Color Me Curious
oozey mess
@theartofmadeline
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RMH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo
Product Placement
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
if i look back, i am lost
untitled
Fai_Ryy
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
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EXPECTATIONS
d e v o n
Monterey Bay Aquarium
The Stonewall Inn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
seen from Austria
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
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@yaboijames-blog
Oh. Oh, hey. What’s that above your head? It *kind of* looks like... mistletoe. You’ve been caught with none other than Sirius Black. Please contact your partner in the next 24 hours to set up a thread, lest you risk the whole castle gathering around to watch lock lips.
“I never thought the castle could be this silent. Is freaking me out.”
“I’ve been avoiding it, honestly. I’ve hardly left the dorms.”
“Although Remus has been playing therapist with me, so I might have to escape him soon.”
“God help me, it’s too cold.”
“Personally, I love the cold.”
“One, it means Christmas is like, right around the corner. And two, it’s perfect Quidditch weather.”
“Nope, I’m done, I officially give up on this.”
“Okay, no, I don’t mean that. Let’s try one more time.”
“So what you’re saying is you officially give up on trying to stop me from kissing you? ‘Cause I’m down for that.”
“....yeah, still not feeling History of Magic, Evans.”
“That door was closed for a reason. Please, kindly fuck off and away.”
“You’re not missing your wand, are you? ‘Cause I think it might be up your ass.”
Taking a walk was the only remedy Kingsley could think for his worried state of mind. The dinner had been all good fun and if everything had turned out right, he would have won, but there was no sense of victory when a life was lost. Pomona was funny and goofy and so full of life that the image of her dead body lying twisted on the ground was seared into his brain. Two nights had passed and suddenly Kingsley was rethinking everything. The job that he had wanted so badly in life would involve death and while he had planned on this, it was different when the person wasn’t a stranger but someone who he knew. That was a tough pill to swallow.
So was the fact that it was his housemates were the ones accused. No one said anything out loud, at least not to his face, but the looks and stares said it all. Slytherin was responsible. Slytherin had Death Eaters. Slytherin had killed Pomona. That was how this walk came to be. The Professors and prefects couldn’t keep them locked up forever and Kingsley needed to clear his head before he exploded. He hadn’t expected to see someone else with the same plan as him, though now that he thought about, maybe he should have. It felt like the entire student body had experienced this and maybe, they needed each other to begin healing. “You sneak out too?,” he spoke softly, trying to grab the other person’s attention, though they were hidden by the shadows of night. “It’s just me. Don’t worry.”
The Dark Mark still lingered over their heads. Over all of Hogwart’s heads - and that fact alone made James’ body shake with anger. With fear, too, but he would never admit that. The place James Potter had known as the safest place in the world, as the happiest place in the world, now lie in a ruin of mistrust. And while no names had been officially damned, James had a deep suspicion of Slytherin - as did the entire student body.
And yet, James was finding it hard to see anyone in the same light as before.
The voice startled him. There was a reason he stayed concealed, wand drawn and guard high - Lily and Remus had him out looking for any wandering First or Second years, but instead, the only warm body he’d found was Shacklebolt. Not that James would ever suspect someone as warm and incredibly puppy-like as Kingsley, but now, James would question even Sirius.
“I am worried. You did see the Dark Mark, right?”
“People actually have the nerve to assume that all I care about is the gossip right now. A person just died, have a little respect. I’m not a heartless bitch…”
“Well, Rita - you can write this in tomorrow’s blog post: Hogwarts isn’t safe anymore. That one of our own have turned against us. I guess that house really is full of snakes.”
“Basically it could be anyone, but I’m pretty convinced it’s the butler. Or Viola. Or both.” She shrugs slightly, taking a drink from the glass in her hand. “Hard to say, but here’s hoping I do – otherwise I’m stuck following Sirius’ whims for a day. Think you have an idea who it is, notes a mess or not?”
“You know, I initially had it pinned on the butler. He’s the obvious choice - it’s always the butler.” James says, nonchalant as he too sipped his glass. “Although, admittedly, Sirius is my only hope for this whole dinner. He’ll probably figure it out in like, two seconds. Then he’ll doubt himself, throw the towel in, only to be right when it’s all said and done.” He raised his eyebrows in almost disbelief. “He’s like a puppy, cute but dumb.”
Peter made a face at James before continuing. “Aren’t you interested in catching the bad guy, Prongs? I would have figured this would have been right up your alley.” He snickered. “I’ll tell you what. Half of the Firewhisky I’ve got left has your name on it when we figure this out.”
“I love catching the bad guy - I’m just not sure I’m equipped for this kind of investigation. I can’t even get through an episode of Law & Order before Wiki-ing the episode to find out the killer.” James sighed. “But you make a good deal, Peter Pettigrew, you really do. Any leads? Any gut-wrenching hunches you need to tell me about?”
Prongs, please. I’m not watching a show about teenagers in highschool that like singing, it’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Besides, you don’t want me to lose that bet. I will have power over Evans for a day if I win, do you understand what that means? See the bigger picture, mate.
Oh, come on. Murder, mystery, tons of delicious food, the chance to wear costumes, Caradoc dancing…So much more to love than just not having homework.
On a scale of like, Disney Channel’s Wizards of Waverly place to ABC’s Boy Meets World, Glee is a solid Drake and Josh, and that’s straight fact. You have to be a lame, terrible dude to not like singing shows. And do not bring Lily Evans into this, I’ll fuck you up, Peanut Butter Padfoot.
Murder and mystery are just two things that don’t really get my engine runnin’, much less when they’re put together. I can't handle the suspense -- I can barely even watch an SVU episode without Googling the episode.
I really need to solve this because there is no way in hell I’m watching Glee.
I mean…Because it’s such a tragedy that the dearest countess is missing. Justice must be served.
Hey. Glee was an excellent show. It had the perfect amount of drama, hilarious bitchy comebacks from Santana, and tasteful musical numbers. I was hashtag Team Finn from the beginning, Sirius.
Justice, schmustice. I’m here ‘cause it means none of the Professors assigned any homework tonight.
“The question is, who actually had the time to kidnap the Countess in the middle of dinner? And what if she willingly went along with whoever the suspect is?”
“As cool as this dinner originally sounded, my brain is becoming mush with all these clues. Like, honestly, I’ve been trying to takes notes on my phone but I forgot what all my own shorthand meant, so...I’m just a mess.” He sighed, staring at a page of gibberish except for ‘Homeboy Bsworth’, ‘this is like Clue’, and ‘I blame the Ravenclaws’. “You think you’ll figure it out?”
srslypadfoot: Instead of the depressing drowning my sorrows away, I'll play a drinking game.
srslypadfood: Every time someone says the word murder, I take a shot.
srslypadfood: If I end up with alcohol poisoning, blame the fucking dinner.
prongsy: unless
prongsy: your drink was poisoned
prongsy: making it a murder (take a drink paddy)
prongsy: making it yet another murder mystery dinner
prongsy: YOU EITHER DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE YOURSELF BECOME THE VILLAIN
“Which is exactly what the professor WANTS us to think!” Peter said, snapping his fingers. “Wait… Unless he’s expecting us to come to the conclusion that because it usually is the butler, than we should expect it to not be the butler, which would mean that it actually IS the butler… Wait… Unless…”
“Pete -- please don’t hurt yourself. This is a paradox that could wuite literally go on for days. Personally, I’m leaving the actual solving of the case to the Ravenclaws - I’m just excited because it’s a extremely opportunistic time to get wasted.”
“Is it, though? Butlers tend to be stereotyped as ones to have the most motive to commit a crime, but in this particular case, how much would he actually gain? I have not even started reading the clues, and I can tell that the obvious main suspect is the Count. That is, if the Countess was very wealthy– otherwise it’s a whole other story.”
“How did I know it’d be you that would be almost too into this? So, if it was, as you say, a whole other story, who’s your second suspect? Or would you need more information to figure that out? Do you think you’ll have it figured out before it’s actually revealed in the show, Miss Meadowes?”
Um, yes. The frontier was quite literally lawless during that stretch of time. There were gunfights, like, every thirty seconds and every other person was prostitute or on a wanted poster.
And I don’t think I’m the right person to ask about your wild level, usually when you guys do something stupid I am as far away possible. Trying to cut down heart attacks or aneurysms, you know.
That’s nothing. Sounds like another Thirsty Thursday kegger at Gryffindor Common Room. You should really start coming to those.
Oh, but you’ve heard the legends. You’re aware of the Narcissa Cup, yes? I think, just by knowing our names, you know the level of wild. I mean, I was born in the west. West side. Wild West. I should invest in some cowboy boots.
“Don’t be a fool it’s not the butler.”
“You sound pretty sure of that. If it’s not the butler, then who do you think it is?”
