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Colors of the Rainbow Meme

Send Red for an honesty post on what my muse dislikes/hates about yours.

Send Orange for a self-para/drabble about our muses.

Send Yellow for some headcanons about our muses.

Send Green for a moodboard on our muses.

Send Blue for an aesthetic of our muses.

Send Purple for a playlist of our muses.

Send Pink for an honesty post on what my muse likes/loves about yours.

Send Bronze for a list of plot ideas (i.e a wishlist) the mun would like to play out with our muses.

Send Silver for our muses to set up a Skype convo (or some sort of IM), talking as themselves, to each other.

Send Gold for a starter between our muses, unplotted, that the mun comes up with on the spot. Can be of any length.

Send Black for my muse to show their dark side, through whatever means the mun chooses.

Send White for my muse to show their light side, through whatever means the mun chooses.

Send Rainbow for me to come up with something unique for our muses.

#[ ask memes; ]

behindfairytales

Lady Kenna being an outdoor cutie pie (ii)

#[ taken by the sky ]

merflk

THE PROFESSORS: septima vector, arithmancy

#[ to the stars who listen; ]

doevns‌:

open starter .

it ’ s like some nightmare you can ‘ t wake up from . there is screaming , and shoving . people clumping at the doors as the fire grows . you had been happy , mere minutes ago . green eyes alight , everyone smiling , and you are too … how can you not , after three glasses of champagne ? you ‘ ve always been quite a lightweight . for a second , you can almost forget that there is a darkness enveloping this world . it ‘ s a delightfull evening , james is announced the highest bidder on the zonko ‘ s basket and he ‘ s all smiles , until he ‘ s not … the basket has caught on fire . so what ? probably a defectuous dungbomb … right ? you look around to find alice ‘ s face … you can ‘ t find her , nor mary … not marlene , or even remus , or sirius . the fire grows , and you don ‘ t even know where james is anymore . all you know is that you need to get out . “ james ? james ?! ” but people are pushing you , shoving you . the fire grows hotter , and you can barely see in the haze of the smoke . your head is light from the alchohol , you think . “ alice ? remus ?! “ you start coughing . smoke inhalation is something that doesn ‘ t cross your mind . you feel light , and you can ‘ t get out .

date: july 14th, 1979 location: zabini estate

Septima was on a whole new spectrum of drunk when the fire started. Her whole body felt light, as if it was made of anything but bones and blood --- it felt like everything was not corporal; not even her, not even the fire.

That one only grew stronger, brighter, redder. It seemed like it could destroy everything. She felt something --- no, someone --- also tumbling on their feet, looking all scared with fiery red hair and green eyes that screamed for help. She grabbed the other’s hand, not bothering with introductions. “We’re getting out of here”, she whispered hoping that statement could become true. “Please, be calm. We’re getting out”, she said again --- more to herself than to the redhead.

#c: lily #l: zabini estate #d: july 14th

alectxisms‌:

flowerais‌:

types of people

2am - city lights from a high rise, dusty book piles, tired eyes, writing stories, indie concerts, procrastination, denim jackets, classic movies, writing in a diary, impulse shopping, plants on the window ledge

5am - evening drives, dark circles under eyes, neon lights, vivid dreams, broken handwriting, 90s music, leather jackets, tousled hair, late night phone calls, silver necklaces, flannel around their waist

10am - soft blankets, lover of routine, acoustic songs, good grades, bullet journals, pastels and plants, sweet coffee, freshly baked bread, cat washi tape, cozy apartment, long winter coats over turtle neck jumpers, tote bags

1pm - yellow socks, doodles, doc martens, strawberries in the garden, sunflower daydreams, pictures of clouds and best friends, a handful of flowers, peach slices, paint smears on clothes

5pm - gold sunlight, peach ice tea, whispered secrets, swimming in the lake, roses on the wall, french pastries, learning foreign words, soft voices, bike rides and summer picnics, wax stamped envelopes

7pm - dreamy sunsets, evening laughter, cursive handwriting, glossy makeup, soft lighting, photo booths, cherry ice cream, sparkling ocean waves, vintage mirrors, sweet tangerines on a balcony, flowers in a bath

11pm - scented candles, unwanted nostalgia, existential questions, sadness without reason, sitting in the dark and watching the stars, associating songs with past lovers, soft heart, oversized jumpers

#[ came out of the woods by choice; ]

ameliathejust‌:

date: july 14th, 1979 location: zabini estate status: open

There was something jabbing Amelia in the side and she had to wonder if anyone else felt the room spinning like she did. “Go,” she commanded the person next to her who tried to put out the flames with a charm. Now wasn’t the time to explain the properties of fiendfyre, especially with her heart beating as loud as it was. She wanted to run; it was evident from the fear in her eyes. The memories of discovering her parents’ bodies and ruins of her childhood home surfaced leaving her little room to breathe. Control. She needed to find some semblance of order to ignore her panicked thoughts and to stop her memories from blurring the lines of reality. Despite the room being engulfed in flames, Amelia felt like she was a safe that was slowly filling up with water.

Amelia knew sooner or late she would have to face her fear. It was her duty to be strong for the people who couldn’t be; it was what her parents wanted. “Hurry up,” she waved her wand, clearing a path for the gala attendees. Smoke was everywhere, but Amelia poured her heart into the clearing the room. A part of herself faded into ashes the night she found her parents and she knew she would never be able to put it back together, because the wound would never go away.

When the fire started, Septima was too busy getting drunk --- and once she set her eyes on the oh-so-growing flames, it was difficult to stop them from dancing in front of her own eyes.

She was not being her smart self --- that was for sure; and how could she, with all that alcohol on her bloodstream?

She didn’t know if it was for its magical properties or because how many drinks she had had that night. Amelia Bones was telling her to go, but how could she move when the world was spinning too fast? “Amelia, I can’t”, she whispered. “I want to help you.”

They don’t call it liquid confidence for nothing.

#c: amelia #l: zabini estate #d: july 14th

aredhels

moodboard: ravenclaw

there’s a hole in my soul I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it there’s a hole in my soul can you fill it? can you fill it?

requested by @ameliathebedelia

#[ to the stars who listen; ]

bartycrxuch‌:

date: 14th july 1979 time: 8:00 pm location: zabini estate status: open

Barty was in much better spirits this time around than he usually was at one of these things. Still, he had stepped out for a moment and for once, the air was warm and pleasant rather than chilly. There were a few people milling around but the grounds were vast enough to accommodate them. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looked up at the clear sky, his eyes easily tracing the constellations. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around, blowing out the smoke before speaking, “Bid on anything?”

She knew who the man was long before he turned to talk to her. Bartemius Crouch Jr. was only two years older than her; they met at Hogwarts. Going on and off Ravenclaw’s common room --- and Crouch, even when he was nothing but a boy, had something rotten about himself that Septima could not quite put her finger on. “I’m a professor. There’s not much I can bid on”, she said. “Could you give me a cigarette?”, a smile appeared on her lips. She just had to have something on her hands to make the night more bearable.

#c: barty #d: july 14th #l: zabini estate

GREEK GODS & GODDESSES.

SEPTIMA GOT : HEPHAESTUS.

Hephaestus is the Greek god of blacksmiths, craftsmen, artisans, sculptors, metals, metallurgy, fire and volcanoes. As a smithing god, Hephaestus made all the weapons of the gods in Olympus. He served as the blacksmith of the gods, and was worshipped in the manufacturing and industrial centers of Greece, particularly Athens. He was strong, intelligent, and respected by many, but not all.

#[ came out of the woods by choice; ]

⁇ and $ -- for frank, ☎ and ø -- for bellatrix!

FOR FRANK:

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[3:15 am] hello mr frank lonsn g nbtii long beach

[3:15 am] damn

[3:15 am] ~ling sss

[3:15 am] longass ASS!! BOTOTMMMM!!

[10:00 am] sorry it was autocorrect

Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[12:00 am] no i mean. i don’t know. it is hard being in love with someone you can’t be in love with. you understand, don’t you?

[12:00 am] sometimes i just want to shout how much i love her

[12:15 am] OH. MY. GOD. FRANK I’M SO SORRY THAT WASN’T MEANT TO BE SENT TO YOU

[12:15 am] also i was talking about my mom, hehe

[12:15 am] you know me, no time for love, only teaching and numbers and books ;) hahah

FOR BELLA:

Send “☎” for a RUSHED text.

[10:30 am] i taught regulus today. he looked sad. please take care of him. he’s a good boy

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

[2:00 am] I probably should be asleep by now, but I can’t keep myself from thinking about what happened. You’re damn right. I am a mudblood.

#answered #ofbelltrix

#

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[2:00 pm] gilderoy lockhart

[2:00 pm] you should definetely come to one of my classes

[2:00 pm] i could do some analytics for your future. in the numbers

[2:00 pm] also my students would think i’m a really cool teacher that knows famous people

#answered #gilderoyal

⁇ # %

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[5:00 am] i’m so dnrku !!!!!!!!! yay

[5:00 am] alice wher r u?? ? ?? ?

[5:00 am] i ned smno to sng abba with!!!!!!!!

[5:10 am] crap am i w dncn keen?

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[3:00 pm] just passed by the shop

[3:00 pm] do you still sell those delicious strawberry ones?

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[10:00 pm] i don’t mean to be nosey or anything

[10:00 pm] please don’t get me wrong

[10:00 pm] but

[10:00 pm] are you and frank together? idk

#answered #afortescue

#

Send “#” for a RANDOM text.

[4:30 pm] for some reason today i saw regulus and it reminded me of you

[4:30 pm] you both have the same arrogant eyes and a smart mouth

[4:30 pm] thank god i wasn’t your teacher

#answered #dcgstar

✉

Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

[2:00 am] you know you’re not a good person

[2:01 am] but you’re hot either way

[2:01 am] still you terrify me

#answered #alectxisms

rpmememaker

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

#[ ask memes; ]

melancoliedesames

#[ taken by the sky; ]

quillskeeter‌:

date: july 14th, 1979 time: 5:49 PM location: zabini estate status: open

delicate fingers circle back and forth on her champagne glass, a disinterested gaze gracing emerald eyes. she had never expected a gala to be such a bore – especially not one she is supposed to write a gossip column about. rita is so desperate she is considering causing a drama – if anyone can do it, it is rita skeeter. the blonde looks down at her golden gown making its way to the floor, eyes focusing on her sandals – eyes sparkling with a bright idea. at the first sign of incoming, rita sticks her foot out slowly. within a few seconds, the disaster has taken place. her victim has fallen on the floor and dropped champagne on everyone nearby – including one of the vases on auction that night. clearing her throat, rita makes her best concerned face as she leans forward to help the other. “oh merlin, are you alright?”

Septima was not a clumsy person. Never was, never would be. She always calculated her steps, thinking before moving and analyzing each part of the way so she could gracefully move around --- not touching anyone, not being close enough to be awkward.

It was a surprise when she fell to the floor; her champagne spilling everywhere near her and on top of her black satin dress. “Oh, dammit, I spilled it even on the auction vases”, she cursed and let herself be helped by no one other than Rita Skeeter. The bad reputation personified. “Thank you for helping me, Skeeter.”

#c: rita #legatum:gala #d: july 14th #l: zabini estate

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