#gry:peter

[naosark-blog]

i hate roses i'll bring you an orchid and my frank sinatra mixtape instead

fine you get the honor of removing an article and then i’ll do the rest myself

[naosark-blog]

let's get nakey

bring a rose then

[thesleepybeauty-blog1]

oh could u also maybe do it while smoking this weed thanks

owl | if we share it then i might agree

[thesleepybeauty-blog1]

can u just do me a favor and listen to yung god by russ thanks

owl | no i can’t. you know that i do not appreciate that muggle music 

[alo-yearbook]

is it possible to change the password to the gryffindor tower to "peter is a nerd"

[naosark-blog]

eat my ass

can i touch it too

[naosark-blog]

☂

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm

as a child of spring she had made precious memories in seething summers, freezing winters and the transitioning seasons where different holidays and traditions would influence her future reminiscences. it had been many (far too many) years since the last time she walked past the cherry blossoms, a delicate peachy forest whose beauty would move even the coldest heart. it was one of the few things worthwhile waiting for and yet the timing had always been off. it was rare of her to give such memories much thought since she was usually occupied by other obligations but the green fields surrounding them had almost compelled her to. dubious questions kept spawning.

then, too transfixed to notice the drop in temperature, a rambunctious crowd passed her, snapping her out of her enthrallment. a particular hard burst of wind passed right through her bones making her gasp in sudden discomfort. her arms crossed over each other in an attempt to preserve as much body heat as possible and a mental projection of the cozy common room crossed her mind as a small comfort. if she hurried she could dodge the bullet of a nasty cold. but something she could never escape was the endless surprises around every corner. literally. just as she had retrieved inside with her hands clinging around her form, a piece of cloth was thrown at (correction: handed to) her by a generous soul; peter! in all his marvelous glory he stood and watched her as she hurriedly added the extra layer in a rather wiggling manner (yes, she noticed his slightly raised brow). “thank you so much. you’re my hero,” she sighed gratefully. her cheeks were rosy from the earlier exposure. “i really thought i’d get— achoo!”

[alo-yearbook]

does anyone have any weed