dumbledores beard

What’s in your bag beard - Albus Dumbledore Edition

Dumbledore: I heard there was this new trend at my school, that everyone shows what they’re carrying around every day. Since I am the headmaster, I thought I should join in.

Dumbledore: They taste like liquid Sugar.

Dumbledore: Let’s go on.

Dumbledore: Another thing that’s very important to me:

Dumbledore: Music can be quite useful to ease up a tense situation.
I want to introduce you to someone.

Dumbledore: Obviously, a school as big as Hogwarts needs a lot of money, so it’s always good to have a Niffler or two with you.
Let me look for more.

Dumbledore: What the fuck is this?

Dumbledore: How could I forget about this?!


Bonus:

Dumbledore: Baby shoes. Not at all for nostalgic reasons

Dumbledore: Look how tiny they are!



((OOC: Dumbledore out.
In the usual Sami-style I’m late to the party. But you know? Save the best for last ;) Luckily my thread will probably not be the last of this series
Anyway special thanks to @kapitan5o​ for having this amazing idea! And my admiration to everyone who did this so far, y’all were incredibly creative!
Now I’ll shut up))

Bubbles - Drabble

BUCKY BARNES X READER

Prompt: bubbles with Bucky.

A/N: This can be a 40s! Bucky or a Post-Recovery!Bucky. Requests are open. If you want to be tagged, tell me and I will arrenge it!

MASTERLIST


“Okay, I’m almost finished.”

“You sure? You don’t gotta hurry. It’s not like I can actually runaway,” Bucky chuckled.

You added the last details and leaned back to view your work with the necessary criticism. It was perfect.

You smiled at him. “Done.”

You bursted out laughing even before he handed you the small framed mirror. You were sat in the huge porcelain bathtub with Bucky. His hair and stubble were covered in bubbles and molded as a Mohawk and Santa’s beard, which took the better part of ten minutes to prepare but it was worth it and it was enough to make your day.

Until you saw yourself. He made your hair look like Marge Simpson’s and a Dumbledore beard with some strands from the bottom.

“Oh my God! How did you manage to do this?” you asked, grinning, your hand hovering over your hair, not touching it.

Bucky was recovering from laugher from the other side of the tub.

“A true magician never reveals their secrets,” he grinned at you.

You simply splashed some (a lot) water to him.


TAG LIST 

If you want to be tagged/removed, tell me and I will arrenge it!

@macacodebanana @lilasiannerd @ria132love @amistillmyself@shopwesteros@cassandras-musings @learisa @pacifikaproudaotearoa@janeschwartz1@buckyappreciationsociety @courtneychicken@jaybird6232@i-cant-believe-its-not-a-writer @explicitfandoms @myinnerinside

I just wanna know how Dumbledore eats with that beard. I bet he probably has so many problems trying to do crap with a beard that long, icing getting in it, spilling things, has he ever used a blow dryer and his beard got stuck in it? I dunno. But I bet he had facial hair difficulties. In fact his hair is long too, just problems with all that hair. It’s probably such a bitch to take care of it all, I would have cut my hair and beard by now.

Marauders and Social Media

James:

-instagram addict

-seriously, he takes pictures of everything

-(specifically Lily)

-constantly taking pictures of his friends

-in the most random of positions

-always has surprisingly good photos tho

-sirius once punches him in the face for taking a picture of him before he’s brushed his hair

-sirius is another star of his instagram since hes such a camera hog

-seriously, he has over a thousand pictures of hogwarts and his friends

Sirius:

-Runs a youtube channel

-and he loves it

-he posts whatever hes in the mood for

-but typically its makeup tutorials or prank videos

-once posted a prank he and james pulled on Mcgonagall

-they filled her office with soap

-she found them out and used the video for evidence

-to this day he brags that she follows his channel

-(Also, Remus makes a lot of appearances)

Remus:

-tumblr

-just tumblr! remus

-occasionallywrites random I hate the moon posts

-but mostly its just the most random shit ever

-three a.m posts about bodies basically being meat bags

-he tags everything as a stupid shitpost, but he has over ten thousand followers

-cause damn….

-his posts are funny

-non of the marauders know about it, until sirius accidentally finds it in their sixth year

-he never tells, because Remus might stop and they make him laugh

Peter:

-makes stupid twitter accounts

-seriously, he has multiple random ones

-has one devoted entirely to Ms. Norris

-its really weird, mostly blurry pictures of her

-and photoshopped pictures of Filch making out with her

-(pretty much everyone in Hogwarts follows that one)

-(Filch hates it)

-also has one devoted to Dumbledores beard

-and a muffin he found under james’s bed

-for some reason none of the marauders can figure out he gets his fair share of followers on every account, tho

Lily: (because yes shes a fucking marauder, thank you)

-snapchat goddess

-seriously, she has an amazing snapchat

-gorgeous pictures of nature

-incredibly aesthetically pleasing

-after she and james hook up, she makes a lot of stories about them

-also, she starts to use the doe ears filter a lot

-(wink, wink)

-posts a lot of selfies, and after she becomes friends with sirius make up tutorials

-seriously, they are the most amazing make up artists ever


Just, come on! I refuse to believe that in modern day aus, the marauders would ignore social media. They would rock it!

anonymous asked:

Voldemort's Patronus: Dumbledore's Beard. [Why can't I have one?] [Its the ONLY thing in the world that makes him happy]

yes hunny or Voldemort’s patronus: a nose xD

Home

Hey, so I know I’ve only posted Supernatural so far on here, but here’s a little Harry Potter thingy I threw together because I felt like it.

Young Sirius x Reader

Word Count: 2646

I’m sorry, I know that there’s someone already “fan casted” for young Sirius, but whenever I picture young Sirius, I will always picture Ian Somerhalder, so that is who I’m using. Oopsies.

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You were curled up in a small ball on a cream-colored chair in your bedroom, the one you had next to the window with the white curtains drawn shut, your knees tucked underneath you and a book laying across your legs. You were wearing a humungous long-sleeved Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt that fell about to your mid-thigh, as it had once belonged to your much taller than you and much more muscular than you boyfriend, before you “stole” it from him. (In reality, he was happy that you took it, seeing you wear his clothes was one of his favorite things in the world.)

  It had been a week since your sixth year of Hogwarts had ended, and now it was summertime. Three in the morning and sixty degrees outside. Just the way you liked it.

  However, you were internally panicking every second at the thought of the love of your life and what it must be like for him right now. While you were enjoying your summer with your lovely parents in your nice house with the pool in the backyard and your overly energetic ten-year-old dog, poor Sirius was stuck in a humungous gray, lifeless mansion, either in his room trying to avoid everyone, or being screamed at repeatedly for his “failures”. It made you tear up even thinking about anyone treating him like that. The fact that anyone could ever possibly think that your kind, incredibly handsome, strong, brave, (fairly) smart, funny, selfless, giggly, loving, cuddly, adorable boyfriend of three years and absolute best friend of six was a failure of any kind physically hurt you to think about.

  Slamming your book shut and leaning your head back on your chair, you squeezed your eyes closed, unable to think about anything else now other than Sirius. You thought about how much you wanted to be laying across him on the couch, your head resting on his chest and listening to the sound of his heartbeat, the crackling of the fireplace, and the occasional rumbling of his voice as he whispered something to you, running his fingers through your hair endlessly, completely content to just be laying there. You thought about how much you wanted to spend Christmas with him at Hogwarts again, you, Sirius, James, and Remus all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters James had purchased, Sirius’ sweater hugging him perfectly while you drowned in yours, the thick wool falling almost to your knees. Staying up in the common room with Sirius on Christmas Eve after the two of you had so excitedly been counting down for the last month, both of you wearing lopsided but adorable Santa and Mrs. Claus hats, laughing and giggling at random things until it hit midnight and the two of you discovered you had been cuddling under the mistletoe all night, gently kissing as it officially became Christmas Day. Completely losing it and laughing your asses off when James walked down the steps into the common room the second you split apart, dressed in a full Santa suit (including the massive, white, slightly Dumbledore-esque beard), with a giant red sack full of your presents thrown over his shoulder. How wide his eyes had gotten when he realized the two of you were still awake and him laughing a little before hesitantly walking backwards up the steps with a, “Ho? Ho? Ho?” You and Sirius losing it again before making your way up to his room and falling asleep in his arms with a smile on your face. Being woken up by Remus and James leaping onto your bed in their previously mentioned ugly Christmas sweaters, jumping up and down and screaming “MERRY CHRISTMAS, LOVEBIRDS!!!” All four of you running downstairs to open gifts, the only four students that had stayed over the holiday. Spending the day by the fire and listening to the record player and collection of records (old and new) that Sirius had somehow bought you, which was extra sweet knowing that it was a Muggle invention that he would have had to learn about and figure out and then spend a ton of money on, knowing how much you would love one. The record player that was now only a few feet away from you on a stand in your room after you had brought it home for the summer.

  You remembered playing Quidditch, a Chaser, until some random Slytherin you were playing against purposely threw a Bludger at your head and sent you toppling thirty feet straight down off your broomstick. How Sirius had zoomed to you the second you left the wooden stick, pushing with everything he had in him to get to you before you hit the ground, but failing to get there. You remembered being rushed to the hospital wing, how no matter how hard they tried to get him to go away, Sirius insisted that he was the first one to get to you on the field and he would be the last one to leave your side, that it was only fair as he followed like a lost puppy until you were in the hospital wing, his fingers intertwined with yours and body racked with sobs as he blamed himself for you getting hurt, convinced that he should have blocked the Bludger, caught you before you hit the ground, something, although there was nothing he could have done. You blacked out about three or four minutes after the fall, but you were told in private by James that he had been bawling, repeating “I’m sorry, I’m a terrible person and a worse boyfriend, I love you, I love you, please be okay, you can hate me if you want, sweetheart, but please be okay, I love you so much please” over and over again. The thought of it broke your heart. It had taken you a few months to remember everything that happened in the few minutes after you hit the ground, given that the hit had given you a concussion and three broken bones. Which, luckily Madam Pomfrey repaired in a week, but she highly recommended you stayed off the field the rest of the season, and you promised her that even if she hadn’t said something, there was no way Sirius would let you touch a broomstick any time before you were thirty. She had just smiled knowingly at you before saying, “I don’t think that boy’s left your side for a second the last week unless I told him he had to so I could do something. I’d be shocked if he’s eaten or gone to a single class since the game. You’ve got yourself a keeper, hon, you really do.”

  After the fall, you had spent the last twelve games of the season in the stands, all decked out in some sort of house t-shirt and your team varsity jacket or sweatshirt. Most of the time you would also put face paint on each cheek: a line of red on each, a line of gold on each. Sirius loved it, especially when you would put his number on one underneath the lines. The team wasn’t as good without you, not nearly, but the fact that you were right there for them, cheering them on from the sidelines, seemed to give them enough of a reason to push through and (barely) win the majority of the games.

  You remembered when you finally told each other how you felt and he begged asked you to be his. It was very early fourth year and James was so tired of hearing Sirius go on and on about you (as was Remus of hearing you go on and on about Sirius to him) that the two of them somehow convinced Sirius to just go for it and ask you to the Yule Ball. He had been so nervous approaching you, shaking and awkwardly holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers behind his back. “I, erm, I’ve kind of been slowly been writing this, um, big giant speech that I would eventually give you……erm, sort of for the last two years. And now I’m realizing that I’ve- um, forgotten, most of it and that, oh, god, I’m ruining this whole thing and- Y/N, you’re my best friend in this whole entire world. Don’t tell James. You’ve been there with me through everything, and I feel like I can tell you anything. I honestly, I don’t know how I would have made it through everything without you. I need you, Y/N. And as bad as I feel because I know there’s no way you’ll ever feel the same way, every time we hug or walk around together or you kiss my cheek or fall asleep against me or laugh or even just look at me- I guess I would say that, um, my heart, it just flies. I know I’m just embarrassing myself now and you probably just feel bad for me, I just, I think that- I think that you’re the greatest person in the world. You’re so beautiful and smart and funny and talented and kind and absolutely everything that I’m not. I’m in love with you. There, I finally said it out loud. I’m, um, I am in love with you, and I’m holding onto the tiniest chance that even after this shitty awful speech of mine that maybe you would be willing to, um, go with me? To the Yule Ball?” You remembered how he looked down at the ground, completely ashamed of himself for “ruining” everything, you standing there in shock until you stepped forward, lifted his head and said, “Sirius, I’ve been in love with you since first year,” and flung your arms around him. How he had laughed and spun you around, how as he put you down he cried, “Wait, so……is that a, a yes?!?” And how you replied, “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

  And you remembered the day you first met Sirius Black. The day that you, a confused, muggleborn eleven-year-old girl stumbled your way onto the huge train with gigantic eyes full of wonder. How you wandered from compartment to compartment, only to see that all of them were full………except for one. The one with the messy haired kid with dorky glasses and the (even then) handsome boy with ebony hair, fighting back and forth over some sort of sport team. How you had shyly slid the door open, despite your outgoing nature, and cautiously asked, “Can, um, can I sit in here with you two? All the other compartments are completely full.” How the handsome one had grinned at you, nodding his head as he quickly replied, “Yeah, definitely!” How the three of you sat together, laughing and joking and planning pranks, immediately hitting it off. You were instant friends. James and Sirius told you everything there was to know about the sorting ceremony, and how they were sure you would end up in Gryffindor, which they seemed to think was the best house by far. You remembered how close you and Sirius seemed to be after only a few minutes of talking, and how James had later told you that he could see it the second you stepped into their compartment.

  You sighed, standing up and walking across your room to put your book back on the shelf, when you heard a loud crash and a yelp from downstairs. You leaped what seemed to be five feet in the air at the sudden noise cutting through the silence, heart racing out of your chest as you swiped your wand off your dresser, just in case, and crept swiftly down the stairs and into the living room. Running into the room and flicking on the light switch in a second, you yelled, “Who’s there?!?” in an angry tone, only to see a familiar, tall figure in front of your fireplace.

  He turned to face you, black hair whipping around his head and an incredibly scared, vulnerable expression on his face that made your heart ache.

  “Sirius?” you breathed out, running towards him and falling into his arms, wrapping yours around him. Taking a step back, you looked up at him, seeing that his eyebrows were furrowed together and it looked like he was holding back tears.

  “Oh my god, are you okay? What are you doing here?” you sighed, relieved, heart still racing against your chest.

  “I couldn’t take it, Y/N. I was asleep and she came running into my room, o-out of nowhere. Screaming at me like a bloody banshee……I couldn’t take it. She just wouldn’t stop- everything I ever did………it hurt, but I was alright, I could deal with it. But then she started on you. I’ve got, erm, I’ve got pictures of you, pasted all over my walls. She- she called you a bloody mudblood. A fucking mudblood. I was j-just so angry. I lost it on her and I- I finally ran away. I did it. I didn’t know where else to go, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid- bloody stupid…”

  “Shhh shhh,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head into your shoulder, which he happily obliged to. “I am so glad you came here, and I am so glad that you finally left that place.” You could feel him shaking now, crying a little.

  “God,” he said, his voice broken and muffled by your shoulder. “Why am I crying? I’m happy to be out, I am. Why can’t I- I stop crying?”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just me, you can- you can cry,” you whispered. “I love you so much, and I swear it’ll be fine. You can stay here, we can share my room, we can visit James all the time- it’ll all be fine.”

  “Okay,” he paused to cough a little. “Okay.”

  He let out a shaky laugh before saying, “You know, I was in such a hurry to get out of there, I didn’t grab anything but my wand. I literally have no clothes or anything.”

  You laughed a little before responding, “I’ll go back to get all of your stuff tomorrow. I might also make a small stop to punch your mother in her ugly face, but…”

  He wrapped his arms tighter around you, kissing your neck as he buried his head in your shoulder again. “You would really do that?”

  “Punch your mother? Because, I mean, Sirius, after six years you know me well enough to know that I would totally…”

  “I mean go back there. To that awful place where they would hate you, just to get some stuff of mine?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  He pulled away, staring at you with slightly wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, his eyes quickly filling with love and a smirk growing on his face.

  “God, do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked seriously. You grinned at him right before he crashed his lips against yours. “You are actually the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.”

  “You’re in the top ten,” you said with a crooked smile.

  He raised his eyebrows as if challenging you. “I guess that means that over the next two and a half months that you’re stuck with me, I’m just gonna have to make my way to number one.”

  “You really think you can beat junk food?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows at you with a dorky smile before replying, “Trust me, I think this is a challenge I can win.”

  You laughed. “Someone’s feeling pretty ambitious.”

  “Well, if I can get you to somehow like my sorry ass, I can do just about anything.”

  “Fair enough.” You grinned at him before finally saying meaningfully, “I hope you know that you really are the most important thing in my life, Sirius.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Thank you, really, for letting me stay.”

  “Thank you for coming home.”

The Bachelorette Week Seven aka Game of Hometowns

Here’s What Happened Monday

  • Hometowns are a special Bachelor tradition wherein the Bachelorette visits her four remaining lovers in the towns they don’t necessarily still live in, care about, or want to remain in after The Bachelor grants them enough fame to finally move to LA. During Hometowns, the Bachelorette will get to meet family members ranging from nervous to disdainful to awkwardly overeager and stage the kinds of deep conversations that normal people don’t just spontaneously have. A beautiful tradition indeed.

Dead Eric’s Hometown – Baltimore, Maryland

  • Anticipating Rachel’s arrival, Dead Eric can’t help but crank some Monster Mash and dance off his excitement. She arrives, and the two hit the court to play some basketball in flowing button downs like a sporty Bachelorette Gap ad. Dead Eric’s living pal Ralph Corinnterupts the game to remind Rachel that Dead Eric has zero romantic capabilities but has always been good at school and smiling. Ralph is very proud of Dead Eric and very supportive of the pairing. Considering his timing, lavish praise, and total avoidance of the topic of death, I do believe Dead Eric hired this man.
  • Later, Dead Eric and Rachel arrive at his house and his entire family screams at once. Ironically, Dead Eric’s family is the most lively bunch of humans on earth. One such lively soul is Dead Eric’s aunt, who is a ray of damn sunshine. She and Rachel discuss Rachel’s role as the first black Bachelorette, and she’s supportive when Rachel says she’s doing her best. Auntie Eric really lights up when the discussion shifts to her nephew experiencing love, and seems to want that for him even though he is dead.
  • Dead Eric tells his family he likes Rachel because she likes church and PG13 movies. He also says that he vowed at an early age to make things different for himself, and will accept love if love is the reward for his struggles. It’s a beautiful sentiment from his warm, still-dead heart. Seizing the right moment, he tells Rachel he loves her.

Bryan’s Hometown – Miami, Florida

  • Rachel thinks that Miami is just like Bryan – sweaty, loud, and a little sleazy. Oh wait no, that’s just me. After a long day playing dominoes with old men and seeing places Pitbull raps about, Bryan sits Rachel down on a bench, talks about his mother, then sticks his entire tongue down Rachel’s throat.
  • Later, they arrive at Bryan’s house and are greeted by his family. Seeing his son with a woman that is not her, Bryan’s mom immediately weeps and downs her wine. If looks could kill, Rachel would disintegrate under mom’s steely glare. Or, since actions can kill, Bryan’s mom decides to tell Rachel directly that she will kill her.
  • After such a warm encounter with his family, Bryan tells Rachel he loves her, and consummates his love with a slobbery make out session.

Peter’s Hometown - Madison, Wisconsin

  • Peter takes Rachel to Madison, Wisconsin and buys her candy from a man in a corncob hat and tries to make her feel comfortable by showing her he has plenty of black friends.
  • Later, when they meet the family, Rachel’s ovaries all but explode seeing Peter play with his niece. His niece’s mother, Peter’s sister, tosses away her mom jeans and dons her sauciest leather jacket, torn black jeans, and a sweating cocktail for her fifteen seconds of fame. She was born to be the sister on Hometowns. Peter’s mother, however, is not as encouraging about their relationship as his sister. She tells Rachel she believes Peter will be ready for commitment, but possibly not marriage. This is blasphemy to Rachel, who drowns her sorrow in Spotted Cow and cheese curds in the limo ride home.

Dean’s Hometown – Aspen, Colorado (I think)

  • Dean laughs through the excruciating experience that is being in the town he hates with the family he hates and the camera crew that, by this point, he hates. He takes Rachel on an ATV ride in the hopes that one or both of them will perish in a fiery crash but neither does, and Dean’s obvious disappointment shows.
  • Dean hasn’t talked to his father in six years, and tries not to vomit on his suede shoes as he approaches his house. It is beyond clear that Dean wants nothing to do with exposing the deeply private past that hides behind that door, but they enter to find Dean’s family, including his father sporting purple robes, purple Crocs, and a Dumbledore beard. All the family members exchange hugs before Dean’s father invites the group to lay on the floor while he performs a gong song. Listening to the gong, Dean remembers watching a prison show where an inmate tries to bite his own tongue off and bleed to death, and thinks that would be nice right about now.
  • Later, when Dean and his father speak privately, Dean accuses him for abandoning him emotionally after the death of his mother. Dean’s father admits that, yes, he wasn’t there for Dean, and although this was Dean’s entire point, Dean is somehow still dissatisfied with the conversation.  Rachel attempts to speak with Dean’s father too, who decides he wants nothing more to do with this day or the weirdness of this camera crew invading his simple, private life. Defeated, she goes inside and makes out with Dean, who, in the midst of an emotional meltdown on his father’s floor mats, tells Rachel he’s falling in love with her.

The Rose Ceremony

  • Before the ceremony, Rachel debriefs on her feelings with Chris Harrison. As tears well in her eyes, Chris Harrison offers her his pocket square. Rachel wipes her eyes, leaving behind a sleek green eyeshadow shimmer on the hanky, which Chris Harrison proudly replaces it on his chest, relishing its new flair. He tells Rachel he’s not envious of the tough decisions she has to make tonight, but we all know that he deeply is.
  • Rachel gathers her last four boyfriends to tell them she’s feeling feelings of love, but that she must say goodbye to one of them. She wastes no time. The first rose goes to Bryan, smug bastard. The second goes to Dead Eric. Chris Harrison pops up out of nowhere and points at the final rose to indicate that, obviously, it’s the final rose. Rachel gives the last rose to Peter, meaning that Dean went through the torture of exposing his terrible family life for nothing. Dean, who is fantastic at not crying, does not cry, and that is the end of Dean.

Miscellaneous

  • We leave this sad episode with a flashback to Bryan’s parent’s bashing his stupid haircut, and that helps a bit.
  • The Weirdest Nickname Award goes to Rachel who calls Dean her “beautiful surprise,” a term generally only used by the parents of accident babies.
  • Next week we’re down to our final three: Peter, Bryan, and Dead Eric. This is about to be emotionally S’painful. Get it? They’re going to Spain.