Ok so I know Ron was all like “thank goodness you inherited your mother’s brains” so now everyone’s sort of like “oh Rose Weasley she’s the girl and she’s smart so she’ll be just like Hermione.” and its like ok, that’s good BUT
what if she inherited her mothers brains but also inherited her fathers personality? So yes, she does know the counter curse that would easily take down that jerk of a 3 rd year that keeps picking on her BUT kicking him in the teeth is way more fun/effective. Or like she’s studying for a test and Albus is having a crap day so she just tosses her textbook in the air and is like “let’s play chess or sneak out or whatever.” And she ends up failing the test the next day but is all like “lol whatever I can make it up later” OR EVEN BETTER-
Scorpius: People keep picking on me because my dad was a Death Eater.
with all the heat witches worldwide have been getting during and after the february 24th mass binding spell, i figured making my own spell might spare me some of the counter cursing and christian praying that has been directed at the community. in addition, this is a blanket curse that not only includes donald trump and the trump administration, but is also directed at all trump supporters. also whats up with all that “act of self-defense” bullshit? in my view its time we go on the offensive. if ur interested, heres the curse i created in its entirety so that u may cast it. (note: this entire curse was made up completely on the spot with very little planning involved so, as with all spells, substitutions and changes are encouraged to customize the spell to ur situation, style, and needs.)
a binding agent (i used black thread)
5 white candles (color is for protection; i used tea lights)
an image of donald trump (i drew my own, since im out of printer ink ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
a bowl of water
something to light the candles
something to handle objects that are on fire (i used tongs)
a trash can
a decent amount of floor space
a dish/stand/burner which can hold both one of the white candles and the image of trump (i used the 3-cat essential oil burner pictured in the leftmost image above)
this curse involves fire and handling lit objects. be sure that u arent wearing long or baggy clothing, and that long hair is tied back. perform this spell away from flammable objects, pets, and children.
begin by setting up the candles as shown in the rightmost image above: 4 of them should surround u and the 5th should be placed just in front of u, in the dish/stand/burner if u are using one. next, cast a protective aura around urself. this can be a traditional circle, u can pray to a deity or deities, or u can do whatever specific thing u typically do to protect urself while cursing.
light the candles. if using a dish/stand/burner, place the image of trump in it, above where the candle is placed. if not, use the holding tool to carefully hold the image of trump above the flame of the 5th candle, without it catching fire. focus all ur hatred, anger, despair, and all other negative feelings toward trump, his administration, and his supporters at the image of trump. let it consume him.
after u feel sufficiently angry, wrap the image in the binding agent. lower it into the flame one of the outside candles. move it from that candle to the next, then the next, and then the final outer candle. dont stay in any one candle too long, as the image will burn quickly. place the image into the bowl of water, and forcefully command the following:
I curse you, Donald J. Trump. May your administration fall as quickly as it rose.
then, with increasing volume and force, utter the following:
You’re fired! You’re fired! You’re fired!
finally, extinguish each of the candles. i did this by dipping the tongs into the bowl of water, then using them to pinch out the wicks. wait for them to cool, then, one by one, toss each of them into the trash, except for the 5th candle. utter one line of the following with each candle you throw away:
One for Donald Trump, One for Mike Pence, One for Alex Jones, One for the Trump Administration,
lastly, gather all ur remaining rage and spit on the 5th candle. utter the following as u toss it in the trash:
And one for every last damned Trump supporter.
lift ur protection. the curse is complete.
final note: the wiccan threefold law doesnt apply to u unless u believe in it, same goes for bad karma. good luck and happy cursing! )o(
“Well lookie here.” Harley smiled, placing one arm around your shoulders and another on Chato’s. “What?” You asked. “Nothin’.” She shrugged. “You two just seemed real close.” She told you. “I’m not drunk enough to be having this conversation.” You stated and chugged the alcoholic beverage. Harley looked at you impressed, “Well, I’m just sayin’, you guys look kinda cute together.” She stated. “I need another drink.” You said and tried to hop over the counter failed, causing you to fall chest down on the counter.
“Nice ass.” Harley commented. “Thank, I do my squats.” You told her and heard Chato chuckle. “You need some help?” Harley asked. “Uh…no, I’m cool.” You told her, trying to stand up, but ended up falling to the other side of the counter. “Shit.” Chato cursed and quickly ran to see if you were okay.
You quickly stood up, brushing your mission suit “A–are you okay?” He asked. “Yeah, I think so.” You told him. “I mean, there’s no blood, so…I should be fine.” You stated and he nodded. “Well, I just gonna leave you two.” Harley smiled and gave you a wink before walking out the room.
Imagine during a massive battle, you end up sacrificing yourself to save Loki. However, instead of the thing killing you, it freezes you in rock, literally petrifying you. Loki, as well as the rest of the team, don’t know you’re still alive and aware of everything transpiring around you. When the science Bros fail to detect any sign of life, they assume you’re dead and opt to have the statue placed in a main area for a commemoration of your sacrifice.
Loki, however, the two of you long in love, doesn’t believe that you’re gone so suddenly and searches tirelessly for a counter curse, rightly assuming it’s a spell. Eventually he reaches the end of his wits, books failing him for what to do and just spends time with the statue. He pleads for you to return, tears falling on you as he embraces the statue, one last desperate attempt to get you to return. Slowly the statue melts in his arms, your normal self slowly returning as you’re able to share in the embrace, finally able to hold and kiss your love after so long.
Everyone seems to think that all the hidden corridors and moving staircases are intentional, because the founders were a bit insane (which is true). But what if most of it wasn’t intentional? What if it’s the cumulative result of generations of young witches and wizards learning magic and all the stray magic floating about?
Like, what if that one stair poor Neville keeps getting stuck in was the result of someone trying to pull a prank on their friend in 1824 and no one could figure out a counter curse? Or the moving staircases were the result of too many jinxes and missed spells and no one really knows why they move or when they started (but Hermione did find the first recorded instance of a moving staircase in 1532 in Hogwarts, a History)
I feel like all those quirks in the castle are much more the result of the school just being so saturated with magic and mischief that it’ll never be a remotely normal building again.
Request: I love your blog!!! Can you please write one where Fred and George never prank y/n so she gets worried that they don’t really like her but then George admits that it’s because he;s in love with her? Thank you!!
“You’re dead!” Katie screams as she starts chasing the twins around the common room. They had changed her hair into a fluorescent green,
“Calm down, calm down!” Fred cried out,
“It’ll be back to normal in a couple of weeks! George followed,
“A COUPLE OF WEEKS?!” Katie screeched.
The two twins laughed, but stopped when Katie started chasing them even faster, now with her wand raised.
George yelled the counter curse and her hair returned to its natural brown again. She gave them a smile mocking annoyance, knowing she had been tricked by the twins again, twice in one prank.
“You love us, Katie” they said in unison.
They never prank you like that, or at all for that matter. That day, everyone on the third floor were pranked; everyone except you…
While you were all walking to the library with Alice, Fred and George were slipping fake spiders into everyone’s pockets. When they saw you, however, all the did was say “Morning”, and proceeded to prank everyone else.
Most would consider themselves lucky to be out of harms way when it came to the Weasley Twins’ pranks, but you, however, felt excluded from everyone else. You had a thing for George, and wanted to be included in all the fun. Does he really dislike you that much that he doesn’t want to include you in all the fun?
“JESUS CHRIST!” Alice screams as she puts a spider out of her pocket, “THOSE BLOODY TWINS!”
You give a fake laughing try to get on with your studying, not wanting to think about how you’re the only one not in on all the fun.
Lying in bed that night, you thought to yourself, ‘I don’t need them to include me in pranks, I can have my own pranks!’, and you plan the perfect way to get to the bottom of why they didn’t like you.
—— Next morning ——
“Morning” Fred and George say together as they deliberately avoid exploding bubbles onto you.
“Do either of you want a hot chocolate?” You ask them politely, “it’s ruddy cold outside, perfect weather for a hot chocolate don’t you think? I was going to give one to Alice, but she’s not here so I thought one of you might like one,”
Last night you had snuck into Snape’s potion storeroom and taken a small bottle of Veritaserum.
“I’m alright, but I reckon Georgie here would love to have one with you” Fred says as he pats his brother on the back, grinning at him and leaving the two of you together.
You smile at George sweetly and hand him the mug of steaming drugged hot chocolate,
“Thank Y/n, that’s really sweet of you” George says before he brings the mug to his lips and starts to drink. You smile triumphantly, now knowing that George will tell you everything you wanted to know,
“This is great, Y/n” George says happily as he finishes the lot. you both sit on the couch, and you begin the interrogation,
“Why don’t you ever prank me?” you ask bluntly,
“Well as a matter of fact I actually really like you and I don’t want to make you upset if our pranks go too far” he said matter-of-factly. As soon as he realised what he said his eyes widened, his hands covering his mouth as his face turns pale,
“You what?” you ask in disbelief,
“I’ve liked you for a really long time now, so I asked Fred to not prank you so that you wouldn’t be annoyed or upset with me” he rambles, not being able to control his own words
Oh god, now you feel bad. Of course you’re ecstatic that George Weasley likes you back, but he didn’t want to say anything, but he had no choice.
“George, I really like you too…” you begin, “I thought you hated me, that’s why I used the Veritaserum, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have forced you to say anything”
George’s face started to look less panicked now, so he scooted closer to you on the couch and put an arm around you, seeing how guilty you felt,
“It’s alright Y/n, I probably wouldn’t have gained the balls to tell you anyway, Fred was already nagging me to say something because he gets annoyed about how much I talk about you but I don’t mean to be annoying I just find you really quite extraordinary and I didn’t think I’d have a shot with you and—“
You cut him off by kissing him, partially because you didn’t want to hear him ramble for much longer, and because your crush actually likes you back.
Fred, Lee, Alice and Katie all whistle and cheer for the two of you, before you pull away,
“Who knew you actually liked the git back” Fred laughed,
“Yeah, I’ve liked him since second year, he’s just really cute and funny and sweet and all that,” you admit, eyes wide and you r hands clasped over your mouth.
When you had kissed George, he must’ve still had a bit of Veritaserum on his lips, because now everyone was looking at you for your abrupt confession. George just smiled menacingly at you,
Request: Can you make a imagine where y/n is Harry’s sister and Ron is worried about her when the war of hogwarts starts and at the end Ron kisses her or something?
You hadn’t seen your brother or his friends in almost a year, and now that you had a battle had started. You hadn’t uttered more than a few words to them. In the midst of a duel with one of the Carrows, you had little chance to look for them. “Stupefy!” you yelled, not willing to resort to murder. Unfortunately, another nearby Death Eater quickly performed the counter-curse. As your opponent got to his feet, you spotted Ron approaching, fast. You realised that you weren’t the only to have realised this, as a loud cackle sounded in front of you. “Weasley!” Carrow jeered, raising his wand. You knew that you were out options. As Ron fumbled for his wand and the Death Eater relished the moment before his murder, you muttered some finalising words. “Avada Kedavra.” A blinding flash of green light, and he hit the floor. Ron looked shocked, as if he wasn’t quite sure where the spell had come from. Your eyes met, and suddenly reality closed in. You let out a raw sob, the realisation of what you had done too much. Ron was still in disbelief but, as a few of the surrounding Death Eaters had noticed their associate’s demise, broke into a run. He grabbed your hand as he passed and, cheeks wet with tears, you followed him.
What felt like hours later, but could only have been minutes, and after being dragged through fights between students, parents, elves, goblins, trolls and giants, you and Ron arrived in a deserted corridor. He didn’t let your hand go but, once he has caught his breath he thanked you. “What you did back there, I know I shouldn’t thank you for killing someone, but I would be dead, now if you hadn’t saved me. So thank you.” You smiled through your tears. “Of course I saved you Ron, I may not want to kill people but I was hardly going to let you die was I?”
He left you no time to think as he kissed your lips hungrily. You pulled him in closer, entangling your hands in his fiery hair. But all too soon you heard the sounds of war approaching. You broke apart, breathless. “Wait till Harry hears about this,” you half laugh, unable to suppress your worry. “Merlin’s Beard, Harry!” Ron gasped, your panic reflected in his eyes. “I need to find him.” “No,” you corrected him, taking his hand. “We need to find him. You and me, together.”
After team free will convinces the Grand Coven of witches to cast a counter curse to remove the Mark, the boys decided to take that beach vacation..which then turned into them taking on a more relaxed role in hunting- providing the information other, younger hunters would need to help people. If you asked Dean, he only agreed to take a step back to help ease Cas into humanity (because that’s what he is now, human, ever since he sacrificed his Grace to remove the Mark). If you asked Castiel, he was just happy to be with Dean. Dean hadn’t really grasped the fact that Cas was human until one unfortunate night when Cas thought it’d be a good idea to try out Chinese food from a hole in the wall joint just outside Lebanon. Cas spent that night curled around the toilet cursing in languages even Sam couldn’t pinpoint. That unfortunate experience did little to dissuade Castiel’s enjoyment of food. Such that when Sam started looking into taking classes at Wichita State, Cas’ interest in the culinary program was evident.
“You know if you took a few classes, you’d be able to figure out that pastry crust you’ve been struggling with,” Dean says over breakfast the morning after he came out of the shower to find Cas guiltily shoving the WSU pamphlets under his pillow. Cas’ hand stills where it’s kneading the dough for later, obviously thinking back on all the arguments Dean and Sam got into whenever Sam brought up schooling in the past. The silence goes on for so long Dean forces himself to speak again.
“I just want you to be happy Cas,” Dean mutters, examining the counter top. That gets Castiel’s attention. Wiping his hands off on a dish towel, Cas goes to Dean, tilting his face up so green eyes are forced to meet blue, thumbs brushing over full cheeks.
“I’m happy with you, Dean” Cas say as seriously as one may discuss a terminally ill relative. Dean curls into Cas’ body, slotting his face into Cas’ neck where he mutters something that sounds like “thought I said no chick flick moments,” causing Cas to chuckle.
A little over a month later, Castiel starts taking courses in the culinary program at WSU- Intro to Pastry Making quickly becoming his favorite. Castiel does well enough in the class and Dean is loving the surplus of desserts in the bunker as a result of Cas diligently bringing home any leftovers. As Cas prepares for his midterm, Dean jokingly asks if he is intentionally fattening him up when he realizes he’s eaten 5 pies in as many days and can no longer get his favorite pair of jeans past his thighs. At least, it’s only meant to be a joke until Cas doesn’t quite meet his eye. Dean doesn’t think much of it, even though some part of him does start noticing Cas’ insistence on Dean having second and third helpings at dinner every night.
taking the elevator instead of the stairs, three tiered birthday cakes and extra butter all become as common as Bourbon and rundown bars used to be. Sam, who hasn’t been immune to the softening stomach, really starts nagging Dean about his health, insisting on vegetables and low fat alternatives. Dean of course always brushes his concerns aside usually accompanied by patting Sam’s growing belly as he walks away whistling Pink Floyd’s The Happiest Days of Our Lives.
So yeah what if Dean had to buy some new clothes, most of his had holes or blood stains anyway. But when Dean realizes he’ll need to readjust his seat in Baby in order to fit behind the wheel, he resolves to talk to Castiel.
“I understand your concerns Sam,” Dean hears Cas say as he approaches his and Cas’ shared bedroom. “I suppose there’s still a part of me who takes comfort in providing for Dean.”
“Yeah Cas, I know, but if it’s at the detriment-”
“I know Sam,” Cas cuts him off. Sighing, Sam says,
“Look I get it. Hey, look at me. I do, okay? It’s like..” Dean can’t see the two of them, but he imagines Sam’s hands waving about as he tries to make sense of his thoughts. “It’s like.. physical proof that he finally has,”
“A home,” Cas supplies, almost too quietly for Dean to hear, or maybe it’s that Dean’s heart has picked up its pace, the blood rushing in his ears, that makes it hard to make out Cas’ words.
“Yeah,” Sam says, almost laughing, pulling Cas in to a hug, “a home.” There’s a slight pause where Dean figures he should sneak away before he hears Sam say, “You know I’m happy for you two right”.
That night at dinner, Dean eats every green item on his plate, only grumbling a little at how much cauliflower Cas piles on his plate and even takes seconds of the Shepard’s Pie because hey that has peas and carrots in it so it totally counts okay?
One thing I’ve noticed that people say to counter any critique of Cursed Child is ‘but it was a script, it’s much different from a novel, and it will seem different if you see it performed’.
The people who don’t like Cursed Child, or who point out things they don’t like, know that. They know the different between a script and a performed play, and a script and a novel. Their issues are with the plot itself, which wouldn’t change in the performance.
An example of this is: Cedric Diggory would not become a Death Eater. This is Cedric Diggory we’re talking about here. He wanted to hold a rematch for Quidditch because Harry fell off his broom because of the Dementors. He told Harry how to work out the egg clue because Harry told him about the dragons. He argued with Harry about who should take the Triwizard cup, insisting that Harry should take it. Cedric Diggory is an all round actual nice guy (as opposed to a Nice Guy). I just can’t possibly believe that he would be a Death Eater, no matter how humiliated he is.
But he is even in the performed play, so I don’t see why any difference between a performed play and written script holds any relevance.
It’s fine to have enjoyed it. But don’t write off any critique as ‘well seeing the play would be different from reading the script’ because that’s bullshit.
The problem with having the hots for someone (2/?)
I am overwhelmed of the attention this fic has gotten. It was actually meant to be a one shot, but I didn’t have time to write it all. That being said, this will now be a very short story, no more than 4 or 5 chapters.
This is still dedicated to the wonderful @kdanna03
Killian stood by the door of the
coffee shop that afternoon, his hand fisting nervously at his side as he shuffled
his feet. He cracked his neck to the side, his shoulders moving as he tried to
find himself in the new wardrobe he’d fashioned for himself. Emma had mentioned
his outfit was daunting her and he’d wanted to make her feel as comfortable as
She remembered him. Killian wasn’t
sure exactly what had happened, as the counter curse cast by Regina was
supposed to erase all of them from her memories. But she had a recollection of
him, of the events that have occurred between them. Or at least, some sort of
version of it.
His own mind drifted back to their
shared night, recalling it vividly as he closed his eyes in the same way he’d
done every day for the past year.