Jeddy Headcanons (i Need More Of This Ship In My Life I'm)

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

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.

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

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

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?!

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.

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.

Okay but like, The Raven Cycle and like every other YA book out there has given me such unrealistic friendship expectations that I'm bound to be alone forever. I will most likely die by being crushed by my own bookshelf. What a way to go.

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. 

History of Magic Meme: [½] Founders → Helga Hufflepuff

“Sweet Hufflepuff from valley broad“