#conjurestarter

[eviesongs-blog]

The buckle on your bag is undone. 

[xavier-romani]

I want nothing more than to sleep and just not think about things.

[ftholland-blog]

Not even a gasp was able to leave from inbetween Holland's lips the moment an elbow made a harsh contact with her nose, the brunette swearing she could see tiny stars filling the darkness after squinting her eyes close in pain. The books that she was previously holding in her arms now on the floor because of her raising her dainty hands to cup her nose, a little hiss erupting from the back of her throat as she took a step back from the spot she was standing on.

[sclwvns]

Bright lights, the music gets faster Look, boy, don't check on your watch, not another glance I'm not leaving now, honey, not a chance Hot-shot, give me no problems Much later, baby, you'll be saying nevermind You know life is cruel, life is never kind

[lyraofc-blog]

I got this new hat. I kind of like it.

[colecoburn-blog]

"Oh, my god; did you see that girl fall?" Cole asked looking towards the direction of the tumble. "It was hilarious."

[xavierxromani]

"What? Never seen a guy with bed hair before? I know I look like shit, so please, stop staring before I stab your eyes out with a spoon."

[tobyxno-blog]

Despite the seemingly endless list of chores Toby had to complete -- as punishment for his crimes -- the day had passed in relative peace. The Gryffindor was getting stronger, and so the trophies had not required a substantial amount of elbow grease, nor had the entire Third Floor been too strenuous to mop. In fact, he hadn't even caused an incident in potions, despite being in the same room as Holland, so Tobias' day was passing in relative harmony, until of course, fate decided it was time to bite him on the butt. The end of his quiet day came in the form of a 6'2" half-giant, whose face appeared to be carved by angels and whose dishevelled curls wouldn't look out of place in Vogue. The illustrious Emerson Rosier -- former friend, now God-knows-what. And just like that, Toby's bubble was popped. For a moment, the Gryffindor just stood, staring. But he had to move, if not, he would do something awful, like hit him, or cry to him, and right now he didn't know what was worse. Brushing past with his mop and bucket Toby continued down the hall at a fast pace, resisting the urge to say anything. Anger raged within the boy, but his mind ordered him to suppress it -- this wasn't Emerson's fault; it was his own. But Toby's fists couldn't necessarily tell the difference.