Ya Know Like….you Always Hear About The Classics™ Authors Having Stupid Wild Shenanigans With Each

Bookstore Girl: Edmund x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k (holy cow look at me)

Warnings: maybe some language, kinda slow burn maybe?

Summary: You work at a bookshop in Brooklyn and a handsome stranger comes in one Sunday afternoon. 

A/N: welcome new friends!! thank you so much for your love on my last edmund oneshot and I rlly hope you like this one! let me know what you think in the comments and such (also if you get some of the little references i hid in there ;))!! <3

Sunday afternoons were your favorite. The tranquil quiet of the street was in stark contrast to Saturdays when tourists would filter into the shop, talking and laughing as they checked out the crowded shelves and warmed up on their way to one attraction or another. 

Keep reading

Vietnamese Mossy Frog (Theloderma corticale), family Rhacophoridae, found in Viet Nam, south-central Laos, and southern China

photograph by Reptiles4all

KARMA IS A BITCH 😭 i was on insta and saw noah schnapp get new glasses and i was hard core judging him because i know for a fact he needed new glasses because he ruined his eyes by watching tiktok everyday until 4 am 10 seconds later my glasses broke lmao and we are in lock down so the stores are all closed jsjsjshsh fun times man

ATTENTION WATTPAD USERS AND NON-WATTPAD USERS!!

teenfic.net IS STEALING BOOKS FROM WATTPAD!!

This is really serious case! Website called teenfic.net is actively pirating every book from wattpad probably including yours.

The worst thing about this is that everyone can just copy your hard work and claimed it us theirs. Go and try yourself. Just ctrl C, ctrl V random fic, book there (which you can't do on wattpad). You can also find yourself, by tipping your nickname (i did that and all my published books are there).

Those books are mine and all of them have copyright policy on!

What they're doing is ILLEGAL!! And you can help to stop it!

Change.org

Sign the Petition

Shut down teenfic​.​net

This is a petition to shut down this website. It's completely free and will help a lot of creators, our whole country here! So don't wait and sing this petition to stop piracy!

Pls inform others and share awarness among other users and outside wattpad if you can!

hi all, palestine’s going through a mass genocide right now and really needs help, here are a few ways you can do that

palestine children’s relief fund: provide urgent humanitarian care for children in gaza

anera: provide on-the-ground emergency relief

medical aid for palestinians: emergency relief for women and children, psychosocial support, disability help, other medical needs

doctors without borders: medical teams on the ground treating injured palestinians as needed

feel free to add on in the notes, notify me if any of the fundraisers listed arent necessary/actually helpful to donate to, and let me know if anything needs added on/modified

as always, if you cant donate then please share and spread awareness

UPDATE: this post has been edited to remove an organization by the UN (details in reblog by @petite-elf )

UPDATE: companies to boycott have been added due to the direct harm they cause towards palestinians (c. @/sleepallsummer, letstalkpalestine on instagram)

Caterpillar: Caterpillar bulldozers are regularly used in the demolition of Palestinian homes and farms and in Israel’s massacres in Gaza

HP: Hewlett Packard helps run the ID system that Israel uses to restrict Palestinian movement

Puma: Puma sponsors the Israel Football Association, which includes teams in Israel’s illegal settlements on occupied Palestinian land.

SodaStream: SodaStream home drinks machines are one of Israel’s best known exports.

Ahava: Ahava cosmetics are another of Israel’s best known export companies.

Sabra: Sabra hummus is a joint venture between PepsiCo and the Strauss Group, an Israeli food company that provides financial support to the Israel Defense Forces.

Motorola: Provides Israeli military, police, prisons and immigration authority with communication technology

For more information, see bdsmovement.net/boycott-hp, investigate.afsc.org, whoprofits.org

I cannot fucking believe how much I'm losing my mind right now over soy sauce history. I'll tell all of you about it after I finish this essay because I need to un-distract myself enough to finish it but what the fuck? What the fuck is going on? I'm losing my fucking mind.

My brain is spiraling from this @miraniel @roachpatrol

Once is Always

The first day back in England, every one of the Pevensie children managed an extravagant fall. 

Their legs are shorter than they should be, but they can’t say this out loud. 

Weeks go by. Eventually, they all relearn how to walk. 

But there are other, stranger things they can’t relearn. 

Like how:

Lucy is eight. 

Lucy is twenty-three. 

She can’t remember how to be small and unimportant, or how to play children’s games. Fifteen years in another world have left her used to being listened to, relied upon. The horrors of war are far less frightening than the horror of ignorance, of tiny uncalloused hands. Or waking in the night remembering the culture, the world she left behind.

Like how:

And Susan is twelve - nearly - thirty.

With small children of her own under her care. She can’t forget the feel of them growing inside her. 

She can’t unlearn the way her ears are always listening for them. Years later she is still celebrating birthdays for people who live only in her memory, only knee high. At night she’d kept awake wondering about the strangers she gave birth too. 

So she keeps trying to forget.

For the boys it is different. But not better:

Peter is thirteen and full of anger. The adults call it puberty. The adults don’t realize the shadow in his eyes is the same shadow in the eyes of returning soldiers. High King Peter, with so many lives under his command now commands nothing, and knows nothing. Responsibility and questions weigh on him. 

But Edmund wakes up one day and realizes that after so many years no stranger can ever go to war with him about a child betraying his family for roses and sugar. His worst mistake weighs only on his mind now. And somehow, it’s this small silver lining that lets him pull their family back from the brink. He is no longer the broken one, no longer haunted by a child he no longer is.

Even so.

The Pevensie’s are adrift in a world of smoke and debris, and the rolling empty countryside. The war here is not fought with swords and fangs, but gas, and fire from above.

A fate worse than death is not being turned to stone. 

There is no Lion coming at the eleventh hour to save them all. No lion except the one they carry inside themselves. 

And that would have to be enough. 

So each Pevensie found a way to matter, to change, to save. 

And a little bit of Aslan crept in around the corners when they needed him most. 

There was a snap and a growl to Lucy her mother had never seen. 

A spine of unyielding stone in Susan. 

A soft listening silence in Edmund. 

And in Peter a flash of fang, and reckless hope. 

The Pevensies are not in Narnia. 

So they took part of it with them. 

Let’s talk about a cat who spent a whole day waiting on a wall, while everyone else was celebrating, because she had heard something and she couldn’t believe it. Because people were laughing for the first time in years, and all she wanted to do was cry.

Let’s talk about a teacher who was strict and severe, but fair and caring. A woman who fought for her students until the very end, with her green robes and stern look, three silver cats flying out of her wand. And they fought for her too.

Let’s talk about Minerva McGonagall.

When Minerva McGonagall saw Harry for the first time, she didn’t see his mother living in his green eyes, like Severus would. She didn’t see James’ ghost in his shy smile, like Sirius; or a hero to be shaped by manipulative hands, like Albus. She didn’t even see an orphan, like the rest of the world did. She didn’t see the boy who lived. She just saw a boy, her student, and for her, that was enough.

Minerva McGonagall survived a war and all that came after. The funerals and the sorrow, but also the laughter that was back. She survived the ghosts and the mourning. She let her heart break over Lily’s death, her hands shaking because James would never make another joke; a sharp, disappointed pain over Sirius’ betrayal (they had been her students. They had been her children) and then she collected the pieces and moved on. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Albus said once. And she didn’t dwell on dreams. She was stone and she would not shatter.

She survived a war, and, when she had already buried the dead and forgotten the nightmares, another one came. And she survived it too. She was a rock, and rocks may be weathered, but they don’t break.

When Fred and George Weasley abandoned the school, leaving behind a trail of cheers, admirers and laughter, and a petition (give her hell for us, Peeves), Minerva saw Umbridge’s fury and Peeves’ bow, and hid a smile in the corner of her lips. When Neville Longbottom came to her office, asking for advice, with his clumsy hands and a respectful fear in his eyes, she offered him a biscuit and some tea, and she gave him reassurance with her stern frown and her steady voice.

When Remus Lupin became the DADA teacher, she invited him to her office. She offered him biscuits too, some chocolate this time. They talked for a long time, about old times and forgotten joys, about four friends and their mischiefs and pranks. They looked back on their bets and their antics, their hopes and their dreams. They didn’t talk about death, not that evening, and the Marauders came back to life in that room, their voices rising and stealing pieces of a future they hadn’t gotten to live. They also talked about their students, homework and assignments, because they were teachers after all, and that was something worth remembering.

She gave him a knitted jumper for Christmas. He gave her a box of chocolates. Years later, she would stand by his grave and leave a single flower on it. A flower for the boy she’d known and the man he’d become. The man who was kind and quiet and healing. The man she’d like to have gotten to know better.

Albus died then, a shout and a blaze of green light. A fall, and it was all over. It felt like the end of an age. “Are the rumours true?”, she had asked, once upon a time. Now she wanted to ask Harry the same thing, trying to keep her voice from shaking, because Albus Dumbledore couldn’t be dead, could he? But then again, James and Lily couldn’t have been, either, and yet they had been, they were.

When the Second Wizarding War began, she stayed at the school. She kept teaching, because she was a teacher and she would not let them take that from her. Because her students were there, and she wouldn’t leave them alone. She wouldn’t let them die, all those brave children, if she could do something to save them. She wasn’t like Albus, who had prepared himself to sacrifize a boy in the name of the greater good. A boy’s life for the sake of the world.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, there was a destroyed castle and ashes. Minerva stumbled when she saw George’s desperation and Fred’s frozen smile. She wanted to cry when she came across Lavender’s body. She finally collapsed to her knees, when she found Colin Creevey. She had seen him this still, once before. But there were no mandrake leaves to save him, not this time. He was too young. He shouldn’t have been fighting a war, the brave and naïve boy.

Pomona Sprout kneeled next to her then, and Minerva sobbed on her shoulder.

“A boy”, she cried. “He was a boy, he was a child. Children, they were children.”

Pomona let her weep, and then she said,

“There are children here still. They are alive, and they need you, and more will come, and you’ll be there. And you’ll be fine.”

And she was right. Minerva collected the pieces once again, and she moved on. She sent a box of chocolates to Dennis Creevey, as Remus would have done, because he was so much better at being kind than her. Than any of them, really. Dennis sent her a photograph, an old picture of Albus and her, the Weasley twins laughing in the background. She met Molly Weasley for tea, and they shared anecdotes. And she went back to Hogwarts and she kept teaching, because she was a teacher before anything else. She became the new headmaster. The best one of them all.

Some years later, Neville Longbottom knocked at her door, asking for a job. She remembered all the times he had come, asking for advice with his stammering voice. She remembered the way he had led the resistance, the way he had stood up and defied the ones who had made his parents lose their minds. The way he had worked hard and stubborn, never giving up. She offered him a biscuit and some tea. She had never felt so proud.

When he left, she went through some papers. She looked up and the portrait of Albus Dumbledore winked at her. She smiled and went back to work.

When Teddy Lupin arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, expectation in his eyes and bright colours in his hair, he was nothing like the other orphan who had stared at her once upon a time, the one who had had skinny elbows and broken glasses. Teddy Lupin wasn’t looking for a family, he already had one. But, as she had done before, she saw another student, and for her, that was enough.

She was a teacher. Students were her children. And she was their rock.

prop culture (2020) ➤ william moseley, anna popplewell, and georgie henley (ft. peter’s shield)

“it feels a lot lighter!”