*nearly spits coffee all over laptop*

"I wuv my ickle woofwoof, ess I doo!"

A line from an overly soppy Remus-Sirius fic, you ask? Mais non! The Grauniad just published the Bad Sex Award shortlist.

(And the frightful thing is, Pynchon's effort isn't even the most egregious of the lot. I couldn't resist looking after matociquala mentioned "roast pork sweat.")

DRABBLE: Figure (Lupin/Snape, G)

For severity_softly, NaNoWriMo winner! She requested 'either "50,000," "accomplishment," or "celebration;" or any combination of two or more of those prompts.' 100 words.

- - -

"I am going to get this right if it takes me 50,000 tries," Lupin grumbled, mashing the clay under his hands into a pancake.

Snape sniffed. "It's not as if anyone would want one anyway, except to smash to bits. May I put my robe back on?"

"One more hour," Lupin said. "I'd like to accomplish something today."

Snape glared at him. "What do you call the hours we spent this morning sprucing up dark Christmas spells?"

"Work for other people," Lupin stated. "This is for me."

"Your notions of celebration are twisted," Snape declared, but he held his pose.