Please imagine the giddy giggling in Raizen’s impressive deep voice.
I would totally watch a whole show or read a whole series that is nothing but the adventures of these two getting in trouble in the human world before the barrier gets pulled up. Alas. Guess I’ll just have to find time to draw all the dumb stories I am imagining. (I actually have serious stories planned too… at some point…)
Peter and Gamora needed a babysitter so they called Yondu. Bad idea?. Also posted on Archive of Our Own.
“Where’s my little Therulian moonflower?” Yondu asked.
Baby Buttercup pushed herself up off the floor and waddled over to her grandfather, a huge smile on her face. Yondu chuckled as he picked her up, kissing her face.
“And look who Grampy brought? It’s Kraggles!” Yondu pointed to his first mate.
“Kraggles!” Buttercup reached for him. “Love Kraggles.”
Normally, Kraglin hated his nickname. But Buttercup was only three. A name like Kraglin was hard for her to say. Plus, she was just so adorable. Grinning, he took the baby from Yondu and gave her a kiss too. She gurgled cheerfully, clapping her hands. Two of her favorite people in the world were at her house!
“How you doing B-Cup?” Kraglin asked.
“I B-cup!” Buttercup declared.
“Yeah, that’s you,” Kraglin tapped her nose. “You ready for a fun weekend?”
This was new territory for Kraglin. Babysitting was a completely foreign concept to Ravagers. It was part of their code not to deal with children. Children were innocent and deserved a chance to find their own place in life. Peter had been an exception to this rule but it was still part of the code. Kraglin didn’t have much experience with children.
Things changed when Buttercup was adopted.
Yondu dragged Kraglin to Terra whenever he went for a visit. At first, Kraglin thought being around Buttercup was a bad idea. Kraglin had only dealt with Peter and he was eight when they had taken him from Earth. Buttercup was literally a baby. And Earth babies were so gosh darn fragile. What if he dropped her?
But slowly Kraglin found himself being a pretty decent uncle. Buttercup loved him. She would follow him around and she enjoyed sitting on his lap. When he was around, Buttercup would repeat ‘Kraggles’ constantly. Gamora said it was because she liked how the word sounded. Kraglin was a bit flattered but he wouldn’t let anyone know that. Ravagers didn’t get flattered. It wasn’t the Ravager way. But maybe it was the Kraglin way.
“Me and Uncle Kraggles are gonna watch you for a weekend!” Yondu told Buttercup.
“Yay!” Buttercup clapped her hands.
“Okay, so here is a list of all our emergency numbers,” Peter handed a list to Kraglin. “And here is an extra cell phone just in case your phone dies and you don’t have a charger. I also bought five extra EpiPens. Remember, Buttercup is allergic to walnuts. Peanuts are fine, walnuts are not. Now, here is her baby bag, some extra diapers, back up juice bottle—am I forgetting anything?”
“Darn boy, what do you not have?” Yondu asked.
Yondu thought Quill was a bit over prepared. A brand new cellphone? Plus, the baby bag felt super heavy. What was in it, rocks? Yondu opened it up and found it packed to the brim with baby things. Peter had bought three boxes of diapers, two new juice bottles, a plethora of baby clothes and a book on good parenting. Like Yondu had time to read.
“Did I forget anything?” Peter thought for a second. “Oh right! Buttercup sleeps on her stomach, she doesn’t like mushed up peas but she’ll eat carrots and make sure she doesn’t eat too many sweets.”
“Geez Pete, you’re acting as if you’re leaving forever,” Kraglin said. “It’s just a weekend.”
“This is the first time we have ever been away from Buttercup and a lot can happen in three days!” Peter said. “Oh, I just remembered! At night, lock all the locks on the door! Now I also bought Buttercup a brand new coat just in case.”
So I was looking through the four swords manga and I just noticed something about Green. He doesn’t seem to be all that great with telling directions. And to back this up I have two examples :
1- when he’s leading everyone to the castle, but not long after telling the others “we should see it when we cross the river” he says “we got lost trying to find the…” My best bet here is he was going to say Castle
And 2- this quote is from Blue, but it still has context “…But you can’t even read a map!”
Anyways the point is I think Green is not too good with directions
So Samstevebucky beard burn fic When? (not forcing you to write it, just asking generally lol)
Uhhhh at some point lol. There’s a chance it’s gonna be my fic for @samwilsonbirthdaybang (or will get pushed aside like everything else for the fic I do end up writing) so the best I got is from now- October 1st lmao sorry bud
I once heard of a mech who worse a visor and used echolocation to get around because his whole face had rusted off to the point you could see his cranial processor if he took the visor off. See right through to daylight on the back of his head because the rust had spread right around and caused gaping holes in his back too. When I say "I once heard of" I mean I heard it five minutes ago from him in your waiting room, he looks nasty. Good luck with *that* consult.
The day they start sending patients like that to the waiting room, presumably to sit in between the bot with a hand stuck up his own ventilation fan and the bot that’s sitting funny, is the day I walk out and into the waiting sunset.
Honestly I wonder if my depression swings had scared people away? It really hurt, I try my best but I come from a household that tried to drill into my head that crying is weakness and I have no right to be mad or depressed. My personal feelings aren’t as important as theirs so I lived and grew up to be rather callous and not able to blend into groups. I’m not really friendly or it comes off awkward
On another note I shouldn’t be surprised but also: if friends can’t accept your lowest point then can you really call them friends? I’m not the most outstanding or talented person to give a reason for people to stay, I yell on Tumblr which I should stop, but you have a right to block and leave and I never will ever attack anyone….but I guess….to everyone who remained and seen the ugly side of me you’re all amazing.
((Headcanon: Loki is terrified of the sound of thunder, and will generally remained curled up in bed with the blinds closed until the storm has passed.
Also, I believe at one point, when he and Thor were young, Loki touched his brother too soon after he had summoned lightning (before Thor was old enough to fully control it) and he tumbled backward from the shock he received.
Hello hello! So like I had mentioned in the two weeks of blackout, while I wasn’t posting any ML drawings, I did actually draw some. Though…admittedly not much, all things considered…ANYWAY.
Here are the doodles. Can’t actually remember what prompted the first one but the second one I drew thanks to a bunch of bad emotions at the time. The last one is from @siderealscribblings‘s Satisfaction Brought It Back (yes, I read that fic too because the writing and dialogue are so on point I couldn’t put it down even if *cough cough*..anyway moving on!)
I’ve also modified my watermark to include a “Do Not Repost or Re-upload” heading just in case it wasn’t clear to some of you (yes, some are doubled up with my old one but I just wanted to make sure :))
…I really like that last one, omg xD.
Anyway, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR RE-UPLOAD. AND also
*bites his lower lip as he comes up from behind you, groping your butt* “You know we don’t have to go out today.” *chuckles as he tenderly kisses the nape of your neck* “I kinda want to stay in now and spoil my little girl.~”
*seems to space out as your butt jiggles while you struggle to slip your jeans past your bum* “God damn it Jagi…” *purposely groans while adjusting himself* “Look at what you do to me, you drive me crazy babygirl.”
*watches you struggle from afar before coming up behind you, pulling your pants up* “I swear to god I fucking love your ass, princess.” *proceeds to give you one hard spank before massaging the area*
*carefully watches as you bounce up and down trying to put on your jeans* “Fuck me up, babe, you’re ass is so perfect.” “Come sit on Daddy’s lap princess.”
*automatically becomes overdramatic, gripping his chest as he falls to floor behind you; pointing at your backside* “Gah- Jagi, I have been attacked- I am severely injured. Your butt is just too much.”
You;*giggles* “Babe, get up.”
*watches you wiggle your hips as you pull on your jeans while biting his lower lip* “Babe, come here please.” *motions you to come over to him, his dark eyes watching as you make your way to where he is* *wraps his arms around your waist before running his hands over your butt* “My babygirl is just so fucking sexy.. I needed to touch you.”
*sits there, enjoying the little show you unintentionally put on for him* “Your bruises are started to fade, Jagi..” *moves directly behind you, hooking his fingers in your belt loops- pulling you down onto his lap* “Maybe we should stay home and make some new ones instead.”
dear eyes, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for thinking that the deep brown curious hue of your essence was every anything less than magical. i’m sorry that my entire life your every cell has worked to let me see the beauty in the world, and all I’ve ever done is put you down. and they say that you never know how beautiful brown eyes are until you’ve loved someone who has them, but I should’ve loved myself first. and for that I am sorry.
dear hair, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for every time I resented the way you refuse to stay put, for believing that the best way to love you was to tame you. i’m sorry for every time I drew hatred from your tangled tendencies, for every time I wanted to chop you down with an axe simply so that you were out of the way. you are the part of me that dances in the wind, the part of me that grows fiercely and unapologetically. and they say that if you love something you should leave it wild. i’m sorry for not leaving you wild.
dear breasts, i’m sorry. i’m sorry because you and I have fought a long, hard battle to get to where we are today. i’m sorry for all the times I wished you were bigger, smaller, less saggy, more perky, more even, less loud. you are the very essence of my womanhood, something that is fierce and tender and strong and brave and everything I take pride in. i’m so sorry I ever treated you like anything less.
dear shoulders, i’m sorry. i’m sorry that I hid you behind long sleeves and shame for all these years. i’m sorry that something as small and insignificant as acne could make me forget your worth. i’m sorry for every time i stood with you hunched over instead of standing tall with pride, because the scars that you carry are constellations, and you are as big and ethereal as the sky.
dear thighs, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for believing that you carried too much weight, that you were ever too large to be beautiful or sexy or wanted. you are a mountain landscape, protecting the valley inside with all your might and standing strong in the face of hurricanes. you are so much more than I ever gave you credit for, and I should have wanted you all along.
dear feet, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for thinking you are anything less than resilient. you have carried me to every point in my life, every up and down. you have picked me up from every failure and the depths of hell itself. you have never given up, even when I thought that I might. you have stepped on glass and walked through fire to get me to where I am today, and I am forever grateful.
dear tummy, I am so, so sorry. i am sorry and ashamed for all the nights I cried myself to sleep because I thought you were not good enough, I am sorry for every time I compared you, beat you down, sucked you in, tried to hide you. I am sorry for every single time I even considered starving you. you are where I felt the butterflies of my first love. you expand when my voice needs to be heard. you are the powerhouse that keeps me going, and I have treated you so, so, cruelly. i’m sorry.
dear voice, i am sorry. i am sorry for all the times I let myself buy into the preconceived notion that you are not worth listening to. i am sorry for every time i silenced you instead of letting you speak. i am sorry for not singing more, speaking louder, yelling, screaming. I am sorry that I ever thought I needed to hide you under my curtain of my fear of not being accepted. you are powerful, and brave, and worth listening to. you do not deserve to be caged, and I am sorry.
dear body, i am sorry. your every cell, every second of every minute of every day goes into keeping me alive. you have loved me so well and so deeply, and I have been so blind to your worth.
Surprisingly, it was easy for you
to lie yourself and to everyone around you. Flashing a smile anytime someone
around you asked you how you were doing. The layers of concealer under your
eyelids hiding more than the lack of sleep. You tried to keep yourself busying,
burying yourself under piles of books and notes to occupy your mind with
anything but Jungkook and how he wrinkled his nose when he smiled.
In a very
strange way you found solace in the amount of schoolwork that was piling up in
the pages of your planner. Exams, research papers, and presentations were
keeping you out of the house and inside the walls of the library. You were
regretting your schedule for this semester, but with the MCAT looming you
couldn’t afford to take any risks. Medical school was the light at the end of
the tunnel, and not even a bunny toothed boy was enough to keep you distracted.
however, had a problem with the fact that you should probably start paying rent
to the librarian. He missed you, constantly sending you reminders to eat and
drink water during the hours you were studying. You had regretted the night you
told him that you hadn’t eaten since 7 in the morning and 45 minutes later a
freckled teenager came into the library with the largest bag of Chinese takeout
you had ever seen. And your name was scribbled on the front.
Y/N 9:35 PM: Hobi, I appreciate the thought but can you please stop
sending me food while I am in the library.
Hoseok 9: 47 PM: I’ll stop sending you food when you actually sleep
in your bed, for once
you throw your phone back down on the table. He had a point. You hadn’t slept
underneath sheets in weeks. By the time you got home from school you were too
tired to make it your bedroom. Every morning waking up regretting the fact that
you had decided to buy the lumpiest couch known to man. You knew that this
wouldn’t last. That eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide behind the excuses
of academics to avoid having a life. You were going to burn out.
But two days later you found
yourself in the same position.
Lardo sighed. Immediately, Bitty set the ingredients on the counter and turned around, caretaker instincts on full alert.
‘Lardo? What is it?’
‘Humpf. I need to price my art, and it sucks,’ she mumbled, drawing a duckling on the margin of her list. ‘Needs to be done before the end of year expo, but honestly? I’d rather give the lot and don’t bother with money.’
‘Larissa Duan! You spent the entire semester on these! You can’t just give them away!’
‘… Yeah but I like making art.’
‘It’s still work! You should be paid for that effort! And all the money you spent on supplies- lord I can’t even imagine how much those gigantic canvases are. Weren’t you complaining about how expensive good paint is just the other day?’
‘Yeah, I guess so. So, you’re saying all good work deserves remuneration?’
‘So you should get paid for your jam.’
‘Wait what- no! Not me! This is completely different-’
‘Hm. I tried. Shits, your turn.’
At that same moment, Shitty enters the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of Falconers boxers and a black tshirt that belonged to Lardo, which fit him like a crop top. Bitty didn’t even know he was at Samwell that day.
‘Eric Bitty Bittleman The Second, tiny bro of my heart, maker of the pies, we need to talk.’
‘If this is about the jam, I already told the Falcs I didn’t want to be paid-’
‘I’m here to talk to you about market pricing, my man. There are other people, out there, working their asses off to make delicious jam, and they love doing it as much as you do. But those bros, bro, are actually depending on it to pay the rent. What you’re doing, here, is depreciating the value of jam, and convincing fans of said jam that they can have an product of excellent quality- for FREE! This is bad for business, Bits, this can even come back and bite you in the ass when you open a bakery. You don’t want to hurt future you and your fellow bakers, don’t you?’
Bitty stays silent for a moment, mouth wide open.
‘I- I didn’t think of it like that! I was just, you know, in the zone, you know how I get? And then there was all this jam, and I know the team would make a good effort, but they couldn’t seriously eat it all? But, I didn’t know it actually had an impact on the economy?’
‘Well, now that they know where to find delicious jam and baked goods for free, do you think the Falcs, their families and the SMH are going to get it elsewhere?’
Bitty bit his lip and looked at his hands.
‘I just wanted to make them happy. I love feeding people.’
‘And you can! You still can! I’m not saying you can’t make gifts once in a while or bake for your friends, I’m just saying there’s a line at some point.’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I know nothing about- about pricing! Lardo, how do you even manage with art?’
‘I use my resources, man,’ she said, snapping her fingers.
At that moment, Ransom and Holster barged into the kitchen, both carrying their laptops.
‘Boys? Were you all waiting in the hallway?’
‘No time for chitchat, Bits, time is money,’ says Holster, straddling a chair backwards in front of him. ‘We’re here to help.’
‘I got a spreadsheet here,’ says Ransom, sliding his laptop. ‘Compiling ingredient prices, electricity for the oven, mason jar prices, transport from Samwell to Providence and your work time, from the moment you went to buy those fruits until you closed your last mason jar.’
‘That- that is a lot of time.’
‘Wish I had that kind of concentration for studying law,’ grumbled Shitty.
‘It’s not all,’ continued Ransom. ‘This second sheet calculates the prices of similar products from spots around Samwell and Providence, from the Stop N’ Shop to the fancy little cafés and farmers market near Jack’s house.’
‘Wait, did Jack sent you those?’
‘Brah, Jack ASKED US to do this,’ said Holster with a roll of his eyes.
‘So, here are the prices of a single jam unit- counting the ingredients and the mason jar,’ said Ransom, before clicking on another Excel page, ‘and this is the price of each if one calculates the time worked, compared to what bakers and cooks make in those same cafés and suppliers.’
‘…I- I understand wanting to keep the market, and paying for the ingredients,’ hesitated Bitty, ‘but I’m still not sure I want to be paid to bake?’
‘I’m gonna give away every single one of my art pieces,’ said Lardo, doodling more ducklings.
‘… Alright, alright, I think I get it. I’ll just put the money in the Haus funds, since I took pretty much all of it to pay for the ingredients.’
‘You put back what you took and you keep the rest,’ said Shitty. ‘Do you really want to graduate without a cent in the bank and live off of Jack’s salary?’
‘What? No! Of course not!’
‘So start making dough, my boy. That future bakery won’t finance itself, you know.’
‘Also, people respect a product if they have to pay a reasonable price for it,’ commented Holster. ‘You don’t want to ruin your reputation from the get go. Honestly I’d suggest asking for more, since it’s also fucking delicious and a secret family recipe and organic shit people are crazy about, but we’ll work our way up there over the years.’
‘Here, I got the price per unit, what everyone bought listed hockey team, then alphabetically, the total, subtracting what was borrowed to the Sin Bin fund- that makes-’
‘GOOD LORD THAT’S MORE THAN FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS.’
‘Well, it WAS a shit ton of jam,’ shrugged Lardo.
‘And hard work, too,’ added Shitty. ‘So, do you accept?’
‘Well, I guess? Y’all make a lot of good points…’
‘Sweet,’ said Lardo, sending a text.
A moment later, Bitty’s cell phone vibrated with a message. His bank application signalled that someone transferred him funds-
‘How did Jack know exactly how much to send???’
‘Told ya, Bits, it was all his idea,’ said Shitty. ‘And the Falcs have been giving him money, even hiding it in the pockets of his hockey bag, to pay for their stuff. He just wanted to make sure you were on board with it.’
Bitty didn’t know what to feel about all this, he was still insecure about pricing his jam - and his pies, cookies, muffins and other pastries, if one was to believe Ransom’s other Excel spread sheet- but the reality was that he was now five thousand dollars closer to open his own bakery, someday.
but can you guys even imagine the Wild™ after party/yay-we-beat-riko’s-pathetic-ass celebration after the foxes win??
dan & matt have to go all out. they try to deck everything up in confetti & bright orange balloons. wymack’s got enough alcohol stacked up to power a vegas niterie. the only rule of thumb is to come dressed in orange.
but andrew’s group (with the exception of neil and nicky) still come dressed in black so it starts to look like a halloween party.
neil wears his orange proudly, & even lets allison paint a glittery little fox paw on his cheek.
everyone but andrew gets a fox paw. nobody is in the mood to get stabbed tonight.
nicky and kevin get super drunk & start to awfully sing “WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, NO TIME FOR LOSERS ‘CAUSE WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!“ with no melody whatsoever.
neil jokes that he’s going to leave the party deaf, but he’s all warm inside bc they did it, they actually did it, they won. and he’s home.
matt gets extra-lovey-dovey when he’s shitfaced & goes on a drunken rant about his love for dan and this broken team & how he’d happily take a bullet for everyone in the room. and to everyone’s surprise, he says that despite his questionable methods, he has andrew to thank for his sobriety. andrew doesn’t seem to react to this, but neil gives his shoulder a gentle assuring squeeze, one andrew doesn’t dispute.
matt & dan exchange promise rings. abby makes a congratulatory speech, nicky gets emotional & cries a little bit.
renee & allison dance together, renee is happy bc this is the first time after seth’s death that she’s seen allison look so elated even if sloshed. "this is his win, too,” she whispers later, at renee’s ear, “of course,” renee agrees. “once a fox, always a fox."
wymack makes a quick, thoughtless toast, "WE FINALLY SMOKED THOSE BITCHES!” the truth is he’s too speechless for words. this is why he does what he does, this is the pay off after years of being shunned, doubting himself & taking everyone’s shit. this is why his team, his good-for-nothing, nothing-to-lose team is going to make it to the big leagues.
kevin & wymack exchange an intense glance, & wymack silently vows to be the dad he’d never gotten to be & to make sure kevin never gets hurt again - not under his watch. kevin doesn’t know what to do with this new unkempt emotion burning in his chest, but he thinks he’s willing to find out.
all the vixens come ofc, & neil can’t help but notice how smiley & full of life aaron looks when he’s around katelyn. like he’s a completely different person to the one they know. everyone has to make a bit of an effort to keep kaitlyn out of andrew’s line of sight (by andrew’s own demand), but it feels worth it. when aaron catches him staring & meets his eyes, his smile drops but he doesn’t scowl & in neil’s book that’s an improvement.
bee comes to congratulate them all and whisks andrew to the side to talk to him in private, when andrew returns, he’s looking more at ease than neil has seen him since he got sober. that tension in his shoulders is gone, his expression is still numb but there’s a soft, fierce glow in his hazel eyes. neil thinks triumph looks good on him.
renee stays sober & tucks everyone into bed once they’re all too wasted to move on their own.
neil then lightly touches andrew’s arm, steering him away from all the chaos & silently thanks him for saving him from getting hit with that racquet.
andrew shrugs, “it only seems appropriate since i’ve already hit you with a racquet once and the results bored me. the noise you made was pretty unattractive. i didn’t see the point in reliving that again."
neil understands that this is andrew speak for "you’re welcome” & they ditch the rest of the party in favor of going up to the rooftop to smoke cigarettes and make out.
the night feels different, neil feels different. the future is bright & unnerving & large & stretched out in front of him but right now, he’s just content being at home, with andrew’s breath on his tongue & the distant chorus in his head of a thousand ravens fans swallowing their tongues.
Who is Chester? Everyone is talking about him but I have honestly never in my life heard of this person? Also what drove him to take his life? Does anyone know
Chester Bennington was the lead vocalist of one of the most famous and commercially successful then-nu metal bands in history, Linkin Park. You seem to be young because they were incredibly popular in the early 00s. While they remained successful, they aren’t as visible in the mainstream media anymore due to change of the music charts. Back then, nu metal, pop punk, and pop rock were highly popular and considered to be part of the mainstream. Nonetheless, many young adults connect Linkin Park to their teen years. You couldn’t listen to the radio (yes, radios were more commonly used less than 10 years ago) without coming across at least one Linkin Park song. Every Naruto AMV had a fucking Linkin Park song in the background, man. I am certain you are familiar with their most popular songs up to the present day, ‘In the End’ and ‘Numb.’ If not, ‘Crawling’ or ‘Breaking the Habit’ might be familiar to you by chance.
See, it was well-known among Linkin Park fans that Chester struggled with substance abuse. He was emotionally abused and molested by a childhood friend when he was around the age of seven. This abuse continued well into his pre-teen years since he was too afraid to speak up, meaning that he was constantly abused for six fucking years. I can’t even type this without crying, ugh. After that, he struggled with his parents’ divorce and with the fact that his dad was barely there for him to support him emotionally. It’s painful to know all of this and then, to listen to his songs where he expresses his emotions through his voice and lyrics. This song was released two hours before his death was announced.
Back to his psychological issues, Chester was suffering from depression. At one point, he reported being a full-blown alcoholic. However, it seemed as though he got better. According to the news, his friends and family (he left his six kids and wife behind) believed that he was in a stable place now. Unfortunately, they were wrong. Chester hanged himself yesterday. I still can’t believe it. He was 41 years old… His friend, Chris Cornell, who sadly died as well, hanged himself just two months before. Chris, like Chester, was a musician and member of the bands Soundgarden and Audioslave. You probably don’t know about them either, but they were pretty influential in the 90s and early 00s. See, the people around him noted that Chester was never the same after his friend killed himself. And on Chris’ birthday, Chester took his own life. This is fucking heartbreaking, I can’t even find words to describe how shocked I was. I truly thought it was fake news when my friend told me about his death. I’m glad that I had the opportunity to see Linkin Park in late 2014. Chester was alive and real.
Chester was such a loving soul, tremendously humble and down to earth. He helped many people with his songs. The way he delivered his feelings… so truthful and incredible. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, and he most certainly didn’t deserve to die, but I hope he finally found peace. I really hope that, I really do, and I’m crying again. May he rest in peace. Yesterday, we lost the voice of an entire generation, Chester Bennington.
Say My Name Ship: Demon!Jungkook | Reader Description: The demons aren’t just in your head. They’re also in your bed. But whatever you do, don’t say their name. Warning: Intercourse, Thigh Riding, Dirty Talk?, Slight Overstimulation Word Count: 3,081 A/N: Inspired from this FMV from this ask. Holy fucking shiiiit I thought I loved Sub!Kook more but now I’m conflicted even MORE.
*shoving him* Harry wake up! You're going to get in trouble!
*hissing loudly* Mate, really. The new teacher doesn't care who you are or what you've done!
*yawns and sniffles*
*using a Sonorous charm* WELL I THINK THAT'S TWENTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR.
Draco, at the opposite end of the room:
*sits straight up* What's Malfoy up to this time? He stayed in his room for hours last night and I ended up waiting until sunrise to follow him, but then all he did was go take a shower and wank!
*whispering* You--you watched him wank?
*irritably* Well, I have to know what he's up to, don't I?