That Feeling Tho When You Find That Fic Writer That Just Absolutely Fucking

can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

Harry and Ron after a few pints

I love this man so much it hurts

BELLAMY BLAKE APPRECIATION

Happy b-day bellsarmy!

They forgot that we are Women

They called her a know-it-all. They told her that she was annoying and would never have any friends. They told her she was a mudblood, not worthy to flourish a wand or brew a potion or stand beside the ones they called purebloods. They told her she couldn’t. They forgot that she was persistence, she was strength, that the most important things were friendship and bravery. They forgot that she was Hermione Granger.

They called her crazy. They told her that she would never be anything more than the loony girl who read the quibbler, that crumple-horned snorcacks and nargles were fairytales her father told her to help her get to sleep. They told her that she would never fit in. They forgot that she didn’t want to fit in, that she was secret wisdom and serenity, that they were just as sane as she was. They forgot that she was Luna Lovegood.

They called her small. They told her that she was overshadowed by her brothers, that she was a slut who dated too many boys and who loved the Boy Who Lived because he brought her recognition. They forgot that she didn’t need a boy to bring her recognition, that quidditch and power and rebellion and the bat-bogey hex flowed in her veins. They forgot that anything was possible if you’ve got enough nerve. They forgot that she was Ginny Weasley.

They called her needy. They told her she was clingy and useless and that she needed a boy to define her. They forgot that she truly loved him, she just didn’t know how to show it. They forgot that even though she was afraid, she fought and died for her friends. They forgot that she was Lavender Brown.

They called her self-absorbed. They tpld her she had no right to be in Gryffindor, that she was a sucker for attention from professors like Trelawney, that Harry Potter had only taken her to the Yule Ball because he had no one else to take. They forgot that she was intelligence and small doses of courage and a true friend. They forgot that she was the prettiest girl in her year. They forgot that she was Parvati Patil.

They called her shallow. They told  her that she was gorgeous only on the outside, that she was stuck-up and patronizing. They forgot that she would die for the ones she loved, that looks meant nothing to her, that she was as much a fairy princess as they were. They forgot that she was Fleur Delacour.

They called her weak. They told her to get over her tears, that she would be happy again if she only tried, that she wouldn’t survive a storm. They forgot that she was the storm, that she was hidden strength, that her fury was as strong as her sorrow. They forgot that even if they had the emotional range of a teaspoon, she didn’t. They forgot that she was Cho Chang.

They called us many names

but they forgot that we are W O M E N

Tomorrow marks Eid al-Adha, and this is the second Eid that passes without happiness for children and adults.

The best gift that makes everyone happy is a donation to this family Best wishes for a Happy New Year

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I AM ABSOLUTELY LOSING MY MIND AFTER READING THIS PLEASE READ IT

‘You ran away from home?’ ‘When I was about sixteen,’ said Sirius. ‘I’d had enough.’ ‘Where did you go?’ said Harry, staring at him. ‘Your dad’s place,’ said Sirius. ‘Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son.’

(and I know this set will probably be confusing to some people since a lot of people like Kristin Scott Thomas as Walburga but she’s always been Mrs. Potter to me)

Kissing Styles...

James Potter: Very… very eager, but trying really… really hard to restrain himself. Knows how to do fun things with his tongue… has had a lot of practice. All in all… he’s what people like to describe as “fun”… 8/10 

Sirius Black: Knows how to adapt. Can pretty much match anyone’s kissing style, but likes deep, intense kissing the most… Also likes biting and hickeys. As talented as he is pretty. Down for basically anything… An enjoyable experience all the way around. 11/10

Remus Lupin: Nervous. Starts off slow… then kisses like it’s the last time he’ll ever kiss someone because he always feels like it’s the last time anyone will ever want to kiss him… 6/10 when he’s nervous… 9/10 when he relaxes and let’s go. 

Peter Pettigrew: Sweats a lot… too much tongue… 4/10  

Lily Evans: Expert kisser, knows her shit… at least as far as technicalities go… but lacks spontaneity. Get’s flustered when she doesn’t see something coming like James’ tongue tricks… also gets distracted easily (”SHIT! That’s due tomorrow!”)… Overall, needs some work. 6.5/10

Frank Longbottom: Handles you like you’re made of glass… very gentle… very sweet… enjoys kissing the spot just beneath your ear. Hates biting because he’s worried he’ll hurt you. Often stops to stare or chat. Worships the ground you walk on… 8/10 for kissing… 20/10 for making you feel like a goddess. 

Alice Longbottom: Kinky as fuck. 9/10

Dorcas Meadowes: Kinkier than fuck. Kisses like she owns your ass. Also hella gay. 10/10

Marlene McKinnon: Also also hella gay… less kinky. Uses a lot of tongue… but does it right. 9/10 

Mary Macdonald: Mary sue to the max… every kiss is like a reenactment of “The Notebook”. Disney-esque. 7/10

Regulus Black: Untrusting. Tends to panic if things go too quick… or too slow… or not exactly how he planned it. Perfectionist… and a bit of a control freak… doesn’t really know how to adapt to other kissing styles. 4.5/10

Narcissa Malfoy: Reserved… until between the sheets, then she will eat you alive. Mother fucking queen. Savage. Always tops. 10/10

Lucius Malfoy: Fun to look at… Terrible kisser. -5 stars. Two thumbs way down… would not recommend…. 0/10……………. alright… 2/10 for being pretty… Also… submissive af.  

Bellatrix Lestrange: Will rip your goddam lip off. 0/10…. unless you’re into that.

Fenrir Greyback: Will rip your goddam head off. -54/10

Severus Snape: Ew. 

I headcanon that Baby Harry knew Sirius’s secrets more than even James, as Sirius would tell Harry absolutely everything, as he rocked him to sleep.

your duty

written for @hpwritersnet prompt of the week ‘minerva mcgonagall’

She enters Hogwarts young and naïve with cascades of magic flooding under her fingertips, churning in every crevice. She is rugged copper ready to be shaped, ready to grow. She engulfs herself in knowledge, filling every gap in her brain with words and symbols and spells until she cannot speak without inked letters spilling from her mouth. Her innocence is burnt away under the light of petty arguments and childish fun and she emerges slightly older and slightly less naïve.

She lives and learns and grows older still and finds herself back at her old school with old friends and she thinks this is where she is meant to be. She has tried the cool chambers of the ministry and although she knows she is strong enough to shout down the voices of those stuck in the past, she misses the Scottish rain and the hope of young minds. She changes the world by nurturing the roots instead of cutting the leaves, watching generations grow up in front of her.

She watches James Potter and Sirius Black charging through her corridors, overflowing with a love of life. Watches them pull Lupin from his shell and give Pettigrew a chance, sees her boys grow into men. She does not bring them up but drags them, barking orders to straighten up and tuck in shirts, because there is no space for the youth in the world, no time for them to mess around. Don’t they know the war is coming? She keeps an eye on the newspapers that bring her names of past students in lists of the dead, in lists of those wanted for the dead. She starts to hold onto all her students a little more, not enough that they notice but enough that the dread in her heart lessens a little.

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