Victoria Submitted:


I’m looking for an 8th year fic where H+D go have to walk to Hogwarts because the train broke down and then at the end she gets paralyzed & trapped in this room and D thinks she is dead…. does this sound familiar to anyone?


Hi, That would be this:

A Familiar Place By: AnneM.Oliver  - M, 40 Chapters - She looked outside the train window & everything seemed familiar, it felt right. She was going home, back to Hogwarts. One question needed asked, why was Malfoy on the train? The answer, he was leaving home,and he had no where else to go. Dramione.

- Ladybear

anonymous asked:

RFA + V + Saeran with an MC who is a paralyzed from the waist down.

Sure! We’re working on getting rid of all the writing requests as fast as possible, so count on a bit of “spam” the next few days!^-^
Now that Ayla is here, I feel so much more motivated to write, I’m so glad.^-^’

He would probably be surprised, but adapt fairly quickly.
I can imagine his apartment probably isn’t wheelchair friendly, so he would probably look into moving.
If you do have a wheelchair he would totally more than once sit on you
Also piggyback rides for you, yay!

Honestly, with him around you probably wouldn’t even need a wheelchair. This guy would probably be carrying you around if you weren’t paralyzed either.
His little basement apartment thingymajick isn’t wheelchair friendly either..
Has probably more than once bumped into your legs when you were sprawled out over the sofa eating sweets and watching idk.. Shrek or something and just said “Oh sorry did it hur… Oh yea”

She probably is also fast to adapt, and also sit and have a discussion with you over coffee, about what is best for you, in terms of getting around easy, and stuff like that.
Mom baehee, always has the stuff to do the things with!
Also can you imagine you two going to a swimmingplace and floatin around in the water? She probably did it so you also got some good exercise

If his penthouse and entire building wasn’t MC proof before, it is now..
Elizabeth the 3rd probably likes to just curl up into a ball in your lap, and Jumin loves finding you two like that
He will fight anyone who dares to insult your beauty and grace.. literally, how dare they make fun of his love..

You know those races you had with shopping carts? Yea.. That, but with wheelchairs

Service doggos all the way! One for his blindness, and one for you..
And then an extra doggo, just because yea.. Why not
He probably has also carried you around more than once
He loves you no matter what, and honestly just is a big cuddlebutt


This guy… Will be the dick to put things in high places, just for amusement.. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t.
But over all he is sweet, and understanding, although not when you roll over his foot.

Poison frogs (Dendrobates tinctorius “azureus”)  sit in the enclosure at the SEA aquarium at Resorts World Sentosa in Singapore. Measuring 1.5-6cm, the deadly species secrete toxins through their skins that are powerful enough to kill an adult.The glands of poisonous alkaloids located in the skin serve as a defense mechanism to potential predators. These poisons paralyze and sometimes kill the predator. The black spots are unique to each frog, enabling individuals to be identified. This species of frog has a distinctive hunch-backed posture.
Photograph: Suhaimi Abdullah/Getty Images

days didn’t end,
they were executed -

i was a coroner flipping over
calendar pages,
untucking the corners of the duvet and falling asleep to the lyric of your hands,

in bed anticipating hangovers
and breakfast
and regretting cigarettes
and not much else.
happy, but, you know.

you rolled to my side and told me there was no use thinking about it while i was there,

i just couldn’t stop counting the days left with piles of paper plates, with cutlery,
with borrowed money. i was getting
drunk enough to try to
make you laugh by
smashing busch cans
over my head.

nothing stuck.

it just paralyzed the house at night
into still, stale air
like somebody had died.

every morning we were new,
the lapping wind
cooling our pillows
and the soft sun
hugging the sheets,
fresh as laundry,

but by august we were
inching so close to the end
that mornings weren’t much
of a medicine anymore.

i wasted time,
but it wasn’t because
i didn’t care about it.