Here’s a fun april fools day prank you can do. Sneak into my room and place thousands of dollars everywhere. Just on everything. Cover my things with an insane amount of money. Make it a real hassle to clean up. The more money the better the prank.
He comes from a long line of magicians, although he doesn’t have any family left. A few generations ago, his direct ancestry split from the magicians, so he doesn’t even know where to find them if there are any left.
He’s not very good at doing many tricks although he can pull off a few. He is the type of person to only do what he is confident in and struggles to grow. He ends up following Bae for the length of the story. He looks up to her and is jealous of her strength and ability to take action.
In the beginning, when he meets Bae, he acts as a sort of guide for her. He fakes confidence for her and tries to take her through the country. She realizes he isn’t very brave, but grows to appreciate him anyway and encourages his efforts.
I drew him wearing his performance clothes. He normally wears stuff that doesn’t stand out, but after travelling with Bae for a while, he dons these quite normally so he can be noticed. Bae and Trick sort of ground each other throughout the story. The two consider what is best for the other. She begins to see him as a little brother or younger companion that needs support and guidance.
Here are my other OC’s from this idea I like to daydream about:
I’m gonna buy a Furby and gag it with a sheet, then tie it up and hide it above one of the tiles in the ceiling. Time will pass, but shit will start to go down. People will hear voices and weird sounds coming from the roof. Eventually, someone might even look into it. But what are they going to find? Nothing, because this fucking Furby is going to move. I’m talking bathrooms, lockers, classrooms. You name it, this fucking Furby will haunt the shit out of it. People will start to get freaked out. Rumors will spread. The buddy system will be woefully reinstated. But what happens when Furbies are neglected? The answer is simple. They start to cry. And just like that, this Furby infestation will evolve into a full-fledged Furby poltergeist. It will whine, moan, scream and beg. You won’t be able to take a dump without something sinister crying ‘feed me, feed me’ from the ventilation. And when the battery starts to die, the Furby’s sound system will get fucked up. It will warp, glitch, malfunction- People will have nightmares. Rooms might get locked, maintenance crews will get called in. Hell, someone might even call a Shinto priest to exorcise the miniature demon terrorizing the school. And after all the chaos this little Furby will unleash, it will suddenly stop. It will stop moving, stop crying. The walls will finally go silent. And at long last, they’ll find it. Gagged and bound, with the batteries taped to it’s face. But it’s not over yet, oh no. They’ll throw this Furby out, that’s a given. With the evil destroyed, life will go back to normal. The days will fly by, and when the time comes for graduation, all will be swell. The last day of school will go off without a hitch. Until, that is, the announcements come on. We’ll hear the usual garbage- How it was a great year, the grads will be missed, and to have a good summer. And finally, how the graduating class has a special message to the rest of the student body. A voice recording from our very own Furby- with the warped, feeble words played into the PA.
-Dropping you off to school on his way to the studio
-Buying you tampons (or pads)/condoms
-If you’re in urgent need
-Giving you advice about dating
-Helping you through your heartbreaks
-By eating lots of ice cream
-And watching anime and drama
-’He/She didn’t deserve you anyway.’
-Playing with your hair to help you relax
-Ending up with writing a song about your heartbreak
-’Hyung/Oppa~~ why are you using my misery to earn money?~’
-Pranking your parents together
-Teaching you how to play piano when he’s free
-Taking you to fancy restaurants
-Bringing you the prettiest gifts from all around the world
-And you love him the most because he is so protective of you.
A/N: So sorry I couldn’t post all week but class started for me and I was pretty busy with my mom as well since she joined my college and I had to help her as well. I hope I won’t be too busy and I’ll be able to post more often.
Don’t forget to fill out the application if you want to join us as an admin. We need you!!
Here’s a great April Fool’s prank to pull on me. Sneak into my room and put thousands of dollars everywhere. On everything. Make it a real hassle to clean up. Remember, the more money, the better the prank
A/N: This is my first preference ever, so I hope you all like it. I know Louis’ is a tid bit longer than the rest of the boys, so sorry about that. I just got carried away! Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Zayn: Simmer down, simmer down. They say we’re too young now to amount to anything else. But look around. We worked too damn hard for this just to give it up now.
“Y/N, what’s going on?” Zayn tore his eyes away from the screaming fans outside the window. They had come out in droves to see the boys tonight at the premiere, something you had become adapted to and usually enjoyed. But tonight was different. Tears threatened to spill over your eyelashes, and Zayn could always tell when something was wrong. It was something you had always loved about him, his endless supply of empathy, but tonight you wished he wasn’t attuned to your every emotion.
“I can’t do this, Zayn,” you whispered. No use lying.
“Darling, what are you talking about?” he asked, and the concern etched across his every feature is what finally broke you. Salty tears cascaded down your cheeks and you were at a loss to stop them.
“They don’t…they don’t like me Zayn. They don’t think I’m good enough for you, and you know what? Maybe they’re right. Maybe you are throwing your life away by being with me. Maybe we are too young to be engaged.” You looked down at the diamond ring that sat on your left hand, clouded by your tears. For a moment, you wanted to rip the damn thing off your finger, give it to someone, anyone else. They’d be way better for Zayn than you ever could be.
“Y/N, Y/N. Hey, look at me,” Zayn said, tilting your chin up to look at him directly into his deep brown eyes. They’d always reminded you of the earth, grounded you. “Calm down. Who cares what they say anyway? For just a minute, pretend your fiance isn’t in a boyband, and that it’s just me and you. No one else matters, Y/N. I love you, and only you. I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you and we’ve been through way too much to just give up now. Don’t listen to them, listen to me: I love you, and I always will.”
“Me and you?” you asked.
“Forever. Why else would I have asked you to marry me?”
Niall: “You look so perfect standing there in my American Apparel underwear and I know now, that I’m so down”
Ah, shit, he thought. There it was. The moment he’d been waiting for. Like the bass had finally dropped. The first day of spring after a harsh winter. Like the crash of a wave on the beach after the swell. He knew it was coming, but it still stopped his heart.
Penny in the air, he’d thought that first moment he heard you say his name. He’d seen you across the bar, hand wrapped around a bottle of Guinness, scanning the crowd for someone you knew. He’d gone over and introduced himself, but you hadn’t needed for him to say anything.
“Niall Horan,” you’d said, and his breath had caught in his throat. Had anyone else ever said his name the same you just had? He was sure they hadn’t. “What are you staring at? Gonna buy me a drink, Irish boy?” He’d sat down next to you and never really let you go after that.
Now he sat at the edge of the bed, head in his hands, trying as hard as he could to wake himself before he had to go to the studio for the day.
“You okay, babe?” he heard you ask, and he lifted his head up.
Penny dropped. You stood in the doorway, toothbrush hanging lopsidedly out of your mouth as your hands weaved delicately through your hair, taming the just-out-of-bed mess. Your white tee-shirt lifted up to reveal a familiar pair of boxers - his favorite ones with the little rubber ducks on them - hanging loosely off your hips. You looked perfectly disheveled, and what made it even better was that you were his. Purple toothbrush and all.
“Yeah,” he replied through a tight throat. He coughed and stood up, shuffling his groggy feet over to you. He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you into him, eliciting a high-pitched giggle from your lips.
“Niall, what are you doing? I look gross,” you said, plucking the toothbrush from your mouth and wrapping your hands around his neck.
He leaned down and kissed you, tasting the toothpaste on your lips.
“Nah. You look perfect.”
Harry: Your lipstick stain is a work of art. I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart and I know now, that I’m so down.
“Mate, what have you got on your collar?” Louis asked of Harry, pointing to a bright red mark on the collar of his button-down. The color was one Harry was intimately familiar with and immediately sent a shock straight through his heart.
“It’s Y/N’s lipstick…”
“Dude, that’s gross. How long has it been since you’ve washed that thing? Honestly, man.” Louis rolled his eyes playfully and walked off to get his hair done for the concert leaving Harry alone with only the whisper of your lips still on his shirt.
He couldn’t even remember when it was that you’d left the mark. It could have been any one of the…rendez-vous…you’d had together, and it killed him to find that all of your memories were blending together. Was this the time that you’d accidentally given him a black eye? Or when he’d caught himself watching you sleep, the fluttering rhythm of your beating in time with his own? He went through every memory you two had together until he matched the lipstick stain with its respective meeting.
“Honestly, Haz, we can’t keep doing this,” you’d said to him that night, laughing as you twirled your fingers in his hair. He was too busy looping his fingers through the belt holes in your jeans and pulling you down onto the bed with him.
“Harry,” you scolded into his ear, but he wasn’t paying attention. “We can’t keep sneaking around like this.”
“What’s so wrong with sneaking around?” he asked, pulling your hips against his. Your lips fumbled for his neck in the dark, but you missed, planting one on his collar. Harry laughed but seemed to sober up when you did finally hit your mark.
“I want to be with you, Harry. And that includes the daylight hours,” you said after a long pause. You’d seemed to forget what you had been going on about before, lost in the feeling of his hands all over you.
“Okay,” was his only response.
“Yes, okay. We’ll go on a lunch date or something tomorrow.”
“Whatever will make you happy. Now shut up and kiss me.”
But that was months ago, and now he stood in front of the mirror, missing your touch, missing your laugh, and the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. He looked down at the paper he’d been sketching on to see your named surrounded by a heart with an arrow through it. God, he needed to see you. Or talk to you. Anything to lift his heart out of the trash dump it was currently residing in without you.
“Ten minutes till we’re on,” Liam shouted in the room as he walked by. Harry quickly pulled out his phone and hit his first speed dial.
“Y/N?” he said as soon as he heard you pick up.
“Harry? What’s up?” You sounded groggy, and he realized that it was probably way early in the morning back home.
“I was just thinking of you, looking at this work of art you left on my collar all those months ago. Remember? It still hasn’t come out.”
You laughed despite feeling like you were about to die of exhaustion.
“Come home soon and I’ll give you another one.” You were both silent for a moment, desperately aching to be where the other was. “I miss you, Haz.”
“I miss you, too.”
Liam: If I showed up with a plane ticket and a shiny diamond ring with your name on it, would you wanna run away too? ‘Cause all I really want is you.
Today was a lazy day. Weeks and months ago, you and Liam had planned that this Sunday would be the laziest of all lazy days, complete with chick flicks and popcorn and blanket forts and lots and lots of pillows. It’d been ages since you’d seen each other, what with his busy schedule as Liam Payne of One Direction, and you had been looking forward to just one day with him all to yourself.
The early afternoon late shone through the cave of blankets pinned up haphazardly through the living room. The movies and popcorn were long forgotten at your feet, and you snuggled close to each other, catching up on what you had missed of each other’s lives over the past few months. You were propped up on your elbows, watching and listening closely to his every tale.
“I swear, management was absolutely fuming,” Liam chuckled, telling you a story about one of the money pranks they had pulled backstage. You watched his forehead crinkle and his lips curl up on either side, sighing contently because he was finally here, in your arms. Home.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, intertwining his fingers with yours. Such a simple movement, but it felt so incredibly perfect and sweet, just like Liam.
“Nothing. I just missed you.” You leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.
“I missed you, too. So much. You know, so many times I thought about just hopping on a plane and flying home, two tickets to God knows where in my hands. I’d sweep you off your feet and we’d run away from all of this. Everything. No more crazy fans, no more stalker paps.” He looked down at you, the fantasy dancing brightly in his eyes. “Would you have come with me?”
It didn’t take you more than a second to respond. “In a heartbeat, Li.”
“Good. Cuz all I want, all I have ever wanted, is you.”
You spent the rest of your day planning your imaginary trip, knowing full well that it would never happen, but not admitting it. As the sun sunk below the trees and cloaked the two of you in darkness, you rested your head on Liam’s chest and fell asleep with the promise of paradise hanging on your lips.
Louis: I made a mixtape straight out of '94. I’ve got your ripped skinny jeans lying on the floor and I know now, that I’m so down.
Music spilled out of the computer speakers next to Louis’ bed. Old music that you could vaguely remember from your childhood, and had always loved. You rolled over in bed and shoved your face into Louis’ empty pillow and groaned loudly. God, did your head hurt. You couldn’t even remember what had happened the night before.
“Louieeeeeee,” you croaked out, reaching your hand out toward where you assumed Louis was sitting. You couldn’t count the times you’d woken up in your best friend’s bed the day after a party, and you almost had a routine down pat: wake up, roll around, complain to Louis about whatever boy you had hooked up with the night before, and then get up and go out to breakfast at 2 pm.
Why was why your eyes snapped open when Louis didn’t groan back and crawl into bed with you. He was sitting in his computer chair, nose in his phone, typing furiously. You tilted your head to the side and furrowed your face in confusion.
“What’s wrong, Lou?” you asked, but he remained silent, very interested in whatever text he was sending. Probably his girlfriend, you thought. You flopped back onto the pillows and moaned loudly. “What even happened last night?”
As soon as you said it, it was as if a dam had broken and the memories came flooding back. Hands on your hips, on your back, up your shirt. Hands everywhere, searching. Soft, pliant lips crashing into yours, years of longing and desperation in every caress. Someone taking off your pants and throwing them back, laughing. That laugh, it was so familiar. So achingly recognizable you could feel it on the tip of your tongue.
You shifted around and stared at something slung over Louis’ recliner. Ripped blue jeans - a very recognizable pair of ripped blue jeans. They couldn’t be…
It was Louis. Last night. The guy you’d kissed, hooked up with. It was your best friend who was sitting five feet away from you. Your best friend who had a girlfriend. Your best friend who you’d always been slightly in love with. Your. Best. Friend.
“Oh,” you breathed out, and it was at this, finally, that Louis responded.
“Figure it out, yet?” he asked, clicking the lock button on his phone, turning his gaze to you instead.
“Louis. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“You have a girlfriend, Louis.” Why was she the first thing you brought up? Out of everything you could say - “It wasn’t a mistake”, “I’ve wanted this forever”, “I love you” - you brought up his girlfriend.
“Yeah, well. Not anymore.” He sighed, uncrossing his legs and walking over to the bed. He flopped down next to you and stared at the ceiling.
“What are we gonna do, Louis?” you whispered. As if you didn’t say it aloud, you would be able to lay like this forever. You’d be able to forget that Louis thought this was a mistake, that he’d been too drunk to make any rational decisions. If you didn’t say it aloud, you could live in this denial forever.
“What do you want to do, Y/N?”
“Don’t put this on me, Louis. You know that isn’t fair.”
Louis laughed, sharp and bitter. “You want to know what’s fair? Nothing. Nothing is fair about watching your best friend hook up with random guys while you fall in love with the way she laughs. Nothing is fair about finally getting up the courage to tell her and realizing she’s too drunk to remember. Nothing is fair about waking up next to her and realizing that in a few short hours, she’s going to wake up and realize that she’s made the biggest mistake of your life and you have to pretend to be okay with never seeing her again. Life isn’t fair, Y/N. None of it.”
“No. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I know this isn’t what you want. Just leave, Y/N. It’ll make this easier on the both of us.”
“My God, Louis, you are the stupidest man I have ever met.” He looked over at you, eyes piercing straight into your heart. “I’m in love with you, Louis Tomlinson. And so help me God if it took you our entire lives to figure that out.”
“You can’t be serious, Y/N.”
“You’re such a drama queen, Louis. Of course I’m being serious.” You grabbed a pillow from behind you and smacked him across the face with a satisfying thunk.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now.” Louis grabbed your stomach and pulled you close to him, runing his fingers across your skin and sending you into a fit of giggles.
“Stop it! Stop, Louis!” you screeched out between wheezing. “Please!”
“You know what to say, Y/N.”
You groaned. “Louis Tomlinson is the hottest man on God’s green earth,” He immediately stopped tickling you and grabbed your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.
“Don’t ever forget it.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”
A/N: I’m sorry I didn’t know there would be a third. I saw a comment on the first one about the Winchester’s I’d briefly mentioned and this just kind of happened.
Revenge: Winchester Edition
(Y/N) was walking back to the common room when she was intercepted by Draco. “(Y/L/N) walk with me.” He said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“What Draco?” She asked.
“It would appear that quite a few Slytherins have been bothering some of the Mud- I mean Muggleborns. Do you think Granger would find offense at that and talk to Frodo or what do you think?” Draco asked.
“How should I know Draco? Besides, it’s far more likely she’ll call in the Winchesters this early.” She said.
Here's a fun april fools day you can do. Sneak into my room and place thousands of dollars everywhere. Just on everything. Cover my things with an insane amount of money. Make it a real hassle to clean up. The more money the better the prank.