it is.” 

[alscorposting]

what do i even draw for the medicine prompt …

[blue--ingenue]

Scorbus - "Dear Soulmate"

Based on this prompt:

Author's Note: i've finally finished with this request from the wonderful @abbie-scorbus01. i'm so sorry this took so very long 😭i hope you enjoy! [Title taken from the Laufey song, "Dear Soulmate"]

Content Warning: mention of slight violence from a bully

It was a well-established fact that Slytherin threw the best parties. Its location beneath the Black Lake ensured that most of the music and shouting was muffled by several feet of water and stone. (And it certainly didn’t hurt that most of Hogwarts’ wealthiest students were Slytherins, meaning top-shelf firewhiskey and kegs of butterbeer were always in abundance.) After an intense quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin ended in a landslide victory for the latter team, word quickly spread of the celebration to be held in the common room. 

Scorpius could think of several things he’d rather be doing than spending the night surrounded by his raucous, intoxicated classmates, but Albus would be there, which meant Scorpius’ absence was out of the question. He set his battered copy of A History Of Magic on the closest side table and scanned the room for the hundredth time. Most of the other students present were still setting up for the party. A couple of seventh-years were levitating green and silver streamers to hang from the vaulted ceilings, while the rest conjured tables for the awaiting treats and liquor. Still no sign of his best friend. Perhaps he was still changing out of his uniform? Albus was always the last to leave the dormitory in the morning, but even he couldn’t need an entire hour to change out of his quidditch uniform. Not even one as spectacularly form-fitting as his had grown to be since the start of term. 

Scorpius’ gaze had been locked on Albus’ breathtaking form for the entire match. He played flawlessly. Every dive was calculated, each quaffle pass deliberate and ruthless. Halfway through the game Scorpius realized with a jolt how closely his playing style mirrored his personality. He was ever-vigilant, adapting quickly to the Gryffindors’ offensives. Brutally efficient and viciously agile, he was an unstoppable force once the quaffle was in his hands and his eyes locked onto the goal posts.  Albus had pushed his goggles into his unruly curls to keep them from flying into his eyes while he rolled and dove. It had taken his breath away and, not for the first time, he was reminded of how utterly in love he was with his best friend.

It was a secret Scorpius planned to take to his grave. There was no way that Albus - kind, perfect, beautiful Albus - returned his feelings. He and Albus shared everything; nothing remained hidden for long between the two of them. But all the love he felt for Al, every moment that had Scorpius blushing like mad and imagining a future together, those moments he poured into his diary. And so he waited for Albus to return from the pitch. He filled page after page with vivid descriptions of Albus’ flushed cheeks, wind-whipped hair, and the way he searched for Scorpius in the crowd after every goal he scored. He allowed his heart to bleed onto the pages, permitted his mind to wander into a timeline where he could hold Albus’ hand and murmur every word on his tucked-away pages. 

Scorpius didn’t realize the party had begun around him until a Gryffindor student, clearly drunk, stumbled into the back of the couch and broke his concentration. He set down his journal and took in the scene around him. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed the ceiling had gone dark. The lack of rippling light streaming through the Black Lake told him he had been writing for nearly an hour. The once-barren tables were now overflowing with sweets pilfered from the kitchens. Upon a table placed at the center of the common room, a small fountain bubbled with firewhiskey. Surrounding it were kegs of butterbeer and several red plastic cups that he’d only ever seen the muggles use in films Albus had shown him over the summer. 

A commotion near the common room entrance snared his attention and Scorpius turned to see Albus picking his way down the marble steps. Students from every house were sitting on nearly every available inch of the stairs, but when they realized the Potter brothers had arrived, they parted like a curtain. Scorpius stood, allowed his journal to fall from his lap, and stared. Anyone who didn’t know the Potters would never guess that James and Albus were related. James, with his broad shoulders and fiery red hair, and Al, with his lithe frame and raven locks - slightly curled from the shower he undoubtedly took after the match. Albus detested having all eyes on him, but James gladly soaked up the attention focussed entirely on the pair as they wove their way through the common room. From the corner of his eye Scorpius heard the rustling of parchment, and then - 

“Biggest rager of the year and you’re still doing homework?” Scorpius sucked in a ragged breath and spun to face the voice’s owner. Eliot Green, Gryffindor Beater, was holding his journal. Years of torment at the end of Eliot’s wand automatically sent his pulse jackrabbiting into his throat. He stood, petrified, trying to decide whether to take a safe step back or rush forward to grab the journal out of his hands. Eliot sneered at his hesitance and held the journal tight to his chest.

“You really are an enormous geek, you know,” he mocked in a sing-song tone. Scorpius clenched his fists, obscured by his long cloak sleeves, but he didn’t dare move. Eliot must’ve overheard him and Al talking in the common room last night. 

-

Albus had been fraught at the prospect of letting down the team at the upcoming match. Scorpius begun rattling off every Chaser strategy he’d memorized from the book on Albus’ bedside table in an effort to calm his nerves. Al had mastered nearly every one, and Scorpius was just getting around to assuring him he could’ve possibly fail when he found himself swept into a hug. The shock had worn off after a few seconds, but Scorpius registered that they were still holding each other. 

“That’s the third time you’ve done that,” he’d squeaked. But Al only held him tighter and murmured, “You really are an enormous geek, you know?” Even with his face nestled into Al’s shoulder, he could hear the soft smile in his voice. 

“I’m so glad to have a friend like you,” were the words that pulled him back to reality. The cold reminder that Albus saw him as a friend -  and nothing more.

-

Scorpius’ eyes burned, unshed tears stinging at such a vulnerable moment being thrown back in his face by Eliot of all people. 

“I would’ve thought Voldemort’s son would be eager to celebrate such a phenomenal win for his own house. Daddy would be so disappointed. Now, let’s see what we have here-” he wrenched the journal open, hard enough that Scorpius heard the spine crack, and opened to the most recent page.

Scorpius forgot how to breathe as his eyes scanned the page, a cruel grin slicing across his face as he realized exactly what he was reading. 

He stepped up onto the nearest table and grinned. “I think this is something everyone would enjoy hearing, don’t you?”

Rational thought abandoned Scorpius. A primal fear possessed him and he rushed forward and made a grab for the journal. Eliot anticipated his move and sent a half-hearted stinging hex his way. It sliced across his cheek, and Scorpius cried out in pain. The common room went deadly silent in seconds as people noticed the commotion. Scorpius had tripped over a table leg and fallen onto the unforgiving marble floor. He held his cheek with one hand, and the cut stung as salty tears ran across the wound. All eyes were on Eliot as he held the journal above his head and crowed:

“Before we all get too drunk to remember anything, Scorpius Malfoy has something he’d like to say. He’s too much of a coward to say it, so I’ve graciously volunteered to be his voice.”

It was a nightmare. The scene before him blurred from tears, silence except for Eliot’s grating voice scraping his heart raw to everyone in the room, and Albus  - oh god. Albus was here. He’s going to hear everything. They’ll never be able to come back from this - 

And then Scorpius’ own words were echoing throughout the vaulted ceilings and into the ears of everyone in the common room:

 “I know that loving someone and being in love with someone are two entirely different things, but with him I feel both. I love him. I’ve always loved him as a friend, but for a while now it’s felt different. I reread my previous entries, and now I know why they sounded so familiar. They sound like the stories dad tells me about mum. I love how beautiful he looks as he’s falling asleep in our dorm, and how he’s always grumpy at breakfast. I love how passionate he is about the causes he believes in, and how fiercely he cares for his family (even if he tries to hide it). I love that I can feel the sun inside my chest when he’s close, but I can’t bear to be apart from him. But most of all, I love him. I’m in love with Albus. And it feels like this is the type of love one only reads about in fairytales. It’s a love some people spend their whole lives searching for, and sometimes never even find. I think it’s a love worth fighting for. And when I was in the alternate timeline- What the hell? Malfoy, enlighten us on what you meant by that last part!”

 Scorpius couldn’t breathe. There were a few snorted laughs scattered across the crowd, but mostly it was silent. His hands were trembling. If he weren’t already on the floor, he would’ve fallen over. He used the table to pull himself up, intent on running somewhere, anywhere but here, when his gaze snagged on Albus and James. Albus, whose eyes were filled with pity. And James, eyes blazing with anger and face flushing so red it nearly matched his hair. His eyes were locked on Scorpius, chest heaving and fists clenched. He stalked forward, the crowd parting to let him pass. Scorpius took an instinctive step back. James was going to hit him. He knew Scorpius had feelings for his little brother. James swung his fist back - Scorpius flinched away - and a crack cleaved the silence as Eliot cried out and fell flat on his back.

Scorpius opened his eyes just enough to see that James and Eliot were wrestling on the ground before he pulled himself together and ran.

He shoved against bodies, babbled apologies, and ran. Up the winding staircase, past the common room doors, and down the corridors. Left turn, right turn, up stairs, through the courtyard. He ran and ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like jelly. He collapsed into a heap, pain registering dully as his knees hit the boathouse floor. He felt the full reality of what transpired hit him all at once, and he broke. This was vivisection. His heart felt scrubbed raw for all the world to see. And the worst of it - Albus’ pitying gaze. A single look that told him everything he needed to know. Albus would find a way to let him down gently, but Scorpius doubted they’d ever really come back from this. Nothing would be the same. He shuffled back against a column and pulled his knees up to his chest. Every sob felt drawn from his well of sorrow, something that had remained untouched since his mum’s funeral.

“Scorpius?” Albus’ tentative voice halted his sobs momentarily. He didn’t dare look up. As soon as he did, it would be the beginning of the end. As long as he kept his eyes shut, he could hang onto whatever hope he had that things wouldn’t change. Shuffling, and then a hand beneath his chin, gently guiding his head up. The smell of firewood and fresh linen, Albus, and then - “Could you open your eyes for me?” He obeyed. Albus could ask him for anything, and Scorpius would comply, knowing it was already his.

“There you are,” he smiled softly. Scorpius slowly took in his surroundings and let his gaze linger on Albus’ face. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was messier than usual, like he’d been raking his hand through the curls, and his eyes were so impossibly green Scorpius could drown in them. A weight was placed next to him.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he murmured tentatively. Scorpius knew without looking that it was his journal. He couldn’t bear the sight of it. 

“I thought James was going to hit me,” he blurted. Albus reared back as though he’d been slapped. “He would never! James loves you. Everyone loves you…,” he trailed off.

Scorpius felt a sudden surge of bravery push a single word from his chest: “Everyone?” Everything felt suspended in the air. It was the feeling of missing a step on a darkened staircase, the stretched-out moment when you couldn’t tell if your feet would meet the next step or you’d end up sprawled at the bottom. Albus seemed to cast about for something, and when he found it, he set his shoulders and met Scorpius’ gaze head-on.

“Everyone,” he assured. Scorpius felt confusion and hope in equal measures. “Those things I wrote about you - ”

“I’m glad you did,” Al cut in. Scorpius gaped, but he continued. “I feel awful for listening, but I’m so glad you did. Before it got to the part with my name, the only thing I could think of was how badly I wanted those thoughts to be about me.” He shuffled closer, knees brushing against Scorpius’.

“I wanted that because - Because I know that loving someone and being in love with someone are different, but I feel both of those things. For you. And only you. I have for a while now, but I didn’t understand it until tonight.”

Scorpius sniffled as tears traced down his cheeks for an entirely different reason. A breathy laugh escaped him, high and a bit hysterical. “You can’t remember your class schedule, but you memorized that in one go?”

Al’s face softened into a relieved grin. He seemed to fold in on himself with relief as he bunched up his cloak sleeve and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. The fabric grazed the cut on his cheek and Scorpius hissed. Albus stilled completely, eyes blazing just as James’ had been minutes ago.

“Did he do this to you?” His fist shook with rage as he touched the tip of his wand to Scorpius’ cheek, but the healing magic that flowed from him was gentle, the kiss of a breeze. Albus ran his thumb along the newly-healed cut, and Scorpius leaned into his touch, greedy for more. The warmth disappeared as Albus stood. “He’s dead.”

Scorpius hand shot out, catching Albus’ hand at the last second. “Please don’t,” he begged. “Just stay here with me?” Albus scowled up at the castle, but dropped to his knees next to Scorpius. 

“I’d rather be where you are, anyway,” he breathed. He looked at Scorpius for a moment before pulling him into a hug. Scorpius laughed, holding Al to his chest and allowing himself great lungfuls of air, taking in his best friend’s familiar scent. Scorpius voice was slightly muffled where his face pressed against Albus’ chest as he asked, “Is this a thing we do now?”

Albus pulled away and gently cupped his face, his touch gentle, heavenly. “I want it to be,” he replied, with more resolve than Scorpius had ever heard from him.

He bit his lip nervously and Scorpius eye’s followed the motion, shameless staring. Albus’ thumb drifted up to gently rest against his bottom lip. “May I?” he begged.

Scorpius replied by gripping his cloak with both hands and kissing him with the desperation of a drowning man. Albus’ lips were warm, supple, his kiss impossibly gentle and maddeningly hungry all at once. It could’ve been forever or a moment when they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling like lovesick fools. Albus opened his arms in invitation and Scorpius tucked himself against his chest. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of being so close. It was Scorpius who broke the silence first. 

“Nothing will ever be the same, will it?” he murmured. Albus gazed down at him. He brushed a stray lock from his forehead and placed a gentle kiss in its stead. 

“No. It’ll be better.”

.

.

.

.

.

[andithiel]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

Aaaah omg thank you for this ask my dear friend 🥹 I loved your list (found here). I did this 1,5 years ago (that list can be found here) and I didn’t want to repeat myself so I’m going to go with stuff that I’ve written since (as if that would make it easier) *cries in ambivalence*

Sweet Desire (Scorbus, just short of 6k, rated E, first person POV) I wrote this for last year's next gen fest. I was in a major writing slump and couldn't find any inspiration until I found the prompt "first time oral sex" and for some reason that inspired me. I had so much fun trying to convey that giddy teenage trying new things together in a trusting relationship, and I hope I pulled it off. Scorbus is pretty tricky for me to write but I really enjoyed spending time with these two lovebirds.

Sinking/Floating (Drarry, 963 words, rated T, second person POV) This was also something that made something click in me when I saw the lovely imovie of @bluebutter-art 's amazing fanart So rest your weary heart with me. I wanted to convey the same feeling I got when looking at Blue's art, and it took me a while to get there but I'm still very proud of how it came out.

Take that ride (Drarry, 1,6k, rated T) Inspired by Dance to this with Troye Sivan and Ariana Grande. I tried to capture the feeling of the song and include some of the elements in it, and tried to focus on the sensory despcriptions (which is something I tend to forget when writing), and I think it's one of the things I'm most proud of.

Let me show you (Drarry, 556 words, it's only on tumblr but I guess I'd rate it T) Sometimes inspiration just hits. You go about your daily chores and thinks about the fuck or die trope and then BAM! You need to write a 500 word drabble about mutual pining and Draco heroically chasing down Harry to offer his services.

microfic for the prompt "Truth or dare" for last year's flufftober I'm just super happy and proud that I managed to get this amount of story into 50 words, go me!

[willdarknessdivideblog]

Finally back in the fanfic grind with a Scorbus post📚

artist: kidovna

[ghaniblue]

HP Rec Fest: Day 3

@hprecfest prompt: a podfic

Podfics, my beloved. I tried to narrow it down to one, but alas. So I went with:

two old Drarry favourites that I imprinted on years ago and still return to time and again;

a Drarry podfic by an all-time favourite podficcer across several fandoms, written by the narrator;

and a new favourite rare pair podfic, and an incredible debut recording at that.

Tissue of Silver read by Fayjay & written by Fearlessdiva (Drarry, Explicit, 8h)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf. Beware: coarse language, brief drug use, some sexual content, and consideration of issues of sexual consent.

After failing in his task of killing Dumbledore, life doesn’t go as Draco expected. Sometimes just surviving takes everything you’ve got. And sometimes healing is something you can’t do alone. Story goes AU/AR from the end of Half-Blood Prince.

A Fruit Tree in Winter by Bryoneybrynn read by Takola & written by Bryoneybrynn (Drarry, Mature, 3-3,5h

Podfic: Like Diamonds We Are Cut With Our Own Dust written & read by @raitala (Drarry, Teen, 1h)

Draco has borne the mark of the Dark Lord for over ten years. It is familiar to him, but he pays the price for it every day, and Harry has noticed.

For Sale by Owner: Rose Weasley-Granger's Virginity by @schmem14 & written by @vukovich (Draco/Rose, minor Rose/Scorpius, background Scorbus, Explicit, 3-3,5h)

Problem: I'm a twenty-four year-old academic prodigy, but I'd trade my diplomas for a good, hard fuck. Since that's not a real thing I can do, I guess I'll pack up my dildo collection and go to the States for this doctoral program. If I can raise the money for tuition. Solution: Virginity: the original NFT. Non-Fuckable Token. Assuming someone will pay for it. Spoiler: Someone does. Handsomely. And repeatedly. And then I stole his cat.

>> rec fest masterlist <<

[hp-flowers]

Here's to another week of autumn foliage! Week 3  (October 15 - 21)

Yay! We're halfway through the challenge! This week for Track #1, we’re focussing on Prompt Card #3, which has another 2 new flowers/plant prompts to choose from. Prompts are photo and text based. A reminder that creators have the option to choose: 1 prompt, both prompts (should you choose the pairing/bouquet route), or none of them from this prompt card. You can also add other flowers/plants if you think they pair well with the challenge prompts.  (P.S. If you’re following Track #2, skip right ahead and make a thing from older prompts from previous rounds. Post your works at any time this month!). This week’s new prompts are:

1. Iris- Valor, Wisdom or Faith

If paired with: >> Bluebells- show humility in victory

OR

>> Clemantis- indicate admiration for ingenuity

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2. Chamomile- Energy in Adversity

If paired with: >> Dogwood- show that your love will overcome all obstacles

OR

>> Rose- indicate the strength of your love during a difficult time OR

>> Nettle- show sympathy for unfair circumstances

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Optional Bouquet or Display: Tricks or Treats for Appeasement

Use all of the flowers/plants listed above as a nod to trick or treating, guising or soulling.

— All works can be posted to HP Flowers’ open AO3 collection. If you would like your work to be shared or reblogged, don’t forget to tag @hp-flowers and #hpflowers2024. Keep those creative juices flowing, folks!

[hyperion-severus]

hi pls give me scorbus (or any next gen kids orrr even drastoria) doodle prompts either here or in my ask box idc,, i will post them on @yendts <333

[smr7k4]

going to be hopeful and actually make scorbmas 2023 a thing :3

here's a shitty little Google form where you can submit your christmas or winter? cozy? themed ideas for doodles and prompts

if I get enough responses I'm going to close it on thurstday 14th and start a poll with the answers (similar prompts are gonna be merged). I have my last final of this year on 20th and after that there's going to be a surprise reveal!

I hope noone will be mad if I'd like it to start on 21nd, nothing like getting creative to get into the mood :3 and imo the atmosphere before the big day is better than after. it would last until 27th, so 7 days days of joy!!!

it's kinda rushed but also I don't want this to be something "serious" there's like 10 people in this fandom and it would be nice if everyone joined! I'd then make (another) side acc to share all little dudes created :if you're interested reblog would be appreciated to share the word!

[wolfpants]

enterrement de vie de garçon | ron/viktor + drarry + deamus

Rated E | 2.6k | Kinkuary day 28: Wildcard My self-prompt: Orgy Tags: EWE, bachelor party, established Drarry, established Deamus, past Ron/Viktor, bi Ron, everyone has fucked everyone, Ron calls it the gay circle of life, Ron POV, Quidditch player Draco Malfoy, banker Ron Weasley, group sex/orgy, summer holiday, the gang are approaching 30, banter, friendship, oral sex, rimming, anal sex, flirting Thank you so much to @getawayfox for the beta!

Ron and Viktor have had sex. Once.

All their friends know.

Five years ago, it was. When Draco had been drafted for the British team to play the World Cup in Sweden. 

Everyone had gone to see him play, had attended the parties and socials and wild nights with the world’s greatest Quidditch players.

Ron had been newly out at the time, and it’d been Hermione, of all people, to encourage him to talk to Viktor. “I knew you liked him when we were in school. I knew it. No one hates someone that much,” she’d said triumphantly when she finally got it out of him.

“I was jealous!” he’d said unconvincingly as she steered him across the large hotel bar, the entire building taken over by Quidditch players. 

“Of who?” she’d asked him slyly, plonking him in front of Viktor and his friends.

read enterrement de vie de garçon on ao3

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wolfpants @kinkuary '23 masterlist day 1: accidental arousal (ron/scorpius) | day 2: gloryhole (harry/scorpius) | day 3: medical play (dron) | day 4: genderbend (sirius/draco) | day 5: cnc (deamus/harry+drarry) | day 6: begging (drarry) | day 7: somnophilia (charry) | day 8: intercrural (sirius/harry) | day 9: hair pulling (scorbus) | day 10: fisting (ronarry) | day 11: roleplay (drarry) | day 12: first time (teddy/scorpius) | day 13: dacryphilia (dralbus) | day 14: fabric play (charlie/draco) | day 15: possessiveness (dron) | day 16: size kink (sirius/drarry) | day 17: wax play (bill/draco) | day 18: exhibitionism (drarry) | day 19: hate sex (draco/james) | day 20: overstimulation (drarry) | day 21: chastity (james/albus) | day 22: piercings (harry/teddy) | day 23: praise kink (drarry) | day 24: feet (drarry) | day 25: comeplay (ron/albus/scorpius) | day 26: humiliation (blaise/draco) | day 27: cockwarming (drarry) | day 28: wildcard (orgy) (ron/viktor, drarry, deamus)

[rewritingcanon]

i’d do it and help with prompts if it wasn’t exam season for me 🧍‍♀️

hi scorbus enjoyers do we have like, a ship week for them. can someone tell me when is it if yes. if not We should like.. totally make one…