Draco winced as shrill cries rang through the living room. Increasing the speed of his hip-bop, he hoped that the rapid bouncing put Teddy to sleep. To no avail - he’s almost sure his eardrum was blasted straight off by the time Potter rushed to take the wailing baby from him - Saint Potter to the Rescue he thought to himself snidely - and the little bugger promptly fell silent. Good grief. Were even 1 year olds not immune to the Golden Boy’s charm?
Swallowing down bitter disappointment and a strange resentment, Draco averted his gaze from the pity clearly visible in Potter’s eyes, and whirled around to stomp to the kitchen. He’d better prepare dinner - Merlin knew Potter could set fire to a pot of boiling water if Draco left him to it.
A month ago, Andromeda had unexpectedly died of an incurable, progressive blood curse, leaving her grandson to their care. The moment Draco had known that he would have to take care of his nephew with his childhood nemesis, he had been on the verge of throwing a massive strop, but then Teddy’s hair had guilelessly turned blond, and Draco’s heart had fucking melted. So here he was, chopping onions and pretending that his tears were anything but a result of sleepless nights, and days filled with frustration.
Of course, that was when the source of Draco’s misery bumbled into the kitchen in pure Potter fashion. He had to grip the knife tighter to resist the urge to smack the git, or something inane like straighten his collar and comb his finger through those hopeless curls. Ugh, Draco hated his inner sap.
Nonetheless, like had become a weird kind of routine, Potter leaned against the counter, watching Draco work. He had, presumably, put Teddy to sleep, and was here to annoy Draco like always. Not that Draco didn’t encourage it, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.
“Can I help?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Potter, we both know you can’t coo to save your life. I trust you’ve fed Teddy, and reinforced the cushioning charms?”
Through a small smile lurking about his lips - Draco snapped his eyes away, he’d cut his finger if he spent a moment more staring at Potter’s lips - he said, “Of course I did. You’re such a mother hen.” Fondness had bled through Potter’s tone at the end, and Draco didn’t think his cheeks had ever turned hot this fast.
Draco scoffed, but let it slide. He knew that Potter had only been jesting, and long-gone were the days of mean insults and petty fights.
Fully concentrated on peeling the potatoes, Draco didn’t notice when Potter moved, and so was badly startled when thickly-corded forearms - fuck’s sake, Draco’s inner sap, stop gushing - came around him to rest on the kitchen counter. Heartbeat out of control, Draco remained perfectly still as the warmth at his back moved closer, and obediently let go of the peeler when hands gently pulled it away from his grasp.
It was so silent, Draco could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, and his mouth opened in a silent gasp when a single kiss was placed on the side of his neck. It was followed by a hard suck, and then teeth clamped down on it, making Draco’s skin goosepimple. He barely managed to turn around to face his ambusher, before he was pushed backwards, the marble slab digging into his back. Up close, Potter’s eyes seemed like glittering jewels, forged in the pits of the earth; his pupils diluting like inky darkness in an emerald sea.
No words were spoken - none were needed, after all, both of them knew this had been building for years - and as Potter leaned forward, making Draco’s neck arch back, Draco’s eyelids fluttered shut, all remaining worries flying out of his mind when their lips met.
@slytherinnbitch prompted me ‘Parent’, and @thebooktopusprompted me 'Preparing dinner together’, so here you go! I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting, I admit I took a very roundabout approach to both prompts… Send me more prompts starting with a letter from my username, and get (mostly fluffy, sometimes angsty) drarry ficlets!
You’re an absolute sweetheart and we’re so lucky to have you! Thank you for your contributions to fandom and the positive impact you’ve made on our community. You’ve touched more people than you’ll ever know, darling. I’d like to celebrate you by sharing your recs of fics that I love dearly (plus a cheeky self rec lol) and this tiny Liv-themed moodboard.
Dralbus | T | 1.7k |Weddings and storms and the bittersweet feeling when your straight friend and sometime crush gets married (but at least his dad’s hot, right?)
This is everything, Scorp had said earlier, still giddy from the ceremony. I love you two, you know that? He had one arm around my shoulders, tugging me into him, and the other around Rose’s waist. Everyone I love, right here in one place. He turned to me, then, pressed a smacking kiss to my cheek, Rose giggling behind him. I hope – Al, he said, ardent as ever, I hope one day you get this lucky. You deserve it. Everything you want.
I wrote this, my first foray into cross-gen, for the lovely @sitp-recs, who’s been gracing fandom with her presence for two whole years now. When I was but a wee-un, staying up late into the night to devour longfic after longfic on my phone, months before I even dreamt of writing anything myself (or even had a Tumblr), I used to check out the latest sitp-recs rec to find my newest obsession. I discovered so many of my faves (and now my friends) through Liv, and I just thought it’s worth thinking about the sheer number of people who are probably doing the same as I did, right now. When I finally started writing, I remember thinking to myself that getting a sitp-recs rec would be like the highest fandom accolade. I couldn’t believe it the day it finally happened!
I only got chatting to Liv after joining fandom last year; we had friends in common and everyone was telling me how lovely she was, and of course they were absolutely right. It’s been great to get to know you, Liv, and to have someone else to shout about all my favourite fics with. I hope you’re having a wonderful day and feeling thoroughly loved and spoiled <3
(also, have a banner that I would hate to go unused!)
for the darling @sitp-recs’ second fanniversary. Thank you Liv for your friendship, here’s a microfic for you Prompted by @lqtraintrackscw: implicit sex
From behind Harry curves into him, so his body heat scorches through the thin cotton of Draco’s shirt. They’ve never crossed this line before, but anticipation pricks every nerve ending on Draco’s skin. With a shudder, he leans back into Harry’s grasp, intimate, knowing.
happy two year tumblrversary lovely liv @sitp-recs! thank you so much for all of the encouragement and support you’ve given to me and everyone in fandom. to celebrate your two year anniversary, here are 400 words of run ons featuring draco reflecting on his two-year anniversary with harry. thanks so much to @written-in-ash for helping me fight commas.
The sun burned embers on the horizon before they realized what the departing day marked — a line drawn against time, and crossed again by clumsy feet. Draco knew he could never capture it, but if he tried, it might be:
The outline Harry’s hair made on summer-sunned days — short, and then long, and then short again — but always capturing the same glow as fading daylight thinned itself into a halo. The path Draco took as he walked behind him, fitting his feet into footsteps forged in flattened grass, Harry always a few paces ahead, and rarely looking back.
Or the dark skids against the floors of their first, and then second, and then third flats, where the legs of couches and tables dragged against cheap linoleum and imitation hardwood. The stains that would be lifted easily with scouring spells if they hadn’t long ago stopped bothering to erase their mistakes.
Or the burn of his tongue on too-hot tea. Or the crumpled fabric of threadbare t-shirts tossed into the corners of bathrooms. Or the particular wrist movement for spells that revived wilting ivy and overwatered succulents. Or the way that when Harry tried to leave him, he closed the door so gently the sound could be hushed away by a quiet sigh or the breeze through an open window. The way that when Harry came back, it was louder each time, a revelry of bags dropped on floors and brooms clattering walls and a path stamped by heavy footfall, one Draco thought the floor might one day memorize as it seeped into the earth below.
Or the sound of slow, quiet breaths, cheeks squished against armrests, and the deep slumber of a man who earned his every exhale, even the ones that turned to snores. Or the sheen of moonlight spread thin across sweat rich sheets on the nights Draco lay awake and wondered. Not whether they would one day tear each other apart, but whether they already had: limb from limb, only to find themselves demolished things, recomposed into reflected shapes that always recognized each other, if seldom themselves.
Or the two years behind them, not a threshold but a bridge. And a future Draco might try to pluck as if from a tree, to sink his teeth into and let dribble down his cheeks, knowing he would never truly taste it until it was kissed from his lips.
@sitp-recs Hey Liv! I hope today has been filled with all the love and goodness you deserve. Happy Fanniversary, you amazing, amazing human.
I have my own small contribution, based on “All These Things That I’ve Done” by The Killers. Liv, I hope you enjoy this.
Draco clutched Harry’s hand like a lifeline; he could feel him trying to squeeze back but unable to under the tight grip.
He watched the Weasleys gathered around the table, each of them regarding Draco with blank, thoughtful expressions. “Sorry we’re late,” Harry said with a small smile. “Room for two more?”
The silence was thick. Draco swallowed, and tried to will his feet to carry him briskly out of the Burrow, but this time it was Harry who held his hand too tightly to move, anchoring him to the moment, to his inevitable fate. Draco steeled himself and tried to focus on the blinking Christmas lights, the red and green decorations that filled the cozy home.
He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t want to intrude—”
“Who’s here—Oh!” A woman who Draco recognized as the matriarch of the house strode into the room, carrying a large tray filled with steaming slices of turkey. “Harry,” she said with a bright grin, and Draco braced himself as she set down the tray on the table and approached them where they stood at the door. “You’re looking much too hungry, my dear, and you!” She turned to Draco, who clenched his jaw. “I’m afraid you’ll simply blow away!” She tsked, shaking her head. “We’ll simply have to change that, won’t we? Come in and eat! And close that door before the chill ruins my food, will you, Harry dear? Draco, I’ve saved you a seat next to me—” as she rambled, she took Draco’s hand with a smile and led him toward the table.
Draco started after her and looked at Harry over his shoulder, bewildered and slightly frightened. Harry grinned in return, moving to close the door before he caught up to Draco and the woman, who insisted on being called ‘Molly,’ sat them down at the table. The rest of the family had started conversing lowly, stirring with the low hum of small talk.
Draco sat between Harry and Molly, the former reaching under the table to squeeze his hand again as the latter began serving him heaps of turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and cranberry sauce. The table had erupted into loud, bright conversation, laughter and warmth filling the air.
Draco looked at Harry, who smiled at him again and leaned next to him, whispering, “See? Not so bad.”
Draco nodded, allowing himself a shaky smile. “No,” he whispered back. “Not so bad.”
A Hardy | Harry/Teddy Story Rated:Mature Words:~2,100 Content: cross-gen relationship; angst with a happy ending; break-up/make-up; Sirius’s motorbike; kitchen table sex; first person Harry POV Summary: I could have died of it, your tenderness toward me. Instead I decided to live.
Huge thank you to @nv-md who, when I asked for Hardy prompts, gave me these:
a single photograph ‘when I last saw you…’ motorcycle ride red pants/underwear ‘remember the first time…’ cooking dinner together 'I wish you could have been there.’
I just so happened to use all of them in this! Your prompts were that perfect. <3
Another massive thank you to @onbeinganangel for the gorgeous banner! <3
To@writcraft for showing up in my messages and getting this ball rolling. <3
To@babooshkart for coming up with the perfect tag in 1.7 seconds. :D <3
@sitp-recs, Livvy dear. This fandom loves you. I love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done here, as a reader, a reccer, and a friend. It’s an honor to get to celebrate you here today. Happy fanniversary! <333
“Draco, love, what are you doing?” Harry asked wearily.
Draco didn’t look at him. He just continued methodically putting family-sized bags of various flavors of chips into the basket. “I’m stocking up.”
“By turning our pantry into a FritoLay factory?”
Draco paused to glare at him, pointedly dropping a bag of sour cream and onion Lays into the cart. “My healer exams are coming up, and I need sustenance if I am to study properly.“
Harry raised an eyebrow, picking up a bag of chips from the cart. "And you think Doritos count as sustenance?”
Draco slapped the bag out of Harry’s hands, making it land in the cart. “I didn’t say anything about the empty soda cans you left lying on the carpet when you studied for your cursebreaker exams,” he said pointing an accusatory finger at Harry. “Now let me buy my exam comfort foods without judgment.”
Harry held up his hands placatingly. “Alright, but we should at least get you something more substantial. Maybe with protein.”
“You’ll have to catch me first!” Draco said with a smirk. He quickly lifted one foot up onto the bottom bar of the cart and used the other foot to push off behind him, rolling away rapidly with a bright cackle tossed over his shoulder.
Harry huffed and allowed himself a moment of fond exasperation before chasing Draco down the aisle.
Happy blogversary to the wonderful Liv @sitp-recs!!!
Liv has brought so many people into the Drarry fandom through her recs, including myself. She is so generous with her time and knowledge, and her fic recs are gorgeous.
Liv, we want you to know just how loved and appreciated you are, and how important you are to so many people. I hope you enjoy this little snippet of soft boys.
I hate him, until he smiles. Before he smiles he is the saviour, he is the poster boy, he is the carrier of the weight of the world. But when he smiles he is Harry, my Harry.
Out there, for them, he must be strong, stoic. He is the perfect Head Auror, his Order of Merlin, First Class, beautifully polished before each gala, each press conference. I style his hair, straighten his collar, shine his shoes. I cannot go with him, but I am always there, hidden in the shadows where only he can see me. It is not perfect, but it is enough.
The public that praises him is the same one that spurns me. But they do not know what I know. They do not know that every word he speaks is written by me, his feet in my lap as we curl together by the fire. They do not know his impeccable manners have been drilled into him by me, over beans on toast and gooey brownies, during nights filled with laughter and love. That elegant waltz with which he leads the Minister’s wife is the same one that spins me around our living room as I hold him close, soothing his fears with my heartbeat alone.
His public persona is perfect, free from any crack or strain. Each day he layers on his mask and steps out into a world that, to him, is as bleak as the one he grew up in. The public sees only the victorious saviour. I am the only one who knows the weight on his shoulders, knows that he will never consider himself done.
But at the end of the day, he walks back through the door, allowing his mask to melt away. The darkness is left outside, his eyes always blinking as if in wonder at the light, the freedom, that he has walked into. He allows me to fold him into my arms, to bundle him up and protect him from the world, for just a little while.
My life is full of so many mistakes, so many wrongs that I cannot atone for. But I can do this. I can love him, protect him. I can soften the edges that the day has wrought on his body, on his mind. I can show him a love that no one had ever shown him before, whisper I love you into his skin. You’re worth it.
I hate watching him go every morning, brows furrowed, shoulders tight. But here, in our tiny cottage, I see him smile. And I love him, love him, love him.
Omggg@sitp-recs Liv of all Livness, first of her name, Queen of reccing, the doyenne of fic-reccery. Its your two-year tumblr-versary!!!!
What can I say about this kind, enthusiastic member of fandom, who raises people up and brings such joy to creators and readers alike? Only that you’re a lovely person, and awesome in every way. One who writes recs that make grown adults weep in gratitude over a single carefully crafted sentence about their work. And who’s introduced me personally to so many fics I might have missed and converted me to kinks and pairings I might have never sampled. A Drarry fan but also a staunch supporter of rarer pairs, which is why I’ve strayed from my usual wheelhouse to write a little Harry x Sirius for you, Miss Sit-pee.
(Explicit, 1.7k words, Harry x Sirius, tags: Cross-gen, age gap, wall sex)
Summary:
Nothing has been said, nothing solemnly sworn, but they both know what’s going to happen. They’ve known from the minute Sirius suggested this weekend away by the beach.
Thanks as always to my wee pal and fellow scone-scoffer @tackytigerfic for the beta.
Liv, you are such a positive force in this fandom. So many of us wouldn’t be here for you if it weren’t for your lists and all the heart and attention you pour into them. To express my love and gratitude, I wrote this little fic for you. I hope you like it!
I used to love pub night, especially after everything—the War and all the bullshit that came along with it. Pub night was sacred. It didn’t matter who was working or travelling or struggling to get out of bed, every week we’d drag ourselves to this shitty little pub to drink warm pints and make horrible jokes and wallow in our misery.
Now…well, now I hate pub night.
And I hate it because Draco’s here with that stupid wanker he calls ‘darling’, but whose name is really Maximilian, as though that’s any name at all. I refuse to call him Maximilian—or darling—so I usually call him shithead, and sometimes Max, if I’m feeling generous.
I’m five drinks in and losing my train of thought…all that matters is that Max is a pretentious wanker, and I really shouldn’t hate him for it because most of the time Draco’s a pretentious wanker too.
Except I’m in love with Draco and love makes you crazy which means I like Draco when he’s a pretentious wanker.
And they’re at the bar…snogging. Like we’re not public, like there might not be impressionable young children or dark wizards around. You just never know—constant vigilance as Mad-Eye would say. So I’m watching some stupid pretentious wanker kiss my Draco and the pint glass shatters in my hand and I have to pretend it was an accident.
“Oops,” I say, shaking my dripping fingers at Max and his dumb hair. He makes this face and I imagine him getting hit by the Knight Bus, which honestly makes me feel loads better about the whole thing.
“Harry, that’s disgusting,” Draco whines and he’s so annoying—but also so fucking cute—when he’s being a brat that I want to scream. Or punch Max.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to, my hand, uh—slipped.”
“You’re such a heathen,” he says, flashing me that handsome smirk, and I want to scream again. “I can’t believe I’m friends with—”
“We’re not friends.”
Shit. Shit shit shit.
There’s an uncomfortable pause. I’m staring at Draco, who’s staring at me as Max attempts—unsuccessfully—to snog him.
“What did you say?”
Well, in for a Knut, in for a Pound—or whatever.
“You heard me.” I square my shoulders, keeping my eyes fixed on Draco’s blank expression and avoiding Max’s horrid kiss-y face. “We’re not friends.”
“What the hell are you on about?”
“I just—”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because…because we’re just not.” And bloody hell is that the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.
“Really?” Draco sneers, arching his pale brow, and it’s so Fifth Year that I expect to see the Inquisatorial Squad march around the corner. “That’s all you have to say? We’re just not—you know what? Fuck you, Potter.”
It’s the Potter—hissed through clenched teeth, a curse rolling off that sharp tongue—that does it.
“Fine. You know what?!” I’m yelling, and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Fuck you, Malfoy.”
Goddamnit, why did I have so many drinks? The whiskey might as well have been Veritaserum.
“I’m in love with you,” I say, my voice breaking right along with my heart. “And I can’t be your friend—I just can’t.”
Draco looks like he might cry, Max looks like he’s been stunned, and I hate them both. But I hate myself more for falling in love with the one person who could never love me back.
Then Max tries to grab Draco’s hand, and I decide that, actually, I hate him the most.
There’s nothing left to say, and I’m certainly not staying here to watch Malfoy snog someone who isn’t me, so I leave—run right out of the pub like the coward I am. Ignoring Ron’s shout and Pansy’s glare, I stumble out the door and onto the wet pavement.
There’s no way I can Apparate, I’d probably end up with my dick in Bristol or some shit, which means a long fucking walk home. Enough time to figure out how to Obliviate myself so I can start a new life somewhere far, far away from Draco sodding Malfoy.
“Harry—wait, damnit!”
“Can we not do this now?” I slow my steps anyway, even though it’s the second worst idea I’ve had all night. “Look, it’s dumb—”
Except Draco doesn’t let me finish, he shoves me against the nearest wall and kisses me. I’m kissing Draco—he tastes like expensive vodka, Max is nowhere to be seen, and I never want it to end.
I’m considering Apparating us to my flat, splinched dicks and all, when Draco breaks away. He’s breathing hard, but he’s still got me pinned and I’m desperate to rip all his clothes off.
“Since I can’t be your friend, can I be your boyfriend instead?” I ask stupidly, because I’m somehow more drunk from his lips than from the whiskey.
Draco rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are pink and he’s smiling which I hope means we’ll be snogging again soon.
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
He kisses me again, and bloody hell, I love pub night.
Happy May! This month marks this blog’s two-year anniversary and a very much appreciated follower milestone. I never imagined that small quarantine project would last this long, but I’m incredibly happy to be part of this community, and grateful for the special friends I made along the way. My mind usually goes blank when I try to think of ways to celebrate but I wanted to do something different from what I’ve done in the past so here’s an idea: why not give a shoutout to authors and fics that have been around for a while but I rarely see being recced? I noticed some of these writers aren’t on Tumblr so this is about helping fellow readers find hidden gems they may not find otherwise. I wasn’t able to write reviews for each fic but I’ve listed the main tropes, hopefully everyone will find something for their tastes. Happy readings!!
Such an underrated author! I love the light and soothing depth of their works, and how they combine humor, angst and deliciously hot smut into charming slice-of-life that feel both fresh and creative. And the werewolf fics are *chef’s kiss* for those who enjoy some found family goodness! Speaking of, An Act of Kindness is my all-time favorite flatmates romance, and one of the fics I reread the most. Enjoy!
As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag. Read my rechere.
A Strange Sort of Fluff (2014, E, 10k) - meet cute, sex workers to lovers, non-linear / double POV narrative, healthy relationship!
Harry and Draco run into one another in the strangest of places -a porn set.
After Teddy transforms into a werewolf for the first time Harry and Andromeda don’t know what to do. They consult an adult werewolf to help Teddy adjust and that werewolf turns out to be one Draco Malfoy. Read my rec here.
The Elusive Mate (2014, E, 25k) - werewolf Drarry, soulmates, organic falling in love, found family, long-haired Draco as a treat
Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy. Read my rec here.
What a fantastic premise, can’t wait to dig into these!!! Happy anniversary, Liv!!!
Draco Malfoy has a unique gift—he can see Magical Auras and the way they interact. Both a curse and a blessing, his talent let him become an exceptional Curse-Breaker but ruined most of his relationships, including The One Draco still can’t quite shake. When he’s unexpectedly summoned to Grimmauld Place 12 to dispel a particularly stubborn jewellery box, complicated spellwork isn’t the only thing Draco has to face in the next several days.
Harry Potter’s sons are now grown men and their Auras are not what Draco would ever expect. Nor is their unabashed, persistent interest—and Draco could never resist a Potter.
– I’m very happy to share my biggest art project so far, one that took a very, very long time, tons of effort, and a tremendous amount of energy. I’m very proud I managed to piece this together and extremely grateful for the support from my friends and the lovely feedback in the comments.
Please read the tags on the work before you decide to proceed.
I worship authors that explore post-war angst with raw and unapologetic honesty, taking into account all the implications and complications traumatized kids have to face. The angst hurts so good you can feel it in your bones but it’s also something sweet, relatable, full of meaning and truth. Go check these fics for mature and honest romance, poignant h/c with a happy ending, Harry’s bi crisis without throwing Ginny under the bus, and all the ways he’s allowed to find Draco happiness, closure and healing.
Drarry:
Only a Change of Time (2018, E, 2.3k) - 51 years of Draco’s life in 2k, sad boys finding each other, clubbing, angst with a happy ending
Sometimes, finding love takes many seasons.
Begin As You Mean To Go On (2018, E, 2.8k) - comfortPWP, clubbing, hair pulling kink incredible character study (Harry)
The first time, it was an accident. The second time, Harry’s going to have to ask. Read my rec here.
Poor Unfortunate Souls (2019, E, 19k) - post-war angst, marriage crisis, unplanned pregnancy, Auror Harry, potioneer Draco, angst with a happy ending, Legilimency sex
Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there’s an octopus in the lobby. Read my rec here.
Rare pairs:
Have You Ever? (2019, E, 9k) - Charlie/Harry salt and pepper romance!!!!!! First time, hand kink, fluff & smut combo yes pls
Half a lifetime ago, Harry spent an awful summer in Romania with Charlie Weasley. Now, he’s determined to follow up on the seeds that were planted back then.
Bespoke (2021, E, 12k) - post-war Harry/Draco/Ginny, angst & smut, everyone is bisexual, multiple POV, plus a superb character study (Ginny) as a treat!!
Bespoke: adjective meaning custom-made, one-of-a-kind, tailored perfectly. Something rare and precious, carefully crafted to precise specifications. Often used to describe clothing; in this case, used to describe a dynamic between three powerful people about to spend an ill-advised evening together.
I love @doubleappled! What a great writer with such an inventive and compelling approach to their fics. I remember Wireless 2019 so well, and Poor Unfortunate Souls blew me away. I also loved the navigation of the triad dynamics in Bespoke - such sensitive nuanced writing. @sitp-recs knocking it out of the park as per.
