-,’ Types Of People ,’-

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

all pedophiles should die and theres literally no downside to them all dropping dead

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?!

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"

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.

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.

Academia Book Recomendations

And, like, maybe a few movies too 

 The Secret History By Donna Tartt (Obviously!)

Dead Poets Society (Movie and Book)

If We Were Villians by M.L. Rio (Very similiar to TSH, also a personal favorite)

The History Boys by Alan Bennett (A play)

Vicious by V.E. Schwab (I think more superhero oriented? Ive never read it)

A Separate Peace by John Knowles 

Black Chalk by Christopher J. Yates

The Lessons by Naomi Alderman 

The Rules of Attraction by Bret Easton Ellis

Kill your Darlings (Movie, I hated it)

More Female oriented Academia books 

Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl

The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler 

The Rehearsal by Eleanor Catton 

Sleepwalking by Meg Wolizter 

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (okay, only vaguely academic but still a good book)

The Lake of Dead Languages by Carol Goodman

I heard the movie Mona Lisa Smile is good too

A list of some other academic school books 

Feel free to add on to this post. 

SLYTHERIN! Weasley twin Headcanons

George is heavily afraid of getting disowned

Fred is the only one he trusts

They never get an owl back from their mother who ends in a rather nasty breakdown

Two weeks pass by until an owl lands on their table

There’s a letter and even a package

It’s Slytherin sweaters

When harry comes along, he gets to see how fun Slytherin can be

Fred tells Ron about the underwater glass they have to see into the lake

Draco and Blaise become immersed in trying to name every lake creature they see

George is telling first years that they can come over to the Slytherin dorms if they’re a fan of lake creatures and cold areas

Fred takes drawing requests from the little kids

George helps them with potions

Pansy drags Hermione over and rambles to her about the lake

The twins are always making sure people are ok

There’s always a sleepover in the Slytherin common room at midnight

It’s usually packed with students

George makes everyone hot coco

Fred takes pictures

The twins just generally making Slytherin out to be the greatest house ever

tumblr: that thing you like is Problematic and you should feel bad for liking it

me, an adult capable of critical thinking and criticizing things while still wholeheartedly enjoying them: please get out of my living room

Ut Vidi, Ut Perii

Virgil, Eclogue VIII

“When I saw you, how I perished” 

(via megaerakles)