otp: i think i taught you well

anonymous asked:

Apparently Rowling was gonna have Draco and Hermione end up being together at the end of the series as like a plot twist and that she helped Draco through the years but apparently they thought it was too big if a plot twist so Rowling never did it and I'm sad at what could have been. I read a fanfiction similar to that and I really loved it


I love Draco and Hermione together they’re like my Harry Potter OTP. I so don’t think Ron and Hermione together I just don’t think they suit each other well.

But I adore Draco and Hermione. I feel (this is all in my shipper mind) that Draco allows for Hermione to nerd out and be more comfortable in her own snark and Slytherin traits. And Hermione allows for Draco to grow more as a person, he’s so flat as the cannon character. But Hermione helps him realise that what his parents taught him wasn’t necessarily true, she allows for his own intelligence and cleverness to come through.

I just think they balance each other a bit more and Draco has the personality and intelligence that matches Hermione’s to the extent that they might argue and bicker a lot but it’s not the fighting I feel Ron and Hermione would be doing constantly.


I kind of like that Dramione isn’t cannon, I feel like more people are willing to write fanfiction for parings that aren’t cannon. Also I like that there’s so much opportunity in fanfics because Draco and Hermione aren’t cannon, not that people wouldn’t write about them together if they were cannon.

But yeah my feelings aren’t quite sure what to do with this one. Tho that may be because it’s my last exam for the semester today.

May I?

Miraculous Ladybug

Word Count: 1719

“Remind me why I’m doing this?”

“Because it’s a party and Adrien’s dad finally let him bring people.” Alya nudged Marinette’s shoulder with her own. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“Because I can’t go, Alya. My parents have to attend their friend’s engagement party, you know that, and I’m watching the shop.”

“But this is an opportunity to dance with him!”

“I don’t know why I would want to dance with him now if I’m just going to skip out on the actual party. It feels silly.”

“So you’re just going to let him third wheel me and Nino all night?” Marinette blushed for her. Alya’s openness about her affection for Nino was as amazing as it was mortifying. Most girls Marinette knew were a little more embarrassed to profess their feelings, especially when they weren’t dating the other person.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Stepping into Adrien’s room was both familiar and nerve-wracking. She had been there before, but going as herself, as Marinette, felt more raw and honest. She glanced over at him sitting with Nino on a bed that looked too big for him. Everything looked too big for him. With his couch pushed up against the wall, the room looked even larger than before. She hadn’t gotten the chance to admire it the last time she visited, but the room was visibly flawless, much like Adrien himself. Adrien’s computer was three songs in on a dancing playlist that sounded like it was going to be full of violins and other orchestral arrangements.

“So you guys did make it,” laughed Nino.

“Natalie led us up,” said Alya. “So let’s get started. This dancing practice isn’t going to take all day, is it?” she asked.

“It’s easier than it looks,” assured Adrien, “but classic dances might be a bit uncomfortable at first. You’re obligated to dance at least one waltz at the party and it needs to look good or else I don’t think my father will let me bring you guys to another one. I already taught Nino, so he’s going to stay with you, Alya, and I’ll dance with Marinette. Just follow his lead and it’ll be over in a flash. Is that alright?”

Nino offered a hand to her best friend while Marinette took a look at Adrien’s proffered hand.

“May I have this dance?”

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5 Seconds of Summer Preference- You Speak Another Language

Ashton:  You speak Russian:

“Ведь это так здорово слышать, что вы делаете хорошо!” (Its so great to hear you’re doing well!) you said into the phone.  You had recently gotten an e-mail from your best friend in Russia.  You had lived there for the first 16 years of your life, and she had been there with you through it all.  When you moved to America, you still talked all the time over texting and Skype.  You began to do it less and less until you stopped entirely.  

“Здесь хорошо жить, мой парень должен быть дома Су-о! Вот он сейчас.” (Life is good here, my boyfriend should be home soo-oh!  Here he is right now.)  Ashton walked through the door and took off his shoes.  "Hey babe who you talking to?“ he said, grabbing a water from the fridge.  "Im talking to my old friend from Russia.  Ага ГЭС здесь.” (Yeah, he’s here.)

Ashton put down his water and leaned against the countertop.  He watched you pronounce each word with ease, not even thinking twice before the words flew effortlessly off your tongue.   

“Ну, это был пойти здорово услышать от вас! Жестокое позвоню тебе позже. Хорошо, до свидания.” (Well it was go great to hear from you!  I’ll call you later.  Okay, bye.)  You hung up the phone and looked at Ashton.  "Hey, sorry I just haven’t talked to her in a really long time.“  

"Its okay.  I had no idea you could speak….” Ashton hung the last syllable on his tongue.

“Russian.  I lived there until I was 16.”  

Ashton seemed impressed by this and walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders.  

“Why didnt you tell me?”  he asked smiling down at you.

“It never came up I guess?”

He giggled his famous giggle and looked at you again.  "How do you say ‘Ashton is the drummer god?’“

You laughed and said with no thought, "Эштон является богом барабанщик.”

“Okay when we go to Russia that will be your catch phrase okay?”  he kissed you on your nose, your right cheek, left cheek, forhead, then left a lingering one on your mouth.  


Luke:  You speak French:

Luke was on world tour with his band, and you were tagging along for the Europe leg.  You were staying in France for three days, and you were so happy walk around Paris.  You went to college in France, and you developed the French language naturally, with some guidance.  

You and Luke were sat at a small cafe table in Paris.  You sat right next to the window, allowing you a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.  You and Luke were staring in awe at the glorious landmark.  The waiter tapped you on the shoulder.  "Excusez-moi, que voulez-vous?“ (Excuse me, what would you like?).  

"Its okay babe, I got google translate.”  Luke said to you, pulling out his phone.  You looked at him for the next minute, him typing in what he wanted.  He was taking far too long so you just went the old fashion way.  

“Je voudrais que le poulet parmesan s'il vous plaît.” (I would like the chicken parmesan please.)  Luke looked up from his phone, wide eyed and opened mouth.  

“Uhhhh.  The fish?” he said.

“Il aimerait que le poisson aussi.” (He would like the fish also.)  The waiter laughed and wrote down the order.  He put the sheet away and looked at you.

“Ne sait pas beaucoup français hein?” (Doesn’t speak very much french eh?).  You laughed at his remark.

“Non, malheureusement.” (No, unfortunately.)  The waiter nodded and walked through the restaurant, taking up another tables food on the way back to the kitchen.  

“Okay who are you and what have you done with Y/N?” Luke said, leaning forward on the table.  You giggled.

“Well I told you that I went to college in France.  And while speaking English, some of my college friends helped me learn the language.  And also being used to talking to people in French helped a bit I guess.”  You smiled at Luke and he gave you a half smirk in return. 

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.  

“Say 'I love you.’”

You giggled and said, perfect pronunciation and all, “Je t'aime.”

“Say 'My boyfriend is amazeballs.’”

“Mon ami est amazballs.” You laughed at the last bit. 

“Okay now say 'Luke will you kiss me?’”  You blushed in response and said, tilting your head and closing your eyes, “Luc vous m'embrasser.”

Luke leaned over the table and whispered in your ear, “I thought you would never ask.”  He then kissed you.  Yep. you thought, Paris is beautiful.

Calum:  You speak Norwegian (holla to all my Norwegians ily)

“Jeg sverger å knulle hvis Ezra er AI vil krype til hollywood og knipse halsen! (I swear to fuck if Ezra is A I will crawl to Hollywood and snap your neck!)” I yelled at the TV.  I’ve been watching nothing but Pretty Little Liars for the past 2 days.  I’ve gone through 3 seasons I’m on a roll. 

“What did you just say?” Calum asks.  He walks into the room with a bowl of popcorn and sits next to me.  He pops one into his mouth.  “I’m just mad at the producers that’s all.  You see Ezra may be A and if Aria finds out she will flip her shit and sit in her room all day and basically want to kill herself.  But that’s what A wants, she wants to break the girls from the inside out and Im bare pizzed fordi Ezria er min OTP, og hvis han er A- (Im just pizzed because Ezria is my OTP and if he is A-)” Calum puts his hand over my mouth. “Hey!” I say, throwing his arm away. 
“Sorry babe.  But I have no idea what language you are speaking."  Calum says.  I pull my blanket closer to me and grab a handful of popcorn.  "It was Fangirl and Norwegian.  My mum is from Norway and she taught me some stuff and by the time I was 13 I was completely fluent."  I pop the popcorn in my mouth and chew.  "Ah I see.  Well go on continue fangirling in Norwegian because I think its really fascinating."  He winks and eats a handful of popcorn.  I smile. ”Nå trenger ikke få meg i gang på Ali. Så hun er “død” for som noen gang og så plutselig er hun i live, men hun kan ikke se dem ofte cuz hun er redd for A og rød frakk og alt dette andre tullet…(Now don’t get me started on Ali. So she is “dead” for like ever and then suddenly she’s alive but she cant see them often cuz she is scared of A and Red Coat and all this other bullshit…)“ Michael:  You speak German: "Happy Birthday Y/N!!” Michael yells as he burst through the door.  In his hands are presents and a cake.  Ashton Calum and Luke come in behind him, also with handfuls of presents. “Aww guys!  Thank you so much!"  I say.  I hug Michael and take the cake from his hands, putting it on the counter.  The boys put the presents on the couch and give me hug and "happy birthday”. We all sit around the fireplace as I open my presents.  From Michael I got a necklace, a pair of beautiful green converse, Doc Martins, and a kiss.  The other boys got me band t shirts, CDs, etc.  “Okay Y/N your mom wanted me to give this to you.” Michael says.  A giant bag is handed to be.  I reach in and take out the card.  It has a ladybug on the cover, since she knows my weird obsession with ladybugs. Since my mom is from Germany, the card is written in fluent German.  I giggled at all of her funny stories from when I was a little girl.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Michael trying to read the card. “Its German Michael.” I say to him.  The other boys look astonished while Michael looks confused.  “I had no idea you spoke German Y/N."  I nod my head.   "I lived in Germany for 9 years.” I say, “The card says,'  Hallo Schatz!  Ich vermisse dich wirklich!  Vor 19 Jahren an diesem Tag hatte ich ein schones kleines baby.  Sie haben in eine wunderschone frau geworden.’ which means, 'Hi honey!  I really miss you!  19 years ago on this day I had a beautiful little bay.  You have grown into a gorgeous woman.  Then she tells about the time where I got chased by a squirrel at a gas station, and the time I flipped off the referee at a baseball game, and a bunch of other times.”   Michael looks amazed that I can speak German that well.  “Can you teach me sometime?"  he asks.  I nod my head.” Ich liebe dich.“ I say.  "Ikh lebie dish.” he says, entirely wrong I might add.  “And what does that mean?” “Ich liebe dich means I love you.” I say, smiling.  “Awh I love you too baby.” he says, leaning in to kiss me.  I grab his face and the other boys scoff and fake hurl.