Jan. 6th, 2017

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How did you like it? And yes, Queenie. He wouldn’t suspect shit from Queenie. I am of the firm headcanon that Tina and Queenie mostly keep her natural gift of legilimency secret because you fucking know there would be people who would want to use her for it. She passes by Grindelstank who is in disguise but Queenie knows, Queenie knows who the fuck he is and now.

Now she knows where Newt, Theseus, and the real Graves are. Hell, she probably didn’t even have to use her legilimency. 

She recognizes Newt’s case. 
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@hamelin-born I think sroloc-elbisivni has come up with the perfect answer! Thank you so much!
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HAHAHAHAHAHA, TAKE THAT, GRINDELSTANK!

On another note, how much do you want to bet that when he had them captive, Grindelwald would punish the Scamander twins by separating them if one of them “acted out?” Like, “I’m being generous and indulgent letting you two stay together, but if you’re going to act like this….”
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This, this exactly. He looks at them and he sees Ariana and Albus, as everything should have been, maybe as everything would have been if Ariana had never been attacked. (He doesn’t see a single thing of Grindelwald in them, in fact, he flat refuses to see anything of Grindelwald in them and he will never let that fucker lay hands on them…)

How much do you want to bet that it was Aberforth who was taking care of Albus during his pregnancy, even though the wounds from that summer were still so fresh? I can imagine that Albus maybe tried to hide it at first; he’d already done so much to hurt his family and besides, Aberforth had made it clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with Albus anymore (his nose still aches a bit at times), it will be fine, it’s only nine months, he can handle this on his own (he can’t handle this on his own). 

After three months or so of no contact, Aberforth finally dregs up enough worry to go check on Albus where he has wandered off to (for some reason, I’m imagining a small flat somewhere in Scotland, obviously in a Wizarding area) and when he sees the state that Albus is in when he finally manages to track him down, well….needless to say, Aberforth hits the roof and it’s all he can do to keep himself from finding that bloody German bastard and throttle the life out of him. The only thing stopping him is that Albus, Albus has obviously not been taking care of himself like he should be and so it is up to Aberforth once again to take care of one of his siblings. And to make sure that German fucker stays blissfully unaware of what he has done….
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imindhowwelayinjune:

@snartha appeared on our skype call tonight wearing a wooly grey hood thing and within 3 minutes we’d invented a new OC.

She had been an early prototype.

An unnecessary one, Sauron admitted to himself later, but he’d always been a stickler for perfection and couldn’t bear to set his Great Plan into motion without having done a dry run first. Experimentation was important, he was a scientist, he was an artist, he was a performer –

It made sense to have a dress rehearsal.

She had been no one of importance – a woman of mean birth from the nameless hills, with little power and less an ambition. Her anonymity had been an important control, he had thought at first, though he did realize this made her hardly representative of what was to come. Still, the important factors manifest despite this in the years after Old Nan had curiously slid that ring onto her bony finger.

The long life, for one.

The magnification of her most potent personality traits for another.

(The fact that these were good-naturedness, an almost pathological worry about others catching cold, and a zeal for crochet had made Sauron frown a little at this perversion of his gifts, but still. One couldn’t be choosy with a prototype.)

When she had died at last, or hadn’t, her spirit was fully under his thrall, and he rejoiced, for it meant his plan was to work, and the Nine – gleaming in their leaden honeycomb deep within his forge – would do what he had dreamed of:

Provide him with an army of wraiths; potent slaves; undying, biddable, powerful beings.

The fact that Old Nan hung around was annoying, but unavoidable. She drifted around in her old cowl with the herringbone pattern, embarrassing Khamul by draping a muffler around his neck and chiding the Witch King for going out to pillage the Shire with ‘nary a mitten, for shame!’

The Nine, to Sauron’s surprise, not only tolerated but venerated her, which gave him some pause, even jealousy. Surely he should be the only one his Ringwraiths venerated - but then, respect for one’s forebears was ground deep into the bones of these Wraiths Who Had Been Men, and as such he did not forbid their deference to the Wraith Who Had Been A Grandmother.

Besides, he didn’t know what he’d do without her tri-color, heel stitch, fingerless gloves.  

@greenekangaroo  @urloth
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I bet Grindelwald treats them very much like he treated Credence - almost casual contact, violating every single inch of their personal space, making it up close and personal - so they can’t, literally can’t avoid him. Almost condescending, heavy-handed touches - and after Theseus tries to bite his fingers off/Newt flinches back with a pitiful cry one too many times, I bet he locks the twin in question in a full body-bind so they can’t escape.

Both twins probably want to scrub their skin off after every interaction. They hug each other fiercely, and hug Graves fiercely, and - that helps.

Mama and Papa Scamander are indeed freaking the fuck out. Their babies have been captured by a Dark Lord - their babies defied said Dark Lord, and Grindelwald has a tract record of not taking defiance well. Mama and Papa Scamander have been taken into protective custody, and the worst part is, they don’t know the whole story. They have no idea of the relationship the twins have with the Dumbledores - Albus probably simply approached them years ago, telling them about a pair of orphaned newborns who needed a good home, could you…?
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I bet Grindelwald treats them very much like he treated Credence - almost casual contact, violating every single inch of their personal space, making it up close and personal - so they can’t, literally can’t avoid him. Almost condescending, heavy-handed touches - and after Theseus tries to bite his fingers off/Newt flinches back with a pitiful cry one too many times, I bet he locks the twin in question in a full body-bind so they can’t escape.

Both twins probably want to scrub their skin off after every interaction. They hug each other fiercely, and hug Graves fiercely, and - that helps.

Mama and Papa Scamander are indeed freaking the fuck out. Their babies have been captured by a Dark Lord - their babies defied said Dark Lord, and Grindelwald has a tract record of not taking defiance well. Mama and Papa Scamander have been taken into protective custody, and the worst part is, they don’t know the whole story. They have no idea of the relationship the twins have with the Dumbledores - Albus probably simply approached them years ago, telling them about a pair of orphaned newborns who needed a good home, could you…?
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punkleiaskywalker:

stevonnie-against-mdlb:

dorcasmeadoews:

accio-shitpost:

the fact that your patronus can be a person is really creepy to me

like imagine ron seeing hermione cast a patronus and his freckly spectral face is grinning at him from across the room? i would freak the fuck out

I am just imagining some American transfer student goes go Hogwarts, does the charm, and out pops Obama. Just full out President Obama.

Reblog if your patronus is President Obama.

“thanks obama” i say as i high five my patronus after he protects me from dementors
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darkandstormyslash:

fireandlifeincarnate:

look…………….. write as much shitty fic as you want. nobody can stop you. you’re learning constantly and it’s better to write hackneyed implausible ridiculousness than it is to not write at all out of fear of fucking up. you’re good

There was an experiment a professor did. I think it was pottery students. He did an experiment of “quality” vs “quantity”. One half of the class he told; you have to make as many pots as possible. Good pots, bad pots, shitty pots, whatever. The more pots you make, the higher your grade.

The other half of the class were told, “you can make only one pot”. But that pot had to be perfect. The quality had to be high; the highest quality pot would get the best mark.

But when it came to the grading, they noticed something weird.

All the best quality pots were in the ‘quantity’ group.

The guys who were literally churning out pots, trying to make as many as possible, not concentrating on the quality. But every pot they made, made them better at making pots. By the end of the month (I think it was a month) - they had some pretty awesome pots coming out, because they enjoying finding all the ways and all the things they could do to make all their pots. Where as the ‘quality’ guys had spent their time reading up on pots, and technique, and researching and planning; which was all great but they’d had no further practice at actually making pots.

The best way to get really good at something, the only way to be really good at something, is to make lots of shitty attempts at that thing several of which will fail. If all you create are perfect things then you won’t improve, because how can you improve on perfect?

tl:dr MAKE YOUR SHITTY POTS.
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anghraine:

So if, theoretically, I were writing the Death Star AU, the first chapter would look something like this.

fandom: Star Wars

characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, Bodhi Rook; later, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo; Jyn/Cassian

length: 4900 words (this chapter; God knows what it’ll be eventually)

stuff that happens: Jyn, Cassian, and Bodhi survive, only to face the worst bonus mission ever.

“Jyn, we have to leave now,” Bodhi was shouting.

She wasted no more time, just climbed over the railing, ignoring the twinges in her leg. They were about to be worse, but she could see Cassian near-collapsed over Bodhi. She’d live. Hopefully.

Jyn jumped.

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