Meditations on Magic

Twice a month over at the Miscellaneous Marauder's Fest Discord Server we give our members a theme and they offer us their best Marauders Fanfic Recs!

These past two weeks our theme was:

Sports AUs! ⚽ 🏀 🏈

All the recced fics can be found bellow and be sure to join us to see your recs on next month's post!

Petit pas by Curiosities 🩰

On the ice (there’s warmth between us) by hallyticket⛸️

Black Ice by viwrites 🏒

Coach Pitch by sliebman10 ⚾ @sliebman10

chéri, darling, and other terms of endearment by Siriusly_Reggie_13 🏒

The gold of your eyes is worth more then all of my medals by Lucigoo89 🏊@lucigoo

Match Point by billspaid 🎾@billspaid

i carry it in my heart by wolfpad ⚽@wolfpadx

Marlene McKinnon's Bitter Rivalry by stevonnie00 🧹

What A Game by sliebman10 ⚾

Copacabana Boy by withtheoldstars🥊@withtheoldstars

clear eyes, full hearts (can't lose either way) by greyeyedmonster18 🏈 @greyeyedmonster18

Date me, Remus Lupin by Moth_in_Moonlight 🏀

The Player's Secret by WrappedUp ⚽

Lionheart by moonlightdalliance🥍

Sweater Weather by lumosinlove 🏒

Pas de Deux in the Upper West Side by wilteddaisy (taotu) 🩰

The Trophy. by mooneroni 🧹@m00neroni

Chasing After You by mppmaraudergirl🧹

Chasing Life by mppmaraudergirl  🧹

Sometimes We Stumble by SunMoonStar60 🤸‍♂️

Black Diamonds and Moonlit Snow by iamafullyrealizedcreation 🎿

shoulder to shoulder by Swoops 🏉

Bird Set Free by MollyMaryMarie ⛸️

Hey, Sharpshooter by tortoisebore 🏀 @tortoisebore

At the Healing Edge of Broken by heartofspells ⚽@heartofspells

Clash by Xiphion🧹

Ilya left with Harris and Troy to get fitted for his best man suit for the upcoming Drover-Barrett wedding hours ago. He'd sent a very sexy selfie from the changing room, linen suit pants hanging loose on his waist, white dress shirt draped over his shoulders and unbuttoned down the chest, stupid lopsided grin with laugh lines and crinkles around his eyes (fuuuuuck, why are Ilya's crows feet doing it for him lately? Definitely not going to unpack that one).

Shane: Fuck. Come home.

Ilya: See something you like? I think it comes in your size

Shane: As long as it comes in me

Ilya: 👀

Shane: Come. Home. Now.

Ilya: Fuck. I promised Troy and Harris I would grab a beer when we're done. I'll let you know when I'm on my way home.

But hours later and still no text from Ilya. Shane doesn't want to be clingy. He knows the Centaurs see him and Ilya as a two-headed, codependent entity (which, honestly, fits in with the whole Centaur thing, wait no, Shane, don't lose the plot here). But he's starting to worry. Every now and then, Ilya will enjoy a beer since starting his SSRI, but never more than one, and he's always been completely fine. But still, Shane's brain is picturing awful scenarios, and he's practically thrumming with anxiety.

So Shane's anxiety wins and he dials Ilya. It rings a few times, and his heart fills with relief at the static crackle and rush of air filling the speaker. "Hello, Lyubimyy," Ilya purrs.

"Fuck, Roz, where the hell are you?"

"In the car, driving home from the bar. I'll be home in about 20 minutes. Just have to make a quick stop on the way."

Shane lets go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Okay. But if you're not home by 8, I'll suck my own dick."

There's a muffled gasp, but it doesn't sound like Ilya. He hears a tinny voice in the background. "Can he really do that?" it asks incredulously. Troy. Motherfucker.

He hears Ilya scoffs. "No. Wait. Can you really do that?'

"I bet its the yoga," another voice says. Harris. Fuck.

Shane blinks. His voice goes dangerously quiet. "Ilya," he starts. "Am I on speakerphone?"

"What?" Ilya squawks indignantly. "You are always so worried about me driving and talking, so I use the bluetooth."

"Ohhhhh well in that case," Shane says in a fake cheerful voice. "But you might have mentioned it before I STARTED DESCRIBING SEX ACTS IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS!" Shane yells.

"Shane," Ilya whines.

"Don't you 'Shane' me."

Ilya sputters. "I like to be hands free!"

Harris snickers in the background. "Apparently Shane likes to be hands free, too."

"Dude," Troy says. "You think he, like, can bend in half?"

Ilya growls. "Stop picturing it, Barrett!" he yells, presumably into the backseat. "Your fiance is literally next to you."

"Oh it's cool, Harris says Shane is my hallpass. Or, you know, Hollpass."

Ilya sighs. "Shane, we will fight about this later. I need to go kill Troy." And the call disconnects.

(Happy birthday, Ilya!)

In which Shane throws Ilya a surprise party in their backyard with the help of their family and friends.

Snippet:

Once everyone was satisfied that Ilya was surprised, the crowd dispersed a little. Shane stayed next to him, holding his hand as Ilya took in the balloons, the Cars decorations, the face painter who’d set up on the deck and was currently turning Amber Pike into a unicorn. “You did all this,” Ilya murmured, squeezing Shane’s hand.

Shane blushed a little, squeezing his hand back. “You deserve to be celebrated by your family,” he said softly. Ilya just had to kiss him again and again. He forced himself to stop kissing Shane though when his phone buzzed. He stepped back, accepting the FaceTime request. Soon Svetlana’s face filled the screen.

And sometimes fanfiction is, ‘Watch me do a fucking KICK FLIP off this cool sentence!! Also here's some sex'

They're almost always spooning, and after taking a moment to nuzzle into his hair and press a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, he extractes himself to use the bathroom and brush his teeth because he knows how Shane struggles with morning breath.

When he gets back, Shane's usually turned over to his other side, now facing the center of the bed like he's looking for Ilya's warmth. Ilya climbs back into bed slipping one hand over the top of Shane's head to rest in his soft hair and snaking the other over Shane's middle for warmth again.

And then he just looks at him for a while, drinking in the fact that this man is his forever and how lucky he is that he gets to see this every morning. He holds out for as long as he possibly can, letting Shane catch a few more minutes of sleep, before he can't help himself any longer.

It always starts with a soft kiss between Shane's eyebrows, where he knows that throughout the rest of the day a little line will appear as he frowns in concentration, when he can't quite read someone's tone, when he's deciding what to get on the menu, when an interviewer brings up the Metros, when he accidentally stumbles across a comment section and sees all the slurs there. Ilya tries to press as many kisses here as possible, wishing it would repel any bullshit Shane might face in his day. He seems to be facing more and more lately.

Then he kisses along his eyebrows, presses a barely-there kiss to each eyelid, trails kisses down his cheekbones, over those beautiful freckles, and over his nose, pressing an extra kiss to the tip because he loves how Shane scrunches his nose when he does it to him through the day.

He trails soft kisses down his cheeks, across his jaw, his chin, and finally, he presses a small kiss to both corners of his mouth before finally catching Shane's lips in a soft, but searing kiss, laughing into it slightly when Shane groans and stirs.

"I can't believe you choose to wake me up like this, baby," he mumbles, his voice all growly and sleep-wrecked in that way that goes straight to Ilya's cock. "You have a morning breath kink."

And Ilya sits back and begins gently scratching Shane's scalp in that way he knows he likes.

"So I like to wake you up with a kiss," he shrugs. "It proves I'm your true love. Like Sleeping Beauty."

"Yeah and the hundred or so kisses I got before that one didn't do anything. How true can the love be?"

And Ilya laughs and leans in to steal another kiss, this one long and indulgent – morning breath be damned.

"My Shane," he says when he finally pulls away, lips hovering barely an inch away from Shane's, "how could you have known about all the other kisses if you weren't already awake?"

And Shane gives a sleepy little laugh and closes the distance between them to bite Ilya's lower lip.

"Touché."

Title: the detectorist Prompt: self prompt "as a result of a midlife crisis and fail[ed/ing] academic career, remus starts metal detecting as a hobby. one day sirius finds him in a field " Guidebook / Prompt List / Sign Up Want to submit a snippet but missed the email blast, drop us a DM or log a ticket in the server <3

“I’m Sirius by the way,” he says, stretching out a hand.

Remus awkwardly half-stands to reach up and shake the offered hand. “Remus.”

“I know,” Sirius answers and Remus’ eyebrow quirks. “I mean, I guessed,” he quickly clarifies in a ramble. “James told me about you.”

Remus inwardly groans. He and James have been friends since childhood and he loves James, he really does, but the guy is far too sociable for his own (or rather Remus’ own) good. “What did he tell you?”

Sirius just gives a small shrug. “Not much, just that you were exploring the fields up here and I might be interested in tagging along.”

“And why would you be interested in tagging along?”

“I study Ancient History, seems like some fun hands-on experience.”

“You’re an undergrad?” Remus doesn’t need the answer to know he’s correct, Sirius is too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to have endured more than a few years of academic study.

“I'm twenty-seven,” Sirius answers rather defiantly, as if it’s his age Remus is calling into question.

“And you don’t have anything better to do than stand in a field all day?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stand in a field all day?” There’s mirth in Sirius’ voice, a twinkle of humour in his eye at his own witty comeback, but it just makes Remus’ glower deepen.