ok, I was starting an illustration on the entire Weasley family.
 I SWEAR! I was doing it.

 Then I don’t know what happened, I was distracted for 5 minutes, and this Sirius came out. 

Sorry, it was a time of weakness.

I swear I’ll do all the arts I promised.  

The Blessing

Choosing the ring had been difficult. His first instinct had been to go with red or pink, but she already wore enough of those. She’d always said she loved his eyes, but giving her a ring to match him seemed… possessive. Chloé-like. In the end, he went with sapphires, to match her eyes, flanked by smaller emeralds to show union.

Nino had asked him if he was sure he was ready. Stupid question. He’d been ready to propose to Marinette for years. He’d been ready to marry her for years.

There was just the matter of telling Ladybug.

Oh, he knew she’d approve. After all, if anyone could make her cat happy, she’d be all over that - if it weren’t for the identities getting in the way, she’d probably even offer to organize the wedding herself, because that was just who she was. The problem was the identity reveal. Adrien couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t tell Mari who he was. He couldn’t propose to her and lie to her. And that - well that was something he needed to speak to Ladybug about.

Bringing it up was awkward. He’d carried the ring with him for six patrols now, hidden in the pocket of his suit, waiting for him to work up the courage to ask for her blessing.

She finally caught on during the seventh. “You’ve been a bit spacey lately, Chaton,” she said as they finished their patrol atop Notre Dame Cathedral. “Is something wrong?”

Chat smiled ruefully and shook his head, his shaggy locks ruffling against his forehead. “Not at all, My Lady,” he said. “There’s just… I need to talk to you about something.”

Immediately, she sat down and looked up at him with eyes the exact same blue as the ring, reminding him of a thousand stolen glances, a thousand kisses under the night sky, a thousand hushed whispers of Marinette as he drowned in love for her, for the girl who’d once been his shy classmate and had blossomed into the powerful young woman who held his heart cradled between her hands.

“What’s up?” Ladybug said.

“It’s… my girlfriend,” Chat said.

“Oh no.” Ladybug covered her mouth with delicate fingers. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Chat said. “I just…” He reached into his pocket and produced the ring, gemstones glinting in the starlight.

Ladybug took the ring between her fingers, staring at it, enraptured. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Chat nodded. “She’s… she’s everything to me,” he said. “She is the strongest, smartest, most…” He sniffed. “She has so much passion,” he said. “So much life. And I would give anything to be able to share in that life.”

Ladybug laid a hand on Chat’s shoulder. “I know,” she said. “You’ve talked about her before. She sounds… incredible.” If Chat didn’t know better, he’d have sworn he saw Ladybug crying. “When are you planning to propose?”

“I don’t know yet,” Chat said. “I needed… to ask you something first.”


“I need to ask for permission to tell her who I am.”

Ladybug stared at him, then swallowed. “Chat…” she whispered. “You know why we can’t.”

“I know.” Chat’s chin dropped to his chest. “I know it’s a risk, telling her. But… I can’t keep any secrets from her. Not anymore. If it’s risky… then I’ll just have to take that risk.”

“It sounds like you really love her,” Ladybug whispered.

“More than anything.”

She stared away from him, down at the ground. He wasn’t sure what she was staring at. “I…” she began, then stopped. “Are you sure about this?”

He nodded.

She pursed her lips. “If you really want to tell her… you have my blessing.”

Chat leaped up and lifted her into a crushing hug, tears racing down his cheeks. “Thank you, My Lady,” he said.

When he’d finally put her back on her feet again, she stepped back. “So,” she said. “How are you planning to propose?”

Chat smirked. The hard part was over. Now for the fun part. “Like this.”

Green light ran up his body, releasing the leather catsuit and replacing it with the shirt that Marinette had always loved on him, and the scarf that she didn’t think he knew she’d made. He dropped down on one knee, holding the ring out. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he said solemnly. “Will you make me the happiest cat in Paris?”

Ladybug stared at him, frozen in shock.

He bit his lip. Shit. Had he gone too far?

“It’s me,” she whispered. “It’s… you love both of me.”

Adrien nodded. “Since the day we met.”

“How long have you known?”

“Six months,” Adrien said. “You talk in your sleep.”

She kept staring at him, her breath hitching, and he waited, frozen, still on one knee. Had he misjudged it? Did she not -

Pink light. Everything was pink.

And suddenly Ladybug was gone, and there was his girlfriend, pulling him to his feet and into the most soul-wrenching, toe-warming, lip-biting kiss he’d ever had.

Fifteen seconds. Three heartbeats. Adrien could have sworn he’d died right then, because everything that happened after that HAD to be heaven.

She pulled away and looked him right in the eyes. “Yes,” she said, her mascara running down her cheeks. “Yes I will marry you, Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien’s smile could have powered every light in Paris.

Façade (Part 2)

Author’s Note: The original fic was written by the amazingly talented @littlemisssyreid (link to original below), and is one of the best fics I’ve ever read. It gives me so many feels. I asked her very nicely if I could write a part two, and she said yes. SO, here it is: my contribution to a second part of ‘Façade’

Original/Part One

Originally posted by livvy1800

Own it. Own it. Own it. Head high; Keep it cool. Saunter. Saunter. Breathe. Sway, sway, sway. And… there.

You exhaled deeply as you turned the corner of the hallway and heard the door close behind you. You were tingling all over from what you’d just done, almost shaking, as you pressed the button to the elevator. The door opened, and you stepped inside.

You had proven a point. And what a damned good point it was.

Come on… Shut the door…

You heard the steps of someone running towards you, and you punched the button again.

Come oooon…

The doors started closing and you allowed yourself to let out a breath of relief, but you choked on it as Bucky turned the corner and stopped the door at the last minute.

You immediately put on the bitchiest face you could muster and leant against the back wall of the elevator and crossed your arms, staring at the doors. He slipped in beside you just as the doors closed. You pretended you hadn’t noticed him, even though the two of you were the only two people in the lift.

“What the hell was that?!” he demanded, his eyes on yours and trying to catch his breath.

You shifted slightly so you were leaning even further against the back wall, sighing softly, before inspecting your nails in boredom.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and not say anything, Y/N!”

Keep reading


Requested: My aunt passed away three years ago and she was my best friend in the whole world. Whenever I have bad days, I throw one of her old sweatshirts on and curl up in it because it’s giant on me. Could you maybe do an imagine where Shawn notices his gf is curled up in a sweatshirt that has the same meaning as mine, so he snuggles with her and makes her day better???


Originally posted by sensualkisses

Its one of those days, those days where you miss your aunt so much that you feel like the hole in your heart from missing her is going to destroy you. One of those days where you want to collapse into yourself because you miss her so much and you don’t want to have to exist without her. One of those days where you want more than anything for her to just be here with you. 

They say it is supposed to get better with time, but as time passes all you can think about is how she’s not here to see everything thats happening in your life. She would have liked Shawn, you’re sure of it. But that makes you even more sad because she passed away before you met Shawn, so she never got to meet him. She never got to tell you that you did good. Or tell Shawn that if he broke your heart that he’d have to answer to her. But you know she would have said both those things had she been around to say it.  

You’re curled up on the couch, wearing your aunts sweatshirt. Its big on you, and you wear it whenever you miss her. It makes you feel closer to her. The front door slams, signaling that Shawn just arrived home. You wipe a few stray tears from your eyes, not wanting him to know you’ve been crying. “Y/n, are you home?” You hear Shawn’s voice float from the entryway, although you can’t see him yet. You don’t answer right away. You just want to sleep, and you don’t want Shawn to worry about you if he finds out you’re sad. So you close your eyes, and pretend to be asleep as you hear Shawn’s footsteps approaching. 

You assume that Shawn will notice you’re asleep and probably go off to the kitchen to find himself food or something, but you’re startled when you feel his fingers gently thread through your hair. When his lips come into contact with your forehead, your eyes flutter open. “Hi baby,” He whispers, gazing down at you. 

“How did you know I wasn’t sleeping?” You question, knowing Shawn would not have reacted that way had he believed you were actually sleeping. 

“You’re wearing her sweatshirt, and theres still tear stains on your cheeks.” He explains solemnly before moving you slightly so he can sit down on the couch and pull you into his arms. He kisses you before puling you even closer, letting the comfort of his arms engulf you. You don’t respond, instead, you simply bury your face in his t-shirt, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes. After a few minutes of your sniffling being the only sounds between to you, Shawn finally speaks, “Its okay to be sad, you know.” You just press yourself closer to him, and he responds by holding your tighter. 

Sometimes there are no words that will make anything better. Sometimes its just having someone there with you that makes things better. And you still miss your aunt so much, but at least Shawn is here with you. It doesn’t make everything better, but it does make that hole you feel from missing her feel a little less like it’s about to break you in two and leave you crying on the ground. 

After a few more moments of silence, Shawn suggests, “How about we have pizza and watch a movie?” 

“I thought you were going out with Brian and Matt tonight, its boys night.” You respond, knowing that was what Shawn had planned for the night.

“My girl comes first. So pepperoni?” He questions, pulling out his phone and going through his contacts for your favorite pizza place nearby.

“Shawn, it’s fine. Just go, I promise I’ll be fine.”  

“I’m not leaving. Stop trying to get rid of me babe. So pepperoni?”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, I just don’t want you to cancel on Brian and Matt on such short notice.”

“They’ll live.” He responds. “I’m going to get pepperoni pizza.” He calls the pizza place before you can reply. He made a decision because you wouldn’t answer. He knows you love pepperoni pizza. “And those bread things you like, what are they called? Cheese br– Hi, can I place an order for delivery?” Shawn orders the pizza, and your favorite cheesy garlic bread bites. 

When he finally hangs up the phone after placing the order and giving them the address, you lean up to kiss him, which he happily returns. “Thank you Shawn,” You’re so grateful for him and the way that he cares so much and knows just how to make your bad days better. 

Real talk - Hogwarts Houses

Listen up folks!
So, we all know about our Hogwarts houses and we also know that it is an unspoken rule that your Hogwarts house is kind of your own very important, very chaotic but also very lovable family.

However, I am slowly but steadily getting sick of hearing:

“Oh, you’re a Slytherin, so you are an evil piece of shit.”

Like, no. Kindly f*ck off. It’s true that once you have pissed me off, I’ll make your life miserable, but that doesn’t mean that I’m evil, at least not per se.

And this does not only go for Slytherins.
It goes for every house.

Gryffindors aren’t reckless.
Hufflepuffs aren’t vulnerable.
Ravenclaws aren’t boring.
Slytherins aren’t evil.

You wanna know how I know? Apart from the obvious evidence given in the books, let’s just take one short look at their freakin’ crests.


Their house animal is a bloody lion!
Yes, it’s true that male lions sometimes fight recklessly. BUT, a lion pride has a strict hierarchy and rules which are to be followed. The young lions are to be protected at all cost and the pride is literally living together. Whether they are hunting or grooming each other or simply lying on the sun together. They protect each other, the pride and their territory.

So, should you ever think that Gryffindors are happy go lucky idiots , than you are most likely fucking wrong. Thank you very much.


Oh boy, don’t even get me started… You think a badger is cute and harmless? Well, yes they are, but still. Have you ever heard of the honey-badger? Probably the most badass living mammal I have ever heard of. That animal eats snakes! Freakin’ snakes!!
It digs out the honey out off a bee hive and gets stung ten to twenty times and simply does not give a shit.

If you still think Hufflepuffs are vulnerable you better get ready to get your ass kicked.


Alright, so, Ravenclaws always read and have a stick up their arse? Well, think again!
Their animal is a motherfudging eagle. That creature is so epic even Americas bald eagle loses its feathers. Have you seen its claws? Because I have and they certainly aren’t just for decoration.

They might have their head in the clouds but from up there they can see all your flaws so shut the fuck up about Ravenclaws being boring.


Yes, you say the snake is an evil demon? Well , you thought wrong, asshat! It’s true that the snake is a sign of the wicked, but it is also known for its wisdom and healing. Snake poison is indeed used for certain antidotes hence the use of the snake as the sign of medicine.
Furthermore , in mythology it is the symbol of eternity and primal energy (Uroborus.)

So yeah, you wanna say that I’m a piece of shit? Okay, maybe so. But that has nothing to do with my Hogwarts house. So leave it.

Things we don’t discuss enough:


Give me sad Remus Lupin playing the piano before a full moon waiting for the change. 

Give me post change Remus a little worn but munching on chocolate with the James, Sirius and Peter encouraging him to play a tune. 

Give me rumors all throughout Hogwarts and Hogsmeade about the haunting screams from the shack but also the equally haunting piano music that echoes down the hills. 

The fallen

Some say that the trees whisper their names. That you can hear their fading laughter on the wind.

Footprints sometimes appear in the moist grass or mud and their steps echo through the halls.

The paintings on the wall tip their hats to the shadows dancing through the corridors and a cooling breeze gently caresses the curtains.

On photos you think you see a third person but they quickly disappear after a second look.

Sometimes the couch is still warm from someone else sitting on it , even though it’s three in the morning. And the house elves sometimes talk and wave at thin air.

The professors might call you by the wrong name and suddenly they have to blink tears away but can’t fight the small but sad smile that flickers over their face.

Countless cats and owls without an owner wander the school and sleep on the abandoned desks in empty class rooms. And sometimes, they freeze, lift their head and cry out. Whining until someone picks them up and reassures them.

Still opened books are gathering dust in the library. Nobody could ever bring themselves to store them away.
But sometimes a light winds picks up a page and will turn it ever so gently.

And every year on may 2nd , when the sunlight hits the surface of the lake, you can see the backs of fifty six people standing side by side. Facing the sun. They shimmer in the air and their feet don’t touch the ground.

One of them has red hair and the pupils could have sworn that they have seen someone who looked just like him when they were shopping in Diagon Alley.

Next to him, a married couple. You can tell by the way they are holding each others hands. The woman has bright pink hair and her husband seems to radiate warmth and kindness.

Then there is this younger kid. A vintage camera in his small hand. He always tries to take a picture of the sun, but he has never managed to catch the right moment yet.

Next to him stands a blonde, pale girl with a rose ribbon in her hair. She always lays a hand onto the boys bony shoulder and squeezes it gently.

They are surrounded by fifty other people.
The pupils can never actually see their faces. Only their backs. Like a wall of light and warmth they stand united at the lake. Enjoying the sun. Protecting what is left.

And there at the end of the line. There is a man, standing on his own. He is wearing all black. It suits him in a bizarre way. He is yellowish and pale and has black hair. He never looks at the sun. Instead, he stands in the shadow of a tree. Watching the others.

It took years. But after nineteen winters the married couple flowed towards him, took his hand and pulled him to join the others.
To stand together by the water. Between the wild and the school.

As guardians.
As patrons.
As a promise.

Not another child would die on this ground. Not here. History might be written with blood, but not at a place of ink. Not at this school.

Not at hogwarts.
Not at home.

Ravenclaw Headcanon

When a Ravenclaw makes their way to the great hall for breakfast, they take the long way there so they can talk to some of their favorite portraits. Sometimes they get knowledge passed on through generations of portraits all over the school. Sometimes they hear the portraits talking about the past, sometimes distant, sometimes more recent. And most of the portraits like to talk about troublemakers that they always saw out of bed after hours and insisted on people calling them The Marauders. Whenever a Ravenclaw asks what The Marauders real names are, the portraits just smile sadly and say words that most certainly aren’t names: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

Friendly reminder

That whilst Harry lost his parents, that day, Minerva MC Gonagall lost four of her students. One of them used to be a head girl the other the head boy and all of them were her dear friends. Who btw. where also part of the order. She hears that Sirius Black. **Sirius Black** , Potter’s best friend , killed him, his wife and Peter Pettigrew, also one of his closest mates. She learned that , without reason but only the order of a dark lord, he killed his friends and laughed at their corpses.

She learns that their lovely son will grow up without knowing his parents.
She hears that he will have to stay with the muggles who hate him and his kin. And don’t tell me she didn’t know that.

Then, 11 years later she meets the boy and he looks just like James. Except for his eyes. Of course. Don’t tell me she didn’t , just for a second, felt that thug in her stomach. The grief. Don’t tell me she didn’t want the very best for that boy so many people loved and lived and died for.
(Because I honestly don’t think Remus wanted to keep on going after he heard what happened)

Then, again, two years later it turns out that Black is actually innocent. Don’t you think she felt absolutely horrible and guilty for letting him being shipped off to azkaban when he was in fact innocent. FOR 12 BLOODY YEARS!!!

And then, in Harry ’s fifth year Black fucking dies?? I mean, bugger off arsehole! Sirius Black, finally free. And then? He falls into the bloody veil and leaves as well. He wasn’t even hit by the bloody avada kadavra! By that time she lost four of her former students!

And last but not least. Two years later. Remus Lupin dies. As the last of the mauraders, he dies with his wife’s hand clasped in his own.


and it didn’t even stop there. I mean, she had to watch her own pupils die once again during the battle of hogwarts. Just so she could then, later on, be the headmaster for their sons and daughters and brothers and sisters.




Let's get out there

You know that feeling when you really want to jump into the black and white lines in your book? When your own world seems boring and you realise that you are not the main character in a haunting story?

You are not Hermoine Granger, the brightest which of her age.
You are not Bilbo Baggins who left for an adventure.
You are not Katniss Everdeen who fought for life and love and justice.
You are not Achilles who grasped and swallowed immortality.
You not odysseus who walked with giants.
You are not Aelin who will gain back her crown.
Your are not fictional.

Instead you are very real. You might struggle with school. With your mentality. With your personal life. You wish for problems so big that they would overshadow your own and turn you life upside down.
You are waiting for an opportunity.
But you know what you are actually doing?
You are wasting time.

Stop waiting.
Stop wasting.

Yes, we are not in those magnificent universes that other people created with their imagination.
But you know what?
All stories have something that anchors them into our world.

Those ideas. Those worlds. Those universes. Those books. They didn’t appear out of thin air.

Something in those books, and it might only be the nightsky, but something in there comes from our world.

So get up and out. You want to dive into their world? How can you say that when you haven’t even seen your own?

Look up! Do you see the full moon that so many legends are spun around? Would you like to touch the stars that so many myths rang about? Do you see the mountains that giants used to play on? Do you listen to the whispering of the trees? The songs of the wind? The roaring of the sea? Do you hear the groaning of the woods? Those trees, do they move in your book? Walk to face Saruman?

What are they facing now?

Your world is just as magnificent as the one you read about.
The people are just as brilliant.
Now it’s your turn. You want to be the hero or the heroine in your life?
Well what are you waiting for?

You are millennium old stardust, formed by time itself.
You have iron in your blood and calcium in your bones.

Don’t tell me that you don’t have it in yourself to be the hero you read about.

You are a force of nature.

And no one can take that away. No one but yourself.

So stop doubting yourself and get out there.


Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers

 I solemnly swear that I am up to no good…