#but going to a museum with some person you share some vague mutual attraction with to get to kno

[vanishingmoments]

The idea of dates is something I'm still not sure I fully understand

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

ok so we have seen over and over again people's assumptions about how gg main characters's instagrams would look like but how do you think their secret tumblr blogs would be? 👀

hmm! i just went over tumblr in general, because i don’t think all of them would have ‘secret’ tumblrs per say? everyone’s thing under the cut, cause it got SO long. i did not mention chuck because i don’t rlly see chuck as having a tumblr in any universe tbh - i feel like he would think it takes away from his businessy vibe or something.

dan's main would be something with a ts eliot url, like, a snippet from one of his poems, or it would be a whitman url, a snippet from a poem again (i see him with a whitman url of some kind & maybe his blog title is an eliot reference.) dan would 100% have the whole dark academia thing going in some ways, i think his blog would be organised as a grid, and he would reblog pictures of libraries, museums, occasionally of art, and also, quotes. so many quotes. so much literature. if you've been on tumblr long enough you know exactly the kind of blog i'm talking about.

dan's tumblr sideblog, on the contrary, would have nothing to link it to him. it'd probably be the tumblr default theme, pastel colours or something... i feel like dan is the specific genre of trans kid who uses a different set of pronouns online for anonymity purposes and then goes "wait a minute i like these pronouns BETTER". his url would be something extremely mundane and random like coffeeaddict779 or something, and it would be all #vent and #dont reblog. nobody who's following his sideblog knows what his main is, and vice versa.

serena would i think have one of those "be kind, do no harm :)" kind of hipster tumblr blogs, except she's incredibly sincere. she wouldn't have a sideblog, i don't think? and i don't think she'd attach her name to it in any way, probably just pronouns in bio and maybe a 'call me S'. she and dan would be mutuals on dan's main! her blog will be very, uh. aesthetic pictures, reblogs of dolphin videos and music and WIP art videos and anything else that'll catch her eye. she'll tag blair in fashion vids, nate in sailing posts, dan in literary stuff, and vanessa in film related/photography related things. she's having fun! every now and then she'll post a vent post but it's extremely vague and it's either something everyone who knows her irl already knows about her ('i hate my mom so much') or something that says practically nothing ('i am so worried about my brother and wish i could do more to help him.')

jenny's fashion inspo blog!!!! what more do you want me to say. she'd make it big in the fashion community and get anons all the time and she'd probably also have an etsy where she sells things she's sewn and made. everyone sort of knows she's an up and coming designer and she'd find a good community online hopefully!!! her blog would be something simple, with a url like jennydesigns or something (i bet that's taken rn, i havent checked) and her theme would be one of those themes that allows for u to have big images. she would probably post vents in the same way serena does, tag them #personal or #rambles, and have that neat code that allows for the tag to be filtered out whenever anyone views her page on desktop, you know?

i think eric would not have anything specific that he posts. he would just reblog random things - memes, things he finds interesting, jenny's original posts, stuff serena tags him in, cat videos, lgbtq+ positivity, etc. he'd try and stay out of drama (i think he'd turn anon off eventually.) he’d also post a lot of music reblogs or links, i feel?

vanessa's main blog would be one where she posts her own photos and films. because she's professional about it, it'd probably just be @ vanessaabrams. she'd have a sideblog specifically for reblogging other people’s work because she wants to support other artists, and it would be vanessareblogs or something like that, and her bio would mention “main tumblr @ vanessaabrams”. she’d be much adored in the photo/film community and just in general, because she’s one of the few people who hypes up other creators all the time and leaves nice comments in tags and all that. every now and then serena reblogs vanessa’s photography onto her blog and it almost always blows up, but vanessa doesn’t mind. i don’t think vanessa would have a vent blog or even a personal tag, she gives me big ‘i wanna keep my business totally off the net’ kind of vibes.

nate’s blog would be a lot like serena’s except, uh, more openly wanderlusty i think. a LOT of ocean reblogs. every now and then he reblogs keroauc quotes from dan which the girls find extremely hilarious. he talks a lot about sailing and gets a lot of sailing anons. he’d reblog a lot of positivity (mostly because he knows his friends are following him and he wants to brighten up their dash.) dan and vanessa jokingly dm him weed aesthetic posts all the time, but every time they do he reblogs and tags it ‘sent to me’ or somehting like that, and they cant decide whether to be flattered or embarrased. i think nate would also attract a lot of anons who ask for advice and it is something he never expected people coming to him for, but he definitely listens and shares whatever he’s got to say all the same. he’s this blog who should be weirdly niche but everyone sort of knows him and likes him.

saving the best for the last, lol. i have SO many thoughts about blair’s tumblrs. 

i think she’d have a main tumblr that’s solely for classic film stuff (audrey! and more) and that’d be @ blairwaldorf, because, well, duh. i think she’d pay for a tumblr theme and get one of those really fancy and cute ones, like a floralcodes ms paint theme. i think she’d also have a sideblog that’s less serious, where she’d reblog things from tv shows, reblog things serena or nate have tagged her in, write her own meta for fandoms she’s in, just generally be a multifandom mess with a #personal tag but nothing too personal. it would still be classy, because she’s blair, but on this blog, she’s just a girl having fun.

and then she’d have a THIRD blog, a sideblog that doubles up as a vent blog. and this one isn’t linked to her other two in an obvious way, nobody knows it’s her, etc. on here she’d probably post a lot about her ed (but i think in a  ‘i am struggling and i want to bitch’ way, not in a thinspo way - that’s a whole conversation i have no spoons for, so let’s not go there), she’d post about her insecurities and worries but it would be extremely untraceable. she’d have a fancy theme on this one too, despite it being a vent blog. 

hm. now im thinking of the potential of like. dan and blair interacting super frequently on their vent blogs and neither of them knowing it’s the other person!

[droppingplanets]

An Unconventional Double-Decker Bus

AO3 FanFiction.Net

“Bugger it all.”

For what seemed like the millionth time in a period of half an hour, James Potter’s laptop had crashed again. He stared at the black screen, trying his hardest to prevent himself from assaulting the aggravating hunk of metal positioned on his lap. Becoming acutely aware of how pathetic he looked, he shoved the laptop aside with an almost commendable amount of self-control.

Need some air. James made up his mind. To hell with his homework, he’d find some bullshit excuse for McGonagall the next day. Of course, there was very little chance that she’d actually believe him; the one month he’d spent at King’s College London had given him and his strict Comparative Literature professor plenty of opportunity to get to know one another. James had come to the conclusion that it would take slightly more time than usual to win her over.

As he headed to the door of his small but oddly comforting dorm room, a thought struck him. Should I call Sirius?

Sirius Black was young and attractive, and not much else. Or at least so he’d immediately assumed. Until the night Sirius stumbled piss drunk into the room shared by James and Remus Lupin – a quiet, yet oddly commanding design student in his first year. It was when Sirius embarked on a rant about the finer points of classical Greek philosophy that James knew there was something extremely odd about this bloke. One thing led to another, and in a matter of ten minutes, James was almost at the same levels of intoxication as his new best friend, while Remus tried to engage Sirius in a political debate. After that night, James believed he had found a soulmate in Sirius – er, well, a soulmate of sorts. He was still the most annoying person in the entirety of London, as far as James was concerned, yet somehow, his cat had immediately taken to him. Remus wasn’t too bad either.

Despite his newfound camaraderie, he decided against inviting Sirius. He wanted to be alone right now (read: he wanted to go off and sulk under a tree). And if nothing came of that, he’d go crash Remus’s date, which led him to wonder. Who in their right mind would go on a date on a bloody Wednesday afternoon?

James locked the door behind him and set off for his adventure. Some adventure, he reflected. Taking long strides, he was out the door of Moonraker Point – which apparently the name of the building that served as accommodation for KCL students – before he knew it. Oh, this felt so much better. Countless hours spent in front of a laptop hammering away essays was no way to spend the day.

Spotting a nice-looking tree in the distance, he grinned. Beautiful. What a majestic sight it was. Knowing that he and the tree were destined to meet, he broke into a slight jog and started heading towards it. That’s when he saw a flash of red – the brightest red he had ever seen–

CRASH.

As James lay on the ground, he wondered about the nature of this mighty red beast that had come in his path. No doubt, it was a ferocious monster of some sort, and now there would be a battle.

Wait.

Not a monster.

A rather angry-looking girl with red hair was dusting herself off, two inches across from him. James perked up, despite the throbbing he felt in his arse. He knew exactly who this was.

“Rhododendron!” he exclaimed with pleasure.

The girl looked angrier now. “It’s Lily, thank you very much,” she said, focusing her glare on him.

“Oh, of course. Lily. Yes. Lily. How could I forget?” He pushed himself off the ground. He’d encountered Lily Evans once before, when he’d nearly set her backpack on fire. Holding out a hand to her, he smiled at her vaguely apologetically – at least, he hoped it was apologetic. It seemed to work, however, as her eyes softened and she used the support to help herself off the ground.

“You’re very destructive, you know that, Potter?” she sighed.

He had to admit that he was, as he thought back to the several fires he had inadvertently started over the course of his seventeen years. Of course, he did have an ego to protect.

“You should meet my cat,” he said. He missed Juniper. He only saw her on the weekends when he went home, although he was secretly plotting to kidnap her and bring her into his dorm room.

“I don’t like cats,” said Evans. James gasped. Who didn’t like cats?

“That’s outrageous. Everyone likes cats,” he said confidently.

“Yes, well, not me.”

“You’re a bit mad, then, aren’t you, Evans?”

“Says the bloke who started a fire in McGonagall’s class,” she shot back. He grimaced. That hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

“I’ll have you know that the ancient Persians worshipped fire!”

“Sorry to break it to you, but this isn’t ancient Persia.”

“I ruddy well wish it was,” he grumbled.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re so odd, Potter, do you know that?” James said nothing.

“Do us all a favour and keep your destructive tendencies to yourself, yeah?” she said, her eyebrow raised. Eliciting no response from him, she started walking away. “See around, Potter.”

“Bye, Evans,” he said, running a hand through his hair. So much for that.

But as for now, he had a tree to attend to, and a cat to kidnap.

Remus wasn’t sure what to expect when Mary Macdonald asked him if he wanted to go to Tate Modern with her. He was a sucker for pretentious art, and she knew that. The three weeks they’d spent as partners in Flitwick’s Modern Art class had been hugely entertaining and had resulted in a discovery of the fact that the two shared a mutual love for hot chocolate, Terry Pratchett novels, and the Welsh band Catfish And The Bottlemen. Hell with it, why shouldn’t he say yes? It wasn’t like it would be a date.

“It’s totally a date,” said James, when asked. Remus groaned.

“There’s no way it’s a date. She would have told me if it was a date,” he insisted.

James shrugged. “Whatever you say, mate.”

Thus, Remus spent a good half an hour prior to his so-called date in a state of insecurity. Upon receiving a text from Mary requesting him to meet her at the Southbank Centre, he made a calculated and mature decision to shove his thoughts aside and go take the mickey out of some modern art.

One Tube journey later, he exited Embankment Tube Station. Despite having spent an entire month in London, the city continued to amaze him – especially the riverside. Having spent his childhood in a small town in Wales called Hay-on-Wye, being thrust into a life in central London had proved to be a bit of a contrast. He reflected upon this as he made his way across the Golden Jubilee bridge. Of course, having James Potter for a roommate made things a lot more interesting than they would have been otherwise.

The October air was chilly. Remus wrapped his coat around himself a little tighter and continued on his way, smiling at a busker who was belting out a version of Norwegian Wood with an acoustic guitar strapped to his chest. He vaguely wondered as to how the man’s fingers hadn’t gone numb, especially considering how long he’d been playing for.

Finally, having made it to the other side, he spotted Mary on a red bench shaped like a slide, the wind giving the impression that her dark hair looked like it was making an attempt to escape her face. She noticed Remus approaching and jogged towards him. The two hugged briefly.

“It’s fucking cold, Lupin,” said, oddly cheerfully.

“Wait till December,” he said, grinning back at her. Mary shuddered. “Come on, then, let’s go make fun of modern art.”

“Oh, wow, that’s what I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

“Stop mocking me.”

“Stop being mockable.”

“Mockable isn’t a real word.”

“You’re not a real word–” Remus suddenly broke off and whipped around. That voice. He knew that voice. But where was it coming from?

“Dancing queeeeen, young and sweet, only seventeeeeen…”

Of course it had to be him. Remus broke into laughter. This was too good to be true. Mary noticed what he was looking at and soon was in fits of laughter as well, at the sight of Sirius Black some ten feet away from them, a mic grasped tightly in his hands and a speaker blaring out his version of the ABBA hit Dancing Queen.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I’m here all week!” he announced as Remus and Mary headed towards him.

“Lupin, Macdonald, what a pleasant surprise!” he cried.

“Never knew you were so talented, Black,” laughed Mary.

“Very convincing falsetto,” agreed Remus. Sirius curtseyed.  

“It’s an art, you see,” he said happily. Remus was inclined to agree.

“YOU SOUND LIKE MY CAT!” came a voice from the distance. Sirius waved it off. “Pish-posh, they’re just jealous.”

“Of course,” said Mary, still laughing. “I should recruit you for my band. We’d be fantastic!”

“Sorry, Macdonald, I’m a solo act,” he said, turning back to the speaker positioned behind him. “And I’m afraid I have to get back to work now. Southbank Centre is about to hear my fantastic rendition of Staying Alive.”

“Fair enough. See you around, Black.” She gestured at Remus that they should be on their way. About thirty seconds later, a voice rang out in the distance.

“WELL, YOU CAN TELL BY THE WAY I USE MY WALK–”

Peter Pettigrew was exceptionally bored. The only reason he’d agreed to visit the Tate with his sister was because she’d agreed to buy him lunch afterwards at Founder’s Arms, and that wasn’t an opportunity he was going to pass up. But now, he was starting to wonder if it was worth it. The two hours he’d spent at the museum had resulted in a fairly intense game of Clash Of Clans on his phone – until, of course, the phone battery died and he was left with no choice but to wander the museum akin to a Viking warrior charting unknown territories.

Modern art was so weird. He was convinced he could pose as a flamingo in the museum and people would consider him to be an exhibit. Art students were also very weird, he reflected. Economics students were so much simpler. His class at KCL was full of fairly normal people – which, admittedly, made it that much more boring.

Chancing upon a bench, he took the opportunity to regain some lost energy. A full minute later, he felt like screaming. This was immensely boring.

Peter made up with his mind. Hell with it, it was time to enjoy himself a little bit. Spotting an empty corner in the room he was, he made a snap decision. Quickly removing his left shoe, he jogged over to the corner and placed it there. Brilliant. Modern art. Time to see how many people would fall for this.

He wasn’t disappointed. In a matter of minutes, a large crowd had gathered around his shoe, each person staring at it as if in deep contemplation. A tourist even pulled out a DSLR camera bigger than Peter’s hopes and took a photo of the new addition to the exhibit.

Peter was delighted. He couldn’t believe so many people had fallen for this. It was then that he heard a vaguely familiar voice.

“Oi, give the poor lad his shoe back.”

Oh hell.

“And that’s how we met Peter,” finished Mary, laughing, as Peter smiled embarrassedly.

“So you made an arse out of a bunch of tourists, good on you,” said Lily, breaking into a laugh as well. Two days after her encounter with James Potter – not that she was thinking about the encounter at all – her roommate Mary Macdonald had offered to introduce her to the new friends she’d made. The three were seated in a local pub that evening, awaiting the presence of self-proclaimed ABBA-phile Sirius Black.

"Listen, I’ll be right back, I need to take a leak,” explained Peter and disappeared before Lily could blink. What an odd bloke.

Mary disappeared within the next minute as well, leaving to take a phone call (“Sirius, how the hell did you get lost?”), leaving Lily seated by herself, idly stirring a glass of lemonade. The music playing in the pub seemed oddly familiar – was it a Eurovision winner? She spent a couple of minutes racking her brain to figure it out when she heard a voice.

“Lemonade in October, Evans, are you bleeding mad?”

Of course it had to be James Potter. What were the odds?

“I’ll have you know I have a fantastic immune system,” she replied, watching Potter take a seat opposite her at the booth.

“Go on, sit down then,” she said sarcastically. He smiled pleasantly.

“Lovely attitude, there. Bet it really pays off, looking at all the friends you’ve got,” he gestured around the empty table.

“Clearly pays off for you as well, seeing as you’re spending your evenings stalking me.”

“Oh, this was purely a happy coincidence, Evans,” said Potter. Lily snorted.

“Your version of a happy coincidence is crashing into me like a double decker bus.”

“Oh, get over it, Evans, it’s been two days!”

“What if I had lasting injuries?”

“Well, do you?”

“Er, no, but that’s not the point!”

“Your face is the point!”

Lily was suddenly aware of the fact that the two were being watched by Mary, Peter, and a new appearance whom she assumed to be Sirius Black.

“Maybe if we get them some alcohol, they’ll start snogging!” Sirius stage-whispered.

“Maybe if we get you some alcohol, you’ll piss off,” shot back Lily, too riled up to give a toss about the fact that she was insulting a complete stranger, albeit a very handsome one.

“Better yet, he’ll start talking about Plato,” Potter added on. This statement attracted a few questioning looks. “It’s a long story,” he said by way of an explanation.

“So this is Evans?” Sirius sidled into the seat next to James. “I like her. She’s cooler than you, Mary.”

“You’ve known her all of two minutes!” she cried indignantly. All she got was a wink. “You’re a git.”

“I know.”

As the night went on, Sirius decided to put his fake ID to good use. Peter and Mary were a little hesitant with their alcohol, but they took to it with enthusiasm after a certain point. Potter and Sirius seemed to be veterans, and by around 11 PM, they took it upon themselves to provide the pub with a rousing duet of Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.

In hindsight, it was probably the duet that got all of them forcibly removed from the pub. Or maybe it was Lily’s goat impressions.

“Never again,” moaned James. “I’m never drinking with Sirius fucking Black ever again.”

This statement elicited a pillow being chucked at him by Sirius fucking Black himself. “Shut up, you prat,” moaned Sirius in a similar tone. “Ow. No more alcohol for me. Ever again.”

Peter Pettigrew nodded in agreement from his corner of the room. Remus wasn’t sure exactly when he’d agreed to become a caretaker to his friends with alcoholic tendencies, but he’d taken on the duty with a commendable amount of enthusiasm. He’d also decided that this would be the only time that’d be fulfilling this role, and to ensure this, he’d taken the liberty of stealing Sirius’s fake ID.

What a way to end a month.

“Remus?” James called out. “It was totally a date.” His face seemed to have the vague semblance of a smirk.

Remus’s ears went red. “Shut up, you prig. Go fantasise about Lily.”

“Evans is an odd bird,” mumbled James. “But she’s cool.”

So much for maintaining his dignity.