#I KNOW WHAT IT IS

[ihavea-natural-curiosity]

what is it abt ba sing se that makes the zukka shippers go WILD

[milkchuggs]

What is it about CM Punk that attracts all this toxic old man yaoi

[lilithofpenandbook]

Playing Hogwarts Mystery and Peeves goes and hits me with "Snivellus Snape"

CAN THIS MAN JUST GET A BREAK FOR ONCE-

[fireworkss-exe]

what's that one movie where a 19 year old lesbian and her gay brother terrorize a group of men who are like 25-40 years old

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

there’s something about jorge’s dad and mom’s accents that just hit so hard in their verses

[buttdumplin]

ALEX PROPAGANDA!!!!!! It's working, I'm nothing but a sucker

[wishtale-blogs]

[ can someone explain why when I went to put the tag ‘the boi’ the first tag to appear was ‘the boiled one phenomenon’ ]

[ I hate that guy- ]

[alt text]

can someone explain why when I went to put the tag ‘the boi’ the first tag to appear was ‘the boiled one phenomenon’

I hate that guy-

[yalikejazz9]

(THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL SPOILERS)

I'm pretty sure I just figured out WHAT THE FUCK the thing in the archive trapdoor was and I have all the evidence to prove it (mostly, I hope, ITS A BIG ASS STRECH), but the only reason I know all of this is because I've been bless with early access to mag 18 and I'm literally going insane

[scamanderishredmayniac]

Finished the first trial. One down, 2 to go I think. Oh man that was long and hard. My back and shoulders are in pain. Think it’s time to try and sleep. I say try, don’t think I’m tired though. Just achy.

[swan2swan]

THE MUSIC IS DOING HIS TEAKETTLE THING

[dacuslucy]

current roman empires

boygenius

mattea roach (& the whole jeopardy masters cast)

my crochet sweater

fleabag

The Dread

[hasellia]

Brain please I'm begging you.

You LOVE oysters. You LOVE research. You WANT to rehabilitate the local river system. You LOVE enviroscience. You LOVE ecology.

Why is a 700 word report freaking you the fuck out so much?

[terra-wisp]

Day 9: "The Morning After" || 485 Words || (Pre)-Fleurmione @sapphicmicrofics

Apolline Delacour always said that the morning after one’s wedding night would put a lot into perspective. 

But what about the morning after one’s fake wedding, hours after a Death Eater attack interrupted the reception that killed at least a half a dozen of her guests? Then yes, Fleur really did get quite the perspective of what she was dealing with in this war.

But that’s why she stayed — so she could fight, even if it meant that she and Bill had to put up a farce to keep her in the country. 

At least they still maintained separate rooms. They were currently in her flat since Shell Cottage’s wards weren’t quite ready yet. Fleur could hear the soft snores of her fake-husband as he crashed on her couch in the living room. It wasn’t long before they would relocate, but for now, Fleur continued to enjoy the first space she had crafted as her own since she had graduated Beauxbatons. 

Like the heavily warded, yet very open window.  

The heavily warded, open window that had a veritable hodge podge of birds that silently lined the outside ledge as they stared at her. 

Fleur blinked in bafflement. Not that this was her first time being greeted by a conjured feathered friend as she woke, but never to this degree. The cacophony of clashing colors, shapes, and sizes threatened to hurt her eyes. The part-Veela had an idea of who was responsible for the semi-regular show she was gifted on some mornings, but she had never brought it up. 

And after the events of last night, Fleur quietly lamented her cowardice. 

Before the blonde could get lost in her own head, the slap dash flock outside her window decided to begin. It soon became clear why there was a need for such a wide variety of birds as they tweeted, chirped, and warbled in harmony with each other to deliver one song. And singing the melody? A Baltimore Oriole. That same black and yellow bird that she saw all those years ago. 

Fleur had never heard the song before, but there was a steadiness to it. It wasn’t overly bright or dripping with saccharine happiness. Instead it felt grounded, like the person knew that Fleur was stuck in a somber realization of the dark days to come. 

And at the same time, it was encouraging, especially as the birds got more lively with the increase of force and emotion in the notes.

Eventually, the song came to an end as each of the birds faded into motes of sparkling dust with their final notes. Until even the little black and yellow soloist sung its last iteration of the ever present melody. 

It was simple, but it gave her hope. 

It was months later, when Fleur had ducked into a muggle record shop to dodge one of her pursuers, that she had learned who The Beatles were.

[t4ct1c4l-d1ld0]

Is there something you want me to do, kitten?

[correctopinionhaver]