Pinned
hi i'm garage :,) this is a formal pinned post, you might have noticed from its stunning boutonniere. drarry/writing:
this heaven of mud | 94k a barely lit path | 65k isn't a kingdom | 54k palindrome | 25k javelin (to have and to hold) | 18k the lonesome crowded west | 17k, dronarry coyote ugly | 10k ready, able | 9k + occasionally in a pile
5, 10, 17, 29 needs visual rep pls than
5. what colour are the walls of your room? docile decent green 10. what’s your favourite piece of clothing you own? does a bag count it's this one that says SECRET DIARY
17. what’s one thing you want to buy, but don’t have the money or resources to get? ok not just the rococo one but also any of the clock of the year winners from cuckoo palace dot org 29. what's the last outfit you wore?
24, 28, 33 for ask game :)
24. do you believe in any conspiracy theories? i did just blab about but if i can't say denver airport i'll say. the avril lavigne situation 28. when you’re sad, do you prefer to listen to music to match your mood, or listen to happy music? i'm positive u know the answer to this. i prefer sad music when i'm sad and sad music when i'm happy. if i'm at the gym i will listen only to girl talk's feed the animals as i have been doing on repeat for 15 yrs ::) 33. do you prefer silver or gold jewelry? i like the things the hottie hot hots are doing with natural pearls and that sort of like dripping clotted silver
17. what’s one thing you want to buy, but don’t have the money or resources to get? ROCOCO GRANDFATHER CLOCK
24. do you believe in any conspiracy theories? the denver airport for sure
29. what’s the last outfit you wore? 100% of the time a standard enormous beige sweatshirt n sweatpants 40. what’s the most interesting item you own?
i found this in the street ::) then once when i was roughhousing drunk i shoved my shoulder into it and it shattered (you can see possibly the ooze orange gunk of glue i begged it back together with) but it always drove me absolutely wild that under the mostly wholly opaque black glass! there was! a whole ass fucking gorgeous scene. we knew this a bit, with the petal cutout, yeah, but. what does the rest of it look like! i can't bring myself to break it all and find out. but it's waiting until one day when i'm ready for the loss and then i'll know. and there u go that's a metaphor.
17 24 29 40
17. what’s one thing you want to buy, but don’t have the money or resources to get?
24. do you believe in any conspiracy theories? the denver airport for sure
29. what’s the last outfit you wore? 100% of the time a standard enormous beige sweatshirt n sweatpants 40. what’s the most interesting item you own?
i found this in the street ::) then once when i was roughhousing drunk i shoved my shoulder into it and it shattered (you can see possibly the ooze orange gunk of glue i begged it back together with) but it always drove me absolutely wild that under the mostly wholly opaque black glass! there was! a whole ass fucking gorgeous scene. we knew this a bit, with the petal cutout, yeah, but. what does the rest of it look like! i can't bring myself to break it all and find out. but it's waiting until one day when i'm ready for the loss and then i'll know. and there u go that's a metaphor.
but there's something undeniably erotic about being driven down a back road in the dead of night. the thing is all people do think this
9k words, explicit
“Draco." Harry caught him dull and quick around the wrist. He squeezed. He didn’t think, the feeling came off his tongue whole. “You’re not threatening to sue Hermione because I didn’t call you back?” “Fuck you,” Malfoy spat, face pink. Not pretty. A hasty, hungry rash slapped on in a rush. Harry dropped his wrist. It wasn’t about how he looked, at all. The acid in his tone tolled like a bell. Clear, true. The words—I didn’t know you were so sensitive—dented Harry’s tongue and he swallowed them down immediately. He did know. Of course he knew—Draco Malfoy was much more milk than porcelain: easy to ripple, to spill. It was new, dizzying information to understand that he cared. That he noticed if Harry didn’t.
chansonnier cordiforme
drolleries from the heart-shaped chansonnier de jean de montchenu, or chansonnier cordiforme. savoy (france), c. 1470-75
source: Paris, BnF, Rothschild 2973 (979a)
9k words, explicit
“Draco." Harry caught him dull and quick around the wrist. He squeezed. He didn’t think, the feeling came off his tongue whole. “You’re not threatening to sue Hermione because I didn’t call you back?” “Fuck you,” Malfoy spat, face pink. Not pretty. A hasty, hungry rash slapped on in a rush. Harry dropped his wrist. It wasn’t about how he looked, at all. The acid in his tone tolled like a bell. Clear, true. The words—I didn’t know you were so sensitive—dented Harry’s tongue and he swallowed them down immediately. He did know. Of course he knew—Draco Malfoy was much more milk than porcelain: easy to ripple, to spill. It was new, dizzying information to understand that he cared. That he noticed if Harry didn’t.
hard cock at morning....jerkers take warning
hard cock at night.....jerker's delight
April 10, 1927 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]
What an incredible fest! Thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos and comments, please keep them coming! And thank you to all our lovely creators for bringing in such a variety of works and making this fest so fantastic. See you next year! ⚡️👑🐍
ART
Draco knows that no matter how awful his day was, he can rely on the comforts of Harry and Ron, no matter how late in the night it was.
PODFIC
Draco’s going to learn to ride a bike if it’s the last thing he does.
FIC + ART
🛏️ Unravelled. | E | @digthewriter
Draco gets turned into a girl. Ron is attracted. When Draco comes out as genderfluid but still "looks" like a boy… Ron is even more confused. Harry is just there for the sex.
FIC
After the war Draco Malfoy, Charms Professor, has a calm life as a Hogwarts teacher. But there have been some changes at school this year, and now he’s caught between two equally handsome Gryffindor Professors - Potter, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor who sets schoolgirls giggling, and Weasley, all rugged charm and sun-kissed skin from his Care of Magical Creatures work. Choosing between them? It’s driving him mad. Resisting them? Impossible.
Harry visits Draco and Ron, to start the year off right. Traditions and desires coalesce in a cottage by the water.
“So, how far back are we going?” Ron asked, tapping his hands on his knees. “Five years? Ten?”
There was a twinkle in Michi’s eye as she said, “The mid-1800s was the last time we can credibly say that the cave entrance was exposed. Think cowboys, gambling that you won’t be allowed to participate in, and the wild fucking west.”
Guns, chaps that might or might not be assless, and the wide-open sky. And Malfoy. And Ron.
And, well, that could pose quite a large problem for Harry, if he was being completely honest with himself.
Harry owns a broomshop. Ron runs a broomshop. Draco fixes at a broomshop.
A western romance featuring: a magical rodeo, sunsets in Utah, a dragon named Pill-bug, stolen beer and paper plate dinners, pining, Ron Weasley as a barebacking cowboy, a constantly shoe-less Draco Malfoy, and a too-much, two-palms-full sort of love.
Draco last saw Potter three years ago, when he disappeared off to New York with Draco’s crushed heart in hand. Potter’s back—but things in London are different now. Draco and Ron quit the Aurors, opened a pub together, and basically became each other’s new best friend. Draco’s determined to keep his head this time. No falling for Potter’s friendliness, or his tactile nature, and definitely no flirting. Absolutely no sex… honestly.
Where did this book come from? Did my mother send this to me? She said before returning to Hogwarts that I should start writing a journal and that it might help me. I don't know how this works exactly and I'm pretty sure I like to do this, but if I don't get it out soon, I'll scream. So here goes nothing.
Draco has heard the rumours: Ron is packing one down there. He's obsessed with finding out the truth, Harry never hears the end of it. But will Draco succeed in his investigations? And how?
Ron catches Harry fucking Malfoy in the Quidditch sauna. Then Malfoy fucking Harry in their flat. Multiple times. Ron’s been having weird reactions to it, like angry boners and weird sex fantasies. Even though he’s most definitely heterosexual. It's fine. None of Harry's boyfriends actually stick around. Ron is sure it's fine. He's heterosexual. And he's definitely not in love with his best mate.
Draco's parents go to Azkaban. Draco goes to the Weasleys. -- You’re wrong, obviously. It’s a terrible story.
Harry is mortally injured on an Auror mission with Ron. Before he dies, he makes Ron promise not to let his husband Draco find out the truth because it will devastate him. Ron is so wracked with guilt that he agrees to take Harry's place in the world of the living, and everyone he knows thinks he's the one who died.
Ron’s husbands are curse-breakers—getting cursed every so often is the cost of doing business. He just didn’t expect them to come home as children.
The house knows. She knows they were boys together.
He wants to freeze this moment; capture the way Ron’s messy hair glows like summer in the morning light, the way Draco’s cheeks are flushed from the cold against his wintry, snow-kissed complexion. He wants to remember the way it feels to sit here, in the cold, with the two people he loves most in the world. ~ In the Summer of '98, Harry falls for Ron. In the Autumn that follows, he falls for Draco, too.
Harry Potter is pathetic. He watches the playa dust cling to Draco’s skin and wishes he could run his tongue through it to create patterns across the strong, pale surfaces of him. He wants to inhale a lungful of the dust and choke on it, just to stop from suffocating on the feelings pressing down on his chest, because every time Draco touches him, Harry nearly combusts.
Until one day, an American boy with flame red hair pulls them both in and lights a match. How beautifully agonizing, to endure the sizzle and snap of a fire as it licks up to consume anything worth catching.
Or, Harry and Draco meet Ron at Burning Man.
The end of Ron’s seven year agreement with the goblins is on the horizon, and what does he have to show for it other than paying off his debt? No savings, no property, no legacy. The only career progression available will keep him trapped behind a desk and under his brother’s thumb. But how much longer can he bear the isolation of living abroad, away from the people that matter most?
The ancient parchment he unearthed yesterday provides the key to an undiscovered tomb that’s too big, too important to ignore, much like the life-altering decision looming in front of him.
It's time to call Harry.
Any way you sliced it, Potter and Weasley's behaviour really took the cake.
Five years after a whirlwind romance and a one-way Portkey to Florida, Draco's life is perfect. He’s got the perfect job, the perfect house, and the perfect husband. That is, until an international owl shows up on their porch bearing devastating news: Ron Weasley is dying.
Now Harry’s heading to the Burrow, determined to make things right. Another one-way Portkey for Draco then, back to miserable old England. Trust Weasley to go and fuck everything up...
Draco just wanted to play some quidditch. And he was going to drag the entire Ministry along with him if he had to.
when I say you remind me of a book’s broken back, pages half-sewn and a coffee ring on its face or that moment in half-morning where the sun is hesitant or after the ground’s been cried upon and everything is soft and open or holding the earth’s guts in palm just to feel alive amidst all this concrete, my god, what I mean to say is this song is an off strum and I like the way it hits my ears sideways and how I might be cold and you’ll put your coat around my shoulders like the movies and I’ll show my teeth and say, who spilled molasses over the window, making the day golden?
— from Chorus, eds. Saul Williams, Dufflyn Lammers & Aja Monet
