#just some doodles whilst I’m busy for the weekend

[scrimblyscrorblo]

Some Edgar Allen Poe (BSD) Headcanons:

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Al Baker

I first came across Al Baker’s photography whilst looking through an old copy of a magazine called Flux I’d snaffled from Manchester’s world-famous second-hand wonderland, Empire Exchange.

Hidden in the magazine’s pages, between an interview with Mark E Smith and a review of a newly-released sci-fi film called The Matrix, were two black-and-white photos, snapped from the window of an ice-cream van, showing kids lined up for a bit of frozen respite from the summer heat. Reading the fairly minimal bit of text below, it turned out the photos were part of a series called ‘Ice Cream You Scream’. 

I’d missed the exhibition by approximately 20 years, but thanks to the high-speed time-machine known as the internet, I managed to track him down. Here’s an interview about his fine photos, his time living in Hulme Crescents and the benefits of carrying cameras in a Kwik Save bag...

Classic ‘start of an interview’ question here, but when did you get into photography? Was there something in particular that set you off?

Like a lot of young people, I knew that I was creative but hadn’t quite found my place. I didn’t know whether I wanted to be a writer or in a band. I used to doodle, copy Picasso’s in biro, so off I went to art college and tried my hand at different things. All it really taught me was that I had neither the patience, technique or talent to become a painter. Photography seemed a much easier way to make images, a more instant result. Of course, the more you get into it you realise that whether you’re any good or not does rely upon patience, technique and talent after all.

Was ‘being a photographer’ something that people did in Manchester in the early 90s? Who did you look up to back then?

Not really. It was very rare to see another person wandering around with a camera back then. Even years later when I began photographing the club scene in Manchester no-one else seemed to be doing the same thing. Not at the night clubs I went to anyway. 

Now it’s very different. These days you see people with cameras everywhere. Club nights almost always have a photographer. People are far more image-conscious due to social media. Today most people are busy documenting their own nights out with their phones. Look at footage from any major gig these days and half the room is filming it. Back in the 90s no-one seemed to care about documenting anything like that. You were very unlikely to see the photos that someone might be taking the next day or, in fact, ever. People often used to ask ‘What are you taking photos for?’ with genuine surprise or distain.  

In terms of photographers whom I looked up to there are so many! There are great image masters like Cartier-Bresson or Elliott Erwitt. Photographers of war and social upheaval like Don McCullin and Phillip Jones-Griffiths. I liked Alexander Rodchenko and Andre Kertez, how they broke the conventions of their day with wit and invention. 

I loved the dark and dirty images of Bill Brandt, and his inspiring nude studies too. I loved the city at night recorded by Brassai. Paris in the 1930s definitely seemed to be the place to be. Diane Arbus, Jane Bown and Shirley Baker. American street photographer Gary Winogrand was a huge influence on me, as was Nick Waplington’s book ‘Living Room’.  

I was also quite lucky to be living in Manchester at that time. Daniel Meadows and Martin Parr had both attended Manchester Polytechnic. Denis Thorpe had worked for the Guardian in Manchester. I saw Kevin Cummins iconic Joy Division images, Ian Tilton documenting The Stone Roses. Both were regularly in among the inky pages of the NME. 

I also saw an exhibition of Clement Cooper’s photographs of the Robin Hood pub in Moss Side, which was another big influence. I was also very lucky in that my very first photography tutor was Mark Warner, who produced very beautiful images, did a lot of work for Factory Records. He shot The Durutti Column’s (1989) Vini Reilly album sleeve. He was probably the first person who ever really encouraged me.

I really like that series of photos you took from inside an ice-cream van in the late 90s. What was the story behind that? 

The initial idea for that project came from my friend Steve Hillman, who is an actor. At the time he was ‘between jobs’, which is an actor’s euphemism for being unemployed, so he was working an ice-cream round to help to pay the rent. I was at his flat one night, thinking aloud about where I might go next with my camera. I’d spent quite a long time following graffiti artists work around Hulme, and had my first exhibition based around that. But it only seemed to lead to offers of more work with graffiti artists, and I wanted to do something else.  

I’d done a 2nd exhibition based around portraits of my friends in Hulme. I’d flirted with some one-day projects, like Belle Vue dog track, Speakers Corner in Hyde Park. Anyway, while I was talking, not really knowing what I was going to do next, Steve simply stated ‘You should come out on the ice-cream round with me. No-one ever comes to the van without a smile on their face.’ And it just struck me as a beautiful & simple idea. So, one day we just set off. 4 or 5 rolls of film and all the free ice-cream I could eat, which I discovered wasn’t very much!

What was the logistical side of those photos? Were they taken from the same van? 

They were all shot on the same day, the same van, all around Salford. It was good fun, but actually very hard work. Trying to constantly find new angles, different framing and working on a hot August day in such a small confined space. By the end of the day I felt that I had enough strong images for my next exhibition. They were much jollier images than ones I’d made before. As a result, because it had more universal appeal, I got quite a lot of good publicity out of it, and Walls gave us hundreds of free Magnum ice-creams to give away on the opening night!

These days I could think of more than a few reasons why you probably shouldn’t drive around Salford photographing other people’s children without permission haha (in fact, I’m surprised that I wasn’t hung from the nearest lamppost!) but I was much younger and far more naive back then. Besides, that was something that I’d learned from living in Hulme. You don’t ask for permission. Someone will only say ‘No’. Just crack on and do it anyway.

You also documented the last years of the Hulme Crescents. A lot of people talk about that time and place in Manchester, even now—but what was the reality of it? What was a normal weekend there like?

It was quite unlike anywhere that I’d ever lived before. It looked like a fascist dystopian nightmare, only one peopled by Rastas and anarchists. Bleak concrete interconnecting walkways. No through roads whatsoever. A fortress feel to the place. The entire estate was earmarked for demolition before I arrived. Everyone else seemed to be busy moving out. But I was already spending a lot of time there, post-Hacienda, parties, friends, lost weekends.  

There were lots of young people living there. Families had mainly moved out as the heating didn’t work properly, flats were cold & damp, often infested with cockroaches. There were traces of old Irish families, the Windrush generation, interwoven with punks and drop-outs. 

There was a cultural & artistic flowering among the ruins. A Certain Ratio, Dub Sex, A Guy Called Gerald, Edward Barton, Ian Brown, Dave Haslam, Mick Hucknall, Lemn Sissay, all lived there at one time. It was the original home of Factory, where all the post-punk bands played. In turn that led to Factory Records, New Order, and the Hacienda. The PSV club later hosted raves and notorious Jungle nights. It was a good time to be young.

You lived there as well as shooting it. Do you think it’s important to be a part of the thing you’re photographing, rather than just an outsider with a camera?

I don’t know that it’s important to be a part of the thing you’re photographing, ‘embedded’ is what the war photographers call it, but you definitely capture different images. Certain things that might have been shocking to an outsider were commonplace, normal & every day to me. Boring even. On the other hand, I was much less likely to be robbed walking around. That meant I could take my camera places that other people couldn’t, or maybe shouldn’t!

I used to wear my camera beneath my coat so it couldn’t be seen, and I carried my film and lenses in a Kwik Save shopping bag so as not to attract unwanted attention. I got into the habit of handing that bag over the bar at the pubs I went in. I would collect it the next day if I could remember where I’d been the night before. Bless you, saintly barmaids of old Hulme.

If you look at my images of Hulme people they’re usually reacting to me and not the camera. Either that or they’re not reacting at all. They’re ignoring the fact that I’m taking a picture. That’s what gives them that ‘fly-on-the-wall’ feeling.

This is something that I put to greater effect later when I was photographing in night clubs, skulking stage side or hiding in a DJ booth. When DJs & MCs see you week in week out at the club doing the same thing they stop posing for the camera and just get used to you being there. You become part of the furniture. And when people stop being conscious of the camera, when they ignore that you’re even present, you can step in much closer. Put simply, you get better pictures. They’re much less performative and far more honest. It’s not often people can say they like it when they’re being ignored, but for photographers it’s a gift.

Do you think somewhere the Crescents could exist now, or was it just a case of the perfect accidental recipe for that kind of creative, DIY activity?

No, I don’t think anywhere like Hulme will ever happen again. I think the city council learned that lesson a long time ago. It was a dystopian utopia for us, but it grew out of failure. When I 1st went to university they warned us never to set foot there. I said, ‘But what if you live there already?’ and there was an embarrassed silence. They really hadn’t expected a poor boy from Hulme to be in the room. Now they own half of it and it’s all student Halls of Residence.  

The city centre has been regenerated, redeveloped & gentrified. We can’t afford to live there anymore, and people like me are pushed out. Hulme was a failed social housing experiment, an eyesore & an embarrassment to the people who had commissioned it. People like me moved in & we made it our own. They’re never going to allow anything like that to happen again. Every quaint old fashioned pub that closes becomes a block of flats. The footprint is too valuable to property developers. One day all we will have will be faded photographs to bear witness to a very different way of living.

Was it through the Crescents that you started shooting graffiti? 

When I first arrived in Hulme I’d just spent 3 years living with mates in a couple of houses elsewhere in the city. It suddenly struck me that that part of my life was over and I had very few photographs of that time. I’d been too busy learning photography, taking the kind of photos that every art student takes: Broken windows; abandoned buildings, and bits of burnt wood. I vowed I wouldn’t do that again. I began documenting the life that was around me.

I started with the architecture, as it was quite unlike any other place I’d ever seen. It had a desperate, faded beauty even then. The whole estate had been condemned for demolition before I arrived, but the city council had given up on the place long before that.  

I started to notice graffiti pieces going up, seeing the same names repeated. It was obvious that there was a small group of writers trying out their styles on a large canvas for the 1st time. Wanting to claim this derelict space as their own Hall Of Fame. I started to document them as they sprang up. Then I noted that context was crucial, and so I began to include the soon-to-be-derelict buildings in the images also. The shapes & colours of the graffiti looked positively psychedelic beside the drab monochrome of the setting.

With your graffiti shots, you show a lot more than just the pieces. Was it an intentional thing to show the act behind it a bit?

Because it was Hulme and no-one cared, these guys weren’t working in the dead of night like most graffiti writers do in the train yards and what-have-you. They were working during the day, right out in the open. So, documenting their work, it wasn’t long before I ran into Kelzo. He really didn’t trust me at first, but I kept coming back. So, I got to know them. They started to let me know where they were going to be painting next.

In 1995 Kelzo organised the 1st SMEAR JAM event (named after a young aspiring writer who used to come down to Hulme to learn, and had died suddenly from a nut allergy). That was such good fun that another event arrived the following year, another & another. Graf writers came from London, Edinburgh, Leeds, Sheffield, and as far afield as Spain. The local community came out to support and, as usual, it turned into a party that lasted all weekend.  

I got into the habit of taking 2 cameras. One loaded with B&W film to capture the event itself, and another with colour transparency to document the finished artwork.

Graffiti… hip-hop… kids getting ice cream… I suppose there’s a few different subjects there, but was there an underlying thing or theme you wanted to show with your photos? Maybe getting a bit philosophical, but they’re all quite free acts—is it about enjoying what’s there?

It was more about documenting the life I saw around me. Moving to Hulme was what led to me capturing graffiti, and graffiti led to hip-hop events. Once Hulme was demolished I moved my camera into the city centre and began photographing club nights. House and hip-hop turned into Drum’n’Bass, and then dubstep. Residents and warm-up acts have now become headliners in their own right. Manchester has always been a great city for music, and it kept me busy throughout the naughty Noughties. I’ve pretty much retired from all of that now. I’d had enough after over 15 years of it. I no longer feel compelled to document something as ephemeral as a club night anymore when half of the audience are doing it themselves anyway. Then coronavirus came & properly killed it all off. I don’t know what it’s going to be like now going forward, but it’ll be someone else’s turn to document whatever that is.  

What do you think makes a good photograph? 

You need to have a good eye. You need to notice & be aware of the world around you. You always see an image before you create one. You don’t require expensive equipment. Mine never was. And you don’t need to be trained. It’s one of those areas where you really can educate yourself. A certain amount of technique and technical understanding goes a long way but, again, you can pick those things up as you go along.  

There are different kinds of photography, of course, but for me it was always about capturing a moment. The Decisive Moment, as Cartier-Bresson so eloquently put it. It’s something that the camera has over the canvas. For me the camera has always been a time machine. Like an evocative love song on the radio, it can transport you back immediately to a time & place long gone. It also acts as a witness for those people who were not there. Images tell stories. And we all like to hear and tell stories.

A couple of years ago I was invited to talk at the University of Lancaster for a symposium on documentary photography, which is a tradition that I had always considered my photographs sat within. But oddly, as I gave my slide-show presentation, images that I have seen and shown many times before, and thought I knew very well, I suddenly saw in a brand-new light. I could see myself in every image. Almost like a self-portrait from which I was absent but my own shadow cast large. I realised that I haven’t been documenting anything other than my own life. 25 year old images suddenly had something new to say, something new to tell me.  

Do you still take photos today? What kind of things are you into shooting these days?  

I don’t really do a lot of photography these days. I teach and facilitate as part of my job now. I still do the odd event but night club photography is a much younger man’s game. I really don’t have the levels of commitment, energy or enthusiasm I once did. I feel like I’ve taken enough images. If I never took another photograph ever again, that’s OK. Maybe, perhaps, I’ll get into a different kind of image making in my twilight years … but for now I’m trying to reassess the images I made 25 years ago. People are far more interested in them now than they ever were at the time. Now they have become documents of a time and place which has gone. The graffiti and the walls that they were written on have disappeared. Many of those night clubs have closed. Time moves on. The images and the memories are all that is left.  

Over all those years, how has the art of photography changed for you?

Back when I started taking photographs, where I lived in Hulme, the kind of music that I was into, the magic of a night club moment, there were very few people I knew of who were doing the same thing. Now I am aware of others who were. Almost everyone is their own photographer now. Mobile phones & social media have given a platform for anyone to make & share images of their individual lives, whether it be their friends & families, holidays, public events or more private & intimate moments. Anyone can document their own lives now, so I no longer feel that I have to. I do still love photography, it’s still my favourite form of art, but I don’t feel compelled to capture it all anymore.

I suppose I’ve pestered you with questions for a while now. Have you got any wise words to wind this up with?

If you want to become a photographer you must learn your craft. Keep doing it, and you will get better. But you must remember to always be honest. Make honest images. Listen to the voice of your own integrity. Don’t worry too much if no-one sees any value in what you do. If you’re any good people will eventually see it. It may take years, it did for me, but images of the ordinary & everyday will one day become historical, meaningful & extraordinary.  

We live in a world today mediated by images, a Society of the Spectacle, but we still need photographers: People who have a good eye, an innate feel for the decisive moment; what to point the camera at and when to press the shutter. The images that you make today will be the memories of the future.  

See more of Al’s photos here.

[bazwillendinflames]

Norkus Nov - Pining

Norkus November day 5 - Pining 

Read on AO3

 This was the last time Markus borrowed one of Leo’s old suits. Despite his brother’s poor lifestyle, he was still a bigger build to Markus. The jacket hung a little loose in the shoulders. The only thing that did fit well were his boots, a pair of scuffed red Doc Martins that Markus was studying with the kind of focus he probably needed more of in college. Usually, his focus at these kind of things was the art itself - even now it still amazed him how talented Carl was - but now he just wanted to be invisible. 

Most people would take the hint when the person who just made eye contact hides in a corner and looks down. But North had always been especially strong willed and stubborn, so before long a pair of silver boots appeared in his line of sight. Markus half-expected a drink over his head. 

Instead, he was met with an almost friendly voice. “I never thought I’d see the day Markus Manfred hides in the corner at a party.” 

“I’m not hiding.” 

“Sure. That’s why you won’t even look at me.” 

He looked at her. North hadn’t changed - same deep brown eyes, same little scar over her eyebrow from a fight in a half-way home, her hair was even in a long braid down her back. In other ways, it was like a whole different person. She stood taller (she was wearing heeled boots) and looked better in a suit than he did; North’s was dark blue and velvet. She was smiling at him too, despite everything; Markus had missed her so much hurt and now the wounds were fresh again. 

“You look good.” 

“I sure hope so.” North stroked the velvet blazer. “This is no thrift shop find. The blazer alone was nearly a hundred dollars.” 

That would have been nothing to Markus’ family but neither of them mentioned it. 

“Really, you look good.” 

Finally, she took the compliment. “Thanks. Wish I could say the same but-” 

“I know.” He held up his arms so she could better see the ill fit. “It’s Leo’s old suit, not mine.” 

“At least the shoes are familiar. Back to our punk rock days.”

“Our punk rock days aren’t over yet.” 

There was a twinkle in North’s eye that he had missed. “Even if you’re dressed like a failed rock star.” 

Markus played with the baggy sleeve. “I had to get ready on short notice.” 

“You weren’t already planning on coming?” 

“I was meant to stay in Washington over break.” Markus was busy there, that was all. 

“Right.” The soft smile on her face dropped. “Is your Dad okay?” 

“He’s getting better. Something came up. Um, Leo.” Markus didn’t offer any more explanation. Once he would have told her everything and cried in her shoulder over yet another of his brother’s relapses. But they had lost their past closeness (he had) and Markus knew he didn’t have the right to anymore, so he changed the topic. “How come you’re here?” 

“I’m a big artist now.” 

Markus still hadn’t forgotten all their shared art classes. North had spent more time doodling on his arms than her sketchbook. “Really?” 

She laughed. “No. I work here. I’m um, training to be a manager. Carl recommended me for the job actually.” 

“Oh, he didn’t mention you’d be here.” Markus was sure his Father was scheming. That would be typical of him. Carl was always joking North was like a daughter to him. He had been hinting he’d like her to be a daughter-in-law too for an embarrassingly long time. 

“Sorry if I ruined your plan of hiding from… everyone.” North played with the long braid that fell over her shoulder. 

(That fact he had been trying to hide from her went unsaid.) 

“No, it’s good you’re here,” Markus said. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

North sighed. “I should get back to work. But save me a dance later?” 

“Promise.”

She strode off, leaving Markus alone once more, feeling much more guilty than before. 

Maybe it would have been easier if North had been angry. (She was so furious when he left her behind.) But North had seemed to accept her fate as the one who got away (did she realise that’s what she was to him? Did she understand it was hard for him too?), she seemed so mature, grown up, whilst Markus sulked in a corner. 

He should leave and save them both further heartache. But the truth was that Markus couldn’t bare to let her down again. Not after making a promise. 

  When Markus was younger, he used to love coming to these kind of things. Art galleries, openings, fancy galas in tiny suits. He used to push his Father’s chair around, pointing at empty spaces on the walls and declaring that one day his art would go up there too. 

After he made friends with North, they’d sneak out during the long speeches and poke at the art. He told her once, shyly, he’d be in these galleries one day. 

Now it was North who was in her element here. She moved between guests, laughing a little too loudly at jokes, and her staff. In her suit, she looked like some kind of awesome business woman. But despite all that, when Markus watched her stop and admire a painting, he could still see the young girl who touched the art when she wasn’t allowed and pulled him by the hand into trouble. 

Markus knew he shouldn’t have promised her a dance. The last time they had danced was at prom, which felt like a lifetime ago now. North had been the one in second hand clothes then - a long black dress that her sister had worn to her own prom - and he’d worn a smart suit of his own. (It was still in his wardrobe at home. Markus had chosen Leo’s suit to avoid the memories.) They’d gone as friends, even if Markus desperately wanted more. He’d never come as close to kissing her as that night. 

North walked past, in conversation with some art critic. She rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. (God, he had missed her so much.) 

One dance, he promised himself, one dance and then I’ll let her go. 

    “You’re still here.” 

Something about the relief in her voice left Markus with a prick of guilt. It was well deserved at least, he was a guilty prick, and he had left before after… 

He didn’t want to think of that night. 

“I promised you that dance.”

North took the hand he offered to her. She seemed a little stiff at first but she didn’t pull away when he put his hand on her hip (as respectfully as possible; North was a bit jumpy at that kind of thing). 

I told you I would wait

I said I'd wait for you to come my way

“I was so furious at you.”

“North-”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it. But after all this shit you’ve put me through, I think I deserve to say my piece.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

They swayed to the soft music. 

Talk to me, talk to me

You can't just stare right through me

Talk to me, talk to me

You can't just walk right by me

“I mean really furious. I was happy to rip off your stupid head the next time you came back. So maybe it’s for the best you didn’t. I have known you for my entire life and you have never cared how different we are. And then, all of a sudden, you’re packing for Washington without even telling me you were accepted.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t mind that you wanted to leave Detroit. But you left me behind. I would have gone with you.” 

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you let me?” North fixed her big brown eyes on his. “It wasn’t your choice.” 

“You shouldn’t have to follow me.” 

“I should have a choice. It seemed like you found a new life and wanted to ditch me.” 

“What changed?”

“That’s what I asked too,” North said. “But I guess you mean why I stopped hating you.”

“You hated me?”

“How could I not? You left me behind to pine after you like an idiot.” 

You never said why you went away 

We'll meet again in Deception Bay 

You promised you would be here to stay 

“I was scared.”

“So was I,” she replied, voice soft. “When I was younger I thought we were going to be together forever. And I know that you felt the same. I thought you were just waiting for high school to finish first. I thought… the way you looked at me at prom, Markus, you gave me such hope. And then you ran away.” 

“I didn’t know-” 

“Of course, I love you Markus.” North seemed to shuffle closer to his chest. “So imagine how it felt when you left me behind. No call, no note. I could have dropped you at the airport.” 

“I thought if you followed me to Washington and hated it… all those years would be tainted.”

“I’m not a painting!” North snapped. They had stopped swaying. “You can’t preserve me in a perfect moment forever. You never even gave us a chance.” 

Markus could feel her slipping away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think-” 

“I can tell.”

The song was drawing to a close and Markus could feel himself losing her, just like he had feared all those months away. 

I called you from the car

I called to say that you have left a scar

I called to say that you hurt me the most

By far

“Look,” North said, quieter now, “when I said I love you, I meant it, present tense and all. But I got sick of pining for you a long time ago.” 

“Wait, don’t-”

“Don’t what? Push back? Give up on you?” 

Markus sighed. “Don’t go.” 

“You know, if you had visited before now, just once, just one weekend, I would have stayed,” North said, “but you’re here because of some family drama you won’t even trust me with. I would have stayed if I didn’t think this was the last time I’d ever dance with you.” 

“Don’t go.” 

But it was all too late. 

[mockmollyprewettblog]

application under the cut

GOOD AFTERNOON. ARE YOU WILLING TO GO ON RECORD FOR THE DAILY PROPHET?

hello, my name is brittany, i am 26 years old. almost 27 in less than a week. i currently work 5 days a week, except weekends. i usually inform admins of when i will be absent or when i’ll be busy. est is my timezone and i go by she/her pronouns.

i’m also moving soon, but my motivation is STRONG here.

INCREDIBLE. TO START THINGS OFF, PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF.

please provide us more information about your character in this format:

was that KATIE STEVENS walking around the halls of hogwarts? i wish it was them, but it was really just MOLLY PREWETT, the SEVENTEEN-year-old SEVENTH year student at hogwarts. they come from a PURE BLOOD family, and people tend to describe them as COMPASSIONATE, CHEERFUL, AUDACIOUS and FINICKY. they can be seen around hogwarts hanging in the GRYFFINDOR common room and in GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM. i hear they’re planning on JOINING THE ORDER once the war starts and that they’re planning on KEEPING QUIET ABOUT IT. i can’t wait to see how this turns out for them.

NO, SWEETIE, DON’T GIVE ME THAT FORMAL TREATMENT. I WANT TO KNOW MORE, WHO ARE YOU REALLY?

these were headcanons for another rp & a few other things. most of this is very much a modern day molly! be warned it is A L O T !!

molly prewett

+compassionate: feeling or showing sympathy and concern for others.

+generous: showing a readiness to give more of something, as money or time, than is strictly necessary or expected.

-protective ( more accurately overprotective which will be defined here ): having a tendency to protect someone

-imperious: assuming power or authority without justification; arrogant and domineering.

-bossy, +fun-loving

-sassy, feisty

walking through the candle lit halls of hogwarts is ,one, molly weasley; mob of dark red hair sweeps the back of her robs. sass escapes her throat with out faltering. far too confident for her own good, molly's smile can brighten even the darkest common room. an iridescent glow flows from her aurora, molly is kind-hearted, caring, and wants the best for those she believes are important to her.

i. growing up with two brothers never was a burden to molly, it was easy to assume of the bossy mother figure. both mother's brought out a different side in the tiny red-head. in her entire life mother had never adored two beings more than her brothers. even when they were arguing over who was the better witch/wizard they'd all break bread as if nothing had happened.

ii. molly's heart is too big for her body for to carry; she has so much love to give, it shines in the iris' of her eyes. though she is this caring girl, it usually only develops more & more for those closest to her. trying her best to give every one a slice of the warmth she has to give.

iii. watching someone across the room, molly has a sixth sense, she can tell when they're an amazing person. usually watching for body language & cues to help her on her way. more often than not, molly finds someone remarkable to become friends with. to turn someone down it would have to take a lot for her to pluck up the courage. hoping to keep strong ties with everyone.

iv. being of a pure-blood family molly tries her best to follow by her family's example. blood is rather important to the prewett family. despite this molly has no problem with those who are of muggle born or half-blood.

v. molly could talk about any topic for a long period of time. sometimes she becomes so passionate about something, it sticks. it is physically impossible for her to contain her excitement.

vi. while being very talkative molly can keep any secret. she believes that loyalty is very important to any friendship. to be a loyal friend is something molly wholeheartedly believes in. betrayal is a sin in her eyes.

vii. molly was most excited to meet the ghosts of hogwarts especially nearly headless nick. who became quite a good friend to her as the years went on. they exchange civil chat about things while molly walks to designated areas.

viii. enjoying strolls passed the great lake always gives the redhead a shot of adrenaline. especially during the late hours when everyone is asleep in their beds. molly really loves the sense of adventure when going somewhere that is essentially off limits.

ix. meal times are a favorite pass time for the redhead; she rather likes home-cooked meals. the sense of being together really warms the cockles of her heart. a good conversation at dinner can really put her in the right mood when she returns to her dorm.

x. molly is one who has always known what she's wanted. once she's transfixed on something, her mind, will never be changed. she is far too passionate to give up on someone or something.

xi. being a friendly to humans is not the only thing molly is good at. she adores the animals in her life. picking out her cat for hogarts was the happiest she had ever been. animals are so pure according to molly. they know nothing of the world & know not hate. when alone molly loves to play with her black cat named gemma.

xii. muggle life had never fascinated the witch until the moment professor dumbledore introduced it to hogwarts.  everything really blew the redhead away; she vowed to figure everything out, wanting to be in the know of everything muggle.

xiii. currently has her sites on a red iphone for her future phone.

xiv. never believed she was much of a girlie girl, nor did she really know what it meant. when social media came into play molly really found herself enjoying online shopping. taking every opportunity to see what was in trend. not that she felt there was enough beauty to fit in such beautiful clothing.

xv. loves to listen to music whilst alone; dancing, though, terribly is something she also enjoys.

xvi. sometimes suffers from bouts of insomnia. in the early hours of the morning molly usually finds herself finishing whatever lessons or homework she did not finish the night before. usually she gets four to six hours of sleep. sometimes eight when she's having a good night.

xvii. takes pride in her witty/sassy/feisty retorts.

xviii. owns a necklace with an 'm' pendant in honor of her name. she rarely, if ever, takes it off.

xix. some classes force molly to daydream out of boredom. or sometimes her hand begins to doodle to keep her mind straight. becoming easily stressed when unsure of something is the norm for molly.

xx. halloween is her favorite holiday to celebrate at hogwarts. christmas is her favorite when heads back home to see her family.

xxi. when she found netflix the first show she ever binged watched was sherlock. becoming so engrossed in what was going on. sherlock holmes has since been her favorite character. the mystery of it all really intrigues the witch.

xxii. when feeling frustrated, molly will write in her diary. describing every little thing that has gotten to her. in detail.

xxiii. isn't really much bothered with many things. however, it's always her mouth that gets her into trouble. being careful is not molly's strong suit.

xxiv. other things molly does in her free time: sew, reading, cleaning to calm herself, and write letters to home.

xxv. though she is not the smartest in her class ( according to her ) molly rather loves to get her school work done. some subjects just rather bore her to tears. molly always strives to do her best in the subjects she dislikes. she always excels when subjects are her absolute favorite.

AND HOW IS SCHOOL GOING FOR YOU?

Charms Club.

LOVELY. THAT IS ALL FOR NOW, BUT BE SURE TO STAY TUNED IN CASE ANY MORE QUESTIONS POP UP.

i have a mock blog ( HERE ) with a ooc para sample ( HERE ) !! i had moodboards, but i’ve misplaced them. so i’ll have to redo them at a later date.

[babylon-bitch]

Just Friends (part 17)

My parents and I have arrived at our house in England. I love this house, it's full of childhood memories. Like the time I caught my finger in the door and Josh shut the door, causing my finger to break. Fun times. "So the boys are here around 6, and every one is coming round in an hour or so." My mum informs my dad and I. "What's the time now?" I ask. "Half four." My dad answers for her. I nod and text Luke saying I got here safely, because I kinda forgot to tell him (even thouh he was on my mind the whole flight), I guess I was busy with unpacking. Me: hey sorry I forgot to text you when we got here, I was busy. X Luke: its fine :) when are you going to see everyone? X Me: well it's half  four now, and they are coming in an hour or so, the boys are coming at 6. It must be around 2 or something there. Am I keeping you awake? X Luke: no, can't sleep. You jet lagged? X Me: a bit, but I slept most of the flight. X Luke and I continue to talk for half an hour before he decided to go to bed (and me nagging him to). "I'm going to go freshen up." I say, because I'm in a hoodie and some sweatpants. I change into a cropped sweatshirt and some jeans. Putting on some light make up and brushing my hair through, I spray some perfume to finish. I've got 15 minutes so I'll paint my nails. Looking through all my nail polish, I decide to go with black. I buy so many different colours, yet I always seem to go for black. Eh 10 minutes later I'm done and they are all dry. I fucked one up though, I'm quite good at painting them, I just don't have the patience. Going down the stairs and walking into the kitchen. Grabbing an apple and a knife, I walk to the lounge again. "Prison Break huh?" I ask my dad. "Yeah, I was planning on taking some notes." He jokes and I laugh slightly. "Funny." I sarcastically reply. I cut a slice of apple and putting it my mouth. "Door!" I call out. "You couldn't possibly get it?" My mum huffs as she walks in. "My legs broke." "Lazy cow." She mutters. "Heard that!" I shout out to her. "Hello!" I hear loads of people cheer. Suddenly realising that I have a huge family, a lot of cousins, it's only me, Evie, Josh, and Angus that are the older ones. My mother and father had me and my brother's quite young, as well as Evie's parents. I have loads of small children cousins. Everyone was around my grandparents house and then they all came here. As dad has joined us again this Christmas, we have even more people. My mum and I cooked a load of food before hand, well some of it is still cooking. I walk towards the door, where everyone is take off their coats and shit. "Hello." I greet. "Harper! How are you?" My grandmother asks. "I'm good thanks, you?" I reply. "I'm very well, thank you. It still amazes me at how beautiful are, I swear you get even more beautiful every time I see you! Long legs, lovely hair, beautiful body shape." My grandma gushes. "Aww grandma stop!" I smile in embarrassment. "All the boys must be all over you!" She winks. A certain boy comes to mind, causing my face break into a huge smile. "Well, I have my moments." I joke. She laughs and walks through. "Har Har!" My cousin Toby beams as he attaches himself to my legs. "Hello." I say poking his little stomach. My other cousin Emily latches onto my legs as well. "Babe, I can't hold both of you." I tell her. "Well I could, but I don't want." "Why do I attract children?" I ask my aunt Lauren. "Because you are so kind and caring." She smiles. Lauren walks past me, "and keep them with you for a while, they've been latched onto me all afternoon." She whispers into my ear. "You evil son of a-" "Children around." She cuts me off. Reuben and Lilly walk off with Lauren, so I'm left with Toby in my arms and Emily at my feet. "Oh fine, c'mere." I give in and scoop up Emily and we walk off towards the lounge. "Aww look." My mum cooes. I roll my eyes and put toby and Emily down. Sitting down on the floor, because all the seats are taken. Reuben picks up the knife, I had for my apple. "No!" I quickly say and take it of him. Deciding I'm done with it, I walk into the kitchen and put it in the bin. "So Harper, how is life in Australia?" My uncle Robert asks as I walk in. "Um, same old really. School is quite busy, hanging out with friends." I answer as Lilly plays with my hair. "Oh, how is Luke and um the others?" Lauren questions. "Umm, they are good, they are all going on tour in March, we're all excited for that." I reply. "I would've done anything to be friends with a band when I was younger. Just seeing them in their element." My grandpa chimes in. "It is nice, seeing the people you love be so happy." I smile and bite my lip remembering all the fun times we've all had. Everyone drifts into a conversation about their childhood, and all the retro stuff they had. A piece of paper is thrust upon me by Emily. "What do you want me to do with this?" I chuckle. "Draw." She demands. "Dance monkey, dance." I joke. I pick up a coloured pencil and start doodling. Why do I seem to attract all the children? They're constantly poking me, playing with my hair, making me play games. Don't get me wrong, I love them to bits, why me? Why not aunt Lauren? After 15 minutes of drawing, I lay on the floor letting out a groan. I'm too tired for this. Hopefully Evie and the boys will be here soon, so I can 'play' with them. "Is it hard work having four kids prodding you and making you play imaginary games?" Lauren questions in amusement. "Yes, but it's not as bad because I'm just colouring and being poked." I her. "Like why do they keep poking me with pencils making me spaz out?" I claim. "Well, I have to deal with it 24/7." She laughs. I hear the sound of a camera shutter going off, and I groan. "Why?" I half-heartedly chuckle. "Because it's funny." My mum says. I roll over onto my side (very sociable with my back towards everyone) and pull my phone out, scrolling through instagram. "Kids these days." I hear someone mutter. "Heard that." I mumble. "The three other devils will be here in a couple of minutes." My mum informs everyone. "Oh my God, the four of them all together. Prepare for some sass, moody teenagers, and anti-sociable teens." Robert says. "Hey we aren't that bad." I defend turning over. "Pfff, yeah right." My dad adds. I roll my eyes and get a drink. "Plus the others aren't teenagers." I call over my shoulder. The doorbell goes off and I race towards it, I need some people my own age. "Josh!" I grin. "Hey lil' sis." He greets. I roll my eyes and hug him anyway. "I'm glad your here, I need people my age." I sigh. "I take it a bunch or 3 to 6 year olds aren't doing it for you?" Evie questions as I pull her into a hug. "Nope." I reply. "Har Har!" Angus teases. "The amount of times I've been called that this afternoon." I shake my head head, and Angus pulls me into a hug. We all walk through to the lounge, and a bunch of kids come running towards us. Everyone says their hellos and gives out hugs. "Right, let's get seating arrangements sorted." My mum says to the adults. Us four go into the the lounge. "So how was Dubai?" Evie asks. "I saw your Instagram, and it looked really cool." Josh adds. "Yeah, it was really nice. Luke and I had been drifting apart, and it brought us closer together, well I think at least." I say replaying the moment Luke and I kissed. "Yeah, that picture your mum posted on her Instagram, was well... you tell me." Evie smirks. "Since when did mum have social media at all?" I panick. Angus pulls his phone out and shows me, I scroll through it. "So that's where those people have been getting those pictures." I realise. I look at the photo, and its me facing Luke and sitting on his lap, with my arms resting on his shoulders, and Luke's hands on my waist. I mean, it looks cute. "So what's going there, Harps?" Josh smirks. "For the last time, we are just friends." I huff. It's true we are just friends at this moment in time. "Yep." Evie hums. I roll my eyes. "So how's uni?" I ask. "Really busy, I've got a couple of pieces of 'home work' to do whilst I'm home." Josh replys. "We went to this crazy party, the other weekend and we all got smashed." Angus tells me." "Dude! Why did you tell her?" Josh scolds. "It's not like Harper hasn't gotten wasted before." Angus points out. "Eh, I've had my moments." I admit. "I bet you drunkenly made out Luke, or at least one of the boys." Evie laughs. "Oh my God, your worse than the fans." I laugh. "She definitely ships you two, like her life depends on it." Josh pokes at Evie. "I just think they'd be cute together." She shrugs. "You've only met him like three times." I claim. "Harps, pass the remote." Josh asks, extending his hand out. "Catch." I tell him and throw it at him but it hits Evie in the head. "Shit! Ouch!" Evie shouts. "Still after 17, nearly 18 years, you still can't throw for shit." Angus teases. "Shut up, it's not my fault Evie has a big head." I laugh. "Bitch." She mutters. "Bish." A little voice says. I look down and see Lilly. "No, don't say that. It's a bad word." Evie scolds. "But you said it." She says. "Like to watch how this pans out." I laugh. "Well, I'm a grow-" Evie gets cut off by Lilly running off screaming "bish!" I love children's pronunciation. I quickly get up and chase after her. "What are you doing, you little rascal." I laugh as scoop her up. "Harper!" She squeals. I put her down and she runs off towards her parents. Laughing as I walk with her into the kitchen. "How long till dinner?" I ask. "In a couple of minutes, so go sit down." My mum says as if I'm a child. Walking towards the others and picking up my phone. "Mum wants us to sit down." I tell them. They all nod and stand up. Angus walks up to me and turns around. "What are you doing?" I chuckle. "Jump on." He orders and lowers himself a bit. I scream at first and then burst into a fit of laughter. "Now I get on." Josh jokes as he clutches my shoulders. "No!" I warn. "It feels like Christmas." Evie claims. "Yeah, but that's not until 5 days." I point out. "Angus what are you doing?" I ask. He doesn't saying anything besides just dropping on to the sofa. "Fuck you." I laugh. "Aww." He teases but brings me into a hug, I shrug him off and walk towards the table. "Where are we sitting?" Josh asks Lauren. "That table." She point to a small table with four chairs around. "Guys, I think Lauren got the wrong table." Evie snickers as she sits at the children's table. I burst out laughing, because her knees are nearly by her shoulders. I sit next to her and the boys join us. Getting my phone, and taking a picture. "We are so weird." Josh chuckles. I stand up and sit at the suitable table. "How is Emily and Toby supposed to eat on their own?" Angus wonders. "They're three years old, I think they can manage." I answer. Emily and Toby are twins who are 3, Lilly is 5, and Reuben is the oldest being 6. After a couple of minutes of us all on our phones Josh speaks up "I thought we were supposed to be eating." "Well, while we wait, I'll put some music on." I reason. I start playing I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday by Wizzard. *** Many Christmas songs, meaningless conversations, and stuffed stomachs later, dinner is over. Evie and I are sprawled out on an armchair, all the others are either on a sofa or the floor. All the children are sleepy and its really cute. "Can you pass me my phone." I ask Evie. She hums a yes and reaches out for my phone on the table behind her. "Thanks." I smile and unlock my phone. Finding I have a missed call from the one and only Michael Clifford. Calling him back, because you know, it's polite. "Hey, what's up?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen, because I don't want disrupt anyone. "What did you do to Luke?" He dives straight in. "Elaborate." I tell him. "Ever since he's come back, he's been a smiley dork." He chuckles. "Isn't he anyway?" I laugh. "Yeah but even more so. Whatever you did, please do it again, because I like it. Luke's been an arse for past month, and it gets annoying after a while." He claims. Don't have to ask me to do it again. "I didn't do anything, but I'm glad he's happy." I reply. "I can hear your smirk from across the world." He tells me. "No you can't, I've got to go now, bye." I say. "Okay, but I know your hiding something, bye, speak to you later." He finishes off. "Believe what you want Mike." I giggle and end the call. "Who was that?" My mum asks. "Michael." I answer sitting back down. She nods and goes back to watching some soap opera. I go through the pictures on my phone of Dubai. "Look at this picture of Luke with a fish, and how proud he is." I tell Evie. When we went to the aquarium the first time and a fish seemed to be attracted to him (don't blame it), and he seemed so proud of himself. She laughs and goes back to her phone. Around an hour later, we are all saying our goodbyes. They're going to be coming back tomorrow or something though. "Bye!" I say as the door closes. "I'm going to bed because I'm tired as fuck." I tell anyone who's listening.