#Christmas Ganglie is never coming to me

[tappy-tutu]

I wasted nearly 1000 transient stones on trying to get the new Christmas Ganglie alt and of course I didn't get him because fuck my life so to make myself feel better here's all the art I've done of him

I'm so mad

[seecarrun]

(Part 2 of this)

“Wait, back?!”

Eddie’s head shoots up, his eyes wide. “Then!” he cries. “You liked me back then, is what I was saying!”

“You liar!” Richie laughs, clearly delighted. “You fucking liked me too!”

“I never said that!” Eddie tries to deny, but it sounds weak to even himself.

The thing is, and god, it’s embarrassing to admit, but Eddie had always had a bit of a thing when it came to Richie.

He didnt think it was exactly romantic, and definitely not anything sexual, when he was a kid; little-him would have been positively scandalized at the mere thought of it. But he was drawn to Richie, wanted his approval, his respect, needed Richie to include him in his inside jokes and think he was just as funny as Eddie found him.

Hell, maybe that was Eddie’s version of love. Not that he would know.

“I hate you,” he tells Richie, whose grin stretches even wider across his face. It’s basically an admission and they both know it. “You’re one to talk, anyway.” He gestures to the carving. “I wasn’t the one carving our initials into make-out spots.”

“Yeah, but you were cute. Liking you made sense,” Richie replies. “You remember me as a kid? You were into that gangly, bug-eyed, buck-toothed little dork? Embarrassing.”

“You were so cute!” Eddie cries, throwing away the act, offended on young-Eddie’s behalf to have his taste questioned. “Plus, you were cool.”

Richie bit back a snort. “I was not cool.”

“Shut up, you were!” Eddie looks him over, pouting just a little. “You’re still cool.”

“Cooler than you, Mr. Risk Analysis, but that isn’t saying much.” Eddie throws his arms up, ready to lay into him with the fury of a thousand suns, when Richie speaks again, quieter, “You’re still cute, ya know.”

Eddie flushes, glances at Richie briefly to catch him flushing as well, and bends down to pick up a stick from the side of the road. He gestures to the carving, shyly. “Wanna give this a bit of a facelift?” he asks. “We could grab a beer, after.”

Richie, looking like Christmas has come early, grabs a stick and pops back up, beaming and blushing adorably. “It’s a date.”

[theres-a-tvjoe]

as long as stars are above you - drw x sfk

Hi hi hi I’m back with another sanny fic because I can’t stop myself 🫡

Set in the same universe as ‘nice guys throw punches’ and just unmitigated, completely indulgent fluff.

Tags: proposal (!!), engagement, conspiring siblings, family fluff, softest boys in the world

READ ON AO3

- - -

“Okay, I’m just pulling up to the house to pick up Sam,” Josie whispers into the phone, not waiting for Danny to even say hello. She has one hand on the steering wheel of her car as she pulls up out front of the Kiszka family home, peering out the window to make sure Sam isn’t waiting outside.

“Why are you whispering?” Danny whispers back, sitting in his own car a block away where he won’t be spotted. “They can’t hear you.”

“Shut it, asshole,” Josie rolls her eyes, knowing Danny will be able to hear that even over the phone. “Which one of us is taking this plan seriously?”

Danny snorts. “I really doubt anyone is taking this plan more seriously than I am, considering it was my idea and I’m about to walk myself into the proverbial lion’s den.”

“A lion’s den you’ve had your own key for since you were like, 15. I’d hardly classify your second family’s home as a lion's den.”

“You know what I mean,” Danny nearly whines, sighing. “I’m nervous, Jo.”

Josie sighs fondly, sitting back against the driver’s seat as she puts the car in park.

“I know you are,” she says gently. “But Dan, they adore you. You’ve been a fixture in the Kiszka family for over a decade - well before you and Sam ever started dating. And now you’ve been together, what? Five years?”

“Six,” Danny provides, heart fluttering.

“Right,” Josie says. “So this isn’t going to be a surprise to them. They’re going to be thrilled and they’re going to be so touched that you wanted to do this.”

Danny exhales, nodding even though he knows Josie can’t see him.

“I just -,” he swallows. “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Jo. And thanks for helping.”

“You’re my big brother, Danny,” Josie says, her smile obvious through the phone. “And Sam is one of my favourite people - it’s not like it’s a hardship to hang out with him, even if I have to pretend it’s for a super secret early birthday present for you.”

“You better get me something good,” Danny says, smiling.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” she quips. “I already pre-ordered your big pile of nothing, just have to go pick it up -”

Danny hears a door close in the background of the call, and his heart kicks in his chest.

“Oh shit, he’s coming out,” Josie whispers. “You’ve got two hours - go ask for your blessing! Love you, bye!”

Danny doesn’t even get a word in before she’s hung up. He blows out a breath, starting his car and waiting until he’s sure Sam and Josie are gone before driving up to the Kiszka family home. A break from touring and Christmas coming up means everyone is home under one roof.

Danny gets out of the car, wiping his hands on his pants and taking a steadying breath. Here goes nothing.

-

Danny knocks twice on the door before opening it, just as he’s done since he first met the Kiszka family. It’s so instinctual even though Karen constantly reminds him he doesn’t need to worry, that he’s welcome any time.

“Knock knock,” he calls out, praying his voice doesn’t betray how nervous he is. He can hear sounds coming from the living room, the odd twang of a guitar amidst lively conversation.

Karen’s head pokes around the corner and she smiles widely, immediately coming forward with arms open for a hug.

“Hi honey!” she says, pulling Danny down for a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you today - Sammy just left.”

“I know,” Danny says, hugging Karen tightly. She’s always been so kind to him, welcoming him with open arms as a gangly teenager and never letting him go. “I actually came to see you all, if that’s okay.”

She presses a firm kiss to his cheek, patting the other one with a gentle hand.

“Of course it is, Daniel, you know that,” she gently admonishes him. She brushes a few errant snowflakes from his shoulders before leading him to the living room. “Come sit, we just made coffee.”

Everyone is seated comfortably in various spots, Jake reclined on the floor with his back against the couch, guitar in hand. Josh is folded like a pretzel in the arm chair, an obscenely large mug in one hand and a book of Mad Libs in the other (concerning, Danny thinks, because the last thing Josh Kiszka needs is a structured game for fart jokes, but he’ll worry about it later). Ronnie is sitting on the other side of the coffee table on the floor, working diligently at untangling a gnarled rope of twinkling lights.

“Hey kiddo,” Kelly says, smiling from where he’s seated on the couch. “Didn’t think we’d see you today - you want a coffee? Come sit.”

“I uh,” Danny clears his throat, wiping his palms on his pants again. God, why is he so sweaty all of a sudden? It’s snowing outside, for fuck’s sake. He’s wearing one of his favourite sweaters (re: one Karen bought him a few Christmases ago that’s covered in little knitted pine trees) and a nicer pair of pants, but he suddenly feels underdressed. “I came to talk to you guys, actually. All of you, if that’s okay.”

It seems to get their collective attention, Karen sitting with a worried expression next to Kelly and Jake setting his guitar down.

“Is everything okay?” Ronnie asks, hands stilling on the tangled lights.

“Yeah, yep,” Danny says, cracking his knuckles nervously. “It’s not - it’s good, not bad. I hope.”

“Sweetheart, why don’t you sit down?” Karen says gently, gesturing to the empty loveseat across from them all.

Danny nods, sitting.

He stands back up almost immediately, too nervous to sit still. He shifts on his feet, swallowing.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to the family sitting in front of him. Josh is giving him a worried look, and Jake’s gaze is steady but gentle. “Okay, yeah. So. Alright. Um.”

“Danny,” Josh says, shifting a little to sit forward. “It’s just us. What’s going on?”

Danny looks at them all, taking in the kindness and concern so evident on all of their faces. Faces he’s known for most of his life now. Faces he loves. Faces that are so reflective of the one he loves most in the world.

He nods, blowing out a breath. He makes himself sit down, resting his elbows on his knees and threading his hands together just so they’re occupied.

“You’ve all known me since I was so young,” he starts, praying his voice won’t break. “And you’ve never been anything but welcoming and kind. You gave me a second home like it was no big deal, fed me, cared for me, treated me like I was one of your own.”

Karen takes Kelly’s hand, squeezing it like she’s anticipating something.

“I want to thank you for that,” Danny says, looking at them. He’s doing his best to keep it together, but it’s getting harder by the second. “All of you. It means more to me than I could ever say, and I’m so grateful for each of you and the room you made for me in your lives. It’s a privilege that I don’t take for granted, and I want you to know that.”

“Of course we know that, Danny,” Kelly says, smiling softly. “We love you, kid.”

Danny nods, swallowing. He can feel tears burning behind his eyes, but resolutely keeps them at bay.

“I love you too, so much,” he says, and his voice wobbles a little. He clears his throat. “The respect I have for each of you and for this family is - I can’t even really put it into words. Your opinions and perspectives carry so much weight for me, and I know they do for Sam as well. You’re his world, you know? This family is everything to him, and he’s everything to me.”

“Danny -” Karen says gently, like she’s worried he’s about to fall to pieces.

He gives her a reassuring smile, laughing a little. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird,” he says. “But I’m almost there, I swear. I just have to say this. It’s important.”

Karen nods, squeezing Kelly’s hand and giving Danny an encouraging nod. Josh, Jake, and Ronnie are still watching Danny carefully.

“I got Josie to take Sam out this morning because I wanted to do this just us,” he explains. He sits up a little, heart pounding. “To have this moment, this conversation. And - well, I guess it’s not really asking for your blessing because we all know that Sam is going to do whatever he wants regardless of what anyone says, but -”

Karen gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Danny smiles, letting out a shuddering breath as he nods. He digs out a little box from his pocket, holding it in his hand.

“I’m going to ask Sam to marry me,” he says, and the words feel like a song. Like the perfect progression of chords, like a rhythm that never ends. He can’t help the nervous laugh that follows, because he just dropped his heart onto the coffee table and has to hope for the best. “And I wanted you all to know first, so that we could talk if, you know, if there was anything you were worried about.”

There’s a moment of silence, certainly no more than a few seconds, that feels like an eternity. And then it’s suddenly broken by a sound, a half hiccuped laugh punctuated by a sniffle.

It’s Jake. His chin is wobbling and there are tears filling his eyes faster than they can roll down his cheeks and he’s smiling.

“Oh, Jakey,” Josh sighs fondly with his own eyes shining, immediately getting out of the armchair to join his twin on the floor. He wraps his arm around his shoulders, tugging him close.

“Jake,” Danny breathes, his own eyes burning. He sits forward, half out of his seat. “Are you - hey, it’s okay -”

Jake shakes his head, still smiling while wiping roughly at his eyes.

“No, it’s - these are happy tears, I swear,” he croaks, voice breaking and choked with tears. “Jesus, Danny. You’ve been our brother for so long, and now it’ll be official.”

“If you’ll have me,” Danny manages to say, tears finally spilling over as he looks at them all. “If Sam will have me.”

That seems to set everyone into motion, all of them getting up and tugging Danny into a massive hug. They’re all crying, happy tears and excited laughter bubbling from the tangle of limbs they’ve made.

“Oh, this is just so special,” Karen sniffs, finally letting Danny go and wiping her eyes. “My first son-in-law!”

“Wait wait,” Ronnie says, holding her hand out. “You had a ring box. Show us!”

“Jake just stopped crying,” Danny teases, earning a whack from the younger twin. He opens the little black box, revealing the gold and black band inside. Golden letters shimmer through the silken black enamel:

ALWAYS

“You’re setting the bar way too high,” Ronnie sniffles, taking the ring out and looking at it. “He’s going to love it. God, he’s going to freak.”

“When are you going to do it?” Josh asks, taking his turn with the ring.

“Well, I was thinking tonight,” Danny says, grinning. “We’ve got a few days before Christmas, so we can celebrate and still leave room for actual Christmas stuff.”

“And then it’s your birthday,” Jake points out.

“Yeah, but that’s whatever,” Danny waves it away. Jake rolls his eyes in disagreement.

“There's supposed to be really nice snowfall tonight,” Danny continues. “So I think we’ll go for a walk. I’ll bring something warm to drink and tell Sam to bring his camera and then,” he wiggles the ring box.

Karen claps her hands together, looking at Kelly. “We can have everyone over tonight,” she says excitedly. “Danny, your family knows, right?”

Danny laughs, her excitement endearing. “They know, yeah.”

“Okay, oh my god,” she says, half spinning on the spot looking for her phone. “Kelly, call Dan and Lori, tell them we’re coming over. We can get everything ready there and then bring it back here so Sam doesn’t suspect anything. We’ll get champagne and snacks and when the boys get back we can surprise Sam and celebrate!”

“Mama,” Josh laughs, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders. “Maybe check with Danny and see if that’s something he wants as part of the night.”

Karen immediately presses her hand to her mouth, turning and grabbing Danny’s hands.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “I’m so sorry, honey! I’m just excited. But whatever you want, if you want the night to yourselves -”

Danny shakes his head, pulling her in for a hug.

“That all sounds amazing,” he insists. “Having everyone together would be perfect.”

Karen claps, nearly jumping up and down on the spot. She turns, looking at her family.

“Alright, Kiszkas. We have work to do!”

-

By the time Danny manages to wrangle Sam out of the house for an evening walk, the sun is beginning to set. They’d enjoyed dinner just the two of them, the house conveniently empty.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” Sam says, looking through the lens of his camera. “You were right. The light is really nice - god damned winter golden hour shit.”

Danny whistles. “Wow, I might have to write that down. You admitted I was right about something.”

“I’m known for my benevolence.”

“Uh huh,” Danny laughs, holding out a hand for Sam to take. It’s cold, but not so cold that it’s miserable to be outside. They’re bundled up, noses turning pink and breath visible, but the way the setting sun reflects off the snow makes it all worth it.

“Let’s go this way,” Danny says, leading Sam down the path to the nearby park. “Josie was telling me they strung up a bunch of twinkling lights over the bridge.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to put the moves on me, Wagner,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you trying to romance me? Woo me? I’m a tough sell, you know.”

Danny snorts. “Oh believe me, I know. You make me work for it.”

“Yeah, but worth the effort,” Sam grins, swinging their hands. They talk about everything and nothing, Sam artfully dodging questions about what he did during the day, thinking he’s keeping a birthday surprise for Danny a secret.

It’s incredibly endearing, and it eases the nerves fluttering in Danny’s stomach.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty,” Sam says, taking his hand back from Danny to snap a photo of the snow dusted park bridge. It’s small, arching pleasantly over a now frozen pond, and twinkling golden lights are strung from the trees on either side and through the railings.

“Here,” Danny says, holding his hand out for the camera. “Go stand on the bridge, I want to take a picture of you.”

“You have a million pictures of me,” Sam says, but hands it over as he walks onto the bridge, standing in the middle.

“Yeah, but this one is special,” Danny murmurs, holding the camera up to his eye. Sam is smiling widely, the glowing sun behind Danny lighting him just enough to paint him gold.

Once he takes it, he moves to join Sam on the bridge, thankful they have the park to themselves in the quiet evening.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling Sam close and pressing their cheeks together. He holds the camera out, hoping it’s at least a little in focus as he takes the selfie.

“That’s what front facing phone cameras are for, grandpa,” Sam teases, still smiling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny says. He swallows, heart beating a million miles a minute. “Hey, do me a favour?”

“Nope,” Sam says immediately, popping the p as he starts fiddling with his lens cap.

Danny rolls his eyes, because of course.

“Just -,” he grabs Sam by the shoulders, turning him to face the opposite way, his back to Danny.

“Don’t manhandle me, Daniel -“

“I have a surprise for you, you brat,” Danny laughs. “Shut up and let me do it.”

Sam makes a delighted noise. “Well in that case, carry on.”

“Thanks,” Danny says drily.

The sun is below the horizon now, stars just starting to twinkle overhead. The lights in the trees and on the bridge are casting everything in the golden glow and - just as Danny takes a deep breath - big, fluffy snowflakes start to fall.

He takes the ring box out of his jacket pocket, and lowers himself to one knee. He doesn’t feel the cold - every bone in his body, every nerve ending, every cell, every bit of stardust he’s made of is focused solely on Sam.

“Okay,” Danny says, thankful his voice comes out steady as he opens the box. “You can turn around now.”

Sam turns around, and it takes him a split second to realize Danny isn’t standing. His hands come up to his heart so fast that it almost looks like it hurts.

“Are you fucking serious,” he blurts.

Danny laughs, head thrown back. It’s the most Sam reaction he could’ve hoped for.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Danny says softly, smiling up at him. He can feel the tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t care less. “I’m serious. You have to let me say what I want to say, alright?”

For once - ever, maybe - Sam says nothing, simply nodding, hands over his heart like he’s trying to keep it in his chest.

“Shit,” Danny laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Was really hoping I’d keep it together.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam nearly whispers, the tremble in his voice so painfully sweet that it brings fresh tears to Danny’s eyes.

Danny takes a steadying breath, looking up at Sam.

“Sam,” he starts, no longer fighting the emotion in his voice. “You’ve been my best friend for what feels like my whole life, and if I’m honest, I think I’ve loved you for just as long. You push me, you challenge me, you comfort me, and you understand me like no one else in the world. Every day that I wake up next to you feels like I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

“Even when I steal the blankets?” Sam asks, tears running unchecked down his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Danny laughs, sniffling. “Even when you steal the blankets. Sometimes I think about what life would be like if we hadn’t found each other, if fate or the universe or god or whatever hadn’t brought us together. And… I can’t see it. Not because it’s too painful to imagine, but because I know that there’s no world, no universe, no reality where there’s a me without you. There’s no existence where there’s a Daniel Wagner without a Samuel Kiszka to follow anywhere and everywhere. And -“

He has to take a second to wipe his eyes and take a breath, voice breaking.

“And that makes me feel like I could take on the world, Sam,” he whispers. “It makes me feel unstoppable. Knowing I have you next to me, in my corner and by my side, it makes me feel like there’s nothing I couldn’t do.”

He reaches out and tugs one of Sam’s hands down, pressing his lips to the cold skin of his knuckles.

“You make me so fucking happy, Sam,” he says. “And if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to make you feel the same way. Will you marry me?”

There's a long moment of silence, and then before Danny even registers that the other man has moved, his back is hitting the snow and he has his arms full of Sam Kiszka.

“Yes!” Sam cries, the sound muffled by Danny’s hair and jacket and probably a mouthful of snow. He’s pressing furious kisses to Danny’s neck, then his jaw, and then all over his face, each punctuated by another ‘yes!’.

Sam sits up, straddling Danny’s lap, hair flying wild and snowflakes kissing his eyelashes.

“I’m making Daniel Wagner my husband!” He whoops, so loud that Danny can’t help but laugh. He rests his hands on Sam’s thighs, content to stare up at him for as long as he can.

Sam looks like an angel, cheeks flushed with cold and lashes still damp with joyous tears. Danny takes Sam’s left hand, setting the ring box on his own chest to pull the gold band out.

“There,” he says, sliding the band onto Sam’s ring finger. “Official.”

Sam lifts his hand, looking at the band. His smile is radiant, eyes shining.

“Always,” he reads aloud. He leans down, holding Danny’s jaw with his left hand as he brushes their noses together. “Promise?”

Danny smiles. “Promise.”

-

“Shh, they’re coming!” Ronnie hisses, nearly skidding on the floor as she runs to hide behind the couch.

All the lights are out in the Kiszka home, everyone tucked behind various pieces of furniture to conceal themselves from view. Strung over the fireplace is a massive banner, lovingly but hastily painted with hearts and ‘CONGRATULATIONS DANNY AND SAM’.

“Man, this will be awkward if Sam said no,” Josie remarks, yelping when Lori pinches her side in reprimand.

The sound of a key turning in the lock makes everyone quiet down, the door opening.

Sam is tapping his boots against the hallway mat, shaking off the snow. “Daniel, if we still have the house to ourselves then I’m about to give you the ride of your life -“

Danny’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing. He knows everyone is within earshot. “Sam -“

“SURPRISE!”

The lights turn on and everyone pops up from behind couches and bookshelves. Sam nearly jumps out of his skin, screaming and instinctively grabbing for Danny.

“Thank god we interrupted that sentence,” Josh quips, blowing into a paper party horn. Danny looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head with a grin.

“Well?!” Karen asks, bouncing on the spot.

Sam doesn’t move for a long moment, face impressively passive.

Danny pinches him and Sam breaks into a wide grin, holding up his hand. The gold band is there, a perfect fit.

“We’re engaged!” He hollers, immediately kicking off his shoes and jumping into the chaos of family, everyone shouting in excitement and piling in for hugs.

Danny grins, taking off his jacket and shoes, letting himself savour the view for just a moment before joining the fray.

“I like the banner,” he says once he’s exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone, putting his arm around Sam. Around his fiancé.

“Let’s just say there was a battle of wills to end up where we are now,” Dan says, giving his son a rueful smile.

“I maintain ‘same penis forever’ is a great engagement banner,” Josh says, somehow now in possession of a paper party hat that says ‘bridesmaid’ on it.

“It is,” Jake agrees.

“Alright,” Karen claps her hands, ignoring the twins. “Time for a toast!”

Kelly pops a bottle of champagne, filling glasses as everyone passes them around. There’s music playing in the background, the fireplace lit, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner. Danny’s pretty sure he’s never been happier in his life.

He pulls Sam close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ve all been family for so long,” Dan says, holding up his glass. “But it feels like magic to welcome you officially into the family tonight, Sam. We couldn’t ask for anything more in a son in law, and couldn’t ask for anyone better for Danny. We love you.”

Danny presses his face into Sam’s hair, trying to keep more tears at bay, but it’s useless. He’s too happy, too fucking grateful for this moment.

“Thank you, Dan,” Sam says, eyes shining.

“And to our gentle giant,” Kelly says, raising his glass. “Danny, it’s our honour to officially welcome you to our family. You’ve been a brother to Jake and Josh since you were just a kid, but to Sam you were always more - his lighthouse, his rock. You make each other better, and we are so proud of you both.”

“To Sam and Danny,” Jake calls, lifting his glass.

“To Sam and Danny!”

The clink of glasses sounds like ringing bells as Danny leans down to kiss Sam properly, smiling against his lips.

“To us,” he whispers.

“Hell yeah,” Sam grins. “Always, baby.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Interlude 2: Henry & Georgia

Part 9 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Christmas Dinner wasn't great for anybody in the Seresin household. But it started out with so much potential. Georgia's always counted herself lucky for having married the man she loved and having five beautiful children with him. She never would have expected to see her husband fall from his pedestal in such a spectacular fashion. At that moment, she's left with some hard decisions. And maybe they're not that hard at all? Disclaimers: Arguments, Alcohol, Homophobic Language Warning: Female Reader Word Count: 4009 Author Note: Here’s part 9 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car). By popular demand, have Mama Georgie's perspective for the Christmas Dinner fight and what comes after! Thanks to @desert-fern for beta-reading this chapter for me as I dive into a character's perspective that I'm not used to! AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

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Georgia Marie Seresin, known to her friends and most of her family as Georgie, has always counted herself as one of the luckiest women in the world. She’s never once regretted the path her life has taken. Not once, not ever. After all, what was there to regret when you’re married to a man you’ve loved for most of your life and have five gorgeous children? Sure they’ve all chosen to do different things and maybe veer from the path their parents took, but that’s normal right? After all, Georgie herself is a Navy-man-turned-pastor’s daughter, but she’s decidedly not a pastor’s wife. So it had never even occurred to her to wonder why Henry was so controlling over their children's choices. It was easy to excuse his bad behavior as disguised concern, concern he couldn't or wouldn't show otherwise.

But thirty-seven years of marriage later, and she’s finally starting to question a little bit about the man she’s hitched her wagon to. The first straw was when Jake joined the Navy instead of going to law school like Henry had always planned. That cold anger? It’s something Georgie’s never felt from her warm, usually jovial husband. Henry had cut Jake down like he wasn’t worth his love or affection. The place Henry had relegated Jake to? That’s where he'd stayed ever since he went to the Naval Academy, a tall, gangly boy, barely eighteen. Georgie has never understood why Henry hated Jake so much for going after his dreams.

The second straw? That had been when Eliza came home from New York over Easter her final year of college and introduced the family to Bethie. Not as her friend or roommate, but as her fiancée and the love of her life. Georgie can still remember the joy she’d felt in seeing her baby girl that happy. As a mother, it was one of the best moments of her life. But Henry, he’d shut down. He spent the entire week ignoring Eliza and Bethie. But it hadn’t been for long. 

Over Easter dinner, Henry had said things that Georgie could never condone, about the child she bore under her own heart and raised with more love than she knew was possible to come from her heart. Georgie can count the number of times she’s been livid with Henry on one hand. This time, her anger comes out in a knock-down-drag-out. It’s a fight of the kind she’s never had with her husband. After that, she and Henry come to the uneasy truce that he can ignore Eliza and Bethie if he so chooses, but he can never say words like the ones he believes ever again. Not if he wants to keep up the appearances that he has a happy married life any longer.

That shaky miserable truce holds for several long years. Then Georgie gets a call from an unknown San Diego number. It's a female voice, shaky and quiet. She introduces herself, explains that Jake calls her Gorgeous Girl, and that she wished it were under better circumstances that she was calling.

"Mrs. Seresin, it's Jake." She'd sobbed, sounding so young and distraught on the phone. "He's in the hospital. He's hurt really badly, a-and, I'm his emergency contact, but it didn’t feel right keeping that he was injured from you."

The pain in this young girl's voice reminds Georgie of how she'd feared that something bad would happen to Henry when she'd first fallen in love. The difference is in how Jake's girl had experienced the pain and the fear. This unknown girl’s concern for her son had been enough to set Georgie into motion.

"Henry, something terrible has happened." Her husband had barely raised his head from the papers arrayed on the desk in front of him. "It's Jake. He's injured, quite badly, and in the hospital. I'm flying out as soon as I can."

"That's fine. Take one of the boys with you. Not Henry, I need him for some meetings on the ranch. Take Will, instead." He hadn't asked, even once how Jake was, if he'd be okay. In truth, Georgie had taken his tacit permission at face value and called Will and Henry. Her sons’ concern was enough to hold her together until she could get to her Jake. 

As it turns out, Georgie was right to worry. Both Jake’s Sweetheart, and Jake himself look worse for the wear when she marches into the hospital room they’ve put her baby boy in. At first sight, Georgie’s heart goes out to Jake’s girlfriend. The poor girl looks exhausted. She’s swaying on her feet, her lips bitten and chapped, and her eyes red-rimmed as she clutches to Jake’s limp hand like he’s her lifeline. And Jake. Her Jake. He’s silent and still, his face pale and chest moving only due to the ventilator he’s strapped to. Her hurricane boy, born in the middle of an unseasonably early storm, has never been so still.

Jake’s girl is far too easy for Georgie to adopt. She’s so completely concerned about Jake that it’s barely any time at all before Georgie’s herding her home and making sure she’s sleeping and eating. Georgie and Will end up staying in her beautiful home and honestly Georgie’s not sure how this sweet little thing has kept it together so well. Her strength shines with every word, even if Georgie can faintly hear crying from behind closed doors every night. 

When Jake wakes up, Georgie finally sees how happy her son is. Just the sight of his girl walking through the door has the biggest grin curling on his face. Jake’s still pale and wan, but looking at how he is with his girl, and you’d never know how badly Jake had been hurt. Georgie decides then and there that this girl is good for her son. Jake’s always run far away from any of the stability that Georgie has always wanted for him. Until he mentioned his Gorgeous Girl. By the time Georgie heads home, she’s so ecstatic about Jake’s fortunes in love that she’s content to ignore everything her husband has to say about Jake.

Then Jake brings her home for Christmas. It’s good to finally have all the kids under one roof, much like all of the Christmases the Seresin’s have shared since Henry Jr was born. Henry’s cold from the moment he sees Jake standing in the kitchen. Even seeing his son happy isn’t enough. They make it through Christmas Eve before everything seems to get indescribably tense. 

The kids are giggling and laughing as they open presents before bed on Christmas Eve. Jake’s smiling with Jordan on his lap while his girl’s cuddling James. She’s even won over the pickiest Seresin kids in the house. Then Jake drops to his knee in front of her. 

“J-Jay? What are you doing?” Jake’s sweetheart’s voice is tremulous, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“I know we usually open a gift on Christmas Eve, but what I’m asking you might just be the best gift I’ve ever received in my life. My gorgeous girl, you’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. Since the day we met, you’ve had me wrapped around your fingers. I love you so much. Would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” 

Hearing the love in Jake’s voice has Georgie misting up a little too. Jake’s sweetheart is crying, tears dripping steadily down her cheeks as she nods and kisses Jake like he’s the most important thing in her life. Georgie’s startled out of her joy when Henry rises from the loveseat where he’s sitting next to her and marches angrily to his study. Jake and his fiancée don’t seem to mind. When the kids all head up to bed, Georgie goes in search of her husband.

“Henry?” Her voice is soft as she shoulder’s open the heavy door, a couple of mugs of spiked hot chocolate in her hands.

“I brought some hot chocolate, just how you like it.” Henry just glowers down at the papers he’s rifling through.

“How can you be happy about this, Georgia?” He sounds bemused.

“How can you be anything less than happy right now, Henry? Our son’s getting married to a girl who loves him just as much as he loves her!” Georgie perches on the arm of the big desk chair, handing her husband a mug while enjoying the warmth of his arm curling around her waist.

“He doesn’t realize how wrong she is for him, Georgie. Our son. We raised him with lofty goals in mind. Where did we go wrong?” Georgie cards her hands through the salt-and-pepper dotting the love of her life’s hair.

“What makes you think we went wrong, Henry? Our sons and daughters are happy and healthy. They’re well-educated, successful, and they’re finding love with the people they love and who love them.”

The grumbling growl that pours out of her husband’s mouth takes Georgie by surprise. “Henry and Will are the only ones of our kids who’ve made good matches. We can get on a stage with Henry and Melissa and Will and Hannah. This girl Jake’s brought home? She’d just embarrass us wherever she went. Can’t you see how Jake is with her? She’s making him do things like he never would have before. Playing around in the hay behind the barn like a pair of kids?”

“They’re so young, Henry.” Georgie’s voice is gentle. “They’re allowed to have some fun. Hell, Will, Henry and their wives were playing in the hay too.”

But Georgie doesn’t get an answer from her husband. Or at least, not one she particularly likes. Christmas Day dawns cold and clear but filled with laughter. 

Henry’s persistent in his avoidance of Jake, Eliza and their fiancées. Will, Henry Jr, Melissa and Hannah do their best to make up for it, and well, James, Jordan and baby Sarah are all over Jake’s sweetheart like she’s already family. When the family reconvenes for Christmas Dinner, it’s a blessing to see the long table groaning with delicious food and surrounded by smiling faces. Everybody’s in their festive best, and Georgie can’t keep her eyes from Jake and his sweetheart. Her son is different with this girl, softer, gentler, kinder, and sweeter. There’s a new strength in his eyes, something gentle with a core of steel. Of course, that’s when the third straw makes its appearance.

“Jacob.” Georgie’s bracing for a fight the minute Henry opens his mouth and turns suddenly cold, flinty green eyes on his youngest son.

“Yes, sir?” Jake keeps his eyes on his plate, but Georgie doesn’t miss how her son clutches to his fiancé’s hand like she’s his lifeline.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy.” Jake’s eyes are burning as he looks up to his father and not for the first time, Georgie wishes she were telepathic, if only so she could tell her husband to shut up.

“Are you thinking this through? I’m sure she’s nice enough, but what makes you think she’s appropriate for a man in your social standing?” Georgie���s eyes snap to her husband for the first time since he opened his mouth. The sweet girl Jake brought home, Jake himself, neither of them deserve what Henry is saying. Not at all.

“Appropriate for a man of my social standing?” Georgie knows exactly what that particular tone means. The last time she heard it was before Jake left them for six long years. “I wasn’t aware I had a social standing, Pops.”

Jake's sitting stiff-backed in his overstuffed dining chair, and while Georgie knows exactly how Jake is going to act and react and respond here, she has no idea how Jake's sweetheart will. A part of Georgie hopes she'll cry, because at least then Jake's attention will be on her. But Georgie also knows Jake's sweetheart well enough to know there isn't a chance of that happening.

Her eyes go hurt and sad for the shortest time before she wraps an arm around Jake's and settles in for the storm that's brewing. Georgie catches Hannah's eye and motions for her to take the kids to the sitting room clear on the other side of the house. Nobody notices Hannah ushering the little ones away.

“Ridiculous. I thought the Navy was supposed to teach discipline, not show my son how to whore around." Jake's sweetheart's face falls the moment she hears Henry say the word 'whore'. She looks incredibly small and distraught, more so than when Jake was hurt. Jake wraps an arm around her before facing his father again. "Is she knocked up? Is that why you brought that cheap little slut into my house and introduced her to your brothers and sisters? To your niece and nephews?” 

Georgie wishes more than ever that she had stood up to Henry before this. That she had when Henry first started to beat Jake down for following his dreams. Because she knows the difference in Jake. Could Henry have seen the difference if he'd come to San Diego when Jake was in the hospital? A part of Georgie's just not sure. But the one thing she does know is that the kids don't need to hear this, not at Christmas. It's a good thing that Hannah has whisked them away.

“What did you say about her?” This house and dining table have both seen their fair share of Seresin fights. Between the kids, between Henry and Jake and between Henry and his eldest son as well. But all of a sudden, Georgie realizes that this table - this house - has probably never seen a fight like this one. Jake, her emotional, sweet, youngest son looks cold and detached.

“You heard me, son.” Henry, on the other hand, looks excited in a sick sort of way.

“I did hear you, Dad.” Jake looks all of a sudden like a man Georgie's never seen before. Certainly not a man she's ever raised.

“I wanted to make sure that I heard the right thing. Let’s get one thing clear. I found the love of my life in San Diego. She’s not a whore, she’s not knocked up, though that’ll happen as soon as she lets me put a baby in her. She’s not cheap. My gorgeous girl is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met."

This level of love, of devotion from Jake has Georgie tearing up. Her youngest son has definitely grown up. All of a sudden she realizes why her dad was so keen on Jake going into the Navy. If he'd stayed in Texas, he would've lost his spark, his strength. He would've become a shell of himself rather than the man facing down his father for the woman he loves who is sitting at the dining table.

"You’re not in the Navy so you have no idea what it does to a relationship to be apart from someone for months, maybe years at a time, when you love them. It takes a special person to withstand the deployments, the stress, the injuries, all of it. I found that person and I asked her to marry me. I brought her home because I wanted her to have a support net, people she could rely on when I’m deployed so she’s not alone in a house like a mausoleum all by herself.”

“I’m in my right mind, old man. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve been thinking about marrying her since the night I met her. There isn’t another woman in the world for me.” When Jake kisses the ring on his fiancee's finger, Georgie has to pat away tears.

But obviously Henry isn't done yet.

“Georgia.” She's more than a little shocked, hearing the vitriol in her husband's voice, and if she looks like a deer in headlights, she's sure her children will forgive her.

“Where did we go wrong? These two,” He's growling, pointing at Jake and Eliza in turn. “Why do they always have to be such fucking embarrassments? You let Jake spend too much time with your dad so the little idiot joined the Navy and brought back a woman who probably couldn’t sit through a fancy dinner without embarrassing the family. And then there’s Eliza.” 

Georgie's left shell shocked as her husband  spits out words that she'd told him she never wanted to hear again. Or else.

“Our daughter couldn’t even turn out right, huh? If I had my way she would’ve been married to the youngest Johnson boy. He’s perfectly respectable. But no. We let her go to college in New York and she came back with a girlfriend. Disgraces, both of them.” 

Eliza and Beth are struck just as dumb as Georgie is, and as her mind races, she numbly catalogs the tears swimming in both of the girls' eyes. Just as she and Jake both open their mouths, a chair gets pushed back from the table, the squeal startling her from her stupor. It's Henry Jr, and he's glaring at his father like he never has before

“Jake, Will, Eliza, Maggie, Mel. We’re leaving. Now.” His voice booms in the chilly silence permeating the room, even as his siblings jump to attention. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Henry’s always taken more after his father and less after her, but in this moment Georgie sees herself in her eldest son.

“I’m going to celebrate Christmas with my siblings. My siblings who I love because of who they are, not the political power they’ll bring me.”

Henry's face looks sad and older than its years when he turns to Georgie next. “I’m sorry, Mama. I can’t sit here and hear my siblings and their fiancée’s get insulted like this, not anymore. It’s something I should’ve done months ago, when Eliza first brought Bethie home.” 

Georgie's heart breaks at those words. Damn Henry. Damn him to hell and back. He might have just lost their children and grandchildren - for him and her. It's no wonder that a tear spills down her cheek as Georgie musters her voice enough to ask, “Will you at least take some of the food with you?"

“Yeah, Mama. Eliza, can you help Mama pack up enough food for all of us?” Georgie’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do other than nod silently in agreement.

“Jake and Beth. Can you grab your bags? The four of you will stay with Will and Hannah or Mel and I. We can figure out who’s staying where in a bit.” The kids erupt in a flurry of activity, Eliza rushing into the kitchen to grab tupperware to pack some food up almost immediately after Henry places his ultimatum at his father’s feet.

With the colossal table empty between Henry and her, Georgie can’t help the rage clouding her thoughts. The fool is just sipping on his whiskey and eating his food like it’s another perfectly normal day. But it’s not. He just imploded their entire family with a few words and it’s obvious that as much as her children love her, that they’ll pick each other over their parents. Georgie’s not sure how she does it, staring silently at the face of the man who she once knew better than she knew herself even as her stomach rebels at the thought of another morsel of food passing her lips. It feels like she’s sharing a table, a home, and a life with a stranger.

Georgie pushes away from the table, ignoring the incredulous look on Henry’s face at the unsightly squeal that rips through the dining room and the jangle of silverware and cut crystal glasses. To his credit, he doesn’t even try to get up as she walks to the foot of the stairs. All of her children are in the foyer, Melissa, Hannah and the twins holding the bags of gifts while Beth and Eliza have their bags in their hands. Henry’s got Sarah in his arms and one of Eliza’s bags in his hand. The only two missing are Jake and his Sweetheart. They walk down the stairs soon after. Jake perfunctorily kisses her cheek, but she manages to manhandle her son into a hug. His stiff muscles finally give in, and Georgie leaves it be after a few minutes.

It leaves her to look at Jake’s Sweetheart, and the poor thing is biting her lip and wringing her hands together. It looks like she’s trying to think of something to say, but instead Georgie takes both of her hands in her own.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. No matter what my husband says, you’re family to me. I can’t wait to see you marry my son. You make him so happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted - my children happy.” Georgie doesn’t let the shock on her sweet soon-to-be daughter-in-law’s face faze her though. She squeezes the poor girl tight, ignoring how her eyes are misty when she pulls away.

“That’s why I gave Jake the ring my father, his Grandpa Jacob, gave my mother. I hope I’ll see you soon?”

It doesn’t surprise Georgie at all to see how Jake smiles, just once in her direction and nods. But as soon as the front door closes, she unleashes the rage she’s been holding at bay for the better part of her life.

“HENRY DAVID SERESIN!” The volume and pitch of her voice startles her a little as she stalks back into the formal dining room. She’d worry about the dogs, but honestly, the two of them are probably out in the backyard anyway.

“What the hell was that?!” Her voice is a dangerously smooth purr as she fixes her eyes on her husband’s face.

“That, Georgia, was my disapproval for our ridiculous twins. I’ll never understand how I let you coddle them so much.”

“Shut up, Henry.”

“What? What did you just say to me?”

“I said … Shut Up!” There’s no respect in her voice, not anymore.

“I’ve spent more than half my life with you. And I loved you, with all my heart. But you’re not the man I fell in love with.” 

Henry looks a little shell shocked and to be honest, Georgie’s not sure where this came from, but boy does it feel good.

“I trusted you. Every decision that you made for our children? I had faith that you had their best interests in mind. And then you single handedly chased our son away. And then you irreparably hurt our daughter because she fell in love. And just when I had all of my children under our roof again, you chased them all away again.”

Georgie’s breathing raggedly as she stares into her husband’s dead eyed gaze.

“Well I’ve had enough of this, Henry.” 

Henry can’t even pretend to look worried or confused. Is this what a man who loves his wife acts like when she’s angry with him?

“What are you going to do, Georgia? Everything you have, you have because I gave to you.” There’s a cruel tint to Henry’s voice as he stands up and grasps her face.

“No, Henry. Everything you have, you have because I gave it to you." She wrestles her way out of his firm grasp. "The political power, the success, the successful cattle farming business? It all came out of the money my daddy gave me when I married a farmhand’s son with lofty aspirations but not a penny to his name. And you know what? I’d give anything to have that man back instead of the monster he became.”

Georgie’s words seem to ring in the empty house as she marches up to the bedroom and packs a few bags. It’s not until much later, when she’s driving to her sister’s house that she realizes that Henry never came after her. It hurts, the thought that nearly forty years of love didn’t even merit a try at reconciliation. But for her sons and daughters, she’d do anything, even rip her heart into two.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[dustydoop]

A little Chelley Christmas ficlet

“Chell, love, it’s alright! I am more than capable of not destroying the house in the two hours you’ll be gone. You’ve left me here for longer than that and nothing happened.” 

Chell humphed, true, but that was before he had limbs. Gangly, awkward, danger-inducing limbs. She rolled her eyes and began to put on her jacket. Fine…

Wheatley’s blue eyes lit up. “I promise, I won’t make a mess. Actually, it’ll look better than when you left it! Now go, you don’t want to be late to your office Christmas party. Mae’s going to be waiting for you, go!” He gently shoved Chell by the shoulders as she rushed to grab her stuff. Wheatley waved as she hopped in her car, waited until he couldn’t see her anymore, and ran back inside. 

“K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! Hey, hey, I have a question,” Wheatley said as he opened Chell’s laptop. “How does one decorate a house for these holidays Chell has been telling me about?” 

K.A.N.A. whipped around, startled. “Ight man, slow down. Decorating? You sure?”

“Yes! She took me to the store two days ago after I said I wanted ou-her house to look like all the wintery movies that every channel has been playing this whole month. So, we have the tree made of plastic, some tiny light bulbs that are all together, shiny fluffy stuff, and ORBS!” Wheatley exclaimed as he showed off the ornaments they had chosen, one box of silver, one of blue, and one of orange. 

K.A.N.A. sighed. “Alright, you’re going to want to put the layers of tree together into one big tree and set it… In that corner there, next to those posters. There’s an outlet for the lights and it’s open enough. 

Wheatley set himself in doing just that. Eventually, he had the tree set up, and a bunch of lights in his hands. 

“And now I wrap the tree in these lights? How on earth am I supposed to-” Wheatley began messing with the string. After around five minutes, it seemed as though there were more lights around him than the tree. “K.A.N.A, I think I need help.”

“Sorry, can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

K.A.N.A. raised her digital arms. “No physical body, doofus. You gotta figure it out yourself.” 

“Ughhh, fine…” 

“And you have to do the same thing with the tinsel.” 

“... the what?” 

Eventually, all of the decorations were on the tree. True, it took much longer than it should have, but at least he did it. Wheatley stepped back to look at his work. “Oh, this is great, isn’t it great, K.A.N.A?” 

“Yeah, yeah it looks pretty good but uhh, where’s the angel?”

Wheatley glared at the avatar. “You never mentioned anything about that, what do you mean the angel?” 

“You know, the Christmas tree angel. Pretty looking woman in a dress, she’s got wings, all that, goes on top of the tree.” 

Wheatley ruffled through the bags, trying to find something that matched that description. “We don’t have one of those. K.A.N.A, what do I do, what do I do, ughh I’m going to ruin all this, aren’t I? Oh, of course I am, dumb little Wheatley tries to do something nice for Chell and it all turns to crap, why did I even bother?” He slumped into the couch, burying his head in his hands. 

“Hold on, no, no, no, I got this, pretty woman with wings, right? Give me one second.” 

Two hours had passed since Chell had left for her company Christmas party, and she was more than ready to leave. Even with her new-found appreciation for others, her social battery was drained. She drove home, ready to relax with the new vanilla honey scented candle she had received from the white elephant gift exchange. As she pulled into her driveway, Chell noticed a purple-ish glow behind the window curtains. 

What had Wheatley done this time?

Chell opened the door, demanding to know what the heck Wheatley was up to. As she turned to look at the whole room, she realized where the colorful light had come from. Wheatley had set up their Christmas tree. Chell’s tone softened as she apologized for her tone, but her apology quickly turned to laughter as she realized what Wheatley was doing. He was standing on his tip-toes, about to use a rack of the bookshelf as a stepstool. One arm was stretched to the top, desperately trying to put something on the top of the tree. 

Chell walked over and grabbed whatever it was in order to examine it. It was a piece of cardboard with a cardstock cone taped to the back. Turning it over, Chell realized the front had a picture of her taped to it, a photo Wheatley had taken soon after their escapade returning to Aperture. They went to a cute little cafe a town over, Chell even wore the only dress in her closet in celebration. Stock photo angel wings were glued behind her, vaguely near her shoulder blades. She chuckled as she asked Wheatley what this was supposed to be. 

“Well, K.A.N.A. told me that, usually, you humans put a figurine of an angel on top of your holiday trees for whatever reason. BUT! We did not buy one, so I made one! See, pretty woman, wearing a dress, I put little wings on you, I’ll admit my arts and craft skills aren’t as fine tuned as I would like, but it’s the thought that counts. Now let me put this on the tre-” Wheatley cut off as he continued to reach the point of the tree. “How tall is this tree, nine feet tall? This is ridiculous.” 

The tree was, in fact, only seven feet tall. Wheatley’s new body was just rather short. Chell took the homemade angel from him again and easily placed the cone on the one branch at the top of the tree. Wheatley stared up in awe as Chell reached above his head. 

At the same time, Chell looked down, Wheatley’s face was radiating more heat than a bonfire as his jaw dropped. She was trapping him between the wall and herself, wasn’t she? She backed down, apologizing for getting in his personal space. 

“Oh, no I don’t mind, do that all you want, love. I- uh, hope you like the tree.” 

Chell gave Wheatley a quick peck on the cheek, reassuring how much she loved it. It really did bring their house together. 

“Wait, our house?” Wheatley asked. 

Chell grabbed his hand, of course this was his place too, if he wanted. 

Wheatley’s face lit up as he wrapped his hand around Chell’s. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, love.” <3

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Remus/Sirius Fluff Masterlist | Works With Less Than 5k Words [3/3]

find the masterlist directory here

last updated: 07/31/24 | links last checked: 07/31/24

*quandary by miastree [T, 4k]

There's also the small.. big… problem that Remus has, other than the furry one and the grades one and the worrying-about-the-future one and the money one, and that's his Sirius Problem. He's come to the conclusion that the fluttery feeling in his chest will never really go away.

*Quiet by merlywhirls [Not Rated, 2k]

Remus and Sirius enjoy a rare moment of peace in their dorm on Christmas the day after a full moon.

Self-Insert by Wereflamingo [T, 1k]

Remus and Sirius both write self-insert fics in the same fandom. One day Sirius asks to borrow Remus's OC for his new fic. What could he possibly be planning, and what is the mystery pairing he promised to introduce?

Shelter by ygrainette [M,3k]

The storm-clouds of the First War are gathering, and Sirius and Remus shelter each other.

Sirius Black and the Incident with the Babbling Bush by MonkeyZero [T, 2k]

While helping Remus with his chores, Sirius finds someone, or rather something to confide his feelings to. “But the point is, Remus is so gorgeous and sexy it drives me wild just being close to him. We’ll be doing something perfectly ordinary, like breaking into Filch’s office to embroider his awful overcoat with pink hearts, and I’ll just look over at Remus and think Oh Merlin I want to bang him.

Sirius Possibilities, aka The Logic of Sirius by Tpants [T, 3k]

Sirius buys a "cottage" for Remus and him. Obviously, there is a lot of work to do and Sirius has some high expectations.

Some New Memories by LadyAmina [M, 4k]

While Christmas shopping one Hogsmeade visit, Sirius decides that Remus needs to make some really good memories to balance out the bad ones.

Someone To Love by lumosinlove [T, 1k]

Sirius trips, Remus catches him, and maybe they won't have to spend Christmas alone this year.

*Sparks by ssstrychnine [T, 3k]

Remus is a librarian at a university library and Sirius is a student with a lot of fines.

*Stripping Solution by Ineffabilitea [E, 4k]

In which James pulls off a Christmas prank, Remus writes a note, Sirius reads it, and Peter indulges in schadenfreude. (Follows Snogging Nog)

Summer Skin by escribo [G, 1k]

First bike, first kiss, first making up.

*Tartan Tribulations by sqvalors [T, 1k]

In which Remus' clothes mysteriously disappear, McGonagall is surprisingly collected and Sirius is, as usual, insufferable.

Texts From Last Night by christabellamotte [M, 1k]

(Sirius): I woke up in your kitchen with my ID in my hand and my nails were painted electric blue. Dude…. never let me have firewhisky again. (James): The nail polish was Lily’s. You insisted it brought out the sparkle in your eyes. (Remus): For the record: it did not. (Sirius): It does too! (Or, a texting fic from your favourite very small gang based around some of TFLN's best offerings.)

the charm of your arms 101 by driedupwishes [T, 3k]

“Should’ve known,” Sirius continued, “that boring old goodie-goodie Remus would rear his head eventually. He always does…” Remus went still, tension suddenly back in his shoulders. Sirius lifted his head to grin at him, broad and pleased and completely unapologetic, because there was nothing more Remus hated than being cast as the kiss ass and Sirius Black fucking knew it. Remus didn’t even pause. He threw himself across the couch, slung his arm around Sirius’ neck, and hauled him up in one gangly limb tangled stumble. Sirius squawked, fingers curling in Remus’ jumper as he floundered to his feet, and for one fucking brilliant moment they were nose to nose, breaths mingling, Sirius’ eyes going warm and soft in the dying light of the fire and Remus forgot what it was he was trying to do. “Is this part of the lesson, teach,” Sirius whispered, waggling his eyebrows like the annoying git he was. Remus loved him all the same.

*The Day by DevBasaa [T, 2k]

Sometimes the worst day can turn out perfect in the end. Written for a "Promise Ring" challenge, set Marauders' Era, summer before 7th year.

*the doc was called Halloween babeyy by dduucckk [T, 1k]

a self indulgent halloween fic with pumpkin shenanigans, meet cutes, and texting. “They’re battle scars,” Remus repeated. “And you can’t call him just ‘pumpkin’ anymore, his official title is the PumpKing and he requires it to be used at all times.” Remus finished carving out the last scar, and picked up the sharpie to draw the outline of a crown near the top of the pumpkin. One he was satisfied, he picked up his knife and started cutting along the lines. “In that case,” James said, “Mine’s the PumPeasant and he looks like this because of a childhood disease.”

The Electric Fizzing Prick Pistols, or Whatever by whitmans_kiss [T, 3k]

Everyone is born with Words on their arm that connect them to their Soulmate. James finds his, Sirius had everything figured out back in First Year, Peter doesn’t talk to girls anyway, and Remus thinks he’d very much just like to put his earmuffs back on and disappear.

The Firewhiskey Interrogation by TheLonelyPoet [Not Rated, 3k]

It's James' birthday so his friends plan a night full of drinking and laughter in the Shrieking Shack as a present. But under the influence of firewhiskey some quite unexpected things happen…

The Game of Gay Canines by orphan_account [T, 1k]

Remus snaps and insists that he is not "boring" or a "chicken", thank you very much. Sirius dares him to a game of gay chicken to prove it.

The Great Golden Gormless Worm of Flobber by sheafrotherdon [M, 3k]

A lovesick Sirius is a desperate thing, and Remus Lupin insists on being oblivious.

The Incident by lindsaylaurie [T, 2k]

Remus rejects Sirius’ advances because he’s afraid of things changing between them.

The Night Before by jlpierre [M, 3k]

Sirius Black has lost his wand, and using limited memories of the night before, he has to retrace it before Remus loses his cool.

*The One Where They Got Married by Sonamae [T, 2k]

Walkies, Tea Time, and Showers, Oh my.

The Pitch by KinugoshiDofu [T, 1k]

Remus is not into Quidditch at all, but when you have a secret boyfriend that plays, there’s not much to do but watch and pray to Merlin you won’t have to see him crash. And when he does, there’s nothing left to do but kiss the booboos.

The Talk by WolfstarPups90 [M, 1k, Harry/Draco]

Sirius and Remus think it's time they give Harry "The Talk" when they find he's been sneaking out at night to see someone special.

The Wardrobe by KinugoshiDofu [M, 1k]

“I can’t believe that of all the places we could be hiding, we’re actually hiding in a closet,” Sirius huffed, “the irony.” Except Remus is pretty sure that it is not a closet, but in fact a wardrobe and there is nothing ironic about this situation - they will not be laughing joyfully about it later, later they will be dead.

The Witching Hour by muse_in_absentia [T, 3k]

Sometimes birthday wishes can come true.

things that should be unappealing by nightswatch [T, 3k]

In which kisses are shared even though Hogwarts is plagued by the yearly flu epidemic.

Thunder by showmeyourtardis [T, 1k]

Sleeping in Gryffindor Tower is not always easy. Especially when the sky insists on having a war with itself, and the heating charms are refusing to work. It's hard to sleep alone.

*Unified Theory by montparnasse [G, 3k]

New Year's, 1982. A house, a bed, a room at the top of the stairs. A lever, and a place to stand. (podfic available)

We Were by Charlie9646 [G, 1k]

Remus imagined tons of directions that his life might have gone in, but being a parent wasn’t one of them. But, with the Potters gone him and Sirius have to do just that. The life Harry should have had.

Welcome to the Family by Jencala [M, 2k, Harry/Draco]

Remus turned to face his husband. “Your godson is engaged to a Malfoy. He’s used to the finer things in life and I, for one, would like to make sure this dinner is not only pleasant, but that he knows we are not peasants.” Sirius barked a laugh. “So the truth is, you want to show off for the little bugger!”

Winter and Happier by orphan_account [T, 2k]

Spending a weekend house-sitting for James' parents, the two couples have some plans. But when Remus is given a slight set-back, Sirius is determined to make his boyfriend feel valid, and very loved.

*Worth the Itch by NachoDiablo [T, 2k]

Sirius is smitten with the adorable curly-haired boy who stops by their booth at the farmer's market every week.

*denotes personal favorites

[chocolatecatcupcakecheese]

a stubble-haired gangly youth with gapped teeth. "hey? yeah, keep the door open if you wanna keep breathin. you ain't paid up this month. you gonna hand over coin or do the rest of the Reavers gotta come rip your pretty garden up?"

HAH?? What the fuck did you just say to me you Little Orphan Annie “all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” lookin ass? I don’t have a garden, unless you mean my pubes, and those are neatly shaved in anticipation of a lady caller, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Your maidenless ass could never.

I paid off my wizard tower mortgage in full back in 2007 so don’t even try this scamming shit with me you fucking delinquent, you won’t get a single drachma out of me.

I bestow upon you a THREAT:

DELUXE SEVEN-IN-ONE LIGHTNING DEAL

WIZARD CURSE

Now git, you cocked-up lil varmint. That’s right! Git outta here!!!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Neris Christmas Hallmark Movie AU

Part Three of Four

Chubby faces were flushed from the cold. Nesta had ended up with Lucy on her lap sharing a hot chocolate beneath the busy canopy. They’d snagged seats by a heater which was necessary as her clothes were soaking. The family had ditched her on the ice, claiming it would be good for her to learn how to skate, a lot like pushing a baby bird out of the nest. She’d fallen hard on her knees then been unable to get back up even when the gangly, teenage boy working the rink had tried to haul her to her feet. In his attempt at being a white knight, Eris had taken to the ice again then promptly fallen on top of her with an elbow into her shoulder blade. It was single-handedly the most embarrassing moment of Nesta’s life – and Eris would be lucky if he made it to Christmas Day.

Nesta clasped her hands on top of her niece’s around their mug, savouring the heat through Eris’ borrowed gloves. The ice rink popped up every year along with light trails and a little market that was to be their next stop. There was not a sad face to be seen amongst the masses. Christmas brought with it a big sigh of relief, as if all the hard work had been done, and families could relax.

And she had been relaxing until the choir from earlier assembled in the park complete with a brass band. They were forced to endure it. Jos stood up on the bench between his parents, a hand resting on either shoulder to watch in amazement.

‘Your foot’s bobbing,’ Eris murmured.

Abruptly, Nesta stopped it swinging. ‘I was trying to keep warm. I hate this song.’

‘Me like it,’ replied Lucy, leaning her head back against Nesta’s chest.

Nesta pressed her lips against a cold cheek. ‘You like everything. Now, if it was Carol of the Bells then I’d be into it.’

‘Can you believe her, Luce? She says she hates Christmas but knows all the films and songs.’

At one point in her life, Nesta had wanted to love Christmas. She had the same excitement as most children. She’d been shipped off to boarding school and that three-week break meant coming home. Elain and Feyre were sent to a school closer to home, with their father claiming he couldn’t bear to have his daughters so far away – as if Nesta didn’t count in the rankings. Her mother claimed she should be glad that her school was more prestigious and her sisters’ grades wouldn’t have cut it. They aren’t disciplined like you, Nesta. They don’t sacrifice like you, Nesta. Some families went away skiing in Europe or to cabins in the mountains, others opted for tropical destinations to chase away the cold. Nesta’s homecoming was a brief meal with her mother where she nit-picked at all of her grades and her appearance then queried the boys at the school, demanding to know family names to spin her webs. Nesta never had a conversation with her mother again until she dropped her back at school. Christmas lunch was a quiet, rushed affair before the three daughters were ushered upstairs in anticipation of their parent’s guests arriving. They had money and made a show of it back then, inviting business associates and far-off friends for a grand party. But children were not allowed to it. The party overshadowed the day. Then, as she got older, the day had never really mattered anyway.

‘They’re played constantly from mid-November, what else am I to do?’

Eris excused himself to go to the bathroom, which left Nesta with the opportunity to seize Lucy’s hands and jiggle them to the music. As it happened, Nesta did like this song but she was loathe to admit that to Eris. She caught Elain smiling fondly at her – and for some reason, Nesta felt scandalised, as if she’d been caught confessing to a murder.

‘We’ve had a request,’ came the voice of the choirmaster. ‘We’ve not practised this one much but it is for Nesta Archeron who loves Christmas. Where are you, Nesta?’

If the ground could have swallowed her, that would have been preferable.

Stood by the choir was a tall, red-haired man whose days were numbered. He threw her a wink on his walk back through the crowd.

‘She’s over here,’ called Lucien, pointing at her slumped on the bench.

Merry and bright faces all turned to Nesta. It was as if she was being inducted into a cult. A Christmas cult. She gave an awkward wave, hoping they’d lose interest in her and turn back to the choir.

Thankfully, once the music began, they did.

At the first few bars, she recognised the song to be Carol of the Bells. Her face heated – and not from the attention. Eris was an idiot. But an idiot who’d gone out of his way to request the one song she enjoyed.

When he re-joined them at the table, he gave Nesta a lazy salute.

‘You are a… I can’t say what you truly are with a child on my lap, but I’m sure you know what I mean.’

‘A god amongst men? An Adonis in the flesh?’

Her indignation didn’t come. Instead, Nesta laughed. He couldn’t be serious. Nesta had met so many arrogant men who believed they knew how to do her job better than her. It was one of the reasons why she’d plucked herself out of the dating pool. The higher to the top she got, the thicker the arrogance became. The few dates she’d been on in the last couple of years ended up with her wading through their steaming arrogance and catching a cab home alone rather than listen to them tell her to do job her better.

Eris’ words should have been arrogant, but there was an undercurrent writhing beneath of self-deprecation that Nesta found to be charming. He didn’t take himself as seriously as she first thought.

It was difficult not to join in with the carolling. It came from all angles, even three of the four family members started up with God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. Lucy was just happy to be there, clapping her hands out of time in Nesta’s lap.

Their hungry bellies sent them in search of food from the busy market. Wooden stalls had been erected with green turf stapled to the roofs along with artificial snow material that made Nesta’s skin want to shrivel up. They had to split up to make it through with the promise of rendezvousing later. After yesterday’s performance of babysitting, they decided it would be safer if they maintained the ratio of two adults to one child. Eris was tall enough to plough through the crowds so Nesta kept one arm linked in his, the other strapped Lucy to her hip.

‘Shall we get some of these?’ Eris pointed to a stall that personalised baubles with names in glittering, gold paint.

‘What for?’

He gave a non-committal shrug, but pink tinged the tips of his ears. ‘A memento for our siblings that we actually showed up for once at Christmas. None would believe them otherwise.’

The bitterness in his tone was reflected in Nesta. They really had to be grinches to have ditched so many Christmases. The courtesy invites were always offered, but neither Lucien or Elain ever thought their siblings would actually attend – and both at the same Christmas was unheard of. It was one day of their lives yet neither of them could give up work for that time.

‘Pick the colours, Luce.’

The baubles were wrapped in crinkly, tissue paper and packed neatly into a box. They let Lucy go wild too, picking the ugliest decorations known to man which brought a big smile to the old man on the stall. When they explained to her that they had to be put in the bag and she couldn’t walk around the market brandishing them, tears began.  

The old man leaned over with a hanky to wipe her face. ‘There can’t be any tears at Christmas.’

As they walked away, Eris had his niece in his arms who was still crying quietly into his neck. ‘I might start taking a shot every time somebody excuses things under the pretence of Christmas.’

‘Your brother gorged himself on half a box of chocolates by the front door waiting for you earlier “because it’s Christmas”.’

Eris shook his head. ‘Thank goodness it’s one day a year.’

‘Is it though? As soon as Halloween is over, the shops start stocking Christmas items. It’s now a two-month long event.’

They paused at a stall selling yet more chocolate to further decay their niece and nephew’s teeth that evening as well as one that sold hideous jumpers which Eris insisted on buying for all of them. Nesta’s scratched at the back of her neck and it had a dangly carrot from the snowman’s nose. The one she selected for Eris depicted Santa in sunglasses with the caption “where my ho ho hos at?” which Lucy was, thankfully, too young to understand.

The three of them shared a tray of waffle fries soaked with cheese. Ordinarily, Nesta might have been afraid that it would cause cardiac arrest but – as everybody was fond of saying – it was Christmas, after all.

‘Mistletoe.’ Eris jerked his head to the plastic clump that had seen better days hanging from a corner of a roof. It was likely trotted out every year for giggling new couples to smooch beneath.

‘It’s a parasitic plant.’

Eris nodded. ‘And toxic.’

‘Good. We’ll steer clear of it.’

He narrowed his eyes at her as he finished the last of their food. ‘You never said why you hate Christmas.’

‘You never asked,’ she replied simply, weaving her way through the thinning crowd. The snow had started again, falling thicker with every moment.

Nesta wasn’t sure how much Eris knew about their background. A mother from old money married to a business man who had a penchant for making risky deals. That spilt over into a gambling habit that he did well to hide. A sudden illness killed her while Nesta was still at boarding school. Her father, who had been tasked with overseeing her will and money, blew it all in casinos when he claimed to be on business trips. If their father ever had two coins to rub together, he’d be down at the track betting on whatever he could, certain he was backing the winner this time. Just one more bet, just one more bet. It was the mantra he lived by. And fine, he could ruin his life – but not theirs. The moment he dared to ask Nesta to borrow the money she’d sweated blood to earn, she was gone. It was better to live in a poxy room in a shared house with strangers than with him.

Speaking quietly, measuring her words so Lucy wouldn’t quite understand, Nesta explained to Eris that she never really had a proper Christmas. There wasn’t a gaping hole in her life without it because she couldn’t miss what she’d never had. She’d never left out milk and cookies for Santa or made decorations for their tree because their mother would never allow the guests to see anything tacky or homemade. The cards she was forced to make at school were always gifted back to the teacher, knowing her parents would look at them once then drop them in the bin. Nesta had never been excited to see her parents in the holidays – then in public school, she’d been the girl who thought she was better than them all so had no friends to celebrate with.

‘It’s just a stupid day.’

Eris stopped her with a sturdy hand on her shoulder. ‘I hate Christmas because I have to be the bad guy due to others’ mistakes. You hate Christmas for an altogether very sad reason and that’s not on.’

‘Drop it, Eris.’

Lucy made a squealing noise as Eris pretended to drop her.

‘I mean it. Is there anything you like about Christmas?’

‘Yes, when all the decorations are torn down and the world returns to normality,’ she replied primly, leading the way to the car park.

The rest of the Vanserra clan were already waiting for them in their car. They bundled Lucy up and hurried back into Eris’ car to head home before the snow grew worse. Nesta almost wished she was in the other car because Eris wouldn’t let the matter drop.

‘Lucien said you like dancing. Why don’t we go and watch the ballet? The Nutcracker is Christmassy. I bet it’s running until New Year. We live in the same city.’

‘You’d come and watch the ballet?’

‘Your company is atrocious, but I can probably manage it for an evening if I medicate with alcohol,’ he said, reversing the car out of the spot.

Nesta curled her hand into a fist as a whooshing noise left her chest. ‘I’m just astounded how you are still single.’ 

The smirk on his face was a dangerous thing. It curled one side of his mouth reminiscent of a lion locking onto its prey. ‘No woman can tame me.’

‘No woman can stand you,’ she snorted.

As Boney M started up on the radio, Eris turned the dial as loud as possible so the bass shook the car as he delivered a frightening rendition of it, trying to coax her to join in.

Back at the house, the children busied themselves with slopping soapy suds around the sink in anticipation of baking biscuits. Christmas seemed to be a time where parents said yes to whatever whim a child had. Lucien made coffee for them all while Elain cleared space on the counter. Yes, their house was small, but it was cosy. Children’s drawings were tacked up on the fridge with magnets, a wiggling snowman danced the moment any motion was detected. It wasn’t dirty or run down in anyway. Herbs grew in little ceramic pots on the windowsill with the family’s handprints marked on in brightly coloured paints. There were pictures of them framed on the wall – not sterile photographs where they were all told how to sit and turn their neck. Love seeped out of the pictures: one of Lucien and Elain on their wedding day caught in mid-laughter that a friend had taken; another of Jos peering at his baby sister in her mother’s arms the day of her birth, Elain tired but content in it; Lucien asleep with a slumbering child wrapped in each arm whilst Elain gave a thumbs up on the other couch. Toys and books were left out as evidence that children resided there rather than tidying and ushering the children to their rooms. They couldn’t afford holidays to the Caribbean or the Swiss alps to ski, but none of that mattered to any of them. Their holidays were spent with each other creating memories.

As Elain supervised the baking, Nesta could do nothing but watch with the gnawing feeling of longing taking up more space in her chest. She would always be her little sister, but Elain had her own life. A life that Nesta sat on the fringes of due to her own self-isolation.

Their afternoon was spent busy decorating the biscuits – and shovelling more in despite Elain’s warnings that they’d all spoil their dinner. Lucien was the worst, encouraging the children to eat more the moment Elain turned her back on them.

An excitement flew through the house as darkness encroached. The countdown began to bedtime with both children – and their father – rushing to prepare for the arrival of Santa Claus. They furiously peeled enough carrots for every reindeer, with Lucien insisting it wasn’t fair to only provide for Rudolph.

Elain threaded her hands together, listening in on her husband encouraging the magic from the other room, a happy expression making her face shine. ‘I think he’s worse than them.’

‘He’s always been obsessed with Christmas,’ Eris conceded.

‘We usually watch a film before bed on Christmas Eve. You’re welcome to join us – but equally, if you need to scurry back upstairs for work, that’s fine.’

Just because Nesta had no Christmas traditions, it didn’t mean she could never have any. She gripped Eris’ knee, thwarting his escape. ‘Can we join?’

Three little words and Elain’s entire demeanour shifted. The brightest smile that Nesta had ever seen from her was offered to both of them. ‘Yes! Of course, you can. Jos, come here.’

Elain relayed the good news to him that his grinchy aunt and uncle would endure another Christmas film with them. The boy tore off to one of the bags from the market then returned, brandishing stripy pyjamas at them.

‘Sorry, Lucien suggested it and Jos begged us to buy them. We usually all wear matching pyjamas and we couldn’t resist.’

Nesta held up a top with a luminous green face on it. A caption beneath read NEVER NAUGHTY.

‘We match,’ said Eris drily, holding up his own set of Grinch pyjamas.

Well, that was spectacular. Two more nights, Nesta thought to herself. She rubbed her hands together, staring at her nephew. ‘We may as well go all in.’

Elain insisted on snapping photos of her and Eris in their matching outfits. He threw an arm around her, hauling her to his body, posing as if they were on the red carpet. A horrific flashback to her prom night, when Elain insisted on taking photos of her in lieu of their mother, came to her. Her date had been a sallow faced, hook-nosed boy who she’d ditched as soon as they stepped through the doors. It didn’t seem possible to get rid of Eris when they were sharing a bedroom.

They were locked in for Christmas. The tree twinkled in the corner; a couple of its branches leant across the television screen. Nesta gazed at the row of cards above the fire. The colouring went out of the lines, the paint had been smudged, and the writing was near illegible – but each card was displayed with pride. Gestures from children to their parents showcasing their love. A lump formed in Nesta’s throat.

The Vanserras were dressed to the nines in their matching pyjamas – all red and white with snowflakes and prancing reindeers on – ready to take the annual photograph of them gathered together.

Lucy draped blankets on them all then tucked Nesta and Eris in with several of her plush toys. She opted to cuddle up with her parents. Jos flitted between the two couches, unable to make his mind up about which adults he wanted to sprawl across. The black and white film started up so, instead, he lay with his chin propped up in his hands on the carpet near the fireplace.

Nesta hadn’t seen this movie before. It was a strange choice from the children.

It struck her that she hadn’t checked her phone all day. Usually, it was a regimented repetition. Nesta made it her personal goal to reply within an hour, preferably thirty minutes. She found today that the desire wasn’t there, as if a cycle had been broken. Even Eris had left his phone upstairs and remained glued to the television screen. His head rested against a fist and a leg spread out onto Nesta’s lap beneath the blankets.

Maybe she had needed this, despite not wanting it. There was something so calming about being gathered together with the fire burning, everybody snuggled up beneath the blankets and the snow falling outside. Christmas was a chance to pause. A chance to be present.

“Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. And when he isn't around, he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?”

That line made Nesta’s face go slack. It wasn’t right what she’d thought earlier that nobody would miss her. There were people in this room who would miss her – people who had missed her every year that she hadn’t turned up to celebrate with them. They hadn’t wanted her for the gifts she brought. Nesta couldn’t even say she was the best company. They had just wanted to see her.

Beneath the blanket, Eris gave her hand a gentle squeeze at her forlorn expression.

Her eyes slid across to the room to her little sister. Elain cuddled up to Lucien with Lucy curled on her lap. The three of them were blissfully content. His arm was around his wife, a cheek resting against her head.

Most of the emails that she usually rushed to respond to were sent by superiors who gave her a pat on the back for replying so quickly. For forgoing family time over the festive period to concentrate on work. The same ones who ignored their families – if they had them – to commit themselves to a screen. Did she want that? Did she want to come home to a bleak, cold apartment with nothing waiting for her night after night? Why couldn’t she surrender a few weekends of the year to come and visit the family that wanted her to still be a part of their lives? The emails wouldn’t miss her. Her colleagues didn’t need to sacrifice their time with friends and family because the texts and emails were always still there on a Monday morning. The world wouldn't stop turning if she didn't respond in the self-allocated window of time.

Her stance of hating Christmas didn’t deter others. Her life wasn’t changed by making that bold suggestion. Her revulsion had its roots in the emptiness that the day brought with it. Her expectations shrank over the years, her disappointment shifting to prickly dislike.

Christmas didn’t need to be perfect. It could be plastic mistletoe, children given too much sugar that they wouldn’t sleep, and a tall man elbowing you in the spine in his attempts at a rescue from the ice. All of those things had made Nesta laugh, brought her joy that she would have denied herself in self-isolation.

By the end of the movie, Eris had brought his arm around her as she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Jos clambered into her lap and wrapped his arms around her neck too.

‘Someone must be chopping onions somewhere,’ she choked out.  

‘Or your heart’s grown three sizes,’ Eris mused, handing her a tissue.

It certainly did feel that way. It felt that way when Jos begged his parents for Nesta to put him to bed and read the story instead of them. Eris had caught her by the wrist and whispered that she'd moved up the rankings and held the crown of favourite aunt. She perched on the edge of the bed reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to him and his already-sleeping sister. Nesta could not imagine not being there now.

‘You need to go to sleep now or Father Christmas won’t visit,’ she whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead.

‘Make sure that dad puts the fire out. I don’t want him to burn his shoes on the way down the chimney.’

A soft laugh broke out of her as she smoothed his wayward hair down. ‘I’ll make sure dad knows.’  

[londonfoginacup]

7, 8 and a wildcard of your choice for those anxious asks (haha) - PLS AND THANK YOUUUUU! Okay my computer just put that into all caps but you know what? I'mma let it stand. If those don't spark joy or you've already done them, just swap them out for whatever you want!! xox

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

If writing were my full time job and I was able to do it all day every day, I think I could still not get written every fic that's in my brain right now

What project(s) are you currently working on?

I'm plotting out my advent fic for Christmas, plus a smaller Christmas oneshot, plus I'm doing a sequel to my Halloween fic from... either last year or the year before? for Halloween this year. Whichever one the toothpick fic was. And I'm writing wordplay today, and I've been revisiting a fic I wanted to write for Big Bang a few years ago to see if I could maybe write it for BB this year, oh and I signed up for Soulmates but I don't have any actual plans yet, so hopefully that one comes to me soon. So... those are my immediate fic plans.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post

Rarely, if ever, would deserters make it across the border without being caught, and that’s when they were brought to Louis. They always come eager to give up any and all information about their country, they’re not afraid of where they’ve been brought. They think they’re survivors. The warriors, on the other hand, would cross boldly, day or night. They believe that they are doing their country a boon, fighting off the slowly encroaching south. They have no fear. This one's not either of those. He's clearly trying so hard to keep himself still but it's doing nothing for him. His breath is coming out in little huffs through his nose and there's a good chance the underside of that blindfold is wet with tears. When Louis walks forward, his steps echoing around the small room, the boy does everything he can to shrink in on himself, make himself appear smaller. With his gangly frame, all he really manages is to look like a twisted spider. This isn't one for me to break, Louis thinks. This looks like one I'll have to put back together. He is who he needs to be. To the rescued he is a kind face and a gentle reassurance. To the warriors, he is who they fear. He doesn't know who he has to be to this boy, though. He hasn't gotten one like this before. He leans down so that his lips are directly next to the ear of the quivering boy. "Hello, Love," he says. It isn't his gentle voice. It's a voice meant to send a warning; if you are not who you say you are, I will find out. "Nod if you want me to rip the duct tape off, shake your head if you want me to pull it slowly." His voice drips condescension, just as he means it to. The boy freezes when Louis starts to talk, probably another wave of adrenaline giving him a few moments of control. He's still for a moment and Louis waits patiently until the boy tentatively jerks his head back and forth. Warriors always take the faster option. They want a swift death, don't think they'll survive to see sunrise so might as well end it before something worse comes. That's how they're trained. This boy isn't a warrior.

[unicyclehippo]

Top 5 rocks you've seen

fantastic question it got somewhat long & weird

rock #1093 i was nine & thought it might be a fossil, or pretended it was. my best friend at the time was a freckled gangly boy named hugo & we spent all of our time by the creek at school. we were going to be palaeontologists!

rock #9285866 tiny, irritating, barely more than a chip off the old rock. snuck into my shoe on a walk. spent two more minutes in the sun beneath the trees getting it out of my shoe.

rock #30000087371 i don’t think it rly counts as one rock except in my head. buried in the cliffside of the mountain (small) i climbed with my siblings five christmas’s past. most of the walk had been a million agonising steps switchbacked up through the bush. lantana choked the path on either side, eucalypt stung the air, and the concreted steps were slick with morning rain. it was a single file march all the way up and at each point where the path turned back on itself to creep higher, it was as busy as a bus station as those who were coming back down huddled to wait for everyone climbing, or for some (me) to catch their breath. people laughed, sidestepped. traded quiet happy christmas, good mornings. lantana scratched their ankles as they stepped aside for a stranger. eventually, you hit the last part of the trail. the bush fell away and you came to a great big rock that made up the bald head of the mountain. a trail had been worn over the face of it, a trudging line up the giants cheek and over its brow. i like to imagine it knows we are there. i like to imagine every morning, when the hikers make it to the summit, it watched the sun rise with them.

rock #26778192 this one is very smooth and flat, with bands of different colours. very pretty!

rock #333398023007 i made my way west along a red red road. trucks are the size of skyscrapers here. birds are the size of trucks. there are roos with red dust in their fur that spend their mornings and nights and, for some, their last moments at the side of the road. what would it be like to slow down beside one and offer a ride to the hitchhiker? what would a kangaroo say if it could talk, if it could wrestle its own tail to tuck into the footwell? i would play the songs it only hears in scattered bursts as a car tears down the single lane highway. i would tell it about the city, something it has never known, and the ocean, and get my door and windshield busted by a powerful kick for my troubles, which isn’t the roo’s fault. it’s kind and fun and exciting, in my mind, to tell it about a great desert of water and salt and strange soft creatures but i wasn’t thinking like a kangaroo when i said it. it must be scary, the idea of that much water. it must sound cruel to a desert creature, that much undrinkable water. out near the where the state tips over into true desert, a boy found a rock that was the toe of a dinosaur, the largest in australia. it lived here when the desert was a sea. maybe the kangaroo wouldn’t be scared to hear about the sea. maybe it already knows what it is and it was thoughtless of me to bring it up. it’s kind of cool, don’t you think, that dinosaur bones take in the minerals of the earth and become petrified and fossilised? the earth held them and said how remarkable they are, unforgettable. they became their own headstone.

[silverhyenaart]

Here's a part that I really enjoyed from Chapter 12 of Into the Light. (So, spoilers ahead.) But I just love this feminine empowerment here.

* * *

Sounds of metal scraping on metal echoed throughout the tower, growing louder and louder the closer they got. Upon reaching the top, Sally motioned for Kautounie to wait outside the door.

"Hmph... well, you're the boss, My Lady," the Konderi grunted, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, "just don't wander off further away then I can hear you scream."

Mostly, Sally just didn't want Kautounie's temper erupting on the old doctor, regardless of how much he might be deserving of it.

Dr. Finkelstein hadn't even heard Sally come in, having been far too focused on welding some sort of metal construct together. The entirety of his lab was filled with these machines, many of them cut open and in pieces while three more of the contracts were being crafted from the finest bits and parts of the other devices. Hydraulics hissed, steel scraped against steel, and sparks crackled.

"D-Dr. Finkelstein?" Sally called out, over the noise.

The old scientist barely even looked up from his work, not even bothering to back up his wheelchair to face his former servant. Even as Igor tapped on Dr. Finkelstein's arm and waved frantically, he was simply waved off.

"Just get me that welding torch, would you, Igor?" Dr Finkelstein grumbled, growing more and more irritated, "I thought I requested NOT to be disturbed!"

At his snap, Sally shrank away, that old fear creeping back into her mind while her spine tingled in a most unpleasant way. Subconsciously, she began to pick and mess with the stitches on her wrists. Even with Zero by her side, Sally never liked going near the old man without Jack. The Pumpkin King always put that old codger in his place when he got out of line with her. But even the future Pumpkin Queen could not afford such a luxury today.

"I-Im sorry doctor, but it's-"

"Can't you see I'm busy, girl?" Dr. Finkelstein growled, "What that boy was thinking putting you in charge of the town I shall never know!"

A frown crossed Sally's usually gentle features as her fists clenched, "That's exactly why I'm here!"

She circled around to the front of the desk, pounding her small hands against the metal surface, causing the partially built machines strewn about to rattle. Finally; that got the old timer's attention!

"I was checking to make sure that you and your wife were okay!" Sally stated, straining to hide the hurt in her eyes, "Behemoth and Clown told me that one of those shadows was seen near your tower!"

"And from what I understand, isn't it your responsibility to see to it that those things don't enter the town at all?" Dr. Finkelstein questioned, scrutinizing the ragdoll with a huff as he adjusted his goggles before smirking, "or have you been too busy entertaining that oversized stray who wandered into town, hrrrmmm?"

In that moment, Sally hesitated to answer; this was unlike anything that the town had faced before!

"Kautounie Redsun has agreed to help us protect the town, doctor," she finally said, trying to keep her irritation hidden, "a-and I have plans to gather some volunteers and check the perimeters of town to make sure-"

"Then perhaps you'd better get to work, Sally, and leave me to mine!" snapped Dr. Finkelstein, "At least my machines know how to obey orders!"

It didn't take a genius to figure out just what Dr. Finkelstein was up to; crafting automatons to protect the town. However, his sharp and abrasive words stung like nettles. For even a less than stellar mind could understand the implications of what he was saying.

"How soon will your creations be ready?" Sally asked, biting back her tears, "According to Kautounie, there's an entire legion of shadows set to attack Halloween Town!"

Another grumble left his thin lips as his gangly, cracked teeth, "That I will discuss only with the Pumpkin King, girl."

"Jack named me-!" protested Sally, before the mad scientist interrupted her.

"Until your last name is Skellington I'm not taking commands from you, you wretched girl!"

Zero let out a few sharp barks, shrinking closer to Sally as the laboratory door crashed against the wall with a deafening 'THUD'.

"Oh no..." Sally whispered to herself, with a foreboding sense of dread.

Fur bristling and ears pinned back against her skull, Kautounie stormed over to the mad scientist.

"Oi there, melon head!"

Just as Dr. Finkelstein backed up his wheelchair in an effort to turn around, the scientist found himself hoisted out of the contraption by a pair of clawed paws grasping the front of his lab coat. He let out a surprised cry, only able to flail his arms around while his legs dangled uselessly.

"I suggest you answer Lady Sally's question before I perform a little experiment of my own!" Kautounie snarled, flashing her deadly fangs.

Her amber eyes darted to the nearby window, a wicked smile forming on her face, "Just how far can I make you fly, huh?"

While the doctor sputtered in terror, feebly reaching for the remotes connected to his wheelchair, Sally immediately went into damage control mode, "Kautounie! Please... p-put him down, gently please..."

The ragdoll did her best to calm the situation, especially before Dr. Finkelstein or Igor would develop a very rational fear of yet another Redsun. Zero began to growl, the fur on his own hackles rising. The ghostly dog nudged against Sally's side, whimpering softly.

"You're lucky she's here!" Kautounie snapped, coming muzzle to duckbill with the doctor, "Vengeance is more my speed! Now answer her Ladyship's fucking question!"

While the demon huntress may not have put Dr. Finkelstein back into his wheelchair as nicely as Sally would have liked, the ragdoll still considered it a victory for diplomacy. No blood was spilled. No bones broken. And she wouldn't have to explain to Jack why Dr. Finkelstein would no longer be working with them. At this point, Sally would take what she could get with grace.

Growling, Kautounie stalked towards the window, ears flicking backwards every now and again to listen.

With little issues moving forward, Dr. Finkelstein gave Sally the information she'd initially asked for, "T-they'll be ready b-by tomorrow... provided that you limit these interruptions!"

"Thank you, doctor," said Sally, remaining as cordial as possible before taking her leave, "that will be all."

* * *

Quite honestly, I can't really see Sally joining in a fist fight or tavern brawl. Her power comes from her mind and her gentle heart. That being said, being in command of the muscle always helps.

Anyways, if you'd like to read what I've got for Into the Light, here it is!

[motownfiction]

crying in the cold

Steph takes a long walk on the day after Christmas. It’s as cold as can be (at least, that’s how it feels), but she doesn’t care. She can’t be inside right now. She can’t be anywhere.

After the way she sat in her car and cried last night, she would have thought she got it all out of her system. Apparently, there’s no way to purge yourself of Charlie Doyle, especially if you screw him on the second anniversary of his brother’s death. Steph wishes she was thinking of Sam right now, of his sweet smile and of the songs that were always stuck in his head, but she can’t. Charlie was supposed to be the proxy. The stand-in for the brother Steph loved and could never see again (because of Charlie, because of his laziness, because of his fear). Charlie wasn’t supposed to be anything special. But Steph can’t stop thinking about him, anyway.

She doesn’t really know what it is. When they were very young, Steph didn’t usually think twice about Charlie, even when he was sitting near to her. He was just Sam’s kid brother, a tall and gangly thing who played the piano and turned pink if you told him he looked nice. When she agreed to meet him at the motel last night, she was thinking of him just like that. She should have known it would be different when she really looked into his eyes … should have known she was going to look past him and straight at herself.

They were both looking for their own reflections in the irises of another. Steph knew it when she got into the car and drove over there.

She just didn’t know it was going to hurt so much.

It didn’t take long before Charlie stopped seeming like Sam’s kid brother and started seeming a whole lot more like Charlie, his own person, one Steph never really knew even when she would have said she did. When he kissed her, she felt his guilt – for Sam’s accident, for kissing Sam’s old girlfriend, for feeling like somehow, he was getting back at a spirit for something he did almost twenty years ago. Steph knew she was a distraction – a piece of idle revenge. She just didn’t care. It was a broken-down Christmas Carol, and she was all too bored and all too sad to step away.

She walks toward the mailbox at the end of her street, a good place to stop, turn around, and think. But she’s not doing much thinking. Not much that makes sense, anyway. No, Steph’s just crying in the cold, worried her tears will freeze to her cheeks and leave her looking like a sad doll forever. She tries to hum (I’ll never let you see / the way my broken heart is hurting me … ), but it all comes out like a sob.

When she turns around and heads back to her house, she wonders if the rest of her holidays are always going to be like this. She thinks about all the Christmases she’s spent with her mother, with the Sheehans, with the Doyles – a long, long time ago. She thinks about those years, and they don’t make her feel so cold. She wonders if the rest of her holidays will have to feel like this one.

Dammit, she hopes not.

(part of @nosebleedclub december challenge -- day xxii! still behind, still behind ... damn holidays!)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey do you have any fics where john sits in sherlocks lap? Like in any way, shaoe or firm thats just my fave trope. Love your content btw.

Hey Lovely!!

Ahhh, because of you, I started a list, so not everything nor a lot is here, sadly! I never had the foresight to consider it as something people would want, so I’ve never tagged fics, LOL. Here’s what I got that have some sort of Lap Sitting in the fic! 

Feel free, Lovelies, to add your own recs!!

LAP SITTING

The Healing Touch by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 2,307 w., 1 Ch. || Caretaking,  Domestic Fluff, Stroppy Sherlock, John Loves Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sofa Cuddles, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock's broken his foot and he's becoming unbearably stroppy. Good thing John has the healer's touch... ;) Part 3 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Where You Are by Mazarin221b (E, 2,478 w., 1 Ch. || Beach Sex, First Time, Fluff, Smut, Holidays, Pining, Lap Sitting, Stroppy Sherlock, Touching) – He can admit he’s secretly a little glad Sherlock didn’t come with him. He needs a break. Sherlock is a handful at the best of times, and the near-constant apologizing, fixing, dealing-with, and following up on is exhausting. The near-constant unrequited attraction is a bit exhausting, too, to be honest, and John could really use a tiny bit of rest from the relentless hammering on his brain and heart.

Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to--how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?--Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 06 | End

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Word Count: 7.5k

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, potion influence (? what’s the correct term here), unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, Hoseok licks his fingers...

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Final chapter! We’re finally here. I bet you didn’t think I’d actually finish this series, haha. Two series down though! SO...I’m very rusty with smut. I haven’t written it since like...October so please be gentle with me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and have liked reading this series! Please reblog it so others can find it and send me comments/reviews/feedback via an ask or by reblogging this! :D I love to read them all and your support has helped to encourage me to keep going.

Last Chapter ; 

-

Surprisingly, you don’t see Hoseok for a few days after the Winter Solstice Ball. He’s not present at any of the meals, nor do you see him around the castle either. It simultaneously confuses and concerns you as you worry that he’s feeling too awkward to be around you.

Seokjin, at a pre-Christmas meal at his house, had tried to confirm that he wasn’t avoiding you but instead was simply busy with preparing the magical creatures for the Christmas break. There were exchanges with other schools around the world that occurred at Christmas, meaning that Hoseok was constantly travelling with his creatures and taking custody of the foreign creatures which would be used for the next semester. 

You’d viewed that with suspicion as you didn’t recall Hoseok nor Jisoo telling you that, but it did seem like a logical reason. Chaeyoung had backed the argument at the time, her mouth half full of roasted turkey. Given your suspicions about their involvement in trying to get Hoseok and you into a relationship had caused you to watch her suspiciously though.

It was only when Jimin, who had also been present for the meal, had confirmed it with a nod of his head that you’d finally believed them. As far as you knew, Jimin had no involvement and he’d genuinely fascinated with how close the two of you had been at the ball.

So even though it made you feel a little paranoid at his sudden absence after the kiss, you chose to trust your friends and believe what they said. You were already concerned about how to just interact with him when you saw him, you certainly didn’t need to obsess over the fact he ‘might’ be avoiding you.

Instead of letting your mind focus on that though, you instead throw yourself into any work you can do. The Christmas break sees most students gone and only a handful remaining behind. Some of those were because they wanted to continue studying or they didn’t want to leave their friends, others were because they didn’t have a stable home to go back to.

It made your heartache to know that some of your students had such poor home lives but it wasn’t something you could do anything about. Instead, you help to organise visits to Hogsmeade for the students so they can get to enjoy some of their break by just having fun and experiencing some of the Christmas cheer.

You’d also got through all the essays that you had to mark and the first month of the new semester had already been carefully planned out for when the students all returned. This meant that you’d done nearly all your work though and there were only so many books you could read without getting bored.

So you offered your services to the other professor’s who had remained behind, figuring that you could help them out while also reducing your boredom. This is why you were currently in the potion storeroom doing a stocktake; recording how many of each ingredient was left, if there were any that were running low or had run out completely, what potions were stored away and how much of each one.

It wasn’t the most interesting job but it helped to take your mind off things and you felt a little useful at least. You’d only been doing it for half-an-hour before you’d quickly realised why no one liked to do this job, though. The storeroom was bigger than it initially appeared and contained multiple shelving units, with each shelf packed full of ingredients, potions and spare potion-making ingredients.

There was a stale smell to the air which mingled with the faint remnants of potions that had been created in the many cauldrons that littered the room. Alongside that, there was so much dust in the room that you genuinely wondered if anyone used this place. Whilst you weren’t one to advocate using magic for stuff that you could just do by hand, there was no reason to not just do a quick cleaning spell in here.

Then again, you’ve never been amazing at potions so maybe that kind of spell might do something to one of the ingredients. So you just carry on, occasionally sneezing whenever you cause a small dust cloud to appear.

You end up so in the zone that you don’t hear the door open and close, nor the soft footfalls of someone walking in closer. This means you shriek in surprise when you hear your name in a familiar, low voice. Jerking forwards, you knock into the shelves in front of you and wince at the sound of glass hitting each other as bottles wobble dangerously.

“Shit!” Cursing, you miss the bottle with a mother-of-pearl sheen that teeters from the top shelf dangerously. Hoseok, obviously concerned with how he’d surprised you, rushes forward to help stabilise the bottles that are on the verge of smashing all around you.

As he grabs one that’s rolling towards the edge, you reach out to stop another one at the exact moment the top bottle drops. It hits your hand hard, bouncing before hitting the shelving unit and shattering. The potion inside splatters all over you, Hoseok and the shelf. Spiralled steams immediately begin to rise from where it impacts and you vaguely remember that amortentia looks like this.

But then you’re cursing loudly, sputtering as you get a mouthful of it. Without meaning to, you swallow it all and cringe as you feel it slide down your throat. The sound of Hoseok choking causes you to look over and you realise he’s got a mouthful of it as well, his face pinched as he sticks his tongue out from the taste of it.

“What was that?” He asks, blinking rapidly before wiping away what has splashed onto his face. For such a small bottle, it had managed to almost everywhere and even some stray strands of his hair were wet; steam rising slowly.

“If I remember my potions correctly...amortentia.” You say, lips twisting as you stare up at the top of the unit. Why this potion had been stored up there was beyond you as there was nothing else up there but dust. At least no other bottles had broken.

“Ah,” He muses before pausing, eyes widening as something clicks in his head. “Wait, isn’t that the love potion thing?”

“It doesn’t cause people to fall in love. If you remember back to your own potions lessons, no potion is capable of causing true love. Instead, it causes intense infatuation or obsess-oh…” Now your own eyes widen as you stare directly into Hoseok’s, warmth curling within your gut and rushing through your veins until your whole body feels hot.

Almost instantly, the two of you look away from each other. Coughing awkwardly, you shift to the other side of the storeroom, a hand pressed to your cheeks in a futile effort to cool them. Instead, they just feel even warmer.

What happened if two people took it? Especially if those two people already liked each other anyway? Did it just negate itself?

The slow burn within you said no and you let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the cool wood of the unit next to you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming in...I wasn’t being quiet or anything.” Hoseok mutters and you glance over, noting the rosy pink gracing the apples of his cheeks. You wonder if it’s because he feels embarrassed or if it’s because he’s experiencing the same, intense feelings that you are.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to calm yourself only to realise that all you could smell was Hoseok. His scent was so strong that it was like he was standing right next to you instead of being on the other side of the room. Almost immediately, you knew it was the potion.

From what you remembered, amortentia caused those feelings for whoever administered it. Considering neither you nor Hoseok had been the one to serve it, you would’ve thought that it would just negate itself. Instead, it seems to have decided that you’ve both administered it to each other.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I was too deep into my work,” Giving him a nervous laugh, you try to reassure him so he doesn’t get too worried that he’s done something wrong. “How come you’re here? I haven’t seen you in days.”

“Err, yeah...sorry. I’ve been really busy. I forgot to tell you that we usually start doing magical creature exchanges around Christmas to help educate our students on foreign creatures while also allowing other nations to learn about our creatures. It’s been a little hectic as I’ve been exchanging hippogriff’s, bowtruckles and nifflers with Castelobruxo in Brazil. Which as you can imagine has been a little stressful because I think I’ve almost lost about six niffler’s and almost lost a hand to one of the hippogriff’s.” He turns away from you to tidy up some of the shelves, missing your sigh of relief as you realise everyone has been right.

He hadn’t been avoiding you.

“I’m finished now though, for the moment. It took me longer than I liked as the fire slugs we got from Castelobruxo have been continuously burning their cages but I have that completely fixed now. I thought that I’d come to find you as we haven’t talked in a few days and I got told you were here. So...here I am.” Giving you a weak smile, Hoseok turns to look at you while shrugging.

He looks slightly uncomfortable now; a sheen on his golden tan skin while his face looks redder than normal. His hands grasp at nothing on his sides and you find yourself hyper fixated on them. Have you ever really noticed how long and slender his fingers are? 

Almost immediately, you imagine those fingers somewhere else and almost moan out loud as you clench inner muscles around nothing. Was this a normal side effect of amortentia? You didn’t know what was happening and you weren’t the best at potions so this was all foreign to you.

At least you’d come to terms with the fact that you were attracted to him and would like to perhaps try a relationship. Otherwise, this would’ve been even more awkward. Not that he knew that yet, which is probably why he’s looking a little distressed.

You don’t feel that it’s the best moment to blurt that out though. Sure, it would reduce any uncomfortableness between you both but was it a good idea to admit you find him attractive too when you’re both suffering the effects of amortentia?

Probably not.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. A few of the others told me that you’d be busy doing this. I didn’t even know that magical creature exchange was a thing!” Cheerfully, you smile at him when he glances at you.

“Still, I should have told you. I’m really sorry.” He mumbles, reaching out to gently brush a scratchy pouch idly. His insistence at apologising causes you to smile and shake your head amused at how genuinely remorseful he is that he’d forgotten to tell you this one thing.

“Honestly, it’s fine. It’s your job, don’t say sorry for doing your job, okay? You’re a great caretaker for the magical creatures and I’m not surprised you forgot to mention it to me. I don’t tell you stuff about my job all the time because you don’t need to know it! So don’t stress.” Reaching for the checklist that you’d been running through earlier, you note down the broken amortentia potion with a small reprimand for the untidy storeroom.

As such, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s face twists as he forces himself to remain quiet.

The two of you remain silent for the next five minutes or so with you attempting to carry on counting the ingredients and potions on the shelves while Hoseok merely lingers in the background. He was so cute.

It would have been a comfortable silence between you both, like you always had with him, if not for the lingering awkwardness of the untalked kiss and the flaring desire of the potion. Shifting awkwardly, your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to relieve some pressure. It doesn’t work and you have to stifle a groan at the small sharp jolt of pleasure.

“Merlin,” Hoseok whispers, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. His face is even more flushed and you note a slight sheen to his skin as if he’s too hot. If he’s even remotely as warm as you are then it’s entirely understandable and you wonder what you look like to him.

Blowing out a breath, he attempts to fan his face before pinching some of his shirt and pulling at it to get some cooler air. You can tell it doesn’t work because you’ve been subconsciously doing that for the last minute and all it’s done is cause you to imagine Hoseok’s lips brushing along your chest instead of the poor imitation of a breeze.

What finally tipped you over the edge to deciding you’d done enough counting today was yet another glance over to Hoseok. His tall and lithe form has been almost hidden beneath his robes all this time, but an uncomfortable shift causes him to reveal more of his body.

You weren’t normally such a blatant person but you couldn’t help the way your eyes drag down his body, taking in every crease in his crisp white button-up. The key moment that told you to get out of the room now was when your eyes trailed even further below, taking in the leather of his belt.

And the obvious tent in his trousers.

Swallowing so hard that you choke, you quickly move towards the door. The rush of blood throbbing in your ears drowns out Hoseok’s call of surprise, your focus solely on getting out of the overwhelmingly hot room.

The room with the man you’d very recently had decided you were attracted to both romantically and sexually. Not a good combo when you were almost burning from within with lust for him, especially when you know he’s turned on right now.

Running a hand down your face as you rush through the corridors, you can’t stop the quiet groan that leaves your mouth as you do so. Your clothes feel too tight for your body, almost suffocating and the aching need for fingers or something more between your legs is becoming unbearable. 

“Y/N, wait!” Finally, Hoseok’s voice breaks through, causing you to falter as you almost pause. Even shouting, his voice is low and sends shivers through your body. A tiny whine escapes and you push forwards, almost jogging now in your effort to get back to your quarters.

Maybe a shower would get rid of this. A very cold shower, or a cold bath. You’d make a potion to counteract it but you’re nowhere near good enough to combat an advanced potion like that. 

As your door finally comes into view, and for a moment you marvel at how fast you’ve managed to move from the dungeons that house the potions classroom and the store you’d been working into your quarters.

Not quite fast enough though as Hoseok’s long legs finally let him catch up, his hand reaching out and gently grasping at your arm. He’s touching you through multiple layers of clothing and yet your skin is almost burning, the desire to have him against your bare skin stronger than ever.

You get the feeling that he’s experiencing the same as he suddenly retracts his hand, almost as if he’d burned it and lets out a hiss. The sound is sibilant and low, his breath escaping him quick and you feel a strong urge to hear it once more. 

Still, he doesn’t let his surprise or shock stop him. A look at his face shows you that his expression is a mix of concern and worry beneath the flushed cheeks of lust and glassy eyes of desire. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something? I didn’t mean to if I did. Please don’t run away from me!” He begs, one hand moving out towards you almost like it has a mind of its own. The way he looks at it, with a scowl like it’s doing something wrong, almost makes you laugh as you can understand his frustration.

You’ve had to stop yourself from reaching out to him at least twice now.

Instead, you give him a tense smile and try to ignore the fact that he’s standing a little awkwardly. It takes far more effort than you’d like to not look down because you know it’s because he has an erection that is probably uncomfortable. Something he likely doesn’t want to bring attention to.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. I just...I just needed to get out of that room, you know.” You let your words trail off awkwardly, fidgeting with your hands and trying desperately not to look at his crotch. As usual, though, the temptation to look was made all the stronger by your knowledge that you couldn’t just ogle his groin openly.

“Ah...yeah, er, right. It was quite...quite warm.” He pauses in his sentence though, looking a little conflicted and you follow where his eyes are staring. Right down to your chest, which is currently covered by a soft, cream-coloured jumper that you’d happily pulled on this morning.

It feels more than a little stifling right now though.

As soon as he registers where he’s looking, he sputters and starts to resemble a tomato. An absurdly handsome, tall tomato. The longer you let your thoughts linger there then the more stupid they begin to become.

Still, his blatant want fuels your potion addled senses and you start to speak without thinking.

“Do you like me? Romantically and sexually, you know? I’m pretty sure you do. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise, I’m dumb apparently. I know you’ve been trying to subtly tell me for ages now but I finally did! And I liked our kiss and I really want to do it again. Actually, I wanna do more than kiss you-” Hoseok cuts you off by reaching out for your hand, his fingers slightly calloused but still so damn soft.

And hot against you.

“Yes. I like you, a lot. More than you probably realise. I just didn’t want to push you or make you feel awkward-” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him, twisting your fingers until you can thread them through Hoseok’s.

A slight tug has him following you with wide eyes, the door to your classroom being pushed open and closed as soon as he’s inside. Without another word, you push him up against the wood while grasping at his shirt to tug him closer.

Your lips connect with ease and this time, it’s nothing like the previous kiss. Where that was chaste, this had the flames of lust burning deep within and you moaned out as Hoseok licked into your mouth, stoking that heat within you even further. 

Pressing yourself to his body, you let one hand trail along his shirt and sigh as you finally get to confirm that he is exactly as lean and toned as you’d initially thought. Your touch causes him to shiver, breaking away from your lips to press open-mouthed kisses to your jawline almost desperately.

“Hoseok,” Whispering into his ear, you let your other hand run your fingers through his hair before tugging on some of the black strands. “Ah, please.”

You’re not sure what you’re asking him but you don’t care either. Anything he can give you, you’ll take. 

His fingertips scorch your skin as he lets them dance over your waist, slipping beneath your jumper with a hunger he can only show. As he does so, he captures your mouth once more and kisses you with such passion and strength that you’re momentarily left breathless.

Trying to kiss him back with equal fervour while your fingers move to unbutton his shirt, losing grip on them as you refuse to move away to look down. It causes him to laugh into it, the sound pleasant and light, before he gently pushes your hands away.

Pulling away from the kiss, he presses his forehead against your own and gives a breathy smile. Glassy eyes and dilated pupils greet you while his breath hits your skin with each puff as he tries to centre himself. And then he almost looks sad; his brow creasing and the corners of his lips turning down.

“We shouldn’t...not like this. I...I really want, oh fuck I want you so bad. But this wasn’t how I imagined...you deserve better. More romantic or some-” Reaching up, you gently place a finger on his lips to quiet him. He does so instantly and you’re pleased that he doesn’t look annoyed at your interruption.

“It’s not what I imagined either but I’m not turning it down. If anything, I’m glad that potion is helping to bolster my confidence because I doubt I’d have got the courage to do anything. So, please, don’t worry about me. I want you and I’m fully aware of myself. All that potion is doing is bolstering my feelings.” You hadn’t known if that was something he was worried about and you wanted to soothe any fears he might have.

It’d be understandable because part of you is also worried that he’s only doing this because the amortentia potion is fuelling an insatiable need within. The way his eyes widen at your words before his whole body relaxes let’s you know that has been a concern of his, causing you to smile, and reach up to cup his cheeks before pulling him into a quick kiss.

“Now, please carry on and don’t stress. We’ll talk properly after, okay?” Hoseok nods and you bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how eager he looks once more. 

He doesn’t kiss you again though, instead turning and tugging on your hand. Brows rising, you follow him before watching in astonishment as he sweeps your desk clear of any papers or stationery. Part of you wants to complain, but the thought instantly vanishes when he backs you up until you can feel the solid wood against the backs of your thighs.

“Hoseok! My desk? Seriously?” Giggling, you glance around your classroom and feel a little scandalised. The door to your quarters is only a few metres away but he has an almost playful look in his eyes when he grins back at you. You’d protest doing something like this in your classroom louder if it wasn’t for the fact that you were desperate for him.

He doesn’t respond to those comments though, instead reaching out and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. It makes you shiver as you feel that touch all over.

“Once more...you want this, right? You’d want this even without the potion influence?” You wonder how much amortentia addles the mind but you reason to yourself that you’ve thought about this with him for the last week. About him between your thighs, deep inside you and pleasing you.

“I want it. I’ll want it after, too.” Purposefully lowering your voice, you look at him from beneath your lashes before reaching out and hooking your fingers around his belt. Now he’s the one laughing, the sound low and husky as he lets you pull him forward.

As if you’re magnetically attracted, your lips meet his once more and you sigh into his mouth as he pressed himself against you. Whimpering, you slide your hands around his waist and try to pull him closer. A wiggle on the hard surface has Hoseok’s erection pressing onto your clit, causing you to moan out.

He mirrors the noise, the sound hoarse from his throat and you find yourself grinding against him as well as you can. It doesn’t quite work as you have nothing to brace your legs with but neither of you seems to mind. Thankfully though, Hoseok seems to understand and begins a slow roll of his hips that drives you wild.

But it’s not enough though and you shift away from him, dragging your hands down his front and enjoying the way he moans as your nails scrape through his shirt. Reaching his belt, you fumble to undo it and frown in frustration as you struggle with it.

“Let me,” Hoseok says, undoing the buckle with practised ease and slipping the leather through the meal. The sound of it sparks something inside you, causing you to writhe on the desk and beg him to hurry up. A quirk of his lips tells you that he’s amused at your insistence.

Before he does anything else though, he reaches forward and pushes your skirt along your thighs. The soft material only adds to the overstimulation of your already wired body, causing goosebumps to form all over. 

His fingertips on the freshly exposed skin feel even better though, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs sparking fireworks of pleasure and delight at his touch. Letting your head fall back, you just let yourself focus on the feelings and whine softly, pussy clenching around nothing. 

Under normal circumstances, you would want to explore all of Hoseok and have the favour returned in full. You’d want the full experience with plenty of foreplay; his mouth and fingers delving into places that only he’s allowed to see.

You’re too desperate though and you pull your skirt up, shifting until you’re laying back on the desk and trying to tug your underwear off. It’s hard to do on the desk though and you’re thankful when Hoseok takes over, his fingers hooking into the soft material and then you’re feeling cool air.

“Fuck.” He curses, eyes focused solely between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed to realise how wet you are, the underwear in his hands sporting a prominent damp batch that has a shiny spot you can see even from here. 

Being this close to him and now being half-naked, you want him more than ever and you try to grasp at his wrist, needing him to touch you down there. Anything you can get, you’ll take. Hoseok lets you take his hand, guiding his fingers until they’re pressing against the hardened nub of your clit.

The sound you let out is obscenely loud as you move his hand until he’s touching you in just the right way to send arrows of pleasure through your body. Letting go, you let him carry on and enjoy the heat of him on you, sighing in relief at finally getting what you wanted.

It’s not enough though and you try to shift your hips, lifting them in an attempt to line his fingers with your entrance. He can tell what you’re trying to do though and grins, the expression causing his cheeks to rise while his eyes sparkle down at you.

“Do you just want to do it? You’re already really wet.” He asks, raising a brow and you nod quickly. You don’t want to waste any more time and the thought of having his cock in you is more than you can bear. It doesn’t stop you from whining in displeasure as he takes his hand away to finish undoing his trousers.

To try and combat that, you let your fingers take over from where he was. You know your body better than anyone and almost instantly you’ve got a good rhythm going. The sight of him before you, cheeks flushed with his hair looking ruffled and his shirt creased, is unbelievably erotic.

Unzipping his trousers, he pushes them down his thighs alongside his underwear. You don’t even get to see what kind he wears but you find that you don’t care. Beneath the ends of his white button-up shirt, a prominent erection stands proudly towards you. The tip is swollen and red, unsurprising given how long he’s had it for now.

He’s not the longest, nor the thickest, but you don’t care. Hoseok’s cock is quite possibly the most perfect thing you’ve seen at that moment and all you want is for him to be inside you.

Before you can vocalise that though, he’s suddenly grabbing his wand before his trousers fall to the floor. Resting the tip on your belly, he mutters a quick spell and you realise that he’s got more control of himself than you do as he’d remembered to cast a contraceptive spell. A second spell on both you and him protects you from any diseases or infections, after which he practically throws his wand to the side.

You’d protest his lack of care about something so fragile but you can’t bring yourself to care when he moves forward, letting the tip of cock rest against your pussy. The weight, almost surprising given how it defies gravity, is delightful on your clit and he presses it down, moving in a slow roll that has you sighing.

More wetness coats your pussy, which in turn coats him and you grasp one of his hands. Linking your fingers together, you pull him a little closer and mewl as he slides against the sensitive bundle of nerves once more.

“Please, Hoseok. Please” You beg, causing him to smile with satisfaction. 

Placing his free hand on your left leg, he pushes it up a little and out to the side, stretching you open a little more for him. Shivering as the air cools the slick excitement between your legs, you go to protest. It’s cut off though by the feeling of him penetrating you, the blunt head of his cock slipping into you with minimal resistance thanks to how wet you’ve gotten.

Moaning loudly, your eyes close as he stretches you with each inch. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept with anyone and the ragged cry Hoseok pulls from you is directly caused by how good he feels inside you. It’s like you can feel every inch of him as he slides deeper within, the nerves in your walls firing sparks of pleasure continuously until he finally bottoms out.

For a moment, the two of you simply stay in position and bask in the beautiful feeling. You’re panting a little and trying to resist the urge to shift your hips to encourage him to move. One glance at Hoseok tells you to let him move at his own pace.

His face is pinched, brows knitted together and his jaw looking sharper than ever as he clenches his teeth. The fingers wrapped in yours squeeze tightly and after a few seconds, he lets out a guttural groan that sounds as if it was ripped from his gut.

“Shit...Merlin’s beard, you’re so...I don’t know if I’m going to last,” He admits, his cheeks burning redder than ever. “I’m sorry if I don’t. I’ve imagined...this is…” 

Grunting, he slowly pulls out before sliding back into you with one fluid motion of his hips. A broken cry escapes your mouth at the pleasure and you reach down to rub at your clit. You’re just as desperate as he is to orgasm, to feel him thick inside you as you convulse around him while waves of pleasure leave you boneless.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just...move. Please.” You reassure him, trying to smile before your eyes roll back into your head at the second thrust. Still, your words let him gain some confidence and he continues to move in slow and steady snaps of his hips, each drag of his cock better than the last.

Lifting onto your elbows, you risk a glance down to take in the sight of him thrusting into you. His cock is soaked with your wetness and you realise suddenly that it’s causing lewd sounds every time he moves. You’d be embarrassed at it but the sound is strangely erotic to you; the knowledge that he’s caused you to become this wet and experience this much pleasure intoxicating.

The two of you don’t speak for a minute or so after that, far too caught up in just enjoying yourselves and all the feelings that course through your bodies. You suppose the potion is a little to blame for the almost selfish nature of the sex, but there’s also more than enough longing and desire on his side mixing with eagerness and attraction on your own.

“Fuck, I think-I think I’m gonna cum.” Hoseok pants out, his whole chest moving as he gasps out from the strenuous effort of sex. His face has a sheen to it and the damper patches on his white shirt indicate how much he’s sweating from it. Probably also a little from just how warm you’d both ended up.

Moaning out in response, you tip your head back against the cool wood of your desk and let your hand do its work. The combination of his cock inside you and your fingers playing on your clit blend together perfectly and you writhe wildly.

“Ah...shit.” His entire body going rigid as he pushes into you as far as he can get. Watching him, you cry out at how beautiful and sexy he looks as he orgasms; his jaw tightly clenched to show off that beautiful line of bone while the tendons in his neck strain. The hand entwined with yours squeezes harder than ever and he seems to just inside you in tiny movements, almost like he’s extending his pleasure without wasting too much effort.

You can feel the subtle twitch of his cock deep within you and the knowledge that he’s orgasming inside you has your fingers swirling on your clit harder and faster than before. Tightening your inner muscles, you relish in the strangled moan Hoseok lets out and the increase of feeling.

Not long after he lets out a final sigh, deeper than anything else, and he strokes his free hand down your thigh. It’s almost an encouraging touch and even though he’s finished, he moves in you with a slow and lazy stroke. The slight wince he has tells you that he’s probably a little overstimulated but he doesn’t complain and you cry out as your whole body tenses up.

Back bowing and head pressing into the desk, you tighten your eyes closed as high pitched whines and breathes escape your throat. Hips rolling in a circular motion, you continue to stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until the sensation becomes too much. Pulling your hand away, you’re surprised when Hoseok grabs at it suddenly.

He slips out of you, his cock rapidly becoming flaccid nows that’s had his fill and you shift at the sensation of liquid that’s slightly thicker than your excitement beginning to leak from you. The knowledge that it’s come from him is surprisingly arousing and you try to push the thought away.

Something not helped by the fact that Hoseok takes the fingers that had been so busy with your clit and licks them clean, groaning out quietly as he finally gets to taste you. It’s probably not the way he imagined doing it, but Merlin, it’s certainly an attractive way.

“That was good,” He finally says, letting your hand drop and you miss the feel of his tongue already. “Better than I’ve ever imagined...and I imagined it a lot.”

He’s flushed from the intense exercise but the bashful look to his eyes tells you that some of that pink tinge is also from his shyness. You can’t help but grin at the fact he’s getting quiet after just fucking you so hard on your desk.

Sitting up slowly, you stretch and enjoy the satisfying feeling of multiple muscles in your body and the overall sense of contentment that washes through you. Reaching forward, you wrap your arms around his neck after he’s tugged his trousers and underwear back up before kissing him gently.

“How flattering, Professor Jung. I feel honoured.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice but you keep it light enough to know that you’re not being mean to him. Instead, you’re pleased by his admission that he’s thought of you sexually. Perhaps you don’t want to know about what his teenage fantasies were but you’ll happily accept his adult fantasies.

It works to make him snort a laugh and shake his head, stroking his hands along your waist.

“And as amazing as the sex was...I’m feeling a little tired and sore from the desk. So let’s take this into my quarters, shall we?” Pushing him, you hop off the desk and let your skirt fall back into place. It’s creased now and there’s likely wet stains on the back alongside what will eventually become semen stains too.

Hoseok doesn’t follow you as you move towards the door leading to your bedroom, causing you to turn and give him an arched brow in question. Opening the door without looking at it, you smile brightly before winking.

“Well? Do you want me to be alone in my bed?” Turning away from him, you quickly pull off your shirt and throw it out of the door for him to see. It’s only seconds before you hear the sound of him following quickly, causing you to smile to yourself.

-

Yawning widely, you stretch out your arms and almost hit Hoseok in the face. Toes brushing against his leg as you do so, he lets out a laugh that’s more movement than sound. The rumble of his chest beneath your cheek is comforting and you sigh deeply in contentment. It had been only half an hour or so since you’d had sex and what was likely only three hours since you’d both fucked the first time.

You had to give Hoseok credit; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Just the thought of the frantic sex on your desk had you heating up in dual embarrassment and desire. Embarrassment because...well it was your desk! In your classroom. How were you ever going to look at the table without remembering what had happened on top of it?

The desire was a more obvious, and expected, emotion though. Experiencing that again would be very welcomed on your behalf and you suspected that Hoseok would be just as open to it.

Nuzzling your head into him, you took in a deep breath to get a concentrated dose of Hoseok mixed with sex. It was a heady scent and you squeeze your thighs, feeling the wetness that was still there. 

Despite the horny monster he’s released, you feel a sense of tired contentment between you both. Hoseok hasn’t said anything since you’d both collapsed onto the bed after a rigorous second round and you hadn’t wanted to interrupt it yet. It was nice to just enjoy the tired aftermath of sex without the pressure of talking anything out.

Even if you knew that you both had to.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Hoseok takes a deep breath that has your head rising.

“I didn’t intend for...well for this. I swear,” He says, his voice a little nervous and you can tell he’s uncertain about how you’re going to respond now the potion has run its course. “I’m sorry for knocking the potion over, it was stupid of me.”

Pushing up onto your elbow, you reach up and place a finger against his lips to stop him from saying anything else. He looks at you, his cheeks adorably full from this angle and his eyes dark while he waits for you to say whatever you’re thinking.

What you’re thinking is that his lips are so soft beneath your fingertip, plush and swollen from the frantic kisses. Before you can think of anything else, you shift forward until you’re kissing him once more, the movement slow enough for him to stop it if he didn’t want to.

He lets you though, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck in support, and opening his mouth to deepen it. A quiet moan leaves your throat as you slant your mouth against his, tilting your head to find the perfect angle and shivering as he slips his tongue into your willing mouth. 

Any hint of a conversation disappears between you both, his free hand running down your naked back in a slow stroke that’s so sensual it has you quivering. But you know that he understands that you’re not annoyed at him; actually the exact opposite.

Pulling away, you lick at your lips and note the unfiltered lust in his eyes as he watches you do so, before smiling at him. Brushing some of his dark hair away from his face, admiring just how handsome he was.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. I was fully aware of myself and wanted it. I already told you that and I meant it. The potion just helped me to get over my inhibitions. Trust me, I was already considering this after the Winter Solstice Ball. I just didn’t know how to get over the hurdle of being nervous about it.” Now it’s his turn to comfort you, his fingertips tracing across your face in a featherlight touch.

It’s almost painfully tender and the sparkling warmth in his eyes tells you that there’s something much deeper there for him. But you don’t push and he doesn’t spill. He’ll tell you when he’s comfortable with it, and you’ll be there to hear it.

Instead, he opens up with an entirely different kind of vulnerability. The confidence he’s shown so far disappears and you note fondly that it makes him look younger. Something he’d probably hate you saying.

You’ve finally figured out why he never likes conversation about the age difference between you both, at least.

“Really? Do you really mean that? I mean, about considering it?” Hoseok sounds awkward, his voice pitching higher than normal at one point and causing him to cough while his cheeks darken. The urge to coo is unbelievable.

“Yes, I mean it. I was a little taken aback when I first came here and I saw how much you’d changed since I’d last seen you. But you became one of my closest friends and the last few weeks has had me looking at you...in a slightly different light. You were...unreal at the ball and it made me realise a lot of things. And the kiss spurred that on, too. I talked with Jisoo and she helped me to see that...you’re not just her little brother. I’d been putting that label on you in an attempt to keep you at arm’s length, but I don’t want that now. I don’t need to, because I’ve accepted that I find you attractive and I would be open to more if you wanted it.” The words fall from your mouth in a rush, taking advantage of the confidence you had to get this out.

“I want it.” You don’t even get to say anything else because Hoseok interrupts you with those three simple words, the syllables fast as his enthusiasm takes over. Snorting quietly, you kiss his cheek affectionately and enjoy it when it pinkens once more.

“Someone’s eager.” Teasing him, you roll onto your back and let out a sigh as you stare up at the blank ceiling. There’s a slight chill in the air, common in such an old castle as Hogwarts, but you feel your nipples pebble from it. Shuddering, you go to tug the blanket over your naked body and Hoseok’s.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a while, so yeah. But we can talk about that more later if you want?” Looking over at him, you smile at the happiness on his face and note how he seems so much lighter than before. The knowledge that you’ve done this to him is a little overwhelming, causing you to let out a sudden breath.

And then you notice that he’s not only happy in the metaphorical sense but also in the physical sense, a prodding against your thigh causing you to peek under the blanket. Sure enough, his well-endowed erection was very prominent against you.

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at Hoseok with a mix of exasperation, amusement and admiration.

“Already? Three times in an evening?” Now Hoseok is the one smirking, the palm of his hand pressing flat against your stomach before slowly creeping down your body. The low lying flame of desire that had settled burns back to life now and you subtly wriggle in your bed, thighs opening as your body tries to get those long fingers where you want them.

“One of the benefits of a younger man,” Wiggling his brows, he grins when you chuckle before pushing at his chest. “If our age difference is ever mentioned again then I want this to be the thing you remember most.”

And with that, he flashes his teeth in a mischievous smile before disappearing under the blanket, ignoring your shriek of laughter at how his fingers tickle. That laughter soon dissolves into a moan when he reaches his destination though and as you grasp his hair tightly, glad that you finally took the plunge and realised what a wonderful man Jung Hoseok is.

[bruh--wtf]

Butterflies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Next

Summary: You're Lily Evans' little sister. She isn't the only witch in the family.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

You were excited to see your favorite sister again. Today was the day that you went with your parents to get Lily from the train station. You'd seen her over the holidays and read her letters, but you missed her.

You saw your sister's bright red hair and ran through the crowd, ignoring your parents protesting behind you. You were only a year younger than Lily, but sometimes everyone treated you like a child.

"Lily!" You call. She look back, a little confused. You jumped infront of her, not minding the boy she was talking to. You wrapped your arms around, making her stumble back a bit. She laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "I missed you so much!" You pull away a little bit to look at her. "Petunia has been a nightmare! She's made friends with all these jerks who of course just must hate me! And-" Your sister cuts you off.

"Slow down, Y/N," she says, chuckling. "Petunia and her friends can wait." You nod, and smile again.

"Anyways, I want to hear about your year. Of course I saw you at Christmas, and I read your letters, but still! I'm sure your friends are much better than hers. Will you have them over during the summer? Do you-" a boy cuts you off.

"How much sweets have you had, kid?" The boy with dark hair and glasses asks. Lily gives him a pointed look. He wasn't the boy Lily had been talking to. The other boy had lighter brown hair and was tall. He was scrawny, gangly. But he looked much nicer. And the boy next to the boy in glances had longer black hair. Then there was the fair haired boy who looked like he didn't very well fit in with the other three.

"I'm not a kid," you say, glaring at the boy. Yes, you were short for your age. But you had grown to hate when people assumed things about you because of it. The boy raises an eyebrow, almost amused.

"Yeah, she's definitely Evans' sister," he says, glancing at Lily who rolled her eyes.

"Y/N, this is James, Sirius, and Peter. And this is my friend Remus," she says. Pointedly not calling the other three her friends. You nodded at the other three and gave the much taller boy a small smile.

"Nice to meet you," you say. He nods in agreement, clearly amused with the situation.

"You too," he says. You smile a little more and your parents walk over. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, and his other hand fell on Lily's.

"Come on you two, lets get home." Lily nods, smiling at Remus.

"I'll see you around, Remus," she says. He nods, smiling at her. Youu turn to your father and walk back with him.

Lily had introduced you to a few of her other friends from school over the summer. Aparently Remus lives in the 'muggle' world. That's what she said at least. But they didn't actually visit eachother. She mainly hung out with Severus. You didn't really like him, but he was Lily's bestfriend.

"Lily! An owl!" You call up the stairs as an owl stops by the kitchen window. You smile at it, and put some food beside it, and take the two envelopes from it's mouth. It eats the food as you turn to Lily who ran in. She smiled and took the letters from your hand.

She looked a little confused and turned the letters over. Her eyes widened and she looked up at you.

"What?" You ask. She hands you one of the envelopes. You see your name on the back of it. Your eyes widened as well, and you and Lily made eye contact. After a minute she grinned and embraced you.

"Ah! You're a witch!" She says. You stood there in shock. Your parents and Petunia run in. Your parents smiled when they realized, but Petunia scowled.

Just another reason why on the train ride to Hogwarts, you sat with Lily and her friends happily. Mary, Marlene, and Alice all welcomed you warmly. Remus and his friends stopped by to all of you. They looked surprised to see you, Remus was the first to smile.

"Hey, Y/N, nice to see you again," he says. You smile back and nod.

"You too," you say. He chuckles slightly, realizing that's what he said to you when you initially met. Sirius pushes past his friend.

"Huh, didn't think we'd be lucky enough to get two Evans girls with us this year," he says. Lily gives him a sharp, disapproving look. You however, were a little amused. James looked down the hall and chuckled.

"Lets go, Sirius. Snivellus is coming," he says, smirking. You were a little confused.

"His name is Severus, Potter," Lily says. You realized who the nickname was for and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. Lily gave you a disapproving look, and you pressed your lips together. Trying to hide your smile. It didn't go very well. The boys all smiled at you.

"I like her," Sirius says. You smiled slightly.

"Yeah, me too," James says. Your smile widened slightly.

You were sorted into Gryffindor that night. Lily was very happy for you. You had friends from all houses, but mainly from your own. And the boys seemed to like you. James plopped himself down next to you.

"Hello," he says, smiling. You don't look up from your paper. You were still working on your essay for transfiguration. Remus sat down on your other side, and Sirius sat down on the floor inbetween you and James. His back was against the couch.

"Oh no, boys, we've lost her," Sirius says.

"She's lost, we'll never get her back," James adds, sighing. You turn your head and glare at the two of them. Their eyes widen, almost with fear. You shifted your gaze back to your paper. You'd procrastinated and needed to get the essay done tonight. Remus leaned forward looking over your shoulder. He chuckles slightly and looks back at his friends.

"We haven't lost her," he says. You glare at him, he still looked amused. You reach over and pushed his face back, and he leans back on the couch. His friends try to stifle their laughs, as you look back at your paper.

"Definitely not," Sirius says. You didn't even look away from your paper this time and just slapped the back of his head.

"I say she needs a break," James says. You flip him off over your shoulder, again not looking. You saw him and Sirius exchange a look out of your peripheral vision.

"Guys, just let her get it done," Remus says, you could hear him rolling his eyes.

"She'll blow up if she stresses any more right now," James says.

"I'll blow up if you keep talking, you twat," you say to him. Him and Sirius exchange a look again. This time they nod. They quickly stand up, going towards the boy's staircase. You sigh, trying to just finish your paper. Remus leans forward.

"Do you want help?" He asks, more gently than before. You glance at him and shake your head.

"I'm fine. I'm almost done anyways." He nods, sitting back. He didn't get up or walk away. He just waited for you to be done. Silently. He even opened a book to read while you worked.

In your second year, you'd basically become the Mauraders adopted sister. At least James and Sirius. They treated you like you were their sister and not Lily's.

They were allowed to start going to Hogsmeade, but you had to wait another year.

Sirius was starting his flirting ways.

James had officially started trying to get your sister to go out with him.

Peter was just following their lead.

And Remus sat back, watching their idiocy unfold. You look at Remus, who was sitting beside you on the couch. You knit your eyebrows together. The other three boys were probably somewhere in the castle causing some kind of mayhem. Remus looked up from his book, feeling you looking at him.

"What?" He asks. You turn on the couch.

"Why aren't you with the others right now?" You ask. He seems a little confused by your question.

"I don't know. I just felt like staying here," he says, shrugging and looking back down at his book.

"Then why aren't you like them?" You ask. He chuckles, looking back up at you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, looking amused.

"Like Sirius and James. They've been trying to set you up all year and you couldn't be less interested. Why is that?" You ask. He seems to think about it again. He shrugs again.

"I don't know. I don't like the girls they think I will, I guess," he says.

"Sure, but you don't even try to find a girl that you will like?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He closes his book, keeping one finger in it as a book mark. He gives you a questioning look.

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer me, I'll answer you," you say just as quickly as he'd finished. He sighs, leaning further into the couch, getting more comfortable. You raise an eyebrow when he pauses.

"I think we're to young," he says after a second. You could tell he wasn't telling the full truth. Maybe that was part of it, but it definitely wasn't all of it. You knit your brows together, trying to think of his reasoning. You just didn't get it.

So you just turn back to your homework. "Hey, you said you'd tell me," he says. You glance at him.

"Guess I'm just curious," you say. He clearly doesn't believe you. He won't give you a full answer? He won't get one either.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - A Corpse, Cake, and a Cuppa (Rated NC17)

Summary: Aziraphale is Death and Crowley is the serial killer who keeps murdering to catch a glimpse of the ethereal being he fell in love with. (1714 words)

Notes: Written for the above Halloween prompt from @new-endings/M.A.D.#8943. Human Crowley au. It’s kind of gory, I’m not going to lie.

Read on AO3.

“Jesus Christmas!" Aziraphale yelps, tiptoeing through the thick pool of red coagulating on the concrete. Threads of it cling to the soles of his shoes when he lifts his feet as if trying to drag him down. Aziraphale has seen a great deal of blood in his time. None of it has been pretty. But this is especially gruesome.

He wonders if that’s for his benefit.

"Look at... look at this! Look at all the… !” Aziraphale takes a pause and breathes in deep, pressing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to his forehead. Tension causes a vein to distend and throb - quite the feat since, as a non-human entity, he shouldn't be able to experience this kind of pain. Or so he thought. In the thousands of years he's roamed earth reaping souls, he's finally found the one mortal who can give him what humans call a migraine. And he doesn't like it. Not one bit. “Could you please just… stop already?"

Crowley grins, thrilled giddy by the arrival of his intended audience. “No,” he replies, shoving the slicked head of his filthy ax deeper into the severed spine of the fresh corpse at his feet.

Aziraphale grimaces as the blade lands with a resounding slap. 

That ax of Crowley's gets on every one of Aziraphale's nerves. It's effective for its purpose but positively unsanitary. It makes his skin crawl every time he sees it.

Crowley lifts it slowly, eyes Aziraphale menacingly.

Eyes his nice, clean coat, Aziraphale realizes.

“Crowley!” he warns, putting both hands up in defense. “Don't you dare... !”

But Crowley doesn't let him finish, hoisting his ax higher with part of the dead man's torso attached. He doesn't need to do anything after that. The torso falls from the blade and splashes down in the pool, accomplishing what Crowley set out to do.

“Holy... GAH!” Aziraphale leaps back to avoid the spray. He frowns at his clothes when he sees he wasn't quick enough. "Look what you've done! You’ve made a mess of my coat!”

“Improved it, I’d say,” Crowley snarks. “Given it a pop of color.”

“I've had this coat for ages and hadn't collected a single stain! Not one! And look at your shoes! Ruined!" He gazes down at Crowley's feet in despair. "I actually liked that pair.”

“Really?" Crowley tilts his head, batting his eyes innocently. "You didn't tell me that.”

“Yes, well... " Aziraphale busies himself fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. Praying he’s swift enough to save the fabric, he pats at the specks on his sleeve "... it’s not my place to tell a homicidal maniac that he looks fetching in snakeskin, is it?”

Crowley pouts, his lower lip jutting out, making him look comically childish despite the streaks of blood running down his cheeks. 

Aziraphale’s brows pull together. He glances around, trying to work out what's wrong. "What? What is it?"

"You're being mean."

"How am I being mean?"

"You're calling me names."

"Accurate ones, yes."

"You sound disappointed."

"You think so!?"

“B-but... but why? I took your advice!" Crowley argues. "I changed me m.o.!”

“I didn’t give you advice! I said you should stop killing innocent people!”

“I did! This guy?" Crowley plants the heel of his sopping shoe into the dead man's crooked neck for emphasis. "He weren’t innocent! He was a serial killer, too! He just happened to be shite at it!”

"I can see that." Aziraphale peers into the vacant eyes of the man on the ground, spirit buzzing beneath his skin, waiting to be reaped. But Aziraphale is in no rush. In the choice between filling out paperwork and shooting the shite with Crowley, surprisingly, he chooses Crowley. 

Or maybe not so surprising, Aziraphale muses, biting his lower lip and indulging in a private chuckle. He rolls his eyes in disgust at himself right after. What are you doing? Stop that!

"Besides, I'm doin' you a solid!" 

Aziraphale scoffs, snapping back to his senses. "How do you figure?"

"You're Death, ain't ya? I'm keeping you in business!"

"I don't know if you've read the papers lately, dear boy, but humans are dropping like flies thanks to their own stubbornness and stupidity. You're slap in the middle of one of the worst pandemics in history, but instead of doing what you can to stay safe, you lot spend your time arguing over petty b.s.! I won't wear a mask! It's against my rights! I'm not taking the vaccine! It'll make me sterile! There is no disease! It's all a big conspiracy! Meanwhile, in the states, some orange lunatic has everyone drinking bleach! Believe me, I hardly need your help doing my job!" 

“Oi! Don’t lump me in with those prats!”

“Why not? You’re not wearing a mask, I see.”

“Don’t have to. I got my shot. And I keep me distance.”

“But you’re covered in blood! Did that man you dismembered have the virus!? You don’t know!” Aziraphale cringes at words that sound far more like concern than scolding. Which he should be doing. Scolding and ridiculing, and possibly calling the police.

But he won’t.

If Crowley were thrown in prison, it would be harder for Aziraphale to find an excuse to see him. Aziraphale has yet to decide if that’s something he wants, but either way, he’d prefer it not be at the expense of another life.

"Fine. Whatever. If that's the way you feel about it... " Crowley grumbles, letting what remains of that statement die as embarrassment rises to his cheeks, settling beneath the red already there. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away. 

Just like a child, Aziraphale thinks. 

And as with a child, Aziraphale should have nipped this in the bud much, much earlier - like when Crowley realized that he could summon Aziraphale whenever he wanted by upping the frequency of his murderous antics. 

This, to date, is his twenty-seventh kill.

Aziraphale doesn't know how Crowley spotted him. He's pretty adept at avoiding human detection. But after victim number eight, Aziraphale turned around, scythe in hand, and there he stood: tall, gangly, bizarrely besotted, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. Aziraphale thought Crowley was a run-of-the-mill psychopath looking for attention, seeing Aziraphale as a hapless dolt to play cat-and-mouse with, not knowing for one second who he was dealing with.

Not only did Crowley know exactly who Aziraphale was, but he had taken a considerable shine to him.

Aziraphale humored the man when their paths crossed so he could get on with his work, never for one minute considering the consequences. Thinking back on their past interactions, Aziraphale can pick out the hints Crowley had been dropping.

Aziraphale played right into them, and he could kick himself over it.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Aziraphale quipped dryly after Crowley had beheaded some poor, down-on-his-luck fool. "I'm going to start thinking that you have a thing for me."

"Finally!" Crowley tossed his arms in the air. "At this rate, I was going to have to murder half of London and spell out the words ’Will you go out with me?’ with their bodies. Do you know how time-consuming that would have been?"

Aziraphale had written that comment off as a morbid attempt at humor. 

Now he feels like an imbecile.

He’s going to get an earful from Gabriel if he ever gets wind of this. Aziraphale has been able to cover up the increase in London deaths by blaming the pandemic. But once people get their acts together and things calm down, he’ll have to come clean.

There’s a serial killer roaming the streets that has a serious crush on him.

Aziraphale lets out a heavy sigh as he comes to a decision.

A bad decision.

He's going to regret this. He knows he's going to regret this. 

But will he really though?

Aziraphale looks Crowley over, still moping with his nose in the air. He examines him at depth - his sharp features, his debonair style (hiding beneath a litre of blood), his devil-may-care attitude, his rowdy sense of humor. If he were another angel, or even a demon, Aziraphale would have asked him out already, body count or no. 

So what is he waiting for?

It’s not entirely unheard of, an angel dating outside their dominion. And as for the moral issues of dating a murderer, well, Aziraphale is an angel. He has a responsibility to bring sinners to the light, help them see the truth. That can be done anywhere, not just in church - on a street corner, in a diner…

Back at his flat.

Besides, he and Crowley have a lot more in common than Aziraphale did with his last paramour, an angel he had dallied with solely for the fact that he was guardian of comestibles.

It seemed like a match made in Heaven, so to speak.

Far from it.

“Look - if I let you take me out for coffee, will you stop the gratuitous bloodshed?”

Crowley all but gasps when that question leaves Aziraphale’s mouth, the grin growing on his face transforming, becoming less maniacal and more… normal if that makes any sense. "One cup of coffee. That's all I ask."

"Then come along. Here… “ Aziraphale snaps his fingers, cleaning Crowley thoroughly before he takes his arm. “If you're good, I'll let you buy me a slice of cake.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m a very slow eater. And I figure the longer I stay with you, the more I can keep an eye on you."

“Deal. But, you know," Crowley starts, his tone so filled with teasing he’s on the verge of giggles, "if you, say, spent the night at my flat, you could keep an eye on me for hours. Think of all the people I wouldn’t be able to kill.”

Aziraphale smirks, amused that they both had a semblance of the same idea. “You don’t say?”

“I do.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“More so than you bartering human lives against a cuppa and cake?”

Aziraphale shrugs, but he doesn't relinquish Crowley's arm. He does, however, relieve him of his ax so he doesn’t get any ideas along the way. “Fair point.”