Yes, my friends are a bit eccentric, but that's how we were born. We can't win the "Cuties of the Year" contest. Do I wish people didn’t see us as monsters? Sure, I do. But life has dealt us such cards, we play by its rules.
— s.r.m. @belovedbi
[ID: All daughters turn into blood thirsty hounds— after years of licking their own wounds and biting their tongue. /end ID]
Saw Crimson Peak a while ago but never got the chance to draw what I wanted to draw until now. The beginning of Thomas and Edith’s story and the end… This movie absolutely broke my heart lol omg.
“Heya, mate. Is Hermione Granger around?”
Draco leaned over the counter, giving the pathetic, gap-toothed wanker sporting a Flourish & Blotts t-shirt a bored look. “Hermione Granger?” he intoned as if he had never heard that name before.
Gap-Tooth shuffled uneasily. “Yeah. She works here. Doesn’t she?”
“Does she?” Draco inspected his nails.
Gap-Tooth wandered off awkwardly, pretending to scan the shelves.
Draco’s eyes narrowed when he paused at the Love Potions, kept under strict lock and key.
Gap-Tooth asked, “Erm are you able to—?”
“No,” said Draco, point-blank.
Something about Draco’s expression made him pale, and he was out the door less than ten seconds later.
When Gap-Tooth was gone, Draco glanced down and said, “You’re all clear.”
Dusting off her trousers, Granger rose to her feet and picked up the inventory scroll again. “I’ve told him I’m not interested,” she said, purposely avoiding Draco’s eye.
“You didn’t drive the point. He probably thinks he’s being cute stalking you everywhere.”
“It’s fine.”
“You don’t even visit Flourish and Blotts anymore.”
“Ordering books in the mail is more efficient.”
He might have believed her if it weren’t for the countless times she’d returned late from her lunch break, carrying teetering piles of new books. But ever since Gap-Tooth started working there, lunchtimes were reduced to eating soggy sandwiches in the lab.
Gap-Tooth returned two days later.
Granger didn’t see him coming through the shopfront window and he caught her unaware, shelving cloud-shaped vials of Dreamless Sleep. His voice made her jump, a couple of bottles flying out of her hands and shattering.
Draco groaned, enchanting the mop and pail to clean up the mess but keeping his distance while Granger attempted to dodge Gap-Tooth’s advances.
Gap-Tooth: Something, something “…thought you worked here but…” gesturing to Draco.
Granger, giggling awkwardly: “Did he? Draco’s such a…” Something.
Draco raised a brow, wondering what she’d called him because it almost sounded affectionate.
Gap-Tooth: Mumble, mumble “…go out sometime?”
Granger more awkward giggling, cheeks pink: “…so busy… not really dating… you’re nice but…”
Gap-Tooth, realising he was losing his chance: “…just one date… promise I…” Stepping closer.
Granger, nearly tripping over the oscillating mop in her retreat: “…it’s just that I’m not… I don’t…”
Gap-Tooth, even closer, grinning impishly, hideous teeth on full display: Something, something “…casual? You look like you could use some fun.”
Draco bristled. The audacity of this wanker.
Having had enough, he rounded the counter and stepped in between Gap-Tooth and Granger. “Did you ask her out?”
Gap-Tooth frowned, looking a little afraid. “Yeah, so?”
“Did she say yes?”
“She was just about to—”
Draco turned to Granger. “Were you about to say yes?”
“No,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze. She was too bloody nice for her own good.
Lucky for her, Draco wasn’t.
“There’s your answer,” said Draco, shooing Gap-Tooth towards the door. “Stop harassing her.”
Gap-Tooth looked at Granger, but she refused to look back. Disheartened, he made his way to the door.
Draco called out, “Oh, and if you bother her at Flourish and Blotts again, I’ll turn you into a rat and dump you in our lab cage.”
“Malfoy!” Hermione swatted Draco’s arm once Gap-Tooth was gone, but her eyes were bright with laughter. “That was so unkind.”
“Yes. And?” He waited.
She sighed as if it physically pained her to say, “Thank you.”
He grinned, pleased. Then tugged at a curl that had come loose from her clip. “And?”
She stepped closer, looking up at him with large brown eyes. “And you were right.”
“And?” Draco’s stomach fluttered. He was usually so composed, but nothing about Granger made him feel ordinary.
“And…” She rose to her tiptoes and locked her hands behind his neck, parting her lips in anticipation as they met halfway. “…maybe we should start telling people about us.”
(638 words, prompt: Yes. And? from Twitter)
Jude and Cardan
Love this. So true ❤️️
Writing is not always writing.
Writing is being on the train and mentally seeing your OCs stumble into other people, or flinching away from the germ-ridden handrails, or sleeping on each others’ shoulders.
Writing is hearing a song on the radio and watching one of your scenes play out to the lyrics.
Writing is laying on your floor or sitting by your computer and spending hours collaging newspaper clippings or pictures or people or plants together and making something that is completely, uniquely, your story.
Writing is drawing your characters in your notebooks, and making tea only your one, picky character would drink, and writing an open letter to all your characters just to remind them you love them.
Writing is moodboards, and playlists, and crafts, and asks, and prompts, and pictures, and memories, and you.
So never think that just because you’re not putting words on a page, you’re not a real writer. Writing is something that follows you everywhere, beyond the word document, and beyond the screen.
Because writing isn’t something you do. It’s something you are.
This is SO, SO true!
http://cyrillia.tumblr.com/post/102196481128/shinywhimsy-luckyseventeen-i-hope-everyone
I hope everyone here understands that liam is taking every awkward, horrible question and completely toeing the party line and giving the expected answer to help his brothers out and I’ve never loved him more
imagine you're out for drinks with your mates spouting absolute bullshit about how you're gonna live forever and the palest rich boy you've ever seen comes up with a sick ass ruby around his neck and black robes and dramatic hair and is like oh you're going to live forever? in the most awkward tone imaginable and your mates are absolutely losing it but the kid isn't bad on the eyes and it's obviously the first time he's been outside of whatever castle he cracked out of so you tell them to shut up and play along and then bam it's been a hundred fucking years and you're still alive and this guy is back in the exact same fit and basically tells you you're immortal now purely to amuse him for one night in a century and you have to just roll with that for the next six hundred years because what else are you going to do
I'll tell you all how the story ends, where the good guys die and the bad guys win It ain't about all the friends you made, but the graffiti they write on your grave
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