frog in tea cup

2

family portrait, part 5: The Evans Sisters

Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that… that school — and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning tea-cups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was… a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!

anonymous asked:

I offer a frog chirping in the distance, crushed blackberries, and a cup of tea that tastes of rotted wood and wet straw. What was I in a past life?

SOME FORM OF TIMID WILDFOWL A SURVIVALIST A BUSH OF TOXIC BERRIES AND A GIANT HERB

anonymous asked:

You're doing a really wonderful job! It makes my day when I see new scenarios. :3 Could I ask what Uta, Naki, Yomo, and Suzuya would do if they found out their s.o caught a cold?

Aw, thank you so much! I love writing these scenarios, but it’s all thanks to you guys for taking the time to send them in ヾ(´・ω・`) 

Uta: He’s the type that never gets sick so he’s a little at loss at what to do with a highly dysfunctional partner who can only groan into their pillow, feverish and sweating. Uta suspects he should try hard not to aggravate his partner, so he makes do by asking what they’d like him to do and how he can help, but that proves wholly unhelpful when all his partner can do is grunt and give vague one word answers. Sighing, Uta drags the blankets up around his partner and lets them rest until an idea pops up. For the next half hour or so, Uta wanders around the studio, collecting all the cushions, blankets and pillows lying around. He arranges them around his partner as they sleep. He also gathers some of their favourite books, moves a portable speaker system into the bedroom and grabs them a pitcher of water. When Uta’s partner wakes up, they find themselves in a squashy fort with all of their favourite things scattered around them. “Did you build this?” they ask Uta, who grins at them.

“Feeling any better?” he asks, gesturing to his creation, and his partner smiles at him, worn out but delighted.

“Thank you,” they say, and curls up into the comforts of the pillows.

Naki: He’s a panicky kind of help. Naki isn’t an idiot, but he’s easily overwhelmed by things. As his partner sits at the kitchen tabled with a blanket wrapped around them and a thermometer in their mouth, Naki fusses over them with a million types of medication from various (and sometimes dubious origins) scattered across the table. As his partner checks their own temperature and determines that their cold is something that they can recover from after some rest and relaxation, Naki is digging up even weirder remedies from the internet. ”It says on this site that if you take a live frog and put it on your forehead while lying with you body perpendicular to the northeast, you’ll get better in about ten days!” Naki cries. “There’s no time to waste!”

“Calm down,” his partner coughs. “I’m not putting a frog on my head. Could you just make me a cup of tea with the teabags in the cupboard? I’m going to take a nap, and when I wake up I promise you I’ll be a lot better, okay? It’s just a little cold, no big deal.”

Naki looks like he wants to protest and probably personally hunt down a frog for his partner, but he understands they need rest. He gets up and helps them out of their seat. “I’ll tuck you in,” he offers, and his partner smiles tiredly at him in thanks.

Yomo: He’s the only one who can properly take care of somebody who’s ill. He carefully takes his partner’s temperature, fixes a cold compress onto their feverish skin, and makes sure there’s a water bottle and an ample amount of tissues next to them on the nightstand. Once his partner’s fallen asleep, Yomo would most likely go shopping for some food that his partner can eat when they wake up. Yomo wasn’t too knowledgable in making food, so he simply picked up several canned soups and brought them home to heat up. After the meal was quickly prepped, Yomo went to check up on his partner, whose temperature has gone down a little bit. Yomo pulls up a chair next to them and strokes his partner’s hair until they stir and groggily ask him what’s going on.

“Nothing,” Yomo chuckles. “Just go back to sleep and get more rest.”

Suzuya: Unfortunately, Suzuya would be of almost no help whatsoever. He’s definitely concerned about his partner, but he’d try so hard to make them comfortable that he ends up causing a ruckus. His partner would sigh and sniffle as Suzuya would thunder around the house, digging up blankets and cushions, knock over mugs and drop spoons in the kitchen trying to make a drink, and then accidentally turn on the air conditioning when he attempted to turn up the heat. After Suzuya tries asking his partner if he should try microwaving an entire hot water bag, they just sigh and grab his wrist.

“Suzuya,” his partner says in a very serious and very scratchy voice. “Please just sit down next to me and hold my hand until I fall asleep.” Suzuya looks surprised, but he happily makes himself comfortable on his partner’s bed and takes their hand in his, gently playing with their fingers until they finally doze off.

Overwatch: What if Heroes Were Desserts Edition
  • Genji: Gatorade-flavored ice cream mochi.
  • Mccree: Nice home cooked apple pie & a cigar.
  • Pharah: A baklava w/ rocket thrusters.
  • Soldier 76: Black coffee, no sugar.
  • Reaper: Black coffee with like ten sugars, just to annoy Jack.
  • Tracer: Pixie Sticks, but snorted as though they were cocaine.
  • Bastion: Bread thrown to ducks by an old woman sitting on a park bench. The old woman used to be in the marines.
  • Hanzo: Sake served in a cool heirloom cup with a pattern of two dragons on it. The cup got dropped on the floor and there's a chip in it. Please don't tell dad.
  • Junkrat: A pie thrown by a clown. In the center of it is a copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook.
  • Mei: A nice home-made popsicle after a long day of exploring the outdoors.
  • Torbjorn: Anything from the restaurant at Ikea, but reheated late at night and consumed at one's desk.
  • Widowmaker: A tiny little cup of mousse that's way overpriced and kind of tastes like chemicals. The little mint that came with the check is really nice though, so it kind of evens out.
  • D.va: A hot pocket dressed up like a little bunny. Also, like four Monster energy drinks.
  • Reinhardt: Fine beer, but while you have a kid sitting on your lap that's playing with your beard.
  • Roadhog: One of those vegan nutrient smoothies that tastes kinda like bread, but you're drinking it out of a tin can that was opened by stabbing it with a knife, then later reused as a cup for the smoothie.
  • Winston: peanut butter.(duh) The jar is recyclable & has a code on it for a drawing to win a computer.
  • Zarya: You'd think she'd be vodka, and you'd only be mostly correct. Specifically, she's vodka from a dented military issue canteen inherited from one's grandfather, and then you sharpied your name on it as a kid and now you take it everywhere as a way to remember him.
  • Lucio: Bubble tea in a cool light up frog cup. It's from this little local place. Come on! I'll show you sometime! My treat.
  • Mercy: red wine and gossip, while collapsed in a big poofy armchair in an unladylike manner.
  • Symmetra: One(1) square of Vishkar brand Hint of Blueberry™ dark chocolate (85% cocoa, free trade, $19.95 at licensed affiliates)
  • Zenyatta: Does fasting count as a dessert? He's a monk, and he doesn't even have a mouth. But, like, emotionally, he'd be orange juice. Something that's healthy but also delicious.

freakinamask  asked:

Have you ever written anything for Bellatrix Lestrange, I mean I know she was a monster but she was also the only female death eater as far as we know, and a woman who was likely raised to be pretty and poised and bear perfect pureblood children for a husband. Do you ever wonder how she grew up so different from her sisters or where she decided violence was better than manners and smiles you could cut yourself on.

Closest you’ll get to my Bellatrix thoughts is probably my Andromeda Tonks story. 

full piece: turncoat: in defense of andromeda tonks nee black

Mrs. Black, who preferred to be called Ms. Black, held little tea parties in the playroom for her three daughters. They used real porcelain tea cups and hot black tea. Mother would invite Minister of Magic Teddy Bear and Blood Traitor Stuffed Frog to their teas, set them up with their own little cups and then instruct—this is how you charm, coddle, insinuate—this is how you snub, strike, and smile.

That was the thing about Bella. She thought they were having tea. Annie, eleven, watched her mother come to the decision that Bella was someone you pointed at people.

By the time Andromeda’s mother met Tom Riddle, it was after the last time Annie would ever see her. But she knew—Andromeda could see it, her mother smiling slowly, touching her pearls, thinking now here is someone who knows how to aim.

You build your life around the things you want to be. Narcissa wanted to be safe. Andromeda wanted to be her own. Bella wanted a lot of things, but one of them was to be valuable.

Andromeda went out to Bellatrix’s grave a few months after Teddy’s fourteenth birthday. It was blocky and expensive. She wondered who had paid for it. It was pockmarked with curses and paint, magical writing and deep gouges, things earned from decades of spewing horror from her fingertips.

“You took my daughter from me,” she told the stone. Someone had sprayed a very nasty word across the two Ls. “I am not ever going to forgive you.”

Annie had spilled tea on Bella’s favorite doll, once, a little thing with thick curls and uneven glass eyes. Bella had shrieked about vendetta and then run off crying. Annie had snuck into her room that night with armfuls of all her softest toys and they had fallen asleep mid-giggle, little bodies curled around blankets and stuffed animals and each other.

“You called her dirty, lesser, for her father’s mundane blood, her husband’s scars. Yes, her grandparents are Muggles. And they are good, Bella—witty and kind and brave—and they taught her so many things about what life and love should look like. Yes, she married a werewolf, and he was skittish and stupidly noble and I miss him. Her son has his eyes six days out of ten, which is more often than Teddy keeps any other feature.

"I married a Mudblood, and my daughter married a werewolf, and my grandson is beautiful. And you would have killed him, too, if you had had the chance. I bet Mother’s bones sat up and applauded when you burnt that blood traitor filth from the family tree—

"Do you know what she was, Bella? What she was that we weren’t? She was loved.” Andromeda swallowed hard. “And I loved you once, Bella, but I didn’t know how to do it. And maybe I should have saved you then, but I was busy saving myself.”

Andromeda grew a garden over Bella’s grave, blooming narcissus, nightshade and belladonna. She made the stems thick, the vines hoary and tough and lasting, the flowers brilliant and unfurled. Bella had once been beautiful.

Andromeda left the graffiti on the headstone. She rubbed a thumb through one of the gouges in stone like the residue of that rage might still be there. Then she spat on it and walked away.

Her mother had burnt her off the Black family tree. Andromeda’s daughter had gone by nothing but Tonks. No drop of inheritance or favor would come down this family line, but Andromeda walked home through dry grass and smiled.

You burned us off the family records, Mother, but this is it, don’t you see? I am a Black. Nymphadora was a Black and she was mine. We are your legacy.

And don’t you see? We are loved. I was and am loved, love that I have earned and fought for and never, ever had to buy. You choose the people who choose you.

You tried to curse me and cast me out, but I left, don’t you see? I am loved, and my grandson will grow up loved. His world will be a better place than yours ever was.

Fluffy George Weasley imagine for anon

Request: Hi! I love your imagines! You are an amazing writer!! :D I was wondering if I could I get a fluffy George Weasley imagine? Maybe how he asks me out?

Aww! I love my Weasley boys :) Here ya go! Also, a certain House was not listed, so I made it Gryffindor…hope you don’t mind.  *Y/N POV*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Come on, we’re going to be late to class!” My friend Hermione said, pulling my arm. I shrugged her arm off.

“I’m almost done! Hey, wait up!” I stuffed the rest of my breakfast into my mouth as Hermione started leaving me at the table. I jogged a few steps to catch up with her, shifting my bag over to my other shoulder. We linked arms as the crowd got thicker with students. Hermione steered me away from a paint ball thrown by Peeves, which hit a Ravenclaw boy in the chest. I giggled softly, but still felt bad. Peeves was a huge bother.

Hermione and I separated as we entered the Transfiguration classroom. Mrs. McGonagall greeted us warmly. I smiled at her in response. Behind me, I heard quiet laughter. I turned to see what the cause was, and I noticed Fred Weasley and one of their friends staring at me, while George was colored a deep red. I squinted and decided to turn away instead of asking what they were laughing at, and why it was aimed at me. I took my spot next to a Slytherin girl. I didn’t talk to her much. Today, we were learning to transform a frog into a tea cup. When would you need, or want for that matter, to turn a frog into a tea cup?

~~~~

Half the lesson was over, and by then, I had successfully turned my frog into a tea cup three times. I was awarded 10 House points, along with Hermione, who had transformed hers perfectly each time. As I was going to try for the fourth transformation, something grazed my ear and landed on my desk. I jumped at this, searching for what hit me. I soon found a crumpled piece of paper. Glancing around, no one seemed suspicious. I carefully unfolded the crumpled paper under the deck, making sure McGonagall was not watching. No problem there: she was helping other students. Looking down at the paper, the words ‘just thought i’d say you look beautiful today’ were scratched quickly on the paper. I gasped quietly, looking around again. Ron and Harry were lazily practicing the spell, Malfoy and his gang were doing the same. I scanned the room, to find Fred and the other friend laughing to themselves and George ignoring them. I thought nothing of it. I shrugged off my thoughts about the paper and concentrated on the lesson.

~~~~

The Great Hall was buzzing with conversation at dinner. Hermione and I chatted about classes that day with Ron, Harry, and Ginny as usual. Fred and George were talking a short distance away. Transfiguration came up in the conversation, and I told them about the mysterious note I received. I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket and laid it out on the table. Ginny gasped happily. Ron and Harry looked confused. Hermione examined it.

“I wonder who wrote this.” She wondered aloud.

“Does the writing look familiar?” I asked the group. They shook their head. I shrugged again and stuck it back in my robes. Just then, a lone owl flew in, skidding to a stop in front of me. It had a neatly folded paper tied to its foot. I looked around at everyone again. Untying it, I read it to myself as Ginny and Hermione looked on in awe.The paper read ‘you are irritatingly adorable’ in the same writing as the other. The sentence confused me, but I still blushed slightly. I held it up to show my circle of friends. Ginny squealed, smiling widely. Hermione ‘aw’ed’ and grasped my hand excitedly. Ron and Harry just nodded. I looked around once more, trying to catch someone’s eye. No one, again. Although, I caught glimpse the Weasley twins leaving the Hall. Probably going to set up another prank on Filch again. I stuffed it back into my pocket as we continued with eating.

~~~~

After dinner, I headed back to the dorms with Hermione and Ginny. We were all still pretty excited about the notes I had gotten. Once in my bed, I gratefully crawled under the covers. My hand was positioned under the pillow. I shifted at one point; my hand touched something that felt like a stick under it. I briefly freaked out, hurriedly pulling whatever it was out.

“Oh my god!” I whispered ecstatically. I pushed off the covers and jumped on Hermione’s bed. She groaned as I jumped on her.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” She asked. I thrust the rose I had found under my pillow into her face. Her eyes widened, and she jumped out bed. We rushed over to Ginny and woke her.

“Wow!” She exclaimed. “Did it have a note?” I shook my head, then decided to check under my pillow. Sure enough, there was a note that must have fallen off when I pulled it out.

“What does it say?” Hermione and Ginny asked in unison, excitedly.

“‘For Y/N. This is the final note. Meet me in the common room’” I read aloud. The two girls gasped.    

“At least we know they’re in Gryffindor now.” Hermione said, smiling. Soon after, I was being pushed out of the dorm by Ginny.

“Go see who it is!” She said in my ear. I laughed, gently stopping her.

“Okay, okay!” I silently opened the door and slipped out, Hermione and Ginny watching as I went. Once in the common room, I spotted no one at first. Then I saw a red-head boy sitting by the fire. I cleared my throat, catching his attention. He immediately turned his head in my direction. Once he saw me, he stood and smiled.

“George?”

“Hey, Y/N. I began to think you wouldn’t show.” I narrowed my eyes questioningly at him. The the pieces clicked. It was George who left me the notes! I got it now: his blushing, his brother and friend laughing, him leaving dinner early! It was to put the rose under my pillow!

“You gave me this!” I exclaimed happily. He nodded, smiling wider. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He laughed, squeezing me tightly. I released him, looking down at the rose in my hand. “Why did you do all this?”

“I like you a lot, Y/N. I thought I would impress you by being romantic with it.” George laughed.

“You don’t have to do that to impress me, George.” I smiled sweetly.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I like you too! You could have just told me.” I poke his side. We both laugh.

“This was fun though! So, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked me. I hug him again, and we sway back and forth.

“Yes, I will be your girlfriend! Thank you so much for this!” I whisper in his ear. He lifts my face to meet his gaze. He placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I couldn’t be happier.

“You’re welcome, beautiful.” He whispered back. I playfully punched his shoulder.

“Oh, you flirt!”

“I don’t think you mind, though.” George pointed out. He was right. George Weasley, my boyfriend. I liked the sound of that.

“You’re right.” I laughed. The clock on the fireplace chimed.

“I didn’t realize how late it was.” George said.

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Definitely.” He nodded rapidly. I kissed him on the cheek before heading back to my dorm. Inside, Ginny and Hermione were waiting anxiously. We made eye contact and I squealed.

“Who was it?” Ginny jumped up and down.

“Your brother. George. He’s, uh, my boyfriend now!” I squealed back. Ginny jumped even faster and more excitedly.

“I totally called it!” Hermione said matter-of-factly. We spent a few moments talking about it, then went back to bed. I laid the rose next to my pillow; it was the last thing I saw I as drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was that fluffy enough? I liked writing this one :)

Preference #12: He Meets Your Child From A Previous Relationship

Michael: “Are you sure he’ll like me?” Michael asked you as you both walked up to the front door of your house. You and Michael had been dating for a while and you felt like it was time for him to meet your 9 year old son, Cole. Michael was nervous, to say the least, even though he had talked a big game that he’d get along perfectly well with your son. “Of course he’ll like you,” you reassured. You were sure he would, even if Cole could be quite introverted at times.
You opened your front door and called Cole down. Your friend, who had been looking after Cole while you were out with Michael, was still there and started saying her goodbyes before she left. Cole was stalling, you could tell, but eventually he had trudged downstairs.
“Cole, honey, this is Michael,” you introduced. “Hi, Cole,” Michael smiled and Cole nodded nonchalantly. That was when Michael noticed the Green Day shirt Cole was wearing and figured it’d be a good conversation starter. “So, you like music?”
Cole looked down at his shirt and then back up at Michael and nodded. Whenever you played your music around the house or when you were driving, Cole would always listen. You had showed him a lot of bands and genres of music and he seemed to like it a lot. Cole nodded, “Yeah. Do you?”
“I do,” Michael nodded. “Has your mother told you what my job is?”
Cole shook his head and looked up at Michael curiously. “I’m in a band,” Michael informed and watched Cole’s eyes widen. You giggled at your son’s evident excitement.
“No way! You’re in a band?!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me, mom?!” You and Michael chuckled as Cole went on, “What’s it like? Can I know? Can I listen to your music?”
“Here, come on! I’ll show you,” Michael smiled widely as he walked further into your house. You followed after them and listened to Michael explain 5 Seconds of Summer to your son and couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to see the two boys bond over something they both liked.

Ashton: Ashton was meeting your 5 year old daughter, Sophia, for the first time since you both started dating. He was excited to meet your daughter and you were sure they would get along easily. So one day Ashton came over and you called your daughter down from her room where she had been playing. Your daughter pranced into the hallway, dressed in a frilly tutu, a pink shirt, a bejeweled princess crown, and fairy wings with her hair in pigtails. “Sophia, this is Ashton. Ashton, this is Sophia,” you introduced and Ashton smiled kindly.
“I like your skirt, Sophia,” he said, kneeling down to be eye level with her. She smiled and looked down at her outfit. “Do you really? Do you like my crown, too?”
“Yup! And your wings,” he said with a nod. “Thank you,” she giggled. She was silent for a second, eyeing your boyfriend carefully before leaning in to say, “Do you want to come to my tea party? I don’t invite just anybody, you know.”
He smiled and looked up at you before saying, “Of course! I’d love to be a part of your tea party.” Your daughter broke out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and reached out to take his hand. She pulled him with her into the next room where a small table was already set up in her finest fake tea cups and doilies, her stuffed animals sitting around the table.
“Mommy, sit with us!” Sophia said and you obliged, sitting down in between Ashton and a frog plushie with glasses. She pretended to pour some tea into your cup and then turned to your boyfriend, “Would you like some tea, Mr. Ashton?”
“Yes please, Miss Sophia,” he replied back.
The next hour was spent with you and Ashton playing with Sophia and you could tell just how much Sophia was already taking a liking to your boyfriend. You had to admit, though, that Ashton did a great job with her.

Calum: “Trust me, he’ll love you!” You assured Calum as you both walked across the field at the park. Your boyfriend was about to meet your 7 year old son, Noah, and he was the complete opposite of nervous which surprised you. Calum was confident that things would go fine – you were the one who was getting anxious. You had asked him to meet you at the park where Noah was busy kicking a soccer ball around with another friend.
“Noah! Come say hi!” You called out to your son. The small boy paused and excused himself from his friend to run over to you and Calum, carrying his soccer ball in his hands.
“Noah, this is Calum. Calum, meet Noah,” you introduced the two. Noah was a curious little boy and was never afraid to speak his mind, which was why it didn’t shock you when he blatantly asked, “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”
You and Calum smiled. He nodded, “I am.” Noah studied him intently for a bit, as if inspecting to see if this new man standing beside his mother was even worthy enough to be there. Calum, who noticed this and wanted to try to ease the tension, gestured to the soccer jersey Noah was wearing and the ball he was rocking back and forth beneath his foot.
“Do you like soccer?” Calum asked curiously. Noah nodded, still a bit uneasy. “Do you?”
Your boyfriend nodded enthusiastically, “I do, actually!”
Noah burst into a wide smile suddenly and looked up at Calum. Noah loved anything soccer, and was bound to bond with anyone else if they did too. “Do you want to play with us?”
“Of course!” Calum said. “If you want me to play, that is.”
“Yeah! Come on!” Noah beamed and started chattering loudly as he kicked the ball toward the field. Calum followed after him and you sat back in the shade of a tree as you watched their little match take place. Afterward, Calum would take you three to get ice cream and Noah would talk his ear off though Calum didn’t mind. He was just glad Noah had taken a liking to him.

Luke: “Ellie! Come downstairs to say hi!” You called your 4 year old daughter down from her room. Your boyfriend was currently over and you figured it was time he met your daughter from a previous relationship. You heard her (reluctantly) leave her room where she had been colouring and shuffle down the stairs, holding onto the banister. When she was on the last few steps, she stopped and looked over at Luke. You beckoned her to come and she did so slowly, stopping right behind you. She was shy and intimidated to meet a stranger she had never seen before but only heard you talk about. It didn’t help that Luke towered over her considerably with his height. She held onto your hand and peeked up at him.
“Hi there, Ellie,” Luke said with a smile, kneeling down in front of her so that they were level. “My name is Luke.”
Ellie stared back at him with her big doe eyes, and hid a bit behind you. You looked down at Luke with pursed lips but he didn’t seem bothered. “Don’t be scared, honey,” you said gently, placing your hand softly on her head. “Luke’s not going to hurt you.”
Your daughter looked up at you and then tugged at your hand, gesturing for you to bend down. You did so and she whispered into your ear. You nodded and turned back to your boyfriend with a grin, “Luke, Ellie says that you’re very tall.”
Luke chuckled and nodded and then said playfully, “I am. Or maybe you’re just very small.”
“No! I’m the second tallest girl in my year!” Ellie exclaimed with a giggle but stopped herself suddenly, as if she had just been caught doing something wrong. She tilted her head to the side, studying Luke, and then stepped in front of you, noticing that he was pretty much harmless.
“Do you wanna colour?” She asked shyly in a quiet voice. Luke’s eyes flickered up to you and you both smiled warmly. “I’d love to,” Luke replied back, looking at Ellie.
She broke out into a genuine smile and spun on her heel, grabbing Luke’s hand in the process. “Follow me, Luke!”