#happy snowbaz day! 🥳🥳🥳 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orange-peony · 1 year

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I posted 1,328 times in 2022

That's 179 more posts than 2021!

89 posts created (7%)

1,239 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@artsyunderstudy

@crazybutgood

@rockingrobin69

@facewithoutheart

@bubble-gumhead

I tagged 1,323 of my posts in 2022

#drarry fanart - 259 posts

#snowbaz - 165 posts

#drarry fic recs - 159 posts

#😍😍😍 - 157 posts

#co fanart - 124 posts

#snowbaz fanart - 116 posts

#hp fanart - 103 posts

#my writing - 95 posts

#writing - 77 posts

#omg - 75 posts

Longest Tag: 83 characters

#i also just received a really long comment on why the first chapter of my fic sucks

My Top Posts in 2022:

Happy birthday @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm !!! 🎉🥳🎂

Here's a little something for you, because you're wonderful and your beautiful art brightens up my days. 600 words on soulmates, rated T.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Draco asks, and Harry's reply doesn't come as a surprise, not really.

"Absolutely not," Harry declares without turning. He stirs the pasta sauce and smacks his lips in satisfaction after tasting it.

Draco can see the explosion of colours in the sky from the kitchen window. His tiny kitchen feels warm and cosy, and his heart flutters like a little bird when Harry turns to smile at him. Merlin, Draco loves this man so much that sometimes it feels like his heart can't possibly contain all the feelings he has for him.

"How come?" Draco insists, because he loves hearing about Harry's opinion on pretty much anything.

"I believe we make our own destiny," Harry says, grabbing a few leaves from Draco's basil plant and chucking them into the sauce. "I don't think magic or predestination have anything to do with love."

It reminds Draco of that thing he read in a Muggle library, about Homo faber suae quisque fortunae. Every man is the artisan of his own destiny.

"What about prophecies?" Draco asks.

Harry snorts, grabbing a pan from the drying rack and filling it with tap water.

He looks absolutely gorgeous in Draco's kitchen, as if he belonged in his miniature Muggle flat with all the pot plants and the colourful rugs Draco bought at Camden Market.

"I believe you make of them what you want," Harry replies.

Draco doesn't tell him about the prophecy that was made about him when he was born. That an old witch predicted Draco would lose everything, only to gain one thing that would be more important than all the rest. Draco knows with every fibre of his being that the prophecy meant Harry, but he doesn't say it.

He strokes the warm fur of the cat asleep on his lap instead, and Oatmilk purrs in contentment. Draco stretches his legs under the table, and Vanilla plays with the red pompoms of his slippers, her paw touching them carefully and making Draco smile.

"So you don't believe that people are meant to find each other?" Draco murmurs, but what he actually wants to ask is if Harry doesn't believe they're destined to be together.

"We choose who we want to be with," Harry insists, turning to look him straight in the eyes. His gaze is so intense that Draco feels a flush colouring his own cheeks. "I chose you, Draco. And I choose to be with you every day of my life."

"Hmm," Draco mumbles, because he's this close to saying those three little words he's never said to anyone. They've never felt as real as they feel now with Harry.

He imagines a red thread connecting his little finger to Harry's, linking them by destiny or love or whatever biggest force rules the universe.

"Draco, we're together because we are…" Harry starts, his face turning crimson, and Draco is worried he might say something dreadful like sexually compatible or shagging like rabbits all the time, but Harry moves closer, interlacing their fingers together and bringing Draco's hand to his lips to kiss it tenderly. "We are…I mean, at least I am…I didn't mean to presume - Merlin's pants on fire, why is this so bloody hard?"

Draco stares at him, his eyes widening in understanding as Harry's ears turn red.

"I love you," Draco says softly. "So much."

Harry's smile blooms on his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and his eyes shine so bright.

"I love you too," he says before leaning closer for a kiss that tastes like basil and sunsets and love.

239 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt "shock".

"I used to miss you over the summer," Draco says, a whisper in the darkness.

Harry sits up in bed, opening the curtains of his four-poster bed to reveal Draco's prone body, a slither of moonlight illuminating his scarred face and neck. He's staring at the ceiling, avoiding Harry's burning gaze.

"Come again?" Harry blurts out, his mouth suddenly dry.

He must have misheard.

His body is still thrumming with the feeling of Draco's warm skin against his. His lips tingle at the memory of Draco's soft mouth and desperate gasps when they kissed a mere hour ago.

It was all so sudden and unexpected, and Harry's still so confused. He doesn't know what to make of the storm in his stomach and the overwhelming need to cross the room and kiss Draco again, all over his body this time, tracing every inch of that milky white skin with his lips.

"I used to miss you," Draco murmurs, "all day, every day. The Manor was hot, and Father used to give me tasks to do, books to read, lessons on etiquette, but all I could do was think about you, wondering where you were and what you were doing."

There's a moment of silence that stretches for longer than Harry thinks possible.

"Really?" he asks, dumbfounded, because Draco must be joking. Maybe the kiss was a joke too, Harry thinks with a lump in his throat. Maybe it's all just a prank.

"You would be so skinny come September," Draco remembers, and Harry closes his eyes, trying to push back the memories of an empty stomach and an even emptier heart. "I would lie in my bed and wonder if you were eating enough, if you were on secret missions with Dumbledore and you couldn't find any food."

"My Muggle relatives never gave me enough to eat," Harry confesses, and he doesn't know why he feels so embarrassed admitting it. He's past thinking it was his fault, but it still feels so wrong.

"Oh," Draco breathes out, finally turning around to stare at Harry, his eyes big in the dimly lit room.

"C'mere," Harry mutters, and for a moment he thinks Draco will tell him to fuck off, but then he's getting up, moving fast and falling into Harry's arms as if he belonged there, face buried in the crook of Harry's neck.

"You smell nice," he says, words muffled against Harry's skin.

"I…" Harry starts, swallowing loudly. "I used to miss you too. Everything felt so empty without school, without my friends, without…your eyes searching for mine across the Great Hall."

"Yes," Draco confirms. "And no one was following me around."

Harry chuckles, pressing a tentative kiss on Draco's forehead.

"Attention seeking brat," he murmurs fondly.

"I'm just a fool in love," Draco replies.

327 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompts "rumor" and "pink".

"Mildred, look!" a woman says. "It's him again, on the cover of Witch Weekly. Isn't he gorgeous?"

"He's so hot," her friend replies wistfully, and Draco tries extremely hard not to roll his eyes, but it's the thirtieth wix to make inappropriate comments about that stolen photo of Harry in his swimming trunks this week.

Draco readjusts the glasses on his nose and keeps on arranging books for the display on queer wizarding literature. He's wearing horn-rimmed glasses today, black on the outside and pink on the inside. He would have never gone for that colour, fearing people's reactions, but Harry said they looked good on him, that he could get a matching pair, red on the inside. And Draco had to agree, because he's become a bloody softie.

"I bet he's on a secret Auror mission," the woman named Mildred says with a sigh. "He said he left the Forces a year ago, but I didn't believe him."

"I heard a rumour that he's working with the Unspeakables," her friend murmurs.

Draco doesn't tell them that Harry spends his days tending to the garden, baking bread and cakes for Draco and reading on the sofa.

"Have you heard about his most recent love affair?" Mildred asks. "His new flame is a beautiful blonde witch apparently."

Draco clears his throat and frowns. He wouldn't call himself a new flame. They've been married for five years. And he's certainly not a witch, for Merlin's sake, but it's not like he's going to tell them.

"I bet he's a stallion in bed," one of the witches whispers. "Rumour has it that he can go on for hours."

Draco doesn't say that sometimes Harry doesn't feel like having sex for weeks, but that he's always up for a cuddle.

He doesn't say that he spends his days waiting for Draco to come home from work, and then his smile is so radiant when Draco Apparates that it still makes Draco's stomach do an odd little backflip.

He doesn't tell them that they're happy together, in spite of their past and their nightmares.

That Harry loves him more than Draco thought anyone ever could.

He stands in front of them, smiles politely and asks, "Are you going to pay for that magazine now that you've drooled all over it? I would like to close the shop and go home to my lovely husband."

"I bet he's an ugly wanker like him," Mildred hisses as she leaves the shop.

Draco can't help but laugh.

409 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt “fool”.

Draco has never been kissed.

He’s twenty-fucking-two and has never been kissed.

And yes, it's probably foolish of him to hope it might happen this evening, at Madam Malkin's Grand Reopening Gala, but Potter looks like a walking wet dream in those shimmering blue robes Draco picked and tailored for him.

"Eyes up here, darling," Pandy reminds him.

Easy for her to say - her lipstick's all smeared after Ginevra snogged her silly in the restroom earlier.

"You could simply ask him to dance, you know?" Blaise drawls, sipping on his drink, but Draco huffs in irritation.

Because he's twenty-two, gay as a rainbow, stupidly in love with Harry Potter and has never been kissed.

And why would Potter even consider dancing with him, let alone kiss him?

"I'm off," he declares, summoning his cloak and ignoring his friends’ dramatic eye rolls.

He has nearly made it to the Floo when a hand wraps around his elbow.

“Malfoy, wait!” Potter calls, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when Draco turns around and gapes at him. “I mean…hi, how are you? Fancy s-seeing you here…”

“At my employer’s party?” Draco asks, confused. “She kind of forced me to come.”

“So I heard,” Potter says, then clears his voice, looking even more embarrassed. “Thanks for picking these robes for me. People keep on saying that I look great.”

“I’m sure that’s just because of you. Nothing to do with the robes,” Draco points out, then feels like an utter idiot for saying that out loud.

“No, no,” Potter insists, shaking his head. “I always find wizarding robes uncomfortable and stiff, and Hermione says I walk like a robot penguin, but these…they feel amazing!”

Draco smiles despite himself, proud of the work he’s done. He cast every softening spell under the sun on those robes, eager to make them perfect for Potter.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replies, tilting his head to better appreciate the way they hug Potter’s marvellous figure.

“There’s only one…err…problem,” Potter mumbles, torturing his curls with his fingers and suddenly staring at his feet. “I don’t…I have no idea how to take them off…”

“Oh,” Draco breathes out.

“So, if you could…maybe…” Potter says, moving his hands in the air in a sort of panicky wave. “Show me, you know.”

“Oh.” Draco murmurs, feeling his cheeks on fire, the blush probably spreading to his ears and neck. “Sure.”

“Great!” Potter exclaims, so loudly that a few heads turn in their direction.

Draco barely has the time to register Pansy’s evil grin and Blaise’s thumbs up when Potter grabs his wrist and side-alongs them to a cluttered bedroom decorated in Gryffindor colours.

Potter’s bedroom.

Fuck.

Draco takes a deep breath and tries to remind himself that he needs to stay professional.

Potter just needs help getting out of his robes, nothing weird about that. He grew up as a Muggle, and he doesn’t normally wear intricate formal robes, as he told Draco himself during the fitting.

Deep breath.

Potter stands in front of him, eyes so green behind the lenses of his glasses, his lips slightly parted and his skin smelling of oranges and cinnamon and something that makes Draco’s head spin madly.

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451 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt "teamwork".

A 5+1 of Draco looking for a new flat.

This is rated M.

“Here's the bedroom,” the lady says, pointing at a single bed and a tiny bookshelf.

Luna hums, tilting her head, and Draco’s eyebrow automatically goes up.

“House rules are simple,” the woman adds, “no meat, no loud music and absolutely no pets."

"Sounds reasonable," Draco comments, wondering what it's going to be like to become vegetarian.

“You can’t have any people over,” the lady says sternly.

"But what about Harry?" Luna asks, looking heartbroken. "He's going to be so sad without you."

"No boyfriends!" the woman shouts, looking outraged, and Draco's lips curl up viciously, ready to give her a piece of his mind.

"Tell you what," Luna says later at the café, "you should just move in with Harry. He's always saying how he's lonely and loves spending time with you."

~ . ~

"This is…" Draco mumbles, trying to find something positive to say about the house they're visiting. Anything positive.

"Utter shit," Weasley comments.

"Rather unsanitary," Hermione says at the same time, elbowing her boyfriend.

"I just don't understand why you don't want to ask Harry," Weasley says, lifting a newspaper with the tip of his fingers and yelping when something scurries away from under it.

"Harry would love to have you at Grimmauld," Hermione insists, casting a cleaning charm so strong that it makes Draco's teeth rattle.

"And he's got a million rooms," Weasley adds. "Much better than this."

~ . ~

"The rent is 700 pounds per month," the man declares. Draco swallows loudly, shaking his head.

"For this shithole you call a flat?" Pansy argues, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"At least it was clean," Draco mumbles later, accepting the cup of tea Blaise offers him.

"You wouldn't have been able to afford it," Blaise points out.

"You should just move in with Potter," Pansy says, studying him with her sharp gaze. "The sexual tension between you two is insane. Imagine the mind-blowing sex you could have."

"Shut up, Pansy. Pass me a biscuit, will you?"

~ . ~

"Darling you could always move back to the Manor," his mother says, her delicate fingers brushing against a rose before she prunes it mercilessly. "Your father is finally going to be released from Azkaban."

"Merlin save me…" Draco breathes out, shaking his head.

"Aren't you on friendly terms with the Potter boy?" Narcissa asks, eyeing him slyly. "You could always ask him."

"Farewell, Mother!"

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519 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my writing

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otherworldsivelivedin · 3 years

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Under the cut you will find links to...

16 Teen to Explicit rated Snowbaz:

Canon Compliant / Post Canon

Canon Divergence

Alternate Universe

CANON-COMPLIANT/POST-CANON

Good to You: for @ferelden-loser, words: 11,029—Rated: E

Simon has decided to treat Baz to a sophisticated meal for Valentine’s day; but when they get there, they find they’re more interested in each other than the food.

🥂😏🥂😏

Three Sheets to the Wind for RooBadley, @giishu and @ninemagicks, words: 1,608—Rated: T

Simon and Baz have had a few too many bevvies and are off their face. Trashed. Utterly wellied. And, for some reason, Baz’s eyebrow looks down right good enough to lick.

47 British ways of saying "I'm drunk" and a messy Baz's sexy eyebrow dancing.

👬🍷👬🍷

Hot in Here: for @xivz, words: 2,599 —Rated: M

Simon Snow can’t dance.

At least, that’s what I thought.

Post-canon, 90s/00s R&B, Thirst Trap!Simon

🥳🕺🥳🕺

Sweet Like Chocolate, words: 2,491 —Rated: T

Simon wants to get out of London and Baz knows just the place... full of chocolate, soft Christmas vibes, childlike wonder, snow and more fluffy softness than I’ve ever let myself write before ❤️ (and a tiny bit of jealous Baz, because I love that shit)

Post-canon, soft as fuck, engaged and happy

🍫🍫🍫🍫

Omertà, words: 5,711 —Rated: T

(Vera’s a Normal. She rationalizes all our strangeness by pretending we’re in the Mafia. Father spells her innocent whenever it gets to be too much for her.) - p.157, (Kindle Edition.)

Oblivious Vera™, on the day Baz gets kidnapped.

Omertà - (n.) An oath, Taken by the Mafia; Code of Silence

“Deleted” scene, TW: Kidnapping (canon level), Perceived Mafia Violence (not explicit)

🍷🍷🍷🍷

Serves You Right, words: 11,127 —Rated: T

Cook Pritchard does the cooking, with a few helpers, and we all take turns serving at mealtimes. On weekends, it’s help yourself. - p.34 (Kindle Edition)

...what if Simon and Baz were forced to serve together at mealtimes?

Simon & Baz growing up together (Years 5-8), Canon-compliant, “deleted” slice of life scenes, 5+1

🧈🧈🧈🧈

Cater to You, words: 2,259 —Rated: T

Simon’s been therapy baking for a while now, and we all know Lady Ruth loves to feed everybody cake...

Post-canon ❤️soft Snowbaz❤️, because it’s a basic requirement on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

Follow-up ficlet to Serves You Right but, as everything is canon-compliant, you don't have to read Serves You Right first!

🍰🍰🍰🍰

Today was awful, but then there was you, words: 845 —Rated: T

Simon has had a bad day. Baz is worried and wants to comfort him, but will Simon talk?

Post-canon, emotional hurt/comfort, domestic

🍝🍝🍝🍝

Agatha Returns, words: 656 —Rated: T

Agatha returns from California and Penny may have messed up... hasn’t Simon told Agatha yet? Oops.

CO Canon-compliant, WS Divergence.

👬👬👬👬

CANON-DIVERGENCE

Phantom at the Opera: for @tea-brigade, words: 13,388 —Rated: E

Simon Snow is stuck at the opera with his bloody ex—stuffy tux and strangling bow tie included. He might as well just drown his sorrows at the bar; it’s shaping up to be an awful night, after all. That is, until he spots a familiar raised eyebrow. (Merlin. Has it always been that attractive?)

Includes Art!

Reunion, Second Chances, Banter, So much flirting and thirst, Violinist!Baz, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Foreplay, Praise Kink, Early twenties Snowbaz

🥂😏🥂😏

Raising a Demon 😈: with @scone-lover for @krisrix, words: 28,571 —Rated: T

Magickal Life Skills class doesn’t seem like it can get any worse… that is, until the 7th years are given fake Magickal babies to take care of for a week. Tasked with keeping a tiny human alive, Simon and Baz must deal with the trials and tribulations of Magickal parenting, including crying, night feeds, and… explosions?

It’s a chaos demon. Instructions not included.

Crack with feelings, and they were fake parents oh my god they were fake parents

😈😈😈😈

This is Our Lives: for @liz-snow, words: 4,298 —Rated: T

When Madam Bellamy assigned us a “This is Your Life” essay about our roommates, I thought I’d hit the jackpot.

This is your evil life, Basilton Pitch; full of sacrificial virgins, dark rituals and rats that must taste rank.

Turns out, we actually have to interview each other.

And sometimes, answers only bring about more questions. (Questions I don’t want to think about.)

Getting Together, Watford 7th year, Emotional hurt/comfort, Enemies to loves in 4K

✍️✍️✍️✍️

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Shot to the Heart: for @scone-lover, words: 5125 —Rated: T

Baz is on the rug. He’s supposed to be dead, probably. Instead he looks up into the barrel of a haphazardly handled gun and the crazed blue eyes of a man in a neon green tracksuit.

Simon’s a thief, just looking to make some easy cash by looting a dead man’s flat. But, turns out, the man isn’t dead after all. (Does that mean he has to kill him?)

OR: The one where Snowbaz have a meet-ugly and agree to be a shitter, low-budget version of Bonnie and Clyde.

😈👬😈👬

I Meant It, You’ll See: for @vampire-named-gampire, words: 6917 —Rated: T

If I’d have known when I woke up this morning that I’d be chasing after a bloke with what I’m pretty sure are romantic feelings sloshing around in my gut, I’d have gone straight back to bed.

Especially if I’d known that bloke would be Baz.

But, I have to go after him. I can’t let him board that train without telling him I meant it.

Everything was the same—but no magic, Rom-com style feel good, banter, text fic, Older Snowbaz Flatmates

📱 📱📱📱

Watford Wonderland: for @vampire-named-gampire, words: 8,288 —Rated: T

Simon and Baz are yearly rival crochet peddlers at the Christmas Market, but it seems this year, Simon’s thoughts and feelings for Baz are getting all tangled up in knots.

Severe misuse of crochet puns and metaphors, you’ve been warned.

Non-magical Alternate Universe, rivals to lovers

🧶🧶🧶🧶

Strangers Like Me: Words: 19, 421 —Rated: T

The Magickal Creatures of Britain have been hiding in their gilded cage for far longer than any of the Dragon Elders can remember by the time Ebb hears a baby crying outside the Gate.

Simon is taken in and raised alongside the rest of the dragons and magickal creatures in Wales; but whilst he hopes that most of his new “family” accept him, it’s common knowledge that humans will suck them dry of magic, given half the chance.

When Strangers arrive at the edge of the forest, Simon takes it upon himself to do anything he can to protect his family. They’re suspicious, after all—especially that one human, with his long dark hair and piercing eyes.

Humans aren’t to be trusted. Humans are monsters, aren’t they?

COBB Art

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Simon is raised by Dragons, Scholar!Baz, Expedition seeking magic/creatures, Welsh Mythology & Folklore, Elemental Magic, So much worldbuilding, Slow Burn

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