#muggle outing

[hoomandoescosplay]

Photo Booth | Albus Potter x Scorpius Malfoy Oneshot

Prompt idea from @blue--ingenue

Scorpius is practically pressed against a shop window, peering at the different types of cameras on display. Albus has noticed how fascinated Scorpius got whenever they passed by a technology shop.

“This is… incredible.” Scorpius begins, eyes wide. “These things are all so cool. Cameras, phones, computers… these muggle inventions are incredible”

Albus just chuckles at his reaction. “I’m surprised you're so into these cameras considering ours are magical.”

“Precisely - I’ve been using magical cameras ever since I was little. I have no idea how these could possibly work.” He pointed at the display of photos near the window. “I’m dying to know how they produce pictures without magic! I feel like we should go inside!”

Albus laughs and nods, letting Scorpius pull him into the shop. It’s small and a bit cramped, but packed with electronics and little gadgets. Scorpius looks around like a kid in a candy shop, immediately heading to the section with cameras.

Albus follows him to the camera section and begins inspecting a few of the cameras on display, fascinated by the technology. “This is insane.” He mutters, adjusting a few of the settings to see how they work.

“I know.” Albus says, smiling. He looks over at Scorpius who’s fiddling with the settings, looking concentrated. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find his boyfriend's fascination with cameras adorable.

Albus watches as Scorpius continues to examine the cameras, feeling a fondness in his chest. He could happily stand here and watch him play with the cameras for hours.

Scorpius picked up another one of the cameras, messing with its settings as well. He suddenly turned it and pointed it at Albus. “Smile!”

Albus blinks for a moment as he processes Scorpius’s words before giving him a small smile. As soon as he smiles, Scorpius takes a picture of him. He grins triumphantly as he looks at the photo that he had just taken.

Albus leans in closer to look at the photo as well. The photo shows Albus smiling directly at the camera, looking a little caught off guard by the sudden picture. “See? You look handsome even when not prepared for a picture.” Scorpius teased.

Albus rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning pink from the compliment. “You just took a picture of me without warning, of course I didn’t look prepared.” He smirked.

“I gave you a warning by saying the word smile.” Scorpius continues to tease with that contagious grin of his. Albus rolled his eyes again, still blushing a little. “That hardly counts as a warning in advance, you git.” He nudged Scorpius playfully.

As they continue with their bantering back and forth one of the employees makes their way over to the two. “Do you need help with anything?”

Albus and Scorpius both turn to face the employee, caught off guard by the sudden interruption. They look at each other, a little stunned, before Albus gathers himself enough to speak. “No, we’re just browsing,” he says with a polite smile.

“Actually,” Albus says before the employee walks off. “We’ll take this camera.” He points to the camera in Scorpius’s hands.

Scorpius looked down at the camera in his hands, surprised by Albus’s sudden decision to buy it. “Really?” he asked, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

Albus nods. “You like that one right? If you want a different one that’s fine too.” He begins to ramble making sure Scorpius didn’t want a different camera.

Scorpius shakes his head, stopping Albus’s rambling. “No, no. I do really like this one. “A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

A smile returns on Albus’s face as he takes the camera from Scorpius’s hands to give it to the employee.

“Let me get the box for this and I’ll meet you back at the register.” the employee says kindly as they begin to walk off.

Albus and Scorpius nod and begin walking towards the register to wait. As they’re waiting, Scorpius nudges Albus with his elbow. “You didn’t have to buy this, y’know. You didn’t have to buy anything.”

“I know but I wanted to.” Albus shrugged. Scorpius smiles at that and reaches out to link his hand with Albus’s.

While waiting Albus notices something out of the corner of his eye taking a mental note of it as the employee returns with the camera just then and starts ringing up their purchase.

Scorpius watches as the employee rings up the purchase, barely able to conceal the excitement on his face as he thought about the camera that Albus had bought for him.

A smile forms on Albus’s face at Scorpius’s excitement. He’s always so much more smiley whenever Scorpius is around.

The employee finishes ringing up the purchase and tells them their total. Albus quickly pulls out his wallet to pay them. He can feel Scorpius practically shaking with excitement next to him, making his own smile grow.

Once the transaction is complete, Albus turns to Scorpius and holds out the bag to him. “Here you go. It’s all yours now.”

Scorpius takes the bag carefully, almost as if he feared that the camera inside was going to explode, and pulls it close to his body, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you,” he says, his gratitude evident in his voice. “Now come on I saw something I think will really get those wheels in your mind turning.” Albus says pulling him deeper into the store.

Albus’s vague statement piques Scorpius’s curiosity, and he lets himself be pulled deeper into the store. They quickly find themselves in front of a photo booth and Albus smiles excitedly at him.

Scorpius looks at the photo booth and then turns his gaze to Albus, a mixture of curiosity and excitement on his face.

“A photo booth?” He raised an eyebrow at Albus, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “If you think cameras are interesting just wait and see how this works.” Albus grins.

Scorpius’s curiosity was now fully piqued. “How does it work?” he asks, walking closer to the photo booth and examining it.

Albus lightly pushes him into the booth before following right behind. “Best way to learn is to watch.”

Scorpius stumbles into the booth, surprised by the sudden push, and then turns to watch as Albus closes the curtain behind them and joins him inside the cramped space.

Albus fishes out some spare coins from his pocket and inserts them into the machine. “Okay so there will be a countdown on this screen so make sure you pose before the countdown ends.”

As he inserts the last coin he says one last thing. “I think this machine takes four photos.” Scorpius listened intently as Albus explained to him how the photo booth works. His face lit up at the information, eager to try it out.

“Four photos, got it,” he repeated, nodding his head in understanding. The machine lights up and the boys blink from the extra sudden lights before the countdown appears.

As the countdown appeared on screen, Scorpius felt a sudden sense of urgency. “Albus! We have to make four different poses!” he whispers urgently, slightly panicked by the time limit.

Albus chuckled as he saw Scorpius’s panicked expression. “Relax, Scorp. We have enough time to make four different poses.”

3…

Scorpius places his bag in front of their feet before standing back up.

2…

He glances at Albus as they still aren’t in a pose. His eyes dart around as he tries to think of a pose for them to do.

1…

Scorpius throws himself into Albus as he tightly hugs him. That’s the only thing Scorpius could think of as the countdown was stressing him out.

Albus almost stumbles backwards from the force of Scorpius’s unexpected hug, but he quickly steadies himself and hugs Scorpius back. He grins as he looks down at his boyfriend, thinking that the panicked hug was adorable.

As they sway in the hug and finally get their balance back they turn to face the camera and see in bold letters ‘Thank You! Please collect your photos down below.’

“We’re done already?” Albus asks, surprise evident in his voice. Scorpius grabs the photo card that the machine printed and can’t help but laugh.

As they both look at the photos Albus joins in on the laughing. All four photos were of their singular hug. Each photo was slightly different due to the force Scorpius put behind the hug.

The pictures were all slightly blurry, but captured their hug in various stages. In the first photo, they were both off-balance and stumbling backwards.

In the second, they were just managing to regain their balance. The third picture showed them standing still in a hug, and the final photo captured them looking at each other with such adoration in their eyes.

The pictures were all so candid, so real, and Albus couldn’t help but think that they were perfect. He looked over at Scorpius with a smile, seeing the same adoration in his eyes as in the final photo.

[choccy-milky]

Babes you got my foaming at the mouth every time you post or update! This new chapter was so precious!!

Modern AU where the only thing that’s different was instead of an illustration of Sherlock Holmes, it’s a picture of Banana Pumpkinpatch

GIRL THE WAY I GOOGLED "BANANA PUMPKINPATCH CHARACTER" BEFORE REALIZING YOU MEANT BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH LMFAOOO 😭😭😭 but aww THANK YOU💖and this is amazing i had to draw it as soon as u sent it, i love that cloras love for sherlock holmes also works in a modern au setting. CLORAS LOVE FOR SHERLOCK IS ETERNAL

(and yes seb would read/watch it bc of her)

[ariddle-diddle]

The Ring, The Riddles, and The Stolen Wand.

Why should they live, if they hate him anyway?

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Karaoke Night | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Words: ~9,000

Tags: Modern AU, Post Hogwarts, Fluff, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Drama, Romance, Jealousy and Longing, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Muggle Born MC

Sebastian Sallow usually liked Muggle London. The chaos of it—the noise, the lights, the odd little shops tucked between tall, mismatched buildings—he found it exhilarating. But more than that, he liked it because you were always the one to bring him here. Whether it was to visit your parents, browse the little Muggle bookstores you loved, or grab takeaway from that noodle place near King’s Cross, London had become a kind of shared escape for the two of you.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he hated Muggle London. And it wasn’t because of the cold drizzle soaking through his jacket, or the fact that the group hadn’t had enough time to properly pregame at Imelda’s flat before you all headed out. No, it was because of Ethan.

Ethan, with his perfectly styled blond hair and easy smile, who walked beside you like he belonged there, like he belonged with you. His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd, and you didn’t seem to mind one bit. You’d been laughing at his jokes all night, the sound light and warm in a way that made Sebastian’s chest ache.

“Sebastian, keep up,” Ominis said beside him, tapping his cane lightly against the pavement. His wand, charmed into the cane for moments like this, was concealed, allowing him to navigate the bustling streets with ease.

Sebastian shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and quickened his pace. “I’m coming.”

“You’re sulking,” Ominis said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’ve been glaring daggers at the back of Ethan’s head since we left Imelda's.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth and said nothing. Ominis didn’t press further, though Sebastian could feel his knowing silence like a weight on his shoulders. Ominis knew him too well, had always been able to read him like a book—one he’d long since memorized. He probably knew exactly what Sebastian was thinking: that he’d been in love with you for nearly ten years and hadn’t said a damn thing about it.

It had started back at Hogwarts, back when you were all stupid teenagers and he was still arrogant enough to think he had all the time in the world to tell you. There had been moments—so many moments—when he could have said something, when he’d wanted to say something. But there had always been an excuse, a reason to hold back.

And now? Now he was 25, standing on a Muggle street corner, watching you laugh at some joke your new boyfriend had made, and wondering how the hell he’d let things get to this point.

“This is it!” you announced, stopping in front of a neon-lit doorway. The sign above it blinked in garish, colorful letters: STARLIGHT KARAOKE.

Sebastian stared at it, unimpressed. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of karaoke—he was buzzed enough to find it amusing—but he’d find it far more exciting had your boyfriend not been invited.

“This looks like a disaster waiting to happen,” Imelda muttered, crossing her arms.

“Oh, come on,” you said with a grin, tugging lightly at her sleeve. “It’ll be fun!”

“Fun for you, maybe,” she replied. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yet,” Garreth chimed in, practically vibrating with excitement as he scanned the doorway. “You’re not drunk enough yet. I’ll fix that.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, hanging back as the group filed inside. Ethan leaned down to murmur something to you, and you laughed, your smile softening in a way that made Sebastian’s jaw tighten.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Ominis said under his breath, brushing past him toward the entrance.

Sebastian huffed out a humorless laugh. “When do I ever do anything stupid?”

Ominis turned his head just enough to aim a smirk in Sebastian’s direction. “Shall I list the times chronologically or alphabetically?”

Before Sebastian could respond, you turned back to him, holding the door open with an expectant look. “Coming, Sebastian?”

He forced a smile and nodded, stepping inside. The bar was just as loud and chaotic as he’d expected, with bright lights, thumping music, and a stage at the far end of the room.

“Brilliant!” Garreth exclaimed, practically bouncing on his heels. “I’m definitely getting up there.”

Imelda groaned as she slid into a booth near the back. “You would.”

Sebastian lingered by the door, his gaze drifting back to you and Ethan. The two of you were already making your way to the bar, his hand still resting on your back like he had every right to touch you. Sebastian clenched his fists in his pockets, his irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

This was going to be a very, very long night.

Sebastian trudged toward the booth, reluctantly sliding into the seat beside Ominis and across from Imelda, who had already flagged down a server to order appetizers for the group.

Ominis tapped his fingers against the table, his cane resting neatly by his side. “For fuck's sake, stop brooding,” he said quietly, just loud enough for Sebastian to hear over the music.

“I'm not,” Sebastian muttered, though the way he slouched against the booth’s backrest betrayed him.

“Look, I’m all for theatrics, but if you don’t at least try to enjoy yourself, she’ll notice. And you know she hates that.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Ominis was right, of course. You would notice, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel guilty for dragging him out. He could practically hear you apologizing now, your brows furrowed with concern as you said something like, “I didn't realize you were so against karaoke! We could have done something else, Seb. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

It wasn’t your fault—not really. You weren’t the one ruining his night. Ethan was.

The guy was just so… perfect. Too perfect. He didn’t stumble over his words or let his temper get the better of him. He didn’t carry the weight of a shattered family, or the guilt of decisions made long ago that still haunted Sebastian when the nights grew too quiet. Ethan wasn’t rough around the edges, didn’t have cracks threatening to split him open. He didn’t carry around ten years of unresolved feelings and countless missed chances.

Ethan was easy. Exactly the kind of guy you deserved.

Sebastian hated him for it.

The sound of Garreth’s laughter drew Sebastian’s attention to the bar, where you and Ethan were chatting with the bartender. Garreth had joined you, and from the way he was gesturing animatedly, he'd already launched into some story that had the bartender rolling their eyes. You stood beside him, leaning slightly against the counter, your body turned just enough for Sebastian to take in the full effect of what you were wearing. And Merlin, you weren’t making this night any easier for him.

Your outfit was nothing like what you used to wear back at Hogwarts—the plain uniforms, the cozy sweaters, the casual, practical clothes you’d thrown on for lazy weekends in Hogsmeade. No, this was something else entirely. The deep green satin of your dress clung to you, hugging the curves he’d tried not to notice for years but failed miserably at ignoring. The hem barely brushed mid-thigh, showing off your smooth legs, and the neckline dipped just low enough to tease him with a view of soft skin that practically begged to be touched.

Far too low, Sebastian thought bitterly, though he didn’t miss the way his mouth went dry.

You looked nothing like the teenage girl he’d grown up with. You were a woman now, and you looked like it. Confident, gorgeous, utterly captivating—and, worst of all, completely unattainable.

Sebastian’s hands itched with the memory of his fantasies, the ones that haunted him more often than he cared to admit. He’d imagined, countless times, what it would feel like to touch you. To rest his hands on your waist and feel the warmth of your skin through thin fabric. To let his palms skim the curve of your hips, his fingers pressing into soft flesh, guiding you closer to him. He’d thought about the weight of your thighs in his hands, imagined them wrapped around him, imagined how easily he could lose himself in the way you felt.

And your face—Merlin help him, your face. You were laughing at something Ethan said, your lips pulling into that smile that had always made him feel like the ground wasn’t quite steady beneath his feet. He didn’t think he’d ever get over how effortlessly beautiful you were, the way your lashes framed your eyes, how your cheeks dimpled slightly when you laughed.

Long gone was the girl who used to sit cross-legged on the Undercroft floor, teasing him mercilessly about his hair or arguing with him over duelling strategies. And as much as he missed those simpler days, a darker, more selfish part of him didn’t want to go back. Not when this was the woman you’d grown into.

“Stop staring, you’re going to set her on fire,” Ominis drawled beside him, pulling.

“I’m not staring,” Sebastian muttered, dragging his gaze away with a scowl. He wrapped his fingers tightly around his drink, the glass cool against his flushed skin. “I’m… people-watching.”

Ominis snorted softly. “If by ‘people-watching,’ you mean devouring her with your eyes, then yes, you’re doing a fine job of it.”

For a fleeting moment, Sebastian considered reaching over, grabbing Ominis’s cane, and snapping it clean in half. He wouldn’t, of course—Ominis could hex him into oblivion without it—but the thought was tempting. Maybe if Ominis couldn’t use his bloody wand to analyze Sebastian’s every move, he wouldn’t feel so exposed.

But before he could dwell on it, Garreth appeared, weaving through the crowded bar with a tray stacked precariously high with pints and cocktails. His grin was wide, and his balance was questionable at best.

"Guess who just got free drinks!” he announced proudly. “Your girl is magic, Sebastian,” he added with a wink, nodding toward you at the bar.

Sebastian’s stomach twisted at the word your. You weren't his. Not really.

Sebastian reached for one of the drinks Garreth set down—something dark and fizzy that looked like rum and coke. He didn’t care what it was as long as it did the job. Without hesitation, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a long, greedy sip. The burn of the rum was sharp and immediate, but it was better than the heat already clawing at his chest.

Garreth let out a laugh as he slid into the booth beside Imelda. “Alright, Sallow’s setting the pace! Guess that means we’re all drinking fast tonight.”

Imelda rolled her eyes but reached for her own drink anyway. “If I’m getting through this ridiculous evening, I’m going to need it.”

Poppy and Natty followed suit, each grabbing a glass from the tray. Ominis, however, sat perfectly still beside Sebastian, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

“Pacing yourself, are you?” Ominis asked dryly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow in his direction.

Sebastian ignored him. This drink, whatever it was, wasn’t strong enough—not nearly—but it would have to do. He drained the rest of the glass in one go, slamming it back onto the table with more force than necessary.

Before Ominis could needle him further, you returned to the booth, folder in hand, your heels clicking softly against the floor. His gaze flickered to you automatically, his chest tightening at the sight of you so close.

“I’ve got the song list!” you announced brightly, holding it up like some kind of trophy. The folder was thick, filled to the brim with laminated pages, and your excitement was palpable. You slid into the booth beside Ethan, spreading it out on the table for everyone to see.

“Blimey,” Garreth said, peering over your shoulder. “This place has everything. Oh—there’s Queen! I’m doing Queen.”

“You’re going to butcher Queen,” Imelda said flatly, taking another sip of her drink.

“Oi, have a little faith,” Garreth shot back with a grin.

Sebastian’s eyes flicked to the folder, then back to you. Your enthusiasm was infectious—you always had a way of lighting up a room, of pulling people into your orbit without even trying. He wanted to lean in closer, to let himself get lost in the way your voice lifted with excitement as you pointed out song choices to the others. But the weight of Ethan’s arm draped casually over your shoulder was a bitter reminder that he couldn’t.

“What about you, Seb?” you asked suddenly, your voice breaking through his thoughts. You were looking at him now, your hazel eyes warm and inviting, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

“What about me?” he replied.

“What are you going to sing?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him.

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hadn’t even considered getting up to sing, much less what he would sing.

On a regular night, Sebastian would have been all over this. He lived for the spotlight, and he wasn’t shy about it. Sebastian enjoyed attention—the rush of it, the way people’s eyes followed him, the laughter and cheers his antics often earned. He’d have already grabbed the song list, picked something bold and ridiculous, and made sure he was the first one on stage.

But tonight? Tonight, he was in no mood for it.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, shrugging as he reached for another drink from the tray.

You laughed softly, the sound cutting through the tension in his chest. “You? Think about it? Since when are you not impulsive?”

He smirked faintly, lifting the glass to his lips. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

You gave him a curious glance at his comment, your brow furrowing slightly as if you didn’t quite believe him. But after a moment, you let it go, smiling politely before turning your attention back to the song list. You leaned into Ethan’s side, your shoulder brushing his as you chatted animatedly with the girls about potential song choices.

Sebastian tried not to watch, but it was impossible. The way you laughed, your lips parting just enough to reveal the glint of your teeth; the way your eyes sparkled when you teased Poppy for her love of ‘80s Muggle pop music; the way you absentmindedly brushed your fingers against Ethan’s arm.

The bitter knot in Sebastian’s stomach tightened. He took another long drink—something golden and sweet this time—and let the burn settle in his chest.

And the drinks kept coming.

Within thirty minutes, Garreth, ever the opportunist when it came to alcohol, had gone up to the bar twice already, returning with rounds of drinks that no one had asked for but everyone ended up drinking. Sebastian couldn’t even remember what his last drink was—something fruity? All he knew was that his current drink, a half-finished tankard of beer, sat sweating on the table as his head swam pleasantly in the growing haze of alcohol.

The lights in the bar dimmed suddenly, and a spotlight flickered to life on the small stage at the far end of the room. The karaoke host, a chipper man in a sequined blazer, stepped into the spotlight, microphone in hand.

“Alright, everyone, welcome to Starlight Karaoke!” he announced, his voice echoing over the speakers. “We’ve got an exciting night ahead, so I hope you’re all ready to sing your hearts out. First up tonight, let’s give a big round of applause for… Garreth!”

The group erupted into cheers and laughter as Garreth shot up from his seat, knocking over an empty pint glass in his enthusiasm. He threw his arms into the air like he’d just won a Quidditch match, grinning ear to ear as he made his way to the stage.

Sebastian smirked, shaking his head at Garreth’s antics. The bloke could barely hold a tune, but he made up for it with sheer enthusiasm.

“Ten Galleons says he butchers it,” Imelda muttered, taking another sip of her drink.

“No bet,” Sebastian replied.

As Garreth took the mic and the opening notes of a Queen song filled the room, Sebastian leaned back in the booth, his gaze drifting back to you. You were clapping along to the beat, laughing as he missed the first note completely but powered through anyway. Your laughter lit up your whole face, and for a moment, Sebastian could almost pretend it was directed at him.

But then Ethan leaned over, whispering something in your ear that made you laugh even harder, and the illusion shattered.

Sebastian drowned his annoyance in another long swig, and barely registered who went up after Garreth, some Muggle woman whose name he didn’t catch. Her voice wasn’t bad—better than Garreth’s, certainly—but he didn’t care enough to pay attention.

He only really came back into focus, if you could call his drunken haze 'focus', when the host returned to the stage multiple singers later, a wide grin on his face as he scanned his clipboard. “Alright, let’s keep the energy going! Up next, we have… Natty!”

The table erupted into cheers as Natty rose from her seat, flashing a brilliant smile as she made her way to the stage.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Poppy said, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

“She'll nail it,” Imelda added, a rare note of enthusiasm in her voice.

The opening notes of an Adele song began to play, and Natty took the mic with effortless poise. From the very first note, her voice was stunning—clear, powerful, and full of emotion. The entire table went wild, clapping and cheering as if they were at a concert instead of a small karaoke bar.

Sebastian applauded along half-heartedly, his head still swimming from the drinks and the knot of frustration that had been sitting in his chest all night. But even he couldn’t deny that Natty was incredible.

When she finished, you were practically glowing with excitement, clapping so hard Sebastian wondered if your hands might bruise. You leaned toward Poppy, saying something he couldn’t hear over the applause, and the two of you laughed, your faces lit up with delight.

“Let’s hear it for Natty, everyone!” the host called, clapping along with the crowd. “What a voice, huh?”

She returned to the table, her cheeks slightly flushed from the attention but her smile as bright as ever.

“That was amazing!” you said, pulling her into a hug as she sat down.

Natty laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

“A bit of fun? You could win awards with that voice,” Garreth said, raising his glass in a toast.

Sebastian muttered something vaguely supportive, but the alcohol was really starting to hit him hard now, leaving his head fuzzy and his thoughts jumbled.

The host returned to the stage, scanning his clipboard again. “Alright, who’s feeling brave? I'm out of volunteers and I know there’s some talent in this room just waiting to shine.”

Without fully thinking it through, Sebastian stood, the sudden motion making the room tilt slightly.

“Seb, what are you doing?” Ominis asked, arching a brow.

Sebastian ignored him, striding toward the stage with a confidence that was only half his own—the rest belonged to the drinks coursing through his veins. He approached the stage, wobbling slightly, and the host beamed at him. “Alright, we’ve got a volunteer! What’s your name, mate?”

“Sebastian,” he slurred.

The host’s grin widened, clearly amused by Sebastian’s slightly unsteady footing and the determined glint in his eyes. “Alright, Sebastian! What are you singing for us tonight?”

Sebastian stepped closer, glancing at the clipboard the host was holding out. The words on the page blurred slightly as he squinted, his finger stabbing down on one at random. “This one."

The host looked down, his smile growing even brighter. “Oh, excellent choice! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Sebastian as he sings Mr. Brightside!”

The room erupted into cheers and scattered applause, though Sebastian’s focus wasn’t on the crowd. His gaze flickered back to your table, where everyone was watching him with varying degrees of amusement and surprise.

You looked a little stunned, your lips parted in a small, disbelieving smile. It was the first time all night that Sebastian felt like he really had your attention, and the knot in his stomach loosened just slightly.

The opening chords of the song began to play, and Sebastian took a deep breath, gripping the mic tightly as he stepped fully into the spotlight. The alcohol coursing through his veins gave him a heady sense of confidence, and he felt his usual self rise to the surface—the version of him that lived for attention, for putting on a show.

He knew he wasn’t a good singer—Merlin, he was awful, really—but that wasn’t the point. It had never been the point. What mattered was committing to the act, selling it with everything he had.

And maybe, just maybe, making you laugh.

The first verse started, and Sebastian threw himself into it with reckless abandon. His voice was off-key from the very first word, but he didn’t care. He strutted across the stage, mic in hand, pointing dramatically at the crowd as he sang, his free hand gesturing wildly to emphasize every line.

The group at your table was losing it. Garreth was practically falling out of his seat with laughter, slapping the table and hollering in encouragement. Imelda was smirking, shaking her head in amused disbelief. Poppy and Natty were clapping along, their smiles wide. Even Ominis, who rarely indulged in public displays of hilarity, was chuckling.

But Sebastian didn’t care about any of that. His eyes flicked back to you, zeroing in on the way you were laughing—your head tilted back, your hand covering your mouth as if you couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. You were beaming, your eyes sparkling under the dim lights, and for a fleeting moment, Sebastian felt like he’d won.

The chorus hit, and Sebastian went all in. He dropped to one knee, his arm outstretched toward your table as he belted out the lyrics, his voice cracking on the high notes. It was ridiculous and over-the-top, but the crowd ate it up, cheering louder as he poured every ounce of his energy into the performance.

By the time the second verse rolled around, Sebastian had abandoned any semblance of shame. He hopped off the stage, weaving through the tables as he sang, pointing at random patrons like he was the lead singer of a sold-out concert. When he reached your table, he paused dramatically, leaning onto the edge of it and locking eyes with you as he sang the next line.

You were laughing so hard now that tears were forming at the corners of your eyes, your shoulders shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Ethan was laughing too, but Sebastian barely noticed him. For this one, fleeting moment, he had you—all of you.

As the song built toward its final chorus, Sebastian turned and ran back to the stage, sliding to his knees just in time for the big finish. His voice cracked gloriously on the last line, but it didn’t matter. The entire bar erupted into applause and cheers as the final notes played, and Sebastian rose unsteadily to his feet, throwing his arms into the air like he’d just won the Triwizard Tournament.

��Give it up for Sebastian, everyone!” the host called, clapping along with the crowd.

The applause roared in Sebastian’s ears, a mix of cheers and laughter that, for a brief moment, felt like triumph. He stood there on the stage, breathing heavily, grinning like an idiot as the adrenaline coursed through him. For a second, he allowed himself to bask in it—the lights, the applause, your laughter ringing in his head.

But then it hit him.

The drinks, all of them—too many to count—rose in his stomach like a tide, the nauseating swirl of alcohol and exertion catching up with him all at once. His grin faltered, replaced by a sharp twist of discomfort in his gut.

He took a shaky step back, gripping the mic stand for support as the room tilted dangerously. The crowd was still cheering, but the sound felt distant now, muffled beneath the rising roar of nausea.

“Alright, let’s give one last round of applause for Sebastian!” the host called, his voice booming over the speakers.

Sebastian managed a half-hearted wave before staggering off the stage, his legs barely cooperating as he darted clumsily between tables. His shoulder clipped the edge of someone’s chair, but he didn’t stop to apologize. He couldn’t. The only thing on his mind was getting outside before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

The cold night air hit him like a slap when he burst through the bar’s doors and into the street. He barely made it a few feet before doubling over, bracing his hands on his knees as he heaved onto the pavement.

For a moment, everything else disappeared—the bar, the laughter, the ache in his chest. All he could focus on was the sharp sting in his throat and the cold bite of the drizzle on his overheated skin.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the sober part of his brain registered how humiliating this was, but thankfully, the alcohol dulled any real sense of shame.

“Sebastian?”

The sound of your voice cut through the haze, soft and concerned, and Sebastian groaned inwardly.

He didn’t turn to look at you, didn’t even straighten up, just waved a hand vaguely in your direction. “Don’t,” he muttered hoarsely.

You ignored him, your heels clicking softly against the pavement as you approached. He heard the faint rustle of fabric as you crouched down beside him, your hand brushing lightly against his back.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your tone gentle but laced with worry.

He let out a laugh, though it came out more like a wheeze. “Do I look okay?”

You let out a small laugh—not mocking, but soft, almost amused.

“Well,” you said lightly, “you did just sing Mr. Brightside like your life depended on it, so I’d say you’re doing better than most.”

Sebastian groaned, letting his head hang lower. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You say that every time,” you teased, your hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back.

The touch made his breath hitch slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to stay out here,” he mumbled after a moment. “Go back inside. Enjoy your night.”

You didn’t move, your hand still steady against him. “I’m not leaving you out here like this,” you said simply. “Besides, you’d do the same for me.”

The sincerity in your voice caught him off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He stayed silent, the cool drizzle calming the nausea as he slowly straightened up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

When he finally turned to look at you, his chest tightened. Your makeup was slightly smudged around your eyes, likely from laughing too hard earlier, and your face had a faint shine from the heat and sweat of the crowded bar. But Merlin, you’d never looked better.

You were watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re a mess,” you said gently, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He laughed weakly "Yeah, well, nothing new there.”

“Come on,” you said, looping your arm through his to steady him. “Let’s get you some water and sit you down before you pass out.”

Sebastian shook his head, resisting the gentle pull of your arm. “I’m not going back in there,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. He wobbled slightly as he straightened, leaning back against the cold brick wall of the bar. “Still nauseous. Don’t want to risk it.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie—his stomach was still a volatile mess—but the thought of returning to that table, to him, was what truly made his chest tighten and his head spin. The way Ethan had leaned into you all night, the way you’d laughed at his every word, every touch, was enough to make Sebastian want to turn around and walk straight into traffic.

You frowned slightly, studying him, but you didn’t press. You never did. That was one of the things about you that always made his chest ache—that quiet patience, that unshakable understanding that gave him space without making him feel abandoned.

“Okay,” you said softly, stepping back but keeping your hand lightly on his arm. “We don’t have to go back in. Let’s find somewhere quieter.”

He blinked at you, caught off guard. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you interrupted gently, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Come on. There’s a bench just around the corner. You can sit, catch your breath, and I’ll find you some water.”

Sebastian hesitated, searching your face as though you might be joking, but there was only sincerity in your eyes. Even after he’d emptied his stomach on the pavement right in front of you, his breath sour with alcohol and probably vomit, you didn’t flinch.

“Fine,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Lead the way.”

You smiled faintly, slipping your arm through his again to steady him as you started walking. The rain had eased to a faint drizzle, the cool mist brushing against his flushed skin as the two of you made your way down the street.

When you reached the bench, tucked under the glow of a streetlamp, you guided him to sit down. He sank onto the wooden slats with a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. You stood for a moment, watching him, before crouching down in front of him, your hands resting lightly on his knees.

“Stay here,” you said softly. “I’ll grab some water. You’ll feel better once you drink something that isn't alcoholic.”

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes flicking to yours. The way you crouched there, so close, your expression calm and steady, made his stomach twist.

He wanted to say something—to thank you, to apologize, to tell you how much it meant to him that you hadn’t just left him there. But the words tangled in his throat, too heavy to form.

You seemed to understand anyway, your lips curling into the faintest of smiles. You gave his knee a small squeeze before straightening up, your heels clicking softly against the pavement as you turned back toward the bar.

Sebastian watched you go, the sound of the door swinging shut behind you leaving him alone with his thoughts. He tilted his head back, letting the drizzle cool his flushed face, and exhaled a slow, shuddering breath.

Even now, as the alcohol dulled the sharper edges of his feelings, one truth remained painfully clear: he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you. And he didn’t know how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise.

The sound of the door opening pulled Sebastian back out of his spiral. You emerged a moment later, a takeout cup of water in one hand and a few paper napkins clutched in the other. Even through his drunken haze, Sebastian could see how the drizzle had soaked through your dress. Your hair clung damply to the sides of your face, and the smudged remnants of your makeup had smeared further down your cheeks, dark streaks underlining your tired but still warm eyes.

You crossed the street toward him, shivering slightly as the night air bit at your damp skin, but your steps didn’t falter.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice low and rough, tinged with guilt.

You shrugged, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. “It’s just water,” you said lightly, holding the cup out to him. “Here. Drink.”

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and the cup in your hand. Then, finally, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he took it from you.

“Thanks,” he murmured, looking down at the cup as though it might offer some kind of answer to the mess in his head.

“You’re welcome.” You sank down onto the bench beside him, shivering slightly but making no move to go back inside. “I told the others you weren’t feeling well. Garreth offered to come check on you, but…” You trailed off, glancing at him with a knowing smile. “I figured you wouldn’t want that.”

Sebastian snorted softly, taking a cautious sip of the water. It was cold and crisp, settling uneasily in his stomach, but he forced himself to take another sip. “Yeah, thanks for sparing me that particular nightmare.”

You laughed quietly, the sound soft and warm despite the chill in the air. “It’s the least I could do.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the rain falling softly around you, the distant hum of the city filling the gaps. Sebastian kept his gaze fixed on the water in his hands, but he was acutely aware of your presence beside him—the faint warmth radiating from your body, the way your damp dress clung to your skin, the quiet steadiness in your breathing.

Sebastian glanced sideways at you. “Why didn’t you sing tonight?” he asked.

You turned your head toward him, blinking in mild surprise at the question. “Oh,” you said, smiling faintly. “I actually put my name in while you were up there.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “You did?”

You nodded, pushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah, but I missed my turn. They called me while I was out here with you.”

Your tone was light, matter-of-fact, and there wasn’t even a hint of annoyance in your voice. You said it like it didn’t bother you at all, like it wasn’t a big deal that you’d given up your moment in the spotlight to sit outside in the rain with him.

But it made Sebastian’s stomach twist.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“Seb,” you interrupted gently, your voice steady. “It’s fine. Really.”

“It’s not fine,” he said, shaking his head. He couldn’t meet your eyes, his gaze dropping back to the cup in his hands. “You were looking forward to it, weren’t you? And I—

“Stop,” you said firmly, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. “There’s always next time.”

Sebastian swallowed the tight knot of affection that rose in his chest and forced a smirk onto his face. “Wise words," he said, his eyes narrowing. "So wise, in fact... are you sure you're drunk?” he said, trying to shift the tone to something lighter.

You laughed. “I'm completely sober, Seb,” you replied, your voice light but matter-of-fact.

Sebastian blinked, his brows furrowing as the words sank in. He hazily tried to piece together the night’s events, though the drinks had turned everything into a fuzzy blur. He couldn’t recall seeing you with a drink, but he’d been too caught up in his own misery to notice much of anything.

“You are?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “Why?”

Your expression faltered, the easy smile you’d worn slipping into something more guarded. You shifted slightly on the bench, turning your gaze away from him to focus on a crack in the pavement. “Just… didn’t feel like drinking tonight,” you said softly, your tone deliberately casual.

But it wasn’t casual—not to Sebastian. He knew you well enough to recognize when you were deflecting, and the way your shoulders tensed told him there was more to it than you were letting on.

He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Nothing happened.”

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, the rational part of his brain—the one that knew you’d been patient with him—telling him to let it go. You’d come out into the rain for him, stayed with him, got water for him. He owed you the same patience in return. But the alcohol coursing through his veins was making his tongue loose, his thoughts bolder, and his emotions louder than they should have been.

“Then why?” he pressed, his voice softer this time, but still insistent. “That's not like you. You're usually trying to compete with me."

You tensed beside him, your shoulders stiffening just enough for him to notice. You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed firmly on the pavement.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmured, but the casual tone you were aiming for fell flat.

“It’s a big deal if you’re lying about it,” he countered, and even as the words left his mouth, he knew he should’ve bitten them back.

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes sharp now, guarded in a way that felt like a knife twisting in his chest. “I’m not lying,” you said, and though your voice was calm, there was a clear edge to it.

Sebastian cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I want to make sure you're okay."

You let out a heavy sigh, your gaze still fixed on the crack in the pavement. It was the kind of sigh that made his chest tighten, like he’d hit on something you’d been trying to bury all night.

“It’s Ethan,” you said quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear.

Sebastian froze, his jaw tightening. That name was like a lit match against dry tinder, and he could already feel the heat rising in his chest.

“What about him?” he asked, trying—and failing—to keep his voice steady.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your damp dress. “It wasn’t a big deal. Last time we went out, he made a… comment.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of comment?”

You let out another sigh, this one more frustrated than anything else, and finally turned to look at him. “He said I… I didn’t realize how many calories were in the drinks I was ordering. That I might want to be more mindful about it next time.”

Sebastian stared at you, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “He what?” he said, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

“Seb—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “No, don’t ‘Seb’ me. What exactly did he say?"

You sighed again, still not looking at him. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just said that maybe I should slow down if I didn’t want to—” You cut yourself off, your voice catching slightly, and shook your head. “It wasn’t meant to be mean. He was trying to be kind about it, I think. And he wasn’t wrong. I’ve put on some weight. Relationship weight or whatever.”

Sebastian froze, his stomach flipping at your words. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if the heat rising in his chest was from the alcohol or the sheer, unfiltered rage he felt boiling beneath the surface.

“Kind?” his laugh was sharp and humorless, his hand running through his hair as he tried to process what he was hearing. “That’s not kind, that’s insulting. That’s manipulative. That’s—”

“Sebastian,” you cut in, your voice firm but quiet. “It’s not that big a deal. Honestly. Maybe he has a point. I mean…” You hesitated, looking away again. “I have gotten a bit, um. Squishy.”

Sebastian stared at you, the shock of your words rooting him to the bench. For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak.

“You’re joking,” he said finally, his voice low and disbelieving.

"...what do you mean? Obviously I have, none of my jeans—”

"No, not that," Sebastian cut you off sharply, his voice firm now, almost trembling with the sheer intensity of his frustration. “I mean you thinking he has a point. I mean you letting him make you feel like there’s anything wrong with you.”

You blinked at him, startled, the guarded tension in your expression faltering. “Seb—”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the cup of water forgotten in his hands. The alcohol in his system buzzed like static in his head, loosening the leash he usually kept on himself. Every ounce of frustration, every unspoken feeling, and every burning thought about you—and him—rose to the surface all at once.

“I hated him the second I met him, you know,” Sebastian started, sitting back up and staring straight ahead. His hands were shaking, and his voice was louder now, frustration bleeding through. “I hated his perfect little smile, his smooth charm, the way he always had something clever to say. But now? Now I have a real reason to hate him. Because he’s clearly delusional.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening slightly in shock, but Sebastian didn’t stop. He couldn’t. It was like he’d opened Pandora’s box, and everything he’d ever wanted to say was spilling out in a flood he couldn’t control.

“Do you even hear yourself?” he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re sitting here, trying to convince me that he has a point—as if there’s anything about you that needs fixing. Relationship weight? Fuck, if that’s what relationship weight looks like, then you should wear it proudly. Because Merlin help me, you—” He gestured to you vaguely, almost wildly. “You look damn good, and I don’t know what’s wrong with him that he can’t see that.”

You froze, staring at him as though you hadn’t heard him correctly. But Sebastian wasn’t done. Not even close.

“You know what? No, screw that. You’re more than that,” he continued, his voice rising. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Do you have any idea what you do to people? What you do to me?" His voice cracked slightly, and he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Everything about you—everything—is perfect. And he… he’s too blind to see it. Too blind to see how lucky he is to have you.”

Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide as you stared at him in stunned silence. The streetlamp above cast a soft glow on your damp skin, your hair still clinging to your face, but to Sebastian, you’d never looked more radiant—or more surprised.

He exhaled sharply, his heart pounding in his chest as the words kept coming. "Do you know how many times I’ve imagined what it would feel like? To touch you?” he leaned back, his voice lowering, raw and trembling with emotion. “Do you even know what it’s like to ache for someone the way I ache for you? To imagine every curve, every inch, every soft part of you like it’s a map I’ve been dying to trace? You have no idea what you’ve done to me. No idea how much I’ve wanted—needed you.”

His breathing was uneven now, his chest rising and falling as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “And it’s not just the way you look, either,” he continued, his voice rising again, his frustration spilling over. “It’s you. The way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you always know exactly what to say to make everything feel okay, even when it’s not. Everything about you was designed to dismantle me, and it has been. For ten. Fucking. Years.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he muttered, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “He never did. Because if he can look at you—you—and make you feel like you’re anything less than perfect, then he’s a fucking idiot. And if I were him... If I were him, you'd never question how much I love you—” Sebastian’s voice caught, suddenly painfully and acutely aware of how much he’d just said.

Fuck.

You were still staring at him, your chest rising and falling as though you couldn’t catch your breath, your expression completely frozen in shock.

Sebastian looked away, his gaze fixed on the pavement. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I shouldn’t—” He broke off, his hands gripping the edge of the bench so tightly his knuckles turned white.

You hadn’t moved, hadn’t even blinked, your lips parted slightly, your breath coming in shallow, uneven waves. The streetlamp’s light cast a soft glow over you, illuminating every detail of your stunned expression.

Sebastian's heart was pounded so hard it felt like it might burst, each second of your silence a knife twisting deeper into his chest. He had ruined it—he knew he had. He had taken the fragile balance of your friendship and shattered it with his drunken, reckless confession.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, raking a shaky hand through his damp hair. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

Still, you didn’t say anything, your gaze locked on his, your expression unreadable. The dread pooled in his stomach, hot and acidic, as he stumbled over his next words. “Just—forget I said anything, okay? Chalk it up to the drinks or—”

But then you moved, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Your hand shot out, cupping his face. His eyes widened, his mind reeling as your thumb brushed lightly against his cheek, wiping away the drizzle that clung to his skin.

“Wha—” he started, but the words never made it out.

Because the next thing he knew, your lips were on his.

It wasn’t tentative or hesitant—it was deliberate, firm, and warm in a way that stole every coherent thought from his mind. The faint taste of cherry chapstick hit him first, followed by the soft press of your mouth against his, and Sebastian froze, his brain short-circuiting.

You were kissing him. You were kissing him.

Holy shit.

It was better than anything he’d ever imagined.

His initial shock melted away, and he responded instinctively, his hands moving on their own as they found your waist. His fingers curled against the damp fabric of your dress, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, as his body surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation of you.

It was messy and uncoordinated—his head was still spinning from the drinks, and he was sure he tasted like regret and bad decisions—but none of it seemed to matter. Not when you were holding his face like he was the only thing that existed, not when your lips were so soft and sweet and utterly addictive, not when you leaned into him like this was exactly where you wanted to be. In fact, Sebastian thought he might actually die from how perfect this moment was.

When you finally pulled back, just slightly, he let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes fluttered open, and he found you staring at him, your cheeks flushed, your lips still parted like you couldn’t quite believe what had just happened either.

“Did that—” he started, his voice hoarse, but he swallowed hard and tried again. “Did that just happen, or am I drunker than I thought?”

You let out a breathy laugh, your thumb brushing against his jaw. “It happened,” you murmured.

Sebastian blinked, his mind still struggling to catch up. “You kissed me,” he said dumbly.

You smiled faintly, your hand still cradling his face. “I did.”

“And you…” He hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not… regretting it?”

Your smile widened just slightly, your gaze warm as you leaned in again, your lips brushing softly against his in a way that made his chest tighten. “Not even a little,” you murmured.

Sebastian exhaled shakily, his hands tightening on your waist. "...You know I just puked my guts out right?"

You laughed, the sound warm and bright, breaking through the tension like sunlight through storm clouds. “I’m painfully aware,” you teased. “But for some reason, I don’t really care.”

Sebastian stared at you, his chest tightening at the way your eyes sparkled, even in the dim light. “You don’t care,” he repeated, his voice still tinged with disbelief.

You shrugged, your smile softening into something more tender. “I figured if you could pour your heart out to me, the least I could do was give you an honest answer.”

“By kissing me,” he said, still dazed, though a crooked grin was slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“By kissing you,” you confirmed, your voice quieter now, almost shy.

Sebastian’s grin widened despite himself, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system. “I didn’t know that was an option,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Because if I’d known, I might’ve poured my heart out a lot sooner.”

You laughed again, the sound soft and light. Your hand was still cradling his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a way that made his pulse race. “Well,” you teased gently, “better late than never, right?”

His chest tightened at the way you were looking at him, your eyes so open, so full of something he’d dared to hope for but never believed he’d see. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Better late than never.”

For a moment, you both just stayed there, the soft rain misting around you, your foreheads resting together as your breaths mingled. It felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, the city noise fading into a distant hum, and Sebastian let himself get lost in the moment—in you.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Even like this. Especially like this.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you tilted your head slightly, your smile turning a little shy. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true,” Sebastian countered, his voice firm but soft.

The sincerity in his voice seemed to catch you off guard, your lips parting slightly as you stared at him. He could see the faint tremble of your bottom lip, the way your eyes flickered like you were trying to process everything at once.

“I love you too,” you admitted suddenly.

Sebastian froze.

The rain pattered softly around you, the city’s distant hum faded to nothing, and those three words echoed in his head like a bomb going off. He blinked, staring at you as if he’d misheard, as if he couldn’t possibly have understood what you’d just said.

“What?” he croaked.

You smiled at him, small and unsure but real, your eyes shining with a vulnerability that made his chest ache. “I said I love you too,” you repeated, your voice steadier this time. “I always have."

The words broke something loose in him—something fragile and aching that had been buried for far too long. A soft, shaky laugh escaped his lips, and before he could stop himself, he kissed you again.

“Ten years,” he murmured against your lips. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted ten fucking years.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm, and it felt like a balm against all the years of longing and regret. “Well,” you teased, your fingers carding through his hair, “you’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

He let out a shaky laugh. “So… does this mean you’ll dump Ethan?”

You laughed, the sound muffled as you buried your face in his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. “Yes, Sebastian,” you said, your voice laced with amusement. “This means I’ll dump Ethan.”

“Good,” he said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

You laughed, the sound filling the cool night air, and Sebastian swore he’d never heard anything more beautiful. In that moment, soaked to the skin and still buzzing from the night’s chaos, he realized something with startling clarity.

He was hopelessly, irreversibly, entirely yours—and for the first time, he wasn’t scared of what that meant.

[made-this-cause-why-not]

Lily and James were pregnant with Harry when they were 19/20 so if your muggle/college AU doesn't have Lily freaking the fuck out between lectures, James asking his dad for a bigger allowance because now he has to buy more than redbulls, microwavable meals and alcohol, OR Sirius and Remus watching harry run around the quad while Lily takes a final and James is at wrestling/rugby/any sport practice, I don't want it. Bonus points if Alice "out of college and married, thus making her a 'responsible adult' in Lily's eyes despite being 23 and tired" Longbottom babysits Harry and forces him and Neville to be friends. Bonus Bonus points if Harry is born during Marlene and Dorcas's semester abroad, and when they come back and watch harry, everyone thinks they had a baby.

[losver07]

guys it's happening

im kinda crying a bit lmao

[myokk]

Eloise🥹💓

[saturnsconstellation]

Pandora the type of person to give you her brutally honest opinion on you, but only the nice ones.

Barty is the type of person to give you his brutality honest opinions on you, but only the mean ones.

Evan the type of person to never give you his honest opinion.

Regulus the type of person to never have a specific opinion on you, he hates everyone equally.

Dorcas the type of person to be brutally honest but in a way that shapes your character for the better.

[glassfag]

tomarry breaking bad au..... methcook dilfhunter boyfail harry being blackmailed into creating a criminal empire by his former chemistry teacher turned meth partner tom.... (and being kind of fine with it because the fucked up psychosexual mentor-mentee relationship they've got going on is rly doing it for him)

[basiatlu]

Supernova ✨

Based off the fic Red Wine Supernova by @mono-chromia which in turn is inspired by the song (same title) “Red Wine Supernova” by Chappel Roan - a banger you need to listen to at least once.

[severussnapemylove]

One of the best moments in Fantastic Beasts has got to be when Queenie can’t unlock Graves’ office door because he’s used some advanced magic on the lock, and Jacob proceeds to just kick the door in.

[hpnextgenthings]

I’m pretty sure all the Malfoys got their names from a fantasy name generator. Like who tf names their kid Abraxas.

[selmasdaydreams]

I’m writing a lil jegulus fic inspired by to all the boys I’ve loved before and trying to work out whether it should be set in Hogwarts or if it should be a muggle au; any thoughts or opinions are much appreciated

Voldemort won’t exist either way and it’ll mostly be a fluffy romcom but yeah idk

[ginevrapng]

they've had such a long tiring day and they miss you terribly. all they want to do is lay on your lap while you play with his hair. his day perks up when he sees you though.

he sneaks up behind you and you're unaware he's there, that is, until he grabs a hold on your plush tummy and squeezes you, causing you to squeal. you've never really liked having someone pinch or grab your stomach, most people wouldn't and you always slap people's hands away, these people meaning your boyfriend. who takes immense pleasure out of the situation feeling your soft round body spill between his fingers, heavenly.

he could listen to the noises you make out of surprise when it happens all of the time. when you grumble afterwards about how he's such a meanie. you'll grumble and complain about it halfheartedly but never straight up tell him to stop, if you did he would. he just grins every time. a laugh escapes their mouth every single time, you yelp and jump away from him. every time he greets you the same way. he always making up any excuse he can to be able to get his hands on you. grab, pull, pinch, squeeze, squish they're doing it, they can't get enough of you and your soft body, they love you so much.

GEORGE, dean, sirius, lee, JAMES, ron, barty, seamus, blaise, evan.

[padfootastic]

truly one of the worst ways james and sirius’ characters were butchered (both by canon and fanon) is the implication that they thought remus was the traitor or spy because he’s a werewolf.

those boys did not spend 3 YEARS becoming ANIMAGI and risking their body, mind, and soul, as well as courting azkaban just to turn around and give in to prejudice against creatures???? like yes, i realise war makes enemies of everyone and it heightens paranoia, suspicion etc etc but this is just the laziest of all reasons??? if they weren’t scared of remus in school, after watching him transform, and they still used the damn nicknames, then why would they suddenly think his furry little problem made him unreliable??

and at that!!!! what tf kind of sense does it make for them to believe that remus was the traitor and then…do absolutely nothing about it???? the whole bullshit only checks out if they all firmly believed each other. if they thought one of them was a spy for the DARK LORD, then why would they shut up about it??? both james and sirius clearly realised the war was about more than just them; they would not be hiding a potential spy if they knew about it.

this is honestly why the whole thing, and r/s reconciliation rubs me the wrong way. if they thought remus was untrustworthy, then give me a reliable reason other than him being a were. (i’ve got a few but none of them are ever used in fics). and even if they had some doubts about remus, it would still never make up for his belief that sirius betrayed the potters and joined the DEs. ever. that’s entirely a false equivalence.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Sirius found himself waiting impatiently for James to return. Bloody hell. He only went to the bathroom, why was Sirius so clingy lately? It was maybe that the idea of being alone and starting to think about all the negative thoughts inside his mind, made Sirius really scared. He needed the distraction.

Luckily, since Sirius arrived at the Potters', James had been the ideal distraction. The boy was full of life, with good and new ideas for something to do. Constantly talking about whatever it occurred to him.

Sirius had been following James around the house like a lost puppy, doing whatever he was doing just not to be left alone. Sirius also had been sleeping with him, because he couldn't bare to be alone at night.

And it felt fine to be with James. He was the type of person that could make anyone feel better in a second. Such a positive bloke with warmth, kindness, hope and love to give. Maybe James was like sunshine. And Sirius was extremely cold.

"You took too long" Sirius found himself saying as James came out of the house with a big smile on his face "Did you take the opportunity to have a wank or what?"

James hit his head playfully as he took a seat next to him. The sun was burning his chocolate skin. Meanwhile Sirius had to cover his pale face with large sunglasses.

"Sorry, handsome" James said "Evans called me" he winked.

Sirius immediately felt a knot on his throat. That girl provoked negative things inside of him. Now she was after James? Now she cared about him? When before all she did was reject him and treat him awfully.

"So better reason to wank" he said trying to tease but he sounded very angry.

James simply laughed.

"I don't know, Padsie. We are getting closer and closer with time. I'm getting to her, I can tell"

Sirius didn't mean to be rude, but he preferred when Evans made James sulk. Not make him smile like an idiot.

"I wouldn't be so quick to get my hopes up" he whispered under his breath.

The idea of Evans having James, his James, was revolting.

"Why are you so grumpy about?" James asked teasingly. "Why is my little Padfoot boy so sad?"

The thing was that Sirius had been grumpy, sulking, moaning and feeling miserable lately.

"I am not grumpy" he lied.

James leaned closer, examinating him.

"Your face gets ugly when you frown like that" James continued "Where's my handsome best friend? Ha ha?"

James was even more close and for some reason, Sirius’s heart started beating fast. He smelled like that coconut sunblock Effie had borrowed them.

"You even have a wrinkle over here" As James touched his temple with his finger, Sirius immediately blushed.

"Oh fuck off!" Sirius pushed James's hand away.

He was blushing. It was so embarrassing.

It had always been comfortable around James. They told each other everything. They teased each other. They joked about being each other's loves. After they both broke up with their first girlfriends and sulked about them together, they swore that they didn't need anyone else more than each other.

Although this summer, things were different. Maybe it was the embarrassment of what happened between Sirius and his family. Maybe it was that they've been spending too much time alone as Effie and Monty went out of the house to do their things. Or maybe the stupid kiss they had shared the night James and Monty found Sirius on the street. He had been so scared, so cold, so hopeless that when he saw James his instinct was to kiss him as a grateful act. He regretted it immediately. Friends didn't do that, specially between boys. Luckily James hadn't mentioned it and Sirius was too ashamed to talk about it. They pretended it just didn't happen.

Now, Sirius was nervous around James. He blushed, his heart raced, he sweated.

But Sirius didn't want to push James away either. He needed him like breathing.

James was laughing.

"Okay grumpy boy, I am free for you now..." James said with a smirk "What do you want to do? Have a swim?"

The thought of both of them being half naked in the pool, made Sirius uneasy. He shook his head.

"Go inside and play video games?"

Having James's knee close to his on the couch, made Sirius freeze and be awkward. He shook his head.

"Boring... Do you want to listen to some music?"

That sounded like the best idea. Maybe Sirius could close his eyes, concentrate on the lyrics and distract himself. He shrugged.

James grabbed his phone and connected it to the speaker, and scrolled through it.

"What should we play, maybe something to improve your mood" James tusked to himself.

Sirius laid back on his chair.

"Just bloody play something"

James grinned.

"Lily told me she likes this song"

Sirius rolled his eyes. Could he stop talking about that stupid girl?

James played it anyway and a soft melody began sounding through the speaker. James was immediately moving his head accordingly.

It was rather an upbeat tune. Very contagious, something pop. When the lady started singing about fucking sunshine or whatever, Sirius hated it.

"It's horrid"

James raised an eyebrow.

"Tosser" he replied "In the mood of something else, I see?" then he gasped, making Sirius jump. "Nobody improves my mood better than Selena"

"Who?" Sirius asked amused.

"Selena Quintanilla?" James exclaimed "One of the reasons why latino music is better, specially Cumbia"

Sirius smiled only because James sounded so excited about this woman's music that it was contagious. And when James played the song, Sirius realized what he meant.

It wasn't precisely Regueton, the kind of hyspanic music Sirius was used to. It was an strange rhythm. So upbeat and delicious that gave you the thrill of immediately moving your body to the rhythm. It was for dancing.

James was definitely enjoying it, moving his body and trying to sing the Spanish lyrics. Sirius knew he understood the language well, when Effie talked to him but he sucked at speaking it. And it was funny because he was trying not to fail but somehow couldn't pronounce them.

Sirius laughed as James tried to sing to him the lyrics. And even if he didn't understand Spanish that well, he knew it was a love song. He recognized the word "amor" or "corazón".

"This song is about a Forbidden Love" James explained beaming at the lyrics. James gave him side glance and smiled to himself.

Something about that revelation made Sirius swallow. Forbidden Love.

Sirius was caught of guard when James stood up to dance. He did it in a funny way even, moving his but from side to side or making silly dance moves. All, to make Sirius laugh, which he did.

"You are ridiculous, Potter"

"See? You look much prettier when you are happy"

There it was again. The flustered cheeks and the warm sensation in his chest. All of this was weird.

"Come and dance with me, Pads" James screamed over the music, extending his hands for him.

Sirius shook his head "No. No way"

James insisted "Come on, you coward. You are scared because you don't think you can do better than me" and as he said this, he did some twerking.

Sirius let out a giggle and then bit his lip.

"Oh I bet I can dance better than whatever that is"

"Prove it then" James said defiantly.

Sirius stood up, only with the desire to impress James. He danced the way he did on parties at Hogwarts. Maybe not how this music was supposed to be danced at all.

"Yeaah Padfoot!" James encouraged, which made Sirius blush. James kept looking at him move. Sirius enjoyed the attention.

James took his hands without warning, teaching him how to move his feet faster, from side to side.

Although while James was concentrated with the dance moves, Sirius was very aware of the way their hands were holding each other. How close they were. They were dancing like a couple would. Boy and Girl.

James even pulled him closer by his hip and Sirius was forced to put his chin on James's warm shoulder. Sirius was a bit shorter than James. Only a few inches. Their chests pressed against one and other. Sirius could feel James's heart beating against his own.

Adrenaline and electricity filled Sirius’s body. His chest was burning and he felt perfectly fine between James's arms. Butterflies and birds inside his belly.

Sirius hadn't felt this way about anyone. So close. So fine. Like meant to be together. No one like his best friend.

He thought: How could Evans reject someone so perfect? Someone so good. Someone so nice. And handsome even. The perfect boy.

They swayed for a while and Sirius wished they could've stayed there all day, all summer, all their lives. He liked the idea of being held by these arms. Forvever.

Then slowly, James faced him. Sirius realized he had big eyelashes behind those glasses. Dark brown eyes. And that untidy hair... Sirius wanted to grab it and pull it.

"Feel better my handsome boy?" James asked, quietly with a low voice.

Sirius’s heart jumped on his chest. He liked the idea of being his. His best friend. His boy.

Sirius nodded. He smiled to show it.

"I always feel better with you around, Prongsie"

James caressed his chin.

"That's how I like it" James said.

They were leaning closer so slowly that they didn't notice. This was new. And thrilling.

Sirius wasn't gay. And for what he knew James either. He had been into Evans since forever.

Then what was going on? Why was James still cupping his face?

Where they going to kiss? Did Sirius actually want it?

"Hello, my dears! We're home!!"

The voice of Effie from inside the house, broke the spell. Both boys were blushing profoundly as they pulled apart. James rubbed his hair with embarrassment. Just like he did around Evans.

Sirius thought it was a hot feature.

"Coming mum!" James yelled.

He didn't look at Sirius as he walked inside. Sirius was left shivering with the sudden desire to kiss his best friend.

Bloody hell! He had a crush on James Potter. He fancied him. He fancied him a lot.

Sirius didn't know what this meant or how this would change their friendship. But he was willing to try.

With that sudden realization, he walked inside as well.