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Sammie was precariously balanced on the the toilet seat, tongue stuck out in concentration as he hung the final piece of enchanted mistletoe from the ceiling. He hummed as he worked to tie a tiny bow in the ribbon, and just as he finished, a sharp pain shot through his hand. Letting out an agonized howl, Sammie lost balance, slipping, and landing with one foot in the toilet and the rest of his body contorting oddly on the bathroom floor.

“Motherfucking arsecrap shithole!” He cursed all in one breath, holding out his limp hand. His next words were directed to the mistletoe. “You absolute dick. I brought you to life, and this was how you repay me?” The mistletoe cackled. Sammie wondered if mistletoe murder would send him to Azkaban and decided that there was only one way to find out. He moved to stand up and reach for the scissors, only to find that there was no possible way to do so without leaving him spineless. In other words, he was stuck.

"SOMEONE HELP,” he bellowed, using his one good hand to cup his mouth. “I’M STUCK ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR AGAIN. NOT DRUNK THIS TIME THOUGH. I SWEAR.”

#utve starter #this was mostly for nica bc theyre roomies but if anyone can figure out a way for it to work feel free to reply!#also dont worry about matching length ofc #happy au

lucvsweasley:

The aftermath of the ball was not something Lucy wanted to remember. Her cousin’s death was not something she wanted to remember, either, but her mind was a bitch and it was replaying in her head. It was like someone had sucker punched her. Staring at the wall, trying to get her thoughts together, Lucy heaved out a sigh. “Death doesn’t discriminate,” she murmured to herself. “it just takes and takes and takes. I think that’s the quote.” Turning around in her bed, pulling the covers over her head to keep the world out, Lucy almost didn’t answer the phone.

ring. ring. ring.

Groaning loudly and blindly searching for her phone, she picked it up and held it to her ear, voice quiet and sullen. “Are you okay?” she asked down the phone. “Do you need anything?”

When Lucy picked up the other end, Sammie’s fingers curled tightly around the phone. The sound of her voice, quiet and glum, echoed what he himself felt. He wondered, briefly, if he had made a mistake in calling her. No doubt everyone had enough to go through without his sorry ass being a nuisance. But he couldn’t do this alone, and maybe she felt the same.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” was the first thing he said, glancing down to the blood splatter on his shirt. “Or, I mean, I’m not hurt. Physically. Are you? Please tell me you’re not hurt. I just--” he cut himself off with a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he did. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

#lucy1

phocnix:

“Sorry for the wait. We’re swamped today – it’s the snow. But what can I get you? If you need suggestions, best thing on our food menu is the fish and chips. I also make a mean Hungarian Horntail. Or if you want something non-alcoholic, I’d recommend an eggnog float. ‘Tis the season, after all.”

Sammie considered his options, swaying back and forth in place, the bell tied around his throat chinging merrily as he did. “Hungarian Horntail,” he decided at last, settling down into an empty seat at the bar. “Don’t let me down; I expect only the best from you, lil red.”

#lily1 #idk if they kno eachtoher or not but either way hes a v friendly person hence the 'lil red'

mconshine:

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll crack your nuts. Don’t fucking come to me with your bullshit Christmas spirit – it’s the middle of December, sugarplum. Your face looks like a smacked arse with all that red.”

“Better looking like a arse than acting like one. Where’s your Christmas spirit? No reason to be so sour. Unless--” His eyes widened in mock revelation, “--you’re on Santa’s naughty list.”

aurorabardvn:

aurora was found out once again, more so out of stubbornness than anything, at midnight nothing but a few galleon to last her until the morning. she was still fighting the urge to run back home to her mom or the waiting arms of her boyfriend but it seemed like going to them would make them worry more. a sigh left her, head hanging down to watch the toes of her boots stride over the pavement counting each of her steps. though for every one of hers there was two advancing on her. they came to a stop as she did, waiting even as she whipped around to whisper a timid, “hello?” fear pulled her heart up into her throat as she quickly turned back to her path, quickening her pace to a brisk walk..then to a full out run only to be pulled to a stop by her shoulders. tears pricked at her eyes as she screamed tho muffled by a hand that clamped over her mouth. “let me go!! let me go! oh my god!”

Sammie fell out of the pub and into the alleyway, beer still clutched tightly in his hand. Rising, and dusting himself off with his one free hand, he considered his options: He could find another seedy bar, though it was unlikely that they would serve him in this state. He could go home and get some much needed rest, but something told him that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. So he settled on option number three -- stumbling down the street in an aimless, drunken stupor.

When he heard the scream, he had been walking for some time, and his exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. But he wasn’t about to let anything happen to anyone else, not after the day he’d had. With what little energy he had left, he ran towards the noise, only to find a large man grabbing a girl by her shoulders. Fuck. He couldn’t think straight, but could think fast. Sammie threw his now-empty beer bottle at the man, and thanked god for the good hand-eye coordination that four years of quidditch had brought him as the bottle hit him upside the head, shattering as it did. The man lost grip of the girl, and staggered to the side.

#aurora1 #///.............this got long my bad my bad

Sitting curled in a wool blanket, the television flickered and flashed in front of Sammie’s vacant stare. It was how he eased himself out of ugly, intrusive thoughts -- watching the same sunday morning cartoons that he did as a kid -- but today it provided no comfort. The pictures of what he’d seen flashed before his mind, and showed no signs of leaving him in peace. So, pressing the power button, he watched the screen go blank and reached for his phone.

Sammie didn’t look through his contacts to find the right person. He didn’t care who it was; he needed someone to talk to. He pressed a number at random and clicked call.