#xrodolphuslestrangex

[schittscreekgifs]

hi there! i’m not stalking your blog ...but if i was and saw the instagram post for each character, could you share how you made them? i’ve seen them done before but have no idea how to make them look so good. ps. i am stalking your blog. 🙊

i used this template!

[tcdwrdtxnks]

✉ / ❤️ (astrid!)

✉ - a 2am text

I’m thinking about replacing Zach’s wand with a lightsaber. In part to see what happens, and also to just have a lightsaber in the house.

❤️ - an affectionate text

With everything that’s going on, I hope you’re doing well. There’s always room for you here if you need it. 

[regulus-blxck]

✮

“I thought Antonin was intense until I met Rodolphus, he’s borderline scary. We need people like him, though. Someone intimidating, someone with a good brain in their head. I hope I can be as intimidating as him some day.”

[brckenfirewhiskcy]

87. Do you keep a journal?

96. How did you get your name?

4. What is your zodiac sign?

87. Do you keep a journal?

That seems like a fuckin’ waste of time, if you ask me.

96. How did you get your name?

I’ve got no bleeding idea. The way I figured it, my loveless parents wanted a strong name - guess it worked out, what with the whole Alecto meaning ‘unceasing anger’ and all.

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Never really did pay attention to that shit, but if I remember right it was Scorpio.

[giarosmerta]

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

74. Are you ticklish?

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Oh, honey I’m sure - but that’s the whole point, right? It’s a secret. Most of the time.

74. Are you ticklish?

Incredibly so - care to figure out where?

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck, obviously. I’m not a monster.

[dxisy-hxxkum]

9. How tall are you?

20. Are you religious?

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

9. How tall are you?

“Somewhere around 5′5″! Pretty average, just like everything else about me.”

20. Are you religious?

“No, I don’t really believe in anything, but who am I to say whether or not I’m right or wrong?”

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

“I have, sort of! I know I would definitely like to name my children after my parents, though I think I would put them as middle names. Obviously I’m not settled on anything, it would have to be a discussion with whoever the father is.”

[oliver-adams]

black bird.

SEND ME “BLACK BIRD” FOR A DARKER MEMORY OF MY MUSE’S PAST. 

"No!" Oliver screamed at his father, trying to pull his arm free from his grasp. "You can't punish me because you got our gifts wrong! It's your fault you don't know us better! You're always at work!" It didn't matter what he said, he knew there was no getting out of it. They should have put the toys away before he got home. It was sad, really, that he was being punished because Ophelia wanted to trade gifts with him. Their birthday had just passed - Olivia's gift was perfect, but it seemed as though Ophelia and Oliver's gifts were switched. He had received a model train set, which he had no intentions of playing with, while she had gotten the new Barbie and Skipper dolls. He was incredibly jealous, and Ophelia was the one that liked trains, so they traded. It shouldn't have been a big deal, their parents should have known that they wouldn't like their gifts and it would end like this, but their father had a different view on that.

"Boys don't play with dolls." Edward spat as he dragged his son down the hallway. Oliver knew what his punishment would be - but that didn't mean he wouldn't fight it. He didn't deserve to be in trouble for playing with a couple pieces of plastic. "My only son and he's a fucking fairy." He grumbled as he opened the door to the closet.

"Girls aren't supposed to play with trains - why isn't Ophelia in trouble?" Oliver questioned, still fighting to get out of Edward's grasp. It was pointless - he was a big man and Oliver had always been rather small.

Edward shoved him in the closet, staring at him with daggers in his eyes. "Ophelia is a good girl. Perhaps when you learn how to behave you can play with whatever you want." The door slammed in his face and he heard it locking as his fathers heavy footsteps moved away. It didn't make sense - how did he misbehave? He didn't do anything wrong. But fighting with Edward was useless. Even if Oliver had good points he wouldn't listen, he would use his strength against him.

He wanted to scream, pound on the door and make a scene, but what was the point? Olivia and Ophelia knew better than to let him out, Edward would then hurt them. As much as Oliver hated being punished, he hated seeing them get punished even more. He would sit there and wait - the quieter he was the quicker he would be let out. Ironic, wasn't it? He was being punished for being a fairy, yet he had to come out of the closet each time his father stuffed him in there. That thought made him laugh, harder than he intended to, which drew attention to himself. Shit. Footsteps grew closer again, the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled and pulled from its loops before the door unlocked again. "You think this is funny, boy?" Came an angry voice. Oliver could handle being locked in a dark room, but the belt hurt. He regretted laughing. They should have put the toys away before Edward came home.

[rxmxslxpin]

black bird.

(I wasn’t entirely sure how to format this so I just wrote a lil drabble describing the night Remus was attacked. I’m not entirely sure what to tag as a TW but I didn’t go into a lot of detail. I just wanted to put a lil warning beforehand!)

SEND ME “BLACK BIRD” FOR A DARKER MEMORY OF MY MUSE’S PAST.

The pitter-patter of rain against his window was calming, so calming that Remus was able to fall asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow. Sleep came rather easily to most children, however he was not like most children. Mind was always racing with questions and curiosities, a thirst for knowledge that could never be satisfied. However on stormy nights it was easier to focus on the sound of the rain rather than the ever turning gears within his head. He hadn't been asleep long, though, before the storm had worsened and the sound of his window slamming open woke him up. Rubbing his eyes at he slipped out of his bed, young Remus draped his blanket over his shoulders as she shuffled across the room to close the window, remembering to lock it this time, taking a moment to stare up at the brilliant full moon before moving towards his bed again.

Falling asleep easily for a second time that night, it came as a shock to be woken up once again. This time, though, it was the sound of shattering glass and deep snarling that had gotten his attention. Sitting up straight, Remus found himself face-to-snout with some sort of horrifying creature standing over him. His mouth opened to scream for his father, but no noise escaped him. He was in shock - completely panicked by whatever it was that was in his room.

It happened in an instant, teeth ground into his shoulder while a heavy claw slashed him across his face. It was painful, the most painful thing that he had ever felt in his four years of life. It felt wrong, though - the bite left a burning sensation throughout his entire body, as though it had infected him with something. Finally a scream fell from him, loud and high-pitched, and only a second later Lyall had appeared in his doorway, shouting indistinguishable words at the creature. Remus' eyes closed tightly, hoping that this was only a nightmare, and they didn't open again until he felt his fathers hands on him and his familiar voice asking if he was alright. The creature was gone, but in his short visit he had done so much damage to the child. His hands reached up, rubbing at the tears streaming from his eyes, but as he pulled them away he realized he was covered in blood.

Rushed to the hospital by his father and hysterical muggle mother, the healers tended to his wounds quickly but unfortunately he was now stuck with an incurable infection. Lycanthropy - a difficult word for a four-year-old to get a grasp on, but again, Remus was no ordinary child. He didn't fully understand what it meant, and wouldn't until his first full moon, but he did know one thing: Lyall Lupin absolutely despised werewolves. He didn't know what would happen to him, how this would affect him, but he could feel his father looking at him differently than he ever had before, and honestly he was positive that was worse than whatever would happen to him.