you know who their staring at

anonymous asked:

Hi Alice!!! I just read your Edmund and Caspian friendship hc and loved it! And I was just wondering if you have some hc's about Edmund's infamous suitors? We always see Susan with her suitors but not so much as Ed with his :) Thanks ❤️

Hehe, thank you!!! And yesssss, oh my gosh, can you imagine? 

  • Edmund’s first suitor appeared when he was only twelve 
  • He had a bit of a growth spurt, and puberty was starting to hit
  • And he caught the eye of this princess who was 11 
  • There was only a year difference, but she had a hopeless crush on him
  • She would follow him around EVERYWHERE 
  • During important meetings, she would attend despite not having the need to just to stare at Edmund 
  • Edmund didn’t actually know what was up until he told Peter how this girl was creeping him out, and Peter just laughed 
  • He told Edmund exactly what was happening, and Edmund had never turned so red from embarrassment 
  • Thankfully, Peter was more in the spotlight and his next suitor didn’t appear until he was sixteen 
  • She was a lady from another smaller province and she had a very…peculiar way of complimenting him 
  • “Oh, Edmund…your brown eyes remind me of the twigs in my garden.” 
  • “My lord, your skin is as white as paper…it makes you so beautiful and fragile.” 
  • “King Edmund, your ears are quite outstanding aren’t they!” 
  • He was never quite sure if she was insulting him or complimenting him
  • Edmund tried to squash her advances by pushing one of his knights onto her 
  • Turns out his knight was far more interested and actually ended up courting the girl 
  • His next notable suitor came when he was eighteen
  • He had just come of age in Narnia, and a ball was held in his honor 
  • He got the usual attention from young ladies, but at that point he had learned how to politely decline 
  • Or sick Lucy and Susan on them–both were effective 
  • One widow in her forties seemed to wave them off and give him some peace at the ball 
  • She was really sweet to him, and Edmund pitied her since she had just lost her husband and never had the chance to have children 
  • She extended her visit at Cair, and she and Edmund actually got along well 
  • He thought of her as a mother figure…but she–er–had some other intentions 
  • It wasn’t until Susan gently broke the news to Edmund 
  • He was sooo horrified, and slightly disgusted
  • After some help from Peter, the lady finally left Edmund alone 
  • After the initial shock died down, his siblings had a good laugh about it…and he couldn’t help joining along 
  • When he was in his early twenties, he had one suitor that nearly caused a fire
  • She was not very nice at all, but she appeared to be in front of Edmund 
  • She flirted with him horribly…honestly, she was very bad
  • Edmund tried so many things…gently letting her down, bluntly letting her down
  • He tried to get Susan, Lucy, and even Peter to discourage her 
  • He got so desperate, he asked one of his good lady friends to act as his suitor for a short while 
  • Not even that pushed her off 
  • In the end, he went to her father and told him what had happened 
  • His suitor came storming in a horrifically ugly dress with so many feathers and claimed that she would start a war based on unrequited love
  • Of course, the others in the room chuckled at her expense
  • Her hand motions grew more animated, and she didn’t see the lit candle that caught fire on the feather from her sleeve 
  • She started running around wildly, and would’ve caught the room on fire if Edmund didn’t throw a glass of water on her singed sleeve
  • She was SOOO angry, but everyone in the room started laughing at the ridiculous situation 
  • Her father apologized to Edmund for her behavior, but she never visited Cair again
  • None of the Pevensies could say they minded 


Sorry ya’ll. My brain came up with some strange things just now. Haha…but I hope it made you laugh a little. 

Can we have a long post with Edmund’s suitor stories? Cuz honestly they would be hilarious.

chikach00  asked:

26. never have I ever

Still laughing that you put this in my inbox ;).

..

Don’t ever let Cana construct a drinking game of never have I ever, it was probably the worst idea they had have since that incident at Lucy’s house on Christmas. Of course they do not speak of that horrific, unless they want to feel the wrath of Erza. Speaking of which currently Lucy was currently being backed into a corner.

Her guild mates looked at her in amazement as she took another shot, of the rum that Mira had provided them with. The question in particular that set them all off was that their not so innocent celestial wizard, had been involved in a threesome. The question is with who and when?

“Damn, Lucy didn’t know you were that freaky in the sheets.” Cana said as she took another swig of her beer.

Said girl bit her lip in embarrassment as everyone stared at her, her eyes flickered over towards the pink haired monster, whose idea it was to begin with. He just looked back at her a blank look on his face. She sighed, as she caught the look on Erza and Mira’s faces. She was not sure how to take the two blushing girl’s expressions as a good thing or a bad one.

“So tell us, Lucy who we’re the two lucky souls that got to bang the blonde bombshell?” Cana asked yet again a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Lucy gulped at Cana’s smirk, crap she knew didn’t she the thing is how did she know. Lucy along with Natsu and the other unnamed person, who wished to remain anonymous for the time being. Swore to secrecy after their little rendezvous, last summer they had not spoken of it since. Not that Lucy did not think about it at all, it was because she was afraid of this reaction from her friends.

“Well unfortunately those involved wish to remain anonymous, and when and where it happened is none of anyone’s concern.” She said trying to come the blush that was spreading down her neck.

“Hmmm if you say so.” Cana said as everyone decided to move on with the game.

Lucy sighed as she looked over at Natsu yet again, but he was already staring back at her. His expression was yet again unreadable, which made her uneasy because she wasn’t sure how he would react to her revealing the activities they had participated in. Even if she didn’t say his name, she was sure they were pretty aware he had been involved.

Finally after a while of just staring at each other he finally did something, and it was not what she was expecting. He smirked at her, his eyes narrowed at her as another blush spread across her cheeks. A tingling sensation spread throughout her body, making her shiver at his hooded eyes. As he looked her up and down his gaze stopped on her face once again, before it shifted slightly to stare at something behind her.

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows wonder what could have caught his attention, that’s when realization hit her it was not a what but a who. Natsu’s smile widened as someone landed their hand on Lucy’s shoulder. Moving her gaze slightly she saw the familiar manicured hand of her best friend.

Turning her head she saw the smiling faces of both Levy and Gajeel, as the two dragon slayers shared a knowing smirk as the two girl’s just giggled. She never gave the exact number of how many people had been involved.

….

I blame @snogfairy for this lol

anonymous asked:

If I kill myself then could I just spy on people as a spirit or something?

First of all, if this is a joke it isn’t funny. I take any kind of light remark about suicide seriously. If it isn’t a joke, message me and I’ll talk to you. That goes for anyone who is struggling.

Second, we don’t know what makes people into ghosts or what makes them into spirits. Ghosts wander around mindlessly, not knowing they’re dead, and doing what they would have normally done in life. It’s not a great way to spend a supposed eternity. 

Any spirit can “spy” on people, but it must get pretty annoying after a while. Spying on someone would usually mean you’re watching them stare at a screen for hours. Not to mention that everyone is surrounded by spirits, usually spirits who are deceased family members or loved ones, so if you want to spy on some teenage girl in the shower get ready to meet her angry great-grandparents.

reallyandrogynoussweets  asked:

So I was talking to my friend (the same one who used GregorZal as motivation for me) and I said, "Look at this Haiz art, you know Haiz, right?" and she gave me a blank stare until I said, "You know, the GregorZal artist!" and her eyes lit up like stars.

knnsdfmkjsdhkjsdksd

I AM SLIGHTLY EMBARASSED BUT MOSTLY DEEPLY HONORED

today’s mood is an empty, hollow feeling in your chest that trickles down to fill up your tummy. it munches away on your insides like caterpillars crawling on leaves, and you wonder if it would eat up the beating thing keeping you alive. youre partly hoping it would. youre partly hoping it would not. who knows, maybe it’ll chow on your beating thing after all, and you end up still standing even though you shouldnt be.

(you try to deny that it already feels like it.)

so you lie back in bed and stare at your walls, and imagine theyre a pretty sky blue instead of a dull, moody one. if you look long enough, a sun pops up in a corner to shine down on you, and then there are little hills in the distance and a tree with a sturdy swing beckoning you forward. you think of nice, lovely days of sunshine and flowers and the wind kissing you on the cheek, and you think of being able to breathe. what a concept. sure sounds like a good concept.

you dont realise youve closed your eyes until something tickles your skin, and you sit up to a gentle breeze welcoming itself into your room. the sun peeks down at you even through the crack in your window; it feels like theres a pull there, tugging you up and forward and on your feet and the next thing you know youre pushing your windows wide open, and–

what a lovely day. what a beautiful, lovely day, bright and shining even as the world falls apart all around you. you suck in a breath and let it fill your lungs, and the feeling in your chest scatters and gets the hell out of there, and your heart sighs in relief.

and here you are, breathing.

anonymous asked:

Hello Ghost! Lately I'm questioning my mental health more and more, especially after reading about some disorders. I don't know if it's just me seeking for an excuse, or some problem with my mind, when I, say, can't concentrate on reading/writing some long text. Or when I feel terrible apathy and just stare into the wall or am overly anxious with bursting into tears and endlessly apologising for no reason. I feel myself a terrible person who can't do anything and blame myself of procrastinating.

nah i can guarantee you that’s not you just looking for an excuse, i think it’s definitely worth getting a professional opinion on (or if you can’t get one, doing more research - though even if you do get a professional opinion research is good anyway since even professionals can often be wrong!) hang in there pal!

head-and-heart  asked:

Hey rosy saw your tags on that gifset comparing O and Bellamy staring at the Earth, and you were speculating on what Bellamy and Raven's matching reflections might mean. Maybe it is to parallel the Blakes with BR? I've always thought Raven x Bellamy had a very sibling-like dynamic (constant bantering, but still love each other). Maybe Raven will fill that void where Octavia can't anymore (since she's in the bunker, unreachable). No idea if that's what the writers meant, just a consideration.

Yeah, that’s a thing I’m considering. I guess we’ll see what happens. They definitely have a real, strong relationship. 

You know, I was saying that I’d rather see him in a relationship with Raven, but knowing that it’s not endgame, maybe I don’t. I don’t want her to be second choice, even if they think Clarke is dead. Maybe I’d rather see him with Echo, and that not really trusting, tense relationship. I care less about echo for sure. 

areseise  asked:

📷 you know who lol

Xaithan had seen this look before. In fact, he had been the target of it often recently, starting when the little bird had begun haunting the inside his tavern over a week ago. She had easily been the most interesting (and best looking) thing staring back at him from the bar. He had turned it into a game: wondering how long she would hold up that fragile facade of indifference toward him… and in time, he grew to admire the effort she spent holding herself up under the crushing weight of his scrutiny. And then he knew he had her the moment he flashed her with a fleeting, disarming smile, and she followed him to his perch with drinks in their hands. 

He had thrown the hook, the line, but got caught up on the sinker himself. The longer she spoke to him–the more comfortable she became through liquor-soaked words and shown a sliver of trust in his presence–the more he realized the prey he was hunting was far more wounded than he had anticipated. His desire to rend her to ribbons in every sense of the word faded in light of something much more frightening to him: an instinct to protect the embers of a fiery soul nearly lost to darknesses in the world far worse than him.

He had nothing to say to the photograph as he eased the picture back into its envelope, careful not to damage its fraying edges anymore than it already was.

[ @adalea-sunglade ]

And there was nothing poetic about wanting to kill myself and writing so many suicide notes in my head explaining how sorry I was for the things I did not become. There was nothing poetic and beautiful about crying myself to sleep every night for the past 5 years hoping someone would care enough to save me. No one saved me. No one was going to save me because there is nothing poetic about thinking you can’t be saved. There is nothing poetic about staring at a blank wall for an entire day or smiling and laughing the next and having people think “oh she’s fine.” There was nothing poetic and beautiful about trying to take my own life. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about my mother having a panic attack every time I have a bad day and lock my door. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about me not taking my pills because I don’t know who I am without this sadness. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about having depression and wishing you were dead. There was nothing poetic and beautiful about my depression or anyone else’s depression nor will there ever be anything beautiful and poetic about it.
—  Fuck anyone that says it’s beautiful//Deeply Feeling Series
Shoutout

Here’s to the ones who:

  • aren’t sure of what they want to be when they grow up
  • don’t know what course they’re gonna take
  • know who they want to be but also know that their parents/family would not approve
  • don’t exactly have their life put together [and feel depressed when everyone around them look like they do]
  • feel lost, tired, and alone
  • are looking for their purpose
  • need a break every now and then
  • want something but don’t know what that something is
  • haven’t found inspiration
  • are under-appreciated
  • feel like they aren’t enough
  • turn away from their reflection
  • stare off into space
  • fidget in class
  • have mental illnesses
  • [add more]

Because you deserve as much recognition, love, and respect as anybody else. Chin up, darling~ (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

Mutually Assured Dating

‘You were singing really loudly in the shower when I broke into your apartment but then i heard you slip and crash and oh god i should probably check on you in case i get done for murder instead of just robbery’ AU


It took all of fourteen seconds for Derek to realize he was in the wrong apartment.

First, he noticed the very large and scuffed up sneakers and boots ditched haphazardly kind of near the door but half into the living room. Cora was meticulous about her shoes and kept them neatly arranged in a shoe rack right next to the door. The only time they touched the floor was when her feet were in them.

Second, the stuff. There was so much stuff everywhere; clothes thrown over the back of the couch, dishes across the coffee table and all over the kitchen counters, books on every surface, a gaming console dragging wires across the floor and surrounded by games, in cases and out of them. Cora was an unintentional minimalist, in that she threw out anything she didn’t need and lacked a single sentimental bone in her body. Derek and Laura regularly made trips to wherever she lived to save family keepsakes and memories from her ruthless cleaning sprees.

Then he noticed the manly warble coming from somewhere deeper in the apartment, and Cora’s favorite topic of rant floated lazily to the forefront of his mind.

—but my neighbor, oh my god this guy! I’m going to kill him if I ever see him in the hall! His bathroom shares a wall with my bedroom and he sings in the shower, every shower, at all hours. Literally all hours, like 4am, and he only sings Christmas carols at 4am. I’ve have Jingle Bells stuck in my head for a week! 

Shoes, stuff, singing.

This was not Cora’s apartment.

Keep reading

episode two :: Yuri realizes, suddenly and terribly, he might be a little bit in love.  


Victor doesn’t even try to go to sleep.  He just lays in bed with his laptop, watching the thirty-seven takes of Yuuri trying to get “hi, I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and I’m the Bachelor” out of his mouth.

Don’t they know who I am?” Yuuri slurs on screen.  

Yuuri, you have to put the champagne bottle down, you have to pretend to be sober,” Phichit says off camera, all authority gone from his voice.  He’s trying not to laugh.

Phichit,” Yuuri says, and he takes a big swig from the bottle, bubbles pouring down both sides of his lips. “You can’t tell me what to do.  I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and I’m the motherfucking Bachelor.

Keep reading

People often misunderstand what the old saying about a cat having nine lives means. The cats prefer to keep it a secret, as most humans can’t be trusted with information so fragile and precious, but there are exceptions.

The merchant who shares his leftover fish. The young girl that hides littler after litter of newborn ones in her room until they find new homes. The old man with scars who still has enough kindness to open his shed to let them slip in from the rain. Boys, teenagers, mothers, warriors, brothers - some are trusted.

Exceptions, yes, few nowadays and rare, but honoured all the more.

So nine lives there are indeed. Each cat is born with them and no matter the time or place, they are lost easily.

This is where the story ends for most people.

But for those who are trusted, those who wake up one morning and find a weird taste in their mouth, the scent of a forest never touched by human hands in their nose, and a strange lingering touch of whiskers on their forehead - they know the truth.

Nine lives for this world, is what all our legends used to say.

You, friend of cats, know the ancient, almost forgotten sayings.

You know of cat eyes shining in the deepest night when they shouldn’t be able to. You know of cats staring past your ear, at that forbidden spot right by the frayed corner of your vision, and you fear that if you look, your cat won’t be able to stare it into submission anymore. You don’t look. The cat purrs. You’re safe.

The kittens have all their lives still. They do not look at the edgewalking beasts that whisper through their humans’ house. It will take time until they fall, hurt, learn.

The oldest cats know so much that a touch of their paw will make an entire village shudder. Their quiet voices cast spells. Let them roam. You cannot imagine the things that flee from them as they walk in silence.

Cat friend, you know it in your heart.

You know of the paths they walk that human feet can’t find.

You know of the nights they vanish and return with the scent of blood, earth and salt in their fur, and when your fingers touch their coat, a cold shiver awakes your skin.

Sometimes, they hear things. You don’t know what, but you know enough to let them sit in front of your house or room, paws tucked under, dark stare never leaving an invisible spot in the air.

And when you float between sleep and life, when you’re unlucky enough to claw at the edge of death before you’re ready to go…

Then maybe, friend of cats, you’ll feel a brush of fur along your legs. Maybe, just before you startle with awe in your heart and wake once more, the same pair of eyes that should sleep by your side winks at you from another world.

Hogwarts Headcannons
  • Give me Dean, muggleborn that he is, imitating Steve Irwin in Care of Magical Creatures class, much to everyone's confusion except for Harry and Hermione who are. On the ground. Unable to breathe. And refusing to explain why.
  • Give me Harry, demisexual that he is, realizing that the reason he can't stop obsessing over Draco is because Draco is the one who saw - and subsequently disliked - 'Harry', and not The Boy Who Lived. Realizing that Draco was the only one to first talk to him for HIM, in that robe shop, and not his parents or fame (because even Ron and Hermione did that at first). And thus, leading to him randomly starting crying in the middle of lunch and claiming he's doomed, much to everyone's fear.
  • Give me Seamus, pyro that he is, super happy one Christmas when Hermione buys him a book on fire caution, flammable materials, and elements such as magnesium. Thus afterward, the mysterious fires that have always happened are far more safe and controlled.
  • Give me Luna, wonderful airhead that she is, being stared at as, calm as anything, she waltzes right into the Slytherin common room and starts talking to the mermaids like its absolutely normal. A first year drops a book he's staring so hard, because HOW DID SHE KNOW THE PASSWORD. Draco just sighs, gets up, goes over to her, and offers her tea.
  • Give me Draco. Who looks on as Neville offers Harry rhubarb pie that he made himself, as Harry stares forlornly at his Treacle Tart, and makes and annoyed sound. "Dammit Longbottom he hates bittersweets." The Slytherins stare and Pansy just mutters "How do you even know these things. Merlin, help him realize."
  • Give me Parvati, who is being constantly mistaken for her sister by Ron, who panics and screams "IM A LESBIAN" when it gets to be too much.
  • Give me Ron, who stares wide-eyes from a distance whenever he sees Padma from that moment on for a full week, until Padma flips out too and hexes him. Parvati awkwardly wonders why Ron starts getting scared whenever she tries to approach from then on, since she knows Ron doesn't have problems due to that sort of thing from how he handles Harry.
  • Give me the thirty or so of the school's Muggle-raised, who made the mistake of showing their folks howlers, and react accordingly whenever one of the families sends one that is just a recording of Rick Astley, or High School Musical, or spoilers for Doctor Who. And the Wizard-raised just... staring... in fear... watching their savior and multiple other students as they run around screaming and crying in an absolute panic for some reason even though it was a different student that got the weird howler.
  • Give me Harry, whose hair surprises people by being dark red like his mother's when in direct sunlight. And usually at the Weasley den they're inside, but one day Harry joins them outside for a picnic, and Molly is so confused about where Harry went to then has do do a mental tally of her children.
  • Give me George, who in the midst of the final battle, hit Lucius with an Anaticula curse, so that every spell he tries makes a duck instead. And the Death Eaters are just so confused. "Lucius... is that a duck?"
  • Give me the Gryffindor common room. The new first years suggest Monopoly for game night. The entire room goes dead silent. One first year tries to ask what they did wrong. "Never mention that game again," is the only response they get. "But why-" "NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR. WE NEVER TALK ABOUT SIXTH YEAR." Their brave upperclassman Neville yells, trembling. Hermione starts crying. Harry goes into a panic attack. Ron whispers, "There are many reasons we don't talk about sixth year. If The Incident had been the only thing that happened, we would only not talk about The Incident. Many things happened that year. Thus, we do not speak of that year, or of that game."
  • Give me McGonagall, who struggles to control the cat population, because while students are told to have their cats fixed you know not all 100 students that brought cats did so. Her curling up around a litter that lost their mother to illness. Training them to stalk the corridors. Albus had his ways of getting information, and hers is the spy network of cats.
  • Give me muggleborns singing everything from Phantom of the Opera to Katy Perry in the corridors. Singing We Will Rock You to a pureblood who disses them for it. The purebloods thinking the weird songs and their tunes are some kind of Rite of Passage and fleeing whenever a muggleborn student starts singing. Altering song lyrics. "I throw my ferret in the air some-times, singin EEEEEEEYO, this is DRAAAAAACO!"
  • Give me muggleborns that are really confused about the whole quill instead of pens things, throwing transfigured pokeballs in Care of Magical Creatures, the band students bringing kazoos and harmonicas and the wizrd-raised students that are just so confused as to how those things even work, because it must be some sort of air magic, right??
  • Give me muggleborns making entire conversations out of pop culture references specifically to confuse some Slytherin who just called one girl a Mudblood. "These are not the droids you were looking for." "I'm right on top of that now Rose, I promise." -jazz hands-
  • Give me muggleborns with Patronus that are things like Pikachu, velociraptors, the quiet Canadian transfer student with a moose patronus the size of a SMALL HOUSE, the one whose is a angeled-out Castiel, the one whose patronus is the democrat donkey and another the republican elephant and the two, previously best friends, become mortal enemies rivaling the fame of Harry and Draco.
  • Give me muggleborns hugging each other before break, promising to 'call' each other, trading weird codes, how they can't wait to go for 'sushi' or planning that trip together to 'disneyland' where they can go flying?? But no one's allowed magic?? Or flying?? And the wizard-raised think that somehow, shockingly,<i> these children totally new to our world have developed a way to cheat the system?? Muggleborns are badasses!!</i>
  • Give me muggleborns who are fully aware that the anti-tech wards were made when, like, radios barely even existed, much less cellphone towers and microprocessors, so while they can't turn them on inside the stone school walls there's this group that Harry joins constantly that just sit there in silence staring at these tiny things and sometimes randomly laughing hysterically, and every now and then standing and just running all the way across to the other side of the lake all at the same time with no signal whatsoever. The purebloods are <i>terrified</i> of this frequent happening.
  • Give me Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Justin from the D.A, muggleborns they are, doing a movie night every week to help the D.A. relax and bond. They re-start this after the battles, during eighth year, with several other people such as the returned Slytherins joining in. The entire year they play things like Tangled, The Breakfast Club, Brave, Lion King. But then the last four weeks, they announce they don't want to mislead everyone that everything is all fun and rainbows. The last four movies are My Sister's Keeper, The Shining, Marley and Me, and for the last week, a marathon of the entire Jurassic Park series.
  • Give me Hufflepuffs, who secretly are very relieved to be the 'normal' House. Jocks over there, know-it-alls over there, goth wannabees over there, now lets go camp out by the kitchens we're gonna need it to survive the next seven years like this.
  • Give me Ravenclaws who are so done with the riddles when they stumble back at midnight after having fallen asleep in the Library. "What's the truth?" "THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN."
  • Give me the Trio, who use the Marauder's Map to find the most absolutely ridiculous routes to class, knowing every single one of the shortcuts. It's not odd for them to simply appear out of the ceiling. One day the new first years try to follow them, to learn the school better, but it doesn't go so well because then they try to go through a disappearing wall the Trio just did they instead run headfirst into it, and the next time they do behind a tapestry, down a waterside, around some sort of tower, causally past an entire doorless room full of bats, and somehow come out on the complete other side of the castle.
  • Give me Draco whose just completely had it with Harry's staring and confronts him, like they always do, and Harry just blurts out that he likes Draco's new haircut and can he touch his hair, and Draco so shocked he lets him. "Potter stop treating me like a cat I'm evil remember? Bloody hell have you gone daft?!" "But... it's soft..." "I hate you." But he just can't find any anger over this, so there's like no venom whatsoever in it and Harry can't stop giggling.
  • Give me Ginny, who can't stop giggling as Luna confuses the fuck out of an entire crowd with her way of speaking, and who during seventh year could 100% get away with insulting the Death Eaters because of the way she said things. Who after Luna used said tactic to get her out of a Crucio punishment just clung to Luna, shaking, and realizing that she loves Luna so much for this very reason. That there will never be another person like Luna in her life, ever.
  • Give me Harry, who was not really well educated while living at the Dursleys, who couldn't read very well but was wonderful at sneaking around, little tricks like hiding things, and loved music. He taught himself magic tricks, and MERLIN ALMIGHTY THIS 11 YEAR OLD KID HAS MASTERED VANISHING SPELLS, WHAT, HOW, and Percy, uptight prefect he is, just looses it.
  • Give me Ron walking in on Harry talking to some random snake in their dorm room, laughing like the snake said a particularly good joke, tipping his head and smiling as he responds, the python slowly curling up his arm to rest over his shoulder. Ron freezes, stares, and then slowly backs away, closes the door and stands there staring at it for a full half hour in absolute horror.
  • Give me the rest of the D.A. walking into the Room of Requirement and hearing screaming, Dean shrieking that he's going to murder someone, Hermione crying, Justin cursing like a sailor yelling for everyone to stop, and the rest panic and run around the corner and there the four Muggle-raised students are. With some sort of odd device in their hands. Playing Mario Kart.
Von (Hope)

Þar sem gróir þar er von.
Allt sem græðir geymir von.

Listen to [x] while reading.

-

On the night of May 2nd 1998, Draco Malfoy lays awake on his bed.

It’s over. He’s dead. It’s over.” His mind chants. But is it?

A dark, hooded figure that hadn’t been there a second before stands on the edge of his bed, Malfoy starts. He grasps for his wand before realizing he hasn’t got one. The hooded figure chuckles, voice acidic and cold.

“You cheated me.” It says, Draco is frozen in place, searching his brain for whoever this might be. It can’t be the Dark Lord. He’s dead. Draco saw him die today. It can’t be.

“I’m Death.” It answers the question he hadn’t voiced, the knowledge brings a sense of Deja Vu, but he can’t quite place it “and no, I’m not here to take you with me.” he fails to conceal his disappointment. The room feels colder than it had.

“You were meant to die today, in the fire, but you didn’t.” The hairs on his body stand on edge at the mention of it. He’s shaking before he realizes it.

It had been so hot, he’d been gripping Potter’s waist like a lifeline, the fire licking at the hems of his pants, his screams drowned by the roar of the flames, Crabbe falling down and being consumed by them like he was nothing. He thought he’d die. He wishes he had.

“It was written on the stars, Draco Malfoy. However did you cheat the heavenly bodies?” It drawls out impatiently, he doesn’t know the answer. Is he supposed to?

“For this, however.” Death says, swishing it’s cloak, bony hands showing “I owe you a wish. Any wish at all.”

Draco’s eyes widen and his heart picks up speed in his chest. Any wish at all.

He suddenly remembers hearing a similar story to this one. Every bone in his body advices him not to accept, for Death could only be cunning and deceitful, not giving and generous.

Or perhaps Life was the first two and Death’s sweet release was the last. Perhaps life had been the cruel one all along. He dreams of a world where he doesn’t have to feel all of this, where the guilt doesn’t eat him alive, where he never takes the Dark Mark, where war doesn’t kill hundreds, where he’s happy.

He realizes that even if Death is fooling him, he doesn’t mind the likely outcome.

“I want a time turner” he says firmly “One capable of going back to 1991.” If Death is surprised, it doesn’t show it, it moves it’s hands in a swish and a time turner appears between them. It floats until it settles on Draco’s hand.

“Act wisely, Malfoy boy. For I can only grant you one wish.” It says, the ghost of a smile behind the dark hood. Then disappears.

Draco clutches the object and adjusts the time. He wonders if he’s in a dream, if it’ll work. Maybe he’s already dead and doesn’t know it, he doesn’t mind much. 

Doesn’t care to find out.

He closes his eyes and is launched into the paradox of time and space. He sees a colorless void and falls falls falls. His body small and insignificant in the never-ending space. Just when he’s starting to become fond of the quiet nothing and the soothing air touching his face, his stomach twists and he appears in a room that he knows too well. High ceilings and cool toned ancient furnitures. No feeling of home or coziness despite belonging to a child.

His childhood bedroom. If one could call it that.

He looks at the clock with a sharp twist and beneath the time, it reveals the date.

July 31st of 1991.

He almost can’t believe he has succeeded, but can’t dwell on his fear and excitement too long, for a small boy whom he knows too well and not at all stands at the foot of his bed, staring at him in horror. It’s a shock, seeing himself so full of life in the innocence of a child who doesn’t know what the future entails. A child with eager eyes and a prideful chest. Malfoy realizes he’s a ghost of what this child is.

“Who are you?” The small one shrieks. Draco presses a finger to his lips, shushing him. He’s grateful that the Manor is big enough for them not to be heard.

“I’m you. From the future.” young Draco flinches back and is about to start shouting again, before he seems to take in Draco’s features and connects them to an older version of himself. His eyes widen and Draco can see himself panic and glance around frantically, although also subtly, for an escape.

Slytherins. He thinks fondly.

“That’s not possible. Why-how are you here?” He demands.

“I have a story to tell you. But the first thing you need to know.” He swallows a lump in his throat “is that today you will be meeting a boy as you get fitted for your Hogwarts robes. I want you to change what you will say to him, for it’ll change how he sees you. It is extremely important that you do so.”

“Why? What do you mean? I don’t understand.” young Draco looks even more confused, of course he is.

Draco explains as much as he can and sugar coats what a child shouldn’t have to know. He attempts to explain to his own self that the opinions of his father are wrong, the small Draco tries to protest, but he doesn’t allow him to and continues telling him what’ll happen if he doesn’t listen carefully. By the end, his voice is hoarse and little Draco looks sick with fear. But he nods, seemingly understanding he has a duty to perform even if he doesn’t quite understand all of it it. Ah, the usual Malfoy, accepting what’s presented to him, born to please his elders, he thinks bitterly.

“Who’ll be the boy I’ll meet today?” His younger self asks tentatively when Draco is done talking and stands up. Draco smiles nostalgically as he adjusts the time again.

“I have put my faith in you, what you choose to do from now can change everything.” He says, and just as he feels the void sucking him in again, he says his last words to the last hope he’s got.

“And Draco, one last thing.” the kid nods “offer him your hand before you learn his name.”

-

where things grow, there is hope,
all that heals has hope.
 

Adult World (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nochuie

Description: You reveal to your friends that no one except yourself has ever made you cum. Jin in particular finds this interesting and dares you and Jungkook to go to the sex shop down the street and purchase a sex toy, for your own benefit of course.

Pairings: You x Jungkook, You x Taehyung, Jungkook x Taehyung (you know how truth and dare goes)

Basically: Taehyung is a cocky lil shit who features quite a lot. Jin is a mean lil shit and Jungkook is a very helpful lil shit ;)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (so much smut, like damn this was hot to write)

This fic includes: A brief boy on boy scene, swearing, alcohol, sex toys, explicit smut

Word count: 6k


“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jin practically howls with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. You’re about to tell him off but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jin sits up straight, looking down at Jungkook, who sits next to you on the floor, opposite Jin. He wipes the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down. “Hey, don’t you think you should talk to me with a bit more respect?” He prods teasingly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem in the mood, his previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Jin’s insensitive comment.

Jungkook’s tone is excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah, I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to Y/N.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Jungkook. I don’t think I can take Jin very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum.”

The circle of friends in Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment erupt into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“You got damn burned!” Jimin says, leaning over the bottles in the center of your various seated positions to high five you.

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The witch’s word rang through Sam’s mind as he listened to his brother talk about their latest hunt.

“…but the spell didn’t affect me, so I managed to run out, grabbed some witch killing bullets and ganked the bitch.”

Mary nodded. “Good job. But why didn’t the spell work on you and did on Sam?”

Dean shrugged and gulped down the rest of his beer. “Who knows? Dumb luck probably.”

Sam stared at his clasped hands at the table, refusing to look at either of them. Maybe he should have told Dean?

“Sam?” Mary asked and Sam could hear suspicion in her voice. She was good.

“What?” Sam tried to ask casually, but judging by the way Dean’s eyebrows furrowed as he peered at him, he did a poor job.

“Sammy? You’ve got something to share with the rest of the class?”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh and raised his hands as he yelled out, “The spell doesn’t work when a person is already in love with someone!”

The bang of his hands lowering to the table again was the last sound heard, prolonged silence stretching over them. Mary raised her eyebrows questioningly, but didn’t comment on the revelation.

When Sam dared to look at Dean, he expected anger, but instead he saw his brother fighting a smile and looking shyly - shyly! - at the table.

Dean finally looked up and grinned. “Looks like Cas always saves the day.”

like real people do p.3 | jeon jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off 6LACK’s ‘Prblms’

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