bushy brown hair

Despite creating a huge multimillion dollar franchise, I don’t think JKR should be faulted as heavily for lack of racial diversity in Harry Potter as say, the Marvel execs or other Hollywood producers. Real talk, if I was 25 in 1990, and I was living in a county that was over 90% white english (check wikipedia), I probably wouldn’t have had to foresight to make one of my main characters a POC either. Ironically, as a child who read every book she could get her hands on, I remember thinking there was a lot more diversity than I was accustomed to in the books I read. I wanted to be beautiful like Cho Chang, I wanted to wear a butterfly in my hair like Parvati did, and Dean was one of my favorite characters because he liked soccer and liked to draw, like I did. I dont remember reading anything with as many interracial relationships as HP did. And what was cool was, they weren’t a big deal. She was able to normalize the races and sexes being equal, while still have equality/bigotry as a theme. Kingsley Shacklebolt becoming Minister for Magic is nbd. Pottermore says there was a female Prime Minister like, 170 years before there was a Muggleborn one. It’s true that it would’ve been great if there were bigger parts for POCs, and it’s a shame that the parts that were there were watered down in the films. But point is, before you criticize, remember where she came from. She had this idea 25 years ago; she didn’t know how many people this would reach, so I think she did fairly well, considering. Hermione may have been white, but she was a huge role model for me. A plain girl with bushy brown hair and buck teeth who liked to read too much- no where else could I find a character like that. It would’ve been fairly easy to make Hermione a beautiful self insert, but she didn’t. Additionally, her followup works have had wonderful POC characters, so it might be fair to say she’s more socially conscious now than she was at 25. Check them out. Lula Landry rules.

anonymous asked:

I was talking to someone about hp and we got into a little ish debate. I argued that it is perfectly possible that Hermione could be black whereas they said she just wasn't. Technically JK Rowling only described hermione as having "bushy brown hair" and "larger front teeth" and I don't think that's tied to a specific colour, despite that the movies show her as white. What do you think?

i think the person you’re talking to is racist considering that JK Rowling herself supports that headcanon, having liked many a piece of fanart ft. black Hermione on twitter, and having… y’know… cast a black woman as Hermione in the play

2

The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.
‘Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,’ she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.
‘We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,’ said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

Mr. Brown Eyes (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

This ended up being way longer than it was supposed to and I had to split it into two maybe three parts oops I’m sorry

Masterlist 

Request Queue

Free Requests

Warnings: head trauma, anger, teen pregnancy, and the 90s 

Request- “SO SINCE YOU DO BASICALLY ANYTHING can u write one with teenage lin and numbers 14 and 55?? thanks, i love your imagines”

14- “You did WHAT?”

55- “That’s it. End of discussion.”

A/N -(The first time I got this I misread the prompt with something about pregnancy but then I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here you go

This is only my like fourth time writing Lin I need to write him more)

Song- I Like It – We The Kings Spotify/Youtube

Words- 3,408

The way you’d met Lin had been perfectly imperfect. 

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anonymous asked:

In what way is Harry the right person for Ginny? I always got the feeling that he fell in love with her facade of coolness, not the real girl. (Also, he didn't learn anything from his disastrous relationship with Cho, which fell apart because Cho was in too much pain to be fun, and Harry was in too much pain to be considerate of anyone else's feelings.)

Here are some of the ways in which Ginny and Harry fit together: 

  • Humour: they enjoy the same kind of humour - dry, cutting and sarcastic. Also, since Ginny is one of the funnier characters of the series, Harry likes that, especially since he relies very much on humour to get him through difficult situations. Harry craves laughter and humour “But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need them much more than usual before long.” - Goblet of Fire, p.635. Which is part of the reason why Ginny is definitely a much better romantic companion - because she shares his sense of humour, which is very important in a romantic relationship. Also, look at the way they play off each other, particularly in the tattoo conversation. It is very natural and free flowing.
  • Physical attraction: I wrote about it above. Even when younger, Harry does take appearance of Ginny’s appearance. For example, to name just a few times where this happens, in CoS Ginny is “glowing like the setting sun” and she “blushes to the roots of her flaming hair”. She has “bright brown eyes”. Her hair is described as being “a long mane of red hair”. Even when Ginny is arguably being described neutrally, here in GoF, it’s an opposition to Hermione. In GoF, when Harry sees Hermione and Ginny coming down the stairs of the Burrow, Hermione is described as having “very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth” while Ginny is described as being “small and red-haired”. And the thing is, you do need physical attraction to spark off a romantic relationship. If you deny this you deny human nature. 
  • Love for Quidditch: It is something that they can bond very strongly over it as well as it definitely being alluded to more than a few times in the series (even in OotP, before their relationship begins). It is about the similar passion for the game.
  • Similar experiences with Voldemort: they do talk about it, particularly in OotP, HBP and DH. A few times, but still, what’s represented on-page is not necessarily the case off-page. Sure, one may look at these few conversations and say, that’s not a lot of conversation they’ve been having. But let’s put it this way: is every conversation between every single character in the books? Of course not. What we are debating about is why their characters fit together, not the way it was written. Also, linked to this of course one of the controversial moments of their relationship is when Harry’s break up with her in the end of HBP. But that just signals why they work so well together. Even if Ginny personally disagreed with the reasons for which he was doing it, she understood it and accepted it.
  • Anti-authoritarianism and individualism: their characters are anti-authoritarian, in contrast to someone like Hermione or to a lesser extent Ron. Both Harry and Ginny have a very individualist and anti-authoritarian streak, Harry from his time at the Dursleys, Ginny from the standards her family (particularly her brothers and her mother) push on her.

anonymous asked:

Any Billary anecdote you've heard or read about that you'd like to share?

Always! Here’s an excerpt from Webb Hubbell’s book, Friends in High Places (one of my favorite books on the Clintons, which I have revisited this week thanks to a reminder from a friendly anon). 

It describes Webb’s first encounter with a young Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham in Fayetteville in the summer of 1973, as they sat outdoors waiting to write the Arkansas bar. While I think some of his memory may be a bit fictionalized, and informed by what he came to see as the give-and-take of their marriage dynamic… I think it’s a sweet little excerpt, and I love the picture it paints:


        I’ll never forget my first image of Bill. We had filled our blue books for the morning session and had come outside for a break, even though the Little Rock humidity was enough to wilt us. There was a grassy area with big rocks that people congregated in, and that’s where Bill was holding court. He was tall and lean, with a bushy mop of dark brown hair that swooped down and covered his ears like he was wearing a helmet, and he was standing in the center of a circle of people who were listening to him talk.

I wasn’t close enough to hear what he was saying, but he seemed intense and charming at the same time. He would gesture with his hands, furrow his brow—and then he would cock his head and smile a kind of off-center smile that would make the people listening smile and laugh with him. He seemed to have them, his audience, and he could do anything he wanted with them. 

Hillary was sitting next to him on a big rock. She wasn’t listening to him; she was studying. He was talking; she was thinking. I remember she had frizzy hair and thick, round glasses, and she was wearing jeans and a light blue sweatshirt with the word YALE on the front of it. Under the wild hair and behind the glasses, there was something oddly attractive about her. She was quiet, and there was a power in that. 

At one point she reached over and gently tugged at Bill’s sleeve. She didn’t look up, didn’t implore—she simply tugged at his sleeve as if to say, ‘Okay, time to stop talking and start studying’. In a minute or so, he did just that. 

I was standing with a couple of friends. 

“Who is that?” I asked, nodding toward the boy with the bushy hair. 

One of my friends was Bobby Hargraves.

“That’s Bill Clinton,” he said. “He’s from Yale, he’s a Rhodes scholar, he’s going to go up to Fayetteville and teach. He’s brilliant.” 

“Who’s she?” I said, meaning the girl on the rock. Hargraves laughed. 

“Well,” he said. “The rumor is, she’s his brains.” 


Emma Watson’s a good actress, but it always bugged me that they would cast somebody who was so obviously blonde and NOT bushy-haired, when her brown, bushy hair is so prominently described in the books. As a nerdy kid with brown, bushy hair growing up, the Hermione of the books was one of the first fictional characters whom I truly identified with - as much because of her physical description as her awkwardness and nerdiness.

(graphic made by @panicoenlondres!)

Omega Pt 3

Season 2 Masterlist

Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 2,232

Warnings: Nudity

   Almost an hour had passed of detention. I was sitting with Stiles, both of us staring at the second hand on the clock as it ticked away the lost minutes of our valuable time. Stiles had a bored scowl on his face, and I was just bored. I drummed my fingers on the desktop, listening to the clicks of my nails on it.

   On the board, Harris had written ‘DETENTION’ to taunt us, and he sat at his desk with a small smile that wouldn’t go away. He enjoyed this too much for a normal human being.

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As a kid with super dark brown, incredibly curly/bushy hair, I was excited by the books’ description of Hermione’s looks. And super disappointed when I first saw that they cast a very clearly (to me) blonde girl as Hermione. (No shade on Emma Watson as an actress - the hair color thing was just incredibly disappointing for somebody who had been particularly excited over reading about a protagonist with bushy brown hair like me.)

anonymous asked:

cops/police au + zutara pls??? kthanksbyeandiloveyourwriting *flees*

sf;hsdglkad ur so CUTE bless u nonnie *blows u kisses*

————–

It’s been a long night so far. The moon is gone, most of the street is empty; the stores are still lit but most are as empty as the street. Zuko sits back with a quiet breath. He stretches his legs out as far as he can.

Beside him, Katara leans forward on the wheel to scan the area. The streetlight ahead of them casts her in a faint amber glow that makes her hair gleam. It could be worse - he could have been stuck with anyone else tonight. Zuko had asked to be assigned to the case dealing with his uncle’s tea shop and the consistent robberies happening in the last two weeks. Thankfully, the chief had put Katara on the case with him.

Zuko glances at her again. They hadn’t gotten along very well when she had first arrived at the precinct - had fought so often the chief had threatened to have them both relocated repeatedly. It hadn’t been until Zuko had recovered Katara’s missing necklace that things cooled off between them. They’ve become close since then.

He steals another glance and watches as she sits back with a sigh. Close enough for him to develop a stupid crush.

“Are you coming this weekend?” 

“Hm?”

Katara turns in her seat to face Zuko. “The retreat,” She prompts, “To Ember Island. Sokka wants to get everyone together, remember?” 

Zuko nods. “Right, right. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good!” Her smile is small but warm. “I love my brother, but sometimes he goes overboard with these trips of his.”

Zuko raises a brow. “I remember. That so called fishing trip hasn’t left my recent memory.”

Katara snickers and Zuko looks away with his own smile. Sokka had joined the police force around the same time that Zuko had; they’d hit it off pretty quickly. It had amused Sokka to no end that his little sister seemed to hate his buddy so much in her early days at their precinct. 

Movement up the street catches Zuko’s attention. He scoots forward in his seat and grabs the binoculars, holds them to his eyes. There’s no light on, but the door to Uncle’s shop is wide open. “Katara,” He says sharply, “The perpetrator is here.” 

“You don’t have to be so formal, you know.” She unlocks the doors, eyes trained on the tea shop. “Just say perp.”

Zuko moves the binoculars to roll his eyes at her. He returns his attention to the tea shop and watches with a frown.

It takes him by surprise to see a familiar mess of bushy brown hair. Swinging from his shoulder is a bag full of Agni knows what. He even has the stupid wheat stock hanging from his mouth.

“Um.” Zuko side eyes Katara. “It’s Jet.”

A loud groan explodes in the small space of their car. “Oh, La, are you kidding me?!” She huffs loudly and digs out her handcuffs, not even bothering for a weapon. They can handle Jet easily between the two of them. “Is it really him?”

“Yep. Looks like he’s heading for that weird group he hangs out with.” Zuko puts the binoculars away and cracks the door open. “Maybe if you get to him first he’ll come quietly. Isn’t that how your first date with him went?”

He jumps out of the car and swings the door shut just in time to dodge her swipe. Zuko takes off down the street, struggling to contain his laughter as Katara thunders after him, both in pursuit of him for his comments and of Jet for his crimes.

Playful Lessons - George Weasley x Reader (Request)

Request: “Can you do one with George Weasley, where like (Y/N) is dating George, and he’s like sliding his hand up her skirt and stuff in class, and then after they ditch dinner, and go do the ‘deed’. Thanks!”

Warning: Graphic Sex

——————————————

“I’m so bored.” you yawn, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Same here. As much as  I think he’s a cool guy, I could make this lesson so much more interesting than old Lupin here ever could.” George Weasley’s eyes lock onto your own, “For you, anyway.” he smirks as his hand disappears under the desk.

“George, please just bugger off! I’m supposed to be concentrating!” you giggle, flicking his hand away from your leg and straightening yourself up in your chair.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” he grins, propping his head up with his hand.

“George!” you hiss, trying not to laugh whilst looking around to make sure that nobody was listening.

“Can you two be quiet in the back please. There are others in this class that WANT to learn.” Lupin orders sternly.

Your cheeks redden as you realise you must have been talking loud enough for people to hear. George merely sniggers upon seeing your reaction.

“Calm down, Y/N. We won’t be the first, and certainly not the last 'amorous’ students at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah well, I don’t want people thinking of me like that, George.” you whisper shyly, not wanting to sound like too much of a killjoy.

“I seriously doubt anyone thinks of you like that Y/N,” George laughs incredulously before leaning closer to you, “I’m pretty sure anyone would be pretty damn shocked to discover what you’re really like in the bedroom.” he whispers, his finger now drawing circles into your knee.

“Oh really?” you croon.

“Like you need reminding.” he replies confidently.

Flashbacks of the night before come flooding into your mind’s eye, causing your body temperature to rise slightly as George strokes your inner thigh.

“You do remember last night, don’t you Y/N?” he asks, interrupting your explicit daydream.

“Mhm.” you answer, biting your lip in an attempt to contain yourself as George’s long fingers slowly travel up the soft skin of your inner thigh. Higher and higher. Closing your eyes, you remember how his tongue had made the same tantalising journey towards your sweet spot last night.

“Miss Y/L/N!?”

Professor Lupin’s voice snaps you out of your drunken-like reverie and your eyes spring open, only to find that the whole class’ eyes were on you.

You look to George for any sign of support but he’s already burrowed his head in his arms on the desk to try and hide his laughter.

'I’m glad you’re finding this funny!’ you rage, making a mental note to get him back later.  

“Professor?” you voice tentatively, feeling your face flame violently.

“Are you going to pay any attention in this lesson or are you too busy seemingly falling asleep?” Lupin barks.

“I’m sorry, Professor. It won’t hap-”

“That was my fault, Professor. I had her up most of the night last night with err.. homework.” George finally comes to your rescue.

“Are you not able to cope with your homework on your own, Mr. Weasley?” Lupin asks sarcastically.

“Oh, yes Professor. Just, this one in particular was just, so.. hard. I really, desperately needed a hand with it. She was just the right girl for the job you see.”

George was evidently trying to hide the growing smirk on his face throughout that sentence; knowing full well that you would be dying of embarrassment at the thought of what he was really telling your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“Right, well, we might as well wrap things up for today. Make sure you bring that essay in by the next lesson. And George – Don’t be keeping other pupils up with it either please.”

“Yes Professor.” George answers as you both get up and leave the classroom.

*****

“I can’t believe you!” you cry, trying to keep a straight face as you, Fred and George sat down in front of the fireplace in the almost empty Gryffindor common room.

“Why, what’s he done now?” Fred questions.

“Oh, nothing, it doesn’t matter.” you stutter, not wanting to relive the moment.

“Come on, spill the beans.” he presses.

“She loved it really.” George sniggers, winking in your direction.

“Oh! Jesus Christ. Too much information, I don’t want to know.” Fred exclaims in mock disgust.

“What’s that?” Ron enquires, sitting down on the hearth with Harry and Hermione.

“Nothing for your little baby ears, Ronnykins!” Fred jokes patronisingly.

“Bugger off! I’m not that much younger than you two you know.” Ron grunts, “Anyway, we’re going down to dinner. Are you three coming?”

“Might as well, nothing going on up here is there?” Fred replies, getting up from his seat and turning towards the portrait hole.

You begin getting up to follow the four of them but George discreetly grabs your wrist and pulls you back down beside him.

“Err, actually. Y/N isn’t feeling too well so I’m just going to stay up here with her. We might come down in a bit.” he lies as you shoot him a confused glance.

“Oh, what’s wrong Y/N?” Hermione asks, “Do you want me to take you up to the Hospital Wing?”

“No thank you, Hermione. I’ll be fine. It’s just a headache.” you stutter, realising how much of a bad liar you are compared to George.

“As long as you’re sure!” she smiles, her bushy brown hair bouncing after her as she turns to leave through the portrait hole.

“What was all that about?” you ask George once they had all left.

“Your innocence drives me mad, Y/N.” he whispers, placing himself roughly between your legs and kissing you deeply.

“Me? Innocent?” you ask angelically, biting on his lower lip.

George sniggers before nibbling on your neck and jawline.

You feel his strong arms wrapping around the back of your thighs as he pushes you up onto the chair arm. He lifts up your skirt whilst placing small kisses on the warm, soft skin of your thighs.

“Oh, George!” you moan, as he suddenly places his mouth over your sweet spot, breathing hot air onto your underwear.

He continues to tease you mercilessly, kissing and biting your clit ever so gently through the wettening fabric of your underwear as he grabs your behind, squeezing your curves roughly.

George moves slightly upwards, taking the hem of your underwear between his teeth and pulling them off slowly.

“Wow, babe. You’re so wet!” he exclaims at the sight of your dripping mound.

“Well you’ve been getting me all worked up since Dark Arts.” you blush, aware of how wet you’ve been all evening.

George smirks proudly before plunging a finger into your core.

“Ohh yeah!” you moan loudly, arching your back slightly as your body adjusted to his intrusion.

“You like that, Y/N?” he asks, as he continues to pound your throbbing walls with his middle finger.

“Mmm, yes!” you groan, grinding your clit into the palm of his hand.

“Do you want more?”

George had barely finished the question before you almost screamed your reply.

“Good girl.” he whispers huskily, lowering his mouth over your naked flesh and gliding his tongue up from your perineum to your clit before dipping his expert tongue inside you.  

Your body writhes underneath him as you grind yourself into his mouth. You feel a familiar knot growing in the depths of your stomach and you know that it won’t be long before you reach your climax. Your hands reach down, your fingers running through George’s flaming red hair, desperately trying to push his tongue deeper inside you.

Your legs begin to shudder and you throw your head back in pure pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut as George brings you ever closer to your orgasm.

“George! I’m going to cum!” you cry, wrapping your legs around his shoulders and clutching the chair arm tightly as the knot in your stomach explodes.

George continues to work on your womanhood, prolonging your rapture for as long as possible.

“Mmm, Y/N, you taste so good!” he moans, cleaning you up with his tongue before starting to unzip his tenting trousers.

“Oh no, no, no. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten what you did to me earlier!” you giggle, getting up and straightening your skirt.

George looks scandalised for a moment, but shrugs his shoulders nonetheless as he zips himself back up and pulls you into his arms.

“Shall we go down to dinner?” you ask contentedly.

“As long as you promise to sort me out later.” George jokes, looking down at his deflated manhood.

“I promise.” you smile, kissing him passionately before heading down to the Great Hall.

*****

You walked in to find Fred, Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting in their usual spot in the middle of the Gryffindor table.

“What took you two so long? There’s barely any food left.” Harry states, pouring you both a goblet of pumpkin juice.

“My head was splitting.” you lie, “I wanted to wait until it was a bit quieter down here.”

“Feeling any better?” Hermione enquires politely.

“Oh, much better thanks!” you smile, before shooting a knowing look at George who already had a grin on his face.

“Aren’t you hungry mate?” Fred asks George, looking at his twin brother’s almost empty plate.

“No, I’ve already eaten.” George replies with an air of self-satisfaction and a wink in your direction.

—————————–

Thanks for the request! Sorry it took so long, hope you like it! 

-N 

Quick sketch by me of black!hermione plus a little rant

When I was little my mum read me Harry Potter and I loved it. I especially loved Hermione because when I imagine her, I imagined someone like myself. She loved reading and school the same as I did, and as a little mixed race girl from London I saw myself in Hermione more and more through the description of her appearance.
Hermione will always be black to me because that’s how I saw her…when my-five year old-self imagined this young girl on the train to Hogwarts in the philosopher’s stone with lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth I saw a reflection of myself.
But that’s not how everyone sees her and people should be content with others perceptions…the fact that Rowling kept her race ambiguous is honestly one of the biggest blessings for me, as it finally allowed me to aspire to be like a character that I loved that wasn’t canonically white.

i.g: olives.leaf

#10

omg love you writing, your so awesome! could you do one about that love potion in hbp thatd be awesomer

*squishes your face* thank youuuuuuuuu!

***

Small explosions were nothing out of the ordinary at the Weasley home, especially when Fred and George were around. When they had still been at The Burrow full-time, Mrs. Weasley had found herself irritated with the noise until she had just learned to block it out. But now that the twins were back to visit, she was glad to hear the pops and bangs of invention. She’d missed her sons, truth be told, and they could all use a laugh now that the truth was out.

George opened the door a crack when he heard squealing from downstairs. “Wassat?” he murmured, looking up and down the stairs. Shrugging, he closed the door again. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Ginny had probably tripped over something.

“See anything?” Fred asked, looking up from a cauldron he was stirring. A golden glow lit his face from the depths of the cauldron, sending faint glittering light around the room that was already glowing different colors.

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