queue of things to read

A/N: It’s not exactly like you asked, but hopefully you still enjoy it!!

Also available on FF and Ao3!

fluke

Hermione’s been on Ginny’s case about relaxing – really richcoming from Miss Workaholic herself – which is a little bit of a wake-up calldespite the bit of hypocrisy.  Because ifHermione Granger actually tells youto relax, it must be pretty bad.

So Ginny resolves at the beginning of the week that herfirst night she’s awake enough when she gets home to not pass out immediatelyafter dinner, she will take a relaxing bath with the bubbles and various otheraccouterments that Fleur gave her last Christmas.  

So on Saturday, after a long but slightly less gruelingpractice, Ginny eats some of the leftovers Molly had loaded her down with atdinner on Wednesday and then goes about preparing a relaxing evening forherself.  It really was a happy accidentthat today happened to be the day she was most awake and tomorrow was her firstfree morning in weeks.  Gwenog had takenpity on them – or maybe she just had a hot brunch date – and cancelled practicefor the morning, only scheduling some team meetings and other ‘housekeeping’for the late afternoon.

Which means Ginny can relax as long as she likes and sleepuntil the sun’s actually risen.  As she twists the taps on in the bath andsteam rises in the air, Ginny pours perhaps a bit too much bubble bath into thewater and watches as the suds rise, filling the bathroom with the calmingscents of lavender and vanilla.

While she waits for the water to rise, Ginny putters abouther flat, tracking down scented candles that won’t clash and finding hercoziest socks and dressing gown for her eventual exit from the bath.

After tying her hair up loosely, Ginny strips down tonothing, tossing the pile of dirty sweats into her hamper messily and slipsinto the water.

Before she gets too relaxed, Ginny reaches for her mobile –carefully enclosed in a Ziploc bag so as to avoid a panicked trip to the phonestore – and takes a slightly blurry selfie in SnapChat to send Hermione withthe caption finally relaxing shut up.

Then, Ginny adjusts the hand towel rolled behind her neck andgrabs the paperback she’d saved for just such an occasion and cracks the spine,letting the words take her away while the heat leeches the tension from hermuscles.

A few chapters in, Ginny pauses to sip her wine and checkfor a response from Hermione, swiping to open the notification with a bit ofdifficulty through the plastic, only to realize she most definitely did not send her naked selfie to herbrother’s girlfriend.

Right at the top of her notifications is an unopened snapfrom Harry Potter, her last snap to Hermione sent days ago.  Her heart thuds in her chest and Ginny wantsto sink beneath the water and never come out, living her life as a bog monsterbeneath the lukewarm water.

It’s not as bad asit could be – the selfie hadn’t been trulynaked.  All her most private bitswere strategically covered and whatnot, but she was very obviously naked andshe certainly wasn’t on sultry candlelit selfie terms with Harry, hadn’t even seen him in a month.  Not since he’d picked up a new homicide caseat the same time her season got rolling. He was around, and so was she, but they never seemed to converge on theBurrow at coinciding times.  Shipspassing in the night and all that shite. Except, only if those ships almostalmost dated in the middle of A-Levels and then lived in awkward disregardof whatever tension was leftover since.

And now she’d broken that mutual silence on the subject bysending a nude – and Harry’d answered. There’s not really a guidebook for it, so she’s not sure how quicklythis type of exchange (when intentional) will escalate to actually showing bits.  Harrydoesn’t seem one for unsolicited dickpics – but this could have seemed like a solicitation and now she might have apicture of Harry’s…

Growling, Ginny adjusts with some splashing and sits upfully, blowing out a deep breath and steeling herself to open the…video in one, two, three –

my stuff:

I write about this a lot, so this isn’t an exhaustive list, but here are some stories where physical disabilities of various kinds are represented.

As someone with a visual disability that basically never shows up in media—wheeee!—I put some of my own experiences into “letters from a region of the moon” in particular.

To stare at heaven and not be destroyed

Spell it on my mouth

Sometimes you can’t stay on your own mainland

After great catastrophe

Batter my heart

I live in a cage and I can take you there

Beloved of the sun

A conspiracy of barely functional people

Letters from a region of the moon

Some of these involve disability acquired after trauma, so be mindful of the tags <3

Recs:

Honestly the reason I started writing so much about this is because I didn’t find much of it, at least not stories that resonated with me.

People tend to use the “disability” tag when writing about Zuko even when they don’t explore aspects of his disability or how they inform his life, which makes it hard to search.

I haven’t read this yet, but it looks good! On Zuko and blindness

Marlene's the first one to bring it up.

Remus is just sitting, trying to do his transfiguration homework in the common room when she pipes up.

"Hey, Remus, isn't your anniversary soon?" That's enough to draw his attention, head snapping up with a confused frown. "Any plans?"

"...anniversary?" He asks. Marlene looks at him like he's just spoken another language, or that he's magically turned into a brick wall.

"Yeah. Are you doing anything for it?"

"I have no clue what you're on about," he says simply, expecting that to be the end of that. However, a knowing smile finds its way onto Marlene's face, and she nods.

"Ah, right. I get it," she says with a wink, only befuddling Remus more.

Still, he doesn't think anyone else is going to bring it up.

As it turns out, everyone seems to think he has some big anniversary coming up. Lily congratulates him, Mary says she "always knew it was going to last forever", even Edgar Bones nudges him and whispers a quick "well done".

Somehow, and Remus has no clue how, he did something noteworthy a year ago. He's also completely unaware as to what. Nobody answers him when he asks, so he simply starts offering a polite smile and moving on with his day. There's some strange misunderstanding happening, and it'll probably blow over soon.

Probably.

It takes reaching the 'anniversary' date to figure out what the fuck is going on.

He's finally gotten some time with Sirius after he's been stuck in back-to-back detentions, walking down to the Black Lake together and just... chatting. It's really nice being able to spend time with Sirius outside of his classes again, even if it sends his stomach spinning and diving. As they talk, they pass Dorcas, who turns and calls to the two of them.

"Happy anniversary, guys!"

She's gone before they can ask any questions, leaving Remus with the same confused feeling as before. He opens his mouth to explain the situation to Sirius, only for Sirius to beat him to it.

"That's been happening all week," he says, puzzled, which stops Remus in his tracks.

"It has?"

He isn't walking anymore, and Sirius stops with him, elaborating with a frown.

"Yeah. Everyone's been going on and on about some anniversary. I don't know what-"

"They've been doing it to me too," Remus interjects quickly, almost under his breath. Sirius catches it though, eyes widening as he reaches the same conclusion as Remus has at the same bloody time.

It's them.

It's all about them.

All of the knowing glances, the congratulations, even the weird fucking winks. They all think Remus and Sirius are dating. Not only that, but they've thought that for a year? The thought sends too many emotions running through him. Shock, confusion and, oddly enough, bitterness. He's fallen asleep every night for months with Sirius on his mind. The thought of kissing him, being with him, belonging to him. He's spent too long biting back his confessions, the very obvious and frustrating fact that he's in love with Sirius Black, because he doesn't want to destroy their friendship, and his friends have just swooped in and made things so much more difficult!

"It's our fucking anniversary, isn't it?" Sirius says quietly, before glancing behind him. "Hold on," he says to Remus, turning right back around and going in the same direction Dorcas has just gone. He seems to involuntarily grab Remus' hand, Remus having no choice but to follow him helplessly.

They get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Remus is a little pissed that everyone's weird obsession with their imaginary anniversary is interrupting the picnic they had planned.

"Guys." The two of them stop on front of the group, Sirius doing the talking, thank fuck. To be perfectly honest, Remus feels pretty speechless. "D'you lot think Remus and I are dating?"

"Yeah?" James says simply, wrinkling his nose like it's just a fact of life. "Everyone knows you're together."

"...we're not," Sirius says slowly, carefully, sending the group lapsing into silence, exchanging confused glances.

"Okay, that's doesn't make any sense," Lily says, everybody else nodding in agreement. "You're literally together all the time."

"Because we're friends," Sirius explains, and Remus really isn't sure what to say. Good thing he doesn't have to, because the back and forth doesn't stop.

"If Remus is in the hospital wing, you're there until Madame Pomfrey kicks you out," James offers.

"I care about him!" Sirius argues, but something about what James has said has hit him in a strange way, Remus hears the shift in his tone, feels the slight tightening of his grip on Remus' hand.

"You're holding hands right now," Mary says pointedly, and Sirius looks down at their connected hands like he had forgotten it had happened. Still, he has a reason for that one too.

"I hold everyone's hand."

He really doesn't want people to think he's dating Remus, does he?

"Not that much," Peter mumbles under his breath, and Remus almost wants to laugh.

"Sorry, does nobody find it strange that we've never kissed, then?" James shrugs.

"Not really. Figured you didn't like PDA."

"Okay, then... we've never called each other boyfriends, never been on a date-"

"Right, that one's just not true," Marlene says with a snort. Remus frowns, confused. Have they been on a date? Surely he'd know, right? "You go to Hogsmeade together all the time, you run off to 'study' every chance you get, and you're picnicking today."

"We're friends? Friends spend time together," Sirius says quickly, and Remus is really starting to struggle. He doesn't want to stand there while Sirius explains how ridiculous the concept of them dating is.

Instead of putting a stop to the conversation, Remus takes the coward's way out. He pulls his hand free from Sirius', turns, and walks away.

"Moony, wait-"

Remus pointedly ignores Sirius' call to him, aiming to get to the dorm and just wallow in self-pity for fifteen minutes. That way, he can act like he's fine and just go to the bloody picnic.

His hip, however, has other plans.

It twinges right as he reaches the stairs, forcing him to a halt with a sharp inhale. His hand involuntarily goes to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get some of the weight off it. Unfortunately for him, it means Sirius catches up too quickly. To be honest, he hadn't even realised that Sirius was following him, but he arrives at his side in a matter of seconds.

"Moony, are you alright?" Remus lets his eyes sink shut for half a second, frustrated. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise they were upsetting you that much."

"It's not- it's just- it's nothing, I'm fine," Remus settles on, offering Sirius a tired smile.

"Moons, s'fine. I know how stupid you think it is." Sirius takes another step forward, acting as though he hasn't just confused the fuck out of Remus.

"What d'you mean? That's not why..." he trails off, not sure how to verbalise any of his thoughts without telling Sirius everything. Sirius fills it in for him, though.

"It's okay, really. You don't have to spare my feelings, or anything. I know you don't feel the same way," Sirius says with a shrug, sending Remus' mind reeling in a matter of seconds.

The same way.

The same fucking way?

Just like that, Remus is malfunctioning. Firstly, when the Hell did Sirius start liking him back? He's spent months having to reel in his own emotions, spending time with Sirius and accepting the sad reality that he's never going to be with him in a romantic way. Finally, just finally, he's started to come to terms with his own unrequited emotions, accept and embrace his friendship with Sirius, and they're not even bloody unrequited?

Also, when did they talk about it? How has Sirius come to the conclusion that Remus doesn't like him? Christ, Remus is fucking in love with him!

That's enough to spur Remus to talk.

"What?"

Okay, maybe he can't form full sentences right now, but he'll get there. Hopefully. Sirius just scrunches his nose up, confused.

"Moony, I get it, it's honestly okay. You don't like me, and didn't want to hear them all jumping to conclusions," He explains, and it only throws Remus more.

"No, that's not it," Remus says quickly, stunned that any words are coming out, even if they're pretty unhelpful words.

All he can do is look at Sirius. Beautiful, amazing, kind Sirius, who crushed his own feelings because he thought they were upsetting Remus. Merlin, he can't take it anymore. Clearly words aren't working for him right now, he has to try something else. Something that will express every single emotion that he has bottled up since he first went tripping and falling head over heels for his best friend.

His solution? Kiss the prat before he has a chance to second guess himself.

With that, he reaches out, grabs Sirius' jacket with one hand, pulls him in, and kisses him. At first, Sirius freezes, stunned, and Remus has an awful panic that he's gotten everything all wrong. Luckily for him, Sirius finally registers that Remus is kissing him and kisses him back.

It's...

Christ, it's everything Remus has ever imagined and more. It's like time stops as Remus' stomach swirls. Sirius' lips are soft against his, and his kiss is explorative, fucking mind blowing. He wraps his arms around Sirius' waist, feeling Sirius lean into the touch as he reaches out and cups Remus' cheek.

After what could be an hour, a few minutes, even a few seconds, just definitely not enough time, they both break away. Unfortunately, breathing exists, and Remus kind of needs to remember how to do that. Almost in unison, their foreheads press together, and Remus can feel a smile making its way onto his face.

Books for every Spotify Wrapped listener class! 

VAMPIRE

Masters of Death by Olivie Blake

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

Mordew by Alex Pheby

HYPNOTIST

The Library of the Dead by T. L. Huchu

Daughter of Redwinter by Ed McDonald

Spring’s Arcana by Lilith Saintcrow

ALCHEMIST

The Bone Orchard by Sara A. Mueller

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey

SHAPESHIFTER

Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher

The Warden by Daniel M. Ford

Wolfsong by TJ Klune

FANATIC

Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson

Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree

The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab

TIME TRAVELER

Kinning by Nisi Shawl

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab

MASTERMIND

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Red Team Blues by Cory Doctorow

Exadelic by Jon Evans

COLLECTOR

The Wolfe at the Door by Gene Wolfe

Cassiel’s Servant by Jacqueline Carey

A collection of stories following the Weasley family over the years, written for @thethreebroomsticksfic 2003 Weasley Week fest.

Hush (Molly and Arthur - 1992)

Not Mine Is The Glory (Ron - 1994)

The Prodigal Son (Percy - 1995)

No Turning Back (Bill - 1997)

Laugh Again (Fred and George - 1999)

The Opposite of War (Charlie - 2001)

🥺

Thanks for the ask🤩 I decided to treat you with a snippet of the WIP I’m working on at the moment 😊

Victoire shifted impatiently on his lap, her gaze fixated on his ripped forearms, the golden afternoon sunlight casting a warm glow through the kitchen window.

“What is that?”

Ron could feel her small fingers delicately tracing the patterns on his skin, her touch curious and innocent.

“Pictures,” he replied, his tone gentle.

“Why do you have pictures on your arms?”

“They’re called tattoos,” Ron explained.

“Tattoos?”

“They’re like magical drawings that stay on your skin forever - similar to when you paint on the wall with the magical felt pens that George gave to you. It’s not coming off,” he explained patiently, hoping to capture her imagination. The clinking of dishes being washed magically in the sink behind him created a comforting rhythm in the background.

“Why do you have them?” she pressed on, her curiosity unyielding.

He was torn between being honest and shielding her from the harsh realities he had faced, so he looked at Bill, seeking permission to share the truth with her. Bill nodded ever so slightly, a subtle but affirming gesture that allowed him to go on.

“Because there was a time when I got hurt very badly.” He carefully weighed his words, mindful of the impact they might have on her young mind. Ron understood her curiosity, yet he didn’t want to burden her with more than she could bear being only 4 years old, “And I don’t want to be reminded of it. That’s why I let somebody draw pictures on the scars so I won’t have to see them anymore.”

Victoire’s innocent sapphire blue eyes widened, absorbing his words like a tale from a storybook.

“Why were you hurt?”

Her question hung in the air, the room falling silent as every ear turned to Ron’s conversation with his little niece. The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming charged with unspoken tension, all the adults acutely aware of the depth behind the innocent questions.

Ron took a deep breath and briefly looked at the remnants of Sunday lunch still scattered across the table, the aroma of home-cooked food still lingering in the air.

He searched for his brother’s eyes again, and Bill nodded once more, his expression supportive, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Look, Vic, there were times when…”

yessss here are some enemies to lovers gems in my bookmarks <3

right on the target, wide of the mark by @backhurtyy

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only by @jatersade

Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores by @onmyliteraturebullshitagain

Operation Leverage

(only if you'd like me to) i could fall in love with you

it's the illusion of separation

ahhh one more trick or treater!

as you are my last trick or treater, I will be very generous and give you the equivalent of all the candy left in my bucket. here is the prologue - about 1000 words - of my upcoming Tedromeda/Remadora fic.

November, 1959

Rain poured heavily upon London, drowning the night-dwellers of the city with frigid droplets. Andromeda Black, a formerly proper, pureblood witch, was luckily not among the many souls freezing in the downpour, though she would be drenched soon.

Neither was Ted Tonks, the Muggleborn wizard who had given Andromeda a taste of freedom, but it was time to return to her cage. He could stay in his cozy, shabby world and give another woman a wonderful life, the kind of life Andromeda didn’t know she wanted until she tried it out for herself.

She was nestled in Ted’s bed, after having spent the last few hours doing some truly sinful things with him. When they were together like this, it was as if she was being worshiped; his lips would reverently skim across her sensitive flesh, her name became a prayer on his tongue, and his eyes were always in awe, beholding the feminine vision she was proud to reflect. No one had ever made her feel so beautiful, wanted, or adored.

This night would be the last time she’d feel him against her body; how she was going to explain it to him was eating away at her soul.

“’Dromeda,” Ted murmured, his breath tickling the back of her neck, “will you swing by tomorrow?”

It was as good an opening as Andromeda was going to get.

“No.”

For #WeasleyWeek by @thethreebroomsticksfic I thought that I would do a little study/microfic of each of the Weasley siblings on the home they can't help but return to over and over again.

Bill (Ao3)

Charlie

Percy (Ao3)

Fred

George

Ron (Ao3)

Ginny

Read on AO3

This story was sitting on my drive for many years. Finally, I gathered the courage to publish it. I’d like to give a huge thank you to the wonderful @nena-96 who has tirelessly supported me in the past few weeks. It meant the world to me. You‘re amazing ❤️

In the silent depths of the night, guided by his sister’s steadfast support, Ron finally finds the courage to open up to Hermione, sparking a conversation they should have had years ago.

It was a quiet moonlit night and Ron found himself drawn to the cozy warmth of the Burrow’s kitchen, unable to sleep because of all the thoughts swarming through his mind. The house was silent, except for the soft ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. Clad in pajama bottoms and an old grey shirt, his too long fiery hair a dishevelled mess, he entered the kitchen and noticed his sister seated at the table, absentmindedly twirling a stray of her hair in between her fingers. Her appearance mirrored his own, her fiery hair reflecting the soft moonlight streaming through the window. The dim, silvery glow of the room accentuated the shadows under her tired eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Ron asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Ginny jumped at the sound of his voice, gripping her wand, until she realized she wasn’t in any danger. She answered with a small nod, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and some remnants of tears still glistening in the dim light.

“No, too much on my mind. It’s just...”

Introducing ✨Friday Fic Recs✨

The Ladies of HP fest/server is happy to announce weekly fic recs from now until next year's fest. Every Friday, we will highlight 5-10 female-centric fics! This week, the recs come from your mods, @celestemagnoliathewriter, @artemisia-black, and @merlins-sequined-hotpants.

Going forward, we would love to receive recs in the ask box or in the rec channel on our Discord server. Almost any fic that is female-centric is welcome (exception: fics that feature explicit underage sexual content). We look forward to sharing more recs with you!

Fic Recs for Friday the 13th of October, including part of the summary from the author:

We've Grown Up (but still haven't changed) by @thecasualauthor18. Leading ladies: Black sisters, Andromeda POV. T, 2.2k words. Summary: Andromeda Black Tonks receives a letter from Narcissa, and against her better judgement goes to meet her.

Parvati by @sleepstxtic. Leading lady: Parvati Patil. G, 634 words. Summary: “Like you and appa?” you ask, propping yourself up on the kitchen counter and crossing your legs in anticipation. Your mother’s stories are always the best.

In the Service of Others by @bellmel. Leading lady: Molly Weasley. G, 4.7k words. Molly is not one to sit idle. It isn’t in her nature. She likes being busy, and as the last of her children leave for Hogwarts, Molly never even entertains the idea of staying at home with no company but her own. She needs a job.

Ariadne by @ashesandhackles. Leading lady: Cho Chang. G, 1.1k words. Summary: Exploring Cho's feelings for Harry in wake of her grief for Cedric's death, with symbolism from myth of Ariadne, Theseus and the Minotaur. A surrealistic character study.

Kiss Each Other Clean by @ronsgirlfriday-blog. Leading lady: Hermione Granger. T, 4.3k words. Summary: The war is over and all Hermione wants is to wash it all off of her.

Standing Up by @isidar-mithrim. Leading lady: Minerva McGonagall. G, 4.9k words. Summary: Minerva is powerless in front of Carrows’ tortures, painfully aware there’s only one way to protect her students: don’t protect them. It will be her own students to prove her that hope isn’t lost yet.

stolen glances, stolen cauldrons by @lanaturnergetup. Leading lady: Madam Rosmerta. M, 3k words. Summary: As with most bad experiences in her life, Madam Rosmerta would find that her affair with Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher started out with too much to drink. 

Power by @alohaemora. Leading lady: Angelina Johnson. G, 1.9k words. Summary: "Our hair is power, Angie, it's our history. It tells the world who we are."

(#17 - Spring - @hinnymicrofic)

Summer is for endless hot days, skins tanning as they fly high under the sun; birds at day, crickets at night, laughter anytime; jokes and shared tease, teaming up even when they are supposed to be playing against each other; resting under the shadow of a tree, with the breeze cooling their faces, talking about all and nothing; her cheeks are pink, blushing because of him but not for him; it's the fragrance of flowers in the air, intoxicating but never exhausting; it's the short nights spent camped in his room, telling each other ghost stories that never frighten him; he never remembers his dreams later, but there is a flash of red, a sparkling laugh; he sleeps better.

Autumn is realisation. It's noticing a distance that hadn't been there in the summer, but it comes with the age difference, classes that should help him survive. It's remembering she has other friends, a boyfriend with whom she must be enjoying that winding day in a cozy place; he scowls. It's seeing her with someone else and understanding why he hates it; it's remembering his every dream because she is there and how could he have not noticed it before; she is always there, only this time he yearns to share her laugh and her kisses; his dreams always grant his wishes, only for him to wake up.

Winter starts as a pale replay of summer. They are together, but there is a wall now, born of his conflicted and unrequited feelings; he shouldn't, but it's hard to resist her pull, though. As the frosty days go by, he cannot help but share an amused grin when the Christmas love songs play on the radio; they tease the silliness of other couples around them; her eyes flash dangerously when he says he is sorry for all the mess with her brother. They spend New Year's Eve making angels in the snow, and he laughs, all concerns gone; their hands meet for a moment, a touch too warm on that cold night, and he craves for more; her smile flickers for a moment, and when she takes her hand back, there is a whole conflict on her face. When they get back, he cannot help but notice she doesn't seem thrilled to meet her boyfriend.

Spring is for hope. Whispers of fallings out between her and her boyfriend; at night, when he lays in bed, a glint of gold teases him — how lucky it would be if she happened to break up with her boyfriend, how lucky if she realised her feelings for him, how lucky if her brother wouldn't mind. Lucky helps him for once. He watches her; she is bright, lively, unbothered by end of her relationship, and he sighs more than once — he also gets hit by bludgers more than once, but he isn't noticing those. The days are getting longer and they return to the castle, after practice, in the twilight; the sky is painted with gorgeous colours but his eyes are on her, and her happy smile and the blaze of challenge and longing in her eyes; their hands brush, fingers almost intertwining, but then someone interrupts them, something happens, and they look away disappointedly. Every night she departs wishing him good dreams, and he wonders if she knows she will appear in his dreams later; he hopes he will be on hers.