Je suis une pomme de terre @slightyflammable - Tumblr Blog

Prompt 12 - Happiness

Wolfstar June 12, word count 611

Previous part First part

Remus looked up at the house before them. It was Lily and James’s house in Godric’s Hollow. He inhaled a jerky breath and almost grabbed Sirius’s hand when he walked towards the house before he remembered that Sirius was only a memory and that he couldn’t touch him.

Together, he, McGonagall and Dumbledore followed the memory Sirius up to the house. He knocked once, and James opened the door, hurrying him in.

“We’re ready,” James said, hugging Sirius close as Lily came through with Harry in her arms.

“Look,” Sirius said, as he kissed Lily on the cheek. “I’ve had an idea. Everyone will know I am your secret keeper once the word gets out that you’ve gone into hiding. Shit like this doesn’t stay secret. So Voldemort’s forces will come after me, but what if I’m not the secret keeper? What if we pretend I am but use someone no one will ever guess we’d use?”

“Remus?” Lily asked, her face creased with concern. “Everyone will know he’d be our second choice.”

Remus felt a pang of shock hit him. They would have chosen him?

“I don’t know if we can trust him,” Sirius shook his head.

“I don’t think you’re right,” James interjected. “Remus isn’t the spy; I just know it.”

“Dumbledore then?” Lily asked. Sirius shook his head.

“No, this should stay between us, no outsiders, Marauders only.” James and Lily stared at him. “Peter!” he prompted, and he saw the moment it clicked.

“But, Peter’s—”

“I know, that’s exactly why it’s such a good idea, because never in a million years will the other side think you’d choose Peter over me. I’ll go around pretending it is me, but secretly it will be Peter. A secret within a secret,” Sirius finished proudly.

Lily and James conferred silently, worry so clear on their tired faces.

“It just might work,” James said.

“I don’t like it,” Lily told him, her voice almost pleading.

“Look, we can trust Peter; he’s one of my oldest friends. We’ve been through it all.”

“Fine,” Lily sighed, not fighting James’s decision. “Go get him, and let’s get this over with.”

Sirius hugged them both again and ran out the door.

The memory waved and swirled before coming back into focus an hour later, with both Sirius and Peter returned.

Remus growled and started towards Peter, but McGonagall put her hand on his arm, and he stepped back. He knew he couldn’t hurt the memory Peter, but he’d at least like to try.

“Honoured, really I am,” Peter was saying, his eyes shining with what Remus was sure they’d mistaken for happiness at being asked to do this extremely important task over Sirius, but Remus saw it for what it truly was: power and greed. Peter knew the power that was about to be bestowed upon him, and knowing now what he did with it, Remus rushed forward and swiped at Peter, but nothing happened; Remus’s hand passed through the memory of the man who was once his friend.

The memory continued with James and Sirius helping Peter to cast the Fidelius charm and ended with James hugging Peter and thanking him for keeping his family safe.

The memory swirled around them, and Remus stood from the pensieve, tears trailing down his cheeks. He turned to Sirius, who looked guilty as all hell.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, and Remus crossed the room and caught him up in his arms.

“I forgive you,” Remus whispered into Sirius’s ear, and for a moment they grieved their friends, forgetting that McGonagall and Dumbledore were standing right behind them, because this was about them. This was about the Marauders.

lulublack90

Prompt 12 - Identity

@wolfstarmicrofic June 12, word count 150

For years, Sirius had been the heartbreakingly handsome pureblood, the best Beater at Hogwarts, one of the top smartest students in his year, a marauder, but now, school was over, and he was out in the real world; what was his identity now?

Brave Order soldier, part of the fight between good and evil, light and dark? It took him a while to realise that none of that mattered; what really mattered were the people he chose to have around him. The people who loved him and he loved, especially Remus.

So, while the rest of the world knew him as The Disgraced Black Heir, a powerful dueller, and one of the luckiest members of the Order, even he didn’t know how he got out of some of the scrapes he got caught up in; to those that mattered, he was just Sirius, and to Remus, he was his everything.

lulublack90

Prompt 12 - Question

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic June 12, Word count 345

Previous part First part

The next morning, after Reg went to work, James pulled out his phone and called Remus. Sirius said he was coming home today, so hopefully James would catch him before he set off.

“I was wondering when you were going to call,” Remus greeted him.

“Hi, Remus.” James immediately felt better hearing Remus’s calm, lilting voice.

“He’s fine; we had a long talk yesterday, and he knows he shouldn’t have just run away, but I think it was probably for the best, especially if Regulus were to say anything else about it.”

It took James a second to process what Remus had said after hearing him call Reg, Regulus. It was odd to think that to him, he was Reg, but to everyone else he was Sirius’s little brother, Regulus.

“He didn’t mean to upset him. I mean, is Sirius really into that?” He bit his lip. There was nothing wrong with puppy play or anything like that, but not having been exposed to it, James could admit he was struggling to understand.

“Yeah, I know. He sent an apology to Sirius. It helped, by the way. And it’s not my place to say anything; that’s for Sirius to tell you, if and when he wants.” Remus’s voice turned stern, and James felt compelled to do as he asked. “The only way I can answer your question is just to say that he’s happy. He’s so happy, just give him time. He wants to tell you, but he’s not ready yet.”

“Thanks, Remus,” he said, feeling the guilt and stress he’d been feeling since Sirius had slammed that door in his face.

“Tell him I love him.”

“Will do.”

“See you soon?”

“Yeah, we’ll set something up, and then I can finally meet the famous Regulus Black.”

“Sounds good, thanks, Remus.”

“Anytime.”

They hung up, and James felt better. They’d be alright. He sent off a quick text to Reg telling him that Sirius was fine and that his message had helped, then got started on his own work which could be delayed no longer.

bimoonphases

@wolfstarmicrofic Pride prompt 6 - Orientation [word count 238]

"Come on Prongs, he's gorgeous!"

"He's also working, and honestly I'd rather do anything else other than steer students towards the right room for orientation," James sighed.

"You know what? You've become boring since you started dating Lily. He's hot and I'm going to shoot my shot."

"Suit yourself, Pads."

When his name was called, Sirius strutted up to the desk, grinning at the older student with the frankly alarming-looking vintage jumper.

"Sirius, that's me," he said. "And what's your name, hot stuff?"

He thought he saw a faint blush on the other's cheeks but then he just looked down at his stack of papers.

"It's Remus. Orientation?" he asked, his voice exhausted like someone who had done the same exact thing for hours by then.

"Oh, very gay," Sirius shot back, leaning on the desk. "How about you, can I buy you a coffee some time?"

Remus looked up again and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks now. Sirius smirked.

"I meant which work orientation you're scheduled with," Remus said faintly.

"Ah, that. The mechanical engineering workshop, I'm really good with my hands."

Sirius was a little disappointed when Remus handed him his orientation sheet without looking up again. But as he walked away and looked at it he saw something scrawled right on top, by a series of numbers.

I'm a theatre student, so I'm very good with my tongue

Call me - Remus

missmoonfrost

Listening - a jegulus microfic

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - June 1: tolerate - words: 297

"So then I though", Regulus went on, eyes gleaming with excitement in the amber light from the fireplace, "since this potion is so particular about only stiring clockwise, wouldn't choosing flowers only from the south side of the mountain make it more potent?"

James leaned his chin in his hands and enjoyed every moment of Regulus' precens, his full voice and the astonishing fact that Regulus found him worthy to share his unfiltered thoughts with.

True, James didn't particularly care for the subject. But seeing Regulus hands in the air gracefully punctuating the story och the gorgeus slant of a smile that told him Regulus was relaxed enough to say whatever popped up in his head, was a delight.

"But then I thought, since you are supposed to stir with silver rod, maybe it's affected by the moon as well... Oh." Regulus suddenly drew in on himself, brows pinching and lips hardening into their usual line. "I'm rambling. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I want to hear more!" James protested. "I like listening to you rambling."

"Don't coddle me, Potter!" Regulus crossed his arms.

"Please." James batted his eyelids.

Regulus scoffed, but his eyes softened. "That I'm lucky enough to have found someone who tolerate my excessive talking doesn't mean I have to do it all the time. You'll grow tired of me eventually."

"No, love, not tolerate. I love listening to you."

Regulus stared at him.

"Can I hear your theory about the silver and the moon?" James asked and carefully adjusted into a relaxed position again.

Regulus mouth opened, but before he continued he squinted his eyes at James. "Really? You want to hear about potions?"

"I want to hear whatever you want to tell me."

missmoonfrost

The dream - a drarry microfic

@drarrymicrofic - prompt: Dream - words: 693

Draco moved as though wading through syrup. Even though he ran as fast as he could, he barely seemed to move at all.

Harry was calling his name from somewhere very close by. His eyes searched anxiously for him, but although Draco stood right in front of him, his gaze kept sliding past. Draco was invisible.

Draco continued struggling through the sluggish resistance and at last, he was near enough to reach Harry. He stretched out his arm - and grasped nothing but air.

Gasping, he tore himself free from the suffocating sheets of his own bed. His heart raced in the aftermath of the nightmare. Sweat clung to his entire body. The air was stale and unpleasantly warm, even though a quick tempus charm told him it was already past midnight.

The other side of the bed was empty. The duvet had been thrown aside, but the mattress was still warm. Harry was surely just in the bathroom. Or getting a glass of water. He had never been a solid sleeper, and his nightly wandering had been even worse lately.

Draco listened for his footsteps, but in Grimmauld Place, he could never be sure if the creaks he heard were actually someone or just the house living its own life. The uneasy feeling from the nightmare lingered. Surely nothing had happened to him? Even though there was no reason to think so, the thought refused to leave him.

The harsh words from the previous evening suddenly came back to him. In the stillness of the night, they seemed embarrassingly exaggerated. Did it really matter so much that Harry scattered things around like a thoughtless teenager in their own home? That Harry wanted him to travel less within his work was maybe not so much an attempt at control as a reasonable wish to have him home more? And why had Draco felt compelled to bring up that incident with the Ashwinder laying eggs everywhere? That had been years ago.

Harry probably hadn't really meant what he'd said about being tired of him either, but it still stung. People did leave each other, even after many years. Harry certainly wouldn't be the first man in history if he found someone on the side, nor would he lack reason. With the worry gnawing on him, Draco had been snappier and sharper than usual.

In his longing for reconciliation and reassurance, the continuing silence grew frighteningly impenetrable. He had to get up and look for Harry.

He was sitting at his desk, a single floating candle lit.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked softly.

“Nothing,” Harry replied quickly, sliding a desk drawer shut.

The evasive tone sent a flare of worry through Draco’s chest. Why was Harry keeping secrets from him? And why was he avoiding his gaze?

“I know I... I mean...” Harry pulled a hand through his obnoxiously unruly hair, “I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it like that.”

Draco nodded forgivingly, but his desire to apologise had already turned into suspicion.

“Are you coming back to bed?” Draco asked and drew the robe tighter around himself.

Harry nodded. “Just need to use the bathroom first.”

He returned the kiss Harry gave him on the way out, though stiffly. Then he remained in place, listening for the click of the bathroom door lock. Once he heard it, he opened the desk drawer.

Amid the jumble of quills, sealing wax, and loose coins, lay a strangely out-of-place stack of papers.

Draco picked it up and immediately felt warmth spread through his chest.

Their wedding photograph, where a young version of himself looked adoringly at a young handsome Harry.

Love letters in the overly pretentious handwriting Draco had as a teenager.

A silly birthday card he had drawn for him.

When the toilet flushed, he quickly put everything back and intercepted Harry, catching him in a tight embrace.

“I'm sorry”, he whispered into Harry's hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry replied and pulled back with a hopeful smile. “Come to bed with me?”

Suddenly, there was nothing he wanted to do more than cuddle close to his husband.

fictionalsimp09

Aromantic - Wolfstar - @wolfstarmicrofic - 567 words - AO3

Remus’ heart skips a beat as he walks into the living room after his coffee date with Lily to find Sirius staring into space, tear tracks dried on his cheeks, instantly assuming the worst.

“Sirius? What’s wrong?”

His husband turns to him, his long, greying hair frizzy and tangled presumably from repeatedly running his hands through it. “Teddy- um…” He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut. “You know how they came out as genderfluid to us?” Remus sits on the sofa next to him, intertwining their fingers and silently urging him to continue. “Well, we got talking earlier and he started explaining all these different identities. Do you know just how many there are now? It’s amazing how people can have ways of expressing themselves nowadays and not feel so alone.”

“That does sound pretty amazing,” he agrees.

“Yeah…” Sirius begins spinning the ring on his index finger, a nervous habit of his that he’s hand since he was a teenager. “Have- have you heard of aromantic?”

“No, I don’t believe I have.”

“Well, it’s where someone experiences little to no romantic attraction. It is a spectrum, varying in intensity and frequency between individuals. A spectrum that I think- that I think I’m on.” He turns to look at him, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks yet again. “I do experience romantic attraction. I love you so much, Moons. But…demiromantic, I think is the specific term for it. I only experience romantic attraction for people I have a deep emotional connection with.”

“So that’s why when we were younger, you had lots of flings but only a handful of actual relationships?”

“For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me, or that my parents fucked me up beyond repair. Turns out, I just need to be good friends with someone before any feelings could develop.”

Remus gently knocks their shoulders together. “Good thing we were best friends for years before we finally got our act together, eh?”

“Does- does thing change anything for you? For us?”

He cradles Sirius’ face, tenderly swiping the tears away with his thumbs. “This only changes things if you want it to.”

“I don’t want it to. I love you. I love you so much and I think it would actually kill me if you left.”

Leaning forward and softly connecting their lips, Remus murmurs, “I love you and would never leave you, especially not because of your sexuality. I am so proud of you for telling me this, Sirius. I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy.”

The tears that have only just stopped start streaming down his face again, Sirius repeatedly muttering apologies as he buries his face in the crook of Remus’ neck and completely soaks his jumper. When he eventually calms down, Remus makes them both a warm, sweet cup of tea and opens the box of fancy chocolate they were saving for a special occasion, switching on the telly to put Sirius’ favourite movie—Matilda—on. He watches his husband drift off to sleep, curled up next to him underneath the blanket Effie knitted for them as a wedding gift, and is consumed by an immense love for this man, an intensity that hasn’t once faded throughout the decades they have been together. Oh, how lucky Remus is for the Universe to bring him the most wonderful, amazing, perfect gift that is Sirius Lupin.

missmoonfrost

French euphemisms - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic - June 9: bisexual - words: 275 - based on this post

"I need to tell you something", Sirius mumbled without looking at Remus.

He pressed both palms into the smooth cold stone of the astronomy tower, stared into the sky and tried to find the words before Remus got too worried.

"I, er... what do you say... run both by sail and steam?"

Remus blinked in confusion. "Are you... a boat?"

"No!" Sirius groaned and his his face in his hands. "I am... attracted... to both boys and girls."

"Oh. You're bisexual."

Remus calm clear voice made Sirius release a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He even dared a faint smile when he looked up.

"Of course, you'll have a precise term for it, you nerd."

Remus smiled unconvincingly and looked away. Didn't he knew that Sirius found his penchant exact vocabulary undescribably cute? Or was he more opposed to the news than his initial calm had suggested?

"Is there... a problem?"

"No!" Remus assured in a high pithed voice that convinced Sirius even less. "Which, er... which one is the sail and which is the steam?" Remus picked at the hem of his robe and didn't look up.

"Forget it!" Sirius huffed, "it's just a stupid french euphemism."

"It's just that I..." Remus took a deep breath, "I think I'm only attracted to boys, myself. Which would be homosexual."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They stared at each other. Until Sirius knocked his shoulder into Remus' and they both let their breath out and laughed with dispersed tension.

missmoonfrost

Leaving the party - a jegulus microfic

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - June 11: out - words: 434

Another loud wailing nearly drowned out every conversation in Sirius' and Remus' festively decorated living room. Sirius went to check in the kitchen, where James paced around rocking baby Harry in his arms.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he muttered, "Last time you fell asleep so easily. What's the matter this time, huh? Are you just getting too old to fall asleep around a bunch of strangers?"

"We're not strangers", Sirius protested. "And even of Harry is a little grumpy today, I don't get why you have to keep Regulus away from the party, too."

"I'm not."

"You are! I've been dragging him back to dance two times, and yet here he is again."

Sirius understood parenthood was hard, but James didn't have to make it everybody elses problem, least of all Regulus', who had never asked to be a dad when he walked into this mess.

Regulus shot him a glare, sitting on the kitchen counter.

James sighed. "Anyhow. I think it's time to give up. This little man needs his own bed."

"So, you're leaving?" Sirius pouted.

"Maybe not." James turned to Regulus, "Do you want to take Harry home?"

"Wait a minute", Sirius crossed his arms, "are you really dumping the responsability on him?"

He didn't say that it was his damn child, but it was on the tip of his tounge.

"I'm offering him a way out." James protested tiredly. "What's more logical than the one us not wanting to be here being the one to leave?

"Reg hasn't said anything about wanting to leave", Sirius huffed.

"Because I'm trying to be polite!" Regulus snapped. "I love you guys, but all the people and noise and interactions is just... draining. I've had enough."

Regulus rose and carefully took the fussing Harry from James' arms. James' and Regulus foreheads touched, then they shared a quick kiss before James started packing Harry's things scattered over the room.

Something about the quiet trusting movements settled something in Sirius chest that he feelt instant shame over not having realised earlier. Trying to play the protective older brother, he had just forced Regulus into situations he didn't want. And trying to shield him from a responsability that was rightfully James' he had just made the already difficult roll as step father even harder.

"I'm sorry", Sirius mumbled and put a hand on Regulus' shoulder.

"What for?" Regulus narrowed his eyes. "I had fun. It's just time for me to leave."

He could feel Regulus draw in air in preparation for the coming argument, but, for once, Sirius didn't press for him to stay. Instead he softly stroked a finger over the squirming Harry's little cheeks.

"You seem to have that in comon, you and him."

"Yeah", Regulus looked surprisedly at him, before allowing himself a small smile "yeah, I guess."

my-castles-crumbling

out - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - word count: 187

Sirius stared, blinking rapidly. "What the fuck is this?" he asked, gesturing between James and Regulus, who were curled up on a couch together.

James, at least, had the good sense to look abashed, but Regulus didn't even look up. "We're dating now," he drawled, eyes on his book.

Sirius felt his mouth fall open. "You're–what?" he gaped at his best friend. "James, since when're you even gay?"

The taller boy winced and glanced back. "Um...right. Sorry. Turns out I like blokes."

Remus, who was standing beside Sirius and stifling a laugh, burst into a fit of mirth.

Sirius rounded on his own boyfriend, infuriated. "Moony, what the fuck?"

"Sorry! Sorry, s'just..." Remus gestured to Regulus who still hadn't looked up, and James, who looked sheepish. "Have you ever heard of a more James Potter way to come out?"

Sirius glanced back to his friend, then to Remus, then to James again, finally relenting just a little. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "I hate you, mate," he said good-naturedly, plopping down on the couch next to James and pulling Remus with him.

my-castles-crumbling

airport - hollanov - @hollanovbingo - word count: 322 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3

Shane nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw 'Lily' appear on his phone screen.

It probably wouldn't have been nearly as surprising if he hadn't been sitting staring at his screen, but that was another story.

"Hel–hey," he answered, swallowing all the eagerness he could, fighting to sound casual as he answered the call.

"Hello," Ilya replied, sounding anxious. "I am–I am at Boston airport. Just got through security. Um. Flight is on time."

He could have texted Shane that information, but neither of them pointed that out.

"Ah–good," Shane nodded jerkily, relief and terror flooding him in equal measure. Fuck. Ilya was actually doing this. Flying here. Coming to Shane's cottage.

"Man at security tried to–what is it called? Frisk me? But I told them I already have other plans for someone to touch my dick," Ilya continued, a little smile in his tone, now.

Despite his nerves, Shane snorted. "Shut up," he muttered, shaking his head fondly.

Silence.

"You are...ah...still picking me up?"

Shane gulped, looking around. "Yeah. Um...if you still want me to, that is. If it's too...weird, or whatever, I can get a car service, or see if there's taxis, or, um maybe there's public transpor–"

"Hollander."

"Yeah?"

"I want you to."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay."

Silence.

"You will be there on time?"

He bristled. "Yeah, Rozanov, I'll be there on time!"

Ilya laughed. "I am just saying! You probably have to leave soon, yes? You don't want to be late."

Shane frowned, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're right, I should...yeah."

"Okay."

Silence.

"I will see you soon, Shane."

Fuck. It wasn't fair how much that made him smile. "See you, Ilya," he murmured.

When the line went dead, he sighed, looking out his car window to the deserted airport parking lot, where he'd already been waiting for half an hour.

Yeah....he definitely wouldn't be late.

my-castles-crumbling

svetlana - hollanov - @hollanovbingo - word count: 183 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3

"You told him what?" Svetlana asked, eyes wide and an incredulous smile on her face.

"I...I said that I could marry you," Ilya repeated casually, shrugging as he looked into his phone's camera while they facetimed, still a bit unsure as to what he'd done so wrong.

"Ilya. Ilyusha. Ilya," Svetlana repeated, shaking her head slowly and closing her eyes, looking like she was very close to either laughing or yelling.

"Sveta," he shot back, smirking just a little. "What? What is wrong with this? It's the truth, right? You would marry me."

"Not if you propose like that," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "But tell me, what happened? How did your genius plan end?" Her tone was sarcastic; clearly she thought things'd ended terribly. Showed how much she knew about Hollander.

He grinned wider, unable to hold back his utter glee. "I have a boyfriend now. I am staying here for four extra weeks."

For a few long moments, she stared, blinking, utterly shocked. Then she sighed an exhausted sigh. "Boys are so stupid," she mumbled.

But Ilya just kept beaming.

my-castles-crumbling

home - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 350 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3 - takes place shortly before TLG

Ilya had done a lot of interviews in his life.

He'd been asked a lot of questions–some stupid, some prying, many repetitive, and many that he'd asked people to repeat.

But as he sat in a squishy armchair in Harris's office, he honestly thought that he'd never enjoyed an interview more.

Well...

Maybe some of the interviews he'd done with Shane. But he wasn't about to admit that.

They were laughing together about the team's abysmal choices in vodka, about Dykstra's terrible taste in music, about how Coach Weibe was terrible at giving directions when they took the team bus anywhere–and Ilya felt relaxed. Happy.

Then, Harris said cheerfully, "Okay, Ilya. Now we're going to do something a little silly, but the fans always love it. I'm gonna say a word, and you have to say the first thing that comes to mind when you hear it, alright? No thinking, just go."

He grinned. "And if my responses are not appropriate for...young, impressionable audience?"

Harris chuckled. "That's why we're not live."

Ilya smirked. Of course Harris didn't trust him to do any of the Centaurs' livestreams. "Okay,” he agreed.

"Hockey."

"Winning," Ilya replied quickly, grinning at the camera. "Always."

Harris laughed. "Alright. Goal."

"Rozanov," Ilya shot back, still beaming.

The other man chuckled again. "Okay. Gym."

"Water bottle," Ilya replied before thinking better of it, his mind instantly going back to a moment ten years ago in a dingy hotel gym with two stationary bikes and two nervous teenagers.

But the answer was acceptable and innocent enough, so Harris moved on.

"Food."

"Uh...Pasta."

"Happy."

"Summer."

"Home."

"Shane."

It took Ilya about two seconds after he spoke to realize what he'd said and freeze, eyes widening as he stared, terrified, at Harris.

But the man just looked at him, understanding and kindness in his eyes. "....you...want me to delete that part, buddy?" he asked carefully, reaching to press a hand to Ilya's slightly-trembling knee before leaning back again.

Ilya inhaled, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before nodding sharply. "Uh, yes. Maybe. I think would be best."

my-castles-crumbling

home - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 525 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3

English, in Ilya's opinion, was an absolutely ridiculous language.

Though he'd been studying it for some time now, taking classes in Russia during his childhood and practicing with the other Russians hoping to be drafted, the stupid language seemed to always fuck with him.

There were rules of the language, yes, but they always had exceptions. Words with definitions, but then phrases that made absolutely no sense. Things that sounded the same but meant basically the opposite.

Yes, English was, at it's core, really fucking annoying. Which was why he often had to ask Svetlana about certain stupid words.

"What is the difference," he asked one day as they lay together, skin sticky and chests heaving, some stupid American soap opera on the TV in the background, "between the two words 'house' and 'home?'"

Svetlana, who was already scrolling on her phone, looked over to him. "What?"

"Americans use these both," he explained bluntly, gesturing to the TV, where one of the characters had just said one of the terms. "'I am going to my home. I am going to my house.' Why? What is the difference?" he pushed, the thought taking root in his brain.

Svetlana blinked, tilting her head to the side in thought. "There is not a big difference, not really. It's just...a feeling, I think."

He frowned, frustrated. "A feeling? I thought both mean where you live, no?"

"Yes. But also, 'home' is like...it does not need to be so defined by locations. It is just any safe place. Where you are happy and loved," she explained simply, staring for a few seconds before looking back to her phone.

Ilya's frown deepened. He thought about his family house, in Russia. The dark shadows, the loud voices, the pressure that seemed to push down from every available surface.

It was not, it seemed, a home.

And he thought about his place in Boston.

Welcoming, yes. Bright and distinctly his own. But...empty. In a way he couldn't exactly describe.

It didn't seem to fit the English definition for 'home,' either.

Did he have a home?

Would he ever?

"English is stupid," he murmured, rolling away and reaching for his own phone, pleased to find a text from 'Jane' waiting for him.

"Ilya? What're you doing?" Shane called to him, his voice travelling out the doorway and onto the porch, where Ilya crouched, fussing with the mat he was placing by the front door.

"I am here!" he called back, not looking up from his work. It was silly, usually perfectionism was Shane's thing, but for some reason, he really needed this to look perfect.

Footsteps clued him into his husband's arrival. So, standing up and brushing off his hands, Ilya stepped back, admiring his work."What do you think?" he asked Shane, who'd stepped outside to stand next to him and look down at the mat.

"Welcome to our home," Shane read aloud, grinning. "I like it. You can get something in Russian though, if you want. I don't mind."

"Ah, no," he replied, doing his best not to collapse with happiness. "I think it is perfect how it is."

lulublack90

Prompt 11 - Concentrate

Wolfstar June 11, word count 287

Previous part First part

Padfoot moved away from Remus’s side and transformed into Sirius.

“Mr Black,” McGonagall said, not the least bit surprised that Sirius was now standing where Padfoot had been moments before.

“Hello, Minnie.”

She pursed her lips the same way she always did when he dared to call her Minnie.

“Mr Black—”

“Your memories, if you will, Sirius,” Dumbledore cut her off, and Sirius moved toward the headmaster.

“Which ones?” he asked, watching Dumbledore with weary eyes.

“Let’s start with when you cast the Fidelius charm.”

Sirius closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate. Remus watched as a single silvery tear pooled at the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek. Dumbledore greedily collected it with the tip of his wand and moved with haste to the pensieve. He dropped the memory into the basin and readied himself to enter.

“Wait!” Remus said, taking a step forward. “I want to see it too.”

“As do I,” McGonagall added, striding across the room, her robes flicking dangerously around a spindly table and nearly upsetting it.

“I shall allow it,” Dumbledore nodded once and made room for them all.

“Are you coming?” Remus asked Sirius. Sirius had folded his arms across his chest, picking at the skin through his thin robes, but shook his head.

“Just relived it, don’t fancy seeing it again.”

Remus reached out and squeezed his arm, stilling his fingers.

“Get us out if anyone comes and then hide yourself.” He pulled Sirius close and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before joining Dumbledore and McGonagall around the pensieve. He looked into the silver liquid, took a deep breath and plunged his head into it, feeling himself tip forward and fall into Sirius’s memory.

lulublack90

Prompt 11 - Rainbow

@wolfstarmicrofic June 11, word count 542

“CASSIE!!!” Sirius shouted up the stairs. “IT’S DINNER TIME!!! GET DOWN HERE!!!” Cassie didn’t answer, but he heard a bang, so he guessed she’d heard him.

“She’s coming,” he told Remus as he dished up their dinner. Lasagne, Sirius’s favourite. They sat down and started without their daughter. Cassie rocked up ten minutes later when Remus was already halfway through his seconds and eyeing up what was left for thirds.

“Hello, darling,” Remus grinned at his daughter as she pulled out her seat.

“Hi Daddy, this looks amazing.”

“Cassie, light of my life, the best thing to happen to me apart from Remus, my angel on earth, what’s with all the black?” Sirius gestured to her outfit, which was black from top to bottom. Her nails were black, her jewellery was black, and her makeup was black. Now don’t get him wrong, she looked stunning, the black making her pale skin look even paler; any more, and Remus might have to excuse himself lest her moonlight skin start a werewolf transformation.

“Leave me alone, Dad! Just because you and Daddy run around like bloody rainbows doesn’t mean the rest of us do as well,” Cassie huffed, taking a huge bite from her lasagne.

Sirius looked down at what he was wearing. A blue shirt and black jeans. Then at Remus; grey cardigan, blue shirt and a pair of nice trousers. He narrowed his eyes at his husband’s shirt. Shit, they were wearing the same shirt again!

“You look like your uncle,” Sirius told her, feeling suddenly sad.

“What? Like Uncle James?” Cassie said in horror.

“No, you dolt. Like your Uncle Reggie.”

Relief crossed Cassie’s face.

“Thank Merlin, because Uncle James has zero fashion sense.”

Sirius couldn’t disagree. Even with Lily’s help, James was a disaster. “I’m going to a black and white party, alright?” Cassie confessed. “But I’m not sure if this is working. Maybe I’ll go and find something else.”

“Cassiopeia Lupin-Black, don’t you dare put yourself down. You are beautiful inside and out. You look utterly amazing in what you’re wearing now, and if anyone says anything to the contrary, I’ll send your Daddy after them.”

Cassie jumped out of her chair and threw herself at Sirius.

“I love you, Dad,” she sniffled in his ear.

“I love you too, more than I can ever say,” he replied, his voice getting a bit squeaky as he hugged her tighter.

They finally pulled away, wiping the tears from their eyes. “Would you like to borrow my leather jacket to complete the look?” Sirius asked, and Cassie’s entire face lit up.

“Really? Are you sure? Yes, please!”

Sirius summoned it and slipped it on over his daughter’s shoulders.

“Perfect,” he said, smiling teary-eyed at her.

“Thanks, Dad. See you both in the morning,” Cassie said, waving at them as she left the house.

“That was very nice of you, sweetheart,” Remus said, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulling him against his chest.

“I already regret it,” he said, pulling out of Remus’s arms and running to the door.

“DO NOT LOSE THAT JACKET!!! DO NOT SPILL ANYTHING ON IT!!!! IN FACT, CASSIE, BRING IT BACK. I CHANGED MY MIND!!! CASSIE!!!! CASS!!!! DAMN IT, CASSIE, YOU’RE SUCH A LITTLE ME!!!!

lulublack90

Prompt 11 - Out

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic June 11, Word count 668

Previous part First part

An hour had elapsed by the time they made it out of bed and back into James’s flat. Sirius wasn’t up yet. James went to check on him while Reg started mixing the batter for the pancakes.

“Hey, Pads?” James asked as he knocked on the door. He didn’t get an answer, so he tried again. “Pads? Can I come in?” Still nothing. James opened the door and found a balled-up duvet on the bed and nothing else. “Sirius?” He called out, coming back out to check the bathroom, but that too was empty. Where had he gone?

James’s phone pinged, and he ripped it from his pocket. It was a message from Sirius.

‘Hey, sorry, I had to go. Work stuff. I tried knocking on Reggie’s door, but no one answered. See you when I see you.’

He’d gone? Sirius never left early, never. One time, Sirius stayed at James’s for a month longer than the one night he said he’d stay. Not that James had minded. He loved Sirius and would have lived with him if not for Remus coming along. He never would have met Reg if he hadn’t.

“Sirius had to go,” he told Reg as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Oh,” was all Reg said. James caught the flash of hurt on Reg’s face before he turned his expression into a scowl. “More pancakes for us then.”

Once they’d eaten and tidied up, they were at a bit of a loss for what to do. Reg seemed distracted, staring into space a lot.

“Do you want me to give you his number?” James asked. Reg turned on him.

“Why would I want that?” he snapped. “What? Trying to blame me for what happened last night? How was I supposed to know he was into puppy play? It’s not like I upset him on purpose. He could have stuck around, and we could have talked about it, but he did exactly what he always does when things get difficult. He got out of here as fast as his legs could carry him. He did it when I was fifteen, and he’s doing it again now. Suppose I’ll see him in another decade,” Reg scoffed and went back to staring at the wall, his jaw tense and his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“He’ll be back, I promise, love. But for now…” James picked up Reg’s phone, held it up to Reg’s face to unlock it and saved Sirius’s number in his contacts. “It’s there if you want to message him, or delete it. It’s up to you.”

Reg took his phone back, let out a long uneven breath and started typing. James gave him his privacy, but once Reg was done and the whoosh of an outgoing message filled the silence, he moved closer to James and leaned into him. “Everything will be fine,” he said, wrapping an arm around Reg’s shoulders and pulling him even closer.

“I hope so,” Reg said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to push him so much. He just brings out that side of me. We’ve always teased each other, but that’s the first time he’s taken it so badly. The first time I’ve ever gone too far.”

“You didn’t know, love. I didn’t know. I had no idea,” James sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. “I’ll check in with Remus, just so he knows what’s going on, and if anyone can help him through this, it will be Remus.”

“Not you?” Reg asked, his tone curious.

“Sirius is my brother, but Remus knows him in a way I never will. Besides, if Sirius really is into, you know, then Remus either already knows, or it might be something he ought to know.” He didn’t know what else to say. They were all hurting, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He picked up the TV remote and turned it on, taking their minds off it all, at least for a little while.

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