finesse.

chiara kim. 6th year. your favourite sly. i can be the subject of your dreams.

[gryffxadara-blog]

` sparkle ‘

[slychiara-blog]

gryffxadara:

just imagining what her mother would say to her getting more piercings has a shiver running down adara’s spine. she has always did her mother’s bidding, never once disobeying her parents, but that really hasn’t stopped her thoughts from wandering towards the what ifs of her day dreams and curiosities. if anything, the slytherin hits the nail right on the head when she says that curiosity is a good thing. “that looks like a safe place to start.” she agrees quietly, choosing her words carefully and weighing their implications on her tongue before releasing them with finality. she bites her lip and watches the way chiara’s piercings glimmer in the light and adara finds herself wanting more and more to have something similar. “if you’re sure that i won’t be a bother then i would definitely like to go with you.” 

a smile graces her lips, followed by a nod of her head. needles and the thought of them anywhere near skin didn’t sit well with some, and the idea of body modification held a type of stigma, especially with older generations. chiara, on the other hand, thought of it as an art form, and was genuinely happy to see someone take interest in the same, if not a similar, sentiment. “people take pain in different levels, so don’t try anything big unless you think you’re ready. the upper lobe should be okay for you, i think.” she’s humming on her last word, fingers combing raven locks behind her ear as she eyes adara, a smile still present. “you wouldn’t be a bother, i swear! will you be staying at the castle over the holidays, or will you be heading back home? i’ve gotten mine done at muggle places mostly, but maybe there’s a wizarding equivalent around at hogsmeade, maybe? i haven’t checked.”

[fmdyujinarchive]

✘ the parent trap.

[slychiara-blog]

slyanna:

the last thing she expects is a conversation striking up, but that’s exactly what happens. one moment she’s ready to simply return to her bed and maybe take a nice power nap, and the next, her fellow sixth year slytherin is in front of her with a curious question. 

she nods her head with a slight smile on her face. anna didn’t think her name was very odd, but she could understand that it may sound new to people, especially with how diverse everybody’s backgrounds seemed to be. heck, some people at the school didn’t even have an english name. while chiara was not one of those, she could understand the curiosity.

“mhm! i just go by anna though because annabelle is a mouthful to say. honestly, i don’t even know how she found out because i don’t remember ever telling her, but if she saw any of my official papers i guess she could know?” only a few knew her full name, and so it remained a mystery as to how the other female ever found out, but there was always a way to things.

chiara hadn’t exactly expected to speak to the girl before her, nor start a conversation involving something of the past (and now no longer existing), but the name annabelle evoked more of a reaction than she would’ve liked. “i...” ( chiara thinks it’s too late to back out at this point, and thinks she should’ve kept her mouth shut. she should have because she hadn’t thought this far. ) “...know someone named annabelle, that’s all. or, well, used to.” 

telling a little white lie – could it even be called that? – wouldn’t hurt anyone. it was true, chiara did ‘know’ someone who went by the name of annabelle. “i just got caught by surprise,” she continues, a nod of her head following. “and found it pretty interesting one of my roommates has the same name. i thought you were just anna this entire time, you know?” she’s laughing it off, albeit very nervously, and looks to the said girl, hoping she’d stop her from talking.

because if chiara kept talking, then only merlin knows what else she could say next. and so, her hands clasp together, fingers holding onto them a little too tightly. “i’m sorry, am i holding you up? don’t mind me, i’ll get out of your hair now.” 

[ravchaeyeon-deactivated20170103]

drunken nights.

[slychiara-blog]

ravchaeyeon:

chaeyeon was unable to grasp the idea of someone drowning their sorrows on the bathroom. perhaps, the sentiment behind driving someone to do such thing. then again, it wasn’t on her rightful spot to speak about such when she was prying a girl’s privacy by knocking on a stall. yet, there was part of relief that relinquished her thoughts once her demand was responded with a loud blow followed by a hoarse voice.

the female wondered how much the latter was crying.

her hands release the fist as her other hand grasps the emanating red from palm. as she stares at the stall, her head turns to the vicinity. seeing how empty it was, chaeyeon realized why it would be a good idea to be here instead of the common rooms where people actually could link your actions with a name. her feet going up and down within the spot before hearing a loud collision from the front.

“are you okay?” she inquires once again taking notice it was from the same stall she was waiting to open. her hand reaching for her wand, not before letting out a curt apology. her wand drifts to the lock as she takes a step back, “alohomora.” with the spell enchanted well, the door opens and chaeyeon is greeted by a starfallen girl whose energy seemed to not be found.

she places the wand back in her robes before extending her hand, “let me help.”

if she was sober, chiara would shake her head at how much of a fool she looked like in that very moment – crying her face off in a cubicle of myrtle’s bathroom, probably having outcried the crier of a ghost herself. unfortunately, a drunk mind does not allow her to mull over any kind of embarrassment she should be feeling because there were ‘bigger’ things to cry about... such as her not being able to stand up on her own two feet.

what she's hearing outside the door is heard as faint murmuring, before the door suddenly opens itself, and before the slytherin at this very moment is a seemingly concerned figure, a shade of blue as part of her uniform robes, and an extended hand out to her. chiara, who can only look at the girl in a dumbfounded manner, nods her head childishly and reaches out, fingers curling around the palm of the hand that wasn’t hers and pulls herself out.

“i’m s-sorry,” she stutters out in a slur, laughing either nervously or in a drunken stupor, chiara couldn’t tell. what follows is an “i’m okayyyyy”. the idea of ‘playing it cool’ on a false pretense seemed like a valid way to go about her business. (or so she thought.) “thank yo--” a hiccup cuts her words off. “...sarry. i’m okay now, thank you!” she’s sporting the best smile she can manage and her words say one thing...

but the way chiara holds onto chaeyeon’s hand, using it for leverage, and the way a corner of her lip begins to quiver tells an entirely different story.

[chungha101]

© holic / flash209 | editing allowed but do not crop the logo or use commercially

[slychiara-blog]

slybrianna:

her feet are killing her. unfortunately, that is not a very uncommon thought for the youngest myoui – ballet may be beautiful, but it takes its toll, and that’s not always an unpleasant side of it – but heels, especially this thin and tall, were gradually becoming more than she could take.

she doesn’t let that show though, taking some dancing, walking and socializing an unusual amount. there’s always her quiet smile there–that or the blank face she’s known for, although as the amount of alcohol consumes goes up, the last becomes almost unseen for tonight. the girl is a controlled one, after all: the clockwork princess, give up her title only for sore fingers and feet heels?

however, as the night goes by, she can’t help but to consider it. the red haired ends up announcing her momentarily leave to her partner, chewing on her bottom lip and avoiding anyone in her way the moment she turns around. the only thing she can see is one of the farther tables, and, when she takes her seat in one of them, the beautiful golden shoes come out right away and she sighs in relief.

quickly the ballerina hides her aching feet under the shimmering table cloth when someone approaches her, and, even though the face is a very familiar one, she decides to rest them there permanently–or at least for as long as she will be here. 

“i saw your date.” bree tells her roommate quietly, as if this was some sort of taboo subject. she wasn’t sure it wasn’t. “you look good together.”

chiara has mostly kept to herself for the night. though she should be socializing with people, she's wishing she was in bed; but she’s not entirely rude. her lips twitch up into a smile or her hand goes up in a wave when someone greets her. she’s wearing a little black dress especially made for her, she’s had her hair and makeup done, and even has a date, though she has not a clue where he’s gotten to. truth is, she wasn’t in a festive mood, and would rather watch others having the time of their lives instead.

her line of sight meets with animated chatter by students and professors alike at tables scattered throughout the great hall or the sway of a sea of bodies on the dancefloor – some of them off-beat, chiara notes, but seemingly having fun without a care in the world about how to ‘properly’ dance – to muggle music. one hand holds onto a glass half-filled with fruit punch, red in colour (yet an opposite shade in the bowl) whilst the other is busy with her phone, thumb skimming over the screen. thank merlin they could use muggle tech again.

when she decides to move from her spot, from standing to sitting, she doesn’t realise one of her roommates is also at the same table she’s heading towards, seemingly relieved. chiara’s in the seat adjacent to the girl, and lifts her attention from her phone as bree speaks to her. she can only shake her head at the next sentiment that follows, smiling yet ignoring the faint tint of colour on her cheeks. “looks can be deceiving,” chiara simply says, taking a small sip of her drink. “how about your mystery man... woman... person? do indulge me.”

[slychiara-blog]

slyanna:

“get your hot ass off your bed. you’re going to this ball whether you like it or not because my mother sent a dress just for you, and she wants pictures.”

convincing her roommate to go has proven to be difficult, and her last resort was guilt tripping her because who could say no to a hand-sewn dress, right? the female was dressed in sweats with a box of chocolate frogs in front of her, and all anna could do was roll her eyes. forget the fact that it was practically required for everybody to attend, she just couldn’t believe that chi would want to miss out on what is most likely going to end up in a juicy, gossip-filled mess.

“plus, don’t you even have a date? the ball is starting in like three hours or something, and i’m gonna need that amount of time to do your hair and makeup because you look like a mess, and not a fine one this time.”

“wait, what the hell, you were serious?”

chiara hadn’t a clue what she was in for when the yule ball came around. she also didn’t think anna was being legitimate about dragging her homebody ass out of bed or her mother making a dress for her – which now makes her feel like shit because who the hell could say no to the request of a loving mother? chiara was raised to be polite to elders, especially parents, and she can only sigh, because she wished she had the heart to decline.

“alright, enough with the nagging! merlin, what are you, my mother?” chiara grabs for a chocolate frog, practically throwing it at the other girl like a rock. she’d already been dragged out earlier to find something to wear, and the idea of being dolled up in the next three or so hours doesn’t sit well with her. “okay, maybe i have a date. but-- in the midst of you trying to make me all pretty, could you kill me at the same time? like, y’know. multitasking.” 

[jiminhuff-blog]

a win, win situation.

[slychiara-blog]

jiminhuff:

Their interactions had begun years before, when they were still both fresh and wide eyed. Jimin had struggled with charms and Chiara had been graceful enough to volunteer her help. A handful of library trips later and he was doing better in classes but a warmth had begun to heat up his chest, a bouquet of flowers had begun to take root. Their tendrils taking stem in his heart, entangling with the veins there and squeezing every time she so much as looked at him. The first time she smiled at him, he could swear that he felt buds growing in a place that he didn’t realize had been so empty and quiet before her. One thing had led to another and Jimin hadn’t realized anyone could make him feel the way she did.

Things were rocky now at best. And while Jimin knows how she might react, he also knows that there are factors that might change her mind or opinion about him and that tears him up inside. The uncertainty of it all, the fear she won’t see his sincerity. “I probably could have picked somewhere else. But I wanted some privacy away from our classmates.” A quiet place for her to turn him down, a chance to pick up the pieces of his pride and heart in private. The tiny insults that come with her words sting and he knows that he should probably back off now. But he refuses to give in, she’s right. He’s incredibly headstrong.

Jimin reaches out with his free hand and gently takes her wrist, drawing her hands out of her pockets. He knows that she can feel the chill on his skin, his fingers like small iceblocks. “I can only imagine what you’re going to say, but I can’t just assume without asking you.” He reaches into his other pocket with his free hand, his fingers gently encircling the sprig of fresh blooming lilacs. Jimin lifts it from the fabric slowly and presents it to her, shielding the flower from the harsh and frigid wind. He smiles softly, a twinge of sadness in the curve of his lips. “Will you go to the yule ball with me?” He twirls the flower in his fingers, his other hand clenching hers so softly, his hold loosening with every passing moment.

there’s a sort of apprehensiveness in the way chiara holds herself together in his presence, heaving out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in her chest. perhaps she was bracing herself for something she wasn’t aware of, a feeling of the unknown brewing in the pit of her stomach. an internal voice inside her says it’s something she shouldn’t be a part of, but she’s quick to push that away. perhaps it’s the choice of venue he chose to meet her affecting her stance and mood. after all, they were in the middle of a december winter. or perhaps it was her earlier errands, finding “the right dress” taking its dreadful toll on her.

or… perhaps it was the idea of being alone with him. the boy she once came to love so much. the first person she learned how to love, and loved with what she could give of her heart. the boy who made her laugh, made her cry, made her smile, made her feel like she wanted to die. she’d taken the fall, her hand in his, and two years of history, of arguments, of raw feelings, of tender moments, of apologies… that took its toll on her. if chiara could sum up jimin in a single word, she’d say he was unpredictable – and perhaps it was the unpredictability of future events beyond this moment was what had her feeling... uneasy.

at the sight of fresh blooming lilacs before her in his hand, she reacts accordingly with widened eyes, in pure surprise, her hand releasing the one she was holding as she lifts them to cover her nose and mouth. now, chiara was no herbologist, nor one to read into the meaning of flowers, but she had a memory on her to recall that lilacs once represented the emotions of a first love – which is exactly what jimin was to chiara, and vice versa. she’s a bundle of nerves and a clusterfuck of feelings, only just managing to register his question. “i…” ( a pause. a moment to contemplate. her better judgement says to decline, but her yearning heart does the talking instead. ) “y-yes… i mean, yeah. i’ll go with you.”

chiara smiles a small smile. she’s broken his heart before, and he hers. she just has to remind herself there’s nothing more to him, asking her to the yule ball. there is nothing more. but her heart jumps, realising he’s taken a hold of her hand again. merlin, she’s fucked.

[jiminhuff-blog]

a win, win situation.

[slychiara-blog]

jiminhuff:

The resounding sound of heels against pavement brings him out of his reverie. Jimin pushes himself to stand up straight, still a little hesitant though. He wonders if he’s going to get his hopes up again only to be surprised by the appearance of another stranger. But it’s definitely Chiara, it’s her voice that pierces the silence that had fallen over the courtyard. It’s also the same voice that seemingly causes his heart rate to pick up. Despite all of that, he feels his lips quirk up into a small smile, only he only seems to wholly belong to her, Jimin forgets the cold that stabs at his limbs and instead ducks his head down, his blood seemingly fills the apples of his cheeks. It only seems to get hotter when her bare hand brushes against his skin before seemingly coming to a halt there. It burns and he bites down on his tongue for a moment, resisting the urge to groan at the lush feeling of heat.

Instead he expands his smile, his eyes falling into small crescents. “I haven’t been out here that long.” He whines hoping to cover up the lie he tells her, but it’s for her own good. He knows that hearing the truth would cause her to be angry at him, angry at his idiotic tendencies. Jimin still remembers the slight arguments they seemed to always fall into. He loses himself to his musings though as he watches her movements, the gloves, and the sound of her voice. He shakes his head and tugs at his bottom lip. “Ah Chi, please. You know I’m not that dumb.” His open palms falls to his side where he clenches them, testing his strength. “I actually called you out here with a purpose, I promise.“

despite feeling the need to be outright angry with him that he stood out in the cold in waiting for her, chiara’s insides feel as if they’re on fire with the way he’s smiling at her, and yet, he hadn’t said a word. the thought of him possibly becoming sick from the cold because of waiting for her clearly didn’t sit well, and she could only hope the hard stare, the furrowed eyebrows, the way her lips scrunch and how her arms fold up across her chest she’s directing at him exuded pure annoyance over his stubbornness. the latter had been one of many causes of arguments they shared in the past, but chiara didn’t come here to argue. she’s only worried, after all. she always was. she can only let out an elongated sigh, a stream of white smoke leaving her lips. 

however, she’s still pushing her gloves into his hands. or at least trying to. when he doesn’t take them, she’s shoving them into the nearest pocket of his she can find, her now bare fingers brushing stray raven locks out and away from her face. “no, you’re not that dumb... you’re just incredibly headstrong. and also a terrible liar. you’re bloody freezing, why couldn’t you pick somewhere warmer?” her lower lip is seen jutting out, and though he has his fists clenched to his sides, her bare hands reach out for his, not minding the chill that settled against his skin. “okay, and that purpose was...?” she asks, a brow raised at him in curiosity, her fingers giving his fists a squeeze as if to urge him to continue.

[mmsunwoo-blog]

( * fangirl

[slychiara-blog]

proftaeyeon:

it’s not even noon, but taeyeon feels as if she’s dying of exhaustion already. had it not been for the class she promised hagrid she would fill in for, the girl would already be napping in her room and hopefully not waking up for a couple of years. caffeine certainly was not helping ( she’s already on her fourth cup ) and neither was the sharp pinches exerted on her wrists in attempt to keep her eyes open. so taeyeon turns to her last resort, opening the locked drawer on her desk.

cautious eyes glance around quickly before sliding the drawer open. a satisfied sigh passes her berry stained lips when her line of vision became full of her childhood and yes, current forever hero. taeyeon reaches out her fingers tentatively to his face only to pull them back sharply when she hears someone at the door. the professor slams the drawer full of her beloved newt scamander posters shut loudly, hoping it wasn’t too late. “uh, can i h-help you?” she curses herself mentally for acting so suspiciously flustered, fingers fidgeting as a grimace formed on her visage.

chiara doesn’t have a clue as to why she has to play messenger, but she’s found herself into a situation she unfortunately couldn’t get out of fast enough – they’re a school of magic, there were surely ways of passing on a message. and what’s surprising on her end is the fact she’s actually on her way to deliver. what is she getting out of going to see a professor she hasn’t spoken to, nor takes a class for? nothing. nothing at all. she’s had to ask around where the professor’s office was, quite literally pulling on the sleeves on students to do so, before she finally gets an answer from a hufflepuff, and with a quick “thank you!” thrown over her shoulder, she’s headed into the direction pointed out to her.

usually, chiara wouldn’t be one to run in the corridors, and she’s been reprimanded repeatedly for it by professors who caught her, but she had planned to do what was asked of her in a quick fashion, and leave. which seemed simple enough... if she hadn’t forgotten what it was she was meant to say by the time she finally reached a door in an unceremonious manner – and quite literally with a bang. shit. “uhhh,” she starts off, braced up against the door, in reply, hand rubbing at her shoulder. (ow.) “h-hi, professor? sorry to intrude, uh– someone told me to come tell you to tell you a thing.” smooth. real smooth.

[jiminhuff-blog]

a win, win situation.

[slychiara-blog]

jiminhuff:

A gust of wind sweeps through the nooks and crannies of the giant castle, screeching past window panes and circling around stone pillars. It carries with it an icy sting, flakes of snow twining in and out of its current. His frame sways against the blistering wind as his nerves grow, a bundle of energy that seems to slowly expand in his chest threatening to choke him. Falling against the arching support of a frigid stone pillar, Jimin exhales and his breath grows into a large white cloud before slowly fading before his eyes. Waiting for over an hour, leaves his hands bitter with the chill, a slight stinging sensation as he plays with his wand, turning it over and over in his hands. 

This morning in a brief bout of courage, he had taken quill to page in a small brown journal he had safely tucked away in his trunk. The message had been short, sweet, and scrawled in his messy writing on the parchment. Meet me in the small courtyard? He had been sure in his plans, movements, confidence. But now he was faltering, slowly finding himself wondering if he should have went about this entire adventure differently. 

Somewhere a clock begins to ring, counting up and announcing the hour in a loud and jarring explosion of sound through the castle. Jimin tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth, a clear sign of his thoughts and nature. He runs his hand over the pocket of his jacket, reassuring himself that the thin, delicate treasure is well hidden and protected. 

she falls, face first, onto her pillow, a long winded groan heard not long after as she settles into the comforts of her own bed, legs dangling off the edge. chiara had been dragged out for the morning to try on dresses for the upcoming ball on a certain roommate’s insistence, despite her own insistence that she wasn’t going. the slytherin wasn’t that interested in the whole idea of attending, and had planned on sleeping, but there were people who planned otherwise. hooray.

spotting a glow from underneath her pillow, she can only recognise that as a written message from jimin, to which she pulls out a leather bound journal, a black cover and the edges of her pages in a golden yellow. once opening, the pages redirect to the newest message, and as she reads it, she closes it abruptly with a groan, tucking it back into her pillow. she wondered why he didn’t use his phone, with the ban of electronic devices being lifted, but had no time to dwell.

chiara eventually pushes herself up, the click-clack of her boots heard along the flooring as she throws her long coat back on, before leaving the confines of her bedroom, through the common room and into the corridors. on arrival into the courtyard, once spotting him, the slytherin doesn’t expect him to look so... cold. a frown settles on her features as she strolls towards him, a “hey” being called out as a thick puff of smoke escapes her lips.

once she’s standing in front of him, her bare hand reaches up to brace his cheek, and the warmth of her palm sears against his much colder skin. “you idiot, how long have you been out here?!” dropping her hand to take her gloves off, she forces them into his hands, pulling her wand out after and with a small mutter, they increase slightly in size, just to fit him better. “put these on. now. are you trying to freeze to death, is that why you called me here?”

[ravenhan-blog1]

like fire & powder. // kc&yjh

[slychiara-blog]

ravenhan:

jeonghan impatiently tapped his quill on the wooden desk, although it didn’t feel the same as when he held a pen between his fingers. often he wondered why wizarding schools refused to adopt muggle practices that would make life much easier. quills were a lot of work, and jeonghan dreaded the idea of having to pluck these from an oblivious, innocent gryphon (or a magical creature of the similar sort). these were no ordinary feathers. his mind easily wandered to vast topics that did not involve the reason he dragged lovely chiara out into the transfiguration wing. oh, the wonders of laziness.

upon hearing her words, jeonghan’s head automatically craned to the direction of the girl, contents of her cup untouched. his eyebrows raised, skeptical. with the way she said it, jeonghan would have thought that she found out his ulterior motive for the tea. which, in this case, she definitely did. but jeonghan tried to act subtle, casually responded with a crack of a smile. “but, mon chou, it’s fucking oolong tea. no one puts milk and sugar in fucking oolong.”

with a casual hand, he pushed her cup closer to her, urging her. “just gulp it down in one go. come on. depechez vous. i’m a professional.” an elbow on the table, jeonghan cupped his cheek in his palm, eyes on the girl. he smiled widely, tried not to act any more suspicious than he probably was. the faster she cooperated, the faster jeonghan would do the same. then again, with this little game he could tell she was about to play, study time would be stalled for a little while longer.

“i can always brew you another cup,” he added. “white or rooibos?”

the look chiara spots on the boy opposite her seems rather unchanged in facade as he responds, an abrupt snort coming out of her as a result – unladylike, yes, but not a single fuck was given. unfortunately, she couldn’t laugh as loud as she wanted to, and resorts to calming down, an amused grin on her face. “then you can tell how fucking often i drink tea, innit? i’ve been in england for so bloody long, i’m only used to the thing in the bag.”

though only to appease him, does she lift the cup to her lips, intending on downing it all, but she can only get through a mouthful, her eyes starting to squint and her mouth scrunching up. “yeah, nah, i-- look, i’m not trying to diss your tea brewing skills, this is just not my kind of tea.” silence washes over them, teeth raking over her lower lip idly, and it isn’t until he offers to make another cup, does she speak. “whichever’s the good shit, i don’t mind.” 

reaching for her own journal of notes she’d placed to her side, reddish-brown in colour and untying it by its leather strap and pulling, a thin stack of parchment with her scribbles are seen tucked away in a pocket to the side, while pages much neater in appearance, with legible handwriting and neatly drawn diagrams in coloured ink, are bound to the middle, arranged accordingly by lesson on its respective date.

“maybe while you’re making tea, we can go over what it is you’re not understanding in that class of ours,” she says without much thought into her words, filing through her journal. while chiara did not seem like the type, she was rather particular about how she made her notes, whether it was her or anyone else looking at them. “is it the theory or the practical that troubles you?” 

[krisclaw]

* - celestial.

[slychiara-blog]

krisclaw:

the night sky illuminated with starlight is said to have been inspiration for the best of minds, and kris finds himself falling into the clutches of its spell far too often. when sleep just won’t come and phobetor claws at the backs of his eyes he seeks solace in nyx herself, choosing to blanket himself in her darkness and find safety between the cusps of her stars.

sneaking out has become easier as the years have gone by, or those who patrol the grounds at night have simply stopped caring about the idle and lost sheep like himself. winter cloak drawn close around his throat he steps out into the brisk midnight air of the courtyard and draws in a deep lungful of frigid air. his breath escapes his lips in a light plume of smoke and disappears into the darkness.

a twig snaps and his head whips around instinctively.

cautiously, and with hesitance interlaced into every pull of his muscles, he slips his fingers into his pocket to wrap around his wand. he takes a step back until he’s grazing the castle walls and holds a breath as it draws closer; if it’s a teacher, he can’t risk being seen outside after curfew. his legs are tense, ready to book it if needs be.

tonight is another night in which slumber does not meet chiara halfway. her body feels exhausted but her mind is on a different wavelength, thoughts racing relentlessly in her head, leaving her unable to close her eyes. and so, she’s making her way through the commons and out of the slytherin dungeons, navigating her way out of the castle as if it were second nature. 

gloved hands tighten the coat around her, the soft pitter-patter of her footsteps heard along the pavement as she leaves a corridor and enters a side of the courtyard – until she stops dead in her tracks, her shoe getting caught in a stray branch. she winces, beginning to look from left to right around if anyone had heard that, a quiet “shit!” escaping her lips in worry.

in a haste move, she’s racing into the nearest corridor, ducking into the shadows as she braces herself against the wall in the event someone – or anyone – would’ve seen her. she would watch and wait, until the coast seemed clear. well aware she was not meant to be outside the dormitories this late at night, she wasn’t intent on being caught by anyone on patrol duty. 

that is, until she finds herself backed up against something – no, someone – and she’s almost about to scream, drawing her wand out almost on instinct to cast a spell, but she’s too overwhelmed and only a bright yellow light flashes instead, much like lumos. having caught a glimpse of his face and how much taller he was, she blinks. she's seen him before.

not knowing if he was patrolling or one of the sleepless ones like her, the only way chiara knows how to deal with a situation like this is by threat. “make one move and i’ll hex you.”

[slychiara-blog]

slybrianna:

◖december 2, with @slychiara◗

when it comes to parties, people always remember to talk about the gryffindors–and how wouldn’t they? loud and friendly, always with too many butterbeers than necessary, to have a good time with the lions is something guaranteed. brianna would vouch for that, sure, but it would be a lie she’d prefer to hang out in the gryffindor tower than the slytherin dungeons on a celebration day such as this.

tonight, the room could be even considered cozy: all the students seemed to be out in the common room, discussing passes and players and already planning the next game and greeting the players with heavy pride. well, she missed that surely, but something she didn’t miss so much from her quidditch team days? the overflowing booze. it’s almost a tradition to push a mug of firewhiskey into the next player’s hands and by the look of said next player’s face, one more housemate might induce a star player into a coma.

“i’ll have this, jamie,” she takes the glass, only to put it away to wrap an arm around her roommate’s waist. “you okay there, chi?”

to say the least, chiara could tell herself a bloody well done and a pat on the back for the game played out there. despite the frustration she felt on the field for a sloppy game, and some of those teammates of hers who weren’t at their usual best, she couldn’t help but feel... glad. glad to claim a victory for her house of green and silver, and for the first game of the season. 

perhaps it was all that chugging of beer – butter or barley and hops, she doesn’t quite remember – down her throat, and all that screaming she did in celebration when getting off the field and having been through the ‘party’ in the infirmary and the party in the common room, she had sat rather quietly in that moment, the buzz having not quite worn off her just yet.

“huh? oh, yeah, i’m fine,” she replies to her roommate’s question in a slight slur, lips pulling up into a smile. “just thinking about the game, is all.” her head lolls back onto the couch, a giggle soon heard after. “i still can’t believe i managed to score a fucking goal. maybe all those pointers you gave me in the past might’ve helped, so. drink up, dearest bree. you deserve it.”

[gryffxadara-blog]

` sparkle ‘

[slychiara-blog]

gryffxadara:

the tips of her ears feel hot against the sides of her head as the embarrassment of being acknowledged washes over her. she really hadn’t planned for her comment to stem into an actual conversation but now her curiosity is more than piqued and it seems like the slytherin is very much willing to provide her with answers. “i’ve been pondering it.” she answers honestly albeit a little shyly. her answer comes as a surprise even to her own ears for it really isn’t something she has ever said out loud. “both my ears are pierced but i think they’re kind of boring? i was thinking of starting with just one ear first…”

chiara can only smile in response, shifting a little closer, knees pointed in her direction as she gives her attention to the gryffindor as she gets into the conversation that seemed to start between them. “curiosity is a good thing,” she begins. “that’s kind of what happened with me, and then... well...” her index points up at her ears, drawing a line in the air to gesture in between them, a small laugh coming out of her lips. “if you’d like another, maybe up here.” not wanting to get within adara’s personal bubble, chiara lifts her finger to point at her right ear with a second stud in her lobe. “basically like the piercings you have now, just shifted up and beside it. i was thinking of getting another one over the holidays. if you’d like, and you have time on your hands, you’re definitely free to join me? it’s cool if you can’t, of course.” 

[remusjohnslupin]

[slychiara-blog]

chi! i did it, i dyed my hair! does it look okay?

“unnie, what are you tal-- oH MY GOD!!!! is this for the ball? like... it’s more than just okay. YOU LOOK AMAZING!!!! SO PRETTY!!!! i’m shook. you’re amazing.”

[inc3ption-deactivated20190428]

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