knobby-knees

Praise Kink

In which Harry is incredibly nervous and y/n knows just how to calm him down.

A/N: WELL I did it. Barely.  I managed to get this finished before Harry’s single dropped so that I’ll be able to freak out in peace tonight.  I hope you enjoy because this is… kinda filthy.  LOVE YA BUY SIGN OF THE TIMES ON ITUNES!

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agirlcalledfrost  asked:

OH OH OH PLEASE TELL US A BOARDING SCHOOL STORY PRETTY PLEASE

so my school had this thing called “senior skip day,” except that senior skip day didn’t exist and every year the administration sent out emails in the spring that were like DON’T FUCKIN SKIP CLASS OR YOU WILL RECEIVE RESTRICTION (restriction was like, my boarding school’s equivalent of detention where instead of staying after school you had to go to bed early and help stuff envelopes advertising the summer program until your hands were BLOODIED AND CRIPPLED BY CARPAL TUNNEL) and every year the seniors were like YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!

  • spoiler alert: yes they can? THEY ALWAYS CAN.
  • 200 years of american high school and teenagers still think that there is a cap limit on kids in detention and that you can leave after 15 minutes if the teacher doesn’t show up.

anyway, my senior year, we all got together and nattered at each other until some brave soldier (i feel like it was my friend paula but WHO KNOWS) was like “OK SENIOR SKIP DAY IS THIS THURSDAY!!!! NOBODY GO TO CLASS OR UR A SCAB.”

  • she didn’t say scab because she’s not from the 1920s and we aren’t newsies, though this story would be way more interesting if we were
  • what she said was “YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!”
  • except not yolo because it was 2009 and drake hadn’t been invented yet except as a dear sweet boy in a wheelchair.

we also used this email system to communicate with one another that has very deeply informed the way i understand email and which probably makes it very frustrating to be my friend and receive emails that have subject lines like “URGENT” and then just 42 links to the same florida georgia line youtube video.

  • I’M NOT ASHAMED, but in that way where like i kind of AM ashamed so i’m really aggressively NOT ashamed? 

so the day of reckoning rolls around and my alarm goes off at 8 (class started at 8:05 but i liked to PLAY WITH FIRE when it came to being late; my mom actually asked the school to stop emailing her when i was a sophomore because i was late so often that their rote “Mrs. Ofgeography we are emailing you to say—” was CLOGGING UP HER INBOX and she was like “i GET IT MY CHILD IS THE MOST BORING MISCREANT OF ALL TIME.”) and i looked at my roommate elle and she looked at me and went, “you going?”

“hell no,” i said. “YOLO. they can’t punish all of us.”

elle, who was far prettier and far cooler than i was with the notable exception of her obsession with tswift’s “love story” and her tendency to look at the endangered species list and cry sometimes during study hall, quickly bizounced across the street to this shopping center thing where all the cool kids smoked in secret where huge trucks dropped off clothes for the Dress Barn. i think there were also tennis courts nearby. more importantly there was this chinese food delivery place and a lil restaurant that made HELLA BAGELS.

  • WHAT KIND OF BAGELS?
  • FUCKIN
  • HELLA.

off goes elle! meanwhile i’m like, “yessssss i’m gonna use senior skip day to watch 14 hours of tv shows and eat frozen peanut butter bars that i stole from the dining hall! I’M GONNA LIVE LIKE I’M 23 ALONE IN CHICAGO ON A WEEKEND WHEN MY ONLY PLAN IS TAKEOUT AND CUDDLING WITH THE FAUX-SNOW-LEOPARD BLANKET I WILL ONE DAY SURELY OWN.” 

of course, during this time the administration was continuing to send out emails that reminded us with increasing urgency that senior skip day was NOT A THING and that we were ALL GETTING RESTRICTION if we didn’t get our STUPID ASSES TO CLASS, GODDAMNIT, WE ARE NOT RUNNING A CIRCUS HERE. 

but i was like! yolo, motherfuckers!!! i already got into college, YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.

at some point during the day elle and our friend ginna came back to the room with takeout from the chinese delivery place and we sat on our floor eating it and probably watching veronica mars or looking at the endangered species list and crying.

all of a sudden, elle said, “guys shut up, guys shut up, GUYS SHUT UP,” and ginna and i were like, “WHAT we have a LOT to SAY about FRIED FUCKING DUMPLINGS, ELLE,“ and elle said, "did you hear that?”

“hear what?”

that!”

‘that’ was the sound of one of our dorm moms, mrs. f, knocking on doors and saying things like, “IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR BUTTS TO CLASS IN 5 MINUTES YOU’RE ON CATEGORY 4 RESTRICTION FOREVER.” elle quickly scampered up our raised beds to hide in the corner, where a tiny human like elle could actually hide from view; i leapt immediately into what we called a closet but was basically a cubby with a flap that was DEFINITELY not meant for a 5'8” individual with knobby as hell knees.

our door, which was never locked because we both hated the effort of typing in the lock code, opened. mrs. f said, “mollyhall?”

i held my breath. 

  • i should add here that i seemed to be operating on like a scooby-doo level of logic where basically i thought that she was somehow NOT ALLOWED to investigate?
  • like, if she can’t see me, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that she could prove i’m in here, right?
  • she’ll just poke her head in and be like oH GOSH NO KIDS HERE and leave!!

you can see the flaw in my logic.

mrs. f sighed. “mollyhall, i know you’re in here, i literally heard your voice ten seconds ago.”

  • there’s no WAY she guesses i’m in the closet!!!

“mollyhall, i know you’re in the closet.”

  • NO YOU DON’T
  • I AM SCHRÖDINGER’S SENIOR

“mollyhall—”

there was a creak. mrs. f stopped. it wasn’t actually a “creak,” so much as this like, prolonged groan? like it’s the sound an elephant would make if it sat on a really large accordion.

i poked my head out of the closet. mrs. f looked at me. elle sat up.

i said, “where’s ginna?”

  • YOU KNOW WHERE GINNA WAS.

“um,” said elle, “she’s in the—”

  • GINNA NO

ginna yes.

i really wish i could describe the sound the ceiling made when it collapsed. it sounded a lot like the way losing your breath feels. i sort of remember ginna falling in like, really slow motion, like i could see the expression on her face. i didn’t really think about how i would describe this in words. ginna’s face said:

  • oh no.
  • what have i done?
  • this was a mistake. 
  • i regret a series of decisions that i have made.
  • is there a way out of this?
  • are those oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • why are there oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • mollyhall, you HAVE a food cupboard, what good is a food cupboard if you don’t—
  • oh, crap.

she belly flopped onto the floor. i mean, the girl bounced. and then she just laid there. mrs. f looked at her. elle looked at her. i looked at her, still mostly in the closet. we were all going to get category 4 restriction forever.

ginna said, “hi, mrs. f. i feel like i should explain.”

I think people see Jason as far too old when he died. He was fifteen. Do you know what fifteen year olds look like? Even if they’re considered “dreamboats” by their peers, they still have squishy kid faces. They still look like colts with long limbs and knobby knees. His shoulders were probably broad, but he still had to grow into them. 

My point is, Jason was a child. And by disregarding that important element, it erases much of his core characterization. It’s almost like shielding the Joker from the heinous actions he committed. He is a child killer. 

Jason is only nineteen now. That’s a year older than the legal age. This poor boy reached out for love and got broken glass shoved down his throat instead. 

Blood and rust and angry tears. These things make up Jason Todd, murdered child. 

Touch ;

a/n; i wanted to finish this now but i had to go to a play !! but i like this idea/au, so here’s a taste. // should i continue this?? maybe this could be a THING //

Pairing ; phan

Warnings ; cursing, mild panic attack, mentions of shooting/guns

Genre ; fluff, mostly SFW

Summary ; shy!theatre nerd! phil, popular!soft! dan

Phil has been silently in love with Dan Howell for ages now, the popular boy who’s nice to everyone and wears nail polish and always speaks his mind, and he has hardly even talked to him. Just the occasional bump in the hallway or Dan asking for a pencil will make him fall deeper and deeper in love, and it hurts him that Dan doesn’t even know his name. His world completely changes when there’s a lock down at their school, however… and they get stuck in the bathroom together for four hours. 


10:14 am

“Students of Jackson Highschool, we urge you to stay calm. Please make your way to the nearest classroom, and remember, no running.”

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Be My ♥ Color

a/n: be more chill x soulmate au. :o its a prologue just to test the waters but I’m stoked. if you wanna be tagged in the series letmeknow.kbyethanx. (also I’m planning a schedule! so stay tuned)
summary: Jeremy Heere never knew he missed something until he realized he was living a world not only devoid of colors but of a soulmate. After a terrible incident he’s found himself chasing after colors he wants; and realizing there are some colors he needs as well.
warning: Shakespeare references w/o translations :00
w/c: 3223
 
sincerely tagging: @hell-yes-puns-and-ships (betabae); @mishaisakitten @fandomgeek34 @theunidentifiedfangirl @gayrhodians @ka-rin7204 @nekothecatblog @binxi1031 @spilling-tea @loststardraws @green–llama @walkingcontadiction @purpledays9


  00. ← New Saved File→ 01.


Red was such a Michael color.

Jeremy couldn’t help it now; he loved everything about seeing color. Even video games were better in color and half the games Michael owned were so poorly colored it didn’t matter. Jeremy found so much endearment in things now…perhaps even more so feeling like Christine had given him this new life. Not to mention saving his life. Of course there was no way to talk about it. Three days into his Junior year and Jeremy had no idea how to even bring up the topic. Michael didn’t seem to bring it up either. He smiled and babbled like nothing changed, talking about his exciting escapades visiting the Philippines all summer.. “And then they had these candies that were like sweet but sour, but like salty…it was a trip, you would have loved them” Michael beamed as he came to a red light. His eyes flickered to Jeremy; he was staring at him.

Secrets ran both ways. While Jeremy was hiding the fact he did in fact want to pursue soul mates and ruin their twelve year promise, Michael had completely ignored the detail that he, too, could see color. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to even say to him. ‘Hey you’re my soul mate, ol’ pal.’ That would ruin everything! 

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“—K.,” (1/1)

Summary: “He starts leaving notes after that. For anything and everything, if he leaves the house without her knowledge, he leaves a note.”

Notes: This very, very brief drabble is the result of a collaboration between myself and the lovely Svenja (@winterbythesea). Because Killian Jones definitely has gross, beautiful penmanship, and he definitely leaves dumb, dramatic notes everywhere he goes. The freaking handwritten notes in the above photoset were all drawn by and photographed by her, because she is a genius. Small trigger warning for descriptions of a panic attack. Also on Ao3.


+ She wakes up one morning and he’s not there.

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Orange Sherbet » Chae Hyungwon

-

summary: “I was thinking hyungwon as a single dad would be super hot so could I have a single dad hyungwon au where he’s got a son/daughter and he starts bringing them to daycare where you work and the first day he brings his kid he sees you and you’re trying to ask him questions but you’re so pretty and he’s really flustered around you and when he sees you with his kid his heart just melts and he’s always asking his kid about ‘miss y/n’ and the kid is so over it”
words: 4086
category: fluff, single father!hyungwon, nurse!hyungwon
a/n: this ends in dialogue but hopefully it’s not as messy as it seems i don’t know. anyway i think this is one of the cutest things i’ve written so pls enjoy and support monsta x thanks

Originally posted by wonhontology


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Woosung was Hyungwon’s pride and joy. No matter how dark things got, or how gloomy the world seemed, it was okay, because Woosung would always be there when he got home.

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Be My ♥ Color

a/n: be more chill x soulmate au. :o if you wanna be tagged in the series letmeknow.kbyethanx. Summaries change according to PoV Updates on Thursdays & Sundays. ALSO THIS FIC WON’T HAVE NSFW, there might be partial/suggestive scenes (cussin’; tension) but no smut. That would be/might be another thing entirely.
summary: From the moment they met Michael knew Jeremy was special. Then the moment he touched him, he knew his best friend was his soulmate. And although both of them can see color now, Jeremy is more colorblind to Michael than ever before.
warning: pot mentioned; Michael pinings begin
w/c: 3198
sincerely tagging:
@guns-and-squips (betabae); @mishaisakitten @fandomgeek34 @theunidentifiedfangirl @gayrhodians @ka-rin7204 @nekothecatblog @binxi1031 @spilling-tea @loststardraws @green-llama @walkingcontadiction @purpledays9 @bouquetofllamas @hacks-the-trash @spoiledbuni @angryhatefulcoffee-man @gum-and-chips @redhoodiehearts @icouldhaveabettername @bemoresquip @anxiouscassette @bigdumbpigeon @blind-duck @multiotp @cherry-chree @violentwonders @memejocksupreme @fruityfrootloops @optimisticweirdo @beafayette @bacongirl86 @ho-tdogwater @cloudydoodle @treebrosofficial @hamilamstrash @artsietango

02.←Pining! Achievement Unlocked →.03


Holy shit.

Michael knew immediately he was dreaming or at the very least hallucinating. That didn’t mean his body didn’t react realistically. His face was throbbing with heat, he felt like he could have cooked an egg on his forehead. He propped himself up on the bed and opened his mouth to speak but the only sound they came out was a squeak, while Jeremy’s hands slid up his hoodie. His hands found the strings to the hoodie and began to pull on them until Michael followed with the tug, upward towards Jeremy’s pink face. “J-J-Jeremy?” Michael tried to find something to latch on to. Something to ground him back and remind him this was a dream.

All he saw was big blue eyes and Jeremy’s lips get closer to his face. The fine, pink lines puckered until they touched…

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The Long Game

standalone; nc-17; smut & fluff; season 7; it’s pretty much PWP between two agents who are stupidly in love and probably mistakenly believe they have all the time in the world to be together. 

***

She doesn’t kiss him when he gets off the plane, bleary-eyed and harassed, although she kind of wants to. Pissy Mulder with his grim little mouth is cute when it’s not directed at her or government conspiracies or poor nurses who have no clue why he’s shouting at them. He mutters some interesting curses while throwing bags around in the luggage claim and Scully watches him patiently, hands clasped behind her back. 

When he finally finds his bag he curses a little more, but his tone lifts, and when he swivels to see Scully standing behind him, his face goes soft and the tension drains from his body like air from a popped balloon.

“Scully,” he smiles. “Hi.” 

He is not a little bit shamed by his petulant display.

“Hi yourself,” Scully says. She reaches to smooth some wrinkles from his jacket, and his eyes follow her hands. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a whole lot of terrible Chinese takeout with our names on it.”

He doesn’t kiss her, either, but it’s pretty obvious he wants to.

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Olicity Drabble~ Consequences

Originally posted by itsmamukibhanji

So this would by my dream chat between Oliver and Felicity in say 5x20. This has no chance in hell of happening but hey it made me feel so much better! Enjoy! 

Consequences 

“That door still makes a lot of noise doesn’t it?” she lightly hollered from her seated position along the dust laden floor. He stopped at the midway of the once often used stairs. The time spent unused made them feel weak as if time itself had caused the iron to rot from the inside. Her red rimmed eyes flew towards as he lumbered downward; in turn he gazed at her sadly. Her once bright eyes no longer lit up when he entered the room, now they flickered with despair at the state of their once unbreakable bond.

His nose crinkled slightly in faded humor, “Felicity you know the entire police department is looking for you right?” 

He watched her head tilt in disinterest, “You know I never noticed how damp and dark this place actually was…I guess it takes a change of perspective to see what’s really there doesn’t it?” 

Oliver held back a pained sighed, “How drunk are you?” 

She hiccupped but it wasn’t the one he’d expected, “I’m sober Oliver or should I say Ollie since he’s the person you’ve become since you chose to fight for a relationship with Susan.” 

He padded down the few remaining hard steps and didn’t reply until his feet were over the hard, cold, and still wet cement of the old lair’s unforgiving floors. “So you’re starting with the cheap shots I see…” 

She snapped her head and glared darkly, “No, I’d just rather avoid another pointless conversation with a man I barely know.” 

He shoved his nervous fingers into his pockets and crossed the empty room. She kept her rigid body pressed against the furthest pillar as he himself used to do. Her usually perfect blonde hair was now almost dirty blonde, her nails were chipped, her cuticles were bleeding along the sides, and her skin was pale. “I didn’t come here to hurt you Felicity, I just came to talk,” he breathed in torment as the light flickered above her face. 

She shot those dark, grey, stormy eyes at him for a moment before they fell back to her knotted fingers. Her once brightly colored lips now cracked as she curved them into a dark smile, “Hmmm now you want to talk. Isn’t that just great,” she sneered snidely.  

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just a touch of your love

Louis looked at her classmate and suddenly felt like she was under a spotlight, the full force of those green eyes on her like lasers — hot and scorching, despite the cool manufactured air pumping through the lecture hall.  

“I’m Louis.  Louis Tomlinson.”  She thrust her hand out, awkward and probably way too polite.  

The other girl arched an eyebrow and slid out of her seat.  She was tall.   And lanky, with knobby knees sticking out from under her thin cotton skirt. Her black combat boots were clunky and ungainly, but her long, tan arms were graceful and pretty as she extended her own hand toward Louis’.  

“Harry Styles.”

Their palms slid together like flower petals skating over a newly thawed pond and Louis felt a cool rush of relief slither through her body.  

***
The only thing standing in the way of Harry and Louis getting together are…well, Harry and Louis.


Girl!Direction.  15K.

Read the rest here.

This is part of a prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt “Cat”. To read the other amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, you can click here and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, you can click here.

Until I Turn to Dust

(A/N) I can’t believe it took me until my last fic to include Declan and Matthew smh
It’s been so much fun writing for pynch week this year!!!! The prompts were fun and it was cool to see what everyone else’s takes on them were as well~
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, AND PROVIDING SUCH AMAZING SUPPORT IN GENERAL I CAN’T THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH <3 You gave me the motivation I needed to actually sort of stay on schedule xD;;

I really hope you enjoy the final fic, and thank you so much again!! :’)

P.S. The Script song I used for the quote and the title of this chapter is very pynch in my opinion, please check it out!!


I fell for you and I never got up

I stay here forever ‘til I turn to dust

Just take every minute make it last for life

24/7 baby 3-6-5.

-“The Energy Never Dies” by The Script


Every moment of his waking life, and often his sleeping one too, Ronan feels like he has accidentally stumbled upon happiness.

He never thought he would meet someone like Gansey, who sticks with him even through all of Ronan’s worst hours, who was and always will be the friend that Ronan has needed more than anything. He never thought he would meet someone like Blue, who challenges him every day for being an asshole by also being an asshole, something he didn’t realize he loves as much as he does until she came into his life. He never thought he would start to get along with Declan, that he would actually maybe look forward to the times when all three Lynch brothers can be together.

And most of all, he never would’ve thought in a million years that he would meet someone like Adam Parrish. Someone who is so bright and sarcastic, someone who was given the shittiest hand in the entire world and through pure grit and determination got himself to someplace better. Someone who can and dares to fight back with Ronan but then can also pick him out of the dust and remains of his worst fears and give him something to hold onto. He’s been in love with Adam for two whole years, and not once during that entire time did he think he would ever get to kiss him. That Adam would kiss him back. That Adam goddamn Parrish would say yes when he asked him out.

But he did.

It hits Ronan especially hard in the early hours of the morning, when he’s watching Adam sleep peacefully beside him, that he is so incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon this kind of pure and relentless happiness. Just earlier, Adam had let Ronan leave kisses all over his body, especially his hands, and he’d blown Ronan so hard that minutes after he could still see nothing but stars and Adam Adam Adam. Ronan learned that Adam looks gorgeous with sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead and with that tiny little smile that Adam saves just for him. Ronan also learned that Adam is extremely ticklish on his ribcage, something that he plans to take full advantage of in the future.

He feels blessed every moment that Adam Parrish has let him be this close to him, for allowing him to love him and to be loved in return. Ronan is closer to Adam than anyone else has been before, he’s pretty sure, and it blows his mind.

It’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

When he wakes up that Sunday morning, Adam is practically sprawled on top of Ronan—not an unusual occurrence, considering that Adam’s mattress is the smallest thing in the entire universe—and Ronan has never felt so content and happy. There’s drool drying on his shoulder where Adam’s head lolls and one of his knobby knees is digging uncomfortably into Ronan’s thigh, but he never wants to move again. Adam smells like his pine-scented aftershave and oil and his warmth against Ronan is perfect enough to make him think he died and went to heaven.

Because this would be his heaven – getting to lie in bed with Adam for all of eternity, drawing his fingers gently through his incredibly silky hair and admiring his beautiful hands.

There is no place he would rather be so he refuses to get up, even though he knows Declan and Matthew will be here soon for church and that he actually needs to put a suit on. Instead he entertains himself by counting the freckles on Adam’s shoulder blades. He keeps losing track and having to start over again, but he’s at ninety-three when someone knocks concisely on the door, rousing Adam.

It’s obviously Declan, so Ronan stubbornly remains in bed as he calls out, “It’s open!”

Declan walks in, scans the room for a moment, and then swears and puts a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, you didn’t warn me you were indecent!”

“I’m always indecent,” Ronan snorts as a very sleepy Adam rolls off him and nearly onto the floor in an attempt to get up. “Relax, it’s not like we’re naked.”

A blessing that only occurred because Adam had predicted last night that they would not be able to wake up and get dressed before Ronan’s brothers appeared. Ronan loves how right Adam is about these things.

“What time is it?” Adam asks between a loud yawn that gives Ronan an amazing view of his teeth and bruised lips.

For this first time in his entire life, Ronan kind of wants to skip church.

“Nine – Ronan should’ve been ready ten minutes ago,” Declan says irritably, hands on his hips.

“We’re above the church, it’ll literally take us ten seconds to get down there,” Ronan argues as he pulls himself off of Adam’s mattress and pokes around the room in search of his dress pants. He knows he brought them to Adam’s place last night, but he lost track of them in the heat of the moment.

“And yet we’re still going to be late!” Declan snaps.  

Ronan ignores him and, finally finding his pants, starts to get dressed. Matthew, ever the ball of sunshine and never one to be deterred by his older brothers’ bickering, dashes into the apartment and nearly tackles Adam to the floor in what must be a spine-crushing hug. “Adam, my man! Are you joining us today?”

“No, I have some homework to catch up on,” Adam says as he awkwardly pats Matthew’s head. The idea of church has always been a little bit uncomfortable for Adam, Ronan knows, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who picks up on the uncertainty in his tone. “Say hi to Ms. Bertha for me, though.”

Ronan snorts loudly. “Ms. Bertha! Everything’s always about Ms. Bertha.”

He doesn’t actually have anything against the old lady; she’s been kind to Adam, like secretly leaving food on his doorstep or bringing him clothes she convinces him no one else will take, methods that Ronan greatly approves of. It’s just that every time he talks to her now she asks him things like: “How is Adam today?” or “Are you treating Adam well, Ronan? That boy deserves the world.” And while Ronan agrees, it’s fucking annoying; he hates having to talk about his feelings for Adam, especially to other people. It’s embarrassing.

Adam, knowing all of this, just smirks at him. His bedhead and the still sleepy look in his eyes makes Ronan want to pounce him. “You jealous, Lynch?”

“No, why? Should I be? Didn’t know you were into old hags, Parrish.”

Adam throws a pillow at him, making Ronan snicker. Declan scoffs loudly and taps the expensive watch on his wrist impatiently. “As riveting as this old married couple bickering is, we’re late, Ronan!”

“Christ, calm the fuck down will you?” Ronan snaps back, irritably tugging his tie on. “I’m ready, I’m ready – it only took me like two minutes!”

“And yet you can still never bother to be on time!” Declan rolls his eyes before grabbing Matthew and pulling him out the door. “Come on then!”

Ronan’s about to follow, complaining all the way of course, when Adam suddenly grabs his shoulder. “Wait.”

“Can’t get enough of me, Parrish?” Ronan teases, leaning into Adam and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Adam rolls his eyes, but doesn’t gift Ronan with the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he just starts fixing his tie, his long fingers making deft work of the shimmery fabric. “You’ve been going to church every week of your life and you still can’t tie your tie properly.”

“It’s a fashion statement,” Ronan retorts, deciding to be annoying by attempting to kiss Adam while he straightens his tie.

“You’re a menace,” Adam says, making Ronan cackle. But suddenly Adam is pulling him forward by his tie, leaving a firm kiss on his lips. Ronan stares at him in wonder, his knees starting to wobble at the suggestive smirk on Adam’s face. “You’re much more attractive when your tie is on straight, though.”

“…Why do you always do this when I have to leave, Parrish?” Ronan groans, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Adam’s hair as he kisses him desperately.

“You only ever dress up when you’re going to church – what else am I supposed to do?” Adam teases, but Ronan is about two seconds from deciding to wear a tie for the rest of his life.

He’s about to say this out loud, but Declan’s annoying voice hollers up the stairs, “Ronan! We’re missing the service!”

Ronan growls and kisses Adam one more time before retreating reluctantly. “My suit will still be on afterwards, Parrish,” he says as he pounds down the stairs.

When he looks back up, Adam is leaning on the handrail, grinning at him. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing nothing but one of Ronan’s tanks and his boxers and for the millionth time Ronan is almost drawn back upstairs. “I look forward to it, Lynch.”

Declan pulls him away before he can say anything more, and Adam’s words replaying over and over again in his head is the only thing that keeps him from growling at him for it. Matthew sidles up beside him as they walk into the church, quietly sitting down in a pew near the back, and whispers, “You two are cute.”

Ronan blushes, but he can’t respond to that either because the service has already begun.

The three brothers fall into silence; going to church is the only time the three of them are still and quiet around each other instead of yelling and roughhousing. Ronan tries his best to pay attention to the sermon, but more often than not he finds his mind trailing back to Adam. He wonders what he’s doing right now, if his eyebrows are furrowed in that cute little expression of concentration he has, or what his hands look like working right now…

Every time, he has to forcibly derail his thoughts before they become too graphic for the inside of a church.

When the sermon is over and the space becomes open for confession, Ronan gets in line behind Declan, like he always does. As he’s waiting in line, he thinks about how different of a place he’s in now. He’s spent most of his life hating himself for who he is, either because of his dreams or because of his sexual orientation, and now he has a boyfriend, one that he loves openly and with his entire being. Declan, Matthew, and some nice old ladies (including Ms. Bertha) that are friends of the family know about Adam and don’t shun them for it. It’s amazing to him. He’s in love with another man and no one has struck him down yet.

But he still hasn’t said it out loud. He’s introduced Adam as his boyfriend to a select few people, but he’s never said those three little words, or told anyone else in words how much he loves Adam. Though part of it is because he’s extremely bad at talking about his feelings, he wonders now if part of him had always been afraid that something terrible would happen if he said it out loud. If it would somehow ruin his happiness instead of expanding it.

He thinks of Adam’s sleepy little smile and wonders if it’s time to stop being silent.

He makes up his mind right as Declan comes out of the confession box and pats him on the shoulder. The touch could mean anything, and probably means behave yourself, but Ronan likes to think of it as encouragement.

Ronan shuffles into the confession box and sits down. He can see nothing but the grated window and it makes it easier to pretend he’s alone, even though he can hear the minister breathing on the other end. He takes a deep breath, rubs his hands over his buzzed scalp. Father Arnold is always patient with him, more patient than Ronan thinks anyone in his entire life has ever been with him, and best of all doesn’t push him to talk. They’ve had many confessions where they just sit in silence, Ronan either struggling or disinterested in saying anything. As he takes his time finding his words, he knows that Father Arnold knows it’s him. He always seems to know, even though it’s supposed to be anonymous. To be fair though, Ronan is probably the only person who has sat here for years, fighting with himself to say out loud what he hadn’t even let himself think until recently.

His second secret. The one he’s kept so locked up that for a long time he’d even kept it from himself.

Except, it’s no longer a secret: he’s told himself, and maybe even more terrifying he’s showed Adam. He showed him his deepest darkest secret, and by showing Adam he’d also shown Declan, Gansey, Blue, Matthew, Henry, and those old ladies.

And now, for the first time in a long time, Ronan has something to say.

“Father, I have sinned,” Ronan eventually murmurs, though it still takes him a while to force the words out. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists at his sides as he continues, “But it doesn’t feel like I’ve sinned.”

Father Arnold doesn’t even sound surprised as he says, “And what is it that you did?”

This part is even harder to admit. Ronan has never uttered it aloud, not even to Adam. He doesn’t know how to form the words in his mouth. He has kept this secret for so long that it’s hard to tell, even though he wants to.

“I kissed Adam Parrish,” he finally blurts out, and he feels free, elated, terrified. Something tight in his chest throbs and releases and suddenly he’s free falling, open and unrestricted but with absolutely no idea where he’s going to land. “You know, the guy who’s renting the room upstairs? I kissed him and asked him out and he said yes. And Father, it’s the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me.”

Realizing belatedly that he shouldn’t have used that particular curse in confession, he mumbles, “Sorry.”

Father Arnold is silent for a long time, silent for so long that the wide open space inside Ronan starts to close up again and suddenly he’s purely afraid that he fucked up. That Father Arnold will break his code and go out and tell the bigots at the church and they’ll be shunned and mocked. Adam could lose his apartment and God Ronan hasn’t thought this through at all…

“Being in love is not a sin, Ronan,” Father Arnold finally says, and the use of his name almost surprises Ronan more than the actual words. “Love is compassion, and compassion is what makes this world our Lord has created great. Compassion is what makes connections, brings you fulfillment, and improves the lives of yourself and those around you. You hold so much compassion within you Ronan that I’m sure it must be hard for you contain it, but it is never a sin. You have found someone that means the world to you, and that is okay, even if he is another boy. You will help each other and grow together, and I sincerely believe that that is a good thing. The Lord is happy as long as you are happy.”

Ronan has no idea what to say to that, his heart is pounding so hard he isn’t sure he can say anything at all, but before he can figure it out Father Arnold continues, “Are you happy, Ronan?”

“Yes, Father,” Ronan replies immediately, his fingers loosening their tight grip on his pants. “Adam makes me so happy that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes.”

“Then you are where you are meant to be, my child,” Father Arnold says, and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice.

He swallows thickly. “Thank you, Father.”

And then he practically runs out of the confession box because he needs to move, to expel the sudden elated energy that explodes inside of him. He ignores Matthew’s surprised expression as he runs out of the church, feeling wild and hyper. He wants to laugh, he wants to cry, he wants to roll on the grass and set the world on fire because he feels so alive. Everything is going his way for once and he feels like he doesn’t have to hide who he is or be afraid.

He’s never felt so light and free in his entire life.

Declan is standing outside waiting for them when Ronan crashes out of the church like a crazy person, and he jumps a little as he looks up from his phone. “Ronan, what the hell—?”

But Ronan ignores him too and pounds up the steps back to Adam’s apartment, not even bothering to knock as he barges his way in. Adam is sitting exactly where he imagined he would be, huddled over his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as his brain works out what appears to be a complicated calculus problem.

He looks up as Ronan enters, not even surprised. The soft smile on his face makes Ronan’s heart soar even higher. “Hey, you. How did it go?”

Ronan doesn’t bother to reply, he doesn’t think he can express the flurry of emotions in his chest, so he just runs over and scoops Adam up in his arms, holding him as tightly as he can and swirling him around in a circle. Adam lets out a surprised yelp, looking frazzled as he grips onto Ronan for dear life. When Ronan sets him back down on the ground, he frowns and presses the back of his hand to Ronan’s forehead, like he’s worried he has a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

And Ronan laughs, because really, what a question.

“I’ve never felt better in my goddamn life,” Ronan says, and he leans in to kiss Adam breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, Adam.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, and it feels like a giant weight is lifted from his back. He feels like he could run a marathon, swim across an entire ocean, pull at least ten things out of his dreams at once. Seeing the startled look on Adam’s face, though, he hurries to add, “I don’t expect you to say it back or anything, I just…I just needed you to know.”

For a moment Adam just blinks at him, but then he’s smiling a shy smile and Ronan can’t help but lean in and kiss him again. When they part, Adam draws a finger down Ronan’s jaw and whispers, “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me.”

This piece of knowledge makes Ronan angry and sad and everything in between, but instead of indulging these emotions he just kisses Adam’s good ear and whispers back, “Then I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it. You deserve to hear it all the goddamn time, Adam.”

“Oh God, please don’t say it that often, I don’t think I can handle that,” Adam laughs shakily, and he’s blushing as Ronan presses another kiss to his lips. That’s fine – he won’t be able to say it that often either, if he’s being realistic. He’ll just throw it in when Adam needs the reminder.

Or when he’s least expecting it. That blush is doing wonders to Ronan’s heart.

“Hey, Matthew’s done – are you two lovebirds ready to go to lunch, or—?” Declan says, walking into the room right as Ronan had parted his lips so Adam could sneak his tongue into his mouth. “Jesus Christ!!”

“Declan, please, we’re above a church,” Adam says, and Ronan drops his head down onto his shoulder as he dissolves into laughter.

Declan opens his mouth and closes it again about three or four times before throwing his arms up into the air and stalking back out of the apartment. Ronan chuckles and hugs Adam’s waist, swaying gently as he kisses his neck. “You know, we could go for lunch, or we could do something else, taking full advantage of my suit…”

“Hm, I’m actually pretty hungry though,” Adam says and to Ronan’s utter dismay steps away from him and walks to his desk, stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets and heading out the door. Ronan’s still gaping at him when he turns around to face him again, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Never mind, Parrish, I take it back!” he shouts, but he obviously doesn’t mean it as he runs to Adam, leaving one last kiss on his lips before they walk down to Declan’s Volvo, hand in hand.

 –

A couple of weeks later they’re at the Barns, lazing around in the faint afternoon sunlight that lingers on the living room couch. Ronan is lying on his front, shirtless, and Adam is huddled next to him, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with his calloused fingers. They’d been talking about meaningless things before and now are perfectly content to sit in silence, just appreciating the other’s warmth and presence. It’s a rare moment when Adam is fully caught up on work and school and Ronan wants to take complete advantage of it.

“Hey, you know?” Adam says quietly after a while. Ronan turns his head to the side to stare at him questioningly. But Adam just shakes his head and laughs to himself, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. Ronan watches the action with way too much attention and interest. “Shit, that was the stupidest way to start this.”

Ronan is even more confused than before. “Just spit it out, Parrish.”

“I love you,” Adam blurts; his direct gaze on Ronan when he says it nearly shatters him. “I mean it – I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you, Ronan.”

“…Adam,” Ronan chokes, and for a horrifying moment he’s worried he’s going to start crying. He never could’ve guessed how intensely happy hearing Adam say that to him would make him, and he’s thus unprepared to deal with it. It hits him like a tidal wave and warms his entire body, leaving him shaking, ecstatic, and so very alive.

He tackles Adam, pressing down onto him as he hugs him as tightly as he can at this awkward angle. Adam laughs and wraps one arm around Ronan’s shoulders while using the other hand to caress the back of his head, his fingers automatically rubbing through the fuzz on top of Ronan’s head. “Ronan…!”  

“I love you too,” Ronan gasps, high from the way Adam had said his first name as he nuzzles into Adam’s neck. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

Adam laughs again, cutely embarrassed like he is every other time Ronan says it, and it just makes him love him more. “Careful, God might strike you down for saying that.”  

But Ronan knows God is chill with it, and that just seems to make today that much brighter. 

Evie

Her mother considered drowning her when she was born but as a child Evie was not the great beauty that Snow White was. She was a scrawny thing with pale wispy hair and deep dark eyes that were too wide and solemn. No, she would not surpass her, her mother was certain of it. And so little Evie became her poison princess, her apprentice in the dark arts. Hemlock, Nightshade, Belladonna, Oleander, Evie knew more about poisonous plants than she did of people. The art of poison and potions comforted Evie, it was predictable and scientific unlike her mother who was prone to fits of passionate lunacy that left the house broken and Evie bruised. But in times like those, Evie had her apothecary to retreat to, surrounded by her poisons she was sure of her place in the world as an harbinger of death.

Until the day she wasn’t. Until the day her neighbor, a slight boy with knobby knees and splattered freckles, came pounding on her door, begging her to save his friend who was sick. Until Evie looked around at her plants and realized that the same dainty hands who could easily bring upon destruction was also capable of being someone’s salvation. After saving the tanned boy with the waterfall of inky black hair, she cemented her place as the Isle’s official doctor. Turning her back on her dark destiny, she found another  purpose.

A purpose involved with a lavender hair dragon girl with a braying laugh, a  fashion mogul boy with charm and sad eyes, and a smooth talking thief with a thousand stories to tell and a thousand lies. The pale girl of the Evil Queen dyed her hair a dark midnight blue like a starry night because she and her friends, they were made of star dust and dreams.

Keep reading

The True Epilogue (a Harry Potter fanfic)

*in which all my ships are true and things are great*

Several pairs of curious eyes followed the family of five as they pushed through the crowd at Kings Cross Station toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Atop the packed trolleys that the parents pushed were two cages- one containing a beautiful snowy owl and the other a badger, which made grumpy noises every few seconds.
“Hang in there, Comet,” the black-haired boy said placatingly. “I know it’s no fun, but you’ve got to behave.”
“I don’t know why you had to bring the stupid thing anyway,” his brother said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not on the approved list.”
“Yes, but he’s injured!”
“All your pets are or were injured.”
“And he has separation anxiety!”
“I bet they’ll take it away from you.”
“James!” their father scolded as Matthew’s bright blue eyes widened in fear. “Don’t say things like that. Your dad and I wrote to Headmistress McGonagall in advance, and she said it was fine.” Draco put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “No one is going to take Comet away.”
“Hey,” Harry said suddenly, “there’s Ginny, Luna, and the girls.” The youngest Potter shrieked and made to run toward the family friends, but Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Callisto Ariana Potter, what have we told you about running off?” he scolded. She smiled cheekily.
“Not to do it, I think.”
“Well, you think right. Look, here they are now, anyway.” The other family reached them, and there were cheerful greetings all around.
“So, shall we cross over?” Luna asked, and Ginny nodded. Their oldest daughter, Nymphadora, took a step forward, but her sister exclaimed, “Wait!” Nym raised an eye brow.
“What is it, Gillian?” The redhead bounced excitedly on her toes as she answered.
“This is Matty and my first year going through as actual students, so we should get to go first!” Matt held up both hands to show that he was not a part of this. Nym was already squinting, though.
“I say, whoever gets through first gets through first,” she said challengingly. She and Gillian turned and raced for the barrier together, disappearing through it within a second of each other. Ginny sighed in exasperation, pushing a trolley forward to follow them. Luna only looked amused as she trailed after her wife. Callisto tugged on Draco’s sleeve.
“I thought you said no running,” she told him, frowning.
“Yes, but I can’t control what they do. They’re not my children.” This argument lost its value, though, when James pushed ahead through the barrier as well. Harry groaned.
“I promise I’ll talk to him, Callie,” he said to avoid the rising complaints. The rest of the family followed James.
“Can I go this year, Daddy?” Callie asked. Harry shook his head with a chuckle.
“Just one more year, sweetheart.” She scowled and stamped the ground.
“Dad?” Matt said as James boarded the train with Nym (though Gillian stayed behind to wait). “Do you know what House I’m gonna be in?” Harry smiled and shook his head.
“No one knows for sure ahead of time,” he said, “but I know you’ll be great no matter what.”
“And luckily,” Draco added, “you know kids in every House, so you’ll always have someone to talk to.” Callie tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I’m gonna be a Slytherin,” she said confidently. A little bit of pride shone in Draco’s eyes.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Alright, Matt. Go on and take your stuff,” Harry said gently. “You and Gillian should get on board. You don’t want to get left behind. Matt nodded and moved toward the train, then swiveled and threw himself into his father’s arms.
"I’m gonna miss you,” he said. Harry hugged him hard.
“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.” Matt hugged Draco too, and then he and Gillian got their stuff and waded through the small crowd to the train door.
“We’ll write!” Draco called after him.
“Every day, if you want!” Harry added. Matt gave them a slightly wavering grin before disappearing.
__________

Matthew thought he was ready for the Sorting. He thought he’d either be in Gryffindor, like Harry, or Slytherin like Draco. He definitely was not expecting the Sorting Hat to yell out “HUFFLEPUFF!” the moment it touched his head. To ecstatic cheers from his new Housemates, he made his way dazedly toward the Hufflepuff table. He’d heard Hufflepuffs called ‘duffers’ and 'goody two-shoes’ and even once 'the stoner House’, none of which sounded very positive to Matt. Still, he put on a brave face. A cobalt-haired Teddy Lupin clapped him on the back as he sat down.
“Glad to have you, Matt!” he enthused. That’s right! Teddy’s a Hufflepuff, and he’s not so bad. This thought didn’t erase his disappointment entirely, but it did help. What helped even more was hearing another shout of “HUFFLEPUFF!” immediately following a call of “Weasley, Gillian”. Matt broke into a grin as his best friend sat beside him.
“I can’t believe I’m a Hufflepuff,” he stage-whispered to her. Surprisingly, she rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Oh, please. Like you could have been anything else.” His eyebrows furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see. For starters, you’re a vegetarian. You always get one of your dads to take you to random volunteer things. You never let anyone get away with saying mean things. You take in injured animals- you’ve literally got twenty different pets now, if you hadn’t noticed- and your favorite just happens to be a badger, the symbol of Hufflepuff House. Honestly, if you’d been sorted anywhere else, I would have died of surprise.” Matt laughed.
“Well, when you put it like that.”
Any remaining worries he had about his Sorting vanished the moment they stepped foot in the common room. It was vastly wide and round, with honey-colored walls. The lighting was a mixture of natural light coming through the circular windows and and a warmer, golden light shining from within glass spheres on intricately carved stands. The room itself felt like mid-autumn and laughter. Best of all, there were animals. Matt suddenly understood why the Headmistress had given in to his parents’ request to accept Comet so quickly. There were maybe two dozen creatures- some magical (like a pixie and a clutter of puffskeins), some nonmagical (like a hawk, a dog, a rabbit, and a beautiful peacock). Matt heard a loud noise and turned.
“Comet!” The excited badger barreled across the room and into his legs. Matt crooned as he and Gillian bent down to pet it. A few of their new Housemates crowded around to coo at the addition to their strange zoo.
“I think this little guy will be happy here,” Teddy said. “As far as I know, we’ve never had a badger. Which is honestly ridiculous, given our symbol.” Matt laughed. I think I’m gonna like it here.
__________

James had never felt so ashamed and rejected. The words still echoed in his head. “Not the right fit,” they had said. He, James Alexander Potter, wasn’t the right fit for Gryffindor seeker. It was humiliating. After all, his own dad had supposedly been the best seeker Gryffindor ever had, and Draco had been his Slytherin counterpart. Yet James had failed.
It wasn’t that James was vain or inflexible- when they said he’d make a better chaser, he’d tried out with all his effort and scored the spot. It was a matter of belonging. James, the oldest, was the only one of the Potter children who wasn’t the biological child of either parent. Matt was Harry’s- as anyone could see by the untamable hair and the awkward knobby knees. Callie was Draco’s- again apparent by the blonde hair and the confident ambition. James was alone with his plain brown hair and hazel eyes and his (apparent) lack of Seeking skills. To add insult to injury, this meant he was the only one with no blood ties to the Lovegood/Weasley family, which had been interwoven with the Potters’ in the cases of Matt and Callie, as well as Nym and Gillian. In any case, he wasn’t sure what to do now. He had no other way to prove himself worthy of being the son of the Chosen One.
“You know it doesn’t matter to them,” Aiden Finnigan told him. “Your dads, I mean. You’re their son, and they love you.” They were in the Gryffindor common room that evening, and James gazed into the fire, only half-listening as he dwelled on his own shame. He sighed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just… man, you know I don’t normally care what people think of me, but this is different. People look at Matt and they see Harry Potter. They don’t even act much alike, but Matt’s got the look and that’s enough for everyone. Me, what have I got?”
“Bravery, willingness, an open mind, a mischievous nature, and great taste in friends.” James looked up from the fire for the first time in ten minutes, a ghost of a smile crossing his face, and gave his best friend a light push.
“Hey, I’m serious,” Aiden continued. “I mean, I’m not much like either of my dads. I mean, I’ve been told I look like a Finnigan, but I definitely don’t act like one. And Dad #2 likes to joke that I got my extreme height from him, even though I don’t carry any of his blood. I don’t act much like him either. And that doesn’t bother me. We’re not meant to be pale echoes of our parents anyway; we’re meant to find and shape our own identities.” James nodded.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“As always.”
“Oh, shut it.”
A few days later, James’s owl showed up at breakfast with a letter from Harry.

Jamie-
I heard you made the Quidditch team, and I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it if you wanted to- I’ve watched you fly, and you’re fantastic. Make sure to keep your nerves in check before games, okay? Ron can vouch for the fact that anxiety is a Quidditch player’s worst enemy. I’m not worried, though. Oh, I wish your Grandpa James could see you now. You know I never got to see him play, but he was a Chaser too in his day- don’t know if I ever told you that. He was also a hell of a prankster, just like you. McGonagall won’t tell you anything, because she can’t be seen condoning troublemaking, but if you see Fred floating around, he’ll tell you all the use he and George got out of the Marauders Map when they were students. Grandpa James is the one known as Prongs. I wish I could show you the map personally, but it went blank when Teddy’s dad died- he was the last Marauder standing; they called him Moony. Sorry, I’ve gone off on a tangent. My point is, we’re all proud of you, and your grandparents would be too. Lots of love,
-Dad

James was stunned. His grandfather, the one he had been named for, was a Gryffindor chaser? How had he not known? He re-read the note once, twice. It appeared that he was a bit of a Potter after all. He was curious about this Map thing too; he’d better find Fred.
__________

Ben was tired. Okay, maybe that was an understatement. “Exhausted” might have worked better; “barely functioning” was near perfect. He was tired because it was midnight and he was sitting in the hallway outside his common room. He was physically capable of going inside and lying down in his nice warm bed to sleep, but he could never do that. Neither could the thirteen other Slytherins sitting out in the hallway with him, including Nym. A prefect had come out three times now to order them all to bed, but no one budged.
“I’m not stepping foot in that place until they change the password,” Ben had told her the third time she came out. She had thrown up her hands and not come back, which earned Ben a few pats on the back.
The hallway was quiet enough that Ben could hear the footsteps long before anyone appeared down the far end.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered. Everyone tensed. Would they be punished for this? Ben hoped not, but he needn’t have worried. He let out a breath of relief when he saw Teddy Lupin heading toward them. The Head Boy had probably been summoned to help mitigate the situation.
“What’s going on here, guys?” he asked.
“The new password is offensive,” a fifth year girl answered, “and we’re not going in until they change it.” Teddy Lupin frowned- not at those in the hallway, of course, but rather at the situation.
“Oh? What’s the password?”
“Clean blood,” Nym spat disgustedly. Teddy only sighed outwardly, but his hair turning scarlet was a clear sign of his true anger.
“Alright, well we can’t have you lot just sitting in the hallway, so you’ll have to come stay with us for the night.” There were hesitant nods all around, and the beginnings of smiles on a few faces. Staying with the Hufflepuffs…
Before we go, I have to check who’s coming. Your prefects gave me the list of absent students. Please say 'here’ when I call your name. Jade Moorland?“
"Here,” said the fifth-year who’d spoken up earlier.
“Nymphadora Weasley?”
“Here,” Nym said, and Teddy smiled. He’d always seemed fond of the younger girl, though maybe it was because she bore his mother’s name.
“Joshua Bingham?”
“Here.” Teddy went on down the list, ending with “Benjamin Wood?”
“Here,” Ben answered.
“Alright, that’s everyone. Come on, you all!”
Ben liked the Hufflepuff common room. He liked how friendly everyone was. He liked the peacock, Heracles, who seemed to like him too. There were even more things he liked the next day: for instance, how a cluster of Ravenclaws took turns shooting charms at the Slytherin door, trying to change the password or else get it to open without one. Or how, when that failed, the Gryffindors- led by their prefect, who happened to be Ben’s older sister, Elizabeth- attempted to forcibly remove the door entirely. This series of tries failed as well, but it stirred up enough commotion to draw in the Headmistress and she, upon understanding the problem, rectified it immediately, to great cheers from all parties. Ben hugged his sibling.
“Thanks for the help, Lizzy,” he said.
“Any time, little brother. It’s a good thing you guys did here today, pushing for change. Dads will be proud.”
“Think so?”
“I know so. You’ll probably make prefect next year too.” Ben laughed.
“Oh, D1 would love that.” He imagined Percy’s face when he learned that both of his children were now prefects like he had been, and Ben felt a warm rush in his stomach. I’d love that too, he thought to himself. Lizzy just grinned.
__________

Daisy hadn’t meant to start crying in the middle of Charms class; she just couldn’t hold it back anymore. She’d been trying to control her distress since the letter had arrived that morning from her father, letting her know that Grandpa Vernon didn’t want them coming over for Christmas that year or, it seemed, any year following. Of course, Dudley hadn’t explicitly told his daughter why they were no longer welcome, but she wasn’t dumb enough that she couldn’t figure it out on her own: it was because she had magic. It was already her second year at Hogwarts, but at holiday time last year her grandparents hadn’t known yet. Now they did, and Grandpa didn’t want to see her anymore.
She cried silently, with her head down, but her fellow Ravenclaws didn’t miss her shaking shoulders, and the room got quiet. Anna Granger-Weasley, her closest friend and the only one who knew what had happened, put a comforting hand on Daisy’s back.
“I know it’s not the same,” she whispered, so as not to disturb the rest of the class, “but you guys are totally coming to our Holiday gathering instead.” Daisy turned her head to look at Anna with teary eyes.
“We are?”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s a huge get-together that we do every year in James and Matt’s backyard. My Granny Molly makes twice as much food as we need, even though there’s already thirty-three of us in total. Uncle Percy drinks too much mulled wine and then goes on a rant about something or other, except none of it makes sense. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Oliver fight over which of their Quidditch teams are better- Ginny plays Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and Oliver is Keeper for Puddlemere United. Uncle George tells us stories about Fred and him when they were students together. Aiden’s little sister Mallory, Professor Longbottom’s daughter Bex, and Callie sometimes decide to put on some silly show. It’s all great fun.” Daisy smiled weakly.
“Sounds great. You sure there’s room for me and my mum and dad?” Anna laughed softly.
“There’s always more room at a Weasley party, and the Potters’ backyard is distinctly huge.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Daisy tried to grin after that, but Anna could probably tell she wasn’t back at 100%, because at lunch she started up a game.
“It’s called the Story Game. We take turns adding a sentence to a story as we go along. The sentences have to make grammatical sense, but the plot can be as strange or random as you want.”
“Ooh, sounds fun. Can we join in?” Daisy and Anna looked up to see Matt, Gillian, and Nym sliding in beside them (The school had recently switched to an open-seating policy to maintain camaraderie between the Houses).
“Yeah, sure,” Daisy said, scooting to make more room.
“Alright, I’ll start,” Anna said eagerly. She drummed her fingers in thought for a moment. “Okay. Once, there was an old, grumpy sorcerer who lived in a cave on a mountain.” Gillian jumped in next.
“The people at the base of the mountain believed that if you brought the sorcerer a gift that he liked, he would grant you a wish in exchange.”
“Every day,” Matt added, “Someone took a gift up the mountain, but the sorcerer didn’t like any of them.”
“Then a new woman moved to the town below,” Daisy inserted nervously, hoping she was doing this right.
“She heard about the man on the mountain, but nothing about his powers,” Nym put in. Anna’s eyes brightened as she saw where Nym was going with this.
“The woman thought the man must be lonely and perhaps cold all by himself, so she took a warm blanket and a fresh batch of cookies and brought them to him,” she said.
“The man was touched by her genuine generosity,” Gillian said, “and he offered her anything she wanted.”
“She thought for a long while, and finally she decided,” Matt contributed.
“And she asked, 'Can you put some brains in my son Tobias’s head, because he hasn’t got any.”
Anna snorted at the mention of her brother, and suddenly the whole group had dissolved into laughter.
“You can n-never tell Toby about this,” Daisy choked out between giggles. They all shook their heads in agreement, still fighting to contain the wave of mirth.
“This is why you’re my favorite,” Anna informed Daisy gleefully, and Daisy grinned. These really are the people I want to spend my holidays with, she realized.
__________

Aiden’s heart started racing the second the blood red envelope landed in front of him at breakfast. He elbowed James, eyes wide with horror.
“It’s a Howler,” he said with a voice full of dread. James gave a sympathetic smile.
“It might not be so bad. Maybe it’s some really good news, or maybe it’s just a prank from someone. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Aiden shrugged.
“I mean, we did turn all Professor Longbottom’s gardening things pink and sparkly last week, but he didn’t seem to mind. I think he even sent a set home to Bex, who I’m sure was thrilled. It was an innocent bit of fun.” James smiled at the memory, but the smile dropped from his face almost immediately.
“Dude, it’s smoking at the edges.” Aiden jolted in alarm.
“Just open it, before it’s too late,” James counseled. Aiden took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and tore the envelope open.
When he heard his ten-year-old sister Mallory’s voice ring out, he thought he was safe. Just a prank after all. But then he heard her words.

“AIDEN OH MY GOD, I JUST FINISHED THE NEW SEASON OF NEVATERIA AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!!! STEVEN AND MABEL KISSED, AND THE SHIFTMEN KILLED CODY, AND JONATHAN TOLD CHRIS THAT HE COULDN’T SEE BEA ANYMORE. I’M DYING AND I HAD TO TELL YOU. OKAY, BYE!!!”

For a moment, there was dead silence in the Great Hall, and then a hundred people started shouting at once. They were all muggleborns or half-bloods who watched Nevateria, the current most popular sci-fi show, and they were all furious at Aiden.
“I’m sorry!” he yelled. “I didn’t ask her to tell me!” James frowned.
“What was all that about?” he asked. Oh. Aiden had forgotten that, even though James’s dad was raised by Muggles, they didn’t watch television very often.
“It’s a show,” he tried to explain. “One of the best shows. And Mallory just spoiled it for everyone.”
“Ah.”
Aiden was shamed by his non-pureblood peers for the rest of the day. It might have continued on longer, except that Toby Granger-Weasley ran up to him in the hallway after his last class, out of breath, and exclaimed, “The Room of Requirement can generate wifi!”
“What?!”
“AND it can be a movie theater!”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not! It’s officially the weekend. Let’s round everybody up and marathon Nevateria together, my guy! I’ve got Anna waiting in there so the room stays put. Whoever you pass, send them that way. We can get a few house elves to bring snacks. There’s tons of space, so if they want to watch too, that’s fine. Come on, let’s go!” Toby, Aiden, and James took off down the hallway together.
“Brilliant, you are!” Aiden exclaimed while they ran. “This is why you’re a Ravenclaw!”
The plan worked seamlessly. Everyone interested gathered in the Room of Requirement, sitting in movie theater seats, and they got the show to play. Several house elves carried around food and drink for those who wanted it, though a group of Hufflepuffs convinced two to sit down and watch for a while. It turned out Missy didn’t like it much, but Pokey was absolutely entranced. He babbled nonstop about the brilliance of it to his unfortunate neighbor, who happened to be Matt. Matt was too pleased at seeing a house elf freely enthuse about an interest to care. They all had a great time, and all the animosity toward Aiden ended. It was definitely a good day.
__________

There would certainly be more struggles ahead for the Potters, Granger-Weasleys, (Lovegood-)Weasleys, Finnigans, Woods, Longbottom, Lupin, and Dursley, but they didn’t have to worry. They were one huge team, a family, and they could handle anything. Well, almost anything. It turned out there was still a limit on how many animals a single person could bring into the school, which was a problem for Matt, who found himself missing his other creatures.
“You know, when they say don’t do something,” James said oh-so-helpfully, “they just mean don’t get caught doing it.” Matt shoved his brother, insisting that he wasn’t like that, but in the end he snuck all his animals into the castle, with help from Callie. Family meant helping each other, even if it’s helping them break school rules… didn’t it?

If You Like Making Love At Midnight [a E2!Barry Allen Smut]

a/n: apologizes, I did the wrong thing the first time with the luca imagine… because I’m stupid haha, *hides behind my hands* here’s the e2 smut


WARNING: Smut


Hands roam across your body, squeezing your stomach. A gasp leaves your lips and you flutter your eyelashes up at your husband, fingers sprawled out on his pale chest. “Barry… I need you… inside me.” you whisper, bucking your hips against his; forehead pressed to forehead.

Nodding vigorously, his spectacles fall down to the dip of his button nose. “O-okay, honey.” Barry positions his knobby knees on either side of your thighs, nibbling on his lower lip. The moment he slips his the tip of his dick into your pussy, you moan loudly, causing him to whimper, hands finding your thighs. “F-fuck. You’re so tig-ight…” he breathes heavily, pushing all of himself inside.

Your fingers card through his short, shiny hair, playing with the stands at the top of his neck. A little gasp leaves you and you hook your legs around his thin hips, heels intertwined. “Harder…” you pant, kissing his sharp jawline. The brunette obeys, snapping his hips more forcefully; breathing sharp and erratic breaths. “B-Barry… oh god, Barry, yes.” you praise, biting and sucking his skin.

Barry whimpers, hearing you scream profanities as he pounds into your pussy. “Y/N… sweetie… fuck…” he manages to get out, thin glasses slightly clouding his vision. Slowly, he grabs your breasts, leaning down and sucking on your nipple, making you groan. Bobbing his head up and down, he pinches the other, continuing to roll his slender hips.

“AGH! WHY?! WHY?!” Jace screams, fist wrapped around the doorknob, sea eyes wide in pure fear. Yelping, Barry pulls the thin sheet over the both of you. His glasses tumble off his face with that movement. “I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF DAD WOULD HELP ME WITH MY PROJECT!” he shouts, loose t-shirt flapping around his tiny torso as he covers his eyes.

Panting, Barry nods eagerly, messy chestnut locks bouncing. “Y-yes, yes, in a-” he gulps, panting harder. “In a minute.” he wheezes, waving his hand towards the teenager. Blushing, you watch Jace shut the door in a hurry before cringing at your husband. “I… oh god… it happened again…” Barry whines, nuzzling his face into your neck.

You pout, sighing as he pulls out of you. Huffing, you untangle your legs from his thin thighs, grabbing his glasses and playing with them. “You know… you’re just gonna be horny again in a hour…” you point out, handing him his spectacles.

A blush appears on his freckled cheeks and he looks down, sitting back on his heels, frowning. “I know…” he breathes, long arm outstretched, reaching for his inhaler on the nightstand. After shaking it, he pushes the top down, sucking in and holding, before exhaling slowly. “We’ll-We’ll try again tomorrow…”