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“God, how painful it is, being angry.”

— Simone de Beauvoir, tr. by Justin O’Brien, from “The Woman Destroyed,”

I bestow upon thee; concept playlists

•classical music to sip tea to while contemplating philosophy and the next marble bust you’ll buy

•stealing books from the Oxford library with friends you never thought you’d find, in the snow, yelling about Ovid, lighting candles

•folky music for sitting on your front porch in the lazy evening sun, surrounded by your closest friends, gazing at a wheat field and singing along with a guitar in your arms

•feeling listless; like you’re walking the world alone, wandering with no destination, held in the arms of the earth and happy with that

•songs to sing LOUD in the car on a road trip going nowhere in particular

•staring out the window of a quaint coffee shop, watching the raindrops cling to the glass and thinking of all the poetry you’re going to write for that lover you left behind

•looking back on a long relationship and realizing all the ups and downs you’ve had as one, suddenly seeing it all in slow motion like a silent film

•laying back on your bed, smiling uncontrollably, thinking of all the beautiful, bucolic times you’re going to have in the sun with that person you can’t stop thinking of

•a rock in your rib-cage, sobbing on the floor, feeling empty; things are coming to an end and you can’t bear to see them go

•the first day of summer – sprawling yourself in the green & vivacious grass, heart shaped sunglasses perched on your nose; youth in all its glory

•songs that bring back days of your old glory, reliving your childhood and your golden days, tracing over the old scars and remembering how you got them

•the smell of old books, melancholy, songs that are so potent with a sort of wild and tragic longing that they’re almost dangerous

•looking out a car window; letting your eyes cling to weeping trees and then letting them snap back again. feeling self centered and tragical.

•literally just songs that remind me of Oscar Wilde and Bosie Douglas

•stuff that i’m listening to right now! always changing, songs that i’m playing on repeat

of course i have a lot of pent-up rage you fool i’ve been the same height since i was 12

I think another big thing with the Weasleys kids is the age breakdown. Percy is closer in age to Ginny than he is to Bill—that whole bottom five is squished together, and it creates some weird dynamics. When Harry meets the Weasleys, Percy Seems like the oldest. But he’s not *really.* He is very much a middle child. Even though he’s two years above the twins in School, their birthdays put them at closer to a year and a half…much closer than the almost four years between Percy and Charlie.

I always got the impression that Charlie and Bill were their own unit—and the rest of the kids were the babies. Now, Percy is kind of the leader of the babies, but he’s still a baby.

And that’s immediately apparent when Bill and Charlie come home in GoF. They are cool and sophisticated and looked up to…and Percy argues with his little brothers. He DOES get included with his big brothers in fighting the Death Eaters…but he drops back down quickly to the Kid Section as soon as the crisis is over.

It’s an awkward place for Percy to be, and I think it contributes to his Ugly Duckling syndrome. Because to his younger siblings, he vacillates wildly between being almost a peer to being Mum’s Second in Command. They don’t know what to make of him: will he play with them today, or is today a day where he’s writing a report to Mum? And his older brothers are just…too old growing up to really engage with him.

Percy’s in this spot where he needs to take a position of leadership and responsibility in the family—because Bill and Charlie leave for school and then work well before they stop being Needed at home—but Percy’s also so Young when that happens.

And Percy takes on that emotional burden. Sometimes smugly: “Ginny has Other Brothers to set an example for her,” sometimes with a temper that reveals how close in age he truly is to them (see: every interaction with the twins), but more often than not, it’s very sincere and poignant. Percy doesn’t ASK his siblings to like him. He seems pretty okay doing his own thing in life. But he Does constantly look to and move to protect them. He loves them in a way that’s really almost parental, when it’s all said it done. It’s flawed as a sibling relationship, and I hope that as they grow up, that weirdness in ages evens out and they can all relate to each other as peers. But it is something really interesting.

mythology family ♥︎ menthe for @221bcecil

in greek mythology, menthe was a cocythian nymph, and beloved by hades, was metamorphosed by persephone into a mint plant, or, according to others, she was changed into dust, from which Hades caused the mint plant to grow forth.

-,’ types of people ,’-

hogwarts: bloody noses, always trying their best, warm sunsets, late summer nights, sharing secrets, messy hair, movie nights, stargazing, wanting to explore the world, standing up for friends, dogs, loud laughs, fuzzy sweaters

narnia: pale white snow, red cheeks, hot tea, fantasy stories, neat notes, big scarves, early morning walks, soft smiles, cute coffee shops, calming energy, cold hands, friendly eyes, wanting to learn more, astronomy geeks

middle earth: ancient souls, coffee, old bookshelves, history nerds, loves mythology, feels at home in the forest, always up for an adventure, oversized hoodies, high grades, striving to be the best version of themselves, cats

neverland: believes in fate, doesn’t care about opinions, flower fields, standing up for what’s right, honey, photography, amazed by the universe, kind souls, often lost in their own thoughts, friendliness, loves the stars, artistic

fleur delacour falling in love with bill weasley because he sees her. his youngest brother looked and went hair-eyes-teeth-legs, thought body, thought sex. her whole life, men have been looking and seeing a thing, not a girl. since she turned thirteen and bud-breasts pressed up against her shirts and boys at school wanted to sit close, men back home lingered too long in hugs.

until she was fifteen she dressed herself in shame before she put any clothes on at all. wore everything a few sizes too big, a few inches too long. draped herself in thick fabrics to hide the body beneath them. never learned that hot eyes on her were the fault of their owners, not her. took the uncomfortable stares and the endless flirtation as a fact of life. was fourteen the first time she dared to say “stop looking!” and met only laughter.

it’s not until she’s nearly sixteen and her sister is turning ten that she sees eyes begin to slide over her and to gabrielle. a friend of their father’s, not even that deep into a bottle of wine, caresses a child-round cheek and murmurs a line from lolita, eyes too bright and lips too dry. gabrielle flickers a panicked glance around the room. that look is so familiar. the same hour fleur switches her baggy sweatshirt for a crop top and rolls her skirt over two inches. 

they will look at her. never at her sister.

at school, the same. at home, the same. slowly, she learns to be less ashamed of the looking. to play to the object they expect her to be. she comes to scotland and she’s the centre of attention. they hear her name pulled out of  the goblet of fire and all anyone wants to talk about is her legs in that skirt. she defeats a dragon and boys whisper all the dirty things they want to do to her just moments after they finish comparing cedric’s charmwork to krum’s reflexes to harry’s flying. they watch her pass in the hallways and their eyes glaze over like she’s a thing put there for their pleasure. 

fleur lifts her head high and lets the stares keep coming.

then she meets bill weasley, and not long after he asks her how she’s doing. asks it like he really means it, like it matters to him that she still gets nervous going around blind corners, that vines make her skin crawl and that the green flash of a hex makes her mind go too blank with fear to defend herself. he brings her a bottle of his favourite whiskey and sinks deep into it, tells her about his life and his job and asks about that night in the maze she doesn’t think about. he doesn’t look at her legs even once.

the next time she brings him her favourite wine and they share it. she’s giggling and silly by the end of the evening and he laughs with her, laughs at her like an equal and not like a thing he wants to fuck. he takes her to her door and leaves her in the care of her friends and he doesn’t do it because he thinks it’ll make scoring easier next time. doesn’t decide his actions based on which will result in sex the fastest.

he doesn’t ask her out until he’s laid himself bare for her, doesn’t even touch her until she reaches down and presses her fingers into his. the first night she feels brave enough to go home with him he keeps her up at the kitchen table until three am telling her all the things he likes about her. her physical appearance doesn’t even make the top one hundred. he says, how much you love your sister. how fierce you look when i take the last croissant. that funny french way you roll your ‘r’s. how you try to tell me jokes but laugh too much to finish them. how you know exactly how many children you want, and the precise shade of blue you’ll use to decorate your nursery. the bravery of you. the way your mind moves so fast sometimes i can’t keep up with it. the fact that i think you could do my job ten times as effectively as i can. they fall asleep on top of his covers, fully clothed, and the next morning fleur has to say yes i want this i am sure that i want this ten times before he starts to undress her.

his family call her all the things she’s heard a million times before. fleur lifts her head high and lets the insults keep coming. his brothers still sometimes look at her like they’ve forgotten to see a person, his mother mutters under her breath about fleur’s lack of suitability, his sister takes every opportunity to express her dislike. they see her beauty and they think they know her. they watch her move and they think she’s nothing more than her body and face. 

but bill weasley sees her. and fleur will not let anything—not a war, not lycanthropy, not a disapproving family—take him away from her.

“Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. Real gods require blood.”

— Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (via theclassicsreader)

Shakespeare Gothic

You were born on a ship at sea. No one survived the wreck but you. Or so you’ve been told. 

Your father has been dead for months, and your mother has remarried. He still comes to dinner every night and sits in his usual chair. Nobody can see him but you.

Your last lover disappeared. They told you she died, but they never let you see the body. The statue in the churchyard looks just like her.

Your pale white hands are stained with red. You wash them and wash them and wash them, but they will never be clean.

You find an infant abandoned on the beach. Your country does not have a coastline. You do not know where this ocean or this infant came from, and you do not ask.

The owls and ravens shriek wordlessly in the night, but you ignore their warnings. They are always shrieking about something.

You visit a faraway city where you have never been before. Everyone there knows your name.

You wake up alone in the woods. You have no memory of how you got there. You hear fey fairy laughter and someone singing in the darkness. You feel woozy, as if you’ve been drugged.

A girl you loved once tries to return your letters, even though you never wrote her any. Clearly she belongs in a convent. You burst into her bedroom half-dressed to tell her so.

You are invited to a ball and you go, despite the strange feeling that Death will find you if you do. You wear a mask. Death is not fooled.

Your young cousins went to visit their uncle last month. He says they never arrived, but you saw them playing in the garden. Nobody else has seen them since.

It is time for you to be married, but first your suitors must answer a riddle. If they guess wrongly, they die. Your love cannot save them. 

There is a storm on the heath. You do not know what a heath is, and you do not care. You are mad. You are naked. You are dancing in the rain. The storm never ends. 

theoi as Aesthetics™ cause i feel like it ig

Zeus

sunlight beaming through dark clouds, cold winds that burn your cheeks, lightning that illuminates the sky for just a fraction of a second, strong wings and sharp talons

Hera

golden rings slightly dulled after years of wear, lotus flowers floating upon pools of water, wedding gifts wrapped in gold paper, peacock feathers that glimmer in the sun

Poseidon

jagged rocks decorated by barnacles and seaweed, clouds of sand kicked up by a horse galloping across a seashore, rusted old treasures lost to the deep ocean, waves that lap gently over the sand or crash fiercely against the rocks

Haides

large dogs bearing sharp teeth, old coins blackened and rusted by time, animal bones half-buried under dark soil, silver rings on pallid fingers

Demeter

long grass brushing against your legs, freshly baked bread in a wicker picnic basket, golden honeycomb, fields of grain ready for harvest

Aphrodite

lipstick stains in shades of red and pink, doves perched upon blossoming branches, love letters written in smudged red ink, the opalescent underside of a scallop shell

Apollo

crowns of bay leaves resting on curly hair, golden instruments polished until gleaming, poems scrawled on walls in marker pen, bandages carefully wrapped over wounds

Artemis

feather-tipped arrows, flowers and leaves braided into a wreath, deer drinking from a brook in the forest, moonlight shining through the evergreen branches of tall trees

Ares

bandages over bruised and scratched knuckles, flaming molotovs soaring through the air, crossed swords mounted on old walls, fading scars that stretch across shoulder blades

Athena

books with creased spines and dog-eared pages, owls with thick feathers and wide eyes, ornate swords and shields from ancient eras long forgotten, sharp eyes full of wisdom and knowledge

Dionysos

limbs tangled in red velvet sheets, wild and uncontrolled laughter, garlands of ivy and purple flowers, red wine spilling over the glass, kissing the lips of marble statues

Hephaestos

gears that fit together like puzzle pieces, the soft crackling of a fire, palms stained with oil and soot, the methodic clanking of iron hitting iron, gifts of handmade jewellery

Hermes

shoes worn through from walking, antique maps and globes and golden compasses, a messenger bag filled with letters and parcels, sly smiles and deft hands

Hestia

warm clean sheets, a small vase of flowers on the windowsill, warming your hands near the fireplace, cups of tea and home-baked fairycakes

List of actual canonical things that Adam and Ronan are into and can be kinkshamed for, with textual evidence and sources cited in MLA format. All of these are 100% author confirmed:

Adam Parrish

Competency kink

“The two-minute disparity prematurely aged Adam Parrish. He liked it when people knew how to do their jobs.”

When Ronan gets his farmer chores done in an efficient matter? Oh boy. Adam cannot be more turned on. 

Adam Parrish, a known sapiosexual,

Derisively, Ronan said, “No. The ancient Greeks didn’t have a word for blue.” “What the hell, Ronan?” said Adam.

Ronan’s eyes followed the progress of the silent night horror. In a low voice, he said, “volat nullos strepitus facientibus.” “Fuck,” whispered Adam back, furiously. “Is that Ovid?”

Gets really hot and bothered when Ronan displays his knowledge about dead languages and Latin literature in a pretentious manner. Also when Ronan starts talking about the complexities of farming. 

Keep reading

James: Why are we lying in a parking lot?

Teddy: You just got your ass kicked unconcious.

Teddy: So I lied next to you so everyone would think we’re just chillin.

Random Teddy/James headcanons….

James won’t let anyone call him anything except James, except for Teddy who has about 100 different nicknames and terms of endearment for him and is the only one who would ever get away with it

Teddy always has chocolate in his pockets, and sometimes he forgets about it until after things have gotten a bit hot and heavy with James and he finds the melted sweets.  James always laughs at him, taking Teddy’s fingers with a wicked smile and licking it off.

James loves Teddy’s appearance, loves his piercings and tattoos and his wild hair.  It’s so unaffectedly Teddy; its bold and unforgettable.  But his favorite is when Teddy is sleeping, when everything sort of slips away and he’s so relaxed, his hair its natural plain brown and his face so relaxed.  James loves him like this the most not because he’s less of anything, but because James knows he is the only one who gets to see him like this.

No matter how old James get, or how long they date, he never seems to get tired of broomstick innuendo, sliding up behind Teddy at family dinners and gleefully whispering “Wanna go for a ride on my broom, Lupin?”

James has no shame. At all.  It isn’t long before the family stops looking for them when they go missing on holidays or celebrations because they already know what they’re likely to stumble upon.

No matter how much James pretends not to be sappy or sentimental, Teddy knows it isn’t true.  Teddy knows he keeps a box hidden under the bed with cards and travel tickets and little things Teddy has given him.

Teddy isn’t sentimental, not the way James is.  He doesn’t need bold romantic declarations and he doesn’t keep cards and letters.  All he needs is James, right beside him, all he needs is one touch or kiss to remember everything.

Harry: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me.

James: Okay, but in my defense, Teddy bet me five sickles I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Harry: That’s not what I-

Harry: You drank shampoo?!

Headcanon that Teddy was never really into sports, especially Quidditch. He had a passing interesting to support Ginny and James but that was all.

But somewhere around the time James turned 18, left Hogwarts and joined his first professional league Teddy realized he was arse over tit in love with him. So he started paying a lot more attention at the matches he went to with Harry, start casually asking if he could watch one of James’s team practices, and basically taking more than a passing interesting both because it mattered to James and because the game took on a whole new level of interest in the person he was secretly dating was one of the people up in the air. He found he suddenly cared very much whether James’s teammates were capable of protecting their seeker and what the other team’s formations were like.

And that’s when Harry starts to notice. Because suddenly Teddy is at every match, and rattling off statics when they go out to the chippy after work. But it’s not until James is at an away game, Harry and Teddy sitting on the sofa listening to the game on the wireless as a string of expletives leave Teddy’s mouth every time anyone comes remotely near James that all the pieces click into place.

“So,” Harry starts conversationally, “Can you believe McGee nearly knocked James off his broom.”

“Thundering Turbocunt,” Teddy hissed, wrapping his hands around his Guinness.

“They said they’re replacing Swift with McMillion for beater,” Harry said, sipping his beer and trying not to laugh.

“Fucking terrible call. Swift can’t protect James for shit. Are they trying to kill their best player?”

“Rumor has it they might put Flint in as the starting seeker next week instead of James,” Harry lied, watching as Teddy jumped off the couch and spilled his stout on his jeans.

“Fucking arseholes! They wouldn’t dare!”

“So,” Harry said, dropping his beer on the coffee table and smiling at Teddy, “How long have you been in love with James?”

“Wait, what?” Teddy spluttered, choking on his drink as Harry laughed. 

okay but...

Harry insists on buying a CD player for his home in London with Ginny. 

Curious, he buys her a CD, one that he knows a lot of Muggle girls like but he’s only ever heard in passing. (He’s had Dark Lords and Death Eaters to worry about, you know.) 

And within minutes he regrets his life choices because Ginny is rocking out to “I Want It That Way” by some boy band called the Backstreet Boys on repeat. 

She asks Hermione about them and they buy every single boy band album from the 80′s on. 

They continue this for several years as new albums come out and Harry has more or less given Ginny the CD player. 

(Not that he particularly minds because she’s actually kind of cute when she’s dancing and singing along with a young Teddy and she doesn’t think he’s looking.)

She puts headphones on her pregnant belly and tells James Sirius Potter that he’s going to be such a charmer. 

Harry protests that she’s going to brainwash their baby before he’s even born but when has she ever taken his half-hearted arguments seriously? 

Eighteen years later James Sirius is tall and broad, a chiseled mix of Bill’s height and Fred and George’s stockiness, and singing some song that he’s heard Ginny hum before and Teddy pretends he isn’t watching him with a lopsided smile. 

James pretends that Teddy isn’t pretending to watch him

Harry pretends that he isn’t seeing them silently flirt and mumbles to Ginny that it’s all her fault with a light smile on his face. 

Ginny laughs and continues braiding Lily Luna’s hair. 

“But he’s charming, isn’t he?” 

Harry looks up from his morning paper just in time to see James Sirius holding out a sunflower he conjured in his palm to Teddy and Teddy rolling his eyes despite his blush. 

“Oh, he’s good.” 

“And you said I was brainwashing him.” 

They share a glance and laugh together quietly, happy that their son is boy band trash/a romantic sap.

Probably James Sirius Studying

James : "Okay I'll start studying at 8:00."

*some time goes by*

*time is 8:01*

James : "Oh well, I missed it, I'll start at 9:00 then"

"quiet, they can hear us" jeddy<333

God, I love these two so much.

Huge family dinners were a regular occurrence in the Potter household.

Everyone brought food and drink (which mostly led to them having 8 bottles of wine and 10 different desserts)

People usually arrived in the same order as well.

Ginny would open the door for Hermione, Ron and the kids right on time. Next came Molly and Arthur a few minutes later. Fred’s family maybe 10. Bill and Fleur a few minutes after them and so on.

When it got past the hour mark, only James was left waiting by the door, sat on the bottom step of the staircase.

He’d entertain himself, picking threads from the carpet, until he heard the faint pop just outside the door.

He was up in a second, swinging the door open.

Teddy’s fist was still raised in a motion to knock. He didn’t have time to lower it, his smile hadn’t even fully formed on his face before James was pulling him over the threshold by the collar of his jacket and molding their lips together.

Teddy let out a surprised, breathy laugh into James’ mouth, before kissing back hungrily.

“Late. As usual.” James mumbled against Teddy’s mouth before pressing another hard kiss to it.

Teddy smirked, palms warm around James’ hips as he backed him up against the hall closet. His teeth scraped gently against James lip, “Waiting. As usual.”

James scoffed and Teddy leaned back, only enough so that he could see Teddy clearly. Their hips and most of their chests still pressed together.

“I wouldn’t have to wait if you weren’t always so late.”

Teddy grinned, “Why on earth would I be on time when instead I get kissed before I’m even through the door? Besides…” He leaned in again, nosing along James’ cheek, lips dragging along his jaw, “If I was on time, there would be family everywhere and we wouldn’t get to do this…”

James bit his lip, head falling back against the closet door as Teddy started placing open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck.

“Yeah…” James’ fingers curled into Teddy’s hair, eyes falling shut, “Maybe you should be late.”

“Mhm.” Teddy answered shortly, mouth otherwise occupied with one of James’ collarbones.

James only just had the mind to tell him off about leaving any marks, “I got way too many questions last time- especially from dad.”

Teddy withdrew his head and raised an eyebrow at James, “What was Harry doing asking questions about a hickey on your neck?”

“Because.” James said distressed, “He’s always asking if I’ve met anyone and then there was that so obviously I had met someone-“

There was a sudden voice from the other room, “James? Is Ted here yet?”

James’ eyes widened, “Speak of the devil.”

Teddy bit his lip, eyeing the already forming splotch of purplish-red on Teddy’s collar bone where his lips had been moments before, “C’mon.”

He hurriedly opened the closet door and yanked James inside after him before closing it as quietly as possible.

“What the-“

“Shh.” Teddy pressed a finger to James lips.

“James? Are you even out there?”

When no reply came again Harry sighed, leaning in to kiss Ginny on the cheek, “Be right back.”

Ginny nodded, “I swear to Merlin, if he’s eating the cake again-“

Harry laughed, before making his way into the entry hall. He was about to call out James’ name again when-

“What the bloody hell are we doing in here?”

Harry’s eyes instantly narrowed in on the closet - the source of what was clearly James’ voice.

“Quiet- they can hear us.”

Another voice. Harry tilted his head, risking one step forward, trying to figure out who it was. It was clearly a boy’s.

“Well, I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just gone out there and then, y’know, finished that off later, they’re gonna wonder where we a-“

“No… What they’re going to wonder about is… that…”

There was a beat of silence before, “Teddy!”

Ah, Harry thought, So Teddy.

Ironic really, that the two boys had taken to hiding something that practically everyone had already guessed about.

“The second I tell you not to- and then you already have- Jesus fucking christ, it’s the dead of summer I can’t wear a fucking turtle neck!-“

“I’m sorry. I can’t- you’r just so-“ A sigh, “I can’t help it..”

Harry smirked, guessing as to what they were talking about.

“Well- Well-“ James cursed, “Why do you have to be so fucking cute about it-“


“I’m not cute-“

“You’re bloody cute. Now let’s get out of here before anyone comes. I don’t hear anything, I think it’s safe-“

With a start Harry saw the door handle starting to turn. He tried to casually sprint back into the living room and huffed down into his previous spot on the couch.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Harry puffed, “Nothing. Why is something wrong?”

Ginny’s brow arched further. Harry endured her stare for only a moment before cracking.

He leaned in, “Y’know James?”

“Our son?”

“Yeah.”

Ginny shot him a look, “Well, yes Harry, I do believe I know James.”

“Oh.” Harry flushed, “Right. Well, y’know Teddy?”

“Yes. Of course, what are you-“

Harry was the one to raise his eyebrows this time.

“What- oh. Oh.”

Ginny grinned, “Well at least now we know why he never brings anyone home.”

Teddy: You made a lot of people around here uncomfortable.

James: That’s because they’re a bunch of bitch ass white boys.

Teddy: I hate to break it to you, but you are also a bitch ass white boy.

Headcannon : ( Teddy Lupin)

Can we all agree that:

Seeing that Teddy Lupin is just like Tonks; being a metamorphmagus.

Teddy morphing into people who are having a hard time whether they should dye or cut their hair.

So in that way, they can see what they would look like if they did it, also helping them if it looked bad/good on them.

“When are any of my kids going to get a girlfriend?”

Harry asked this aloud at the dinner table.

Both James and Albus tensed. Teddy snorted.

James’ eyes quickly flicked up to the multicoloured teen across the table from him, noticing the small smirk on the other boys face. If his father knew what went on between the two, God only knows what would happen.

It wasn’t that Harry was homophobic; he just hadn’t realised that his children were homosexual.

Albus’ mind flickered to the young Malfoy boy he shared a dorm with, a small smile growing on his face as he remembered tender touches from time spent at school. Perhaps just a peck on the lips or a hold of a hand, but it was enough to make the young boy blush.

Lily Luna glanced at her brothers, until she made direct eye contact with Teddy next to her. He raised his eyebrows jokingly, aware of her knowledge of what went on in her brother’s lives. She had been attending Hogwarts for three years, and was very observant, so it was clear to her that her brother’s were gay. 

As Teddy’s eyes shone with a certain mischief, the young girl took it as a challenge.

“Oh, I can invite her for Easter if you want, dad?” The bisexual young one smiled, “I’m sure she’d be delighted, she’s a big fan of not letting people die.”

“Oh,” Harry spluttered, “Yes, okay,” His eyes searched for help from his wife, until realising she was visiting her mother that evening, “Um, anymore confessions?” he carried on jokingly.

“I’m gay,” both of his sons stated in sync, as Teddy Lupin burst out laughing.

Jeddy headcanons (i need more of this ship in my life I'm)

(This is in a universe where everything is legal and consensual and the age difference is not creepy at all just in case) — - Teddy is totally the little spoon - James’s favorite hair color on Teddy is actually pink. - Teddy’s favorite part of James’s body is his collarbones - James could spend hours watching Teddy studying, because when he focuses really hard his lower lip kind of juts out in the most adorable pout. - Teddy blushes and sucks in his lip every time James points this out. - At first they were so reluctant to tell their family they were together, but ended up unintentionally making out in the Potter’s backyard for the whole family to see. (The unintentional part was the audience, not the kissing. Obviously) - Teddy loved the way James had a tendency to fall asleep while he played with Teddy’s hair. One minute the hand was moving, the other James was snoring softly. - They rarely fought, but when they did, they didn’t speak to each other for at least a week, after which each of them was too drained without then other’s company, and got back together without a word. - Lily Luna was literally the biggest shipper. She loved her three gay brothers. - Teddy and James were prone to fall asleep in front of the muggle TV at the Potter’s, tangled up in each other. Everyone wonder how that could ever be comfortable but they never asked - James said ‘I love you’ first, to everyone’s surprised. -Teddy said it less than half a second after. - Their first kiss happened under the willow by the lake (no, not the whomping one), in autumn, when they were freezing to death but too immersed with each other to either notice or care. - Teddy cried a lot about his parents. James was always there, no matter how many times. - Like his dad, Teddy had a tendency to self-loath, something he and James often fought about. - James just couldn’t believe how such an amazing human being could hate himself so much. He tried to prove every one of Teddy’s arguments wrong every day. - They loved each other so much.

“ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ sᴀʏ;

ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ”

There are many good reasons to be salty about Jewish representation in the HP universe but it actually does make sense, given 1991 UK population stats and Hogwarts’ implied size, for there to only be one Jewish Hogwarts student.

A discreet Portkey was set up for him once a year.  It was usually an empty bottle brought up from the kitchen, except for the time Fred Weasley managed to enchant all the bottles to hide themselves around the castle and explode into different colored confetti any time a prefect walked by.  That year, he had to make do with a biscuit tin.

  Anthony often thought that he’d just skip it.   He was usually only just digging into his classes for the year, and there was always at least three essays he would have to finish when he got back.  He sometimes started to write the letter to his mum telling her he’d be staying at Hogwarts before the guilt would overwhelm him.

  The truth was, he wasn’t sure he believed in any of it any more.  He lived in a world where bushes really did catch fire without flame, where water could be made to spurt from a stone.  Those wonderful, terrifying tales he grew up with could really be true- and that made him question his faith.

  But he went.  Every year.

  Every year, he felt the jerk under his navel, landed dizzily in the field behind his house.  Every year he entered the warm kitchen, smelling of freshly baked challah and sweet apples.  Every year he helped his mother clean up after dinner, licking the honey off the spoon she offered him as a treat.

  Every year he recited the same prayers, sung the same melodies, told the same lies to the friends and neighbors he saw at shul.  Every year, he felt the slight dizziness and unreality that came with fasting.  Every year, he watched as tears rolled down his mother’s cheek as she recited the Yizkor for his father.

  Every year, he cried too.

  And every year, when the kugel had been eaten and the kitchen was in a state of controlled disaster, Anthony Goldstein would kiss his mother on the cheek, gather up the leftovers she had neatly wrapped for him, and walk out to find the empty bottle in the middle of the field.

  And returned to the real world.

(Source: thejdc.convio.net)

L'shanah tovah, lovely followers!  May your new year be sweet and full of joy.

On Anthony Goldstein: Judaism in the Potterverse

[NOTE: I don’t know why I have been obsessed with this for like, the last week, but I have, so here you go. Also, I cannot believe an Anthony Goldstein tag actually exists on Tumblr. When I despair, I am reminded that no one quite obsesses over barely-extant characters like the HP fandom, and I love them for it.]

I find Anthony Goldstein a really fascinating way to think about the way that a Jewish character would fit into the wider spectrum of the magical world as realized by JK Rowling. On the surface, it shouldn’t matter. A Jew should’t be any different from any other minority culture shoved into Ravenclaw (which for what it’s worth seems to be the house that stereotypically high-achieving minorities get sorted into). And yet it’s a question worth thinking about, particularly because Rowling’s world is constructed on notions specifically Christian in character.

This largely boils down to the struggle of Absolute Good vs Absolute Evil, with terms of morality used as alternative names for God and Satan, two independent forces in eternal opposition.  This dichotomy isn’t really a thing in Judaism (Satan is understood as an agent of God). The books are ultimately framed in the context of this struggle, from the world building to Harry’s personal coming of age and fight against Voldemort. It is the very foundation of British Wizarding culture, and to not proscribe to this view would leave someone like Anthony Goldstein permanently alienated.  

Culture clash would arise for Goldstein out of such things as the notion of ‘the Dark Arts.’ In traditional Potterverse, the Dark Arts are 'Dark’ because of some evil that seems inherent in the nature of the creature/spell. The reaction toward such magic is 'defense,’ by either learning how to beat the creatures, or counteract the spellwork. Judaism would not, arguably, make the distinction between good and evil magic in such terms. They would not be mutually exclusive. Magic would be considered evil in the context of its practitioner, not so much in the particulars of a spell or beast. Specifically, magic would be primarily understood as evil if the one who uses it does so to render himself a God-like figure. The ramifications of this would be subtle but significant. Voldemort, for instance, would be evil not because of the magic that he uses, but because he uses it with the intent to elevate himself above the condition of man, and exact powers that humanity should not possess.

This would give rise to the question of whether any sort of magical power is permissible for humans, a question that I could see being an ongoing concern for Goldstein, particularly as he presumably lacks the presence and affirmation of other Jewish wizards in Hogwarts. I could  see Goldstein as someone predisposed to disciplines that require an individual to not see himself or herself in inherent opposition with a type of magic, such as Care of Magical Creatures.

Jewish tradition has a history of magic different from that of medieval Britain, from which a lot of the stock images and sentiment in Potterverse arises. Rather than identifying with Merlin, or the Witches burned at the stake, a Jewish wizard might instead look instead to the 'miracles’ of certain medieval Rabbis, or Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel and the Golem of Prague, or King Solomon. Demons instead of Goblins as the morally ambiguous, humanoid figure. Dybbuks instead of Boggarts. Magic derived from Hebrew as opposed to Latin. There is the potential that Goldstein would find himself, or his family, identifying with a magical past and identity that would have very little to do with that adopted by British wizardry, and by extension Hogwarts as a community and educational establishment. 

Then of course there is the fun of parsing apart the whose and wheres of Anthony Goldstein. Is he a North London Jew?  The next generation of an old British family? Or apart of one of the twentieth century Jewish-immigration waves? Is there a wider Jewish Wizarding community, or is he an anomaly? The last of a tradition? Judaism’s rich tradition of fantasy storytelling and folktales were largely wiped out along with the rural European communities that fostered them, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched that if there was a larger Jewish Wizarding community, it had all but vanished after the Holocaust, and that people like Goldstein represent what remains of a nearly-extinct subculture. 

 Anti-Semitism was historically a feature of elite British boarding schools, and it would not be unreasonable to assume that it would extend to magical ones, especially seeing as there is even less of an established Jewish presence in the magical community than the muggle one.  

Anthony Goldstein would likely never have a place where he could realize himself fully, constantly requiring to either subdue his magic, or his Jewishness in turn. He would find himself alienated on a fundamental level with the British magical community, and would be plagued by doubt when it came to the practice of magic. He would be perceptive and capable at communicating with magical non-humans, and would not see magic as a source of darkness, but the human thirst for power. He would distrust magical assertions of authority, and would find himself burdened with a past that his education has not equipped him to fully understand. 

ravenclaw theodore nott

for @snakepitnet event: taking a cannon to canon

the sorting was taking too long, while an eleven years old theodore nott shivered on the chair, praying for slytherin being screamed out, as his father was, as it should be

things seemed blurry and unfocused when the sorting hat shouted out a clear ‘ravenclaw’ and a stunned professor mcgonagall hurried him to join his housemates at the table

everyone looked at him like he had a troll head spurting out of his shoulder, but as theo sat down and clang to a cup full of water, he smiled to himself

because it was during the first night theo spent in the ravenclaw tower, looking at the very dark, very starry sky, lost in it’s infinity, that he felt truly free

his father’s owls were insistent and constant, but he knew that nothing could change the fact the sorting hat chose ravenclaw, the hat was never wrong

after the second week, the last owl he received from his father, was a single sentence letter, written angrily with dark ink “no son of mine is a ravenclaw”, and theodore nott smiled to himself again, overtaken by the same sense of freedom when he looked up at the sky from the ravenclaw tower

Keep reading

Ravenclaw headcanons because there's not enough Ravenclaw on my dash

Padma sneaking Parvati into Ravenclaw Tower all the time and letting her stay in her dorm room because Parvati is allergic to Crookshanks.

Anthony and Terry arguing over which twin is who because they are known to switch ties all the time just to mess with everyone.

Cho organizing parties after every Quidditch match win or lose. Marietta taking care of food and drinks because she has “connections”.

“Connections” meaning she flirts with the Hufflepuffs because they have a secret easy access to the kitchens.

Luna’s things disappearing and then reappearing around the common room two months later. Her shoes tend to pop up elsewhere though.

Luna having thoughtful Saturday afternoon conversations with The Grey Lady about being dead.

Peeves bouncing around the common room for hours every single Tuesday night without fail and as a result the library stays open two hours longer than usual so the Ravenclaws can study.

Anthony spending more time doodling in his notebook than doing classwork and getting caught by McGonagall.

Su Li having an eagle owl that basically hates everyone and the entire Ravenclaw table knows to duck whenever they see it coming through the Great Hall because if you so much as look at it the wrong way it will go for your hair. Or your breakfast.

Terry never making it back to Ravenclaw Tower before curfew and getting into arguments with the Tower knocker because the questions become twice as difficult after curfew to discourage late night stragglers. Clearly it doesn’t work on him.

Every year after CoS, the Ravenclaws make bets on what sort of shit Harry Potter is going to get himself into. His fifth year Padma made a few Galleons off the fact that Loony Lovegood got mixed up in it.

a harry potter au where potions is taught by gordon ramsay

Boyfriend Jungkook

Masterlist

Dates

Your first date was at the arcade

He thought you would complain but oh boy was he wrong

Once you stood in that damn arcade, you let your inner nerd out

“Oh my god! This is from like the 50s! This is amazing!” 

He’d be amazed about how much you know about games. He fell for you hard that night.

Date nights would be really chill with him

You’d go to Hongdae, get some food, buy some weird things you don’t even need.

He’d insist to pay for everything

One time you paid for your food and he got upset and didn’t talk to you for 10 minutes

When you feet hurt, he’d either carry you or give you his shoes even though they’re too big

He’d end up giving you a piggy back ride or throw you over his shoulders

Dates would be filled with teasing and making fun of your Korean, because you sometimes pronounce things weirdly

You’d make fun of him if his satoori came out

Skinship and Affection

This boy is too shy to even look at you if you’re in public

Nevertheless, he’d hold your waist if it starts to get too crowded

When you’re alone, that’s when he can’t keep his hands off you

He’d be grabbing your butt constantly, squeezing and pinching it

He loved your reaction to it so it became a habit of his

LOVES touching your boobs while you’re cuddling

He’d just cup one of your boobs lazily as you’re watching tv

I can imagine Jungkook showing his affection in a really cheesy way

Like he’d get you flowers once in a while

Buy you random jewelry because he thought it would look good on you

LOVES HUGGING OH MY DAYS

Loves kissing you on your shoulder and cheek because your skin just feels so soft

The boys would tease him whenever he’d call you “jagi” “nae sarang” or “my princess”

He’d blush really hard and hide his face in the crook of your neck which just made you giggle uncontrollably.

You reached the state in which he called you a “bitch” and you called him “bastard” or “Asshole”

But if someone else insulted you… OH SHIT BOI RUN 

Sex

You were his first and he was your first

Both of you were just so awkward and didn’t know what to do at first

Of course he had everything planned out perfectly but when it came to actually doing the dirty, he was freaking out

He didn’t even know how to take your bra off

Your first time was slow and careful. Both of you needed to get used to the new feeling. (it was great tbh)

Now, when he’s in the bedroom with you, he’s even more confident than ever before

Loooooooves teasing the fuck out of you until you beg for him to stop

The room would be filled with a mixture of giggles and moans

Can be a dom but also a sub. Depends on his mood, and yours of course.

Since he’s so young he’d be up to trying new things

He always wanted to try to handcuff you to the bed while he takes you from behind

Just the thought of it drove him insane

So when you said yes to his idea he didn’t know how to react (404 Jungkook error)

“How about we try this position?”

“Are you on a kama sutra website?”

“….yes”

Fights

Honestly, your fights would be about him playing hIS GOD DAMN GAMES TOO MUCH

Of course you didn’t mind him playing, you were actually quite supportive of his hobby, but his health was getting affected by it

“Babe your posture is so fucking bad. You look like Quasimodo”

“You look like Ursula, that’s not better”

After you kind of calmed down, he’d start to tease you in a loving way just to hear you laugh again

He’d be the first to apologize 

He hated seeing you upset and all he wanted was to make you happy again

You can’t stay mad at him for long, especially when he flashes you one of his precious bunny smiles.

When he’s away

He’d be so dramatic about him having to leave

Like you HAD TO DRAG HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE SO HE WOULDN’T MISS HIS FLIGHT

He’d pretend like he’s going off for war but his dramatic ass just made you laugh so much

But seriously though, he’d practically die without you

“You don’t know how to cook a god damn egg?” Jin would ask him angrily

“(Y/N) always cooks them for me”

He’d annoy his hyungs about how much he misses you and especially your cuddles

You were quite busy yourself so you couldn’t talk a lot 

but when you did, calls would last for hours 

And of course, he’d tease you about the way your messy hair looked and how you looked without makeup

You missed it so much

He wouldn’t necessarily do dirty talk while being on the phone or FaceTime because he didn’t want anyone to hear

But be prepared to get a lot of sexting when he missed you tad bit too much. 

All his calls and texts would end with “I love you my princess” or “Don’t you dare dream about anyone else but me you bitch”