#not with these two colours of acrylic

[bluebellhairpin]

my parents have been put under the illusion that i am a good painter, and while I do enjoy painting i don't think I'm actually as good as they think i am.

[isbergillustration]

Fuse

[serenvde-art]

[uncanny-tranny]

Crochet update: guess who has two thumbs and went through a skein he just bought in three hours and still isn't finished yet (totally not me)

[graff-aganda]

My sample pins arrived!! 🤩👽🐰

The other three in the Summer Blubbin' set are drying bc the pinbacks came off with their rear protective sheets and I had to glue them back on. 😭 I'm pretty happy with their sizes overall! Bogos binted came out kind of large and the raygun came out kind of small by comparison though, so I'll probably see what I can do to fix them. And with the Blubby pins, I might lower the opacity of her blush, it printed kinda dark.

In addition to these I got a few extra designs for funsies. Some TMBG pins based off the Hotel Detective MV for my friends and I who are going to see them this year!! 🤩 One with that WTTH photo I did a redraw of, just for me. And two JFKs (Clone High) bc I thought they'd make funny collar pins hehe. I keep meaning to watch the new season but I want to watch the original again first... hard to find the time!!

[dandunn]

cant reply to the post but TYSM for responding!!! that makes so much sense now bc the acrylics i used when i was younger were crappy and thin bc i had the cheap ones haha. made sense bc i was young and didnt need high quality paints but it put me off acrylics for so long !! but your reply makes me excited to try again with better quality paint!! will def be checking that brand out bc it is available here thank you so much! :]

Haha np, i was the same way starting out with acrylics. Theyre one of the mediums where quality can vary WILDLY comparing on what brand you get i think. Some of the cheaper ones i have are barely any better than poster paint. Whereas you can use a cheaper gouache and it'll be at least useable (in my experience anyway).

Good luck and have fun 😊👍

[cthulhubrain]

colour experimentation wips and sketches concerning my elf.

[zwugnei]

Some odd ones out that also deserves attention

After awhile of taking pics of every pretty colour it starts to add up

(sorry for bad quality my phone is not the best sometimes)

[princemick]

I have a massive fucking headache

[luvsupa]

a/n: writing this bc uni just started for me and I hope this happens to me in class </3 (minus the embarrassing part)

choso sat in the back of the lecture hall, his oversized headphones blasting music so loud you could hear the faint beat, despite being seated right next to him. you tried to focus on the professor up front, but the heavy metal practically vibrated through your brain. with a huff, you paused your typing, your long acrylic nails hovering above the keys, and turned to look at him—now admiring his looks.

his head bobbed along with the music, thick fingers scribbling notes on his large ipad. his hands were adorned with chrome heart rings, matching perfectly with his facial piercings, and every time you saw him, he had on new jewelry that just made him… more attractive. this time, instead of his usual two buns, his hair was down, cascading past his shoulders. god, he looked good like that. you really wanted to tell him to keep his hair down more often, but just being near him made your heart race too fast to even speak.

he was all dressed in black, chunky doc martens completing his look, and you hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring at him until he paused his music, sliding one side of his headphones off to look at you. your heart stopped.

“is my music too loud?” he asked softly, his voice catching you completely off guard. it was… sweet? you blinked, your laptop screen dimming as it fell asleep, just like your focus.

“just a bit,” you mumbled, watching as he grabbed his phone, sliding down the volume with a smile that made your body melt.

“i like you…” the words slipped out before you could stop them.

choso froze, one hand halfway to his headphones, looking at you like you’d just confessed. which… you basically did.

“i-i mean, i like your outfit!” you squeaked, heat flooding your body as your hands became sweaty as you mentally slapped yourself. choso just stared, eyebrows raised.

“n-not that i wouldn’t like you!” you scrambled to explain, your voice lowering to avoid the stares from the people sitting nearby. “i-it just slipped out, i swear!”

choso’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he fully took off his headphones, leaning in slightly as if to hear you better. why not tease her, he thinks

“ohh, i see. so, you wouldn’t like me, huh? that’s a little harsh.” his voice took on a mock-hurt tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was undeniable.

you gasped, totally falling for it. “no! i didn’t mean it like that! cho’, i’m so—”

wait.

you froze. did you just call him “cho’”? you definitely had never exchanged names, much less nicknames! your face drained of colour as choso smirked, clearly enjoying your panic.

“cho’?” he raised a brow, his lip piercing catching the light. “didn’t know we were close like that.” he chuckled, low and teasing. “but i don’t mind. it’s cute.”

you wanted to melt into the floor. the secondhand embarrassment from the other students was evident, and your heart was pounding too hard to think straight. you shot up from your seat, nearly knocking over your bag in your rush to escape. all eyes were on you as you bolted out the back of the classroom, face burning with mortification.

you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you leaned against the sink. “oh my gosh,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. he was totally going to think you were a stalker now. you’d found his instagram before it went private, and you’d seen his younger brother yuji calling him “cho’” in the comments. you were doomed.

meanwhile, back in the classroom, choso couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. he found your flustered state adorable—he didn’t think you were creepy at all. in fact, he wished you’d stayed a little longer so he could keep teasing you. with a soft chuckle, he tore a piece of paper from his artbook from his bag and scribbled down his number quickly as he placed the torn paper on your laptop.

“you can always call me cho’ ;)”

[devoutekuna]

Stupid things their child does

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna slept whenever he was bored, even if it meant in the middle of the vacant room. Soon his daughter would take advantage of his large body by playing on him. "Would you like more tea?" Nodding as she poured the tea into the cup. You and your daughter were having a tea party on her father as he slept, taking advantage of how still he always was and how broad his body was. Laying down next to your husband as you checked if he was actually asleep, poking at his cheek before sitting back up. He was a heavy sleeper most days. Feeling the traces of your clothes getting wet as you realize that it was your daughter's doing, spilling the cup of tea all over the blanket which rested on him. "Oh no" rushing out of the room to find some tissues, whilst you sat all the cutlery up properly.

Coming back with a roll of paper towels, starting to dab them on his clothes. "Hurry before he wakes up" giggling to yourself. Only to stop as soon as you heard your husband starting to shuffle about, rolling over onto his back as he saw his two loved ones sat beside him. A cheeky grin plastered on both of your faces.

Nanami-

His daughter had a thing for art, always drawing something or glueing something down. So when she wandered into her father's office whilst he was working, she realized that he had two copies of most books, some of them having a really pretty front cover. Taking into consideration that he was still reading them, she only took one off each shelf that she could reach which was about 4 in total. Bringing them towards the living room as she already started with her art. Placing her painted hand on the first page as she carried it on, marks of her fingerprints adorning the pages.

"I'm home" it had been a few hours since she had found the books and started her massacre of them, walking into the living room to find the copies laying on the floor with stickers, drawings or paint all over them, fortunately only 2 had been touched whilst the others were kept in their original condition. "Do you like it daddy?" Holding the book up to his face.

Geto-

Leaving his daughter alone with paint would be one of the worst mistakes, most of the time she never acted on her curiosity after learning that the hard way. But when she gets left alone with a set of paint, she can't hold back. Sticking her hand onto the plate as she placed it on the table, unfortunately it was acrylic paint too, so it would be nearly impossible to get off. Placing her hand all along the table, a mixture of colours like pink, purple, blue and red, decorating the table with her small hand. Only stopping when she hears the footsteps of her father, unfortunately for her he was quicker and saw all the mess before she could put the paper back on. "Oh.." realising that she may actually get in trouble. Only sighing in defeat, he wanted to get annoyed at her but he knew it was his fault for leaving her alone.

Gojo-

It was his son's birthday and they had a bunch of balloons out, making sure they were filled with helium for his plan. Attaching a few strings onto his son's clothing. "Don't tell your mother about this, she'll kill me" blowing the balloons up with helium, noticing how he already started to lift off the ground. "Ahh! I'm going to fly" wrapping some more balloons on his small body. Body already leaving the ground. Putting his hand over his mouth as he tried to stop giggling, he was so excited to fly, just like his father. Head hitting the ceiling as he got to high. "Take me outside!" Dragging the boy by the strings towards the outside, this was a really stupid idea, already noticing how high he would get if he wasn't holding on. "Satoru!" His wife's voice made him jump as he dropped the string. "Are you stupid?" Running towards your son. He had completely forgotten about his son when he saw you. "Hi mummy!" Saving down as he got higher and higher.

Toji-

"Help daddy!" Legs wailing in the air as she was laid down on the floor, she wanted to go on the mission with her father but he'd never allow that, but she really wanted to go so she did her last resort, trying to fit inside his worm. "What the-" refraining from swearing as he walked up towards the girl. Grabbing her by the legs as he dragged her out, tears streaming down her face, she thought she was going to get eaten by the thing. "I just wanted to come with you, b-b" crying her eyes out as she gripped onto his shirt, "But it started to eat me!" Getting it all out in one sentence before crying, getting his shirt all wet. It was stupid but he had to bring her on a mission after such dedication? "Your fine" leaving the worm alone, he didn't know if someone could survive inside of the worm since he never tried it before.

[rubiehart]

when leopard!reader realises what a mess the twinkie is, she decides to give it a little spritz-up.

she runs a black acrylic tipped finger along the bumper of the twinkie, a streak of colour trailing through the dull coat of dirt that had built up as she grimaces, the van swaying as the rest of the gang hop out of the rustbucket. she wipes the grub on her denim shorts casually and turns towards him.

“jesus, john b. when was the last time you cleaned this?” she calls to him, hand shielding her eyes as she squints towards the sun, watching as john b and jj continue towards the chateau, stomping the dead grass as kie and pope follow not too far behind.

“ew.” kie comments off handedly, face scrunching up in disgust as she notices the state of it. “uh, few months back?” john b calls back nonchalantly, ignoring jj’s comment of “dude, more like a ‘few years’.”

“haven’t had time to get ‘round to it yet.” he shrugs, spinning back around and traipsing up the wooden steps with the two other pogue boys on his trail. she rolls her eyes, plan already forming in her head as she slings her backpack over her shoulder and jogs to catch up with kie.

half an hour or so later, the boys are lounging on the porch with some beers, the early evening sunset casting a comfortable and calm energy over the group, so mellow they hadn’t even really noticed the absence of the girls until now.

the sloshing of water and grunts of struggle are heard before they’re seen, emerging from around the back of the chateau with buckets filled with water, adorned in the tiniest bikini the boys had possibly ever seen.

“this is gonna be a job n’ a half.” she sighs, panting as she places two heavy books on the ground next to the van, kie nodding along with her? hands on her hips as she catches her breath.

“oh my god john b, how do you even let it get this bad?” kie mumbles as she unravels the hose from the tap at the side of the house, both girls not picking up on all three boys stunned expressions.

“what’s goin’ on here?” john b drawls with a lazy smirk, eyes shamelessly trained on the both of them as the other two ogle in silence.

“what’s it look like, douchebag?” she sighs, grabbing the hose from kie and beginning to hose down the roof as kie goes for the sponges and soap.

“looks like you’re washing the twinkie.” pope answers for you dumbly, eyes wide and cheeks noticeably flushed as he stares straight ahead at the van. both of your eyebrows furrow in confusion but neither of you comment, focusing on sudding up the sponges in your grip.

jj chuckles dryly, taking a long swig of his beer, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind head. “sit back and enjoy the show, bro.” he grins, giving pope a brotherly pat on the shoulder, a silent plea to get him to ease up a little, eyes still ogling your ass as you scrub at a particularly stubborn spot.

“see the shit we do for you, john b?” you sigh, walking around to the bonnet as you dip your sponge into the bucket of water, tits almost spilling out of the thin material as you scrub at the volkswagen symbol until you can see your face in it.

“actively seein’ it.” he nods flirting, causing you to look at him with a sideways smirk, flipping all three boys off collectively when jj playfully lets out a low whistle. “you’re such pervs.” kie sighs, crouched down as she scrubs at the metal above the wheels, eyes flicking from your smooth thighs to the van.

of course you knew they were loving it, but you loved the chase, even if you’d never admit it. so of course you continued, noticing ever little look from kiara, every time jj adjusted the way he was sitting, every time pope cleared his throat nervously, and every time you caught john b shamelessly ogling when he thought you weren’t looking.

so, yeah. sudding up your tits and shaking your body a little exaggeratedly to get a rise out of them wasn’t exactly accidental. after all, little teasing never hurt nobody.

[isbergillustration]

Powered Up

[jabbage]

The Secret of Sherlock Holmes bookbinding project!

I've really wanted a hard copy for a while of 'The Secret of Sherlock Holmes' play by Jeremy Paul, which was performed by Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke (and is very high on my list of things to go and see if I get a time machine, because there aren't any video recordings of it.)

ANYWAY it's long out of print and very expensive to buy so I figured... I can just make one myself!

First I bound the text block. It's so slim, at a grand total of 75 pages.

I bound the cover in honey-coloured book cloth, and then set about creating a cover design.

I wanted to use the official logo of the play and this amazing publicity photo, so I went into my paint package of choice (clip studio) and tweaked the photograph until I was happy I'd got a likeness of the actors only using black and white. I think Jeremy Brett lost a little of his handsomeness, alas.

A while ago I bought a cutting machine, a Silhouette Portrait, which comes with some great software which can automatically convert an image like this into a path for the cutting machine to follow, although I usually tweak it manually too.

For example, I figured the weave on Hardwicke's tie was too intricate so I removed it.

Then I set the cutting machine to work!

For a while I tried using self-adhesive vinyl to make covers, but I found that it wasn't very hard-wearing and would start peeling off. These days I use self-adhesive vinyl to make a stencil, and then paint onto the book cloth in acrylic. The fact that the stencil is self-adhesive reduces the chances of any paint sneaking in underneath!

(The stencil is gold just because I have a lot of spare gold vinyl - it's probably not the best colour to use.)

For this project I did something I've never done before, which is doing two layered stencils, a white layer underneath, and then a black layer on top.

I kind of regret not painting all of the figures in white because if you squint you can see the line where the white stops on the final piece.

And now for the really satisfying bit - peeling of the stencil when everything has dried!

I'm really pleased with the finished book, and it's so fun to possibly have the only hardback version of this play... ever...???

[gay-dorito-dust]

can you write atsv characters reacting to a masc or Gn reader being super motherly/fatherly to a kitten? Just romantic stuff no smut

Miles Morales felt the beginnings of a smile stretch across his lips when he caught you helping the kitten dip their paws into some paint and then letting them parade about the canvas, leaving colourful paw prints in their wake with a variety of colours that meshed well despite their opposing components.

(He secretly thanks that it ain’t acrylic paint cuz that’s a bastard to get out, trust me.)

It made his heart swell at the wholesome sight that he couldn’t help but join in on the fun by drawing about the paw prints, making adjustments so that they’d look like a portrait of a field of unique paw shaped flowers, whilst adding his own flair of art style by sketching out the sky before bringing out the marker pens and colouring pencils that he had laying about.

Bonus if he has some music playing in the background because it means you and the little kitten get a private concert when Miles starts singing the lyrics under his breath as he’s taken away to his happy place. You loved getting to see his art in process as you got to appreciate the dedication he puts into each of his works and it brought an even bigger smile to his face when the brown kitten would try to follow the lines of his pencil as though it were a laser; so much so that the finished product was made of lines that stopped and started elsewhere but Miles was talented enough to make it into a work of art worth having in a museum somewhere.

‘Watch out Miles, you’re not the only artist in this family anymore.’ You teased as you both watched as the kitten dipped their paws back into some paint and walking across the bottom of the canvas so it would look as those some of the petals of the flowers had wilted off. ‘He takes after me, don’t you little man?’ Miles says as he puts a hand out -palm up- for the kitten, uncaring that there’d be a smeared purple paw print there afterwards, he was use to getting a little messy. You chuckled at the interaction, ‘so does that mean I’ll be expecting frequent collaborations between you two in the nearby future?’ He shrugs but before he could open his mouth, the brown kitten mewled at you both, making you look at him as he sat next to the canvas that looked to be filled with more colourful white paw prints that doted the sky like stars, ‘that’s to be discussed.’ Miles tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before picking up the kitten to wash his paws whilst you put the canvas somewhere safe to dry.

Pavitr Prabhakar felt as though he could die of cuteness overload when he caught you and the kitten you both had rescued engaging in a multitude of playful games; one of which being based off is something you’ve noticed that the kitten would do whenever you disappeared from it’s sight, where it would then mewl loudly, only stopping when you gave in and poked your head out from the doorway as though it did nothing. So now and then you or Pav would purposefully hide yourselves from the kitten and wait until it either starts mewling or looks for you both themselves; then and only then would you reveal yourselves before repeating the process to see whether or not the kitten had gotten closer then last time.

Another thing you liked to do with the kitten was have them in your lap as you lightly tickled their tummy before pulling away as the kitten imitated your movements by stretching their paws above their head before you proceeded to tickle their stomachs some more and repeating the process; each time dying at how cute your little kitten was that you couldn’t help but cover them in a flurry of tiny kisses against their fur.

You didn’t acknowledge Pavitr until you heard the sound of a photo being taken which was when your head whipped in the direction the sound came from, only to spot Pav with his phone in hand. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ You asked him as the kitten had started to drift to sleep in your lap, leeching off of your warmth. ‘Long enough to capture a photo of my two beloveds and make it my Lock Screen.’ He responded as he turned his phone to show you the picture he had taken and needless to say his photography skills were phenomenal; the picture has captured the moment beautifully and the way the light from a nearby window beaming down onto you and the kitten, silhouetting you both somewhat, as you smiled down at the kitten with an abundance of love and affection in your eyes as the kitten looked to have reciprocated those feelings by looking up at you in an admirable way.

‘It’s a beautiful picture but it’s missing something.’ You tell him.

Pavitr makes a face as he sits down next to you, where the kitten then shifted from your lap to his, purring in content as he ran his fingers over the kittens fur. ‘What would that be?’

‘You.’ You said blatantly as you grabbed his phone from him and took another picture but this time with all three of you; that picture picture quickly became Pavitr’s favourite as it took over as his new screen lock that he loves to look at whenever he felt down or needed a reminder of what he’s got waiting for him after the day was over. The life of being Spider-Man was hectic but it was made all the more worth it when he got to experience moments where it was just you, him and your little fur baby.

Miles, gwen and Hobie would have these types of photos shoved in their face whenever they meet up, but they didn’t mind as it was a sight to see Pavitr beaming as brightly as he did when you or the kitten were brought into the conversation. He’s a proud cat dad with a whole album dedicated to capturing the kitten within every moment of it’s life.

Gwen Stacy stood at the doorway, watching with slight amusement as you set up a makeshift bed for the kitten -a russian blue, you later found out- that was drifting fast asleep on your pillow. Gwen wasn’t that partial to keeping the kitten, mainly because in due to the amount of commitment you’d both have to put in to raising them, but it seemed as though you were more then willing to put in the work as the moment you both found the poor thing seeking shelter underneath a parked car after Gwen heard it’s mewls for help.

You personally made sure that the kitten was being fed, hydrated, bathed, and just overall taken care of while she looked for a good family that would properly take care of Blue; a name you had only just recently picked out after a week of temporarily housing the kitten. However it seemed as though overtime your bond with Blue had deepened significantly to the point where most of the spare space you had became play areas for your newest addition. ‘They seemed to have made themselves quite content there don’t you think.’ Gwen points out and you couldn’t help but internally coo at content Blue looked upon your bed and how their entire body was almost submerged within your bedding, you didn’t have the heart to move them in fear of disrupting their sleep.

‘Yeah, seems as though they have, cheeky little bugger.’ You said fondly as you moved away from what was originally going to be the designated place for Blue’s bed and knelt by the side of your bed, lightly running your fingers through Blue’s soft fur as a soft smile beamed across your face at their comfortability to be vulnerable in front of you and Gwen. ‘You love them don’t you?’ She asked as she moved into the room and knelt beside you and resting her head against your shoulder, having watched you build a trust bond with this kitten made her rethink her whole ideology on have a pet, that if she did find a proper home for Blue. She doesn’t think she could handle seeing how heartbroken you’d be in having to give up the kitten you’ve spent countless hours and sleepless nights raising as though they were your own; which was why she had stopped looking entirely weeks ago but never told you.

You rested your head atop of Gwen’s as you sighed, ‘of course I do,’ you tell her, ‘as tiering as raising this little primadona was, it was all worth it.’

‘Then it’s settled then.’ She tells you and you looked at her in confusion. ‘We’re keeping the kitten and besides,’ she shrugs, ‘I couldn’t find a suitable home for them and you’re both too adorable to split apart.’ Upon hearing this your eyes brightened, ‘does that mean we’re cat parents now.’ You whispered excitedly to Gwen as she could could only smile back from how infectious your happiness was and how she was happy in being the one to bring that happiness out of you, knowing firsthand how deeply you loved Blue and now she wanted to be apart of that too. ‘Yes y/n, we’re cat parents now.’ Gwen agreed as she looked at Blue as they slept. ‘Welcome to the family Blue Stacy.’

Hobie Brown could tell there was a change in your demeanour when you returned home, completely drenched and with your jacket bundled in your arms as though you were crawling something; It also didn’t help that it had been raining for the past week.

‘Are you mad?’ Was the first thing he asked and you shrugged, knowing he was more worried then he was upset, ‘I’d like to think that I’m mentally sound.’ You replied without a hitch. Hobie sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant against the wall. ‘Would you at least tell me what’s so important that you had to take your jacket off, whilst in the rain no less.’ Before you could speak, your bundled up jacket moved in your arms restlessly until you eventually unraveled it to reveal a scruffy looking kitten with dirty brown fur.

Hobie should’ve known that you went out of your way to make sure that the kitten was kept out of the rain, even if it resulted in you catching a cold the next day from doing so but he knew you’d do it again in a heartbeat; It was in your nature to uplift others into your arms. If anything pissed him off, it would have to be the fact that many people only viewed pets as an accessory they could shop for whenever rather then the lifelong companions that they were; he hated it even more when those same people abandon them out on days like these, despite knowing damn well that they wouldn’t survive.

‘Now before you say anything, I found this little guy in a alleyway in a cardboard box that was soaked and rotting, I couldn’t leave him there Hobie, the poor guy was too weak that I could nearly hear him meow.’ You let the kitten down gently onto the floor where it then proceeded to run towards Hobie, looking up at him defiantly. Hobie couldn’t help but chuckle as he knelt to floor, holding his hand out -palm up- which the kitten then proceeded to sniff and upon deciding neither him nor you were threats, the orange tabby then allowed for Hobie to pick him up.

‘I like the fire in this one’s eyes,’ he tells you as he began to stroke the tabby’s fur as it purred, ‘though we do have to give him a wash soon before we do anything else but I’m sure I can find something to make a collar out of.’ You gasped, running up to him and the tabby in his arms, ‘you hear that little buddy,’ the kitten only blearily blinked at you in response, ‘you’re staying.’ You whispered, gingerly scooping them out of Hobie’s arms, lost in the plans you had in store as you wandered off to prepare a bath, leaving Hobie to watch on with an amused look upon his face; brainstorming his own plans with the little tabby that looked at him from over your shoulder in a desperate plea for help.

Yeah, he loves his little anarchist family already.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Wednesday, December 23rd

The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials. 

At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day. 

And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right? 

“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends. 

You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite. 

“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.” 

“Well, does he colour his drawings?” 

You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.” 

“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?” 

Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.” 

“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.” 

“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.” 

“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches. 

They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available. 

“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.” 

“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette. 

“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?” 

“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?

“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?” 

You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.” 

“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled. 

“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?” 

“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.” 

“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile. 

“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?” 

“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over. 

As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” 

“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box. 

“Would you like me to call you a cab?” 

You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”

The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited. 

When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?” 

No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room. 

There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak. 

We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.

You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room. 

That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire. 

“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney. 

“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?” 

“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.” 

“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.” 

You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed. 

Thursday, December 24th

There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.” 

“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles. 

The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people.  Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative. 

“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed. 

By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.” 

Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.  

“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”  

You frowned at that, that had never been your intention. 

“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–” 

“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you. 

“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”

“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile. 

“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.” 

You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.

“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued. 

You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.

When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof. 

Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on. 

“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.” 

“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?” 

“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.” 

“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question. 

“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.” 

“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.” 

“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”

Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.” 

“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.” 

“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way? 

You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love. 

When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether? 

“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”

Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.” 

“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”

Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks. 

You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water. 

Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime.  Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still.  Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast.  Your bestest friend, James P.  PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff.  PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius. 

James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.  

You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning. 

You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’. 

It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites. 

And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.

When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him. 

You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read. 

You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all. 

Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’. 

Friday, December 25th

You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl. 

“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again. 

You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments. 

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?” 

The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been. 

Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left. 

Merry Christmas Star Seeker,  Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended!  Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.

You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours. 

Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play,   Love,  The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha. 

You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it:  “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable. 

And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh. 

When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting. 

You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles,  dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily

You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open. 

You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions. 

There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while. 

It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?” 

You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note.��

Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder.  You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts.  AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it.  Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas!  Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend,  Prongs. 

You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant. 

After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first. 

You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself.  Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.

You laughed, he’s not wrong. 

Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean.  As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter.  You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want.  All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift.  Love,  Sirius 

See the letter here

You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered. 

There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel. 

There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French: 

À l'étoile la plus brillante.  Amour, 

And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you. 

Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that. 

You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting. 

Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift. 

As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter. 

Hey there, Little Witch,  Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that.  I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he?  Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own.  Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes.  There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too.  Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it.  Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true.  Love,  Moony.  PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.

See the letter here

By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made. 

He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy. 

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.  

“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve. 

You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to. 

You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents. 

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case. 

You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck. 

One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room. 

“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room. 

You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings. 

“We’ll take the floo?” you asked. 

Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle. 

“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party. 

“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.” 

The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.

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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx

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