#like he’ll be talking for an hour and then the choir misses practice

[crying-pan420]

I think before Mischa came out as bi cuz I’m counting that as just canon now he used to tell the choir about men he just found attractive like “hello today I will tell you all about my top 10 most attractive men of the week” then end it with “but I am completely straight and Talia agrees with me on this”

[you-can-stay-mp3]

✎ stray kids as your classmates headcannons

masterlist | navi

the chaos. the idiocy. the lack of sleep

these hcs are also ?? so specific to my school ?? my friend and i wrote them so long ago and i figured they were pretty solid 💪💪

˗ˏˋ bang chan ˎˊ˗

↠ studies english, maths, physics and history

↠ does four a levels and has left the mortal realm

↠ for some reason you can find him in every subject department ????

↠ he only gets away with it because every teacher LOVES him

↠ he gets to keep his break in the staff fridge

↠ at lunch, he brings you out to eat

↠ always has snacks in his blazer for when jisung gets fidgety during maths

↠ chan used to be allowed in the recording rooms in music until he started bringing hyunjin

↠ he lost recording room privileges and was moved to one of the mac rooms instead

↠ i say ‘bringing’ but it’s more like hyunjin ‘followed and would not leave’

↠ takes technology classes after school for fun - he’s really good and gets a kick out of his work being used as a good example

↠ gets to keep his break in the staff fridge

↠ he’s either really great to sit beside or really annoying

↠ on one hand he’s hardworking and smart and will help you with answers and let you copy off of him on tests

↠ on the other hand when he’s in a super playful mood he will not stop poking you in the ribs for no reason

↠ his school bag is worryingly heavy

˗ˏˋ minho ˎˊ˗

↠ does triple award science and digital technology

↠ likes science :)

↠ also does four a levels but is glowing

↠ every teacher loves him??

↠ like you get away with so much shit because they see minho with you and go ‘ah this is all a misunderstanding minho wouldn’t set the bin on fire :)’

↠ minho just shows up to orchestra rehearsals sometimes like baby you don’t belong here

↠ he only turns up because he has a few friends who do it but every year for their concerts he gets roped into playing the bodhran

↠ it started in third year by mistake and every year he announces he hates doing it and just won’t this year but he always comes crawling back

↠ he always gets something to share at lunch and ends up throwing bits of it at you

↠ complains the whole time and you’d just be like ??? i didn’t ask you to get me anything???

↠ he’d tell you to shut up and eat it.

↠ chooses his snacks with you in mind

↠ always has plasters and painkillers on hand

↠ drives to school

↠ won’t give you a lift

↠ tells you to get the bus like a common wench

↠ they all come up with a random catchphrase every other week and minho is losing his mind

↠ ‘if chan says that boils my piss ONE MORE TIME-‘

˗ˏˋ changbin ˎˊ˗

↠ does physical ed, art, english and technology

↠ goes to lunch with felix but will always bring you back a snack

↠ always has a hoodie in his bag and an earphone ready for you when you’ve had a bad day

↠ has an extra tie in his bag because all of his friends are dumbasses and he KNOWS they’ll forget it at least once a week

↠ also drives to school

↠ he brings jeongin

↠ if he sees you walking to school on his way he’ll let you get in

↠ everyone steals his t-shirts purely because of the big arms and they’re comfy

↠ no more fitted shirts the world has surpassed the need for fitted shirts

↠ will always ask to copy your homework but when you ask to copy his he says no

˗ˏˋ hyunjin ˎˊ˗

↠ does history, religion and single chemistry

↠ he’s,,,, not so good at chemistry

↠ considered taking drama but realised he’d have to actually participate in productions and shows

↠ he does drama club after school instead

↠ but would never be caught dead in the department during school hours

↠ also takes technology classes after school

↠ only because his mum makes him

↠ sleeps on the bus home and often misses his spot

↠ sleeps over with whoever’s stop he wakes up closest to

↠ everyone in the group has a collection of his clothes in their houses for when he decides to do this

↠ for lunch, he always leaves his chocolate milk aside for you

↠ Does Not Know His Timetable and relies on you to tell him what class he’s in next

↠ if you’re working in the library together, he’ll try his best to be super quiet and will help you tie your hair back because he knows you can’t do it properly yourself

˗ˏˋ jisung ˎˊ˗

↠ does chemistry, maths and english

↠ no one knows why he does english but they don’t question it

↠ he sits in the back corner and throws paper balls at the back of your head and kicks your seat

↠ chan tried to stop him, he really did

↠ his subject choices are fucking atrocious

↠ he took technology but dropped it after two weeks

↠ he’s oddly good at chemistry???

↠ when you ask him a question he shrugs and says he guessed it

↠ you know he’s full of it and studies at every chance he gets

↠ he took german a few years ago and won’t shut up about it

↠ would buy lunch for himself

↠ when you ask for some he says no.

↠ don’t be fooled he pretends to be annoyed but he always planned to give you some anyway

↠ always accuses everyone of stealing his clothes when in fact it’s him who has the most of other people’s clothes

↠ chan has to call him every morning to wake him up so he won’t miss the bus

↠ makes you buy him bottles of water at all hours of the day

↠ will not stop whining if you don’t

˗ˏˋ felix ˎˊ˗

↠ does art, french and home ec

↠ ngl he goes to lunch with changbin

↠ will scrounge the snack changbin brought back for you

↠ makes up for it every friday when there was a home ec practical and he got to bake

↠ the type to push you into an open classroom door while you’re walking past

↠ HUGS ALL THE TIME

↠ like there’s always some sort of physical affection; linking pinkies, arm over your shoulder, just general poking and prodding

↠ minho has to separate you

↠ also throws paper balls at you in class but you can’t be mad because he just wants to play hangman

↠ the most active in the groupchat

↠ please turn off your notifications when you go to sleep

↠ will actually help you with your homework, but also makes sure you’re not taking everything too seriously and reminds you to enjoy yourself

˗ˏˋ seungmin ˎˊ˗

↠ does english and triple award science

↠ curses the day he chose science

↠ he hasn’t done the english homework

↠ he will call you at 4:27am to get it

↠ played cello in orchestra for a few years

↠ least active in the groupchat

↠ exclusively steals your food at lunch

↠ he used to bring his own but when he realised you were willing to share / he could just take some of your food, he just stopped

↠ will still buy a cookie and when you ask for one always says no

↠ he brings one back anyway

↠ makes you come study at the library with him because he knows you won’t do it if you’re left to your own devices

˗ˏˋ jeongin ˎˊ˗

↠ takes english, sociology and french

↠ jeongin is the only one who does choir

↠ but somehow ?? jisung is always at their concerts ???

↠ makes you bring him back lunch and then ends up stealing half of yours

↠ he shares his drinks with you if that’s any condolences

↠ he does not come to class

↠ ever

↠ always gets a ride to and from school from changbin

↠ he always calls you at the same time every night just to talk because he didn’t see you much that day :(

↠ uses his baby status to his advantage

↠ decides he’s coming to your house after school

↠ you don’t get a choice in the matter

[iisuya-simps]

Can I get Headcannons for Ichiro, Rosho and Jyuto with an S/O who’s an idol

A/N: ooooooh yes let's go :D

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Ichiro Yamada

Ichiro was at the convenience store to grab some snacks

when you both reached for the last bag of candy

"Sorry, I-"

his eyes lit up when they met yours

he knew exactly who you were

no, I'm totally not ripping this off from mlqc shut up

"Y-you're-" you cover his mouth with your hand

"Shh, don't blow my cover, otherwise we're gonna draw a crowd."

"Y-you can have the candy if you want! I'll get something else!"

"Why don't we just share it? Hehe."

*Ichiro blushes and SWOONS

you bought the candy and took a walk down a secluded road and bonded a bit

Ichiro loves how down to earth you are, this is like a dream come true

and when the candy is gone you both continue your conversation for an hour or so until your agent calls

"whoops, I have to get going. Here's my info if you want to reach out." You give him a wink as you round the corner to the black van

dID I juSt gO oN a dAtE wITh mY fAVoriTe IdOl??!

*head explodes*

after staring at the number you gave him for a few days he works up enough nerve to message you

"Hey uh, this is Ichiro Yamada, we met at the convenience store the other day"

"Oh hi, listen I'm in the area, do you want to meet up?" :)

You literally show up at his front door

"Y/N!!?" "Nice place you got here. My agent doesn't even know I left, hehe." "I'll be right back!!"

you follow Ichiro into his room to see him rushing to take all of his posters of you off his walls. aw, how sweet~

once caught he'll open up and show you his collection

after a few more surprise visits like this, you become close friends

then he's your secret boyfriend

Ichiro will help you practice choreo for shows

he might even teach you how to rap for fun

Jiro is probably very jealous when Ichiro introduces you to the bros

he can't help but gush about how amazing and talented you are

even though his brothers have heard this rant 12million times before he even knew you

he loves to watch you play dress up when picking out outfits for shows and events

he loves going to your photo/video shoots

seeing you get dressed up in all kinds of crazy clothes is exciting for the both of you

"Hey, hands off! I need this outfit wrinkle-free for the shoot!"

"I can always iron it after babe" ;p

when you show Ichiro a song that you wrote for him dumbfounded and a little teary-eyed

"I can hear all of the emotion you put into this... thank you" *big hug and kiss

when the tabloids start spewing fake facts about you Ichiro is going to be mad but try and keep his cool

"Ignore them y/n, just know that I think you're amazing"

but being an idol is very exhausting

after a long day, you may sneak away to the Yamada household to collapse on the bed in each other's arms and pass out

at the end of the day, Ichiro can't believe that he's with someone that loves and appreciates him as much as he does you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosho Tsutsujimori

It was your dream to become an idol for years

you've been dating Rosho since highschool

he knew you would make it big because you were the best student in theatre, dance and choir

you even got first place in the school talent show for your singing and dancing routine

Rosho was finishing his bachelor's degree when you got signed to a label and went on to become of the biggest idols around

not only is Rosho an amazing boyfriend and support

he may even help manage some financial matters that your agent doesn't handle

Rosho is first to hear your songs when you come up with them

you always confide in him for new song ideas

mostly because you cant stop humming around him

"I can't help it Rosho, you're my muse"

he blushes brightly not knowing how to accept the compliment

one of his students asked why he had a charm of you on his desk

he said he was a really big fan

"What? You Mr. Tsutsujimori? *then proceeded to quiz him the rest of the class

"Please settle down now." "But what about-" *sigh*

If the press is spreading lies about you Rosho will try and talk you down

"Calm down, it's not worth it y/n, let them think whatever nonsense. I know the real you and that's all that matters."

he will help you prep for concerts making sure you eat properly, get enough water and do stretches and voice exercises

the farthest he got to see you live was backstage

which was still a pretty big feat for him considering

he doesn't know how you deal with being surrounded by crowds all the time plus perform in front of them...

you inspire him to work on his stage fright and public speaking

even if its just little things

he is in awe of you and loves the fact that you worked so hard to get to the place you were today

he finds your idol persona just an extension of yourself

he knew that you weren't just a cute bubbly idol

but an intelligent cute bubbly idol :p

Rosho is so touched when you sit him down and show a song you wrote for him

"Is this really for me? y/n... it's amazing. Thank you so much"

he prefers to stay at home for dates as opposed to going out and possibly having someone recognize you

even though your lives are completely different you still

you'll have deep chats about life and your future

you love and support each other the best you can and have a beautiful relationship

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jyuto Iruma

You first meet Jyuto he pulls you over on the highway for speeding

"License and registration miss."

He noticed you in full hair and makeup then raises a brow

"Please sir, I'm going to be late for my concert. I'll pay any ticket you give me but I just need to get to the stadium"

"I suppose I can let you off with a warning, if you give me a front-row seat"

"Follow me officer" *wink

He tails behind you to the stadium and the guards wave you both through

"I'm not a bodyguard y'know."

"I know, but you can be my police escort!"

your agent yells at you for being late and you scurry around backstage when you trip over a loose cord!

luckily he catches you in his arms

"Ooh, sorry sir. I've always been a bit of a clutz..."

he tries his best to bite back a flirty come back to keep it professional

but says it anyway

"Fallen for the officer already have you?"

you were drawn to his dry wit and charming personality

Halfway through the concert, you come backstage to see him getting ready to leave

"Hey I'm still on duty so I can't stay, but you're really talented and I enjoyed the show so far."

he hands you his contact card

"I suppose we could have a coffee sometime, after all, if you weren't there to catch me I would've sprained my ankle and the show would've been cancelled."

You're both pretty busy but find some time during the day to sneak away for a coffee date

one turns into two, then five

sooner than you know it the officer has won you over and you fall head over heels for each other *literally*

when you show Jyuto a song that you wrote for him he's going to be amazed

"Wow, I'm so thrilled that you feel this way, now come here so I can show you my thanks

*tackles OwO

If gossip comes out about you Jyuto will scout out the lowlife who write the article and bribe them to stop

"It's ok y/n, they'll know the truth soon enough."

"How do you dance in those heels all the time?"

"I wonder what else you can do with them..."

"Jyuto!!!"

Jyuto likes to listen to your music on the way home from work

You may not see each other as much as you want to

but when he sees you on the tv or the stage he knows how lucky he is to have you and he'll do anything to help support you and your dream

and the nights you do spend together are filled with longing and passion

it's a great way of relieving the stress of a hard day's work

⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆

Thank you for reading!

[supersickies]

Summary: "MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her Ph.D. she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it.

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.”

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!”

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it."

OR

Peter is basically on his death bed, but MJ has a plan.

A/N: Yay! @sicktember day two! I can't lie this is really the only other sicktember fic that I have complete. Everything else is simply a WIP or merely a figment of my imagination just hoping to be made into an actual work. But who knows! Maybe I'll muster up some motivation between now and when I go see Shang-Chi in a few hours! Either way here's my first (of many) PeterMj fics for Sicktember 2021! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3! 

EDIT: LMAO I FORGOT TO POST IT BELOW THE CUT BUT ITS HERE NOW SORRY !!

MJ wasn’t really sure what she was trying to prove when she decided to take a microbiology course. Yes, she graduated from a STEM school (as valedictorian with honors, thank you very much) but college science courses like this were a whole other ballpark. Especially as a journalism major. But hey, she needed the STEM credit. That and her adorable (insufferable) boyfriend practically begged her to take the class with him. 

And who was she to say no to Peter?

So that’s how she found herself on the floor of his dorm, notecards of test questions scattered about, trying with all her might to study for their first midterm. But something was keeping her from concentrating. 

That something being her boyfriend, hacking up a lung.

Again, MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her PHD she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it. 

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.” 

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!” 

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it. 

She had seen Peter when he was ill, long before the spider bite. In fact she had seen him sick a bunch of times, because pre-bite Peter was quite the sickly kid. She noted that this current “mystery cough” he had now was eerily similar to the one he had during their 6th grade holiday choir concert, and he sounded a lot like he did in 8th grade when he could barley talk for their group presentation on The Outsiders.

Not that she took note of all the times he was sick. She wasn’t obsessed, just observant. 

(She was a little obsessed).

But it doesn’t take an overly observant girlfriend to know that Peter should be in bed and resting right now. Especially when he could barley manage to catch a breath. 

MJ tenses as she hears the deep chesty coughs come from where Peter sits studying at his desk. She holds her tongue, not wanting to poke the bear more than she already had. Peter would never and has never in his life gotten angry at Michelle, but the more she had pushed him to admit that he wasn’t feeling well, the more annoyed he was becoming. So she stayed quiet. 

But Peter didn’t. 

It seemed as time went on, Peter’s coughs became harsher, deeper, wetter even. MJ couldn’t help but grimace at the wheeze that was also now very evident in his breathing. 

She glances up at him, his eyes glazed over with fever and his nose burred in micro-bio notes, seemingly unaware of the world around him and the virus raging in his lungs. MJ stifles a sigh, feeling fed up with her decision to keep quiet. She sets aside her flashcards and lays her head in her arms as she weighs her options. 

She could continue to push and try to beg Peter to admit that he was unwell. But Michelle knew that would only lead to more defiance, so that was out of the question. 

She could also simply force him to rest. She knew she had the capacity to get him into bed with just a look, but the idea of doing so made her feel uncomfortable. This was her boyfriend, not some animal she could just boss around.

Her feet kick in the air behind her as she continues to wrack her brain. She listens despairingly to Peter’s coughs as she thinks, and if she’s being honest, just the sound of his hacking was making her throat feel kinda scratchy too. 

Wait. That could be something. 

What if it wasn’t just Peter who wasn’t feeling their best. 

MJ was known to be prone to migraines, but hadn’t had one in a while thanks to a medication she had started. But what if, hypothetically, maybe she’d accidentally missed a dose?

MJ takes another glance at Peter, who was still zoned in on his own study guide, before making the first move in her grand plan. 

She groans. 

It’s too loud or overly painful sounding, but hopefully enough to warrant some alarm from her boyfriend. 

And it has the desired effect, as out of the corner of her eye she sees Peter stop his studying and glance at her. Now, with his attention, she takes it up a notch. She groans slightly again, this time adding a wince and an eye rub.

She hears Peter make a soft concerned noise. Bingo. 

He’s sill looking at her, so she does her best to look just as rundown and sick as she can. It works. 

“Em? You okay, babe?” Peter’s voice is gravely and nearly gone, but she can hear the worry in his tone. She’s got him right where she wants him. 

She turns her head to answer him, her eyes squinting to make it seem as though the lights were making the headache worse.

“Hm? Oh, no yeah everything’s fine, Pete.” MJ’s voice is usually deeper and raspier than most, but she really cakes it on for this. Again, desired effect achieved. 

“You really don’t sound great, Em. You sure?” His sentence is punctuated with a rough coughing fit, ironically enough. But even as the fit dies down his attention stays on MJ, who is now rubbing her temples like her life depended on it, both eyes squeezed together tightly. 

When he sees her miserable demeanor he quickly (yet shakily) abandons his own work to sit on the floor beside her. 

“Seriously, MJ.” 

She looks up at him with pitiful eyes, time to really sell it Michelle. She sighs, “M-My head just kinda hurts…It’s nothing.” She caps her Oscar worthy performance with another wince before burying her head back in her folded arms. 

She feels his way too warm hand on her back as he rubs it in an attempt to comfort her. 

He’s still buying it.

Maybe she should get a minor in theater performance?

“You sure? This doesn’t look like nothing.” He questions hoarsely. Now that he’s closer to her she can almost hear the crackling in his chest when he breathes. She had to get him to rest now or else this shit was going to get way worse. 

“I-I think I may have forgotten my pill this morning. I can’t remember. I think I was just so anxious about the exam that- I don’t know…e-everything’s so fuzzy, Peter.” She says quietly, letting out a shaky breath just like she would if her head were actually pounding. 

“Oh, Emmy.” He coos. “Come on, you need to lay down.” 

“But the midterm-“

“Hey, the midterm can wait. You’ve been working hard, okay? Take some time to take care of yourself.” 

Practice what you preach, Parker. 

“Will you lay with me?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically small as she looks up at him, eyes still scrunched in “pain” but full of emotion. She’s laying it on thick. The things she does for this boy. 

“‘Course I will, Em.” 

And jackpot. He bought it. What a sucker. At least he’s pretty! 

MJ does a victory dance in her head as she lets him help her stand and climb onto his unmade twin bed. She waits for him to climb in and join her, but frowns when he turns and begins to to walk away. She quickly grabs his wrist and once again dons her best pitiful sick person face. 

“Stay. Please.” She “begs”, which works again (of course). Peter’s face breaks into a sad smile. 

“Just turning off the lights, Emmy. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He leans over and kisses her on the forehand, and she does her best not to think of all the germs he may have actually just passed onto her. She had him in the palm of her hand, she couldn’t break the illusion now.

For the full effect, she lets out a few pained groans here and there as he turns off the ceiling and desk lights in his room, leaving them under the glow of the spidey string lights she’d bought him as a dorm-warming gift. 

He’s rather sluggish as he makes his way back and up onto his bed. MJ figures he’ll be out as soon as his feverish head hits the pillow. And she’s basically right, as he lets out a huge yawn as soon as he curls up next to her. 

“Get some rest, Em.” He murmurs, already taking his own advice. “‘M right here if you need me.” He snuggles closer to her with a sigh, his arm wrapping around her torso and face pressing into the side of her shoulder. Only moments later soft snores are coming from his mouth. 

“You too, dork.”  She responds. 

Mission accomplished, MJ thinks triumphantly. 

[ficforce]

Foien Li Relationship Alphabet

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with Y/N.)

Foien Li is a keen gardener, he likes to take care of the plants inside and outside of Company 1. He has his own little patch of garden on Company grounds and one of his favourite things is to go shopping with Y/N at garden centres.

They’re happy to hold hands through the greenhouses, looking at all the different kinds of flowers and once they’ve chosen He treats her to lunch in the cafe.

B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship)

It was very difficult at the start.

Y/N hadn’t expected to fall in love with a man who had already given his heart, body and soul to God. He was very kind but firm in rejecting her at first. He had dried her eyes and apologised that he couldn’t be with her.

She tried to be a good friend to him, she tried to shove down her feelings but eventually, it was too much and she broke down.

Foien had felt his heartbreak at seeing her so distraught and all because of him, he had sought guidance from the church and during his confession, the Priest on the other side of the screen had told him that his heart was big enough for God and Y/N. There was no sin in falling in love.

For a long-time Y/N thought that Foien was going out with her because he felt guilty, it took a long while for her to believe that he had loved her too and had been trying to hold back.

They’re very much in love.

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Once they were comfortable as a couple, Foien and Y/N talked about everything and anything. Y/N is a follower of Sol and can understand some of Foien’s hang-ups. As a priest, Foien is a good listener and gives advice freely.

They’re very honest with one another and rarely keep secrets.

D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk)

He very rarely drinks, it’s usually one or two with food.

Y/N doesn’t have a high tolerance for alcohol and can’t stop giggling when she’s drunk, everything is funny and Foien usually ends up walking her home and helping her get ready for bed before leaving.

She once made him come all the way back to her home to kiss her forehead goodnight - Foien hasn’t revealed that to her… yet.

E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? Y/N gets hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..)

When Y/N had met Foien at the hospital after losing his arm, she had been too shocked to speak. She hadn’t known what to do or say and simply wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close as if to protect him from the world. Afterwards, she was too attentive and he had to sit her down to talk.

Foien had been devastated when he had learned that Y/N had had an accident at work - he had been away for three days and he felt guilty for not being there. She had broken her leg in a fall and though he was relieved, Foien made sure to stay by her side, even taking time away from the Church.

F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with)

They’re abstaining from Sex until maybe one day they decide to get married.

They have a Sin Box; this is where they put scraps of paper with their sexual fantasies on. If they ever get married they’ll open the box and try every one.

G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?)

Y/N is an excellent calligrapher and often gifts Foien with pages of his favourite prayers on.

He has framed a few of them for his room but most of them he keeps in a book.

Foien knows how much Y/N likes pens and inks, he’s brought her some very high-quality stationery.

H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle)

They hold hands quite often, the only time they don’t is when Foien needs to use his hand.

Y/N likes to cuddle into his side when they’re walking along and it’s chilly, when they’re alone she likes to snuggle up to him on the sofa during a movie.

I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?)

Foien gets irritated when Y/N tries to do too much for him, he’s a little sensitive about what he can’t do anymore since he lost his arm. She usually realises that he’s getting upset when he places his hand on her head and tells her point-blank that he can do it.

Y/N doesn’t have the same amount of patience as Foien, she can get irritated by people who walk too slow or people who simply don’t have any manners. She’ll huff and puff and mutter under her breath.

Foien finds it cute.

J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?)

They don’t need anything, they have each other and their faith, they both have a home too.

Most likely they’d give it all away to charities.

K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?)

His faith.

As strong as Foien’s faith makes him - it’s also his weakness. Could he go against his beliefs even if it meant protecting Y/N?

Y/N is actually terrified of fires since a traumatic incident in her youth.

As much as she loves Foien, she does get anxious when he uses his ignition abilities.

L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?)

Y/N is easily amused, she’ll laugh at nearly anything - especially if she’s had alcohol.

Foien finds her amusement funny and he’s often holding back laughter when Rekka and Karim get into it.

M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?)

Both of them are used to getting up early for Church.

Foien is usually up and ready to go, he doesn’t like to rush so always gets up with plenty of time.

Y/N will sleep as much as she can, often having to rush around and miss breakfast to be on time - she’s unusually cheery despite that.

N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?)

Y/N misses him terribly when she doesn’t get to see him for a few days, she’ll want to be extra close to him for a few hours before she calms down a little. She’ll fuss over him a little more than usual.

He doesn’t tend to show it but he’ll happily let her fuss over him.

O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

Foien wasn’t born in Tokyo, he travelled across the sea as a child and one day he would like to take Y/N to the little village he was born in.

For now, their favourite place is his part of the garden at Company 1, they enjoy tending it together.

P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when Y/N are in pain?)

Her pain tolerance is pretty good, she’s quite stubborn in not taking her medicine until it’s too late and she ends up crying because it hurts.

Foien will gently scold her but sits with her until she feels better. He hates when he can’t do more.

When he lost his arm, Foien was on quite a few medications. He would keep quiet even when he was in pain as he didn’t want to worry anyone.

Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship)

If I know what love is, it is because of you.

R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing Y/N after a long time of being apart)

They’ll arrange to spend a whole day together, they’ll go out for lunch, visit bookshops and gardens. Foien always leaves in the evening but it’s nice to know he’s only a phone call away.

S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?)

For Foien, prayer is his go-to for stress. He finds comfort in the beauty of the Grand Cathedral and being alone with his thoughts and faith. The thing that stresses him the most is not being able to save everyone.

Y/N takes long baths, she reads a book and gets lost in the story - eventually forgetting why she was so stressed in the first place.

Of course, talking to one another about their stresses always helps.

T- Terror (What are they afraid of?)

Y/N is terrified of fire. She will get up several times in the night to make sure that all of the electrics and cooking appliances are safe.

Foien is terrified that he’s not doing enough, he’s terrified that one day he’ll get a call that Y/N has become an Infernal. He needs to stop Human Combustion before it’s too late.

U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

Foien carries a spare hat around with him… in case.

Y/N is left-handed.

V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

Y/N has no fighting skills at all, she’s not a violent person at all. She’s the type of person to cry during an argument.

He doesn’t fight unless needed. Foien abstains from practice fights to remain peaceful.

((No one even knows what his ability is!! There’s so little on our cinnamon priest!))

W- Wow (What does Y/N do that really surprises them? What do they do that Y/N really likes?)

Foien has a wonderful singing voice, Y/N loves to listen to him when he joins choir practice.

Y/N speaks three languages, the first time Foien heard her, he got really excited!

X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates)

They’re abstaining from sex but sometimes they’re innocent kisses get really heated and the making out can get out of hand.

They both usually have to take a day to cool off.

Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?)

They’re both pretty good about doing these things.

Y/N is no good dealing with other people’s bodily fluids and will get sick at just the thought of someone throwing up near her though.

Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without Y/N)

Foien can sometimes get really into a book and he’ll stay up too late. He usually goes to bed by ten at the latest, unless he has duties and he sleeps on his back. He doesn’t move around too much.

Y/N has a terrible habit of going to bed after midnight, she sleeps on her front and hugs her pillows. She falls out of bed easily.

The one-time Foien had to stay over because of a typhoon, they agreed to share a bed but to stay on their own side. When they woke up in the morning they were holding each other.

[himbohargreeves]

hallo here are the hc's i whipped up for the teacher au!! i'm sorry this turned into an essay i'm just a dumbass who loves soft teacher au a lot!!

“not sure what the others would teach in this teacher au tho-” *wakes up in the dead of night with cold sweat* *kicks down the door* I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS!!

oh boy…get ready….cause it’s A LOT

- Submitted by @katgreeves

luther: physics teacher, cause you know…spaceboy……everyone is scared at the beginning of the year when they get him as a teacher cause he’s TALL AND HUGE AS FUUUUUCK, but then fast forward two months later and everyone is chill because turns out he’s a really easygoing and soft teacher…just really socially awkward and lowkey dumb sometimes

asshole kids in his classes use his softness to his disadvantage and pull pranks on him constantly, poor guy….the other kids tho always tell them to shove it tho because he may be soft and dumb and socially awkward but he’S OUR SOFT AND DUMB AND SOCIALLY AWKWARD TEACHER DON’T TOUCH HIM!! the first time they protected him he had to remind himself not to tear up because HE FELT SO LOVED!!!! 

he gets them snacks even if they’re not supposed in the science classrooms because “eXPeriMENts and CHEmIcALsSsSsssSS!!!” and will rant for hours about space and starts and THE MOOOOON cause when he was a kid he always wanted to be an astronaut ( :’))))))) ) and his kids get fed up one day and go “why don’t you just make an astrology club mr luther????” and he does and IT’S A REAL SUCCESS WITH THE SCHOOL BODY YAY!!!

(five when he grows up also becomes a physics teacher and pesters luther all the time like “I AM 10 TIMES THE TEACHER YOU EVER WERE-” “NO YOU AREN’T STFU” and he’s technically wrong and right because material wise??? yes he’s 100% the better teacher and he always has answers to the kids questions and teaches them extra content cause he’s always been a genius but as a physics teacher that kids really like????? no siree that title goes to luther because he was a soft teddy bear to his students and they trusted him while five is eccentric and strict the the point where his kids are scared the FUCK out of him)

diego: pe teacher, SWEARS SO MUCH IN FRONT OF THE KIDS IN CLASS OMG HOW IS HE NOT FIRED YET?? is tough on the kids sometimes so push harder but IS ALSO SOFT AND REALLY ENCOURAGING THE KIDS TO WORK AND TRY THEIR BEST BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN THEM!!! (except for the group of cocky assholes he’ll get in every class and don’t want to listen to them…he has personally removed their rights in the class)

whenever the self-defense unit comes around he’s sooooo dedicated to it and makes sure that the kids master everything to a t, cause who knows when it might come in handy??? he wants to make sure that the kids know how to protect themselves as the world is a shitty place and you never know when shit will go bad (except he does…he’s had enough bullshit and scared happen to him and has gotten involved in so many fights that he wants to make sure that the kids won’t hurt like him :“’))))))))) ) 

he’s a secret softie that will protect the kind kids that are not as good at pe and get bullied by the cocky assholes in the class becAUSE THAT’S JUST WHAT HE WOULD DO NO IM NOT SELF PROJECTING OF WHAT I WANTED OUT OF MY PE TEACHERS SHUT U-

also eudora is a pe teacher and the two of them are very competitive to be the best pe teacher and this rivalry turns into playful flirting and big ass crushes that they’re way too stubborn to admit, the entire school still ships it anyways (the entire school also ships klaus and dave because gay rights!!!!!)

allison: either school counselor or principal i can’t decide because she can be super kind and open to talk and gives advice that helps a LOT but she’s also a hbic THAT CAN AND WILL run the place. 

anyways, whatever job she has, she also helps with the drama club and school plays, and literally every year the theatre kids BEG HER to kick out the current drama teachers and replace them because allison>>>>>>>>>>>> all of the existing drama teachers there  

ben: is either a literature or philosophy teacher. super smart and knowledgable but is also really laid back and fun to talk to. he’s got a dark and snarky sense of humor and his students always have sass battles with him. the number of INSANE inside jokes his students and him share is HUGE.

HE DEMANDS THAT HIS STUDENTS PARTAKE IN READING TIME IN THE BEGINNING OF CLASS NO MATTER WHAT THEY HAVE TO DO BECAUSE READING IN AN IMPORTANT SKILL AND HOBBY FOR DEVELOPMENT AS A READER, WRITER, LEARNER, AND OVERALL PERSON AND NO AMY DON’T ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME I’M THE TEACHER HERE AND I SAID NO ELECTRONICS SO PUT THE GODDAMN PHONE AWAY BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AN-

anyways…he is really considerate to what students need and makes them as relaxed as possible because school is HELL. students LOOOOOVE HIM. HE’S THE ONE TEACHER BESIDES DAVE THAT LITERALLY EVERYONE LIKES. (highkey inspired by my philosophy and lit teachers because they’re also really smart but sassy and cool like ben and I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT)

vanya: strings orchestra teacher for obvious reasons. she was real shy at first when she first got hired but the the strings department at that time was soooo small and crappy that she went “oh HELL no,” rolled up her sleeves, and set to revitalize it just because she cares about music so much.

she recruited more students, got more advanced music so the kids could feel a challenge and be motivated to improve, and collaborated with the choir and band departments to provide more clubs, events and opportunities outside of class for kids to do music.

she is a no business type of teacher when it comes to arrogant people that put other players down or people who don’t practice and goof around and will snap at them SO HARD because everyone needs to be at their a game for a concert and in an orchestra no single person is bigger that the collective. she’s however SOOOO SOFT with really soft playing and shy kids because she understands how it feels when you think your playing isn’t good enough, so gives them extra help, gives them solo lines or solos to play so they gain more confidence in themselves, all while constantly giving encouraging words about how much they’ve improved that always makes them feel better and more motivated to improve.

she’s an absolute anxious and cranky maniac a week before the concert but she throws parties with food, drinks, and games afterwards to celebrate with her kids. she constantly gets them to play music related games and challenges that they do as a class for team bonding to make things more entertaining in class. she makes dumb music puns a lot too! 

she also will in the class say crazy stories of her childhood and the crazy shit she and her siblings did and then somehow always relate it back to the lesson and make it some sage advice…the kids never understand how she does it

(me???? self projecting more of my teachers into this au cause they’re cool??? more likely than you think)

also one day she chops her hair real short and cute and the conversation with her students basically went like this:

students: miss vanya you cut your hair???

vanya: yes kids I’m a lesbian

students: !!!!!!!!!!!!

vanya: ;))))))))

students: MISS VANYA SAID GAY RIGHTS!!!!

vanya: HELL YE I DID!!!

bonus grace yayyyy!!!!!: is the school nurse…she’s so sweet, so soft….has precisely whatever people need when they feel sick/injured…helps them calm down in they’re freaking out…always has a couple of beds in the nurse’s office so people can lie if they feel dizzy…gives out candy/sweets/food to people so they feel better!!

diego meets her a lot because a lot of kids in his class gets injuries and he takes them to the nurse and he jUST LOVES HER SM!!! INSTANT MOM FIGURE!! THEY TALK AND JOKE AND LAUGH TOGETHER AND GRACE WILL ALWAYS GIVE HIM A PASTRY SHE MADE WHENEVER HE COMES BY AND HE JUST IS SO SOFT AROUND HER ITS GREAT (his students find his sudden change in his demeanour amusing “hey mr diego is nurse grace your MMMmoooOoOooOOOmMMMMMMmmmmmM??” “kid your a good one but say that shit to me one more time and I will beat the sh-”)

she always has a smile on her and everyone LOVES HER…..except for the administration that always want to get her fired because they are assholes and they think she’s too weird to stay. however, every time they try to fire her, a certain teacher comes by the office for what they claim is a civil discussion...and after an hour of yelling, death threats, and the door getting 10 knife marks they go “you know what grace…you can stay" 

those assholes are persistant though, and one time though not even a certain teacher could get them away from firing her so once the news breaks out that nurse grace is leaving the whole school is FURIOUS and throws a 1 week riot and the administration get so scared and tired that they just go "OK WERE SORRY JUST KIDDIN- OK OK SHE’S STAYING FOR GOOD JESUS”

grace is so grateful that she makes a whole bunch of cake for everyone and everyone with tears in their eyes just goes “this…is why we love you sm nurse mom”

~~okkkieee that’s the end of it sorry it’s a literal essay I just got very passionate about this au lmao rip!!! I’m slowly tempted to write a fic about it even though i’ve never written a fic before in my LIFE and I already have like 3 other au fic ideas in my head already smh

[glassesaremyonlyweakness]

Literally about all of my Music Meister headcanons

This is really fucking long I wrote this over the course of a few days for another thing that will probably take a few more days and I went overboard If you decide to read this; bear with me (Also send me questions about him I’ll add the answer to my next entry in this big ass clusterfuck)

- The Music Meister’s real name is Dennis Neville Prowell, but he changed it to Alastor Prowell because people made fun of him as a child for being named Dennis Neville. Plus, he always says it's so uncool for a slick guy like him’.

- He kept his last name cause Prowell is his mother’s name and the guy’s a mama’s boy, he’s soft, give him a break.

- The Meister is actually Welsh on his mother’s side. He’d learn how to speak the language, but the guy knows how to play *every* instrument. They say the brain can never be full but it sure as hell can be cramped.

- Alastor has a little sister, she’s a little baby, well not really, but she’s like nine. Her name is Jacqueline, and her big brother calls her Jackie.

- Jackie was born thanks to a sperm donor, since the father is no longer in the picture. Jokes on him, Ms. Prowell is the one with the fortune now.

- Alastor isn’t the best with kids (they’re annoying and he’s impatient), but Jacquline is his little princess. His mother has to stop him from spoiling her rotten all day with dresses and jewelry and sweets.

- High-key, he really wants to get her a pair of musical note glasses like his.

- (I might make Jacquelin her own headcanon page tbh)

- Of course, the family doesn’t know that their beloved son/brother is the corrupt conductor himself, y’know until he gets arrested.

- Strangely enough, no one of the Meister’s direct family are affected by his singing voice. By direct family, I mean his father, his mother, and Jackie. Aunts and cousins are affected, definitely, Alastor proved such on one of their many family trips back home when he was thirteen and edgy.

- He believes it has something to do with his dad, maybe, but he can’t be too sure. If only he knew the guy more than he does right now…

- Anyway.

- If musicals was a religion, Alastor would be the cool local pastor who preaches on Sundays and actually *bakes* brownies for the fundraiser instead of buying them from the store, *Linda.*

- He loves almost all of them (almost), but will not divulge which one’s he dislikes. He’s gotta stay on brand.

- The man will go fucking off though if you let him, whether or not he’s talking about one he likes or dislikes. He has a lot to say.

- Some of his all time favorites that were on Broadway are Phantom of the Opera (it’s a classic) and Wicked. If were were going to categorize it by how good the songs are, he likes the songs from the Waitress, and Something Rotten, and the recent Beetlejuice musical.

- I think it’s safe to say that he sings those songs all the time no matter where he is or what he’s doing, even the collar that Arkham Asylum gives him that makes is so he can’t sing can’t stop him from humming them at the very least.

- When he gets upset he talks a bit faster and then the gap in his teeth gives him a front lisp.

- Whenever he starts lisping, everyone will know, cause once he realizes what he’s doing he’ll cover his mouth and look super embarrassed. (Spoiler alert: he doesn’t really like his angy lisp.)

- This is getting too long isn’t it

- What else is there I know there’s more…

- Real time, I’m fucking blanking right now

- Oh yeah I wanted to talk about kid Meister too

- Alastor, from birth to eleven, was practically an angel. He always listened to his mother, he did his homework, he ate his vegetables, and he even got that bowl haircut that his mother insisted on him having for a few years because it made him ‘Look like a little gentleman’.

- Yeah his mom was really good at embarrassing him in public.

- Speaking of his mom again, she was the one to give Alastor his first singing lesson.

- He had a heavenly set of pipes and she made sure that he knew so every day.

- His father was less than eager to do so.

- In fact, he wasn’t really involved in Alastor’s life other than having a hand in conceiving him. He always had ‘better things to do’, which always struck up arguments whenever he mentioned it to his wife.

- Alastor has never explicitly *heard* his parents argue, but he would always be able to tell when they did because his mom would send him outside to play for an hour or two. By the time he’d be back, both of his parents would be avoiding each other for the rest of the day.

- Legally, his father lost full time custody of Alastor when he was around twelve.

 - It went from Mom on Sun-Wed and Dad on Thur-Sat, to Mom on Sun-Thur and Dad on Fri-Sat, until eventually, Mom obtained full custody by word of the court. Alastor doesn’t recall hearing from him ever since then.

- When it came to the bullies, Alastor was picked on for pretty much everything about his person. I mentioned his name earlier, but there was how he dressed in a sweater vest everywhere and always had a little green bowtie, his bowl cut, the gap in his teeth, his lisp (which was much more prominent until he lost his baby teeth), even his tube socks aren’t safe from them, just cause they’re a bit frilled at the tops. As explained in his very first villain song though, the main reason he got picked on was because he was a boy who sang in choir.

- At first it was rather simple bullying, verbal stuff about how much of a nerd he was, how stupid he looked, calling him a momma’s boy (as if that was a bad thing). But it quickly escalated to threats and physical violence.

- The worst was *about* to come when they were going to ruin a choir show during his solo, until the strangest thing happened.

- The bullies decided that they would let him sing a bit before enacting their plan, but as soon as Alastor saw them, he got stressed very quickly, and wished that they would just leave him alone. And to his surprise, they did. They just stood there at the last row of chairs and didn’t do anything. They didn’t even like…..emote..or move like,,, at all? Alastor really thought he’d see the guys get impatient and start fidgeting and moving around until someone gave some sort of signal and let everything go to hell, but nope. They stood there patiently during the whole solo.

- They started avoiding him after that incident, strangely. Like when you’re walking on the sidewalk, and you see someone really creepy person walking towards you on that same sidewalk, so you take the time to move to the other sidewalk? That, except Alastor was the alleged creepy person and the bullies were the person who took the time to exchange sidewalks.

- The only other time he caught them again was around half a month later? That was after class outside the school when he was waiting for his mom to pick him up from choir class. The bullies really couldn’t help themselves but make fun of his choir robes on their way out, but he was a bit more prepared for this encounter than they had anticipated.

- He started singing again, belting simple commands and making them pick things up and walk around and

- Listen.

- The power could not have gone to his head any faster.

- He made them dance intricate ballets and sing along to some of his chords, all until his mother finally drove up.

- He released the bullies, and went on with his day, solidifying his brand new status as someone to be feared.

- During his teenage years he fully embraced this status.

- Boy became a 100% certified hunk

- I mean punk

- But actually though I didn’t mean to type hunk

- All of his clothes were either ripped or leather and he grew out his hair, and he kept his sick musical note glasses from when he was young (he just got a bigger pair is what I mean, his head still grew).

- Really, he was the kid that no one would want to mess with, as well as the one your parents warned you about when you were six.

- He was a bean pole until puberty literally turned him into a box man.

- Literally though.

- His shoulders got broad, his muscles got big, and his assssests became uh, more ideal for a villain? Yes let’s go with that.

- What I’m saying is, bean became box and also he’s a part time criminal.

- He kind of just stole little things, like a pack of gum that wouldn’t be missed from those racks of stuff near the cash register at a Stop and Shop or something.

- And then he robbed a bank over the intercom, that was pretty impressive.

- Am I uh

- Am I done?

- Honestly I’m sure I’ll come up with more things eventually.

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Glow

Did you know that the origins of Valentine's Day spin around the areas of martyrdom and ancient rulers of jolly old England? So Ginny finds out on a four day romantic vacation with their little family of four. A sequel to Kindle.

FFnet / Ao3

Cozy warmth greets Ginny as she shoves the door closed behind her, cheeks tingling as the chill slowly melts away. It’s been that awkward type of winter weather, where rain turns to sleet, winds beat against window panes, and Ginny wants to wrap herself in a heating blanket to never emerge.

But unless ‘heating blanket tester’ has now become a viable career option, her dreams are less than achievable. So she settles for work she loves and coming home to a cozy space heater of a husband. If anything to do with Harry being her husband can ever be called ‘settling.’

Shoulder knocking against the door as she wrestles dripping wellies from her feet, Ginny lets out a deep sigh and begins to let the stress of her day float off her shoulders. Tonight was pizza night, tomorrow was her first day off in nine days, and Harry’s rented the newest comic book hero whatever film.  

All in all, her projected plans are the stuff of dreams and enough to give her the final burst of energy to wriggle her coat from her arms.  

It’s only once she’s finished hanging the sodden wool to dry and tossed her scarf over its customary hook that Ginny really notices the odd silence hanging about the flat. With barking feet and tingling, wind chapped fingers, she picks her way through their little terrace house in search of her little trio of miscreants. “Ted?  Harry?” she pauses, “James?”

A few more paces bring her just outside Harry’s study, golden light spilling from the half open door as Harry’s voice floats out in a low murmur. “And this is where Nana, Granddad, and Uncle Sirius lived - you’ve been there,” Ginny peers around the corner in time to see Harry shift to tickle James’ little belly, “Though James was just a little bean.”

Teddy nods, a careful finger tracing over the broad pages of the atlas, “I remember, the aeroplane.”

Smiling softly, Ginny tries to preserve the sight in her mind, all three boys splayed across the cozy rug they seem to prefer over any sofa she might find, socked feet kicked up behind them - with James’ barely clinging to his toes. After a moment, she fumbles for her mobile and takes a snapshot, forgetting the volume in her eagerness, and somehow manages to capture the image before all three startle at the noise.

Harry flips over onto his back, one elbow holding him up while his spectacles dangle precariously from his nose. And if that wasn’t adorable enough, James seems to take this as an invitation to climb atop his Dad’s belly like a ride at the carnival while Teddy struggles to shift the unwieldy atlas atop his legs.

“Hello, dear.”

“Hello, my loves,” Ginny says, tugging off her damp socks and tossing them aside before she claims a seat next to Teddy and lifts him onto her lap. Someday, soon, he’ll have grown too big to hold, but she’s not giving him up a day early.

She ruffles James’ already wild (and dangerously thick) hair, accepts a chaste kiss from Harry, and gives Teddy’s tummy a gentle squeeze. “How are my favorite blokes? Plotting an adventure?”

Teddy shares an eager look with Harry, who shakes his head almost imperceptibly and changes the topic with something just short of finesse, “We uh - I was showing the boys where I’ve gone on digs. And then where Mum and Dad and Sirius lived.”

“Potters are a globetrotting bunch,” Ginny agrees as Teddy wriggles in her lap, “Always up for a new escapade.”

Harry tenses when Teddy opens his mouth again, yet his jaw clamps shut as Harry clears his throat, “Speaking of - we’ve got the new superhero part whatever all ready in the den.”

Ginny narrows her eyes at Harry, who forces a look of innocence that wouldn’t fool Snuffles , and rises. “I’ll go order dinner. You three tidy up.”

Before long, their fresh sandwiches and steaming soups arrive and the little family is gathered around a scratched and well-loved kitchen table that’s held up many a meal and late writing session. Teddy’s dunking his grilled cheese with bacon and avocado into his tomato bisque when Harry nudges Ginny’s foot under the table.

She jolts a little, sending pureed veggies dripping down James’ cheek. He seems unaffected, in fact if anything the mess makes him more eager to eat the spoonful. Ginny mirrors his grin and taps his nose with a little ‘boop’ and then gives Harry her attention. “Yes, my love?”

“The boys and I - well I was. Valentine’s day is coming up.”

“So many poor sentences died in the making of that statement.”

Laughing, Harry swipes one of her crisps and bites down with a crunch. “Sorry.”

“Care to have another go?”

“I get that long weekend with my class schedule this semester.”

“Yes and it is glorious . I seem to recall a particularly lovely Friday morning romp…”

Teddy glances up and Harry’s real concerned they’ve just managed to prompt the birds and the bees chat about two years too early, but the little Lupin seems blissfully unaware. “Did ya ask Gin about the trip?”

Ginny smirks and Harry widens his eyes at Teddy. “Not yet.”

“What’s this trip?”

“So Valentine’s Day.”

Taking Ginny’s answering hum as invitation to continue, Harry blusters on, “Well the whole holiday is a bit odd - I mean did you know it’s actually based on pretty dark real life events?”

Her gaze darts toward Teddy, who’s raptly listening as Harry explains, but he waves her concern away and continues, “Ted’s fine. So the original, real St. Valentine was actually martyred way back when - ”

“Is that the technical term, Mr. Historian?”

“Hey, it’s Dr. Historian.”

Ginny’s eyes flash and Harry finds himself mentally calculating the hours until both boys will be asleep but eventually gets back on track. “Anyway, he was beheaded and then was named a saint. So all these churches and historical societies and whatnot say they have bits of him.”

“Still not seeing how this is age appropriate for Teddy Bear,” Ginny says with a quirked brow, but Teddy just grins, missing teeth creating an adorable little gap at the front of his smile, and bites into the second half of his sandwich with relish.

“And they’ve got his head in Winchester.”

“Are you asking me to take our boys to Winchester to see St. Valentine’s head,” she pauses to amend, “ alleged head - on our four day romantic holiday weekend?” Sheepish and looking almost boyish, Harry attempts a response, “What would happen if I say that I do?”

“I think,” Ginny’s face lights up with love, “That I would love you even more.”

“Brilliant, then start loving me,” he chuckles, eyes squeezed in delight.

“Patience is a virtue,” Ginny winks, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

And like any other virtue, Harry had to practice his a handful of hours before the night set in and both boys were peacefully snoozing in their beds.

“So,” Ginny rolls on her side, open palm on Harry’s chest, “Care to impart some more knowledge on that head of Saint Valentine bit from earlier?”

“You like it when I talk nerdy, huh?” He wiggles two ebony eyebrows, fingers sneaking to tickle his wife on her belly.

Laughing and batting his hands away, Ginny stretches her arms to steal his glasses. Adjusting the round specs over her nose, she requests in all seriousness, “Better start talking, Daddy.”

“Careful, Gin,” Harry’s eyes flash, his voice husky, hungry.

“To quote Beyonce, I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want,” she sticks her tongue out, palms moving under her head for comfort and a better view for a certain professor-doctor-archaeologist. “I’m listening,” Ginny giggles a moment later, snapping him out of his reverie.

“I swear they trained you in the area of light torture at that school of yours,” Harry shakes his head, gathering his lanky limbs under him as he shuffles to sit cross-legged on his side of the bed. “Where do I start? There’s the New Minster in Winchester, which was a royal Benedictine abbey founded in 901. Thing is, when they built it next to the original cathedral, also known by the name of Old Minster, the two buildings were so close to one another that the voices of the two choirs merged with chaotic results.”

“You’re a bit sad you weren’t there to witness that, aren’t you?” Ginny jokes, her feet gently landing in Harry’s lap as he traces their outline with his thumb.

“A bit. Now how familiar are you with Queen Emma of Normandy?” He plows on as Ginny waves her hand vaguely, a gesture meaning “not much” in the non-verbal thesaurus they’ve both adopted. “Well, Emma of Normandy was queen consort of England , Denmark and Norway. She was the daughter of Richard I, Duke of Normandy , and his second wife, Gunnora . Actually, through her marriages to Æthelred the Unready and Cnut the Great, she became the Queen Consort of England, Denmark, and Norway. She was the mother of three sons, King Edward the Confessor , Alfred Ætheling , and King Harthacnut , as well as two daughters, Goda of England , and Gunhilda of Denmark . She was one of the most politically active actors of the era, practically ruling England through the voices of her sons because, you know, people were still a tad paranoid and didn’t yet trust women.”

“Their loss.”

“You said it. So we already know Emma was politically involved and whatnot, but as important about her is the fact that she closely followed the tradition of Saint Helena. In short, this means that Emma was noted for her generosity to different churches and religious communities. On the topic, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle mentions that on the death of her son Harthacnut, Emma offered the head of St. Valentine to the New Minster Winchester for the benefit of his soul in 1041. But what it doesn’t mention is how she managed to get hold of a relic that was peacefully buried in Rome, pay to have it and then deliver it as an offering for her son’s death, and it drives me batty,” Harry groans in heavy academically induced frustration.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ginny comforts him, tugging at his hands so he falls over her.

“Not that I care when I’m this close to you, but during the English Civil War, the remains of Cnut’s line were disinterred and scattered about the Cathedral floor by parliamentary forces,” Harry breathes as he nips at her jaw.

“What a mess,” she exhales, rapidly losing track of what they were discussing when his palms roam over a place or two they both know she likes.

Harry hums and lightly bites at her earlobe.  “Mhm, they knew how to make a good mess back in the day.”

Ginny’s fingers tighten at his shoulders and she grumbles. “Stop teasing and let’s start making our own mess.”

“Gladly,” Harry says with a chuckle, drawing the covers over them both.

After much arranging of schedules, booking of train tickets, packing and repacking, the little family of four trundles off to Winchester. Light rain patters against the windows, only occasional spears of sunlight piercing through the grey cloud cover.

James is dozing against Harry’s shoulder, his chubby cheeks flushed red and his inky shock of hair a peaked riot over his forehead.

Teddy, meanwhile, has his nose pressed to the window pane, grey-blue eyes darting to examine every hill, cottage, and what have you that passes.

With a contented sigh, Ginny lets her head droop against Harry’s shoulder, her fingers stretching to smooth along Teddy’s straining back. “I might have a kip.”

“You should, because once we’re in Winchester I have plans to keep you busy,” Harry agrees.

Chuckling, Ginny nuzzles closer to Harry and murmurs, “You know that’s a lot less sensual than the casual observer would guess.”

“I dunno, carefully preserved decapitated heads of saints are pretty hot.”

“Keeping your proclivities quiet until I’m too invested to jump ship - not cool, Potter.”

“Go to sleep, Weasley-Potter,” Harry shoots back, pressing a kiss to Ginny’s hairline and slumping a bit on the bench, “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Before long, the steady rumble of the train lulls Ginny to sleep, Harry’s well-loved woolen jumper comfortingly familiar against her cheek and James’ little puffs of breath slow and even. After what feels like mere minutes, she’s jostled awake by the slowing pace of the train and Teddy’s insistent tugging at her sleeve. “We’re here .”

Ginny pinches the tip of his nose. “Thanks, Teddy Bear.”

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, an echo of his arguments that he’s much too old for such a baby-ish title, but the flush on his cheeks and suppressed smile assure Ginny she can get a bit more use out of it.

James woke at some point during her sleep, though Harry’s expertise in keeping children busy and quiet - forged in the fire of his PhD - prevented the youngest Potter from waking her. He pauses his faux automobile noises and halts the little yellow and red dump truck halfway across Harry’s forehead and makes a noise he seems to use when he’s attempting to get Ginny’s attention. In reality it’s some vague ‘mmmm’ noise that could just as easily mean he simply associates Ginny with food and is trying to convey ‘yummy.’

Either way, Ginny likes to rub it in that she got a name first.

With minimal drama, the foursome disembark, luggage and pram in tow, and Harry heads off with Teddy to claim their reserved car. Ginny tugs the diaper bag further up her shoulder and resettles James on her hip, then makes her way toward the little family bathroom since James’ smell is getting a bit rough for even a mother to bear.

He coos up at her as she lays him down on the table and she tickles his belly. “Your dad is a little arse, leaving all this ,” she gestures down south, “for me.”

And she’ll fight anyone who says James didn’t send her a supremely sympathetic look even as she swiped him clean.

Harry and Teddy swap out with Ginny and James, heading off to the loo before they start on the drive into town.  

They’d booked a little cottage not long after the initial chat, a cozy brick thing on an estate just outside Winchester. Harry’d mapped it all out, and their longest travel time would be about a quarter of an hour, assuming traffic is as unlikely as he suspects.

By the time he and Teddy return, Ginny’s got James all buckled into his seat and has claimed the drivers’ side for herself. Rolling down the window as they approach, Ginny leans across the center console and lets her best smirk tick up the corner of her lips. “Get in, hot stuff.”

Teddy grimaces and tugs his own door open, already distracted by telling James everything fun they’re going to do on their holiday in the country. Harry, meanwhile, has propped his forarms on the open window and ducked his head down, eyes scrunched against the late morning sun. “You better not let my wife hear you propositioning me like that, she’s a bit jealous when it comes down to it.”

“Well then get in before she comes ‘round,” Ginny shoots back, tilting her sunglasses down and lifting her brows in challenge.

Harry barks out a laugh and complies, slipping into the passenger’s seat and twisting to double check the boys before Ginny pulls away from the curb.

Sometime during her nap and between London and Winchester, the stormy winter sky gave way to an almost imitation of a spring morning. The chill still nips at cheeks, noses, and fingers, and Teddy’s able to keep up his favorite winter car ride activity - foggy pictures drawn on cold windows - while Harry fiddles with the radio. The sun’s well and truly glowing overhead, warm rays turning Harry’s blue-black hair golden and his eyes sparkling as he laughs unreservedly at Teddy’s tale of his most recent foray into the fine art of finger painting.  James wriggles happily at the sound, joining in with his own giggles, and Ginny finds as she splashes through puddles and the road turns from bumpy asphalt to rutted dirt, that she’s never been quite this happy.

The cottage is just as adorable as advertised, rooms beautifully appointed with stylish but homey tufted chairs, fresh bundles of lavender tucked everywhere, marshmallow-like beds with goose down pillows, and a gorgeous garden Ginny could lie in for hours on end and not be bored.

Teddy quickly claims his bed, a fluffy little something in a room of his own but accessible enough that they’ll all feel at ease even in an odd location. The owners set up a cot for James so he can share with Teddy, and the kitchen is an absolute dream.

“This is spoiling me,” Ginny grins wide, taking in the sight of the cosy and warm cottage.

Harry sets down the groceries they’d stopped off for in between Hampshire at the train station and runs his palm along the shined countertops. “Our kitchen is going to seem a bit of a let down after this.”

Teddy’s holding James’ hands and babbling on about all the games they’ll play in the yard when Ginny tucks herself into Harry’s side. “This was a good idea.”

“I’m full of them - comes with being a PhD.”

“You’re full of something alright.”

“Don’t get testy, you’ll be a doctor sooner or later.”

“It feels more like later or never,” Ginny groans, pressing her forehead into his chest dejectedly, “Did your program feel this endless?”

His hands rise to knead at her shoulders, and she nearly moans with the release. â As she huffs out a breath, Harry murmurs, “I think you need a few days without shop talk - we both might.”

“You, in a museum, with no shop talk.”

“No - I mean nothing we actually do at the university or at work or what have you,” Harry amends, hands moving from short squeezes to long strokes up and down Ginny’s back.

“I bet you’ll break first.”

“So competitive.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

And before Harry can volley back, Teddy shouts about rabbits in the yard and they’re spilling into the garden, wellies squeaking against the cobbled path.

Ginny wakes the following morning to a depressingly empty bed, given it’s Valentine’s Day, but finds herself soon mollified as the scents and sounds of frying bacon, toast, and some other lovelies to fill her hungry belly.

Lazily, she twists onto her side and blinks at the clock. It’s well past her normal waking time and Ginny starts when she realizes James hasn’t woken her. With a steadying breath, Ginny works her way from beneath the twisted sheets and sets her feet on the plush rug, warm heady scents mingling and calling her from the comfort of bed. Ah, coffee.

Grabbing one of the thick, luxurious dressing gowns hung against the wall, Ginny fluffs the collar around her neck and shuffles into the hall.

There’s clattering, easy chatter (courtesy of Teddy), and easy rhythms filling the air. Harry loves his playlists.

James claps gleefully when Ginny rounds the corner and Harry temporarily pauses his little dance - mostly the dorkiest and most tempting little arse wiggles known to man - and Teddy trots over to show her his latest foray into the art world.

Ginny combs his lank hair back and Harry turns to press a dry kiss over her forehead before resuming his last few tosses and dressings. “Everybody grab a seat, breakfast is up.”

With much excitement and the joviality that only seems to ever arise on holiday, the little family gathers around the wooden island, plates full and hearts even more so.

Dishes are soon washed, the family dispersed to dress and ready for a day of sightseeing, and Ginny finds her husband turned a bit amorous despite his earlier ‘all business’ focus on their vittles. She’s just finished tugging a creamy oversized cashmere sweater overhead (purchased particularly for this trip), when Harry’s chilly hands wrap around her middle from behind. “How’s things, Mrs. Potter?”

Shivering, Ginny twists and flicks her fiery locks free of the rolled collar of her sweater. “Better before your little icy intrusion.”

“I have it on good authority that my hands  - icy or no - are a ‘gift from the gods.’”

“Stuff it, Potter,” Ginny says, hoping for something a bit less breathy than she ends up with as Harry’s fingers tickle at the waistband of her knickers.

Humming against her neck, Harry pulls Ginny closer. “Is that a rebuff or an invitation?”

With a snort, Ginny swipes at Harry’s face, nearly upsetting his spectacles, and earning a scoff in response. “Off with you, we’ve got a carefully preserved decapitated head to see. Now put on some trousers.”

“I never thought I’d hear that sentence.”

Ginny shrugs and flops back onto the unmade bed, tugging her jeans over her hips. “Well it’s cold out - can’t have you freezing off my best friend.”

Harry does the same, minus the bed wriggling, and lets out an affronted gasp. “Three years in and I find out you’re just sticking around for my goods.”

“What good goods they are though,” Ginny answers dreamily, fingertips stroking along his hip, “You’re a right temptress, Dr. Potter.”

“I don’t think - ”

An ominous thud followed by Teddy’s even more unsettling assurance that ‘everything is ok’ breaks the little banter-laden flirtation. Harry sends a longing look Ginny’s way and buttons his jeans. “I’ve got it.”

It only takes another quarter of an hour, two plasters for Teddy’s elbow and shin, and a final nappy check for James before they’re bundled into the little rental car, crunching over gravel and onto the asphalt covered in melty snow.

Teddy seems recovered from his little episode with the iced over back steps, pointing out landmarks and other points of interest (mainly a stray sheep or two) while James listens intently and sucks on his faux key ring.

Harry’s claimed the role of driver this time, seeing as he plotted the way to Winchester Cathedral from their rental the moment it became one of their top five contenders. As they trundle down the narrow roads, Ginny wedges herself against the door, bright sun warming her face so she’s halfway to purring like a satisfied kitten.  

Like an old lady, or perhaps a baby, depending on your preference, Ginny finds herself lulled to sleep by the gentle hum of the car engine, Teddy’s easy chatter, and Harry’s answering ‘mhmm.’

Soon enough, Harry cranks the motor off and prods her gently awake. “We’re here.”

“Mm, I’m ready for some good old fashioned brain-growing, museum-touring fun.”

Teddy wriggles excitedly in his booster seat while James seems to have used up his good behavior on the ride over and begins his best impression of an air raid siren.  

Unclipping his belt with practiced ease, Ginny lifts James from his car seat and sniffs at his bum. “Fresh as a daisy,” she asserts, lowering him to her eye level and smirking, “Seems like someone is just being a little dramatic.”

“Gets that from his mum,” Harry teases, gripping Teddy’s shoulder as a bicyclist shoots past.  

Ginny rubs her nose against James’ and murmurs, “Guess Daddy forgot about the Ancient Aliens incident.”

“It’s a slight against the progress made by our ancestors to attribute their greatest achievements to extraterrestrials that probably don’t exist.”

Teddy blinks up at Harry, “But what if they do?”

“What if they what?”

“The aliens - if they’re real then saying they didn’t do it would be bad too.”

“Touche, Ted,” Harry allows as Ginny slips James into his pram and they take their little parade over the crosswalk.

Oaks and Medlars stand like bare sentinels lining every street, sidewalk, and byway, hovering over wooden benches bearing the last remnants of the previous night’s flurries.

They pass the University on the way and Ginny can’t miss the way Harry’s gaze flits longingly toward what’s got to be the library, given the students streaming out in little clumps with armfuls of books. She elbows his arm and earns a chuckle while Teddy crunches every leaf or branch he can find. James, meanwhile, is becoming increasingly dissatisfied with being strapped into a pram and favors leaning out as far as possible to see anything and everything while he kicks his little boots helplessly.

It’s not a far walk to the cathedral, and soon broad red signs boasting adverts for each of the special exhibits on display, Kings and Scribes, seasonal events for obvious reasons, and a few local events scheduled for the next few days.

The towering spires of Winchester Cathedral are no less impressive and stalwart than you’d guess, shooting up into the sky like spears, the front face is broad and boasts intricate glasswork inlaid amid stacked bricks. Statues paying tribute to saints and heroes rise up from the brown earth.  

Inside, chairs are set in meticulous rows behind lovingly waxed pews that have held worshippers for centuries. Shined floors reflect everything that passes over them like mirrors, a fact taken advantage of by artists who’ve set bronze sculptures in the light cast by the intricate windows.

In something like a fairytale, James and Teddy seem stunned into good and quiet behavior as they pick their way through the cathedral. After making a circuit of the main sanctuary, arched ceilings lead them toward a broad room filled with glass cases and carefully catalogued artifacts.

Unsurprisingly, the skull is given pride of place, on display in a gilded tank-like case. Mere seconds before contact, Harry grabs Teddy’s perpetually grubby fingers and reads from the plaque. “Valentine’s Day originated as a Western Feast Day celebrating an early Catholic Saint, Valentinus…”

Ginny peers over his shoulder, “He could use a dentist, eh?”

Teddy snorts and Harry rolls his eyes, though a grin tickles his lips.  

Throughout the day, as Teddy and James manage to remain relatively entertained by every nerdy fact and object Harry throws at them, Ginny finds herself wondering if it’s nature or nurture that has managed to ensure both boys are pretty solidly in the nerd zone.  

Not that she’s completely without blame, or whatever you call it.  

They make it through everything the New Minster has to offer, plus about a third of the University before breaking for lunch when James’ whimpers start, which are inevitably followed by louder wails until he’s fed. Plus Harry’s got that pre-hangry look in his eyes that Ginny’s learned not to test. After some poking around on the internet, they settle on Piecaramba which has pretty consistent reviews and some delicious looking menu items. Harry’s feeling adventurous and orders up a vegan something or other while Teddy and Ginny order a Bounty Hunter (buttery crust filled with chicken, bacon and melted cheese in a barbeque sauce) and fish & chips to share. James is contented with his pureed veggies so long as Ginny offers him a bit of crust so he can have pie too.

The rest of the day passes smoothly, until they wander back home for a family dinner and cozy evening spent in front of a roaring fire while snow falls gently outside.

It’s still early when the boys drift off, overtired from the trip and a long day to boot, and soon Harry and Ginny are tucked up on the couch. Cozy, warm, familiar, and more than a little amorous on Valentine’s day.

Wine poured and wireless cranked low, Harry prods the fire back to life and tucks himself against Ginny’s side with a sigh. “Who knew two children below the age of ten could be so tiring.”

Ginny chuckles around the rim of her glass and lets her head fall against Harry’s. “Probably most people.”

“I must’ve missed that lesson.”

“And you call yourself a PhD,” Ginny says, teasing as she lifts her hand to comb through Harry’s wild locks.

He nuzzles closer, breath coming out in warm puffs against her collar bone, sending her heart thudding. For a moment, Ginny considers the possibility that it’s unintentional, the way he’s making her wild. Until his chilly fingers breach the waistband of her trousers, prodding, seeking, but never quite delivering much of anything.

“You’re a menace, Potter.”

Harry sits up, twisting to get closer as his right hand rises to mirror his left. “So’re you, Gin. God when you’re not even trying,” the end of his thought is lost to Ginny’s lips as she tips them until her back hits the cushions.

Jumpers are quickly abandoned - Ginny pauses to smack Harry and tell him cashmere never gets tossed on the floor - and trousers loosened until they both come to their senses, a log cracking in the fire drawing them from the haze. “We have two kids, and one can walk,” Harry murmurs against Ginny’s sternum, his chest heaving as she takes a steadying breath.

Ginny hums.

“Maybe take this behind a locked door?”

They both straighten, Ginny running careless fingers through her knotted waves while Harry searches for his spectacles.

“I’m just going to take them off again,” Ginny laughs, grabbing her sweater and sauntering toward the bedroom.

Raising his fist triumphantly, Harry slips his glasses back over his ears and basically stalks across the room until Ginny’s shoulders brush the soft yellow wall. “I want to be able to see. Everything.”

“You - hm.”

“Speechless, Potter?”

“Not yet, but we’ve got time,” Ginny winks, but before she can depart with a cheeky strut, Harry’s arm bands around her middle and somehow she’s tossed over his shoulder.  

“Such a he-man.”

“I’m reinforcing the idea that I’m a virile mate good for procreation.”

Ginny snorts as Harry drops her on the mattress, nearly sending her bouncing to the carpet. She props herself up on her elbows and shimmies her shoulders a bit. “Mm, bring it on, nerdy man.”

Harry shucks his jeans and kicks them away, then easily slips his socks off. “Have I ever told you about the intricate burial practices of the Maya?”

Ginny wriggles free of her trousers and throws her head back with a dramatic moan, “Oh, Harry!”

He’s cradled between her thighs now and nipping at her jaw. “There were thousands of different positions bodies could be placed in to symbolize status and the journey the deceased would take in the afterlife.”

As her hands wander low, Ginny laughs and nudges Harry’s lips towards hers. “I feel like this little academic exercise is about two sentences from creepy.”

He nods. “Me too. No more talking?”

She flips their positions and grips Harry’s wrists. “No more talking.”

The Potters plus Lupin sleep late the following morning in that magical, restful way that only seems possible on holiday. Teddy knocks on the door to Harry and Ginny’s room around half past nine, letting Ginny know James is doing his little ‘I’m hungry’ whimper and that if it matters, he’s a bit hungry too.

Chuckling, Harry tells Teddy to go start setting the table. Once the door falls shut, Harry flops back against the still warm bed sheets and groans. “Ah, Gin. I can’t tell if I’m too old for this or too young.”

“You’re just right, Goldilocks,” Ginny says, wandering across the room to find her pajamas in the tall chest of drawers tucked in the far corner.  

As she slips her flannels over her hips, Harry somehow droops further. “That is the saddest sight in the entire world.”

With a snort, Ginny tosses a fresh pair of pants Harry’s way and nudges the drawers closed with her hip. Harry rolls from the bed and drags his boxers over his bum. “No, Harry. That is the saddest sight in the world.”

They share a rueful grin and Ginny presses a kiss to his forehead before disappearing into the hall, James’ whines gaining in volume. After a second, Ginny peers back around the doorframe, floorboards creaking underneath her feet. “Your son.”

Before long, breakfast is on the table, the family’s gathered around, and sunlight’s spearing through the brilliant white curtains. There’s swiping of sausage links, butter spread over crisp toast, and cubed fruit popped like bits of candy. Harry’s nothing if not an overzealous breakfast chef. But it’s just one of the many ways Ginny learned Harry’s love is less often told, and most likely to be seen and experienced. He’ll blush trying to whisper sweet nothings and then proofread, edit, and notate an academic article you’ve half finished writing while you sleep. And make dinner.

Tidying the kitchen is a quick affair and Teddy’s doing his best to carry James into the living room to play with the toys he’d managed to fit in his luggage (a few more than the ‘your three favorites’ instruction Harry’d given).  

Harry and Ginny take turns in the shower - the lure of saving water overcome by the litany of terrible outcomes possible if the boys were left on their own - and by eleven, they’re all bundled and headed out into the yard.

The previous day’s flurries and the heavier snowfall overnight have cloaked everything in a soft layer of white. James is strapped to Harry’s chest and Teddy immediately claims the southern corner of the yard, shouting that he’s established Fort Lupin.

As he begins raising a thick, bumpy wall, Ginny works the snow into a stronghold of her own. When Harry attempts to take refuge, she tosses a few shoddily made snowballs to keep him out, careful to avoid James’ little capped head.

Teddy gives him similar treatment and Harry moans dramatically that he’s a man without a country. Which earns some jeers and a stuck out tongue from Teddy.  

Once their hovels are built, there’s a pause while each army fills up their armory and then uneasy silence before the first projectile is thrown.

Harry, Ginny, and Teddy share tense glances, the air silent save for a few birds arcing overhead. Until James becomes bored with nothing to do and no one to play with. His shout-giggle serves as the gauntlet thrown and then the yard is filled with flying snowballs.

It’s a morning to remember, soggy, sunny, and filled with laughter. Cheeks are red with exertion and chill, Harry’s hat is lost in the fray, and Ginny tosses her mittens aside in favor of accuracy (ignoring Harry’s assertions that she’ll lose a finger to frostbite).

And when the little family collapses in a heap on the living room floor, bellies aching with laughter, Ginny thinks she’s never had a better Valentine’s Day.

Ginny’s got her first Saturday off work since March began so it’s only natural that she spends the small amount of time her boys are napping treating herself to a bubble bath, candles and music included.

“Smells nice,” says Harry, shuffling his slippered feet inside the en-suite bathroom, bleary eyed and hair sticking all over.

“Cherry Vanilla,” Ginny smiles, clearing the brim of the tub and adding a clean towel on top of it for Harry to sit comfortably. It’s almost become a tradition of theirs, her long baths accompanied by their long talks, with Harry rubbing her shoulders or gently washing her hair after an exhausting week of mind numbing but overall rewarding work.

He takes another appreciative sniff and claims the improvised seat, bending to reach the soap and spinning it between his palms until a satisfying coat of lather’s been created. He washes her back in silence, Ginny’s small moans of pleasure punctuating his strokes over her shoulders from time to time.

When he’s done, his hands travel up to her temples and tenderly massage them in large to smaller circles as she hums, relaxed.

“So what’s for dinner?” Ginny asks, leaning to rest her back as her feet stretch until they reach the wall of the tub.

“What would the beautiful lady prefer?” Harry smirks, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear.

“Not cheesy pizza,” she grimaces.

“Well that’s new,” Harry raises an eyebrow, unaccustomed to his wife not wholeheartedly embracing the opportunity to gorge herself with some cheesy something or other.

“Dunno, I’m just not feeling it.”

“Okay, how about pasta?”

“Bah,” her nose crinkles as she dips herself under the water until it nearly reaches the tip of her nose.

“I’m getting the distinct feeling James inherited his distaste of whatever I propose as a meal from you,” Harry chuckles. “Paella?”

“God no!”

“So you’re not feeling very mediterranean tonight. Are you feeling anything though?  Because I’m honestly out of ideas.” Harry’s shoulders slump as he watches Ginny pout, blowing bubbles through her pursed lips, unable to comprehend what’s bothering her. If he recalls, she’s never refused any of the aforementioned dishes and, luckily for his academic career, his memory is still in tip-top shape.

“Not particularly, but - oh,” Ginny’s eyes widen. A pause, then she rapidly rises from the sudsy water, splashes all over and jumps on the bathmat with accuracy, leaving Harry behind blinking and feeling very confused.

“Gin?” He calls, scratches the back of his head. Yet no one answers. “Ginny?” Harry tries again, raising to his feet to go after her.

“Harry?” Her voice quivers as she speaks his name, naked in the middle of their bedroom.

“Alright, love?” Harry quickly closes the distance between them, cups her brow and searches deep inside her chocolate brown eyes, worried and ready to shield her from any pain or sorrow.

“How would you feel about me wearing your sweaters this winter?”

“Brilliant, I guess. But I thought you really loved yours - oh,” He freezes as he finally understands, “We’re doing it again, aren’t we?”

A mischievous glint forms at the corner of her eyes and Ginny grins, “You mean the whole baby madness because yes!  If my calculations are correct, that is - I think this is a surprise souvenir from Winchester.”

Harry smiles softly and holds her for a moment, arms draped around her shoulders as happiness unfolds inside his chest. And it grows and it grows until he can’t keep it still any longer so he lets himself laugh and cry at the same time, love and a feeling of completeness unraveling themselves in that moment, encompassing between kisses and clumsy hands hurrying to rid him of his clothes. Without a second thought, she wraps her bare thighs around his middle and he carries them both to bed, to celebrate the magic of having once again created life.

Later, cozy and sated among the messy bedsheets, Harry cuddles Ginny closer against his chest and laughs like a puff of air from his lungs. “Can you believe it?”

Ginny hums. “We really are good at that.”

“No - I mean yes we are but. Another baby - and conceived on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

“Bloody is right - he was beheaded you know.”

Harry snorts. “What an amazing piece of trivia. Anyone who shares knowledge like that is a gentleman and a scholar.”

“And a virile little baby maker,” Ginny adds.

“Two to tango.”

“What a tango it was.”

we're always over the moon to hear what you think so please don't hesitate to share with us :) we’ve missed fluffy-nerdy hinny dearly so bringing them back just in time for valentine’s day was a real fun ride!

lots of love and may your valentine's be as you wish it to be, @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves

[stonathans-stranger]

for the au prompts could you possibly do anderperry with 7? thank you!!

you got it!! this is a fake relationship au where the boys of dps (minus Todd) are desperately trying to find Neil a date for his sister’s wedding, which is rounding the corner in two weeks. Coming in with words, here’s “Yes, I’m Falling In Love With Someone, Plain to See”, based off of “I Turned the Corner/I’m Falling in Love With Someone” from Thoroughly Modern Millie.

“Sooo,” Natalia said, plopping down on Neil’s bed. “Are you bringing someone to the wedding?”

“Like…a date?” Neil asked tentatively, typing furiously on his computer. He just had to churn out a few more words for Latin and then he was finished.

“Could be.” Natalia shrugged, grabbing an Oreo from Neil’s stash. “Or just a friend. You know I love when you bring your friends over. They’re so much fun. Plus, Pitts makes a mean salsa.”

“It’s fine.” Neil sighed. “I won’t have to bring them.” Natalia’s face lit up.

“You have a boyfriend?!” She exclaimed.

“What? I-” Neil looked at Natalia with wild eyes. “Ye-yeah! Yeah, I do, Nat.”

“Neil James Perry! And you didn’t tell me? Lunacy!” She cried. “Tell me all about him.”

“Well, he’s really nice, he’s very funny, and he almost gets as good a’ grades as me.” Neil smiled nervously.

“Gosh, I can’t wait to meet him.” Natalia fawned, grabbing another cookie. “Bring him over for dinner sometime.”

“Guys,” Neil said, the next day at lunch. “I did something horrible.”

“What now?” Meeks laughed, unpacking his sandwich from his lunch box.

“I told Nat that my date to her wedding was my boyfriend.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” Knox said, confusion passing over his face.

“Exactly.”

“You lied? To Nat?!” Meeks exclaimed, his eyes almost bugging out of his head.

“I knoooow,” Neil groaned. “What am I gonna do?”

Charlie waltzed over to the table, tossing an apple between his hands, and sliding into his seat next to Knox and across from Neil in one smooth motion.

“Good day, gentlemen.” Charlie said, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Charlie! I need your help.” Neil practically shouted.

“What else is new?” Charlie laughed. “Alright, what’s it this time?”

“I told Nat that my date to her wedding is my boyfriend. And I don’t have one. I need someone to I don’t know, fake-date till her wedding, and then fake-break up with afterwards.”

“Sounds like you solved your own problem.” Charlie said, biting into his apple.

“No! Do you have absolutely anyone in mind, anyone at all?” Neil pleaded.

“Maybe one person.”

“Anderson, you’d love him. He’s handsome, he’s intelligent, he plays tennis with me and the boys and he’s damn good, he’s a softie, Anderson, goddamnit, he writes poetry from Chrissake!”

“Poetry?” Todd scoffed. “Don’t you write poetry?”

“Can it, Anderson. Besides, can you imagine it? You both get dressed up in nice suits, have good food, bust it down on the dance floor for a couple hours, then you never have to see this kid again, yeah? Plus fifty bucks.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not too hard.” Todd hung up the phone.

And he’ll be damned if he wasn’t going to spend a nice evening with this handsome, intelligent, poetry-writing boy Charlie described.

Todd strolled into the tennis courts the next night, just as practice ended.

“Anderson!” Charlie called, waving him over to court two, where a few boys Todd recognized stood with Charlie, and a couple he didn’t. “Hey, Todd. So, you thought about it?”

“Yeah. And I think it’s an alright deal.” Charlie stuck out his hand for Todd to shake, and he happily obliged.

“This,” Charlie pushed a lanky, tall, brunette boy in front of him. His face was sculpted like a Greek god’s. “Is Neil Perry. Your date.”

Knox let out a low whistle.

“Todd, right?” Knox asked. He leaned over to Neil, speaking quietly into his ear, “If you don’t scoop up that fine piece of ass I just might.” He smirked. Todd still heard.

“Sorry, Overstreet.” Todd boldly grabbed Neil’s hand. “I’m a taken man.”

After a few whirlwind days of Neil being stressed and having homework up the wazoo, the two finally found a time to hang out, and set boundaries for the party.

“One kiss.” Todd insisted. “Even if it’s just a peck on the cheek. You want this to be believable?”

“Fine.” Neil huffed, scribbling down ‘kiss on cheek’. “But, you’re required to come to one family dinner. One grilling. Just so they get a feel for you.”

“That’s fine.” They went through the list, and afterwards, Todd drove Neil home, and walked him to the front door. As Neil slid his key in, the front door swung open, revealing Natalia.

“This is the boyfriend!” She squealed.

“This is the sister!” Todd cried with equal enthusiasm. Natalia gathered Todd in a big hug, patting him on the back. Natalia usheredd the two inside, and when Todd’s back was turned, his eyes wandering around the house, Natalia mouthed a sneaky ‘he’s cute!’ to Neil, who smirked, and gave Natalia a knowing look.

“My brother has told me literally nothing about you. It’s ridiculous. So, why don’t you? Now that you’re here, in person.”

“Well,” Todd started. “I run the student newspaper at Charles, I’m a delegate for Model UN, I also take photos for yearbook, and I’m apart of the sound crew for Charles’s theater department.”

“Ah, so you don’t go to Welton.” Natalia stated. “How’d you two meet?”

“Charlie.” They said in unison.

“I mean-” Neil stammered. “Charlie brought him to tennis practice one day! They were doing something after school, and we exchanged numbers, and we’ve just been together ever since.” Neil said, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Yeah,” Todd agreed, almost too soon. “He came to our choir concert a few week ago, didn’t you, Neil?”

Neil just nodded in agreement.

“I better head out.” Todd said, a few hours later.

“I’ll see you out.” Neil said, walking him to the door. Natalia was curled up on a chair in the dining area, just off the side of the foyer.

Todd gathered a part of Neil’s sweater in his fingers and dragged him forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Todd left in one swift motion, leaving Neil stunned in front of the door, his fingers grazing his lips.

“He’s nice.” Natalia said, leaning against the archway into the dining room, smirking.

“Shut the hell up, Nat.” Neil retorted, making his way upstairs.

Weeks, and many “dates” later, the two had bonded together enough that the Society forgot they weren’t actually a couple.

“How’re things going with Todd? You two seem happy together.” Knox said, serving to Neil, across the court. They talked as they warmed up, hitting easy shots straight up the middle.

“Things are fine.”

“You guys fuck yet?” Knox laughed.

“What? Knox, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Shit,” Knox said, missing an easy forehand. “You’re not? You two are constantly holding hands and talking and blushing around each other…wait, you’re sure you’re not together?”

“Yes, Knox.”

“Wow.” Knox shrugged. “Maybe you two should consider it.”

“Maybe we should.”

The two stood in front of Neil’s mirror, dressed in matching tuxes, and smiling at each other.

“Hey…I was thinking, maybe, maybe after the wedding we could maybe not break things off?” Todd adjusted his bowtie, and looked over to Neil.

“Sure! We can stay friends.”

“Maybe not friends…maybe for real this time.” Neil said, smiling tentatively. Todd returned the smile, sheepishly.

“Yeah, sure.” Todd grabbed Neil’s hand, and the two carried on.

[pontmercyingtil]

Noise & Silence, E/R ficlet

“Thou talk'st of nothing."  "True, I talk of dreams...” (Romeo and Juliet)

It’s the quiet hours that are the hardest.

Not that the other hours don’t present their own challenges. But the moments when Grantaire’s alone, before he drifts off to sleep, or when he’s staring at a blank canvas with no ideas of how to fill it, those hurt. The silence offers no distraction from thoughts he’d rather not have.

When he’s around the others, he can talk, sing, shout, dance, anything to keep the thoughts away. Paint can be splashed onto a canvas sometimes, just to rid it of its blankness, and just like that, can an empty room be filled with a rambling lecture. Combeferre once teased him, saying he spoke a great deal about nothing at all.

What the young scholar didn’t know was how nothing at all was so much better than the feeling of everything pressing down on him.

As long as the others around him were amused, and the wine was flowing, Grantaire doesn't have to feel the emptiness deep inside. It was a shard of broken glass beneath his rib cage, and it pulsed in time with his heart, whispering “Alone. Alone. Alone.”

He doesn’t want to be alone.

He’d always been alone.

Even when surrounded by others, he knows he’s alone, knows whatever he says is idle chatter, because he mattered to no one.

If he keeps the noise going, kept the party alive, then he wouldn’t have to think about the one person he wanted more than any party, more than any liquor. The one person who chose to neither party, nor drink.

The one person who could make him feel less alone, deep in his heart. Because there was something in Enjolras’s silence, in the way he could say a single word and quiet any noisy room, that calmed Grantaire’s own dark thoughts. It was that power that both drew Grantaire closer to the man, and terrified him. Does Enjolras know, that sometimes, in the still night, he dreams thoughts of revolution too? That a small, quiet part of him too long fors a better world?

No. And he will never know. Must never know. Because if he knew those thoughts, then he would too know that Grantaire is weak, unworthy, unable to face his fears. He knows he’s alone, yes, and knows that being alone is better than trying and failing to fix it.

It was the loudness that hurt him the most.

The raucous echoes inside a classroom, a roaring peal of laughter over a matter that certainly was not humorous, dirty songs shouted as they walked into the Musain. The moments that Enjolras knew he was failing, that the group assembled before him were nothing more than school boys, not revolutionaries. The noise distracts him, and sounds like a never-ending echo in his ears. Failure. Failure. Failure. 

That’s all he is. It doesn’t matter what he wants, though he wants a great deal. He’s been told all his life he’ll never amount to anything. His father used to say he was just a pretty face.

He wants to be much more than that. Enjolras  wants to succeed. He wants to change the world.

He knows that he probably won't. That all his speeches fall on ears that only hear topics for jokes or gossip, that all his pamphlets he hands out end up underneath cold glasses full of beer.

He will never amount to anything, the noise tells him. He cannot raise his voice loud enough for anyone to hear.

Courfeyrac tells him to relax, to join in the fun. What the young man doesn’t know is that Enjolras has forgotten how to do so. Laughter, in these past few months, is a feeling he has given up on. It feels too fricolous, too wasteful to imagine enjoying life.

Because if he started to enjoy life, then he might be afraid to die.

A good revolutionary must stare death in the eye, and never cower from it. He must be brave, always, a leader among the people. Stern. Calm. Collected.

But deep in his heart, Enjolras doesn’t feel like he’s any of those things. He feels like a fraud, a silly boy, a nervous wreck. Sometimes, when he raises his voice to ask those around him to silence themselves, his voice cracks like a boy’s, despite being over twenty. His studies have become a disaster, his rooms resemble a war zone, and he can never sleep, because when he lays down, he feels guilty for having not done more that day.

So, no, he does not laugh, nor dance, nor join in the joyous mess around him. He practices and he preaches and he bottles up all his fear, hiding it under a stern face that he will never admit feels like a mask.

He knows he’s a coward, and afraid of failing. But to admit it is to fail, and so he will never speak of it.

The two of them exist like this, chaos and calm, pining and fear, until one day, when Enjolras loses his temper.  Grantaire is in the corner, ranting about stars and candles and all matters of nonsense. Enjolras storms over to him, puts his hand on his shoulder, and demands, “Are you ever quiet?”

The hand causes Grantaire to turn, and to utterly, and completely, become quiet.

Enjolras looks at Grantaire. Really, really looks at him for the first time. Noticing the bump of a once broken nose, the crooked smile of someone who’s forgotten what a real one looks like.

And Enjolras can’t remember the last time he smiled, either.

It’s not a handsome face, no, but it is not a mask either. That expression, as broken as it is, is genuine, real, alive. “Not as long as I live, no.” Grantaire replies.

“And if you were to die?”

“Than I shall sing my way through the afterlife, until the angels summon me up to their lofty heights, impressed by my vocals.”

Something tugs at Enjolras’s face. A crack in the mask. A smile. “So, all this… the shouting, the drinking, the partying, it’s not out of spite?”

“Spite?” Grantaire chuckles. “No. Say rather, fear.”

He keeps talking, because of course he does, but it��s that word that Enjolras hears again and again in his head. Grantaire has no problem admitting to it. Words are easy for him.

And they are so difficult for Enjolras. Grantaire uses up more words in a single answer than he might in a whole day. He forces himself to ask, “fear of what?”

Grantaire wets his lips, but for the first time, it is he who is silent.

Oddly enough, he stays silent, every day.

The meetings pass with no laughter, no songs, until Enjolras begins to miss them. WIthout Grantaire’s noise, it is just his lecturing. Courfeyrac teases them with a hint he might be bringing a new friend soon, one that will be eager to learn more of the ABC’s politics, but until this mystery friend shows up, Enjolras is quite literally preaching to the choir.

“Grantaire!” he calls, then, suddenly, fixed with the strangest idea. He should have gone to bed earlier last night. Or at all. “Sing us a song.”

“What?”

“You have been so quiet, I think everyone has gone to sleep.”

The man tilts his head, and Enjolras fears that he’s gone too far.

There’s that word again. Fear.

But when Grantaire begins to sing, the fear slides away, melting like snow under the sunlight. It’s an old folk tune, nothing lewd, nothing crass. Enjolras finds himself following, a counterpoint melody. That’s what they are. Counterpoint. Bright and dark, noise and silence. And they cannot live without both.

Somehow, all the other Amis slink away, until it is only the two of them in the room. Singing. Neither too much noise, nor none at all. Just… peace. Harmony now,  voices blending.

More than voices too, as Grantaire opens his arms and Enjolras steps into them, letting himself be held for just one moment.

For just a little bit of eternity.

Finally, he whispers, “is there any way to have you only noisy at the right times?”

“Oh I can think of a few ways to shut me up,” Grantaire says, and Enjolras freezes. Blushes terribly.

Grantaire’s hand slides into his. “What I’d really like, is for you to make some noise.”

Enjolras knows he could laugh it off. It very well could be a dirty joke. But something in the way Grantaire’s hand feels in his own, warm, steady, real, suggests otherwise. “How?”

“Embrace your fear. Live your life.”

They’re simple words, but they resound within all the hollow spots inside him. “And you? Will you let me teach you peace?”

Grantaire smiles. His free hand, fingers stained with paint, brushes through Enjolras’s golden hair. “You already have. I’m just a terrible student.”

They kiss, and it is the loudest soft noise that has ever sounded within that room. Two hearts, both calling out, now beating in time with each other.

[notarelationship]

Klaine Advent 2017

(Yes I am still catching up…and I do know it’s August ‘18. Have to finish this before the next one, right?)

Day 21 - Variation

Summary: Blaine is new at McKinley. Kurt finds him interesting. Nerd!Blaine/Skank!Kurt

Word Count: 1218

I will be putting this up on AO3 after the advent is over after I finish them up, and I can fix up some spelling and syntax errors

find the rest of them here

--

“Why did he leave that in my locker?”

Kurt had convinced Blaine to skip their next class after finding the note, and they were out under the bleachers leaning against the fence. Kurt really just wanted to find Karofsky and break his nose.

“Obviously he knows I care a lot more about what he’ll do to you than to me.” Kurt was flipping an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He wanted to light it, but he’d told Blaine he’d stop, and that even if he had a craving he wouldn’t do it around Blaine. But it really seemed like now was a good time for a cigarette. “And if he put it in my locker it’d be a week at least before I found it.” Kurt snapped the cigarette in half and threw it on the ground.

“He isn’t going to kill me Kurt, he just wants to threaten us, keep us scared. Like bullies always do. It’s just another variation on the same theme.” Blaine looked right at Kurt when he said this, and Kurt knew he was pretending not to be terrified.  Kurt also knew that he was. “I’m not going to sit back and wait for someone to jump me in a parking lot.” Blaine crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. Kurt’s heart ached. “Not again.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, nodding as he stepped closer. He put his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, squeezing them before moving them to cup Blaine’s face and pulling him into a kiss. He didn’t mean for it to go anywhere, he just wanted Blaine to know that he would be there, that he was with him no matter what he wanted.

But Blaine sighed into the kiss, and Kurt could feel the tension drain out of his body as he untangled his arms and wrapped them around Kurt’s waist. “Kurt.”

“Hey,” Kurt pulled away, just enough for a breath between them. “Are you okay?” Blaine’s eyes were shut tight, and Kurt didn’t want to notice the tears trying to escape the corners. “Do you want to get out of here?” Blaine shook his head, sucking a gasping breath before finally blinking his eyes open with a long exhale.

“I have to go to class, and glee - I can’t miss it.” Blaine sniffled a little and Kurt offered up his sleeve for Blaine to wipe his nose. “Oh god.” He choked out a laugh. “That’s gross Kurt,” he said before pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “How did I not know you carried a handkerchief?”

Blaine finished wiping his face, then folded the handkerchief neatly and slipped it back into his front pocket. “There are a lot of things we still don’t really know about each other.”

Kurt supposed that was true, but he knew important things about Blaine already. He shrugged. “We’ll just have to spend more time together then.”

“Okay.” Blaine almost smiled, nodding. “I really should get to class now. I’ll have to get all my assignments from Tina.”

“I guess if you really want to do all that homework.”

“I do, and you can do it with me. While we’re spending time together,” Blaine teased.

Kurt pretended to scoff, but it didn’t sound like such a bad deal to him, really. But there was one thing he still needed to know.

“Before we get out of here: do you want to report the note?” Kurt wasn’t ready to out Karofsky, but he’d do it before he let Blaine get hurt.

Blaine shook his head once. “No, not unless he touches you again.”

“Blaine I can take care of mys—“

“No Kurt — I mean, I know you can. But what he did? That’s not okay.” Blaine was getting worked up again; Kurt would agree to anything right now to keep him calm. “If it happens again we tell someone, even if it’s only your dad. Please Kurt.”

Kurt took a minute, but he agreed.

—

“What are you doing here?” Tina practically accosted Blaine when he walked into the choir room. “Didn’t Kurt take you home? I told the nurse you went home. She was pretty angry that you didn’t wait for her to sign you out.”

Blaine knew she was worried, but he really didn’t need Tina’s judgment. Rachel sat next to him, her face radiating put-on concern. He didn’t need Rachel’s judgment either.

“Blaine what happened?” Rachel sat next to him, looking into his eyes as if she could see his entire morning.

“Nothing.” He really didn’t want to talk to Rachel about it. “And I’m fine Tina. It’s just a bruise.” He lifted his arm over his head to prove it didn’t hurt. It took a lot of effort not to wince.

“Karofsky shoved him into a locker this morning - hard,” Tina answered.

“Someone say Karofsky?” Puck sauntered in and joined the conversation. “My car died this morning and giving that guy a beat down would do a lot to brighten my mood.”

“No, don’t - don’t do that, not on my account,” Blaine interjected. “He was just being his usual horrible self.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Puck continued. “It would make me feel great, helping you out would just be a bonus.” Puck held out a curled fist and Blaine obliged with an awkward bump, but he still didn’t want Puck to do anything. He was about to say as much to Puck when Mr. Shuester came in and they had to stop talking about it.

It turned out that they had to learn two new dance routines in one session, and the physical exertion helped Blaine clear his head, so by the time glee ended Blaine felt a lot better. Unfortunately he also felt sweaty and disgusting. If he took a shower now he could hang out with Kurt for a while without feeling gross or smelling bad.

“I think I’m going to hit she shower before I leave,” Blaine told Tina as they were walking out of the choir room. “I feel gross and if I wait until I get home I’ll just want to take a nap after and I won’t get any homework done.”

“Blaine! What if Karofsky finds you in there?”

Blaine could admit to himself he was a little concerned about that, but football practice didn’t end for at least another hour, and he’d be in and out in under fifteen minutes. He told Tina as much.

“I think we should wait for you,” Rachel offered. “In case someone needs to run and get help.”

“Thanks ladies, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Kurt peeled himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against, just a few yards ahead of them in the hall. Blaine bit his lip to hide a smile. “I can’t imagine he’d start something with both of us at the same time.”

“Quickie in the school locker room - very nice.” Puck wandered past them. “I’m definitely impressed.” He tossed a thumbs up as he kept walking. “Very risky.”

“Oh my god - we’re not -” Blaine sputtered, but Puck was already out of earshot. He looked at Tina, who was definitely not impressed. “We are not,” Blaine told her. Kurt snickered behind him. “Kurt!”

Kurt shrugged, clearly enjoying encouraging this stain on Blaine’s reputation. “If you say so,” he smirked.

[damnnjoon]

@rxnjuns has me thinking about nct dream aus and tbh...dream in an american high school (because idk how other countries’ school systems work...hell idk about schools outside of texas) ... let’s discuss

honestly i feel like they’d be friends in HS mainly because they’d all be in a lot of the same things? like academic groups/clubs and also electives (i think...i think i made them all NMSFs because i felt bad not doing so. what am i)

mark: senior, the one kid who’s in both band and orchestra and somehow in both the top band and top orchestra, swims (and is good at it... state level for three years in a row good) and tries to do track too but can’t attend half the meets because of swim, took 4 AP classes in 11th grade (would’ve taken more but his electives allow him no space) and decided to do that again in 12th because if anyone can handle that much academic, athletic, and musical pressure it’s him (he’s making solid As in his classes and the occasional high B), not in student council but is in the Rotary Interact and spends time in the summer overseas building schools, water tanks, wells, and other things, National Merit Finalist, constantly with donghyuck, works as a private lessons teacher in a music school, is applying to out of state schools as an english literature major but plans on staying in-state to save money before he can transfer out later 

renjun: junior, National Honor Society president, took cross country for two years and quit to focus on GPA/PSAT/SAT/ACT during crunch year, in the school choir, makes National Merit Semifinalist but his friends are more hype about it than he is (because he expected it - he works damn hard), in the art club, has 7 APs but handles them well - his only nonAP is choir, debate club, probably in the top 10, boxes on weekends at the Y to let off steam and take some time off for himself, is one of 3/7 who has a license (mark and hyuck are the other two - and jeno is working on his), prefers tea over coffee but likes starbucks’ muffins, doesn’t actually know what he wants to be in future, jaemin’s neighbor since kindergarten, likes to say that he’s “here for a good time not for a long time” but genuinely enjoys school and extracurriculars 

jeno: junior, StuCo president, plays varsity soccer but also wrestles (he’s only JV in wrestling as he’s more devoted to soccer), does the morning announcements everyday, needs glasses but doesn’t wear them - instead asks to sit up front or near the whiteboard in every class, violinist in the top orch, hangs out a lot with renjun and donghyuck and jaemin due to being in the same grade as them and tries his best to make time for mark and chenle and jisung, takes a solid 5 APs during junior year but vows to downscale that in 12th, has a permit but not a license yet because he started working on his permit late, a student ambassador (a person who shows new kids around the school), National Merit Semifinalist, member of the NHS, in art club and also spanish club... even though he isn’t in spanish, known for his smile, lifts weights alone in the school gym after school sometimes, likes science but is considering a double major in a STEM course and a humanities course, does HOSA

donghyuck: junior, has late arrival because he is tired (its the only reason he rushed to get his license - so he could drive himself to and from school), star forward on the varsity soccer team and does cross country in the beginning of the year to stay in shape, wishes he could play baseball because it seems cools and he likes the idea of hitting stuff with a bat, taking 5 APs, made National Merit Semifinalist on accident but is still glad, in National Spanish Honor Society and plans on making NHS in senior year, school’s broadcast head producer and scriptwriter (and....and director), in the choir and loves theater to where he auditions for the fall musical each year (and, of course, makes it...was the lead sophomore year and is the lead junior year as well), class clown type but only when there’s nothing actually going on in class, always volunteers or is volunteered for shit during pep rallies, debate club, plans on working at the local movie theater during the summer if only for the free popcorn, always driving jisung places and complaining about it

jaemin: junior, plays basketball of all sports, runs track during off season, goes to at least one game or match per sport per year (ex. a volleyball match, swim meet, etc.. he hits every sport every year), theater legend, another National Merit Semifinalist (he studied really hard with Mark, who’d made it in his junior year), yearbook editor, had jeno pierce his ears in seventh grade but never wears earrings, a little more laid back than his friends with 4 APs, but not by much because he’s in academic decathlon, has a redbull addiction, runs a famous meme page on instagram, posts aesthetic pictures on his main, has renjun drive him to pretty locations at ass thirty in the morning on sundays so he can get nice shots for instagram, plans on an athletic scholarship for college and knows he’ll get one, wants to major in biology (doctor!jaemin) but minor in photography

chenle: sophomore, already works at a fast food joint and steals fries on the daily, in the school choir and in theater, has a permit but never practices driving because he lives within walking distance of both his job and school, best friends with jisung since the beginning of time but nobody knows how they actually met (not even them), taking 3 APs because AP World History is required and because he genuinely enjoys AP Computer Science and because he somehow skipped a year of spanish and is in donghyuck’s AP spanish class, is in Rotary Interact, plans on joining yearbook or broadcast as a junior, has a tendency to call jeno at odd hours in the morning to talk about literally anything, is on the student council to make friends, isn’t sure if he wants to go into computers or into acting yet

jisung: sophomore, chenle’s best friend, family friends with donghyuck and always mooching rides off of him, in a dance crew outside of school and misses school sometimes for competitions, takes AP World History because its required but plans on starting the stress only in eleventh, hasn’t gotten his permit yet because he keeps forgetting, gets off campus phys. ed credits because of dance so only has 7 class periods a day instead of 8, skateboards everywhere within walking distance, has all of his friends’ schedules memorized but pretends like he doesn’t, goes to cross country practices but doesn’t participate in meets, does a bunch of UIL academics like UIL spelling and UIL biology, wants to take AP psych someday

[gilliansanderson]

If Ever There Is Tomorrow

previously: [1] [2] [AO3]

3. A Sailor Went To Sea

Summer 1960

Mulligan’s Pub is as greasy and Irish as it’s regulars. It happens to be the only bar open at 10 am on a Sunday and with his sailor’s uniform and bright orange hair, Bill Scully did not look out of place as he drops a quarter into the coin slot and flicks through the jukebox. Margret waits for him dutifully, sipping ginger ale and fanning away the heat with a coaster. Maggie doesn’t dance, she wouldn’t take his hand unless the song is perfect. The grin he shoots over his shoulder is smug, she arches her brow and tilts her head expectantly. A challenge, a dare, a show me what you’ve got. He shows her, and presses play.

Somewhere beyond the sea Somewhere waiting’ for me My lover stands on golden sands  And watches the ships that go sailing…

Something old, his grandmother’s ring. He’d kept it in his pocket for six months while he’d been out at sea. Katherine Scully had died at 83, a few days before he was to leave. She’d always liked that Margret, she had told him the last time they spoke as she pressed the warm golden band into his palm. The diamond was made of glass, but it gleamed like the beacon of a lighthouse on her finger, calling him back to their sticky table in the seedy, smoke-filled pub, calling him home. He crosses the room in far too many steps, tugs her gently out of her chair and into his arms, she tosses her head back as she laughs and he falls in love all over again.

…Somewhere beyond the sea She’s there watchin’ for me If I could fly like birds on high Then straight to her arms, I’d go sailing…

Something blue, her sapphire eyes. He’d fallen in love with them first, when he’d caught them as she sang in the church choir, she couldn’t carry a tune but sang the loudest all the same, she’d winked at him and he was done for. Every time he looked out on the ship’s deck, he was reminded of her. They had been wet and blue as the ocean as she stood waiting on the docks, searching the chaos of loved ones finding loved ones that misty morning. The first thing he did after setting foot on dry land was kiss her, the second was go down on one knee, the third was laugh through his tears as she’d tugged him up by the collar and told him “I’m not waiting a single second longer, sailor,”

“They had our song!” she beams; he pulls her ever closer, singing along softly in her ear, smirking as he feels the shiver run down her spine like a trickle of water.

…It’s far beyond a star It’s near beyond the moon I know beyond a doubt My heart will lead me there soon…

Something borrowed, her mother’s wedding dress, ivory lace. They’d practically ran to the courthouse, stopping only at her insistence, that at least something be done traditionally. They stole some roses from the garden and struggled to squeeze her into the dress, as modest and billowy as it was, it was still a tight fit. “Maggie, are you sure…?” he started to ask for the hundredth time, but she cut him off with a kiss.

“My parents were so incredibly angry; you have no idea.” She told him between painting her lips a heart-breaking shade of red and pinning a single white flower in her dark ebony curls. “I’m doing you a favour, buddy,”

Her parents were at mass, no doubt wondering where in hell their sinful young family shame could be. His arms had circled her waist, his fingers interlaced with hers and settle on her stomach.

Something new, so new it was still in the works. Six months, yet she was barely showing. Pressed against him as they dance; he feels his son kick. Bill, just once, wishes time could stand still, that he could live in this little vignette forever, but he knows that someday soon he’ll have to go back out to sea, and the song is quickly coming to an end.

“So what now?” his wife sighs against his neck,

“What now?” He echoes, brushing an errant curl behind her ear. He lets his fingers trail lazily along her jaw and tilts her chin to meet his gaze. She hasn’t stopped blushing since she’d said I do.

“How about the rest of our lives?” he grins and spins her one more time.

…We’ll meet beyond the shore We’ll kiss just like before Happy we’ll be beyond the sea And never again I’ll go sailing…

Spring 1980

Bill Scully Sr. could mark the day he’d started going grey, it was around the same time his youngest daughter had dyed the ends of her hair pink and gotten taken in for trespassing on prom night.

He rubbed the fatigue from his eyes as he pulled up at the Sherriff station at an ungodly hour. Dana was a smart teenager, smart enough to not run away but teenager enough to sneak into an abandoned property to go ghost hunting in the first place. She was with the Mulder kid. Of course she was.

It turns out the kids didn’t have to look that far, as in the darkened parking lot he finds a relentless spirit had come back to haunt him. Teena Mulder had not aged well, but he could hardly blame her. Her hair was more white than brown, the lines under her eyes were far too defined for someone her age. The woman he once knew had once been plucky and hopeful, but her expression now lacks any softness, he feels the swing coming and braces himself for the blow.

“They got themselves arrested,” she says in a tone as cool and cutting as a shard of ice.

“Oh, really?” he replies wearily, “Shit, it’s a good thing I always happen stop by the police station at four in the morning,”

“This is serious, Bill,” she frowns, and takes him back to 1973.

“They’re getting let off with a warning, Teena. They were stupid, but don’t make this into a bigger deal than it already is,”

“This is dicey and you know it,” she tears into a packet of cigarettes with her teeth, “I’m scared for them. I’m scared they’ll get each other hurt,”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead as if to soothe the pain that was ever growing in his temporal lobe, the putrid smell of smoke reminds him too much of days filled with shadowy parties and shady military men; in that moment he misses the salty sea air so much he feels sick.

“You want what’s best for them Teena? How about letting them be happy,” he says, because dammit they were happy. He’s never seen her daughter happier than after the boy came back into her life, he wasn’t strong enough to deal with the kind of heartbreak splitting them up would cause, the kind even a father’s love couldn’t soothe. “I won’t hurt her like that again,”

“It’s all fun and games now, but Fox is starting to get ideas about his sister, sooner or later Dana will get them too, you really want to take that risk?” Bill’s life was already full to the brim with small, forceful women, but none of them had ever quite infuriated him like this one. “Sometimes hurting someone is the best way to save them,”

“Is that how you justify what happened to Samantha?” The darkness had stained her green eyes black, they glimmer with unshed tears and he curses his big mouth. “No, I’m sorry… Look, I’m truly sorry about what your family went through Teena, but I’m never going to let it happen to mine.”

“This is bigger than you or I, Bill, it won’t end with us,” She shakes her head, her smile is bitter, mournful, grave, “Nobody lives forever, if you’re lucky you’ll die before your children, but after the fact, you can’t protect them,”

“Well then maybe you should quit smoking,” he replies and says a quick prayer for the boy as he storms into the building.

Her simple velvet gown is rumpled and bunched up to her knees as she rests her ratty white sneakers on her best friend’s lap, as what lingered of her inner tomboy had refused to wear heels. Their heads conspiringly close like they were the only two in the room. Mulder must have said something funny, as her laugh rings out like a bell throughout the bullpen. Bill’s anger gives way to pure adoration, and it pains him even more.

“A séance, Dana?” he says gruffly, alerting them to his presence, “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,”

The teenagers quickly spring apart and have the good sense to look embarrassed.

“Sir, I’m so sorry this was all my fault, honest…” Mulder starts.

“Shut up Mulder, you didn’t twist my arm,” Dana cuts him off.

He shoots the boy a look so stern it would have had his quivering in their lifejackets, and he wisely shut his mouth. His well-trained daughter marches up to him, front and centre with her head held high, “I’m sorry, Captain,” she says, the apology is guarded, but she clearly means it.

Bill surprises them all by pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Daddy?” her voice small and muffled against his chest, “You’re not mad?”

“I’m furious, Starbuck,” he pulls away, keeping his hands firmly on her little shoulders, God she was still so little, her look so tender. She’d always known exactly how to wind him around her finger. “You are in a world of trouble. But right now all I just want is to get you home,”

Dana falls asleep against the passenger window on the ride home, and he tries not to look at her and think about his old friend’s warning. She was his daughter; she was his miracle. But sooner or later, the God’s he had prayed to would come collect their debts.

Winter 1994

Children rebel, they disappoint. They keep secrets and talk back. They run away from home and never call except for birthdays. Ahab had been like any other parent; always wanting what was best for his kids, but his kids had other plans. Dana had raged against the machine the hardest, and did the most damage to his bank account, throwing away her medical degree to cut up corpses for the FBI. They’d each ranted and bickered and slammed doors until Scully had paid for the training herself and had lived off toast and canned soup for a year, until Maggie had reached the end of her rope, pouring water over the coals and talking the heated redheads to just agree to disagree.

Her work was put permanently on the backburner, the two of them avoided touching the subject like a tender wound. He awkwardly brings it up after the last at the last dinner they would ever share, and she should have taken that opportunity to tell him about Mulder, but the gesture feels hollow. If telling him about the bureau had been hard, telling about Mulder would have near impossible, so she just… never did.

It was just a passing moment, but the lost opportunity was gnawing at her. It was far too late, the black and white images on the TV blurring into grey. She decides she’ll call and tell him first thing in the morning, as she gives into her exhaustion and falls headfirst into a dream.

It’s so familiar it feels almost like a memory. She wanders down the endless white hall, tiled floor cold against her tiny bare feet. She hears someone shout behind her, booming footfalls gaining speed. They never catch her; she always wakes before they do. She tries to run all the same, but her legs are made of lead, this time she makes it to the corner and runs into a girl. A girl with long brown hair and terror in her bright green eyes, Hands grab her from all sides, and she wills her eyes to open.

Without warning, the walls start to twist and convulse before disappearing entirely. Suddenly she’s thirteen and her Sunday school teacher is dead in her yard. She’ kneeling beside him covered head to toe in sticky black blood, screaming.

Scout says the corpse, his blue lips part and flies swarm out, He’s going to be ok

His lifeless eyes bearing into her soul, but she can’t look away as the dead man begins to sing.

…Happy we’ll be beyond the sea

And never again I’ll go sailing…

The scene changes once more in a lightning flash, the earth is covered in white. Her teacher is gone, and Ahab is there instead, standing at the end of the garden, staring at the butter-yellow flowers pushing through the snow. She approaches carefully, but he doesn’t look up. Daffodil’s don’t grow in winter He mutters to the ground, They’re going to die

“Dad?” He turns like a broken animatronic, his eyes empty and glazed, but somewhere deep inside flickered a spark of recognition, and his face crumples.

I’m sorry, Starbuck, he rasps, like the words physically pain him, I’m sorry…  

“Daddy, you’re scaring me…” she places a hand on his arm, but pulls it away quickly with a gasp; he was as cold as ice, tears turning to frost on his cheeks. The sight is so profoundly wrong that it stops her in her tracks. In all her life, she’d never seen her daddy cry. Before she can reach out again the wind begins to swirl as harshly as a hurricane, turning him to snowflakes and blowing him away.

Scully never knew when she was having a nightmare until she was awake. Until it was too late. Until it wasn’t a dream anymore.

She wakes with a song in her head, opens her eyes and sees her father.

She sees him for the last time.

…No more, no more, No more sailing…

[niallsexyback]

See You Again - Riley’s Plan for Life

As the movie played on the television, Niall and I snacked on our popcorn as we watched. My feet in his lap as he rubbed my sock covered toes. The kids had all gone to their rooms for the evening, no longer wanting to spend time with their parents, which allowed Niall and I a nice movie night together.

Niall drank from his beer as Riley walked into the living room. He stood in front of us, nervously shuffling his feet. “Do you need something Riley?” I asked as I paused the movie.

“Are you and dad busy next Friday?”

“Is there anything on the schedule?” The schedule, the master schedule of all our lives. It was the only way we could keep track, with mine and Niall’s busy lives, on top of all the kids’ schedules. We needed it so we wouldn’t miss any events, and to keep me sane so I knew where everyone was at any time.

“No there’s nothing on it,” he answered.

“Well then we should be free. Do you have something?”

“Um yeah…at school that night there is going to be a talent show and I would like if you two would come and watch me.”

“Of course honey, we wouldn’t miss it. What are you going to do?”

He was hesitant. “I’m going to sing.” He had always had trouble when he chose to sing. Not because of his ability, he was a beautiful singer, but because of the comparison he always got. Almost every time, someone always had to mention Niall and it was really hard for Riley to live up to him. No matter how great it was, someone always compared him to Niall.

Niall spoke, “We’ll be cheering you on from the audience, wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Thanks dad. I’m going to go practice some more.” He quickly ran back up to his room. Niall relaxed back into the couch, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

I looked at Niall. “What?”

“Niall Horan I know how excited you are right now.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You have always dreamed of your kids wanting to perform like you. And this is the first time any of them are going out and performing on their own.” I continued to stare at him.

Finally he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Okay it’s great! I’ve always wanted one of my kids to love music as much as I do.”

“But just let him do it how he wants to. If he ask for help go ahead, but let him find himself on his own.”

“Yes dear.”

*

When Friday night came, Niall and I were seated in the third row right in the center. Niall’s knee bounced feverishly next to me. “Calm down Niall, its one song. He’ll do fine.”

“I remember the first time I ever performed in front of a large audience, I was a nervous wreck.”

“Look at you, you’re still a nervous wreck,” I joked.

“I just hope he practiced enough.”

“Niall he’s been locked in his room for the past week practicing. I’m sure he’ll do fine.”

We followed along with the program as kids showed off their various talents. From magic to jump rope. When Riley was next, neither of us could contain our excitement. When the last act was finished, they set up the stage for him. The person who had been in charge of rearranging the stage came out with two stools. Niall and I looked at each other, both confused. “Maybe there was a change in the order,” I commented.

I was wrong when Riley walked out with his guitar, followed by a girl. “Did you know it was a duet?” I asked Niall.

“No he never mentioned it.” We waited impatiently for them to begin.

The song began, both of us looked at each other. Not because we were shocked by Riley singing, but because of the song they had chosen to sing. It was a song Niall had wrote many years ago.

Once the song was finished, Niall turned to me, “Do you think I should tell them I wrote that song after spending two days in bed with you?” He asked with a smirk.

“NO!” I responded. “You should just be proud he sang one of your songs. You don’t need to tell him what it’s about. He probably doesn’t want to know that and if he did, he’d never sing another one of your songs for fear of what they are actually about. Why don’t we go find them?”

We found Riley and his partner standing backstage talking with some of the other contestants. “Oh Riley I’m so proud of you, you did so good!” I gushed before quickly running to him and pulling him into a hug.

“Mom!” He protested.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m just so happy. But why didn’t you tell us it was a duet?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“We were definitely surprised, that’s for sure.”

“It was very good Riley,” Niall added.

“Thanks dad. Are you okay that we used one of your songs?”

“I couldn’t be more proud of you. Would you like to know what’s it about?”

“Niall!” I warned.

“Oh never mind. Why don’t you introduce us to your partner?”

“Okay.” He led us towards the new girl.” “Mom, dad, this is McKayla.”

“Hi McKayla, we’re Riley’s parents,” I said introducing us.

“Of course, I’ve heard so much about you,” she mentioned, causing Riley to blush.

“How did the two of you meet and start performing together?”

“We were both in choir and we were the only two that played guitar so the teacher wanted us to perform together so here we are.”

“Well I thought it was amazing.”

“Thank you Mrs. Horan.”

“Just call me Erin sweetie, I’m not one for formality. And it makes me feel old when you call me that. Are you two planning on continuing to playing together?”

“We’ve talked about maybe playing at little things here or there around town.”

“Well if you need anywhere to practice, our house if always open.”

*

Over the next several weeks, McKayla was at our house more and more. To the point where I think she was spending more time at ours than her own but I couldn’t blame her. After she had told me about herself, I knew her story. When she was younger her family was in car accident that had killed her mother and older brother, leaving her with her father. To control the grief of his loss, he began to drink his pain away. Now he was the town drunk and left her to raise herself.

Despite of it all, she was such a kind girl. She had always said please and thank you and whenever we invited her to stay for supper, she was difficult to convince we were more than happy to have her.

On a couple of occasions I had even seen her helping Riley with his homework. He was never one to really care about his school work, but since meeting McKayla I noticed his grades slowly improving. I’m not sure if he was willing to study more because she was there, or if she was forcing him to study before they practiced. Whatever it was, I was happy because I no longer had to fight with him to get his homework done. But even with her good influence, we still had to punish Riley after he snuck out to party with his teammates on the soccer team, and they ending up causing some property damage.

*

“So McKayla, are you going to prom next weekend?” I asked one night when was over at our house while we were eating supper.

“No, we couldn’t afford a dress and even if we could everyone already has a date.” I knew she was embarrassed about her home life. They had moved several times because her dad couldn’t keep a job and didn’t pay rent so how would they afford a dress.

“We can help you, we will buy you a dress.”

“Oh I can’t possibly accept that.”

“You will, I don’t want to hear about it again. Every girl needs to go to her high school prom. We’ll go tomorrow after school and find you a dress.”

“But I still don’t have date,” she protested.

“Niall take Riley to get a tux tomorrow.”

“I thought I was grounded?” Riley asked. “I thought I couldn’t leave the house besides school for the rest of the year?”

“Yes and you still are, but I will make an exception so you can go to prom with McKayla. I know with her you won’t get into any trouble.”

“Okay.”

As we were getting ready for bed that night, Niall walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Momma you shouldn’t be meddling.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Riley, McKayla?”

“I have to because your son is too dense to realize she likes him.”

“How do you know McKayla likes Riley?”

“They only practice for like an hour when she’s over here, the rest of the time they are just hanging out. And she helps him with his homework.”

“Maybe she just wants to get away from her home life?”

“That might be part of it, but do you see how she looks at him? And you’ve had to help him with his homework, it’s not what a call a highlight to my evening.”

“What do you mean?” He really was clueless sometimes.

“It’s the same way I look at you. Even after all the stuff you do that pisses me off, I still look at you the same way because I love you. And she is looking at Riley the same way but he’s just like his father and doesn’t see it.”

“I love you too. Let’s go to bed, you can worry about Riley’s love life tomorrow.”

*

There were only a few weeks until the school year was over and Riley still hadn’t picked where he was going to go to college. He had been accepted into a couple of schools already but still hadn’t picked where he wanted to go.

“Riley honey have you thought about college anymore?” He was looking in the fridge for something to eat while I was cooking supper.

“Actually I have and I wanted to talk to you and dad about it.”

“Oh great! Niall come here,” I yelled to him.

“What?” He asked as he entered from the living room.

“Riley wants to talk to us about college.”

“What have you decided?” Niall asked.

“I’m not going to college.”

“What?!” I gasped.

“I know your mother and I always said we would support you no matter what, as long as you had a good reason so why aren’t you going to college?”

“You never went dad.” Riley explained.

“I don’t think I’m a good example you should follow,” Niall answered.

“No I want to play music like you.”

“Oh.”

“We want to move to London and try to make a career of playing like you did dad. Music is the thing that makes me the happiest. I would never enjoy college.”

“If that’s what you want to do than we will help you with whatever you need. If you want me to make some calls for you than I can?” Niall offered.

“No I want to do this on my own, I don’t want you to make calls because than everyone will think it’s you who got me into the industry.”

“Okay than, on your own.”

I’d been listening to their conversation but I had caught something that seemed strange. “Riley did you say we? Who is we?”

“Um McKayla and I. We learned we really like playing together and she wants to get away from here. And after listening to all dad’s stories, I wanted to have a group rather than go out on my own,” he explained.

“If that’s what you want to do than I’m all for it,” I encouraged. “Do you have a plan?”

“We were thinking once we graduate we’d move to London. From there we would start to play at local clubs and try and get our music out. We’ll each get a job so we can also make some money.”

“Do you have any idea how you’ll live?”

“Well we were wondering if we could stay in the London house? At least until we get going and have enough money to live on our own.”

“Of course you can baby. McKayla can stay in the spare room and you can have your old room. It will be good to have someone living in it again.”

“Thanks mom. I’m going to go call McKayla and tell her.” Riley hugged me before running upstairs to his room.

*

That night as we were getting ready for bed I stood looking out the window. “Mum your baby is going to be fine,” Niall said as he approached behind me.

“But he’s still my little boy, and now he’s going to move half way around the world.”

“Yes but he’s not going to move to a strange location. He’s spent a lot of time there and he’s going to be staying in our house.”

“I know but he’s still leaving me.”

I heard a slight chuckle behind me. “He’s not leaving you. He’s just moving. The same if he was going off to college like every other kid in the world. We can visit him whenever you like. You’re acting like his going off to war or something.” I still wasn’t happy. “And if you’d like I can have some of my friend check up on him from time to time.”

“Would you?” I quickly turned around to look at him.

“Of course babe.” His arms slide around me to pull me flush against him. “Over the last 18 years you have prepared him for this. He is going to be fine.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, he is going to do great.”

“Thank you Niall, you always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“That’s my job as a husband and dad. Chief supporter and encourager.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s get to bed, I’m tired.”

“You’re getting old, it’s barely ten and you already going to bed.”

“I mean we could always have some fun first. I’d be game for that.”

“That’s the Niall I know.”

Finally!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get something posted. I hope to write more again. Let me know what you think.

[rabbitwrite]

Highschool AU! Kihyun

Highschool AU for the other members ;

Shownu / Wonho / Minhyuk / Kihyun / Hyungwon / Jooheon / I.M

Certified smartkid™, also known as the smartass of his classes among his peers

Leader of the chess club, actively promotes it by making posters and participating in morning announcements for 2 seconds just to yell “JOIN CHESS CLUB”

Says “checkmate” as if it’s his signature catchphrase, pushing up his glasses ever so slightly as he flashes his opponent a smug grin

Speaking of glasses, he probably has specks without lenses in them

Also an avid choir member, sings at every opportunity

Lowkey athletic, extremely competitive! Plays sports such as badminton and volleyball

Stresses about the rules of sports and will enforce them at any given opportunity, basically a player / referee

Expresses the importance of yelling “MINE!” to hit oncoming shots, but will go off at his teammate(s) if he misses (“Okay, but WHY DIDN’T YOU TRY AND GET THE BALL/BIRDIE”)

Actively participates in class discussions by always calling out and talking out of turn, when teachers tell him to be quiet he resorts to raising his hand really aggressively and occasionally sings a high note to get teacher’s attention

Eagerly takes notes and makes them very neat, studyblr/studygram worthy but “he’s not about the social media life”

Always asks if the teacher has finished marking the tests, shouts out his results to the class and rushes to compare answers with everybody

Will demand for retakes, even if they’re super small quizzes

Organized 1000%, everything is super neat and tidy and he makes sure to maintain with that order

Anyone who tampers with his organization regrets it

He has a huge stash of extra school supplies in his bag and locker to distribute

“You owe me for this,” he would say as he gives someone some paper

Holds you to your word, if you want to have something he says you have to earn it, but if you borrow something he makes sure you return it

Keeps track of who borrows his stuff and doesn’t return it, lowkey says that there’s intrest for every week someone doesn’t return it but he never gets “payed back”

Prints out extra copies of his notes to make profit out of, he actually makes good money out of selling them because they’re so helpful and eye pleasing

Very picky about helping people with their homework, doesn’t like to give answers and certain people (Changkyun, for instance) are in “major debt” for all the answers they steal / homework they copy

“Make sure to change it up a little so the teacher doesn’t notice”

Has respect for people who choose to approach him during lunch hours where he’s at the library, and he’ll gladly tutor them for the period

Speaking of the library, he’s practically another librarian because he helps organize things, knows where everything goes, and nags at people who eat or talk too loud

During finals week he tends to close off the resource room by blocking the entrance so he can study

Finals week is literally the only time you’ll ever see him messy, it’s like all hell breaks loose because suddenly his belongings lose order, he looks super sleep deprived with textbooks and papers and a cup of coffee in his hands as he runs through the halls yelling “MOVE PLEASE I NEED TO G O”

Has a few clips in his bag to keep his hair at bay when he’s working/studying, keeping it out of his face

He is also an avid drinker of strawberry milk and can often be found with a carton of it if he doesn’t have coffee

Dresses “proper” and “formal”, dress shirts and sweaters, his outfits are usually of a pale / pastel color scheme

Uses a shoulder bag instead of a backpack, has a couple of cute buttons and keychains

Brings laptop around and will type up most of his assignments, he usually types rather quick and aggressively (the opposite of when he uses his phone or ipad, his speed on a tap screen device is equivalent to a grandmother’s)

Choir is his first priority as an elective, but he also goes for Foods & Nutrition as well as Textiles

Goodie two shoes and only gets in trouble if a certain bunch of 6 boys drag him along with them or throw him under the bus

He always follows the rules except sometimes if he’s walking down the halls and there are classroom doors open he starts to sing and he disrupts the classes

Smiles and/or waves if he’s greeted in the halls, so long as his hands aren’t preoccupied with stuff or if he’s not focused on other things

[misspandalily]

update - PIVOT!

Thanks for the overwhelming support everyone! I am so glad you've enjoyed and stamped approval for this crossover - here's to a long tale of friendship!

On another note, I do acknowledge that these preliminary chapters are essentially slightly-edited carbon copies of the original 'Friends' episodes. I haven't fully grasped the characters yet, and I'm still tweaking storylines here and there so that I can match the Naruto characters with their respective counterparts. As a token of great appreciation for your patience, here is another chapter!

AO3 | FFN

The name Sakura Haruno conjures the image of a young girl, high school age, with pink hair that bounces down her shoulder blades and frames her delicate face like flower petals. The girl herself is elegant, rich, refined, with creamy skin that brings out her bright green eyes and soft lips that let out an angel choir when she laughs. The embodiment - the pinnacle - of perfection is Sakura Haruno.

Smart, sweet, sassy Sakura Haruno.

The last time Tenten had seen her old high school friend, she was jumping up and down in her gilded mansion and blushing and beaming at Sai - her then-boyfriend, the oral surgeon - and accepting a rose-gold watch he'd bought her.

About a week later, Tenten lugged three cardboard boxes carrying all her belongings into a small apartment in Brooklyn, hung the framed piece of paper declaring her business degree onto the cleanest wall, and set to work applying for any and every restaurant in the city that had openings for a chef. The irony was not lost on her. She'd done enough studying to make her parents proud for a lifetime, and then it'd been her turn to make herself happy for once. That meant staying away from the toxic, high-achieving environment she lovingly calls family and learning how to stand up on her own two feet.

Thus, four years' worth of late-night recipe-inventing, combined with her need to perfect and polish, hadn't been conducive to her friendship with Sakura, who by then was rumoured to have been engaged to Sai and on her way to marital bliss in Aruba, so they'd drifted apart.

"Sakura?" Tenten stands up from the couch, bewildered. The Harunos are known for being extravagantly rich, with their yacht parties and fancy specialist medical degrees. It is also known that Sakura does not spend much time (if at all) in plebeian restaurants like Ichiraku's when there are more luxuriant places to go - places with almas caviar topped with golden truffles that are served on quaint golden platters.

Sakura whips around when she hears her name being called, effectively sending several droplets of water into Neji's face, to which he sputters and grumpily excuses himself to go to the bathroom. "Tenten!" She shuffles over to their little corner, her white dress leaving behind a substantial trail of rainwater as she moves.

"Oh Kami," Tenten helps lift the veil off her head and places it on the table before quickly introducing Sakura to the sedentary company. The introductions are mostly friendly and enthused, the exception being Sasuke, who awkwardly hovers between hugging his long-time friend and giving her a(n attempt at a) comforting pat on the shoulder, and Neji, who is still absent. "So," Tenten continues when Sakura is wrapped in a warm towel by Ayame, "Are you going to tell us, or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids?"

Sakura's face falls into her hands. "I'm awful, Tennie, awful. There I was, at the wedding I've been planning for months - crystal chandeliers, glass swans, almas caviar," Sakura lets out a distressed noise while gesturing wildly with her hands, "And in this gorgeous dress. Then my mother comes into the room, just before Pachelbel's Canon's about to start, and she says - 'Sakura, I'd just like you to know that I'm proud of you for making the practical choice.'" Tenten rubs Sakura's back as she nods along, frowning. "And that's when I realised that maybe I don't want the practical choice. Maybe I want someone who cares about me and doesn't spend every second in an office. You know? Someone I love and who loves me back."

Divine being that he is, Neji chooses this moment to return from his bathroom hiatus. He pauses just before the seating area, taking in the sight before him: a sopping wet bride sprawled over his favourite seat on the couch and bawling her eyes out into a towel, his best friend patting said bride's back rhythmically, Lee and Naruto staring at each other awkwardly, and Sasuke Uchiha looking more attentive than he has in months.

He regards himself as someone with a strong sense of intuition, an insatiable thirst to be in the know-how of every how there is - because how else is he currently working himself up the ranks of Hyuga Enterprises? - and thus senses that something will change in their dynamic forever. That something being the bride.

Of course, he also isn't one to so ostentatiously predict the intricate dealings of Fate either, so he responds to his hypothesis by grabbing a chair, sitting down on it, and making his presence known. "Neji Hyuga." Sakura takes his outstretched hand and shakes it delicately.

"Sakura Haruno."

"Neji was my brother's senior and roommate in college - we met a few years back at Sasuke's graduation," Tenten fills in the blanks that Neji refuses to elaborate on. "So, what are you going to do now?"

Sakura blinks owlishly up at Tenten. Her green eyes take on a glint of guilt, mixed in with pleading. "Well, I was hoping I could stay with you for now? I know we've drifted apart but you're the only person I know who won't judge me for running away."

Touched as she is, Tenten also spends a significant deal of time around Neji, so her immediate response is cutting. "Who also wasn't invited to the wedding."

Sakura winces. "I was hoping that wouldn't be a problem."

"It's not," Tenten amends quickly, "I've been looking for a roommate anyway."

"Great!" The pinkette perks up and grabs Tenten's hands with her own, cold ones. "I'll help you out in any way I can until I get back on my feet - that's a promise."

Comfortingly, Tenten finds herself going back to her old ways with Sakura, the ones where idly chatting about inane topics for hours on end are simultaneously therapeutic and entertaining. She misses being around the girl she'd grown up with, even if they'd been a year apart and Sasuke had seen more of Sakura. What's more, she misses having a close, female friend.

Granted, these boys are all her best friends, but it's tiring to not have a girl to talk to when she's feeling particularly cranky a few days per month, or to gossip with while drinking red wine. And look, she drinks wine with Neji on a regular basis, because he's posh and only shares his specially-imported Sauvignon with her, but Neji's body is also 90% corporate jargon and 10% sarcasm whenever he's drunk and venting about his feelings - Tenten can only take so much saltiness!

Besides, if there's anyone who's happier to see Sakura come back into their lives than her, it's Sasuke, who's been harbouring a gargantuan crush on Sakura since junior year of Konoha High. When Sakura walks to the counter to order a bowl of ramen for 'comfort eating', she notices Sasuke's obvious increase in mood and smirks.

Her brother catches the pointed the look she sends his way and returns to his customary scowl. Tenten rolls her eyes, because please, he is that obvious to anyone whose name doesn't start with Sakura and end with Haruno.

She just hopes he'll gather up the guts to ask her out before he realises that girls like Sakura Haruno never wait around forever. When left to their own devices, they'll grow out of the trust-fund glamour coat that's been painted over them by their parents and learn to stand up for themselves. Girls like Sakura don't settle for less.

Tenten doubts that Sasuke will be able to spend the better portion of another decade pining over the same girl without acting on it again. She knows he's hurting from the sting of a rejection that's out of his control, but he's also annoyingly passive when the situation doesn't call for it. Her brother is the absolute worst at dating, even though he's blessed with the good looks of an Uchiha - it's not arrogance, it's confidence! - and genius-level intellect.

Hell, Lee is very much gay and he's still making more progress with Sakura just by walking up to her at the counter and offering his condolences for her cancelled marriage.

What Tenten still isn't in the stages of figuring out, however, is how she is going to cope with Sakura as a roommate. Girl-bonding there will be, she's pretty sure that Sakura has no idea how to do mundane things like laundry and cleaning. Or working, for that matter. Can she even help pay rent if she's not working?

Tenten isn't poor, by any means - she has a rich family who've been hinting at helping her with rent since she moved out, and she works a stable, well-paying job, and even though she's still somewhat underwater with paying off her student debt, her life is comfortable. Her life is sustainable, as long as Neji keeps sharing his wine with her and keeps Naruto away from her fridge when she's away.

She is an efficient, one-woman unit as is, and therein lies her problem (and also the reason why she never keeps a roommate for more than half a year).

Sakura returns with a bowl of ramen and Lee in tow, settling down in her former seat before gracelessly inhaling the entire bowl within five minutes. "What?" she catches the looks of amazement coming from the entire group. Naruto crashes to the ground and kneels prostrate before her.

"Teach me."