what am i going to do with this boy

ask-offduty-borsalino  asked:

11, 35, 88, 101

11: Favorite song?

Recently I’ve been listening to a LOT of Vocaloid soooo probably….                  2D dream fever, Raspberry Monster, The Snow White Princess Is… and some more … a LOT more ahahah

35: Am I excited about anything?

I am very exited about my amazing followers, that’s for sure! Very exited about bed too lol

88: What makes me really angry?

…People who do not accept what other people think. Like, It’s totally fine to have other opinions but.. some people force their opinions on other people because they don’t like the other’s opinion.. and it just makes me mad??? 

Also being around irl people for a long time.. i like being alone and going here with you guys :3c

101: Who do I get on with better, girls or boys?

When I was younger I used to get along better with boys but right now it really depends on the person rather than their gender. I don’t mind if anyone is a boy or a girl, as long as we get along or whatever ;)

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

the signs as ways i've answered "are you a boy or a girl?"
  • Aries: fuck if i know
  • Taurus: i am groot
  • Gemini: what are my other options?
  • Cancer: i am a train wreck and train wrecks do not have genders, they only have pain
  • Leo: go ask a magic eight ball, you'll get an easier answer
  • Virgo: the gender binary is a lie and i'm too busy saving $15 or more on my car insurance to talk about it
  • Libra: i'm fine, how are you?
  • Scorpio: *doesn't answer, pretends they never asked*
  • Sagittarius: i'm a racoon living in your attic
  • Capricorn: are you professor oak?
  • Aquarius: bitch i might be
  • Pisces: no. no, no, no....no.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴀʙʏ sᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ!


      PREGNANCY -

❝ We’re going to be parents! ❞
❝ Did you feel him/her/them kick!? ❞
❝ Do you want to feel the baby? ❞
❝ I’m pregnant…and it’s yours. ❞
❝ Do you think I’ll make a good mother/father? ❞
❝ What are you hoping for? ❞
❝ I feel so nauseous today… ❞
❝ What should we name him/her/them? ❞
❝ How many diapers do you think we’ll need? ❞
❝ You’re crying over a puppy? ❞
❝ Is just strawberry okay? They didn’t have strawberries and cream. ❞
❝ I’ve read this book four times I’m basically an expert by now. ❞
❝ Boy or girl? ❞
❝ Wait, do we have everything on this list I found? ❞
❝ Can you put the crib together? I’m so tired. ❞
❝ This kid can come out anytime it’s ready. ❞      
❝ You’re glowing. ❞
❝ How far along are you? ❞
❝ Please don’t freak out…but I’m pregnant. I SAID DON’T FREAK OUT. ❞
❝ Hospital. Now! ❞
❝ I think that was a contraction… ❞
❝ The due date’s not until next week! ❞

     NEW BABY -

❝ S/He’s your kid before five in the morning. ❞
❝ We need to go on a diaper run again. ❞
❝ We’re out of formula–where’s the other can!? ❞
❝ Ugh, s/he spit up on my good shirt! ❞
❝ S/he won’t stop crying, I don’t know what to do. ❞        
❝ Please take him/her, I’m going to go crazy with the screaming. ❞
❝ Is it even possible for a baby to scream so much!? ❞
❝ Should they be breathing like that? ❞
❝ I need to go check on the baby. ❞    
❝ If you never put him/her down you’ll spoil him/her. ❞
❝ Daddy/Mommy’s little girl/boy! ❞
❝ Good morning, little spawn of Satan! ❞
❝ Shhh, they’re finally asleep.  ❞    
❝ Dammit, I just got them to sleep! ❞
❝ Be careful, s/he’s a hair puller…. ❞
❝ Where’s the pacifier!? ❞
❝ I can’t find his/her blanket, please help me. ❞    
❝ I’ve been up since four this morning, it’s your turn. ❞
❝ I found you and the baby sleeping in the recliner at six am and it was so precious. ❞
❝ Stroller, diaper bag, playpen, blanket, bottles, what else do we need before we go to your parents? ❞
❝ A babysitter!? Are you insane!? ❞    
❝ You’re going to spoil them. ❞    
❝ We can’t go out with the baby, that’s just asking for trouble. ❞
❝ Baby’s awake… ❞
❝ S/he’s so precious…. ❞
❝ This is our son/daughter…. ❞
❝ We make damn beautiful babies. ❞
❝ Look at his/her little feet… ❞
❝ S/he has your eyes. ❞
❝ Do not dress him/her in that! ❞    
❝ Be careful with him/her! ❞
❝ Did you remember to pack his/her toy? ❞
❝ His/her first tooth came in today. Already bit me.❞
❝ Did you hear that? That was a cough.❞           

        CHILDREN -

❝ The kids won’t stop fighting. ❞
❝ We should have another. ❞
❝ Stop giving them dessert before dinner! ❞
❝ You’re going to spoil them rotten… ❞
❝ You need to learn not to fall for the puppy dog eyes.  ❞
❝ I just love them so much!? ❞    
❝ How are we going to break the news to them that they’re getting a brother/sister? ❞
❝ Their screaming woke the baby… ❞    
❝ I’m a horrible mother/father… ❞
❝ How can you make the baby hush and I can’t? ❞
❝ Was that a word!? ❞
❝ His/her first word better not be a damn cuss word! ❞    
❝ You look exhausted. ❞
❝ First steps! First steps! ❞
❝ Watch, s/he can roll over now! ❞
❝ I don’t want anyone else watching our baby/children. ❞    
❝ They totally wanted to build the pillow fort, not me. ❞
❝ Can you manage dropping them off? ❞
❝ Damn terrible twos, right? ❞
❝ How did they outgrow their clothes so fast!? ❞   
❝ I think we make damn good parents. ❞
❝ Why are both you and the baby crying? ❞
❝ Here, I’ll watch him/her, you go relax. ❞
❝ I haven’t been able to put her/him down all morning/day/night. ❞    
❝ S/he doesn’t want me, s/he wants you! ❞
❝ S/he just ran into the coffee table, don’t worry. ❞
❝ Stop fighting with me in front of the kid/s! ❞
❝ We shouldn’t have dressed the twins in matching outfits… ❞    
❝ Can I hold him/her? ❞
❝ S/he has separation anxiety because you never put them down! ❞
❝ My mother always hoped my kids would end up like me…I’m so sorry. ❞
❝ I wouldn’t let them do ____, so they started crying. ❞  
❝ Oh, s/he’s just a little angel! ❞
❝ Hello, little one! ❞
❝ I can babysit if you’d like. ❞
❝ Guess who broke your favorite ____. ❞  
❝ Finally got him/her/them to sleep. ❞
❝ It’s your turn to put him/her/them to bed. ❞
❝ I hate bath time. ❞
❝ Can you help me with the kids for five goddamn minutes!? ❞
 
❝ I think ____ is jealous of the baby. ❞
❝ ___ just hit ___, can you do something!? ❞
❝ Is locking kids in the basement against the law!? ❞
❝ They’re cute when they’re quiet. ❞
❝ Maybe taking them to the park will let out all their energy. ❞
❝ _____ colored on the walls today… ❞
❝ Look at the mess they made again… ❞      
                     

Drarry: A Summary
  • Harry calls Draco “Dragon Boy” because his name means dragon in Greek (from Latin).
  • Draco does not appreciate this and proceeds to call him “Henry” because Harry is a nickname for the German name Henry.
  • Harry also, does not appreciate his pet name.
  • Thus began the list of names they call each other.
    • “Ferret.”
    • “Scarhead.”
    • “Pretty boy.”
    • “WHOREcrux!”
    • “I’m a whore for you, blondie.”
  • Harry holds doors open for Draco. He also pulls out chairs for him.
  • Because Draco is a, “Pretty pretty princess that deserves to be treated like one.”
    • “Cough cough.”
    • “What?”
    • “Cough cough… the door?”
    • “I’m carrying all the groceries, Draco. I don’t have a free hand.”
    • “Well, put some down and open it.”
    • “Are you-”
    • “Yes, Potter, I am serious. Do I look like I open my own doors?”
  • Draco bought them a kitten.
  • He named her Rosie Malfoy-Potter.
  • She’s a little pure white kitty with clear blue eyes, and the constant need to lick Harry’s nose.
  • Harry didn’t know he was going to come home to his boyfriend holding a tiny animal, letting it crawl over his arms and onto their couch.
  • He was shocked, and angry at first.
  • But not even the Boy-Who-Lived can resist a kitten.
    • “Look at her! She’s nuzzling my hand!”
    • “Yes, I see that.”
    • “Isn’t she the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
    • “It’s a cat.”
    • “No, it’s our daughter!”
    • “No, it’s a cat.”
    • “Come here, let me just…”
  • Draco placed the fluffy ball of fur in Harry’s arms. She quickly warmed up to him and began snuggling into his chest.
  • Harry picked her up, pulling her in front of his face.
  • Draco pushed the kitten closer, as she cautiously sniffed his nose.
  • And licked it.
    • “See? She loves you.”
    • “….”
    • “Harry? Please, I’ll be the housewife and take care of the children. Let me have her? Let us have her?”
    • “….”
    • “Honey?”
    • “Alright, she can stay.”
  • Harry’s a workaholic.
  • Sometimes he takes extra shifts because he wants to. Not for the money.
  • This annoys Draco.
  • Before they moved in together, he didn’t know how often Harry could throw himself into his work.
  • Saving lives, trying to protect the world from forces that would never cease.
  • Sometimes he needed to be reminded that not everyone can be saved. There’s more to life than being the hero.
  • Draco was a good reminder. Like an alarm.
  • He would go off at a certain time, whenever he needed him. Whenever Harry stayed up for forty-eight hours without sleep working on a case, he was there. Ready to owl him in sick, make sure he slept that night, he got food in the morning, he made sure Harry knew he couldn’t be there for everyone. The only way to stay sane as an Auror is to know when to go home. 
    • “Harry, you can’t keep going like this.”
    • “I have to finish looking over this file. If I can find out where this kid is then-”
    • “Harry Potter!”
    • “Give that back!”
    • “No, you listen to me. You can’t keep doing this.”
    • “Doing what?”
    • “Not eating, not sleeping, not talking, only working. It’s not good for you. I’m worried. You come home, but you’re not home. You’re at work. We haven’t had sex in three weeks. You haven’t had a full meal in three weeks. Mrs. Weasley flooed wondering where you were at dinner this Sunday. You know what I told her? You were hooked on this case. Addicted. This is an addiction, Harry. You’re addicted to saving people. Addicted to helping. Yeah, well you can’t save everyone, Potter! If you’re going to have a fucking hero complex then why don’t you save the ones who really matter in your life. I’ve woken up screaming and crying twice this month, and where were you? Not next to me, not where I needed you. I’ve needed saving. I love you, you stupid prick. I fucking love you. I fucking care about you. Please, for fuck’s sake, don’t do this to yourself.To us.”
  • He stopped bringing his work home after that.
27 Dress Code Violations

@jilychallenge 04/2017 | @bantasticbeasts vs @anxiouspotter

Muggle AUs | “i get dress coded so you give me your jacket and we protest unfair regulations for girls together/you sass the teacher about how distracted you are by my shoulders”

Word Count: 2500

special shoutout to @jiilys. solidarity, sister

AO3


i.

She walks into English fifteen minutes late, wearing both a deeply unflattering smock and a scowl. Neither are an especially new look on her.

“Vector,” she says under her breath, as an answer to Mary McDonald’s unspoken question. It’s the answer to every question in the room. Ms Vector is notorious among them all for her very strict adherence to the school’s dress code.

“Yes, Miss Evans’ entrance was very exciting, but I’ll have your attention back to the lesson now, please,” says Ms McGonagall. James snaps back to attention. It’s for the best.

ii.

“Here,” James says, shrugging off his jacket and thrusting it toward Lily. She gives him this look like, fuck off, and James has to bite his tongue to stop from aggravating her. “They’re doing uniform checks up the hall. Just put it on.”

Evans gives him a very strange look, and it takes him a second to realise that it’s neutral.

She looks good in his jacket.

iii. 

Every third dress code violation results in a lunch time detention. It’s only October, and Lily’s already had six. She doesn’t look at James as she takes the seat three ahead and one to the left of him.

iv.

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the classroom, and McGonagall isn’t planning on looking up - it sounds like it came from the general vicinity of Potter and Black, and that’s certainly not a situation she wants to engage with - but the entire class is already turned around to see what the fuss is.

She strides down the aisle between the desks, and is about three years past surprised to find James Potter lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling, glasses knocked aside.

“Am I boring you so much that you decided to take a nap?” she asks, and James gives this wicked smile, and here we go–

“Sorry, Miss, I can’t get up. It’s Evans’ shoulders - they’re overwhelming me. I simply can’t do anything until she covers them up. Sirius, tell me when it’s safe.”

He’s a funny boy, she’ll give him that. “Potter, get up. This is hardly the time for foolishness.”

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youtube

TRANSLATING FAIRY TALES CHALLENGE
YOUSEF: What’s up, man? Ok, ok, ok, stop, stop, stop.

[HEY BRISKEBY]

ELIAS: What’s up, people?

YOUSEF: Are you doing well?

ELIAS: Welcome back!

YOUSEF: Hi, hi.

ELIAS: Hope you’ve had a nice day so far and don’t forget that even though you’re in your PJs, without makeup, without anything, you still look good.

YOUSEF: But what are we doing today?

ELIAS: Today, we’re just going to joke around a bit. I found an old book, so I thought we’d read it in different languages. Adam! Pass me the book. The red one, down there.

MUTASIM: That book.

MIKAEL: Get the book, man.

ELIAS: The red one that sticks out.. Yeah, that’s the one.

YOUSEF: Hush.. The book is by Asbjørnsen & Moe*.

ADAM: The big children’s fairy tale book.

YOUSEF: We’re looking forward to it.

ELIAS: This is the book. I don’t know if you can see it, but here it is.

MUTASIM: Hold it straight, boys. Like that.

ELIAS: So we’ll start.. Just say stop. I’ll start and you just say stop.

MIKAEL & MUTASIM: Stop!

YOUSEF: Are we going to translate too?

THE BOYS: Yes! That’s the point.

ELIAS: Once upon a time there was a house mouse and a mountain mouse who met in the forest.

MUTASIM: Give it here.

ELIAS: Once upon a time there was a house mouse and a mountain mouse who met in the forest.

ELIAS: In British. Mikael, just take over. Once upon a time there was a house mouse and a mountain mouse who met in the forest.

MIKAEL: What the hell is a house mouse?

MUTASIM: Are you stupid?

MIKAEL: Am I going to do it like.. really posh?

ELIAS: Ok, do it in Turkish. “Blessed be the work”, said the house mouse. “Will I meet family here, so far out in the country?” she said.

YOUSEF: *Translates to Turkish*

ADAM: What are you doing, man? Come on.

MUTASIM: It’s good, though.

ELIAS: Take another story and I’ll translate it into Arabic.

YOUSEF: Mutta got a 6 in Norwegian.

ELIAS: Come on.

ADAM: Mutta.

MUTASIM: Once upon a time, there was a queen who was out driving.

ELIAS: Ok. *Translates into arabic*

MUTASIM: It was during winter.

ADAM: Let me do one in French. Let me just check if I can do it.

ELIAS: French?

MIKAEL: When she was on her way, she started bleeding from her nose and had to get out of the sled.

ADAM: *Names French footballers*

ADAM & ELIAS: *Speak French to each other*

ADAM: You don’t know French!!

ELIAS: Let’s wrap it up?

YOUSEF: Yeah.

ELIAS: Let’s be serious. Do you have anything to add?

YOUSEF: Me? I have nothing to add.

ELIAS: Thanks for watching, don’t forget to like and subscribe. Talk to you later!

[HEY BRISKEBY]

YOUSEF: Did you turn on the camera?

[Norwegian men who gathered fairy tales from all over Norway and wrote them down.]

friendship bracelets // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N discover that true love isn’t anything like they expected it to be

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut

Masterlist

When he was 3 years old, he watched in amazement as the big truck pulled up to the curb of the suburban neighborhood he called home. With his nose pressed against the glass he watched two men step out of the truck and start unloading boxes onto the driveway. The simple action fascinated him for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The sun caught the exterior of the bright red minivan that pulled into the driveway, causing him to squint. He couldn’t believe his eyes when a girl hopped out of the backseat.

“Woah.” He mumbled against the glass, his hot breath causing it to fog up. Quickly wiping it away, he watched as she danced around the lawn while the rest of her family started moving boxes. Her pigtails bounced behind her as she ran around.

“Stiles? What are you doing?” His dad asked curiously. Before he could answer, his father noticed the moving truck and family moving in across the street. “Wanna go say hi?” His father offered, placing a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. Nodding furiously, he smiled up at his father. 

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What’s something from the set that you would have liked to take with you?

William Daniels: How about the fence? I did a lot of scenes over the fence. I said to Michael, “How many scenes am I going to be doing over this fence?” He said, “Hopefully a lot!” Talking to my neighbors, because they lived right next door, so that was an obvious place for us to set up scenes. The fence, I’d take the fence and put it in my backyard.

Did you ever think your role of Mr. Feeny would have such a strong impact on an entire generation?

WD: Not in my wildest imagination, and I’m still surprised. I remember we were in New York and we were coming out of the theater after a matinee and there was a bus full of kids. They came out of the bus as I passed them going down Eighth Avenue, and they started yelling, “Feeny! Feeny!” Well, the brave one that I am, I ran around the block just to get away from them. There was a whole bus of them yelling “Feeny!” while coming after me — a bus load! I just ran.

What was your favorite piece of advice or quote that Mr. Feeny ever said?

WD: I spoke to the class and I said to them, “Dream, try, and do good.” Boy, I was close to tears, frankly — it had been seven seasons. But that was it, that is what I’ll always remember, yes.


William Daniels [aka Mr. Feeny] looks back at Boy Meets World.

Seriously, some of y'all maknae line stans are so annoying. This could be the chance for J-Hope, the best dancer of BTS (that was literally said by all of them) to go to Hit The Stage but no. The maknae line has already a lot of opportunities compared to the hyung line and you don’t even want to give the hyung line a chance to show what they can do.

Envy

Originally posted by darkness-on-me

Loki x Reader

Part Two

“You cannot come any further.” A voice drifted through the dull air to greet Loki who had given up on figuring out who was coming and going.


“I will not let him out I just wish to speak with him.” The sound of your voice sent a jolt through Loki, eyes wide and alert as he listened to you.


“We cannot let you in.” The guard insisted.


“And I will not leave until you do!” You sounded furious which amused Loki, recalling the few occasions growing up when he had irritated you to anger, each time you’d missed him by a considerable distance which only made it more infuriating when he teased you.

Keep reading

SKAM: 4.01 - Am I Late?

Am I late?

 Prayer reminder app: [It’s time for Duhr]

 [Join the theme night in the mosque on Friday, about the woman’s role in Islam]

 [Is Jamilla coming?]

 [Sana]

[I don’t think so]

[I’ll be there <3]

EVAK: [incomprehensible, cute mumbling]

EVEN: Oh, now you’re here?

SANA: Am I late?  

ISAK: We’re done.

SANA: Noooo, sorry, took the tram the wrong way and -

MADHI: Heard that one before.

MAGNUS: Heard what?

MADHI: Took the tram the wrong way.

JONAS: You?

ISAK: Isn’t that what you usually do?

MADHI: Yeah, that’s what I usually do, when I can’t be assed to come to yours.

ISAK: Well, then you can come join me and Even, and help us unpack.

SANA: That sounds like a ton of fun, but I am super busy with the girls.

ISAK: Go on.

MAGNUS: Uh, Sana can you tell Vilde that I miss her? Already.

BOYS: Hæ?

MAGNUS: No, what I meant was, you tell them you miss them and they go aww.

EVEN: Only with girls.

ISAK: You’re cute together.

EVEN: Yeah.  

MAGNUS: Cuter than the two of you.

EVAK: Ohhhhhhhh.

EVEN: You wish.

VILDE: … No, there’s something about the ocean blue color… Yeah.

CHRIS: Ocean blue? Like is it called that blue?

NOORA: Royal blue? No, royal blue is like - [points at Chris’s jacket]

VILDE: No, it’s like Marbella Beach.  

CHRIS: This is royal blue.

NOORA: Marbella beach?

VILDE: Yeah, it’s the kind of beach you see in Marbella.

NOORA: Have you been there a lot?

SANA: Halla.

GIRLS: Hi!

SANA: What’s up?

EVA: Noora has her room back!

VILDE: But what I was going to say was that -

EVA: Pizza?

VILDE: - yesterday we tried a new position that we found on a website -

EVA: We have beef too!

VILDE: - where I sit myself over him just like Cowgirl, but I reverse so it’s reverse Cowgirl, so he sits. It’s a little uncomfortable in the beginning, because I felt like he saw right up, because like his head is like - if we did it right anyway. And that just felt so so good, because it hit something, it hit the g-spot.

CHRIS: There’s no g-spot on the top side.

VILDE: No, I heard that the g-spot is in the anus.

EVA: Isn’t that with guys?

VILDE: It’s pretty normal that you have multiple g-spots. But anyway the point is I’ve never had it so good with anyone before, I’ve never come as much as I do when I’m with Magnus. I just come and come and come and come and come -

SANA: Don’t you have any boundaries for what it’s okay to share?

VILDE: What do you mean?

SANA: Do you have to share every detail of your sex life with Magnus?

VILDE: I understand that it’s difficult for you to listen to because you can’t have sex -

SANA: I can have sex, Vilde. I just choose not to.

VILDE: Yeah, I’m just saying that it’s okay if you get sexually frustrated.

SANA: I’m not sexually frustrated! It’s not as if I go around thinking about boys and sex all the time and feel like I’m missing out. I just think that sex should be something nice between you and Magnus, and not the whole world.

NOORA: Would anyone like some tea?

CHRIS: Yes!

VILDE: Yes, let’s do that.

EVA: Okay, I have to tell you something, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s true. But I heard William has a new girlfriend in London.

VILDE: What? Are you kidding?

EVA: Chris told me. Should I say something to her?

SANA: Of course you should say something.

EVA: But shouldn’t William be the one to tell her?

SANA: Well, yeah, but he obviously hasn’t.

EVA: And I don’t know for sure that it’s true. And I just don’t understand the thing between William and Noora. Are they like together? Or not?

NOORA: What’s up? What are you talking about?

VILDE: Anal sex. Magnus and I are considering trying it. Have you tried it?

NOORA: No.

VILDE: So you and William never -

NOORA: Vilde! No.

EVA: Apropos William, how is he?

NOORA: Good.  

CHRIS: Yeah, we’ve never really understood the thing between you. Like if you’re together or not?

NOORA: I mean, it’ll always be me and William.

Dear future daughter,


I wanted to write this as a sort of time capsule, so that you would know how your mother was at sixteen and what I expect of you as my daughter.

I love music and singing, and I expect I’ll put you for music classes early on, unless you don’t like singing and composing which is completely okay.
You can quit and join karate or anything you want.
I won’t force you, instead I’ll let you find your own path in life, like my mom let me.

You wanna ride horses? Cool. I liked that too.
You wanna go for kickboxing and learn how to defend yourself? Cool.
You wanna do ballet and enthrall the audience with your magnificent coordination? Amazing.

Anything you want to do babe, I am hundred percent right behind you.

I am big on reading as well, and this may sound odd, but unlike dancing or singing, I would very much adore it if you loved reading as much as me.
I will introduce it gently of course, by telling you adventure stories I wrote for you, about bears and fairies, and any thing you like.
Then I would introduce all sorts of new books, the same ones my mom introduced to me,Malory Towers, St. Claires, Tin-Tin’s, Secret Seven and so on.
If you don’t like reading, I understand.
I hope you do, though.

I am really sorry but you may or may not have my acne.
I am so sorry, I know how much you suffer trying to talk to that cute boy who’s the next Zac Efron, or how hard you try to cover it up.
Or how much you cry over something that someone said about your skin.
I wish I could change things in that department but I can’t. You have combination skin just like me, and it only gets better everyday, and soon enough a beautiful sense of maturity and compassion will bloom, like those Violets you adore.

You might deal with a lot of appearance issues, and trust me, even all the way back in 2017, we still have them.
Let me tell you this, your weight is just the relationship you have with gravity.
It doesn’t define your intellect, beauty, the amount of love you can give to the universe around you.
W=m x g
That’s all weight is.
So eat that pizza, gobble that pancake and never starve yourself.
I am not saying don’t be healthy and exercise, oh no, but its okay to be kind to yourself once in a while.

Career.
Tricky.
I am not going to say I am not going to behind your grades, or behind you to keep them up, but I will give you a chance to improve if you mess up, which you will and thats okay.
That’s life.
To me, do what you love.
Do something that keeps you happy, something that keeps you interested.
Do something that makes you excited to walk into work.
I hope I am doing the same honestly.
To me, education is not just about books and grades, and the colleges you get into.
I’ve probably taken you to so many places in the world, and all that you’ve learned, all the food you’ve eaten, all the cultures you’ve experienced, that is what you have truly experienced. Of course, it won’t pay your bills and it sure as hell won’t help you get to college, but it will make you better citizens of this earth, better human beings, more accepting, less judgmental.

Love.
Oh my, honey, you are going to fall so hard.
For a broken boy with broken promises.
With the talented singer.
With the most popular boy in school.
With someone half way across the world.

In the end, after everyone, you will realize you don’t need to settle for someone who makes you feel terrible about yourself, you just need someone who treats you like the princess you are.
Trust me, its not the prettiest or the most popular that gets to be the keeper of your precious heart.

Of course, if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship, that’s great.
You’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anyone to tell her how downright amazing she is.
(feminist alert! haha)

Trust me.
They are going to break you, shatter you, make you feel like you can never love again.
You will love again though.
Again and again.

(You can change the genders above to suit you)
I expect by the time you are old enough to realize who you love, who you’re attracted to, it won’t matter.
I hope for Goodness sakes, we live in progressive times.
If we don’t, I will love you no matter what, if you’re bi, demi, gender fluid or anyone.
I will love you the same.
Coming out will be the easiest thing you will ever have to do, I promise.

Religion
Well, I am an agnostic, but if you decide that you want to follow a religion I will allow it.
Preferably Hinduism because that would make my mom and dad, (your grandma and grandpa happy) but if its Buddhism, Christianity or any religion, be my guest.
Explore, decide and tell me.
I will respect you if you decide to believe in a higher power, because I think that takes a certain amount of strength.

I might get mad at you, scream, cry and you have to realize I am not perfect.
Far from it.
I just want you to be a nice, respectful and loving human being.
Your grades and talents are secondary to me.
Sure I might not buy everything you want me to, but I promise I will provide you with everything you need.

I need to leave now, but it’s been great getting to know you,
this is sixteen year old me signing out.

someone: oh my god were you CRYING???

me, not even 4 minutes after a full on breakdown: 

i was looking at the mspa wiki and

this fucking bit. this piece of knowledge gets me every goddamn time i remember it. we dont know how long dave and karkats snapchat streak is but its probably somewhere in the hundreds. for years these boys have been snapchatting each other every single day, without pause. FOR YEARS.

they fucking live with each other

they, presumably, as they both have the same job and spend their free time going on digs with jade and hanging out with mutual friends, spend just about all of their time together

what the fuck are they sending each other. do they snapchat each other while theyre in the same room? while the others in the bathroom? what are they even sending each other? what the fuck kind of content is being shared between these two ridiculous boys?

andrew didnt give me a fuckin davekat kiss but he did give me a canon davekat snapchat streak and im so fucking bothered by it, im so upset, what is going on, why are they like this. they fucking LIVE WITH EACH OTHER. what are they DOING. @ andrew i need answers fucking Please

@l0vegl0wsinthedark there ya go;) stupid as I am I couldn’t figure out how to add photos to the original text post from @incorrect-drarry-quotes lol -> -> ->

Pansy: Don’t let Draco fool you. He’s not that scary. He used to do ballet.
Harry: No way!
Draco: Which gave me the physical skills I need to strangle you with my feet.

Straight White Boy Problem #987

last time I smoked weed (two years ago lol) I got really existential while listening to Childish Gambino when i was at Ryan’s house and i took a couple hits and was like what the hell am I going to do with my life? Am I going to find my soulmate some day? Do my friends actually value my feelings and do they value me for who I am or are friends just using me for their own gain? Is it okay to root for the New England Patriots even though I’m not from New England? All these questions were going through my mind and I was breaking down. I didn’t know what was going on I didn’t know I had all of these pent up emotions that were being brought out. I was scared. I wanted to talk about my dilemnas with Ryan but the last time i tried that, he made fun of me I need to start letting myself feel emotions rather than smoke my troubles away. So I quit weed. Granted, I still hang out with Ryan but it’s just not the same bc I dont smoke anymore :/