#draw all of harry potter's friends badly challenge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

llendrinall · 4 years

Note

Omg what if Draco was also a spy for Dumbledore? Like imagine him biting his tongue when everyone is hateful and cruel to him cuz he's gonna have the last laugh when it comes out he was a spy. And in this version Percy still fucks off. Draco stays behind cuz he wants to see everyones reactions (especially his asshole boss that made his life fucking hell) He could be a seer in this and secretly became friends with Harry during Hogwarts. Idk, add whatever you want ❤

Ha! I don’t know why that “Idk” at the end made me laugh.

I have different mental versions of Draco. I can see him more or less happy, more or less certain of what he wants to do or of his relationship to the wizarding world. Other things are fixed, they are the things that make him Draco and appear in all versions of him, like:

1.- He can draw. He might have more or less practice, but he can draw pretty well.

2.- He is smart in the sense of doing very well academically, being able to understand something instantly. He doesn’t need to put many study hours, so he doesn’t.

3.- He doesn’t like Dumbledore. Regardless of his relationship to his father and Voldemort, he just doesn’t like Dumbledore as a person. It has nothing to do with how Dumbledore treats people (although that certainly doesn’t help) it’s more visceral. Just like some people will look at an actor or celebrity and go “no, I do not find Jimmy Fallon funny and can’t tell you why”. This is the same.

So Draco would never become a spy for Dumbledore. Dumbledore’s spy, hell no.

However, at some point Draco looks at Voldemort’s white flabby face and thinks “oh, no, I’m not doing this.” He decides he is going to work against Voldemort, but with whom?

(Draco is very proud of knowing when to use “whom” and also lives in fear of getting it wrong).

Draco has to find someone who can be an actual challenge against Voldemort. The Ministry is out because they are stupid, incompetent and infiltrated to the brim. And who else is there? Potter? Draco goes to class with Potter. He has seen how he spells, meaning both his charm use (Potter knows one a half spells and that’s it) and his orthography. He simply can’t consider Potter a serious contender against Voldemort. Nothing against him, Draco actually, (secretly) kind of likes the guy, but Voldemort can read minds, knows all kind of ancient magic and performs incredibly complex curses and conjurations.

Draco has seen Potter lick ice-cream out of his t-shirt.

If Draco wants to get rid of Voldemort, there is only Dumbledore. Draco doesn’t spy for him. He does nothing regarding Dumbledore that involves the preposition ”for”.

But he shares information. There is a “to” in there. Give information to Dumbledore. He can do that. Draco is quite smart, so he is able to deduce Voldemort’s strategy from little clues. He knows about Voldemort’s quest for information (both for the prophecy and the elder wand) months in advance.

This does not happen in the same universe as Percy Ministry Spy, but Percy is acting as a spy nevertheless. This means that Dumbledore has a pretty easy run setting his plans in motion and ensuring Voldemort’s defeat. It also means that he suffers though some absolutely miserable months which probably have something to do with his enthusiasm for the let-Draco-kill-me plan.

Each and every interaction with Draco is a reeling experience. Draco is not handing the information for nothing. He wants Voldemort dead by next month and when Dumbledore doesn’t deliver, he complains. He complains (note the italics). Draco doesn’t ask for the manager because there isn’t one, but he actually asks if Dumbledore has any older siblings Draco could talk to. You could say Draco acts entitled, demanding and full of expectations, but those words mean nothing. Draco breathes past entitlement to land somewhere between “Angel of Vengeance” and “Greek fury”, only instead of a flaming sword or claws, he has attitude and an excellent command of grammar. What a horrible little child.

Meanwhile, Snape has developed the habit of twisting every conversation so he can say “pity you don’t have any other orphan available to sacrifice” and “oh, if only we had a child to endanger” and “yes, but how can we solve this by killing a child?”. It is very rich coming from him. Dumbledore is not amused. Apparently there is a line for Severus Snape and that line is drawn when sacrificing oneself for the greatest good.

(“Ah, but it is not yourself who will do the sacrifice, is it?” Snape says, and a week later Dumbledore tells Draco that of course he will let him kill him. Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes as if somehow that wasn’t enough).

And then, there is Percy Weasley. Neither Snape nor Draco are supposed to know about him, but they both know and it is unclear how. Probably Percy himself let them know (no, he didn’t). He would do something like that (no, he wouldn’t). Percy is a horrid nightmare (he… he may be). Dumbledore despises him (and how!). Snape will talk about Dumbledore not doing the greater sacrifice but Dumbledore honestly can’t think of anything worse than working with Percival Weasley.

(70% of Dumbledore’s dislike comes from the suspicion that Percy might be two or three points more intelligent than him. After almost a century used to being the most intelligent person in the room by far, Dumbledore does not like this new scenario. He misses Grindelwald.)

Dumbledore dies. Then so does Potter (briefly), followed quickly by Voldemort (permanently). Surprisingly, Snape also jumps into this dying fashion until he thinks better about it and survives, although severely wounded. Percy doesn’t die but as soon as the battle had ended and all Death Eaters are either dead or apprehended, he dissaparates right there from the Hogwarts grounds.

He sends a postcard to Draco a month later, which is kind of nice. There is also one for Snape and Draco props it next to the vase of flowers by his sickbed.

Thus begins the After-War.

By day two, Draco understands why Weasley left so quickly. It is a fucking disaster. Potter has to plant himself by Snape’s bed to stop the Ministry from arresting him. The man is barely coherent and barely alive and yet they wanted to interrogate him and transport him to a holding cell. The Ministry. The ones who allowed themselves to be infiltrated.

It is perhaps unsurprising that when the Ministry sends a hastily formed examining tribunal to Hogwarts, so students can sit their OWLs and NEWTs in August, the examining tribunal refuses Draco.

Draco doesn’t particularly care. He is rich enough that he doesn’t need to work and, in any case, once they finally start proper investigations and find Dumbledore’s trove of notes and testimonies in his sealed will, Draco will be exonerated and recognized as the hero he is. This insult or punishment, whatever you call the Tribunal’s unfair treatment of him, doesn’t hurt. Draco is immune to their attacks.

Soon after, he receives a letter from bloody Hermione Granger saying of course he can sit his exams, they expect him on Tuesday at ten. McGonagall will be there to put the fear of herself on the Tribunal and ensure they are fair.

And… he appreciates her intervention, he really does. Awfully nice of her. True moral backbone. It’s just that… Draco actually enjoyed the insult? He realizes now that he only attempted to sit the exams because he expected them to say no.

He sits the exams and aces them. They are particularly hard in the last one, the astronomy test. McGonagall coughs three times, rolls her eyes and finally says “bloody enough, don’t you think? He has shown he knows the material.” He sends her a handwritten thank-you letter just to be annoying.

Draco realizes that his behavior is very odd, but given that Weasley has fucked off to somewhere and that Snape refuses to heal so he won’t have to talk to people, Draco believes he is entitled to some oddities of his own. Thus, he begins collecting insults. From the low-brow and simple “Death-Eater scum” to the vitriolic “murderer”. The best, and the worst, are the ones that don’t come wrapped in words. Shunning and discrimination. Oh! He can’t explain it, but they taste tart and sweet.

He likes it. Not the dismissing, no, but the idea that they don’t know him and that their judgment of him is wrong. If that means they will also wrong him and treat him badly, so be it. It doesn’t change that he and Snape and Percy Weasley, are the heroes of the war.

He applies to a mediwizard program and is naturally denied. Then he tries a traineeship at the Wizengamot, also denied. Just for the fun of it, he applies to the Auror Office and receives a wonderful letter of rejection that has an actual dead spider inside the envelope.

It has been three months since the end of the war, now, and Weasley refuses to let himself be found. Snape barely manages to stay awake for three hours, and only with Draco. Evidently the stress of the war did a number on them, so it’s perfectly understandable if Draco keeps prodding and asking and applying to things knowing full well that he will get a resounding “no”.

You would think this was some sort of atonement for his past misbehavior and his admittedly awfully narrow views and even more abysmal manners regarding muggleborns. But Draco is quite sure he atoned for all of that when he lied to Voldemort’s face and, more terrifyingly, he lied to Aunt Bella’s face, stole their secrets and passed them to Dumbledore. He doesn’t need to punish himself any more.

No, it’s just… it’s just hard. He has spent three years with a carefully crafted lie as his only protection. It is not so easy to discard it. He liked that lie. It kept him alive.

And then, come October, the Ministry takes Malfoy Manor and all associated assets. Just like that. Puff. Seized. They haven’t even begun an official investigation on Draco, but they have taken his house as a precaution.

Now it’s personal.

It turns out that Draco is a vindictive asshole, who would have guessed? Probably everyone but him. Doesn’t matter. He will make them pay. The Ministry, the papers who ran the headline about Draco becoming homeless and the people who cut the page and framed it. They will regret it.

He moves into Snape’s ugly cottage because he has no other place to go and if Snape has any objections, he can say so when he pleases. Oh? He can’t talk? Too bad, then.

The Ministry has also seized his funds and Draco draws a line at using Snape’s meager savings (he assumes they are meager, he hasn’t actually checked) so he gets a job in the only place that would employ him: a seedy tea shop in the North side of Diagon Alley. The only reason the owner hired him was because the previous assistant tried to burn the place down and he was in a bit if a rush to find a replacement. After a week, Draco understands why someone would want to burn the place down, and that’s before his boss realizes that Draco is drawing a small crowd of people who like seeing him serving tables. From then on, he takes to screaming and insulting Draco for absolutely everything before turning to his customers with a smug smile.

Every time he or any of the customers complains, Draco smiles a cheap version of the smiles he used to give Voldemort and vows. Sometimes their words sting and sometimes they break against his armor. He lives in a weird state between immunity and pain.

Dumbledore’s actual true will, to be open by Hermione J. Granger (funny how he didn’t address it to Potter) is found in late December. Given the state of the Ministry, Draco expects that they will only get around summoning Granger by early February at best.

Weasley sends another postcard around Christmas. This one comes with an address, in case either he or Snape also want to drop everything and fuck off, he supposes. Draco writes back explaining he is bidding his time to exact just retribution over all those who wronged him and Snape is in no condition to travel. Weasley writes, well, he doesn’t write, he sends a third postcard with quite a nice drawing of a thumbs up.

Snape can now sit up and read the paper. He still can’t get a single sound out, but he can manage sighing in a very meaningful way. They receive another summon to have Snape declare before a Tribunal and he groans before passing out and staying unconscious the next two days.

All things considered, Draco is evidently the one coping better so he feels he can afford a little extravagant behavior like sitting in front of a mirror and practicing his own sighs of heroic suffering for when the vindication comes.

It comes in March.

The world goes absolutely insane. People knew that Snape had done… something, mostly because Potter had very obnoxiously advocated on his behalf.

(Potter is so obnoxious. He comes every Tuesday to Draco’s tea shop and asks for a cup of tea that he barely touches and stays there for an hour saying nothing).

But they had no idea of the extent Snape’s involvement. None. All the curses he surreptitiously knocked aside, all the misfired spells. It wasn’t just gaining Voldemort’s trust and acting on Dumbledore’s plans, he, Snape, personally saved two dozen lives with none the wiser. He was so good at acting covertly!

That should be enough to make any good newspaper editor foam in their mouth, but there is more. There is Weasley, going twenty steps ahead and being ridiculously clever and talented and just… knowing what to do. There is already a shrine to him in Coleraine because he did something very important there and the locals were merely waiting to find a name to put to it. Percy Weasley has been declared tax exempt in all of Ireland.

Draco merely has a meager thirteen lives saved on his ledger, but he also has three years of cleverly betraying Voldemort. It doesn’t look like much, but once details emerge of how he stole information and passed it to Dumbledore, the whole thing becomes charming. Double-o-Drac-o, is what the muggleborns are calling him. Snape assures him it’s a good thing, but he doesn’t elaborate because he is a bastard who pretends that writing tires him horribly.

Snape wasn’t planning on surviving the war and for the first time in years he is unprepared. He deals with it by trying to shut the world off. If he wasn’t so weak from his wounds, Draco is quite certain that he would have buggered off to wherever Weasley is now, to sit on the sun and be silent together. He certainly does not appreciate the wizarding world’s earnest interest in him. You would think that the fact that he can’t (or, at this point, won’t) speak would deter them a bit, but it only adds to Snape’s tragic charm. Some women and many young men are particularly attracted by it. Fortunately, Draco has only had to chase two of them out of the house because even though Snape can’t say a word, he remains very skilled at non-verbal magic so he hexes every journalist and deranged fan that has the misfortune of coming close to him. Meanwhile, Weasley doesn’t want to be found (“nooooo” says his last postcard, Draco is a bit worried at the lack of capitalization) and has a ten-month head start. He won’t be found.

This means there is only Draco. Shameful bronze medal in the saving-lives business, but with a delicious aura of cleverness and bravery, a whole year of suffering in silence during the post-war, and a face that was made to be dramatically lighted, photographed and printed in the front page.

Wil you answer our questions, Mister Malfoy? Oh, but he will, he will answer every one of their questions and give all details. No one has given so much, sacrificed so much, suffered so much as him.

“I literally died, Malfoy.”

“And I couldn’t afford dying, Potter. I had to survive. Now, get out, these people have some more questions.”

Potter has moved from coming every Tuesday to the stupid tea shop to visiting them at Snape’s cottage. Draco only lets him in because he might annoy Snape into talking. Plus, he is nimble, he can avoid all of Snape’s hexes and the extra exercise will do Snape good.

His relationship with Potter is… strange, but fittingly so. Everything else has been weird lately, why not this? Potter had always elicited interest, but once people learn that Dumbledore had more or less raised him for the slaughter and that when Potter found out he nevertheless went ahead and died, the press and the public in general goes even more rabid. You would think that with so many shocking stories the scandals would dull each other. But, far from that, the public is on fire, incensed, and each piece of news is kindling for the flames.

Potter, unfortunately, does not have a photogenic face (he tends to look like a sad lost deer in all pictures) and all the attention stresses him out. Draco offers him a mutually beneficial deal: Draco will take care of the press for him and Potter will stop the Ministry from returning the manor and his fortune.

“How is that beneficial?”

“I want to tell the press that they took it from me with no evidence before they have the chance to hand it back.”

“Ah, fair enough.” Potter says. He does not seem to be a big fan of the Ministry, which is a pity because this time the Minister is not attempting to kill him, use him, or run a smear campaign against him, unlike the previous ones. It seems that the odd behavior isn’t restricted to Weasley, Snape and him. The other Weasley (Ronald), Granger and Potter are also displaying oddities. Mostly, there is a lot of yelling at the Ministry (Granger) and at every single adult who ever interacted with Potter (Weasley, Ron). Potter isn’t doing any yelling, but he has taken to following Draco around and chatting at Snape.

(No, not “to” or “with”, “at”. He chats at Snape and Snape suffers in silence having accepted that Potter will deflect every hex thrown his way).

Draco doesn’t judge. He is still working at the horrible tea shop with the even more horrible and petty owner (who has no idea how to treat Draco now and spends every waking second alternating between insults and clumsy flattery) simply because he wants to lord over the Ministry that they took his house and money. If Potter feels like he has to follow Draco and harass Snape into making a full recovery, so be it.

There is, of course, the question of Weasley (Ronald) wanting to know where the only tolerable Weasley (Percy) is. Draco doesn’t tell, despite having his address on postcard number 2. That would be a betrayal bigger than anything he did to Voldemort. He could never do that to a person who managed to annoy Dumbledore so much.

What he does is sit down with two cups of tea and explain to Weasley (Ronald) what his brother did and what he went through and why he might not want to interact with any one he knows when, instead, he could be lying face down on a nudist beach in Spain. It helps. Weasley (Ronald) doesn’t track his brother down, but he manages to get him to reply to his letters. He is overjoyed.

The news about having lost his ancestral home and fortune come out and people are adequately irate. He enjoys it, but not as much as he expected. Some people squirm and blush and walk into doors with the embarrassment of how badly they judged him. Some even apologize to his face which is frankly disrespectful because then Draco has to be civil to them. Overall it is unsatisfying. He wants more, but he doesn’t know what he wants.

He almost accepts one of the multiple offers he keeps receiving to enter this or that prestigious program. He would make a good a lawyer. Fortunately, Weasley (the cool one) talks him out of it via postcard. The postcard has nothing written on it other than a smiley face (evidently the brother talks are going well) but it shakes something inside him.

This gives him the idea of apologizing to Longbottom (extremely uncomfortable for both of them) and Granger, who gets him in a number or boards and committees as punishment. Draco competes to be the most disliked person in each committee, which is hard because Granger is in some of them. She asks for immediate liberation of house-elves and a transition program for them and Draco finds himself demanding (just like he did with Dumbledore, full of bile and entitlement) historic reparations. Each blood-line who ever held a house-elf will contribute proportionally to the transition program. He gets death threats over it, it’s great.

Two years after the end of the war, Draco finds himself back in his manor, with most of his money (he doubled his contribution to the elf fund because then the families who want to wash their names would have to do the same) and, mysteriously, Harry Potter in his bed. He has no idea how that happened. He is quite certain he was too busy being a little shit to seduce anyone. Was he seduced when he wasn’t looking? How dare he?

He also has half a dozen very important postcards on his mantelpiece. The only thing he doesn’t have is an ex-Death Eater, ex-potion professor, living in his mansion because the old bastard finally got well enough to say “bugger off, both of you” and then fled to Ireland where the nice Weasley has got a nice little cottage of his own.

#asks #draco malfoy #verse: draco spy #Anonymous

22 notes · View notes

james-pottr · 4 years

Text

{ 𝔦 𝔴 𝔞 𝔰 𝔯 𝔞 𝔦 𝔰 𝔢 𝔡 𝔲 𝔭 𝔟 𝔢 𝔩 𝔦 𝔢 𝔳 𝔦 𝔫 𝔤 𝔦 𝔴 𝔞 𝔰 𝔰 𝔬 𝔪 𝔢 𝔥 𝔬 𝔴 𝔲 𝔫 𝔦 𝔮 𝔲 𝔢 }

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

i solemnly swear that i am up to no good j k rowling, harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban if people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. the world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. but those that will not break it kills. it kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. if you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry. ernest hemingway, a farewell to arms being brave doesn't mean you aren't scared. being brave means you are scared, really scared, badly scared, and you do the right thing anyway. neil gaiman, coraline witty, self-deprecating, sometimes uproariously funny and sometimes unbearably sad new statesman i wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your stubbornness susan ee, angelfall

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: james fleamont euphemon potter NICKNAMES: prongs, jamie AGE: 19 BIRTHDAY: march 27, 1960 GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUALITY: disaster bisexual, somewhat demiromantic

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: euphemia potter, nee valez ( deceased, aged 73 ) FATHER: fleamont potter ( deceased, aged 80 ) SIBLINGS: none biological, several unofficially adopted

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: alberto rosende BUILD: tall, defined, built like a brick shithouse HAIR: naturally disheveled and messy, often flopped over his forehead and particularly mused at the back. despite hi HAIR COLOR: jet-black EYE COLOR: hazel SKIN COLOR: tan DOMINANT HAND: right ANOMALIES: a scar on his left hip, another on his right knee and one across his left cheek from snape’s curse beside the lake. james’ hands are calloused from years of quidditch and he has a smattering of other small scars and marks from full moons and particularly violent quidditch matches. SCENT: broom polish, clean soap and something almost oaky (ya boy smells like a forest) ACCENT: british ALLERGIES: all forms of seafood DISORDERS: james has shown symptoms of mild depression following the deaths of his parents and regulus black. the revelation regarding lily’s pregnancy as well as the curse has also led to some anxiety, although james is unsure if this is natural stress or something more FASHION: whilst james still owns quite a few pairs of robes, his everyday clothing is an eclectic mix of both wizarding and muggle, quite often stolen from his friends. james likes to say that he and lily don’t have seperate sock drawer because he just steals hers on a regular basis. NERVOUS TICS: tapping his foot or drumming his fingers on things. if he has it on him, james will often play with the snitch he stole from hogwarts when he was fifteen, letting it fly away and catching it. a true indication of james’ uncertainty and nerves is just how deep into his own hair his hand is. chances are, the messier james’ hair is, the more stressed he is. QUIRKS: constantly playing with his own hair or adjusting his glasses. james is a very physical person, so if he’s speaking to someone, particularly someone he is close to, he will often lean heavily on them, or fling his arm around them.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: godric’s hollow, west country, england. here he lives in a cottage purchased as a wedding present for himself and lily BORN: st mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries RAISED: potter estate, located outside of godric’s hollow in the west country, england CAREER: auror-in-training EXPERIENCE: while the auror program has offered james considerably training and experience in both offensive and defensive magic, his role within the order of the phoenix continues to hone those skills EMPLOYER: the ministry of magic

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: aligned with the order of the phoenix BELIEFS: strongly anti-dark magic, pro-muggle and muggleborn MISDEMEANORS: a multitude of detentions whilst attending hogwarts, many of which were for jinxing or pranking other students FELONIES: one motorbike chase with two muggle policeman, is an illegal stag animagus DRUGS: none SMOKES: only when he is particularly stressed. upon finding out that lily was pregnant, despite it remaining between the two, james has banned cigarettes in their house. ALCOHOL: occasionally. james is a very overzealous and affectionate drunk, however since the deaths of his parents, he has been far more mournful and therefore tries to avoid drinking as of late DIET: while he lacks the full skillset of his mother, james often tries to emulate the traditional colombian and cuban meals that he grew up on. otherwise, he is fairly unpicky and will eat most foods.

LANGUAGES: english & spanish

PHOBIAS: being truly alone HOBBIES: playing quidditch, collecting chocolate frog cards, drawing TRAITS: { + }: stubborn affectionate loyal self-sacrificial dedicated { - }: stubborn arrogant boastful self-sacrificial rebellious

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖚 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: anywhere that his friends are, hogwarts SPORTS TEAM: puddlemere united GAME: quidditch MUSIC: most things playing on the wireless, james just likes the background noise MOVIES: james is admittedly, fascinated by muggle films and television, so he does not have a favourite as he just likes watching them in general. FOOD: his mother’s pastelitos and empanadas, moros y cristianos BEVERAGE: butterbeer, firewhiskey if he really needs it COLOR: dark red, burgundy

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: gryffindor WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 11", pliable, mahogany, unicorn hair AMORTENTIA: pastelitos, lavender and vanilla, old books and something musky PATRONUS: a stag BOGGART: the corpses of his family and friends, dead at his own hand

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good MBTI: esfp ( extraverted, observant, feeling and perceiving ) MBTI ROLE: the performer ( vivacious entertainers who charm and engage those around them. they are spontaneous, energetic, and fun-loving, and take pleasure in the things around them: food, clothes, nature, animals, and especially other people and their wellbeing ) ENNEAGRAM: type 8 ENNEAGRAM ROLE: the challenger ( the powerful, dominating type: self-confident, decisive, willful, and confrontational. they use their strength to improve others' lives, becoming heroic, magnanimous, and inspiring ) TEMPERAMENT: sanguine ( fundamentally spontaneous and pleasure-seeking; sanguine people are sociable and charismatic. they tend to enjoy social gatherings, making new friends and tend to be boisterous. they are very much people persons; talkative and not shy. sanguines generally have an almost shameless nature, certain that what they are doing is right. they have no lack of confidence. ) WESTERN ZODIAC: aries ( hopeful, active, energetic, honest, versatile, brave, adventurous, passionate, generous, cheerful, argumentative, curious, impulsive, naive, self-willed, belligerent, impatient ) CHINESE ZODIAC: rat ( wise, unique, intelligent, crafty, determined, inventive, intense, acquisitiveness, ruthlessness, and nervousness ) PRIMAL SIGN: piranha ( fearless, aggressive, and get what they want every time TAROT CARD: the sun, the wheel of fortune & the magician ( there an air of earned and learned success with the wheel of fortune and magician cards, and an added dimension of peace, contentment and inner harmony ) TV TROPES: team mom ( there needs to be someone to hold this ragtag bunch of misfits together before they kill each other or wander off into the woods ) feeling oppressed by their existence ( because there is a certain kind of people that he doesn't like, and they... exist ) screw the rules, i'm doing what's right! ( helping someone out when the rules say that you shouldn't ) jerk with a heart of gold ( a person you would expect to be a big jerkass has some redeeming qualities behind their tough demeanor ) SONGS: run away - ben platt nine - sleeping at last lily and james - imogen heap young and in love - ingrid michaelson 5805 - the classic crime

𝖎 𝖉 𝖊 𝖔 𝖑 𝖔 𝖌 𝖎 𝖊 𝖘

abhors the dark arts and believes that anyone who partakes in them should be stopped

refuses to wear shoes indoors

disgusted with any form of prejudice against someone for their blood-status or other things they are unable to change about themselves

his privilege should be used to help others: he is rich and from a fairly respectable pureblooded family and he should use that to help those who are not

when it battle, it is his duty to protect those around him, even if that means sacrificing himself

stopping harm from coming to others is the most important thing

#dulcetask #i didnt spend all day doing this whut #𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔧𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 { 𝔟 𝔦 𝔬 𝔤 𝔯 𝔞 𝔭 𝔥 𝔶 }

4 notes · View notes

cchellacat · 5 years

Text

Working On It

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

Day 5 ~ Kissing

Exactly no one in the Tower was surprised at how well Darcy and Bucky Barnes bonded once he and Steve moved back to New York.

Darcy’s bubbly personality coupled with her insatiable drive to fix people had her stalking the former Winter Soldier within hours of him stepping foot in the Tower. She was dogged in her determination to welcome him.

Under her constant assault of charm, light flirting and encouragement to join the larger group for dinner and movie nights, Bucky slowly came out of his shell.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time she kissed him was in the heat of the moment. She’d been running form Sam after he discovered she’d replaced all his coffee with de-caff. She’d burst into the gym, breathless and giggling wildly when she came across her new friend.

“Hide me, quick, or Sam is gonna string me up.”

Bucky had flicked his eyes towards the vault box and lifted the top, revealing the cavity within.

Darcy wasted no time in running over and trying to climb in, but being short had its disadvantages. Before she could complain Bucky had lifted her up, princess style before lowering her in with a wink and replacing the top.

A few minutes later Sam had come huffing into the gym.

“Barnes, you seen Lewis?”

“Not since yesterday, why? You need her for something?”

“Yeah, something.” Sam muttered angrily before leaving.

Darcy held back the cackle that was threatening to burst. The top lifted and Darcy spring up like a jack-in-the-box, flinging her arms around his neck in a victory hug.

“My hero!”

He pulled her out and placed her down again but before he let go of her she placed a smacking kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, big guy, gotta go… don’t forget, Saturday at 7, dinner and a movie.”

She was gone before he could do more than lift a hand to where she had pressed her lips.

Bucky stares in consternation at the door, wondering what the hell just happened.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve’s not stupid, he’s seen the change in his friend ever since Miss Darcy Lewis had steamrollered into their lives. The girl is hell on wheels and doesn’t seem to take no for an answer.

There had been the Welcome Back cupcakes with silver frosting and red star sprinkles, Steve had nearly choked when she’d thrust the plate into Bucky’s hands, fully expecting him to react badly, but instead he had frowned at the girls hand, a tiny crinkle appearing in the corner of his eyes as he took in the silver pained nails, her middle finger’s adorned with a bright red star on each. Steve wasn’t sure what it was that Bucky found funny about it, but he had.

Then there had been the Harry Potter movie marathon she’d insisted they sit through. She’d provided pop corn and chips and beer and had proceeded to talk the whole way through, her feet propped up in Bucky’s lap like they belonged there as she explained everything she felt was culturally relevant. She ignored Steve’s attempts to indicate that she was invading Bucky’s space and, when about an hour into the first movie Bucky had grabbed her ankles to keep her still he’d thought the worst. Instead Bucky had just pulled her closer until her calves were over his lap and he’d slung an arm round her to support her back. Darcy had just snuggled right in and continued her ramble while Steve gaped from the armchair.

It had taken a few months for it to sink in with Steve that Darcy treated Bucky the same was she did everyone, with irreverent respect, tongue in cheek humour and tactile affection. She was a hugger, she cooked for people, she always had a way of cheering everyone up, even on the worst days. Other than Pepper, Darcy was the only one allowed into Tony’s lab without a security override. Bruce positively beamed as she chattered to him over breakfast tea and even Natasha let the girl drag her off shopping or to the spa. He’d thought at first that the art supplies that kept showing up in his apartment were from Tony or Natasha, but no, Darcy Lewis had somehow figured out his favourite brands and needs and provided them without expectation of thanks.

Bucky seemed to get the full experience though, she brought him shopping and encouraged him to buy things that made him feel good. She brought a pile of books after Bucky had casually mentioned his love for science fiction. And every Saturday night she made him dinner and played the big band music Bucky had loved back in the 40’s.

That’s what he walks in on, the music’s blaring loud enough that neither of them hears him come in and he stands still and watches the couple before him. It’s like he’s suddenly back in those crowded dance halls in Brooklyn. It’s like seeing a ghost he’s thought long dead. Bucky is grinning at her as she laughs, spinning out on the floor and letting him swing her through the air with shrieks of delight.

He doesn’t stay, but backs out of the room slowly, feeling as though he’s seem something he shouldn’t have. Before he can close the door, the music stops and the two clutch each other breathlessly, Darcy leaning into him, Bucky’s hands on her waist. He watched as his friend presses his lips into her hair-line bestowing a kiss, and thanks her for the dance. The radiant smile she returns to Bucky hits Steve like lightening.

As Steve walks away he ponders exactly what it is he’s feeling, but honestly it’s a jumble of emotions that all lead back to one fact. Where Steve had failed to find his old friend inside the damaged shell of the winter soldier, Darcy Lewis had succeeded. She’d brought him back, slowly but surely. Instead of the jealousy and resentment he knows is itching in the back of his brain he focuses on the gratitude instead. He can see where it’s headed, this thing between them and he resolves then that he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure they get their chance at happiness. Bucky deserves nothing less from his friend. Steve will protect Darcy Lewis till the day he dies because he knows, if something happens to her, Bucky will retreat and allow the soldier back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time he does more than press a kiss into her hair, it’s not because anything monumental happens. It’s a day like any other, Darcy has handed out packets to all the Avengers with the briefings for the press conference later that day and she is rushing around the common kitchen making sure everyone has had breakfast as she tops up her coffee and fixes one for Bucky since he’s only just come in. When she brings him the coffee and places it on the table in front of him he turns his head and gives her cheek a quick peck in silent thanks, she squeezes his shoulder briefly before leaving, calling out to remind everyone they’re due in the lobby at four.

Darcy keeps her smile fixed firmly in place until she reaches the elevator and the door close and then she allows herself a moment to freak out a little. He’d just kissed her, right in front of everyone and yeah, okay, he’s been pressing tiny kisses into her hair for a month now when they danced or snuggled on the couch and she hadn’t taken it as anything other than brotherly, but that…. That was… well it was something else entirely. It had felt like a sleepy morning hello, the sort of kiss you gave your other half after months of living together, like a part of your daily routine that needed no explanation, but they were just friends, right? Except friends didn’t have lunch every day and spend evenings watching Netflix together while cuddling on the couch…. Christ on a cracker, has she been dating him and never even noticed? Did he think they were dating? Were they?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christmas was only a week away and the Tower was hung with holly and mistletoe, trees were festooned with ribbons and tinsel and Darcy was about ready to cry with the preparations for the Christmas Eve ball. All she wanted was to go home and sleep for a week. Instead she was stuck counting chairs, ordering the place cards for the dinner and finding a seating arrangement that wouldn’t lead to a political nightmare.

She was just about to leave the common room and head to her apartment when a voice stopped her.

“Darcy, I’ve been looking for you, Doll.”

“Hey Bucky, what’s up?”

She was standing in the hall just outside the kitchen when he caught up with her.

Before he said a word, he looked above her and raised an eye brow. She tilted her head and smirked. There was a bunch of mistletoe hanging right over where she stood.

They both unconsciously moved a little closer.

Unbidden, her thoughts all went right there. He was so close she could smell him, the intoxicating scent sandalwood and gun oil making her dizzy. Although they spent a frequent amount of time together and he had kissed her cheek a few weeks ago, she still hadn’t managed to figure out a way to make a move on him. Now, overhead was the perfect way to settle the question once and for all.

“Huh, I guess I’m just gonna be stuck here till someone kisses me.” Her teeth catch her lower lip and she looks up at him with big blue eyes, willing the universe to please, just please listen to her just this once.

Bucky thinks if he doesn’t make a move now, they’ll still be where they are this time next year.

“Could be a while, everyone’s out right now.” He drawls mischievously.

“Yes, they are.” The smile on her face widens as he draws closer. He’s got this look in his eyes, like he thinks she might back out, but that is so far from the truth as to be laughable.

Darcy hooks her fingers through his belt loops and tugs him even closer, till there’s hardly a space between them at all. He mirrors her earlier expression, that bottom lip of his held down by his teeth like he’s stopping himself form saying something particularly filthy and a thrill runs up her spine

Slender fingers walk a path up his chest, and he catches her waist in one hand, their bodies now pressed together hip to chest and Darcy feels the hitch in her breath at the warmth of him. His other hand runs through her hair, tugging the locks back from her face before his thumb traces a line down her neck.

There’s a moment in that silence between them, before they kiss that feels like the universe paused for just a second and it makes her head swim.

Pressing up on her toes, her belly fills with butterflies. His eyes darken and the hand on her moves smoothly around till it’s splayed against her back, keeping her steady.

At first, it’s just a light brush of lips, both of them figuring out how this will work. It grows stronger and deepens, heat rushes through her blood as she hooks her arms round his neck and sinks her fingers into his hair.

The little moan he makes draws a smile to her lips and he traces the seam of her mouth with his tongue, begging entrance. Now it’s her that moans, as he teases into her mouth, all hot and wet and tasting like coffee and cherries. Nothing could have prepared her for the sudden zing of fire rushing through her core, the insistent need that ached for far more than a simple kiss. He felt it too she knew, if the way he intensified the assault on her mouth was anything to go by. Then she was drowning in him, sparks dancing over her skin where he touched her, his hands seeming to be everywhere at once. For those blessed minutes the only thing that existed for her was him, the firmness of his chest, the soft sweetness of his lips and the strength of his arms holding her up. Lightheaded they finally broke away from each other, surety and excitement in every short breath.

“Do I need to hang mistletoe everywhere to get you to kiss me like that again?” She asks him with a grin.

The soft smile he gave her turned to full blown laughter and he picks her up, spinning her around as she yelps in surprise.

“Don’t need nothing except you, Doll.”

@captain-rogers-beard

#love all the marvel ships #love all the marvel ships challenge #darcy/bucky #wintershock #kissing

53 notes · View notes

departmentofroleplays · 5 years

Note

4, 9, 42? 💛💛💛

Hi, you lovely human being you!! 💗💗 Not really sure from which list you’re asking from, so I’ll answer from both!

{ EDIT: I saw your second ask, and it was from both lists xD }

4. Would you ever smile at a stranger?

Yes! To be honest, I honestly love smiling at strangers?? Especially the ones who look like they’re having the worst day ever and so I’ll try to catch their eye and give ‘em a smile as I’m traveling by; and it’s the best feeling when they smile back. If they’re smiling at me first and I smile back, they usually do a little wave and I’m a dork myself so ofc, I’m gonna wave back at the stranger from aisle 4 I just met .5 seconds ago. { The only time I don’t smile at strangers is when I have a really bad gut feeling about them, or if they seem extremely pissed or intimidating; or if I’m having a really bad mental health day. That is like the only time I won’t smile back. I’ve always been a smiley kid since I was little 😊 That’s the main thing I’ve had people from my childhood remember about me, that I smile a lot }

9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more?

By how my mom dressed me a lot when I was in elementary school and early middle school, which was pretty restricted since I was one of the tallest girls in my grade and since there were certain dress codes we had to follow, to be on the safe side, I often wore jeans more than I did dresses/skirts like other girls my age. So, I’m oddly more comfortable wearing jeans than anything?? Even more than sweats, skirts, or dresses; even now that I can openly wear those?? Not joking, I wear jeans more often to bed than I do sweats or pajama bottoms. 😂😂

42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago?

To a degree, yes.

I’m still stuck at the same shitty school that brought forth the downfall of my mental health, the same school that caused me to have, literally, crippling depression severe anxiety, a lack of self-confidence, and the same school that got it planted in my head that since I was a bright student, I’d had to overachieve everything they challenged me with o I wouldn’t go far in life.

I still doubt myself and my abilities a lot. I still haven’t /properly/ came out to my family as a genderfluid, panromantic asexual. I still suffer from anxiety pretty badly. I still overthink,, just about everything. I still compare my chapter 1 to someone who is on their 85th chapter. I still cry whenever I get overwhelmed with stress. I still get scared to properly let people into my life, in fear that they’ll leave a short time later. I still haven’t gotten back up to a properly/necessarily ‘healthy’ weight. I’m still afraid of the dark. I still think on the past a lot, and what I did wrong. I still have pretty bad anger issues. I still have moments where I wanna give up...where I wanna run away and start ane and just never look back.

I still freak out over any mention of Harry Potter. I still get flustered at the sight of really attractive people, haha. I still love stargazing, I still love that one adorable Christmas commercial from Hershey Kisses that airs on TV during the holidays. I still love watching the sunset, and taking trips out of the city, and watching the scenery outside as the car drives by. I still love the sound of people laughing out of joy, and the sound of babies giggling. I still want to be an artist post-high school graduation, and I still wanna take that year off to travel the world. And lastly, I still have hope that things are gonna get better.

But hey, I’m making new friends now. I’m laughing more, smiling more. I’m still here, which I doubted back a couple of years ago. I didn’t expect to see 2018, but I’m here. I didn’t expect to get such an amazing girlfriend, and yet I did. I didn’t expect to stumble into the world of the hp rp community and join it, to get hit with all this love and support from these people that I can happily call friends, and to be getting all these new opportunities to change my life, both on here and irl, but it all did happen. And honestly, this makes me smile.

I’ve put a lot down on here, but this was all done to say that while I still have a lot of things from my past that still follow me, things that aren’t exactly the best, for the most part, my life has gotten better from 2017. Not the best as I could’ve hoped for, but loads better than it was before. And for once, I actually look forward to the future.

4. What is a thing you are great at?

I think I’m pretty great at making people smile??

That’s something I like to take a bit of pride on. I honestly think I’m pretty good at making people smile; to make their day slightly better. This is something I’ve done since I was really little. I always liked making my aunts, grandparents, parents, friends, and overall, family smile. And whenever I do make an effort to make someone smile, I am stuck on it; even if I have to spend the entire day making that one person smile, I will do and give it my all.

9. Who is your favourite artist?

If you mean artist as in drawing,, then KJSKDSKDLSS, okay, this is gonna be such a hard answer. But,, I’m gonna say @princecanary ?? There’s something so spellbinding about their art, and if I remember clearly, this was one of the very first artists I ever came across and kickstarted my dream to become a digital artist.

If you mean musical artist, then I’m going with Michael Jackon ( I grew up listening to this man’s music so much,, I can’t even begin to go on about how much I love him and his music. )

42. What is the first illegal thing you did or have you done anything?

The first illegal think I’ve ever done was lied to a cop about whether or not I was wearing a seatbelt in a wreck. ( This was a few years ago, and since I’m sixteen at the moment, I obvs wasn’t driving; I was in the back seat. But my grandma, aunt and I were pulling out of a fast food place, and we were looking at where we were at and all that stuff, but a car that was too impatient from the oncoming lane at our left, passed the car in front of it and hit my grandma’s side of the car. We all lived, we weren’t hurt or anything, but I did get flung into the head panel of the seat in front of me. The only reason I lied about it was because 1) I had recently gotten back in the car and had been leaning down to pick up something from the floorboard so I didn’t exactly get the seatbelt on in time 2) I’d never been a situation like this before 3) I was vv small so I was heckin’ intimidated by the police officer ( so much that I lied three times, as he asked me whether or not I was wearing my seatbelt, more than once. )

Thank you for the asks, hon!! 💗💗 ( and istg, we better become best friends after this; i wrote so much and highkey gave you an insight into my backstory, sdksjdkss 😂😂 )

6 notes · View notes

drarryrelated · 7 years

Text

The Origami Swans (Drarry)

In third year Draco sends Harry an origami swan each day (after the first one in potions) and Harry just shoves them in his bag or under his bed and ignores them. At first they contain insults and mean drawings but eventually Draco runs out of these and just starts writing or drawing whatever comes into his head at the time. He asks Harry questions that he assumes he will never read (“can you really speak parceltongue?” “why is your patronus a stag? that’s such a random animal I always thought it would be a lion or something” “why aren’t you allowed to go to hogsmeade?” “did you actually live with muggles?”) He does little doodles, these include a suspicious number of stags. Magical drawings of sparkling green eyes. Loads of sketches of Harry (concentrating in class, laughing at a joke, flying, running his hands through his hair, thoughtfully biting his lip during defense against the dark arts, biting his thumb in concentration etc). He’s finds comfort in the strange one-sided correspondence he has developed with Harry. He even apologises for some of their run-ins, and soon he is simply addressing his thoughts to Harry each day.

Harry doesn’t think too much of it after opening the first one - it’s just Malfoy being Malfoy after all - but as the swans show no signs of going away he becomes curious. He doesn’t open them but he also doesn’t throw them away, he simply puts them under his bed and tries to forget about them. It gets to the point where he expects to receive the origami swan each day, he becomes irritated by the fact that he doesn’t know what Malfoy’s motives are and he wants to open them so badly but he can’t because then Malfoy wins and that can’t happen.

Eventually he decides that if he doesn’t open at least one he’ll go mad, imagine his surprise when he picked a random one from the pile under his bed and opened it to find a funny magic doodle of Neville waving his wand at Boggart Snape and forcing him into a dress (and when he sees himself laughing in the background). He stays up well into the night opening each and every one of them, surprised to find that Malfoy actually has feelings and finding that he isn’t actually evil and he doesn’t /really/ hate him, he just pretends to. He gets to the strange backhanded compliments from when Malfoy was running out of insults and finds them hilarious.

He finds out that Malfoy is terrified of the peacocks in the grounds of Malfoy manor (they’re unexpectedly aggressive, okay?), his friends are like a family to him and aren’t just brainless lackeys, he’s a total mummy’s boy, his father is actually quite nice despite almost definitely being a death eater (just not to Harry), he hates his aunt Bellatrix, he loves flying more than anything, he has a secret book of pressed flowers hidden under his pillow. By the time he gets through them all he feels almost friendly towards him.

He doesn’t confront Malfoy, but he begins to quietly open each swan. Soon he starts to write little replies to each note, stashing them in a box under his bed (charmed to have two compartments, one for Malfoy’s and one for his responses) which expands magically. Somewhere along the way he stops thinking of him as Malfoy, and starts thinking of him as Draco instead, suppressing a smile each time he receives the origami swan.

One time he mistakenly smiles at Draco in the corridor, and Draco is so caught off guard that he smiles back and his slytherin friends are all losing their shit grinning and winking at each other because of course they know about Draco’s little notes (they may have intercepted one or two before they got to Potter, they sent them on of course, but not before they read them themselves) and they absolutely know that Draco has an enormous crush on the boy who lived, even if he won’t admit it himself.

In fourth year Draco is legitimately terrified for Harry (though he refuses to admit why), especially knowing that there are ex death eaters at hogwarts that are possibly endangering him. He puts these things into his notes, saying he wished he could tell him to his face but he probably wouldn’t believe him so what’s the point.

Throughout the third challenge, he’s in such a state of terror that his friends are genuinely worried about him. When he sees that Harry is alive, he’s so fucking relieved that he suddenly realises his feelings towards Harry are more than just friendly. He wanders the castle trying to think things out and decides that the only way to organise his thoughts is to write them down, and so he pours out his feelings and without giving it a thought, deftly folds the paper into an origami swan and takes out his wand. He hesitates, his wand lingering over the swan before impulsively flicking his wand, sending the swan to Harry. He probably wouldn't read it anyway.

Later that evening he is hunted down by a flustered Harry Potter, who stares at him strangely for a long moment before pulling him into a kiss without a word. After a confused ten minutes of mumbled explanations between kisses, each of them has what’s more or less the whole story. Moments later they are spotted by several confused students as they were walking through the grounds holding hands.

#drarry #draco x harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry headcanon #drarry writing #drarry trash #drarry texts #drarry is real #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #slash #crush #slytherin x gryffindor #drarry drabble

365 notes · View notes

waitingformargo · 6 years

Text

~ Facts about Me ~

I’m pretty cute, I have a cute face with a cute nose and do cute things like naming the head made of styrofoam, that I bought to put my hats on, Brian. Or maybe that’s weird, I don’t know.

I have three guinea pigs that I adore and love to cuddle and I love it when they lick my face.

I listen to audio books at night, I barely fall asleep without.

One of my favourite books is called “The whole world in a single sentence” (translated) and contains little tips on writing, like cinquains or also ideas on what you could write about or words you could use, making you observe your surroundings, find adjectives to describe it etc. I don’t think I actually ever used any of the tips but just flicking through it makes me smile and feel warm. If I had to throw away all my books and pick only one that I can keep it’d be this.

I love my guitar that I named Jesse. I love running my hands over it, smelling it and feeling the strings. But I can’t really play it actually. I know the common chords, sure, but that is hardly enough. I barely practise but it isn’t my aim to be good at it anyway. It calms me down to just strum a bit and to badly play a few of my favourite songs while singing to it.

When I think of home I think of sounds more than anything. I think of children playing and shouting and of the sound of a piano in the background. My parents’ flat is next to my former primary school and next to this again is the music school my dad works at. My room used to be directly next to the school yard and I often did my homework listening to the other children play outside and to the students playing their instruments fading into my room. I actually have a certain melody playing in my head when I think of this. It’s a small instrumental part in the song Unstillbare Gier (Confessions of a Vampire or also Endless Appetite) from the musical Tanz der Vampire (Dance of the Vampires). If you want to listen to it it’s 1:06-1:23 in this version (which is my absolute favourite, having Drew Sarich on vocals): Die unstillbare Gier - Drew Sarich als Graf von K…: http://youtu.be/PCqEybPFdpo

I love music in general, mostly British bands, mostly indie rock.

I collect vinyls although I don’t listen to them often. It’s the same with drinking tea: I love it but I need time for it. I like to savour the moment and to do things like these consciously. I don’t have vinyls playing in the background, I sit in front of my record player and watch the vinyl spin while listening closely. I don’t just take sips of my tea every now and then. I warm my hands on the mug, staring into the brown liquid. I don’t do these halfway. I’d never put a record on when I’m not in the room and I’d never drink tea for breakfast when I only have little time before uni.

When I was younger I sewed myself plush toys. I couldn’t sew well and I still can’t and they all look a bit weird but I am proud of them nonetheless. They were pretty weird animals or even objects though- I still have a hand-sewn jellyfish and a plush belly (yeah, I wrote belly) that I gave to my older sister. It even has a belly button.

I collect sand from all the places I’ve been to in little glass bottles and I like to look for special postcards as well.

I love to write. Since I was 10 I knew I wanted to be a writer. I don’t believe that I ever will be now but that doesn’t change a thing. It is still my greatest and probably my only passion. Nothing has ever come this naturally to me. It’s probably my writing talent that prevents me from bringing anything else to perfection because anything else actually requires work that I am not ready to invest as I was good at writing from the start and expect myself to master every new challenge like I did with this. I haven’t written in a while and nothing makes me hate myself more than when I don’t write for a long time. I don’t want to waste my talent and I don’t want to waste my life. I’m sure this is my biggest fear. To waste myself.

Characters and character development is the most important part for me in a story. I don’t care for the plot. Give me a trashy love story between an alien-human hybrid and a cactus that takes place in the 30th century; as long as the characters are complex and interesting it could still become my favourite book.

I love F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I once created a little book with quotes from Fitzgerald novels for one of my favourite musicians because he made a song full of references to his writing. To this day I like to believe that I am the only one who ever got those hints.

I love drinking milk.

I behave like a child when I am around my parents. When I visit them, coming home to my former home, I can forget about the responsibilities of an adult and pretend everything is like it used to be when I was little. I talk differently with them, feeling like an 8-year-old, play games, solve puzzles, watch movies from my childhood, knowing that they’ll always accept me back like I never grew up.

It makes me proud that one of my heroes smiled at me during a concert.

It makes me proud that I once won in a writing competition.

It makes me proud that I didn’t give up school during an impossibly hard phase and am now able to study at university.

It makes me proud to be a good person.

It makes me proud that I can be proud of myself.

Making this list makes me feel like a complex character from a book someone created and characterised like this, with all these little details because they grew very fond of them and it would be sweet and make me feel loved if that was the case.

I can’t keep plants alive.

I have been suffering from depression since I was about 14. I went through two therapies, am still taking antidepressants and I guess I can’t yet go without them but I’m confident that I’ll be alright eventually.

I always dreamed of having a pet chameleon.

When I was little I used to play with marbles on the floor in the corridor. I gave them names and played they were in school.

I like to draw pictures with hidden objects, adding many details to it.

I rather listen to the audio books of Harry Potter than to read the books. I used to listen to them and draw scenes from it.

I did that with different audio books and movies as well and collected all my drawings in a box. I love to get them out from time to time and look through them.

I still have many of my milk teeth as I put them into a tiny box when they fell out or rather when I pulled them out once they were loose.

I like to remember the times when I played and fell onto my knees, having bruises on them. It’s a very child thing having bruises on your knees.

I like the scent of warm tar in summer, of mowed grass and floor polish.

To me lit candles smell like Christmas while freshly blown out candles smell like birthdays.

I’m silent around strangers. Even with my friends I’m often silent during talks and just listen to them. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, it’s just that I often don’t know how to say it. Maybe that’s why I love to write. I can structure my thoughts.

I love being alone. I can easily entertain myself and being around too many people for too long wears me out. I need to get home and change into my pajamas to recharge then.

I like dimmed lights and soft voices. I like blankets and calmness and feeling cozy.

I love losing me in myself. It often happens at night, it happens when everything becomes slow and fuzzy, when the night swallows reality and I drift off into my thoughts. I especially get inspired and emotional when there are many lights.

Once I was at a city festival and there were hot-air balloons, their lights flickering and I stood there, among many people with horrible music playing loudly, but that kind of moved into the background and I began to cry at the beauty of the moment. And I must have looked weird but I was just happy and overwhelmed by the world.

I usually repress my anger and swallow it down until I explode and say horrible, exaggerated and unreasonable stuff towards those I’m angry at.

I’m loyal and would do anything for my friends and family.

I love drinking cocoa while watching children’s shows.

I like suspenders, bow ties and glasses although I don’t need them.

I would love to own various wigs so I can change my style for each day.

I love food. Yet everyone says I’m a picky eater and I guess I am. But I love the stuff that I actually do eat.

I should go outside more often.

I have the brain of a fly. I can’t remember where I put my notes, when I have an appointment or what I ate yesterday. I also don’t remember much from my childhood. Whenever my parents try to describe an event to me that took place when I was ten or 13 or even 17 I can’t recall it happened. They could tell me anything and I’d believe it.

I don’t have a sense of orientation at all. I could probably get lost three streets away from my home.

I’m a daydreamer. I’m often lost in thought and although I hear someone is talking to me I don’t stop dreaming, not even for a second to tell the other person I can’t concentrate on them right in that moment which leads to them being annoyed.

I love language and what you can do with it.

I am super lazy.

I have no willpower and can’t force myself to do anything that needs to be done. If I have a course in the morning I often don’t go because I can’t bring myself to leave my bed.

Concerning work I worry too much about not being good enough while at the same time only doing the bare minimum.

I don’t believe in god or a higher instance. I also don’t believe that there will be anything happening after I die. I believe that this will be the end.

I am agender. I don’t identify as either male nor female and that’s not a phase, it’s who I am: human.

I like making lists as they help me a lot to structure my thoughts.

I think that my neck is too short and my arms too fat and I’m self-conscious about my belly but all in all I think I look alright.

I’m good at remembering faces, names and voices.

I love my sister to death. She is the most important person in my life.

I can watch a movie once and memorise the best quotes from it. Me and my sister often talk through quotes and make quizzes about who said what in which movie. It’s our thing.

I love writing letters. I think it’s an intimate thing and you think more about what you want to say when you write a letter than a quick text message. I wish I had a pen pal again who I can get to know through letters and who I can tell secrets about me. I want the exciting feeling of waiting for a letter, of opening your mail box to find one.

I’m into freckles and dimples and moles.

When I feel ugly I put on cute dresses, heels and makeup and watch a movie looking bomb.

I like using my typewriter. I love the clicking noise, the font, and that I need more time this way. It makes me think more about what I write. It fuels my creativity.

I’m a procrastinator.

If I had the choice to either go back in time or into the future I'd always choose to go back. I don't want to know what will happen to Society and Earth. This knowledge would burden me too much.

#personal

10 notes · View notes

officialromaniantranslatiuni · 7 years

Text

Once upon a time: 10 Romanian tales to know and tell

Before Harry Potter and princess Elsa were capturing the imagination of children and teenagers everywhere, local generations were growing up with the stories written or collected by Ion Creangă and Petre Ispirescu. Their tales are classics of Romanian literature and many of them can also be read in translation. Here is an overview some of the best-known ones, recounting acts of courage and industriousness, formative challenges and impossible aspirations.

Capra cu trei iezi / The Goat and Her Three Kids, by Ion Creangă

This is the story of the mother goat and her three kids and of what happens after she leaves them home by themselves while she is away to provide food for the family. She instructs them to open the door of the house only when hearing her sing a specific song. But the bad wolf overhears the conversation and what follows is no fairy tale.

Fata babei şi fata moşneagului/ The Old Man’s Daughter and the Old Woman’s Daughter, by Ion Creangă

The tale contrasts the lazy and badly-behaved old woman’s daughter with the diligent, patient and well-behaved old man’s daughter, who is driven out of her home by the scheming of her stepmother and stepsister. She travels to find work and is rewarded plentifully for the good deeds she performs during her journey and at her found patron. Not something that will happen to the old woman’s daughter when she attempts a similar voyage.

An English-language translation of the story is available here.

Povestea lui Harap-Alb/ The Story of Harap-Alb, by Ion Creangă

Harap-Alb is the youngest of the king’s three sons and the only one who successfully passes his father’s courage test. He is thus sent to his uncle’s kingdom to marry one of his daughters. The journey there is filled with adventures, testing various of his skills, which he puts to use with the help of friends he made along the way, each with their own impressive powers. The hero even needs to be revived by his soon-to-be bride but all ends well in this case.

Punguţa cu doi bani/ The Little Purse with Two Halfpennies, by Ion Creangă

This story centers on the adventures of a rooster, whose owner wants him to start laying eggs, just as his partner’s hen does. Since it predictably results impossible, the rooster is sent away to make himself useful to his owner. The rooster’s powers prove impressive as it persistently fights to keep a purse with two halfpennies it found and wants to return to his owner, who ends up richer than he ever thought possible.

Ursul păcălit de vulpe/ The Bear Fooled by the Fox, by Ion Creangă

Also set in the animal kingdom, this one pits the fox against the bear. After making an illegitimate capture of fish, the fox draws the attention of the bear, who also wants to sample some of the food. But the fox advises him to go fishing and use a method which will leave the bear without his tail. No luck for the bear when trying to get his revenge either.

Prostia omenească/The Human Foolishness, by Ion Creangă

This story focuses on one’s men search to find anyone more stupid than his family. His search doesn’t take too long as he encounters various examples, from someone trying to capture sunlight in a bucket instead of making a window for his house or someone who attempts to get his cow to climb the ladder to be fed rather than take the fodder down from the barn.

Greuceanu, collected and recounted by Petre Ispirescu

Brave Greuceanu embarks on a search for the sun and the moon, which had been stolen and no man in the kingdom had proved able to find and return. He has to fight many deceiving monsters in his journey but the promise to marry the king’s daughter awaits if he proves successful in his endeavor.

Prâslea cel voinic și merele de aur / Mighty Prâslea and the Golden Apples, collected and recounted by Petre Ispirescu

Prâslea, the youngest son of the emperor, volunteers to guard the garden hosting an apple tree producing golden apples. His proposal to the emperor, initially met with skepticism, comes after his older brother and many others have failed in protecting the garden from thieves. He succeeds in the task and goes on to search for the perpetrator only to find and fight ogres and the envy of his brothers but also encounter his future bride.

An English language translation of the work can be read online here. It starts on page 26.

Sarea-n bucate/ The Salt in Your Food, collected and recounted by Petre Ispirescu

The youngest of the king’s daughter upsets her father when she confesses she loves him ‘like the salt in your food.’ She is sent away from home but manages to find a way to make a living and eventually marries into another royal family, not before proving her father that one can live without sugar and honey but not without salt.

A bilingual (Romanian & English) edition of the book is available here.

Tinerețe fără bătrânețe și viață fără de moarte/ Youth Without Age and Life Without Death, collected and recounted by Petre Ispirescu

This is the story of a king and queen who promise their unborn son, who wouldn’t stop crying, that they would gift him ‘youth without age and life without death’. As he grows up and the promise cannot be fulfilled, he decides to go encounter it himself. And although he does find the place where eternal youth is possible an unexpected event awakens in him the longing to return home, among the mortals.

Some of the tales collected by Petre Ispirescu were gathered in a bilingual (Romanian & English) illustrated children’s book in 2009. A 2010 edition features a selection of Romanian fairy tales selected by Mite Kremnitz, a German writer who co-authored several novels with Queen Elisabeth during the 1800’s, and J. M. Percival. Both books are available here and here.

Some of the best-known Romanian tales can also be found in a Romanian-English-French edition published by Paralela 45 publishing house at the end of last year. The book can be found here.

By Simona Fodor, Associate Editor, [email protected]

#romania #romanian literature #literature #fairy tale #studyblr #langblr #culture

222 notes · View notes