#shes 14

[hjonko]

shes my blorbi scrimble wimble stinky possum

[iplaywithstring]

My little cat in her giant bed. She keeps me company when I nap

[taoistyuri]

at a friends house and her sisters friend asked how old i am and i said 20 and she kept repeating flabberghasted liek youre 20?youre 20 liie she coulsnt believe it EVERYWHRRE I GO IM BULLIED THEY HATE ME CUZ MY AUTISM

[daddyjackfrost]

next time my cousin says “sussy baka” i am tying her to a stake and channeling the same energy towards women in the 1690’s

[bitchinthematrix]

my younger cousin, completely unprompted while Suzie Boreton was murdering people in the hospital: well someone’s throwing shapes

[saltchurch]

when it’s, like, 2005 and you’re, like, 14 years old

click for better quality

[chaelinsbitch]

I'm helping my cousin get into exo I feel a strange sense of accomplishment

[amateurpen]

Here’s the first thing I’ve made so far! It’s a scene for my hufflepuff!Hermione fic. In this scene, shes anonymously marketing the fountain pen to her housemates. Enjoy!

(also, how do you do the ‘continue reading’ thing that cuts off the post on moble? ive googled it a bit but ive had no luck)

“Whose mess is this, the Common Room is supposed to stay tidied.” A fifth year boy demanded it with a kind, but firm, tone. The second year boy he asked jumped slightly, not having heard the older boy approach him.

“Oh, uhm it’s a, muggle water-pen! Whoever left this, uh they left a note! Here!” The second year stammered out, practically shoving the slip of parchment to the much taller and pulled together child. The second year student was still visibly startled, with eyes seemingly as wide as any ocean and his breathing only just starting to calm. The older boy, whose answer was never answered, took the note and scanned it quickly, only interrupting himself to glance up from the note to the muggle pen.

“Uhhh, ok? I guess?” He muttered after he read it the first time, them read it a second time.

“Oh, stop with the throat noises Kirby,” a friend of his cut off his reading and rereading from her place at an armchair across the room with a sigh, her hand tugging absently at her own dark hair. “And tell the rest of us what it says.”

Kirby, the fifth year boy with the note, looked around the common room to see half the room staring back at him. His ears adopted a reddish look from slight embarrassment. Clearing his throat and fiddling with his black and yellow tie, he started to read:

“‘To those interested,

“‘This is a fountain pen. It writes like a quill, with half the issues and twice the efficiency. Instead of stopping to dip the point into the ink every other sentence, the ink is stored inside the pen, allowing for continuous writing. As the ink is inside the pen, there is also no fear of spilling an inkwell. The tip can be switched out on the pen to create thicker or thinner lines and the ink cartridge inside can be switched out once the original is empty.’”

Kirby took a pause and glanced up at the crowd, and the half filled common-room of people were staring back at him.

“‘This particular fountain pen, this note, and the scrap of parchment are all charmed to return to this table, allowing only eight feet of distance between these items and the table, for one week for anyone who pleases to try it. On saturday morning, the pen, note, and parchment will be replaced by a box and some order forms for any person who finds themselves with want for a pen such as this. This will not be offered to the other three houses. Think of it as a House-Exclusive Offer.

“‘Anxiously awaiting Saturday,

“‘The Mindful Badger’”

The bright common-room was filled with murmurs and glances all around. After a beat or two of contemplation, a third year girl reached out for the pen.

“Elizebeth, don’t touch that!” Another third year scolded, trying to take the pen from her hand. “It could be charmed to do something to you!”

Elizebeth dodged out of the way, her friend only momentarily grazing the flat tops of her baby blue nails.

“I am so tired of spilling ink on my essays and accidentally vanishing the ends of my sentences when I mean to vanish the spilled ink.” Elizebeth twirled the pen between her fingers, feeling the weight of it. “If this is everything the note says it is, I’ll never have to deal with an inked up essay again! I won’t have to look out for cats at all. Now..” With that all said, Elizebeth gripped the fountain pen and started scribbling on the parchment.

Hermione sat in the school kitchens behind the pear painting with a smile on her face, and a warm mug of festive peppermint tea in her hands. For some odd reason, she felt like celebrating.