frosted flame, corteous demon

Spencer Wilberforce. 16. Year 6, Gryffindor. Pureblood, youngest of four. Beasts, Quidditch and Muggle-sports enthusiast.

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summer season • do not edit.

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I’M BACK FROM HIATUS WHOOHOO! Replies coming ASAP I need to sleep first zzzzZzZzzzz

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So I’m going to take a 2-week hiatus until September 13; I’ve got two weddings to help around with the next two weekends and that means I need to squeeze in all my month-worth of work to finish before that as well. I can still plot though, just perhaps no starters or replies for now. Pls pray for my sanity cries I’ll see you guys soon!

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© 사서함 526호의 우편물 | Editing allowed with credit. (1)

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you’ve got mail! | rose&spence

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The breath Rose releases is oddly shaky.

She’s a confident girl, headstrong and shameless (which is a nice way of putting it). Yet, here she is, trembling at the thought of rejecting this guy. I mean—come on! I’ve never been confessed to before!! Her past romances always began on her end and well…Rose never gave up on love—which is also a nice way of putting that she was always the on being dumped.  

Yet, here she is—doing the unthinkable.

How exciting!

Her heart is pounding in happiness at the thought of someone liking her this much. It’s about damn time too! She’s only had to wait fifteen whole years (Ha-ha..ha….).

Oh, shit—he’s talking to her.

“Oh—uhm,” she stops, noticing how far she’s walked caught up in her thoughts. Seeing a relatively private corner, a nice space where no one can bother them even if this quiet hallway suddenly gets busy, she turns and grabs the corner of his sleeve, pulling him towards it. “Right here is fine.”

Deliberately, she takes a step back—creating an appropriate distance (don’t lead him on!).

Now, face to face with him and no one around, Rose feels a little sad. This will more-than-likely hurt his feelings. Plus, what great love has she lost out on? Maybe in an alternate universe, Rose is dating him, happy as can be and completely in love. Maybe they get married and have kids! Maybe they—wait.

“What’s yer name?” The question is blurted out and she quickly waves her hand. “No, wait, that isn’t what I want to say—not, that yer’ name isn’t important! Of course it is, but—” Clenching her eyes shut for a moment, Rose tries again, holding up her hand to signal for him to let her speak.

“I—uh…Thank ye’ for the letter, it’s very…” she can’t help the wistful sigh that interrupts her sentence and the way her fingers tenderly start to curl over the envelope. “Sweet.” Rose gives him a dimpled smile and holds it close to her chest.

“And, I enjoyed readin’ it—a lot…But!” she forces the words out, knowing she has to say them. “I’m…uh—I’m seein’ someone, well—he doesn’t know it yet, but things are getting pretty serious, ye’ know?  And well, yer’ as cute as a button—and I mean really cute,” she very obviously lets her eyes run over his body before coming back to herself (control yerself woman!) “ But, I’m in love with this man.”

Slowly her smile dies as she gives him a sad look—she knows the feeling of getting rejected and somehow, being on the other end isn’t as fun as she thought it was going to be. “So…I’m sorry—I can’t accept.” Rose ends her speech softly, peeking up at him to gauge a reaction.

But, seriously—what a let-down.

All her imaginations of rejecting someone are crushed. It is not exciting (at all)! And God forbid he starts crying—like she normally does. Then what is she supposed to do?! Instead, all she feels now is terrible. And she can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking!

Maybe if she stares longer, she can figure it out?

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There’s this thing that flies inside his head the whole time the girl’s practically dragging him with her presence—confusion? No, something more intense. This whole behaviour she’s showing him is rather... curious. One would think they are up to no good hidden on a private corner like this.

But at some point, Spencer just gives up his attempt to understand—his mind is busy arranging excuses—lies—to tell both his friend and the poor boy’s girlfriend of what’s happened and how to survive hell from it. He’s not leaving Hogwarts as a cold corpse today.

But then the girl asked for a his name—weird, why would she need my name?—and yet even before Spencer opens his mouth to reply, she’s all stuttering already and blabbering about things that Spencer slowly loses focus on because hey, did she just call me cute?!

She just called me cute! Holy smokes, I’m cute!

I mean, I know that, but no one’s ever agreed with me and now finally someone does!

But then she goes on about how she’s in love with this man and Spencer thinks he just hits his limits in understanding girls.

“O—kay?” He responds after seconds of silence, his eyebrows furrowed, only hearing half of the what the petite girl is saying, and intensely processing the rest. Why do girls always talk in circles? Why can’t they just get straight to the point and save everyone some good time, why?! “Thank you for telling this stranger about your dire love for this one man, that’s very nice of you, it shows I’m trustable. But really, why would you even apologi—”

Oh. OH. Merlin’s beard, now he understands! Oh God, she thinks the letter is for her! And what’s worse, she thinks it’s from me!

“Wait, no no no, this is all just a huge misunderstanding!” An awkward laugh slips past his lips, “That letter is not from me, I’m not—My name is Spencer Wilb—oh, here, let me just show you—” He takes the letter from the other girl, hands rather shaky from the realisation as if he just cracked a decade-worth of mystery, and hastily opens the parchment to show her, “—see, it’s from George! It should be written underneath it, George Synderby—”

Hold on. Spencer freezes. This letter has no name whatsoever! No sender, no receiver, nothing! Great. Just terrific.

It takes a lot in him not to just slam his face to the paved floor of the hallway.

“Okay, apparently there’s no name in there—” He laughs again, even more awkwardly, “But I’m really sorry, this is really not from me. Nor was it supposed to be delivered to you. My owl was very sleepy, I suppose, this should be on the hand of George’s girlfriend now.” He purses his lips—as expected of him, blurting all the facts in one go—and his eyes searches for the girl’s own pair.

Oh Lord, please don’t cry—this is not my fault is it? Is it?!

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I JUST HAD TO DO A SEUNGCHEOL SMILE COMPILATION I’M SORRY.

i would be lying if i said i didn’t die a couple of times doing these .gifs

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© The Seoul Story | Do not edit.

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SERENITY // Spencer + Jake

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Jake was taking a stroll around, it was merely because he enjoyed it but it was also a moment where he thought of many things, be it a moment from long ago (a girl was laughing alongside him and their meetings were secretive, only coming around when midnight strikes), or simply ideas or philosophy or anything regarding healing. He was just walking around aimlessly with no goal, praying that he didn’t get hit b the Whomping Willow this time yet again.

This time though, he wasn’t as completely as focused as before, his mind having supplied him with the idea of ‘war’ of all things. It was because of that conversation with Michelle, when the topic came up, his brain spurred into action and countless of depressing thoughts had took over his mind. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to keep his thoughts astray from such ideas, but it seemed unlikely.

Then, the sounds of cheers and jeers, intense shouting of all forms, reached his ears. Taking a look around, he noticed the massive Quidditch field. Quidditch, it wasn’t exactly a sport he indulged himself in. His father did taught him how, he had a talent for being a Beater, plus the fact that he did baseball helped. Unfortunately that talent was wasted in favour of studying.

The idea of him being in the Quidditch team made him snort lightly, probably never going to happen for sure. After all, such precious time could be done researching more about healing.

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The sky is getting darker, and his sight is slowly adjusting to the darkening surrounding; he notices a few students already gives up on their training, perhaps from hunger, and off to get their dinner in the Great Hall. Spencer, on the other hand, doesn’t think he wants to have any dinner, not tonight.

This is nice. He always wants to once in a while feel as if he’s the only person living in this vast world. A serenity. What he needs best from time to time so he just stops thinking he’s a disappointment to his family all the time. Just a world where he perhaps is a different person at all.

What a joke. He will still be a disappointment anyway, this is reality.

Yet at that very moment, from the corner of his eyes, he notices another figure a few blocks of seats next to him. He can’t see their face, but Spencer is feeling rather annoyed that they’re disturbing his moment of piece, whoever that might be. So he lies his back down on the seat, neck no longer straining to see 

“Oi,” he calls out, eyes closing again, his voice echoes around the open space, “What are you doing there, everyone’s off for dinner already, you know.”

He doesn’t want to seem so rude, still. He doesn’t know who they are. Make friends, not enemies, especially when one has no idea what the other has in store.

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can someone very nicely explain to me how to not get that stair-y reblogs argh I’m lacking Tumblr skill. :(

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crests | chungha&spencer

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chunghapuff:

Chungha giggled as Spencer took a seat next to her, laying out in the grass. She figured she could follow suit and so she fanned her black hair out, laying right next to him.

She chuckled at his response and closed her eyes. { “Even if you’re sleepy, you should have some pride and at least shine your crest. After all, this is what people will see you as. A Gryffindor” } she paused and giggled a little. { “I guess that’s why Hufflepuff is the best. We’re proud yet humble” }.

She never understood why people underestimated her house so much. After all, badgers were unafraid of toil, right? And they were the most loyal of the houses. They helped each other out a lot.

{ “Your house is a tad too…competitive for my tastes” } she grinned at her lion companion.

“Oh, come ooon.” Spencer almost pouts, his childish trait taking the best of the situation, “I walked this far so I can have a rest at this beautiful grass garden and you’re starting on again with this whole house discussion thing. I hate you sometimes.” He playfully shakes his head, though it’s obvious his competitive side is slowly boiling up at the possibility of an argument.

“Hey, I am proud of my house. I just don’t go around telling other people about it and act humble.” He sticks his tongue out at his female friend as a form of teasing. “Competitiveness is what drives the world round, girl. Badgers like you like peace, but at more points that one, peace is just so boring. What’s the world without a little ups and downs?”

He hums and laces his fingers just under his head, elbows extended to the side as he relaxes further onto the grass. A grin curled on on the corner of his lips as his eyelids shut close once again. They do this a lot; arguing about each their houses that Spencer is no longer fazed by saying some things that might seem hurtful.

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