John nods, thinks about running his fingers over Sherlock's scar but since he turned, it's completely buried in the pillows. Abruptly, John stands. Sherlock sits up, looks at him confused. John holds out his hand. "Dance with me," he says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. / Cross-posted on AO3.

"It felt a little like kissing her uncle, a little more like her brother, but at this point Emily didn't notice or care one, because through everything, Nolan had been her only constant." Post-3x02. Cross-posted on AO3.

There is a Portuguese word, saudade. It has been defined as a "vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist." It is not translatable into English. You do not know any other languages. You knew a man from the Capitol once who was fluent in three. You do not know if Portuguese was one of them. You do not know him anymore.

50 days after the end of the war.

It is a week before Christmas and we have nowhere else to go.

"Do you want me to tell you to stay?" He finally asks her. She laughs breezily. "I want you to say whatever you want to say, House, or nothing at all."

Severus Snape is a smart man; it's just common knowledge. But there are three things that he never knew, and the last of them might have caused his downfall. / Snape/Lily; pre-DH era.

He thinks maybe they could stay here, grow old. He thinks maybe they could stay here and grow young, too, if they even remember how. / HHr; drabble. DH-era.

Just because we're not the Golden Trio anymore doesn't mean we can't still be two. / HHR, oneshot. More drabble.

Ron cracks a joke to her and he can tell she's trying to laugh at it and it be believable. But Ron isn't paying enough attention right now to notice. But he notices. And he wishes, for once, that could be enough. / HHR, oneshot.

It's four a.m. before he wakes up in the bar, slumped over the chair he thinks he remembers making out with last night. / HHr, oneshot. Drabble.

Ghosts are real, and Severus Snape knows this. He's experienced it first-hand. / Sev/Lily; Deathly Hallows.

It's just the heat of the moment, she tells herself. But maybe, maybe, it isn't. / Drabble, HHr, DH spoilers.

"I could spit in the face of God while Jesus rode in on a white horse to take all of the people who aren't me and him up to Heaven and he still wouldn't be worthy to look at me." Remus wants a response from Peter. / Post-2nd rise of Voldemort.

These city walls ain't got no love for me / I'm on the edge of the eighteenth story. R/H oneshot; mostly fluff.

Moony, they called him. And you felt that was so, so appropriate. And you felt that was beautiful. And it was. / Drabble; RLHG. Oneshot.

"Things buried in his mind were taking brains of their own, surfacing themselves, and she knew he couldn't control the flood of memories. But he had erupted. And the ash flew all over her." Harry/Hermione Halloween oneshot for my FF BFF, Sophie x3