Writer applications are still up and running but will be closing on Thursday night. This is because I really hope to have the blog reopened by Sunday. Is this realistic? Probably, hopefully, all that.
Anyway, if you are interested in writing for us, please do apply! I haven’t quite decided the amount of writers that will be let through, so please, please give it a go!
All you need to do is fill out the quick application form and submit an application to the app blog! Good luck!
Application’s are now open!
So currently it is just lonely me getting your requests out there, so I’m pretty eager to get some awesome people to join me so I can get the blog up and running as soon as possible.
Yes, you’ve guessed it. Writer Applications are now officially open!
I haven’t quite decided how many people will be accepted yet, but don’t worry about that! It depends on how many of you will absolutely wow me (and I know you guys will!)
There are a few requirements for our writers:
- You can speak English fluently, and have a good grasp on spelling, punctuation etc.
- You will be able to write to a quota, it won’t be much, I promise, probably a easy, monthly minimum.
- You are willing to write pretty much any HP ship (there are exceptions if you really are uncomfortable, just let me know.)
- Include an image (weheartit is recommended.)
If you’re interested, fill out this application form first and then submit a new HP drabble of your choice to our app blog (you’ll have to message us for the password, though, so we can get an estimate of how many applicants we’re gonna have). When you go to submit the drabble, make sure you click on the rules and read it carefully, please! The deadline for applying is Thursday; I’ll contact you guys by then if you’re through to the next round of applying!
If you have any questions, message us.
As you know the blog was shut down last month. Since then, I’ve taken over the blog and it will be reopening soon. (There’s not really a definite date yet. I still have a couple fires to put out and definitely am in need for writers!)
Just quickly on me, I used to write for the blog and was running it with the old admin, (AJ) then I left, and now I’m back! Yay! So I totally understand the vibe and how to run this blog.
Soon I’ll be looking for more writers, so shoot me a message if you’re interested! Hope to talk to some of you soon.
~ Paige ( the new active admin)
Oh my god, this means so much to read. Despite how popular the blog became, it still wonderful to get messages like this :)
I’m going to use this as an opportunity to let everyone who follows this blog know: we’ve shut down. It’s been a long time coming, quite frankly; none of the writers were particularly dedicated to the blog anymore, nor did they have inspiration to write the requests.
This blog has been like a child to me, so it is really sad to see it go, but it was the best option. It wouldn’t have been fair on anyone for us to be writing when it felt like a chore, or for the people requesting the drabbles if the response would be half-hearted.
The old drabbles are still available to be read on the archive page you want to read them.
(so, in response, it wasn’t due to your message; it just prompted us into making it more definite).
Sirius/Marlene and Dorcas/Remus: A jealous Sirius speculating at all the ways that Marlene and Remus would be perfect together as he watches them talk—while they, in turn, are discussing Remus’ adoration of Dorcas. For anon.
"They look happy," Sirius said distastefully, his eyes boring into the backs of two of his best friends’ heads, "Look."
Dorcas followed his gaze and had to restrain herself from chuckling. Which was proving very difficult. “Yeah, I guess.”
"They’d be great together, don’t you think?" he added. "They’re both young, attractive — don’t you dare tell them I told you that. McKinnon’s into sports and Remus… isn’t. Balance each other out well, right?" The words he said posed as a question to her but Dorcas knew it was his observational statement.
"If you say so," she offered. She could see what he was saying; they would be alright together but she had known Marlene long enough to know the girl wouldn’t even think of it. However, she found it incredibly amusing of how he sounded, the way he was watching them so closely without realising. "You know, Black, you almost sound jealous."
"Jealous?" he scoffed and his head snapped sideways to look at her, adamantly turning away from the two people he was watching closely. "Sirius Black doesn’t do jealous."
"Mhm," Dorcas replied with an unconvinced look on her face. She rolled her eyes and stood up straight before spinning herself to walk away, calling over her shoulder. "I’ll leave you to your brooding now."
Hinny: Seventh year pregnancy, for anon.
“I’m sorry.” Ginny sobs into her hands in front of him. The sun is setting on the horizon behind the Borrow in the distance. She hadn’t told anyone but him. Too afraid.
Harry takes her hands from his face, holding them both in his left hand while wiping his tears with the other. “It’ll be okay, Gin.”
“It won’t.” Ginny says, walking away from the shed with sudden defensiveness.
Harry follows her, quickly. She’s fast, but the adrenaline of the news makes him faster. “But it will.”
“This is all too fast. Why did I ever think that telling you would make anything better?”
“Things are getting better.” He wasn’t lying. Hogwarts was rebuilt, they were safe again, and time was very slowly beginning to heal the pain of loss.
“They aren’t Harry. I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“When did I say that you were a little girl?”
“I see things. I watch Mum cry at night. I see George maybe fake a laugh sometimes. It’s not getting any better.” She kicks some leaves in his direction. “Now, I’m just adding to the problems.”
“Don’t say that, Gin. They want you to be happy. They want us to be happy. This baby will make all of happy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, I’ve already asked your father for permission to marry you. We were bound to have children eventually. Why not now?”
Dramione: For anon.
If you tell me I was in love with her a year ago, I would have cursed you and/or tell you.
But a year does a lot, especially when you begin to know her - really know her - in the span of ten months.
I noticed but never liked the way her bushy hair would stick to her face when she got flushed. Or the way loose strands would hang out when she pulled her hair back. Or splotchy patches of pink that splattered her cheeks when she got upset or excited. The way her eyebrows scrunched over her eyes as she thought, the way a small smile danced on her lips as she read, the way her teeth chewed on the end of her quill before she scribbled something down. The way she would interrupt a conversation just to correct something someone said, the way she double-checks she has everything before going out, the way her eyes rolled constantly. The way she would always be on time because she has a habit of checking her watch every other minute, the way she hummed under her breath whilst she listened to the stupid radio she had on in the kitchen, the way she would tap her foot with impatience all the time. I noticed but never liked.
Did I know when I began to pay so much attention to her? I didn’t. I didn’t notice my eyes would drift to her when we were in the same room, and I didn’t notice that I ended up picking habits she had done crossly when we bickered. I knew she was infuriating, and I knew everything she said either pissed me off or got to me. That was just how it worked.
I ignored it for so long because it wasn’t my place, I knew. She was out of boundaries — it was all so clear and she was untouchable. Even when I didn’t like her back at Hogwarts, and even when the war had long been over, and even when I stopped caring about blood prejudice.
So when I saw her again, after nearly a year of being close enough to deem friends, I smiled because she didn’t know. I smiled because what I did best was hiding my feelings. I smiled because things changed and I had moved along with it.
One day she will know I fell in love with her. Maybe when I’m braver.
Remus/Lily: during fifth year, for anon
During the end of fifth year, in the weeks at the end of the year where you’re still going to class but not learning, you date a girl. You date a girl with red hair, whose shoulders burn red when she’s out in the sun for too long, and is almost as tall as you are. You date a girl named Lily, a name that is thrown around enough in your dormitory that she’s become more of a concept than an actual person.
But then you get to know her for who she really is.
You learn that she loves chocolate ice cream but only when it has raspberry sauce on, and that she got the scar in her eyebrow from falling off a slide when she was six. She tells you, when you’re sat in the common room near the window trying to catch a breeze, that she wants to teach when she graduates but doesn’t have the patience for it, and proves her point by daydreaming while you try to tell her about your plans for the summer. You figure out that her sister resents her when you ask her about her family and she stutters and skirts around the subject, and in return you tell her that your dad feels guilty that you were bitten. You think you know everything about her, that you could answer anything.
Your relationship is filled hazy conversations about nothing next to the lake, and the texture of grass against your skin. Just looking at her made it hard for you to breathe, and you spent so much time with her that you only ever saw your friends—your best friends, the first proper friends you ever had, your comrades in mischief—in class and in the half hour before you fall asleep, but it didn’t matter because you had Lily, whole and complete in full technicolor.
But then you realise (both of you do) that there’s nothing there; you’ve not even so much as kissed, that you’re good friends at most. You stop holding your breath when she walks into the room and you start to notice how her eyes trail after James and the way he fills the room; you know that you can never hold a candle to what she feels for him. It’s when you figure out you’re okay with that that you break it off.
You laughed about how ridiculous you both were, and, yeah, you are better off as friends.
Teddy/Dominique: For anon.
"No, no, conjuration is limited by the Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration." Teddy sighed at the younger girl, his eyes rolling teasingly.
Dominique frowned and her fingers reached up to run her temples. “I can’t get this, Teddy. It’s too hard and I won’t remember it all. You know Transfiguration isn’t my best subject.”
"If I can get an E on it for my NEWTs, you can pass your OWLs," Teddy rolled his eyes. "I only left last year — if you listen, I can actually teach it to you."
She grumbled as she scratched out why she just wrote in her essay and rewrote it.
"I don’t see why Vic couldn’t just teach it to you," he added and he grabbed her quill to scratch out another sentence.
"I told you," she replied tightly, "Vic’s busy. I didn’t want to tell her I was failing Transfiguration, anyway, so I asked Louis and he said to ask you, since you did so well in your exams." There was a slight edge in her words of resentment but Teddy ignored it.
"I didn’t do that well. Honestly, your family exaggerates too much," he said fondly.
"Yeah, whatever," she sighed and pointed to her work again. "Merlin, can’t we just take a break now? Relax my brain?"
"Why, what do you have in mind?" He smiled, his eyes glinting, and Dominique grinned in response. He leaned down to kiss her, her lips meeting his hastily. Her work was left forgotten for a while.