Do you ever think about how hard it’s going to be for Harry and Louis’ kids to make friends? People aren’t going to want to be friends with them for them, they’re going to want to be friends with them because of who their parents are and that’s really sad.
IMPORTANT QUESTION: Should I start reading Mute and Fading? Do they have happy endings? Because I won’t read them if they don’t.
Aww thanks, lovely! I don’t really have a favorite. I don’t know why, I just don’t. If I had to pick it would be http://nialls-baked-potatos.tumblr.com/ because she’s one of my very best friends.
awww thanks love i remember when i had this url
Are you in the depths of our blogs or something
No I found the last page of my likes
I have 1,228 liked posts. I’ve checked, and that’s 123 pages, dating back to when I first started this blog in 2012. I’m going to go down memory lane, and you’re all going to come with me. (I will reblog all of these after I make this post.)
This is going to be fun.
1. The first character I first fell in love with: harry tbh
2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: draco, lol i hated him at first, mainly because i was like 12 when i first watched it
3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t: snape, sorry but i still didnt like him, even after i found out he was actually a good guy
4. The character I love that everyone else hates: idk if there is one, do people hate draco??
5. The character I used to love but don’t any longer: no one tbh
6. The character I would totally smooch: draco, harry, ron, sirius, remus, hermione, luna, older neville, cedric, fred and george, uhm probably more but i cant think of any right now
7. The character I’d want to be like: harry probably, because all that money and fame, and yes i am that shallow lol
8. The character I’d slap: voldemort lmao funny imagery
9. A pairing that I love: draco/harry
10. A pairing that I despise: harry/ginny
Updates! Michelle Goldberg says Obama’s come full circle. Our favorite #FutureBidenGaffes. David Frum says it changes nothing—and everything. A position made possible by a movement. Howard Kurtz on the “political bombshell.” Andrew Sullivan says “Obama lets go of fear.” Reactions. More reactions. Are we headed towards culture war?
Currently untitled randomness
Ada crossed the room and fell face first on the bed. Her shoulders shook, and I could tell she was crying. She hugged her pillow close, and wiped some of her tears away. Her phone buzzed. She checked the caller ID and hit ignore. It buzzed again and again and again.
She yelled a curse word as she threw the phone across her tiny apartment. Throwing herself back on her pillows she sobbed, knowing no one worth caring about was seeing her. Mascara and eyeliner ran down her cheeks, but she made no move to clean it up this time. She let herself cry.
Her brown hair surrounded her face like a halo, and her green eyes still held a remnant of the angelic child that she once had been. Life had made her hard. Her mistakes had made her experienced. And now love had made her heart broken. After a couple deep breaths she seemed to pull herself together. Ada sat up, put her feet on the floor and crossed the room quickly, stopping suddenly in front of the full body mirror hanging crookedly on the back of her door. Still panting, she threw her shirt off and tripped herself while angrily stepping out of her jeans.
She now stood in nothing but her bra and panties. Not that it bothered me. I’d known Ada since the day she was born. I’d been with her every moment, every night, every day. I’d been thrown around, used, and beaten. But it didn’t bother me. I loved her just the same.
Again, I saw a flash of the child she used to be in her eyes. Or rather, the reflection of her eyes. She had her back to me, and I knew she could see me in the mirror. Across the room, perched on the chest at the end of her bed. Her eyes barely glanced at my glassy brown ones, and I missed the days that she would hold me and talk for hours. Just talk. Nothing more. When she was young, it was about toys, and cartoons. Soon, boys joined the mix, and as high school came and I was pushed further away I was forced to listen to her phone conversations with her friends. Occasionally, after a bad day, she would snuggle with me. But the last time she had done that was over two years ago, when she’d moved out of her parents’ house at nineteen and been so scared her first night in her new apartment in the city that she couldn’t sleep. She’d held me close and told me all the dreams she had for her life.
I missed that Ada. I missed her terribly. But children do grow up, and I suppose that that is just something that you must deal with. I do wish, though, that I could tell her that growing up doesn’t mean losing your childhood. But alas, I do not speak.
Still appraising herself in the mirror she grabbed the scissors that, in my musings, I hadn’t noticed her pick up. For a moment, I was scared, until she raised the scissors to her head and a sharp metallic sliding sound rang as she cut off a lock of her silky brown hair. And then another, and another, and another.
Hair floated down around her ankles, dancing in the breeze from the open window, making it appear like snow. Like terrible, melancholy, unnatural snow. As she cut she screamed. Her mascara stained face made her seem like a villain in a superhero comic book. Or the villain of her own life.
Eventually, she dropped the scissors. They met the hardwood floor with a clunk that made me jump a little. A slid sideways on my perch, and then off the edge of the chest, making almost no noise in Ada’s silence as I found the floor. Ada heard me though. She had seen me fall in the mirror. She turned and threw herself across the room at me, throwing her hands around me she held me at arm’s length. I took in her newly shorn hair. I’d liked her long hair, but short hair fit her, in a way I couldn’t explain.
Looking into my face, she took the time to retrieve a tissue and clean the black make up streaks from her face. Holding my arm, she looked in the mirror again. This time though, she pulled me close to her chest. All I felt were her loving arms, and I watched her watch us in the mirror. My glazed brown eyes nothing like her bright green ones, still rimmed with red from crying. Still, I knew more about her than anyone.
Ada turned from the mirror, shuffling across the floor to her bed, tired from her fit. She curled into the fetal position, still holding me tight, leaving me breathless. But it didn’t bother me. At nearly twenty-one, Ada was still my child. I was her guardian angel. I was her protector. I kept the monsters out from underneath the bed. I made sure that thunder and lightning never made her shake with fright. I was there when the night light when out and she would cry out in the darkness for her Mother. I was always there.
Stroking my soft, light brown fur and adjusting the bow tie around my neck, Ada sighed, and I sensed just a bit more of the child I knew and loved. The child I would always be there for. She turned out the light, and kissed the top of my head. Tonight, Ada would sleep well. She would not toss and turn. She would sleep like a baby. And I knew that because…everyone sleeps like a child while holding in their arms their childhood teddy bear. Tonight as she held me, I would do my best to protect her from the monsters in her life just as I had saved her from the ones under her bed all those years ago. My job is never over, as a teddy bear. I love and protect forever.