molly the stick

Intersex Lily Luna Potter

My headcanons for intersex Lily Luna Potter:

While some intersex people are diagnosed later in life, Lily Luna was diagnosed as intersex at birth. The Healers immediately started debating the surgical procedures Lily Luna would need, only to be interrupted by Harry and Ron.

Harry: “is my baby healthy?”
Healer: “technically but…”
Harry *opening the delivery room door*: “so the baby is healthy?”
Healer “yes but surgery…”
Harry *steering the Healers towards the open door*: “oy Ron, does it sound like this person is saying that my baby is healthy?”
Ron *helping to crowd the Healers into the corridor*: “it does sound like they’re saying the baby is healthy”
Harry: “well if the baby is healthy I think we can put experimental, cosmetic surgeries on the back-burner, don’t you?”
Ron: *prying the Healer’s hands off the door frame* “yes that seems reasonable”
Harry: *pushing the door closed* “I think this conversation is over and…”
Healer: “Mr Potter I must insist…”
Ginny: *from the bed* “fucks sake, someone hold the baby and pass me my hexing stick”
*Molly silently hands Ginny her wand while the Healers back away from the door, hands raised in surrender*

Hermione disappeared to research intersex people in the magical world; returning a few hours later with half the Hogwarts Library and a stack of leaflets for intersex support groups. Two of which she’d actually helped found years before Lily Luna’s birth.

Harry was pleasantly surprised by The Prophet’s respectful announcement of Lily Luna’s birth (no misgendering, leaked medical details or speculation about the The Chosen One’s reaction). Harry later found out that within 72 hours of Lily Luna’s birth, Draco Malfoy had issued elaborate and terrifying threats of gender discrimination lawsuits to every magical editor in Britain.

Molly spent the next 3 months knitting the entire Weasley family bright yellow jumpers with purple O’s instead of the initials, inspired by the Intersex flag. Because there is no world where the Weasleys weren’t 110% extra about supporting their youngest grandchild.

When Lily Luna asked Aunt Fleur if wanting to know about makeup meant that they had to “choose” to be a girl Fleur stroked Lily Luna’s hair and told them that: “You know, the Beauxbaton’s boys were always so much better at applying makeup than the girls. They used to hold winged-eyeliner workshops in the Prefect’s bathrooms”. Lily Luna went home smiling and spent the rest of the afternoon teaching Al how to contour.

On their graduation from Hogwarts, Charlie invited Lily Luna out to the Dragon Reservations in Romania. They already knew that intersex characteristics were common among magical creatures but watching a flock of Scarlet Lilies at play still made Lily Luna well-up. Uncle Charlie may have also had something in his eye.


***


I started this post after realising that most of my headcanons for intersex Lily Luna won’t fit into my current fic. It’ll probably get a lot longer.

Please do let me know if you see anything insensitive or inaccurate in this post. It was written in consultation with two intersex people but I’m not personally intersex and welcome feedback :)

How to take drugs safely

So my city had a music festival this weekend and I just found out 2 people died and 57 were taken to the hospital. Now I use to use drugs and I do not anymore but I have a few pointers because I feel like the bigger drugs become and the new drugs we are creating where young teenagers are getting their hands on them and don’t know how to use them properly. Everyone wants to talk about not to use drugs but, no one wants to talk about how to safely use them if they choose to:

• DRINK WATER. DRINK TONS OF WATER. Have a bottle of water on you or accessible to you at all times! THIS IS IMPORTANT because you will get hospitalized and can die from dehydration. My friend smoked so much weed once and because she didn’t drink water she was rushed to the hospital from being dehydrated. And that’s only marijuana. Especially important if you’re at a festival.

• don’t mix drugs. Even weed and alcohol together just causes the spins. “Candy-flipping” sounds fun but it also sounds very disorienting which could lead to a bad time.

•don’t try to keep up with others, take things at your own pace. I promise you know your body more than anyone else and if they pressure you into taking more when you feel at your peak, tell them to fuck off. Because over dosing doesn’t sound fun and it can also lead you into a bad trip

•do it with people you trust and know very well for all of your first times. First of all, if anything goes wrong there is someone there to take care of you. Second, you trust where you’re getting it from. Third, can save you from terrible situations like rape or being robbed

• have a good playlist if you’re at home but if it’s acid don’t plan it because your music will base off your mood and if it’s Molly, you won’t stick to one song anyways

• trust me on this one and don’t shoot anything up

• if you feel yourself starting to think about whatever drug you’re doing too much, stop doing it. Addiction isn’t fun and someone out there cares about you and doesn’t want to see you go through that. (Except for weed but make sure you’re not lazy about it, you can be a productive stoner)

• DRINK FUCKING WATER

mychakk  asked:

If the prompt list is for promoting then: Are you fucking insane?! (Sherlolly please!) If not just ignore me XD nevertheless thank you! :)

thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it ♥♥


Molly fiddled with the hem of her ‘business skirt’, glancing up at the door in front of her leading to Mike’s office. She’d been invited to attend a meeting regarding the opportunity to study and teach pathology to eager students, which meant transferring to another location for the better part of half a year, somewhere up in Scotland, she’d heard. Molly had accepted immediately, deciding to worry about telling her friends later. Mrs. Hudson, John, Mary and Greg would be accepting and supportive, of that she was certain. She’d Skype Rosie and send her gifts and her mother could take Toby. That just left Sherlock…

The thought alone of telling him gave her a headache; she could already hear his excuses, how he needed her at Bart’s because none of the other pathologists were as lenient with body parts. Tough. He’d just have to cope. Molly quickly glanced at her watch, nervous excitement beginning to ripple through her stomach. That was when her phone buzzed.

URGENT. BAKER STREET. NOW

Molly blinked at her phone, wondering for the briefest moment if she should just drop everything and run to 221B.After all, the last time this happened, several police helicopters had followed Greg only to find out the consulting dick was stuck with his best man speech. Just as she’d decided to ignore it, another message came through.

PLEASE. I NEED YOU MOLLY

“Ah, Doctor Hooper,” Mike appeared at his door, then, flanked by a member of the Hospital board. He looked as nervous as she felt as he adjusted his tie and smiled forcefully, “we’re ready when you are.”

Molly swallowed – she hated letting Mike down but if anyone could understand her situation it would be her kind-hearted boss. “Err, thank you, but there’s been a change of plan. I’m terribly sorry to put you out, sir,” she addressed the chairman and smiled apologetically, “something has come up and I must leave. Thank you for the opportunity-“

“I’m sure we can reschedule,” Mike cut in, waving off her concerns with a light-hearted chuckle; the chairman didn’t look at all happy at this but didn’t say anything more. From the way he kept checking his watch, Molly could tell he didn’t want to be there anymore than Mike did, “I hope it’s not too serious. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Molly didn’t stick around for an earful from the chairman and instead set off for a cab, shrugging on her jacket as she walked. She managed to hail a cab on her second attempt and gave the directions for Baker Street; she tapped her fingers against the window frame impatiently, repeatedly checking her phone for new messages, causing several concerned looks from the driver. By the time they’d pulled up outside 221 Baker Street, Molly had driven herself almost mad with thoughts of what could be going on inside. She handed over the money and hurtled out of the cab without waiting for her change; she found the door open and her heart leapt to her mouth as she stepped through. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so she hurried upstairs, consequences be damned, and threw open the door.

He wasn’t injured.

Or dying.

Or high off his tits.

Oh, no. The great consulting detective and certified git, Sherlock Holmes, was sitting in front of his TV dramatically wielding a toy steering wheel (from the Wii console, she recognised) and throwing his body left and right every now and then; it looked as though he hadn’t moved for hours, maybe even days. Cups of coffee littered the coffee table and plates of half-eaten sandwiches covered the floor. He was wearing his traditional -day off- clothes: dressing gown, old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, instead swearing frantically when a blue shell struck his vehicle.

Of all the possibilities and hellish scenarios Molly considered on the way over, finding the Sherlock Holmes engrossed in an energetic game of Mario Kart was not one of them. Suddenly, Molly felt furious.

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?”

“Molly,” he said without looking at her, too busy focusing on his game, “glad you made it. There’s a spare controller-“

With her hands on her hips, Molly deliberately stepped in his way, “please tell me you did not summon me here to play a stupid game, Sherlock Holmes!”

“Of course not,” he replied distractedly, craning his neck to see past her, “you weren’t busy, were you?”

Molly hesitated, “no, of course not.”

She could tell he was looking over her appearance out of the corner of her eye, lingering on her pencil skirt and loose-fitting top. She felt a smug satisfaction when she heard him swear under his breath as his racer struck the wall as a result of his staring. Moments later, the race ended with the detective placing third much to his annoyance. Peering at the screen, Molly could see why and she couldn’t help but smile; Rosie’s initials dominated the leader board until the very bottom where WSH was visible.

“Something funny, Molly?”

“No,” she said, hiding her smirk behind her hand; it never took very long for him to somehow make her forget she was pissed at him. Didn’t help that she was still stupidly in love with him, really. Still, his eagerness to best his six-year-old niece was rather amusing. She cleared her throat in an attempt to stop her laughter, “just…something I heard at work, that’s all.”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her, “you think you’re better than me.”

“Well, come on, it’s not hard. If a six-year-old can do it…” she said, a hint of a challenge in her tone; their eyes met and lingered. After what felt like hours, Sherlock nodded.

“Fancy a game?”

“No, I…just came to check on you,” Molly shook her head quickly, reality catching up to her. She was mad at him, wasn’t she? She set about gathering the coffee cups and plates, “I mean, I thought you were dying you sod!”

“It was the most effective way of getting you here,” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly, shrugging casually as he set up a new two-player game, “just one game. Mary and Rosie are coming to collect it later,” he glanced at her, watching her place the dirty items in the sink, “unless that was all talk.”

“Oh, no. I’ll happily kick your arse any day of the week,” Molly declared, returning to his side and whipping off her jacket. She sat herself beside him and took up the spare controller, nudging him playfully, “I have to warn you, though. I’m the reigning champion in my family. My niece got me into it, too.”

He smiled, “we’ll see about that, Molly.”

An hour and six games later, Sherlock rendered completely speechless by the six times over champion Molly Hooper. To her credit, she’d kept her gloating to a minimum, although she’d made a show of adding her name to the leader board, just above his pitiful effort, the letters MEH mocking him. He blamed her for his lack of concentration, her arm constantly brushing his, her hand landing on his knee whenever either of them used a power-up, and generally being around her. Sherlock ruffled his hair, beyond annoyed at the ridiculous game, figuratively and literally. Molly returned from the kitchen with two coffees, placing one in front of him on the coffee table.

“Feeling better?”

“I still think you cheated!” He murmured, sipping his coffee. Molly rolled her eyes.

“How did I cheat?”

“I never got that star thing once.”

“I’m not having this argument again,” Molly protested, remembering the time she’d received a string of invincible stars, on Rainbow Road no less, whilst he’d been reduced to repeatedly tumbling over the side, cursing as he did. That had been quite amusing. Molly replaced her cup on the table, “this is why no one wants to play games with you.”

He said nothing, preferring to hug his knees as he sulked. After only a few minutes, Molly couldn’t take it anymore and shoved the steering wheel at him, “come on. One more game.”

“No.” Dear Lord, he was actually pouting. Molly gritted her teeth.

“Choose your bloody character.”

Sighing, he settled for Toad, as usual – ‘…small stature is ideal, makes him light and agile, more aerodynamic, statistically speaking…’ – whilst she picked Yoshi simply because he was her favourite. Halfway through the race, a race Molly was determined to lose, she peered out of the corner of her eye at Sherlock; he was really cute when he was concentrating, his tongue peeking out from between his lips and his hands running through his hair in frustration.

“I was going for a meeting…for a chance to leave for six months.”

He shook his head, “nope, it’s not going to work. I’m in the zone.”

“I’m not trying to put you off,” Molly giggled, her race abandoned as she wrung her hands, “I was offered a place in a teaching hospital over in Scotland. They said it could be anything between six months and a year.”

It took a while for Molly to notice his character had also stopped moving, “when do you leave?”

“I don’t. I got your texts before I went in.”

“I’ll fix it…whatever it takes, I’ll do something.”

Molly turned to stare at him in shock, “you’d…do that for me?”

“Of course, it was my fault it was ruined in the first place. As long as you promise to come back, I’ll-“

She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, silencing any further thought from his sweet lips. Sherlock cupped the back of neck tenderly, holding her in their embrace as Molly’s hands landed on his chest. They only broke away when an excited scream ripped through 221B.

“Mummy! They’re kissing! I told you, I told you!”

Sherlock and Molly exchanged shy smiles as Rosie clamoured between them, eager to get her own hugs in. Meanwhile, Mary stood in the doorway frantically texting her husband; hopefully, she’d be planning a wedding within the next year.

5

“You don’t have to hide who you really are.”

Runaways (2017-)

anonymous asked:

Dunno if you read this before but I was wondering have you ever write a fic where Harry is totally being a guy in trying to impress Ginny?

A/N: little shorty!  I hope it’s fulfilling <3  Side note, I kinda want to do more Jily lived + Hinny fics, so if anyone has ideas/prompts send them please?  Anyway, enjoy this canon verse Hinny snog fest.

Also available on FF and Ao3!


Strut

The trainee auror program at the Ministry starts with about a month of mind-numbing lectures and reading assignments on the basics of magical law enforcement, which means the only things Harry got to show off to Ginny before she left on September 1st were paper cuts and eye strain.  Which, that’s not why he chose to become an auror, but the fringe benefit of impressing Ginny was a pleasant idea that was sadly unfulfilled.

So by the time Ginny’s back for Christmas break and Harry’s finally completed his physical training circuit, it’s been long enough that he doesn’t really think about the changes to his body much anymore, despite the definitive increase in muscle tone and overall broadness.  Until Teddy spits up on Harry’s t-shirt and Molly sticks out her hand expectantly for the dirtied clothing.  After passing Teddy off to Ginny, Harry whips the shirt off – somehow miraculously keeping any baby fluids off his person – and hands it to Molly, all of this in such quick succession he almost misses Ginny’s gob smacked expression.

When Ginny’s eyes drag away from his newly muscled chest and connect with his, a blush rises on her freckled cheeks and Harry can’t help but preen a bit at the thought that Ginny finds his body attractive.

In fact, he so much can’t help it that he finds himself looking for ways to subtly flex when Ginny’s around.  Preferably shirtless.  Which is actually not particularly difficult since Teddy’s lately become a fan of throwing rather than eating his various vegetable mashes and flexing is literally a matter of thinking about it.  And eventually Ginny seems less embarrassed and more in favor of taking full advantage of the free show, while Molly just rolls her eyes and tosses Harry’s shirts in the wash.

The only real difficulty then, is toward the end of Christmas hols when Harry invites Ginny to his flat and Teddy is out of the picture.  Because up until this point, Ginny has ogled and Harry has strutted, but no one has gotten any immediate gratification from the ogling and strutting – although they did have a rather spectacular snog once Molly and Arthur went to bed after Sunday dinner at the beginning of the week – so Harry’s determined to find a reason to be shirtless when Ginny arrives.  And hopefully stay that way.

In the end, he decides to just be so harried – no pun intended – that he hasn’t gotten a chance to put one on in the first place, which is actually very near the truth, considering Harry’s barely got his jeans zipped before the floo flares and Ginny calls through the flat, “Honey, I’m home!”

Keep reading

Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day One First Meeting

Exactly Her Type

Hooper looked up when the doors opened and smiled as her favorite detective inspector, Gregory Lestrade, entered the morgue. 

“Hello, Molly.”

“Good morning, Greg. Here about the Lancaster case?”

He nodded. “Brought in a consultant for this one–I hope that’s okay?”

Molly shrugged as she moved towards the coolers. “Mrs. Lancaster isn’t going to know the difference.”

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‘All The Things You Said’ Chapter 18 is up! Woo!

prompted by @writingwife-83 :) *waves hello* I hope you like it!

#15 things you said with too many miles between us (from this list)

let me know what y’all think! *hands everyone virtual cookies*


“Do you know when you’re going to be back?” Molly asked as Sherlock embraced her.

“Two weeks at least; could be longer,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. She pulled back slightly to look up at him. Taking his face in her hands, she rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Be safe,” she whispered.

“Promise,” Sherlock assured her before heading out the door. He was going on a case that Mycroft had assigned him. John stayed back as he refused to be away from Rosie for that long period of time. Of course Molly was worried about him; she always did when he was sent away for top priority cases such as this.


Molly lay in bed, completely exhausted, unable to sleep. She hated feeling like this but the simple truth was that she had just grown used to falling asleep with his arms around her. Her phone pinged, lighting up the nightstand. She reached for her phone to check her messages.

I know you’re awake. Can’t sleep? SH

Who are you, Santa Clause? Lol and yes I can’t seem to rest. MH

Yes, very funny, Molly. Give me a moment. SH

It was then her phone began ringing, his name displayed on the screen.

“Hey you,” she answered.

“Hello,” he replied. Molly could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“All settled for the next two weeks?” she asked him.

“Mm, for the most part. You’re lying on my side of the bed,” he stated. He was right, of course. It helped to be surrounded by his scent as it still lingered in his pillowcases.

“Good job. What else can you deduce, Mr. Holmes?” Molly smiled.

“You’re wearing one of my shirts as a nightdress,” he replied cheekily. “I do love seeing you in them.”

“Right again. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight,” Molly sighed.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep,” Sherlock offered.

“I’d like that,” she told him. They had talked about any and everything until Sherlock heard her sleeping breaths through the speaker.

“I love you,” he whispered before ending the call.

Keep reading

Sherlolly Halloweek: Day Two
  • : : AND THEN THERE WERE NONE PART ONE
  • *a haunted house*
  • Molly: *looking around nervously
  • Sherlock: *examining paintings; smirking* Fascinating.
  • Molly: *moves closer* What?
  • Sherlock: *gestures* A panel behind the eyes. I thought they only did that in movies.
  • Molly: *hurriedly* Yeah, does it mean anything?
  • Sherlock: *shrugs* Perhaps.
  • Molly: *exasperated* Why did I agree to this?
  • Sherlock: *feels along the frame* Because you love a challenge.
  • Molly: *folds her arms* An And Then There Were None themed dinner? Against our friends? I like a challenge not Mission Impossible.
  • Sherlock: *amused* What makes you say that?
  • Molly: *blushes* Well, you know...I'm sorry you got landed with me *smiles nervously*
  • Sherlock: *smiles at her* You're excellent company, Molly *goes back to checking out the wall* and we're going to win.
  • Molly: Oh?
  • Sherlock: *nods* Our host stupidly paired John and Mary together. First night away from the baby? They're not going to be interested in a fake murder mystery.
  • Molly: *chuckles* I suppose not.
  • Sherlock: *still looking* Graham and Mycroft started in the kitchen. No chance of them winning. Irene and Anthea are our biggest competition. Ah-ha! *pushes the painting upwards*
  • -a trapdoor opens beneath their feet and they fall into a dark cell-
  • Sherlock: *rubbing his head* Are you okay?
  • Molly: *groans* Yeah. It's okay I landed on something soft.
  • Sherlock: *pained* Yes. Would you mind-
  • Molly: *hastily stands up* Oh, God, sorry *looks up at the trapdoor; sighs* Nice one, genius.
  • Sherlock: *mutters* I didn't see you do any better.

Sherlock acts like he looks fabulous 24/7 but we all know he hogs the bed and snores and Molly nicks his half of the quilt and presses her cold feet against his legs and they spend more of their time fighting than actually sleeping and when they wake up they both look absolutely horrific

youtube

BRO WTF IS THIS?! I am actually mad people pay her to teach combos and this what she has to offer. Molly stick to competition routines because this makes no sense at all. All they did was walk around and body roll.