Fieri Frames
Jimmy Eat World
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Interview Vampire Daily
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
macklin celebrini has autism
Mike Driver
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
NASA
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
RMH
Not today Justin
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tannertan36
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occasionally subtle
Love Begins
seen from Singapore
seen from Canada
seen from T1
seen from Mexico
seen from Venezuela
seen from Iraq
seen from Ecuador
seen from Ukraine
seen from Poland
seen from Liberia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Palestinian Territories
seen from Iraq
seen from Nigeria
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from Bahrain
@lavender-graves-blog
OOC: Goodbye
I feel no ties or inspiration to continue running this blog. It’s been really fun, but it has had it’s time and it’s time to lay it to rest. Thank you all so much for your love and support and to @mrpercivalgraves for inspiring me to create this blog. I wish you all the best, from the bottom of my heart. Goodbye.
Excuse me, but you're cologne smells like your daddy has money.
My father is dead and did not have much money before he died.
For the love if Merlin, dad.
Hey, how's life? Haven't heard from you in a while.
Life is fine. A bit lonely. Not much to report on, honestly.
what's your opinion on Zeus?
Pompous
Accent ^_^
3/10
?Accent?
This actually doesn’t count because you already sent one. You can send as many as you want in anon though!
*Sits on your sofa*
*looks at you, wide eyed* hello little one. How’d you wander into here? *offers hand for you to climb onto*
Wander? It took some trouble getting in through the window. There’s a cat out there so I couldn’t exactly walk in through the front door.
O...kay then. Why are you here?
*Sits on your sofa*
*looks at you, wide eyed* hello little one. How'd you wander into here? *offers hand for you to climb onto*
ACCENT /\ \/
2/10
Accent x3
1/10
Hey
I'm bored. Ask me stuff.
If I get ten “accents” I’ll record myself saying all this!
TUMBLR ACCENT CHALLENGE!
Your name and username.
Where you’re from.
Pronounce the following words: aunt, roof, route, theater, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, New Orleans, Pecan, both, again, probably, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, pajamas, caught, naturally, aluminum, GIF, Tumblr, Crackerjack, doorknob, envelope, GPOY.
What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is a bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
What is the thing you change the TV channel with?
Choose a book and read a passage from it.
Do you think you have an accent?
Would you rather be a wizard or a vampire?
Do you know anyone on Tumblr in real life?
End audio post by saying any THREE words you want.
Yess (my accent is shitty af but I’ll do it y'all)
PLEASE I REALLY WANNA
Lmao why not !I could do that
OOC: I will totally do this!! Probably gonna have to upload it on YouTube though
First experience with true love?
I have never experienced true love in a romantic sense.
OCC: THEY'RE GONE
OOC: WOOPS
I THOUGHT I WAS ON MY SHITPOSTING BLOG SO I REBLOGGED MEMES LET ME CLEAN THIS UP
Here Lies An Urn
A fanfic reenactment from @mrpercivalgraves + @lavender-graves
Prompt: Lavender patiently waits to visit her father in her office, but as she discovers one of the greatest and possibly foul secrets that lurks in Percival Graves’s office, sHIT HITS THE FAN.
Word Count: 1,666
Warning: Slight scatters of curse words. (But it ain’t bad :) )
Enjoy, peeps! 💛
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With another day duplicated like any other previous days, nothing was new. It was the same goddamn morning, the same goddamn bland, scorching coffee, and the same goddamn annoying secretary that’s just across the office of Percival Graves, the Head Auror of the Mystical Defense Department of MACUSA. Frustrated sighs increases the air pressure of the room to the point where the question arise with a meaningless purpose of: Where the hell is the oxygen if he’s going to keep exhaling deeply the whole damn day? Shuffling through paperwork and filing through important and unimportant documents scattered a bit messily on some corners of his desk and he’d frequently try to sight for his wand when he’d forget they’re in his hand. To sum it up, as a busy man, it’s a self-explained excuse to even feel more stressed than an important Auror needs to be.
The clock strikes 11.
He excuses himself to get away from his work and headed to the conference hall for all Aurors to meet and discuss various cases. With a swift flick of his wrist, elegance in his fingers, the door locks with an echoing ‘click’, the enchantment to keep the door closed until his identification is sensed around the office door. He turns to the corner, completely avoided by the fact that there goes his daughter, the one who he deeply dedicates his whole entire life on, sneaks up from behind right when Graves is out of sight. As she somehow easily unlock the door of her father’s office, she sneaked in, coming up with a choice to surprise him rather than greet him like normal and hoped to spend some time with him around his office.
She sets herself down on the slightly cold, leathery chair that was the same color to most of his belongings around every corner of his office: Black. Splashes of white and gray, but there was nothing appealing than black. She leans back on the office chair before she side views to the shelf on the right, in which she spots the most peculiar thing. A jar with a curve that leads to the top of the dome-shaped lid, but was small enough to reenact as a vase for a simple white flower that sits and wilts on the darkness of the shadow on the top corner of the black shelf.
Curiosity takes over her conscience, her brows crooked as she wonders with questions and lifts off her weight out of the chair. She reaches up on her delicate toes to grasp for the odd shaped thing and hold it in her arms, realizing that the peculiar thing was… An urn..?
Lavender, with some emotions of small astonishment and judgement, she thinks to herself.
“An urn? An urn of a dead human being that stands highly on the top of my father’s office,” she rotates the urn to look around the metal sleek surface, “I… don’t see any– Wait… A name…”
Brushing off the dusty particles to shine the name that reflects under the gloomy morning light, it reads: Tristan Graves.
“Graves… Graves?”
Before she can continue her train of thoughts, the door creaks open with a steady and sneaky hand. She looks over at the door, opening up to see Percival Graves. Her father stands there, astounded and completely flabbergasted as to why his office was mysteriously open.
“Lavender?”
His confusion summarized his whole entire face, which spelt complete confusion and concern.
“Lavender, what are you doing here? I thought you were… O-out to the market. I didn’t even know that-.”
He spots the urn that’s wrapped in Lavender’s hands. His eyes widen in fear and embarrassment, for he never knew that this day would occur. He points at he urn with a shaky hand.
“What do you have there? Wait, where did you find-…”
“Dad, it says ‘Graves’ on it…”
A subtle pause fills the air before a small and questioning “what.”
“It says ‘Graves’ right here. It’s scratched in the name of ‘Tim Graves.’ Dad, why do you have this here?”
Percival’s mouth was gapped, as if words were supposedly going to come out, but no noise or syllable was heard. He was quite talented to defend for himself in court of a case in front of the eyes of many judges, but with Lavender, for she is one of his weaknesses, this is an argument that he won’t win. He began to change the subject.
“Lavender, how did you get into my office? I swear I casted charms on the lock and bolt of the door. It’s funny that I didn’t see you–.”
Lavender’s tone began to rise, irritation with a cold stare changes the atmosphere of the room.
“Dad, stop it. You know what I have in my hand and you can’t run away from this. Tell me,” she takes a step to her father, holding the urn with one hand as she asks once more, “who is in this urn? And answer me honestly.”
Percival looks at the urn, at Lavender, then back at the urn before he says, “It was simply just a gift from–”
“Ugh!” She storms to the opposite of the office, the volume of her voice empowering Graves.
“Father, you’re lying to me! You said you’d never lie to me!”
Percival shuts the door and talks with a very stiff and calming voice, “Lavender, I’d never lie to you…”
“You just did! You did this lie right before my eyes! Wait no, in fact, this is a LIE that you kept for so. Damn. Long!”
“Lavender, I would never lie to you! I can never lie to you! I love you! My girl, you know that!”
They chase each other around the office, shouting back and forth towards a war that may never come to a stop. Lavender shouts, Percival shouts back, the urn sits on the dead center of the desk, and the secretary covers his ears to prevent himself from eavesdropping.
“I’m not a stupid girl, Father. Look!”
She snatched the urn and points harshly at the name. “'Tristan’. ‘Tristan Graves’!”
She slams the urn on the desk. “'Graves’, Dad. 'GRAVES’.”
“Who the hell is Tristan Graves!?”
Percival says with a stern voice, “Watch what you’re saying to me, Lavender! I’m still your father!”
“Answer my DAMN question!”
Percival glared at Lavender as she did the same, but he was caught red-handed. He paused for a second or two, gathered his thoughts and said as calmly as he can, “Tristan Graves… Was your little brother…”
Lavender fell silent as he continued. “He–… He was still… With your mother, Jade, before she passed. Your mother was only three months pregnant when she and Tristan died. And she kept him a secret until she was only two months. She told me when she was on her hospital bed, growing worst and weak as weeks passed. It was incredibly painful…”
He turned away, holding back an upcoming tear as he forced himself to finish the story.
“The hour of her death was coming, her face was pale as the color of what life would look like as it drains out of your own body. She couldn’t lift a finger or speak a word; her beautiful, soothing voice was trapped under Hell’s disease… Your Momma… She looked fragile and broken… No spell, charm, or any form of magic could help her…”
Lavender suddenly felt a sprout of guilt, feeling horrible for making her papa tell the story that killed him for years on end. By then, the pain was numb and stale. Percival sighs heavily, the back of his head to his neck throbbing with great force within his skull, the emotions taking up the capacity of his guts. He takes in a moment of silence to collect himself before he speaks with a quiet and soft voice, trying to show affection.
“My daughter… Do you remember what you would ask me every night before you sleep when you were young?”
Lavender pauses.
A beat.
“'Are you sure… No one would kidnap me while I’m asleep? You’re not lying?’”
Lavender, with her head hang low but her eyes meeting her father’s dark oak orbs, waits for the response that fills up her ears with such love and warmth.
Percival speaks with the same tone that he carried around with him whenever he speaks those words.
“'In my honor and life, I will never… Ever lie to you…’”
He continues on, a step around the corner creates a gentle effect on Lavender.
“'Because you are my baby…’”
A step.
“'My wonder…’”
A step.
“'My love…’”
A step.
By then, he was already close to his daughter, a sweet smile that no one rarely sees besides Lavender takes form on his face.
“'My flower…’”
He kisses softly on his daughter’s forehead, muttering the last two words.
“'My Lavender…’”
Lavender looked way beyond with her eyes shuts as the familiar and comfortable feeling of those words made her feel nostalgic. Her father was a good man. She knew this. But still, nothing felt perfect anymore and she had to escape before she could splatter any more of the mess before it dries.
“Papa, I-I’m sorry…”
“Wh-what? Wait–.”
“I have to go, I need to leave!”
She quickly dashed to get her bag.
“Lavender…”
Ignoring the calls of her father.
“Lavender, please…”
And flies straight out.
“Lavender?! Lavender!”
Out of the door.
“LAVENDER.”
Percival tries to catch her back, trailing around her when she flees. The door swung wide open, the atmosphere of the office heavy and dead. It was too silent. Percival Graves was left standing in front of his desk when he failed to get Lavender back, feeling and thinking that everything fell apart from this point. It took his seconds before he turned away one last time to hold back the river forming in the corner of his eyes. So now, feeling afraid for his only family, every piece between him and Lavender felt permanently damaged.
What's your idea of the perfect date?
Stargazing in the middle of nowhere, or perhaps atop hogwarts castle. You could see the sky so clearly from up there.
