First off, I hope your and your daughter's health are well! I know from experience the feeling of having a sick child, my 9 months son caught a cold recently and now we both are coughing and with sore throats. I hope you two are well now!
Second, I hate to see good writers being stressed out with deadlines or expectations both from themselves or from readers. Often enough that means the writer will burn out soon or go on hiatus, simply because they need to decompress, get a break and not to think about satisfying other people when don't have the muse, the time or the need to. I wanted to give you a friendly reminder to disconnect when needed and publish when feel it.
Also, HOLD UP!!! RICKMASS? ARE YOU FOR REAL?! I'm screaming right now. Not many writers write for Rickman himself, to be honest I haven't seen much if any here on tumblr. The first and only that comes to my mind is @rickmandowneyjr and she's brilliant!
I would be beyond happy to see you write something for Alan himself and a female reader. Its not a request, just a wish of mine. Whether you do it or not is up to you.
Okay, I have to already finish this because my son is getting fuzzy and I lost the track of my thoughts anyway.
Bye🧡 ( and more happy endings! 😄)
Hi darling! ❤
Yes our health is well, my daughter's cold is gone and she's her regular "full speed ahead can't sit still for a second" self 😅👍 It's just my cold that lingers ^^
Yeah, I know, I can feel that right now. so I'm trying to pace myself and make sure I don't hit a wall again. It's not worth it when I am finally able to work towards my life dream and goal. Unfortunately, I've noticed that if I miss a day of publishing then my interactions and readings dip by about 50% - every time. And it adds to the stress even though it shouldn't. I just feel like I'm letting you guys down, even though I publish on schedule most of the time and I don't know many huge series (like my Death's Judge series) that get's updated so often and regularly. Two times a week is a lot when a chapter is like 5-8k 😂
YES! I WILL BE DOING RICKMAS THIS YEAR! I don't think anyone has ever done it and I got the idea about two months ago to do that instead of Snapemas to give more ppl a chance to tag along since it would be all of Alan's characters and the man himself obviously. I've seen a lot of ppl write about Alan himself but that's not my thing. Characters I feel are up for grabs but and actual person I feel is too private and personal. I don't know, I wouldn't want anyone writing fics about me for example. So I won't be writing anything about Alan himself (sorry). ❤
I'm really grateful for your care darling, it means a lot to see your support like this. Thank you ❤❤❤
I hope you're doing well and all good things to you darling 🥰❤
Hi! Will you be doing Snapemass this year? Also, I'm really sad to read that you won't be finishing Snapetober, I was dying for a part 2 to the Regret promt 🥺
Anyway, I hope you and your little girl are doing fine and everything's okay!🧡
Hi there! ♥️
Oh, darling, I'll see what I can do about a part two for it since you ask so nicely 🥰♥️ I'll also be doing the Vampire one, so two more I'll get together for you! ♥️ (I really wanted to do each prompt separately but I just don't have the time. I'm working 100% while writing my Turpin series as well at high speed and trying to be as social and present as I possibly can, answering all comments and asks and DMs and tags and everything you darlings send me - it always makes me so happy that you interact with me as a writer and as a friend - and I'm really frustrated about not being able to finish Snapetober. 🥺
I am working on a prompt list for December but it won't be Snapemas, it will be Rickmas instead this year 😉 So all characters portrayed by Alan (and Alan himself) will be up for portrayal this year.
I do not know how much I myself can participate since I'm literally stressing out. I haven't said it before, openly like this, but I've been so stressed I haven't been able to sleep and been having some stomach ache and stuff over it even though I know I shouldn't... I do put out roughly 10k of fanfic every week for you to read but I still feel like it's not enough and that I need to do more even though logically I shouldn't even do that much considering I'm trying to write my own original work to become a published author so I can actually live my dream so to speak... 🥺👉🏻👈🏻♥️ (And fanfic is free, it doesn't make me any money apart from a few donations I've received from some lovely ppl who supports my goal of publishing my own works.)
BUT THERE WILL AT THE VERY LEAST BE A RICKMAS THIS YEAR - I'll make sure to get a prompt list up by the end of November 🥰👏🏻♥️
Thank you so much for this ask and for your sweet care, it really warms my heart ♥️♥️♥️
minerva mcgonagall's personal mission to make severus love christmas masterpost
the years between (1985) // severus and minerva friendship // inspired by deepperplexity's snapemas and blog4snape's snoliday writing prompts //
current word count: 15,938
content tags: fluff and angst, friendship, christmas, ptsd/panic attacks, plotless ramblings, hot mess 25 year old severus snape refuses to talk about his feelings, minerva is a saint, the hogwarts staff commits shenanigans
So after writing yesterday's prompt, I figured I could kinda continue it with this one. ^-^
@deepperplexity
It had been 4 days after the whole incident, 4 days after Petunia patched him up, 4 days after she kissed his cheek, and 4 days of Severus not being able to sleep.
"Severus what's wrong you look like you haven't sleep in days?"
'Because I haven't' Severus thought but shook his head "It's nothing I'm fine" He said
"You are not fine, now talk to me"
Severus looked at Lily who stared at him with concern. He sighed and fell backwards onto her bed "4 days ago I beat up Petunia's boyfriend"
"You did what?! Why!"
"Because he was being an ass to her! He keep trying to touch her even tho she said no, luckily I was wondering through alleyways like I always do and I came across them" He stated as he stared at the ceiling
Lily let out a startled gasp and stared at Severus in shock "That bastard, Oh save thank you for saving my sister!" She shouted and threw herself onto Sev for a hug.
Severus hugged back "I'm not done, afterwards I walked her and she noticed my hands were bruised and a bit cut and bloody so she offered to patch me up" He spoke, Lily hummed so that he knew she was still listening to him "After she finished she hugged me one last time then kissed my cheek" He said the last part quietly but Lily still heard him.
"My sister kissed you?" She asked in surprise, Severus simply nodded his face turning red.
"Is that why you haven't sleep cause she kissed you?"
Severus nodded again
"Do you like her?"
Severus practically leapt out of the bed "No!" he shouted out "No- maybe- I don't know!"
Lily giggled "Aww! My best friend has a crush, tho it's on my sister, it's still cute" She stated happily
"She kissed my cheek to say thank you" Severus muttered "She doesn't like me"
"But You hope she does which is why you haven't been able to sleep for four days straight"
Severus sighed and fell back onto the bed "I hate my life" he said but it was muffled by the pillow his face was buried in.
"Don't worry Sev, I'll help you out. I know my sister better then anyone before you know it you and Petunia will be snogging to your hearts content" She said while gently poking at his side.
Severus blushed deeply and tossed a pillow at Lily who simply laughed at her friends reaction. He was happy Lily was willing to help him, he just hoped Lily didn't plan to do anything crazy.
minerva mcgonagall’s personal mission to make severus love christmas part 5
aka snolidays/snapemas day 11 and 12 (hot chocolate, baking) // pre-PS/the years between. minerva and severus friendship // content warning: panic attack and mentions of lily potter. i feel like this should be considered a snapetober entry oops. word count: 4287 @blog4snape
The night ended with more hot chocolate as the five stood together and watched a choreography of lights move above the pond, creating elves loading a sack full of gifts onto the outline of a waiting sleigh, watched it become glowing reindeer pulling it off the ground, rising in height and getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared and the light show began again.
It felt like magic and he refused to believe none was involved.
He fell asleep fully clothed that night, contentment and milk chocolate running through his veins as he begrudgingly made another mark on the imaginary scorecard.
Minerva was definitely winning.
Saturday was spent finishing the potions for the infirmary, bottling and stoppering the dozens of phials, and methodically scrubbing the cauldrons clean as he read from a book hovering above the wash basin, the pages turning with a flick of his head.
He dropped the potions off at the hospital wing, secretly pleased that Poppy was far too busy with a floo call to a student’s parents to bother giving him more than a thankful nod and a wave of her hand. He didn’t mind their conversations, but when three students were laid up sick on starched cots, Severus preferred to be as far away from the infestation as possible.
He spent the night reading, a cup of tea in hand, the soft glow of candlelight nearby to illuminate the words of one of the books he had picked up from Diagon Alley.
Sunday morning found him sprawled out on the couch in his living quarters, fully dressed once again, with the candles snuffed and the book astray, the teacup still nestled between a cushion and his thigh.
He spent the day holed up in his office with a correcting quill, the stack of essays he kept putting off, and no less than four packets of crisps. It was dinnertime by the time he finished reading all the scrolls of parchment, his fingers cramping and eyes bleary. He had the beginning of a headache forming, but the grading was nearly caught up on.
The remainder were short-answer questions, at least.
He wasn’t sure he could sit through another stack of eighteen inch essays for at least another month.
Perhaps two.
The crisps had made him nauseous, so rather than attending dinner in the Great Hall, he flooed into the staff lounge and helped himself to his precious french press that had been left behind. As the coffee grounds soaked, he glanced around the room and took in the stockings.
There were some new additions.
There were his and Minerva’s - white, cable-knitted with fur trim, bearing their names embroidered in black thread - but also a bright blue with Filius’ initials, a pastel-pink made from crushed velvet with Pomona’s name spelled out in tiny yellow flowers, a black with silver snowflakes bearing Aurora’s family crest, and a neon orange war crime that could only belong to the headmaster.
All of them had candy canes peeking out.
There was a tree in the corner now - a tall, proud-looking noble fir - looking like an oversized houseplant when it was devoid of lights and decorations. He finished making his coffee and sat down at the round table, eyeing it carefully.
The rest of the castle was still surprisingly devoid of holiday decorations, but if this tree had already arrived, it was only a matter of time before the rest of it started creeping in. Soon enough, the place would look like a tinsel factory had exploded inside of it and the number of trees within the castle walls would put the Forbidden Forest to shame.
He scowled at the thought.
Later, he realized he had spoken too soon.
Monday morning brought a fresh shower of snowflakes, a drop in temperature, and about thirty-six douglas firs into the Great Hall. These were already decked out with lights, ribbon, and colorful baubles. Some of the trees had clearly chosen sides, cheerily standing tall with the weight of red and gold ornaments, while others were laden with green and silver, blue and bronze, or gold and black.
Garland clung to the old brick, neatly tied with red ribbon and perfect pinecones, spaced out above the portraits and high, arched windows.
He didn’t want to think about the rest of the castle.
There was white chocolate peppermint tea waiting for him at the staff table, so he conceded that not everything that morning was absolutely terrible.
Tuesday was a bad potions day.
Not for him as a brewer, of course, but as a professor.
By the time both his classes ended, eight different cauldrons had either melted, exploded, or absolutely disintegrated without a trace. He lost a full jar of moonstones because one student had decided to bring the entire fucking container to her table rather than count them out beforehand like he had advised, and it had taken all his self-control to stop himself from breaking down right in front of the class of sixth years.
He had collected those moonstones himself, wandering the Forbidden Forest all fucking night, with only a lantern to light the way. They were supposed to last him at least another two months before he would need to venture out again - and the last time he had gone out, he’d nearly sprained his ankle on an upturned root and gotten a tree branch to the fucking face.
Tuesday evening found him four drinks in, asking the house elves to please bring him some hot, salty chips from a local shop, and when the darling little elf returned with the newspaper cone, he babbled stupidly for two solid minutes from gratitude alone.
Wednesday was a headache, a blur of back-to-back classes, a lot of frustrated yelling at completely inept students, a full pot of that wonderful white chocolate peppermint tea, and a sudden decision to not assign any more homework for the rest of the year.
Not because the awful little slimeballs deserved a break, but because he did.
The elves made mushroom and wild rice soup for dinner, alongside everything else they always made, and Severus took more comfort than usual in the hot meal.
Wednesday night was his turn to patrol the castle, so he stayed up half the night wandering the empty corridors. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he entered the Astronomy Tower, groaning as he realized Aurora was still there, carefully packing away her supplies post-lesson.
“Oh, don’t act like you aren’t glad to see me.”
“Believe me when I say I’m not.” Severus returned, stepping to the edge and looking over the grounds. Most of it was cloaked by shadows, but the silver light from the moon was still enough to softly make out the silhouettes of the greenhouses and Hagrid’s little hut. “What, no comment on how I’m out past my bedtime?”
Aurora laughed, putting a bronze telescope back into its case and fiddling with the straps. “Not this time, no.” She glanced up at him and warned: “But don’t you ever make me miss out on family dinner again or you will regret it.”
Thursday morning he slept in.
He barely had enough time to pull on his teaching robes and run fingers through his hair before he had to hightail it to his classroom, frazzled and out of breath. He hadn’t had time to prepare the chalkboard the day before, and was quickly writing out the recipe in his messy scrawl, when the seventh years started filtering in.
“Alright, you’re going to need number three pewter cauldrons today,” he called out over his shoulder, finishing the last line of script. “Fill them with two liters of room temperature water and put your burners on low. Today we’re going to be brewing a more complex -”
“Professor?”
He scowled at the interruption. “What is it, Mr. Greenwood.”
“I think your robe might be inside out.”
He blinked and tried not to let his face flush with embarrassment. “Thank you, now as I was saying -” he continued awkwardly, shrugging out of his robe and flipping the sleeves inside out.
“Your shirt buttons are fucked up too.”
“Language!” he scolded, swallowing down the sharp coil of emotion building at the back of his throat. “And do not speak to me like that.”
“Hey, you’re the one walking in here, unprepared, with your clothes all fucked.” Greenwood muttered. “Just what were you up to before class, sir?” he grinned, his comment eliciting a few chuckles.
“Detention, Greenwood.”
“Now, wait a second!” the boy faltered.
“Do you wish to make it two?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he raised an eyebrow in questioning contempt. “Because we can surely arrange that.”
“No, sir.”
“Good.”
He finished the lesson on autopilot, quickly fixing the buttons on his shirt in the supply closet, fingers shaking nervously as he muttered angrily to himself. He shrugged back into his robes, double-checking they weren’t inside out again, and downed a calming draught on a whim - the shiny light blue bottle catching his eye from its place on the shelf - before returning to his desk.
He made sure to scowl at each of them in turn and surprisingly enough, not another student made an unwarranted comment about his appearance, his teaching, or even each other. It kept him from reaching for another calming draught when he felt its effects lifting.
Friday found him having a panic attack.
Then again, if no one opened the door to the broom closet he had squandered in, if no one came face-to-face with his crouched down, fingers tangled in his hair, not-quite-yet-out-of-breath, full body trembling self, could anyone really prove he was having an anxiety attack?
He’d barely made it through his second class and had dismissed the second years twenty minutes early, sans homework - and oh, Merlin, they were going to think he'd gone soft - before attempting to return to his personal quarters.
It didn’t quite work out as planned.
His knees had felt shaky and he’d felt as if something were gripping at his throat, pressing down on his lungs, and he had to sit down and ground himself before he had a full-on breakdown in the middle of the corridor. He’d found himself stumbling, as he hid behind the closest doorway, the tidal wave of unchecked emotions too much.
His resolve was breaking.
He tried to focus on his Occlumency shields, tried to push back the unfiltered pain and fear he refused to think about - could not think about - because if he did, he was afraid he would never be able to function again. He was afraid he would break.
The dam was already broken though and now, now the rest of it felt inevitable.
Now he was simply gasping for breath, tears welling in his eyes that he refused to let fall, sitting on the floor of a dusty broom closet, bathed in the dull yellow light that flared whenever it sensed movement, like some sort of spotlight - a beacon honing in on him, existing solely to put his downfall on display.
Far too many thoughts were flitting around his head, crashing into each other and making it difficult to tell them apart, to pinpoint just what had been the trigger, the reason behind his weakness - because surely, that’s what this was right now: weakness.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor and he tried his best to muffle his ragged gasps, hand curled into a fist and pressed into his mouth, teeth sinking into the pale flesh, threatening to break through from the force he was using, so desperate he was to not make a sound.
It didn’t work.
The footsteps paused, their owner faltering.
Voices were speaking from the other side, hushed and mumbled, and with another stroke of panic, Severus realized they belonged to more than one. Students, most likely, and he curled tighter into himself, vehemently wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“Are you okay?” a hesitant voice traveled through the aged wood.
He didn’t answer, but he figured his breaths were answer enough.
“Are you having a panic attack?” a different voice called out, sounding just as unsure as the first. “It sounds like you’re really struggling.”
“Do you need help?”
“They probably can’t answer, dummy.” a third voice spoke up, but this one wasn’t addressing him. They were all familiar, but his brain wasn’t letting him process anything to fruition. “Hey, if you can hear us knock on the door.”
He considered ignoring them, but in the end he knocked.
“Good!” the first voice praised. “Alright, knock if we were right about the panic attack.”
Again, he knocked.
“Do you want help?” the second student asked. “I’ve helped my share of students through these.” He suddenly recognized Casper Jenkin’s voice, one of his seventh year Slytherin prefects.
He groaned; as if this situation could get any worse.
“I’m gonna take that as a no.” Oliver Greenwood’s voice muttered, so apparently yes, it could get worse. He was stumbled upon by his own snakes - and his disrespecting seventh years, at that.
“Do you want us to get someone?” Allison Bone, the original speaker, questioned. “Madam Pomfrey or your Head of House? If you’re all the way down here, you’re probably a Slytherin, huh?”
He choked out a laugh at that.
“Laughing!” Bone approved. “Laughing is good! That means you’re getting control of your breathing. The worst part of it is over now.”
“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Jenkin told him, and the doorknob started turning. “It’s probably pretty cramped in there - definitely won’t help.”
“Don’t!” he let out, just as the door opened and he found himself blinking up at his snakes, the three of them blinking down at him, equally dumbfounded, and he wanted to scream at whatever joke of a higher being had shifted the cards enough to lead him here.
“Oh!”
“Professor Snape?!”
He lifted a shaky hand to his face, brushing back disheveled locks of hair. “Get out.” he whispered, low and angry, not caring about the semantics that it technically didn’t apply.
“Are you sure you don’t need -” Bone started, then faltered at the growing expression on his face. “Right, we’re leaving.”
Greenwood eyed him a second longer than his companions, but rather than the teasing glint he usually held whenever addressing him in class, he wore something softer. “Sorry.” he mouthed, genuine concern flickering for a brief moment before he also left.
He put his head in his hands and started laughing, softly at first, but when it became an ugly sob, he fought to regain his composure, nails digging into his scalp.
He managed a deep breath, wiped his face on the sleeve of his robe, and hurried to his personal quarters. He was moving on autopilot now, slipping out of his teaching robes and into a jumper, grabbing a bit of floo powder and calling out a quiet, “may I come through?” when the flames turned a brilliant green.
He stepped into Minerva’s quarters, bypassing her concerned look and collapsed onto the old couch, pointedly ignoring her as he stared at the vaulted ceiling.
“Severus?”
“Panic attack.” he mumbled.
He remained silent after that, listening to the rustling of parchment and paper, the soft scribbling of a quill nib making its way across the page. For a few minutes, that was the only sound, until suddenly Minerva stood up and opened up the floo. Hushed voices followed, then silence, and he finally sat up when he heard the distinct pop of a house elf apparating into the room.
Dorset, one of the school elves most identifiable by his height, was balancing a tray on one hand and a heavy-looking box on the other. He placed both on the kitchen table, nodded at the two, and apparated away.
“What’s this?” Severus asked, his voice gravelly and tired, as he stood up and approached the table.
The box was filled with an assortment of items - butter, eggs, icing sugar, flour, and the like. He could see a bag full of dirigible plums sitting right on top and he smiled despite himself. The tray was holding two ceramic mugs, their contents hidden by the mountain of whipped cream and cinnamon they were topped with.
“Sit down with me.” Minerva said simply, picking up the tray and bringing it to the couch. She sat down at one end, placing the cups on the coffee table, and waited. When he sat down, facing her, she handed him a warm mug. “I asked for hot chocolate.” she told him, eyeing him carefully. “Specifically the gingerbread one we had last week.”
“I liked that one.” Severus mumbled, staring down at his cup.
“I know.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping on their hot chocolate, and Severus could feel his anxiety slowly ebb away as it was replaced by warm comfort.
“You look awful.” she finally spoke up.
He smiled ruefully, but it felt more like a grimace. “I appreciate the honesty.”
“Have you noticed, how every time you experience feelings of distress, someone always tends to interrupt before we can talk?” she asked, watching him. “I think we’ve been putting it off long enough, don’t you think?”
“No.”
“We never got to talk about Yaxley.”
“We didn’t need to.”
“We also never finished our conversation about how you ask for my company whenever you venture out of the castle.”
Severus gripped his mug tightly. “You said enough.”
“You still flinch when people touch you.”
“Can you blame me?”
Minerva paused, studying him in a way that left him feeling exposed. “They’re all connected.”
He kept silent.
Her next words were unexpected. “What about Lily?”
“What about her?” he growled out, anger taking hold and manifesting into shaking hands. He swallowed down the bile he could feel rising, the taste of milk and chocolate suddenly acrid on his tongue.
“You never talk about her.”
“That’s because I don’t have anything to say about her!” Severus finally yelled, nearly dropping his mug. He set it on the coffee table and balled his hands into fists, refusing to break eye contact with the professor before him. “Lily died four years ago, but she stopped being my friend long before that! Do you want to talk about the guilt I carry, knowing it was my fault she died? Because no amount of talking, nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for the fact that I killed my best friend! And I hate myself for that, but Merlin, do I hate her too.”
“Do you?”
“Yes!” he burst out, the words he could never dare himself to say aloud now slipping off his tongue without trouble. “She was my best friend and then she sided with them, with him, after what he did to me! And that’s when I knew she was never really my friend! She saw what he - what he did,” he was starting to gasp for air again, “and she still, she - he -”
He focused on steadying his breathing, arms wrapped around his torso.
“I don’t.” Severus finally amended, in such a soft voice he wasn’t sure it even carried. “I want to hate her so much - and I am so angry at her, angrier than I’ve ever been at anyone - but I don’t hate her. I can’t. Maybe I wasn’t her friend, in the end, but I know she was mine. I lost so many people in the war, but she’s the one who hurts the most, so no, I don’t want to talk about Lily.”
Minerva hummed. “You sort of already did.”
He scowled.
“Drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”
Some of his anger fizzled out as he finished the drink. When they were done, Minerva stood up and started pulling out the contents of the box, lining them up on the counter. He joined her, watching as she leafed through a cookbook he hadn’t noticed.
“We’re going to do some holiday baking now.”
“Are we?”
“If you’re not going to talk to me about what led to all this,” she gestured in his general direction, “then we’re going to bake some things for the staff party tomorrow.”
He nodded, sighing. “Where do you want me?”
They spent a few minutes in stilted silence, as he washed the bag of dirigible plums and cooked them down into a sauce, stirring in ground cardamom and honey. Meanwhile, Minerva whisked double cream and cornstarch with vanilla sugar and salt, the pot resting over low flames. He added the plum sauce and smiled as it came together and turned into the warm orange color he remembered.
“What next?” he inquired, after the thickened mix had been poured into a mold and tucked away in the cold cupboard.
“Biscuits?”
The sugar dough came together easily enough, pale yellow and perfectly smooth, and as they sprinkled flour over the table to roll it out, Severus started fiddling with the holiday cutters.
“I can hear you thinking.” Minerva spoke up a few minutes later, dusting her hands off on a clean towel. She reached for a tree-shaped cutter and started pressing it into the dough. “Are you ready to talk now?”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Sure you don’t.”
They finished cutting out all their shapes, moved their biscuits into the oven, and cleaned off the kitchen table. Minerva was opening small jars of sprinkles while Severus whisked together icing sugar and egg whites. He focused on dividing the royal icing into small bowls, adding droplets of colored dye and stirring carefully as if they were a temperamental potion, when he finally broached the earlier subject: “They are all connected.”
“Pardon?”
He didn’t look up, merely repeated himself. “They’re all connected.”
Minerva pulled the baking tray out of the oven and cast a cooling charm before bringing the perfectly baked biscuits to the table. Severus picked one up and absentmindedly broke it into pieces. He shared it with Min and picked up another biscuit, carefully dipping this one into the bowl of red icing and shaking off the excess.
He reached for the star sprinkles. “I try not to think about any of it.”
“You’ll have to, eventually.”
He thought about the broom closet. “I know.”
Minerva dipped a star biscuit into the bowl of yellow icing and handed it over to Severus, who immediately covered it with three different colors of sprinkles. They worked in tandem for a few minutes, dipping and sprinkling all their biscuits, and eventually a spoon was introduced to their project and Severus found himself drizzling thin stripes across some of them.
“I’m giving this one a Dreadful.” Minerva decided, picking up what was supposed to be an ornament, originally dipped in white icing, but then covered with uneven globs of blue.
“Fair enough.” Severus shrugged, levitating the dirty dishes and moving them to the wash basin, spelling the water on. He picked up a candy cane-shape that had been rolled in yellow and violet sprinkles and then drizzled with green. “This one, however, is deserving of a Troll.”
Minerva spelled the dishes to wash themselves and then raised an eyebrow at him. “Severus, you decorated that one.”
“I’m aware.”
The yule log cake was a little more time consuming to make. He sat down at the table and watched Minerva separate eggs and whisk the whites with sugar until it foamed.
“It would be faster if you spelled the whisk.” Severus offered.
“We tried that once.” Minerva laughed, not slowing down. “It worked great at first, but all of a sudden, the whisk was flinging meringue all over the room.”
“How delightful.”
Meringue was light and shiny and the brightest white he could imagine. Min filled a piping bag with the foam and showed him how to pipe little mushroom tops on the baking paper. When he took the bag from her, he was surprised to find it bore no weight.
“Do you not know how to hold a piping bag?”
“Evidently not.” he grumbled, looking at his hand and the fluff of meringue that had spilled out of the bag and over his hand.
“You’re supposed to hold the end closed, you numpty.”
“Numpty?” Severus muttered under his breath.
“Elphinstone always did the same thing.” Minerva shook her head, fixing the bag and finishing the job. “No matter how many times I corrected him, that man couldn’t hold it right. Always went off about how he’s the ministry liaison for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Min, I don’t need piping meringue mushrooms in my skill set.” She took in a shaky breath and set down the bag. “See? Perfect.”
“Min-”
“Don’t just stand there, Severus.” she scolded, thrusting the cookbook in his hands. “Get to work measuring the dry ingredients. You can make the cake while I make the frostings.”
He started sifting flour and cocoa powder. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”
“Of course I know that.” she humphed, putting the tray in the oven and spelling the dishes clean. She unwrapped a stick of butter and stared at him. “Do you know that?”
“Minerva, I only met your husband twice.” he deadpanned.
She flicked a bit of icing sugar at him. “Don’t be smart with me. I’m not the one repressing all my emotions and pretending they don’t exist until I can’t stave off the impending panic attack and end up crashing in my colleague's quarters because of it.”
“Fine, you win this one.” he muttered. “You are the pinnacle of mental health, professor.”
“Excellent.” Minerva grinned, but her smile seemed a little bitter. “Does this mean you’re going to talk to me now?”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Numpty.” she repeated.
----
a/n: i was in the mood for angst tm
also the ending feels a little rushed but it is 3am rip. im not gonna finish this series by christmas but my goal is new years. time exists in a vacuum anyway and is not real. ps. let me know what you think pls!! it gives me all the seratonin
A/N: So I am running out of time so I am sorry but this will be a short one as I did a long one yesterday - I still hope you'll enjoy it though! <3
Setting: Hogwarts, Snape's Dorm
Pairing: Snape x Reader (Year 6 or 7)
Word count: 1240
Warnings: Fluff
Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST
Christmas had arrived and you had gone home to your family. You had left Severus at Hogwarts with a sweet kiss before you had boarded the train that would take you away from him. It was hard, but you also missed your family and knew that time would fly by and you would soon be back with him at your second home, Hogwarts. But, you had left with a secret. Something he would find out about as he woke up on Christmas...
Severus shivered, the dorm was cold and as empty as could be. He twisted and turned as he did not quite want to wake up. For what was the point? Another lonesome Christmas and who knew, perhaps you had figured out you were better off without him when you returned from your wonderful family. He had no such thing, and did not know how a happy family looked. He did not know if he, in the future, could create such a thing for himself.
He sighed deeply as he looked up towards the ceiling. He felt miserable now that he could not see you, be close to you, hold your hand or kiss your soft lips. when you had left you had seemed different. He couldn't quite figure out why. But it felt, well it felt as if you knew something that would change things and he was not so sure he liked what that could mean. You had seemed sad and a bit strange. No, he did not enjoy it one bit. He was scared out of his mind that you'd return only to end it all. It was a constant fear, despite the fact you had been a pair for a couple of months now.
Eventually, he had to leave the comfort of his bed. He got up only to nearly stumble.
"Who the devil has left-" he said as he was prepared to shout at whoever had but their stuff in front of his bed. but when he looked down his voice silenced instantly as a gift laid there on the floor. Right by his bed. He arched a brow and bent down to pick it up.
To my Prince.
With love, (y/n).
It was the only thing that stood on the little note stuck to the thoroughly wrapped gift. His heart pounded as the feel of the wrapping against his hands felt slightly odd. He had never gotten a Christmas present, not a wrapped one at least that he could remember. He stared at your handwriting as it filled him with a sense of joy to see his name written by your hand.
Ha stepped over to his bed and sank down atop it. A gift, for, me..? The thought floated through his head as his eyes watered a bit. He instantly felt guilty as he had not gotten you a Christmas gift. He did not think for one second that you would get him anything so he didn't get you anything. What a fool he felt like at that moment. A selfish, stupid fool.
It took him a moment to figure out that he was allowed to open the gift. That it truly was for him. From you. His fingers shook ever so slightly as he gently unwrapped the gift, careful not to damage the paper where the little note sat with your writing on it. As the paper was placed on the bed beside him he was met with a box. he opened it quickly only to be met with a smaller box. He opened that and yet another box appeared.
He could nearly hear you giggling at him as he got more and more agitated by the multitude of boxes. Just as he was about to give up, just as he was about to believe it was a cruel prank and that you perhaps meant for him to feel duped he reached a box that appeared to be different from the others. It looked like a jewellery box and he arched a brow at it.
His hands trembled ever so slightly as he flipped the lid up only to be met with two cufflinks made of silver. They had SS engraved on them in softly curling writing. His initials. He lifted the little box up to take a closer look. That's when he noticed a little note stuck to the top of the lid. He took it and unfolded it gently. He was met by your handwriting yet again.
Severus, my Prince, one day I will make you see we are forever. One day I will make you understand my love for you. In the meantime, you can try to destroy these. Do it, try to destroy them in any way you can think off. For, they shall never break, get scratched or turn dull. As long as I love you they shall remain pristine.
Yours until the end of eternity and then some, (y/n).
Severus arched a brow at the note as he could her your sassy voice challenging him to give it a go. So he placed the cufflinks on the bed before he grabbed his wand and tried to destroy them. the box turned to black dust as he tried to make them explode, but the cufflinks looked as they had just a moment earlier. He tried another spell, and then another and another. They just laid there - as shiny as the first time he laid his eyes upon them.
Something tugged and stretched in his heart. Something filled him up and it wasn't fear or dread, it wasn't a feeling of insecurity or self-loathing. It wasn't even doubt. He knew all those feelings so well so they were easy to dismiss. No, this was a new feeling that consumed him as you had truly done something that gave him physical proof of your love for him. You had told him, time and time again, that you loved him. He had never uttered those words to you from the fear of losing you. He did not dare to truly let you in, truly allow himself to love you and be fully loved by you.
But as he stared at the shiny cufflinks with his initials and the note trembled in his shaky hand he could finally allow himself to open his heart for you. He finally dared to allow himself to love you. Memories flashed before his eyes of all the times you had told him, had hugged him, kissed him, loved him in so many ways.
Tears trickled down his cheeks as he reached for the cufflinks laying in the soot of the destroyed box. He cradled them in his hand as he let out a deep breath. His shoulders sank a tad, his rigid back loosened a bit and warmth spread throughout him as he, for the first time, had hope for a future with love and joy. He had hope for your relationship. Hope, it was the one thing he never dared to have. But you gave it to him. He had no choice but to accept the overwhelming feeling of warmth that filled him all the way through, because of you...
Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST
Okay, it turned out not to be super short, hrmmm...
im singling out this scene from part 5 because i was just possessed by some higher writing power and i cannot stop thinking about that last line, so have a little snippet of sev having a panic attack in the privacy of a closet
His resolve was breaking.
He tried to focus on his Occlumency shields, tried to push back the unfiltered pain and fear he refused to think about - could not think about - because if he did, he was afraid he would never be able to function again. He was afraid he would break
The dam was already broken though and now, now the rest of it felt inevitable.
Now he was simply gasping for breath, tears welling in his eyes that he refused to let fall, sitting on the floor of a dusty broom closet, bathed in the dull yellow light that flared whenever it sensed movement, like some sort of spotlight - a beacon honing in on him, existing solely to put his downfall on display.
Petunia snapped out of her trance, it took her a moment to realize she was trembling and to realize that someone was grabbing her shoulders.
"Petunia are you alright?" She blinked away the tears in her eyes and tried to focus on the person talking to her. She looked around and noticed Vernon lying unconscious in the middle of the alley and bleeding.
"I- I'm fine" She said her voice cracking. She stiffened as she felt arms wrap around her. She looked up at the man hugging and suddenly realized that it was Severus, that greasy boy her sister hangs out with.
Slowly she wrapped her arms around Severus tightly and practically cling him. The day had started with her going on a date with Vernon but somewhere along the way home he had begun to get handsy and despite her protest he didn't stop.
And in the blink of an eye someone, who turned out to be Severus, had grabbed Vernon by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him as hard as they can in the jaw. Vernon decided to fight back but that proved to be pointless.
She didn't know where Severus came from but she was glad he had shown up. "We should get you home" Severus spoke softly, Petunia simply nodded but had not loosened her hold on him.
"Petunia can you let go" He asked but made no attempt to push her away. Petunia reluctantly let go but had quickly clung onto his arm. Severus didn't mind and began to walk Petunia back home.
The pair walked together in silence. Petunia was still trembling but not as bad as before, the events of what had happened still running through her mind.
"We're here" Petunia snapped back to reality and noticed that they were standing in front of her house. "Right..." she whispered to herself, part of her didn't seem to want to let go of Severus but she knew she had too.
"You can let go now"
Petunia slowly let go of his arm "Thank you"
"You're welcome"
She made no move to go inside but she was quick to grab hold of Severus the minute he attempted to walk back to his own home. Severus looked at her confused "Um Petunia I need to go home" he said.
"Wait um..." She thought for a minute and then she noticed his hands. They were bruised and had a few cuts from when he had fought Vernon. "You're hurt" She stated, Severus simply shook his head "I'll be fine"
"No, let me patch you. You helped me let me help you" She said and without waiting for his response she was had already began to drag him inside the house.
Severus was forced to sit on the couch, he was told not to move till Petunia came back. He didn't know why he was listening to her he could easily get up and leave but instead he sat there and waited.
Not a minute later did Petunia finally come back with a first aid kit. They both sat in silence as Petunia cleaned Severus's hands. Severus flinched ever so slightly at time but made no noise of discomfort.
After a few minutes Petunia began to bandage up his hands "There all done" She said softly. Severus nodded "Thanks, I should get going" he said and stood up.
Petunia nodded and guided him to the door, before Severus could leave Petunia pulled him into a hug. "Thank you again Severus" She said softly and kisses his cheek.
Severus blushed lightly and hugged back "You're welcome" he muttered.
And with that Petunia stepped back, Severus waved at her before making his way back home. Petunia shyly waved at him as he walked away, a soft smile plastered on her face.
Once he was out of her sight, she slowly closed the door and made her to her room to rest.
