and that look in particular

felren13  asked:

okay, i was reading your cursed child snippets, and dreamt in that world last night. so the trio were at green grass manor and draco had to leave for some reason but didn't want the kids to think they were unsupervised, so he left an illusion subroutine that would go off when it was either too quiet or too loud, an image of him would walk casually into the room where suspicious activity was taking place, look around disapprovingly, sigh deeply and leave. thank you for these snippets!!!

That feels entirely plausible tbh. Like I could just see my cc au Malfoy sitting at his desk going “okay how do I keep them alive while they’re here. okay, so most of the shit we got into was because of sheer adult negligence. So I’ll just never leave. This is fine.”

But then there will be times he absolutely has to leave. Like the time Potter himself calls him up because they found a dark artefact in a London basement and Malfoy’s the only one with the extensive academic knowledge on the subject able to identify it (well that and his father, but Luscious Malfoy would rather die than help the Ministry so no one asks him) and Astoria *tells* him just to go, it’ll be *fine*. She’s sitting upright today, in a comfortable chair close to the fire, wand out as she works on something beautiful with silk thread. And it’s not that he doesn’t *trust* her–or his son’s reverence for his mother. It’s just that…well…it’d make him *feel* better if she’d let him seal the house and shut off the floo…except she won’t and he won’t distress her by asking, so he does the next best thing he can think of. Because if he can’t be here, then he can at least cast a sentinel that Looks like him to be seen around the place.

That this is technically blood magic and technically possibly not entirely legal is neither here nor there.

Until the day something does happen and it ends in a duel with Potter standing back to back with him, the smoking debris of the drawing room drifting down around him. When Potter spies the sentinel–guarding the children like it’s supposed to–Potter just turns to him, and with profound and heartfelt understanding says, “Honestly, same.”

And if you’ll permit me to say, the Dial Tone Au and Cursed Child Au are totally the same universe. And given Dudley’s presence in Harry’s life, and Malfoy’s enforced presence through his son, that absolutely 100% means Dudley and Malfoy meet more than once. Like at Christmas when the Malfoys find themselves invited to the Burrow for Boxing Day and Malfoy wants to decline, he really wants to decline like he has done for the last few years. But Potter insists (actually his wife does) and even Astoria seems to want to go (…it’s lonely here, he knows, both their families having abandoned them for being muggle supporters…) and Scorpius all but *begs* so Malfoy finds himself standing stiffly behind Astoria’s chair (and he can’t help but be thankful to the Weasley woman for the subtle ways she manages Astoria, the way her needs are met without alienating pity) by the fire in this cramped ramshackle house his son is so in love with, drink in hand as he listens to the two women compare the latest fashion in Witch Weekly as chaos reigns around them and…

“He’s a bit of a stuck up git, isn’t he?” Dudley murmurs, low enough not to be heard by anyone but Harry as the two cousins sit at the table peeling potatoes. Harry could have done this in seconds with his wand but Dudley always feels alienated when there’s nothing he can do to help with dinner, so they sit and peel and talk about nothing in particular.

Harry looks up, absently pushing his glasses back up his nose to regard Malfoy. He looks stiff and out of place, dressed all in black as usual, eyes focused on nothing as he stands over Astoria–almost like a sentinel on guard…until she reaches up with a pale thin hand and squeezes his, and he looks down clasping hers in his, listening to what she has to say with such utter devotion before turning his attention to Molly Weasley with a smile so full of warmth Harry barely recognizes him…

“Oh I dunno,” Harry says, throwing a sliced potato into the pot. “I think he’s trying.”

B always wondered what the numbers meant.

It seemed only natural that everyone else saw them too.  That is, until his small voice quipped after them one day and all he received in return were blank stares.  He felt different and strange after that.

He never spoke of them again.

But still… he wondered.

They were everywhere and held no meaning to him.  He tried not to look at them. 

But one night in particular, he couldn’t help but notice that A’s numbers were especially small.  Nearly ran out.

A, his best friend.  His brother in every sense of the word, save in blood.  The small, freckled boy with the bright eyes and the charming tooth gap.  The quiet, brilliant child with a laugh only B himself could genuinely initiate.

And how B loved to make him laugh.  When he wasn’t with B, A bore a timid countenance.  Almost frightened. 

B found him once, sitting and hugging his knees on the windowsill behind the heavy curtains.  He was crying.  When B climbed up to sit with him, A quickly wiped the tears from his red, round face.  B looked at him through strands of messy, black hair that always hung in his dark eyes.  They sat for a moment in awkward silence.  Then, B reached out and his long slender fingers closed around the especially small, freckled hand of his friend.  He candidly spoke only a few simple words and A’s tear-streaked face brightened into a toothy grin.

And that was B to A.  The carefree spirit to his small, burdened shoulders.  The wild laughter to his quiet reservation.

But the numbers kept getting smaller. 

And on that night- the night the numbers were smallest of all- A hugged B.  He held him close and whispered, “Thank you.“  And B tousled his friend’s hair and laughed as he always did and asked, "What for?"  But A didn’t answer.  He squeezed tightly one more time and turned to go into his room, shutting the door behind him.

And the next morning, Roger came and sat down slowly on B’s bedside.  He spoke softly and sadly.

And the numbers finally made sense.

I was really feelin’ some more Ahaztuta Vol’jin, to go along with yesterday’s Trollvember post that I made.

Here’s a rough look at his Peacock-Phoenix beast spirit, with this particular variety being the holy flames sort of phoenix. While I’ve not made it obvious here, Vol’jin would have just received a killing blow to his person. While trolls who have phoenixes for beast spirits can and sometimes do activate their beast spirit at will, they prefer to save it for the moment they are killed.

The phoenix beast spirit is one of the only beast spirits that will activate automatically upon the users death. This immediately brings the user back to life and well… powers them up considerably. The element of the phoenix usually coincides with the users most proficient magic. Since Vol’jin is a priest in this AU, his phoenix is Holy.

It doesn’t really look like a peacock but I WANTED TO GET IT DONE, SO HAVE THIS //THROWS IT AT YOU

If you want to know more about beast spirits, you can always ask me ; w ; /

Also yes I will one day do up actual proper drawings / refs of all my Vol’jin AUs I promise…. bonus: here’s the flat colors for this so you can actually… SEE WHAT COLORS THE PHOENIX IS HAHAHAH (hint: pastel version of Amita’s hair //BRICKED). Mostly wanted to post that so you could see what was going on with Vol’jin colorwise though ; w ;

anonymous asked:

Uhhh? You just? Ignored? Everyone? That? Called? you? Pretty?? Uhh, snap? Her™???

oh my god……i’m so so so sorry but i see my damn face every day at every angle and i look decent at one angle in particular lighting with make make-up on that doesn’t make me pretty,, she’s just so so beautiful and way out of my league i’ve just realised honestly

i’ve been seeing more annoying ass posts about how americans are treating bts and how they’d be so much better in europe, SO here are a few notes for you from your resident army of color:

  • regardless of where bts goes overseas, they’re going to face microaggressions and racism; this is especially true in countries where your dominant group is white
  • being a kpop idol doesn’t protect you from racism
  • it’s actually quite interesting how you guys are bitching about bts facing these microaggressions, but you’re awfully quiet when similar things happen to another person of color in your country
  • if a particular question bothers you because it’s racist, look at the interviewer
    • thus far, most of bts’ interviewers have been white
    • i can GUARANTEE you that if a korean-american were to conduct an interview with a kpop band, it’d go by pretty flawlessly
    • part of the problem is nationality/place of origin, but most of it is pretty much a white person asking a person of color weird questions/saying weird comments
  • also, this is what a lot of fans of color were saying before this whole thing happened, so there’s that
  • in short: it’s not purely an american thing. microaggressions are product of white supremacy and you not being american doesn’t absolve you of the problem.

anonymous asked:

Suggestion; Get lots of beads and attach them to your clothes with more brooches! Also maybe beads ON the brooches?

i have never in my ENTIRE life heard of a better idea!

brb putting togheter my cool new beads+necklace+brooches look:

[the source of this particular pic is from a blog here:  but this pic is clearly from a museum, most likely iron age gotland, sweden. but i can not find which musuem the pic is from. i have been suffering about this for days…..]

ps. there are more brooches on that pic than you might think on the first glance. those thing hanging out above the necklace? yup, some brooches.


She says, easily, so easily
           To not jokingly call her so pretty.

dear anyone who has ever made louis doubt himself,

i formally invite you to my house, where i’ll lull you into a false sense of security by offering you cheese and biscuits, only for you to choke when they fly back up into your throat when i whoop your ass within an inch of your life.

all the hate.


young evil xena dismounting horses is very interesting to me for some reason…

Inktober #1 The Old Man

I’m afraid of inking things because of the chance of ruining the whole thing, so decided to add ink here and there only. I am a little bit shocked atm because I have a feeling this is my first time drawing Ezio? How???

tbh, idk if its just me, but the gorillaz make me feel okay about having crooked, imperfect teeth