Actually Extraordinarily True

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Some people really think that Ronmione is unrealistic...

Every time Harry was at Quidditch practice, learning shit with Dumbledore, learning shit with Snape, in detention, in the infirmary, held up by something to do with his fame, etc. Ron and Hermione were together. What do you think they were doing for 6 years in that time other than getting to know each other?

Hermione doesn’t seem to have any other friends besides the boys, and even though Ron could hang out with the boys from rest of the Gryffindor class of ‘98 (Seamus, Dean, Neville, etc.), whenever Harry resurfaces from where he’s been and seeks them out to tell them what he’s been up to, they’re almost always together waiting for him. y'all think they spent 6 years sitting in silence??

SY IS A CAT AU!

System AU, where there's a material user account with all information about the world and characters 💡

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I really want to like her so I’m excited

Am I going to grow to like Zara?

anyways. thinking about essence users who, after ranking up, lose that scar on their ribs they looked at fondly because it's a remnant of the time spent playing with their younger siblings. that facial quirk their spouse fell in love with disappearing to make them 'perfect'. not recognising themselves in the mirror because their skin hasn't been this smooth since they were a child. essence users who think that getting powers will help their chronic pain, only for it to be replaced by the mana pain. just. like. magic robbing the users of themselves.

Whenever somebody asks me what HP means to me and I start thinking about it my eyes start watering immediately every time, my heart beats faster, a smile automatically appears on my face. It’s like falling in love. I am in love with this saga. It’s my childhood. My light in the darkness. The thing I turn to when I’m feeling like shit. Harry Potter is my life. I love it so much.

Building Number Twenty-Seven

Summary:

Everyone was watching him, and it made him cry even harder. He was angry at himself. They were staring because he was crying. If he stopped crying, they would stop staring. He knew that. He wanted them to stop staring. But he couldn’t ever make his body do what it was supposed to. He tried his best to avoid getting snot on his shirt. He was pretty sure it was his only shirt, now. He didn’t want it to be all snotty.

This is the story of Clive’s first monster surge, when his family took shelter in the Geller Estate.