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I still can't believe that i saw sirius black last night

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hypothetically let's say getting struck by the killing curse is similar to getting stuck by lightning

now with that we can say that hypothetically baby Harry Potter could lose part of his hearing from that so may I introduce deaf Harry Potter

from age one to six he can't hear at least 80% of what people are saying. He gets by. The Dursleys always yell at him and aggressively point at what he was supposed to do. After a while he generally understands what's going on by catching a few words from their yells and context clues. He got glasses but only because he kept missing the edges of doorways and earning bruises that raised teacher's eyebrows. They worried about them assuming they were abusing him (obviously not look he's wearing glasses 🤪) Harry taking speech therapy at school bc his parents don't like the way he talks

Seven year old Harry Potter getting kidnapped by an Azkaban escapee and a book keeper covered in scars. Sirius and Remus assuming Harry just didn't like them or trust them because well they did kidnap him. They thought for weeks that Harry was just giving them the cold shoulder. They only figured it out when Harry would stand real close to the speakers attached to the record player and bounce to the bass.

Seven (and a half) year old Harry Potter finally getting hearing aids with his two dads and flipping the fuck out when he hears them for the first time. Harry Potter running around and following Sirius and Remus throughout their daily habits to learn all the new sounds. Birds chirping in their front yard. Remus' laugh and Sirius' whispers of good morning.

Harry Potter pressing his ear against the side of the fridge to hear the hum coming from inside. Harry learning that the vacuum cleaner is a lot louder than he thought it was and ripping his hearing aids off the moment he sees Remus lugging it out from the closet. Harry learning school is way louder than he thought it was and having to take his hearing aids case with him to school in his pocket because he kept taking them off so much. Harry finding out that his parents cooking in the kitchen makes a lot of fascinating noises and accidently burning the palm of his hand on the oven because he wanted to hear the sizzling better. Harry almost giving Sirius a heart attack by the scream he let out from the burn. Harry realizing he makes noise too and what he thought was a silent way to make his chest buzz was actually humming.

Harry Potter and his two dads learning Sign together at a community class in the library. Harry finding more kids like him with hearing aids and some who don't talk at all and only sign. Harry finding all forms of families learning to sign and learning he's not so alone at all. Harry taking speech therapy until he's 12 so he can communicate with his hearing friends at the park too

Deaf Harry Potter wearing his hearing aids with pride as he prances into the great hall for the first time. McGonagall's stomach dropped, realizing she has a combination of James Potter and Sirius Black on her hands now and the next seven years of her career. Deaf Harry Potter teaching his friends curse words in sign and getting his parents called up to the school. Deaf Harry earned no punishment from his parents, both of them laughing their asses off. Ron learning Sign through private lessons with Harry after classes. Hermione scouring the library for books on sign language and learning through the pictures and Harry's corrections.

The Gryffindor quidditch team communicating with Sign in air. Harry over using the "I've heard enough." *takes off hearing aids* joke with the teachers he doesn't like he lands himself detention. Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus adjusting to Harry's flashing light alarm and making sure their curtains are tightly closed. Sirius and Remus used to flashing the light switch to get Harry's attention they start accidentally doing it in inappropriate places. Remus flashes the library lights to get his coworkers attention and causes a whole crowd of preschoolers visiting at reading hour to freak out.

In third year Harry trys contacts because he's tired of his hearing aids and glasses fighting for space on his ears. Harry at the end of third year realizing he hates contacts and goes back to glasses

Deaf Harry signing answers to his friends behind his back when the teacher isn't looking. Harry takes his hearing aids off at home bc he knows he doesn't need them but puts them back on as his dads start making dinner. He always finds comfort in the sounds of the kitchen and when dinner rolls around he keeps them on. He knows dinner is the most likely time he'll hear his parents' laughter.

I'll stop here but like I love him

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"empowering women by sending katy perry to space for 2 minutes" shut the fuck up. samantha cristoforetti was the first female commander of the international space station and she became an astronaut because of star trek. and there is a real chance she is a kirk/spock shipper

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Let's make Remus Irish so he can be Hozier.

Fucks hard

Respects women

Doesn't respect bullies

Friends with lesbians

Can make you cum with his voice

Forest Daddy

'You'll hear me howling outside your door'

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April 13, 1913 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973

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honestly, my favorite use of my psych degree is analyzing marauders fic. I mean, the way remus kind of copes with the horrors of war for years, but absolutely crashes and burns after the death of his friends is such a good representation of how a good social network is so important for adults. We always think about this need of being cared for when it comes to children and elders, but adults also benefit from it a great deal. There's really good essays that could be written about the topic

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Thank you, Hozier for writing such a nice mash-ed song for your supernatural youth, it was of great help for parents and teacher.

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The way I would’ve had the biggest crush on him if I knew him as a teenager-

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i'm going to listen to the album of the artist you like even though he's not really my vibe. i'm going to read the book you suggested even though it's not a genre i usually enjoy. i'll watch the show. i will try the recipe. i will play the video game, or at least watch a deep-dive youtube explaining the really-long lore so i have some idea of what's happening. the movie you suggested is too scary for me, but - i mean, the wikipedia page is kind of interesting - look at the length of the section Controversy.

this is not a burden. i think maybe "burden" and "love" might be oppositional, the way sometimes "love" and "hate" are not opposites. a burden is a dragging. i love you because you brought me to the water, and it is the horizon of your heart. i love you because of your nervous pacing around the edges of the rabbit hole.

often you are right. some songs on that album remind me of the spark in your eyes. the book was really thought-provoking.

more i just want to understand enough that you can talk to me. that you can explain, in depth, why it matters that wheat has shallow roots. i love you, even platonically - your love of this thing leaks into me. i watch you, cautious and dancing, the shy desire for you to smear the colors of this thing into my life, too.

they are your colors, though. of course i want them here, in the marginalia of my life. you matter to me. i want them to crowd the little moments of my day. i want your fingerprints scattered throughout the rooms of my heart.

one time i spent about six months reading and researching a particular author, just so i could talk to one of my friends about him. i never got the chance. she betrayed me, broke my trust, and sided with her abusive ex-boyfriend. standing in the sodden floodplain of what she left over, some bitter part of me asked - isn't that tragic? you have all this knowledge and nothing to do with it.

but i did have all that knowledge, though. when i reach for it, i still feel it glow.

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social media has got twenty year old women thinking they have to be a "clean girl" at university with a morning routine and face masks and expensive water bottles and a 9pm bedtime. I am begging the world to let young women go through a crucial developmental stage of being disgusting messy little rats. for feminism.

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This picture reminds me that it's okay to pay 400+ dollars for a hozier concert ticket

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My relationship with my best friend has basically the same dynamic as Hozier's Too Sweet, except neither of us has an actual health lifestyle. We will just stare at each other looking undead in our 8 AM class, after indulging in the same shitty habits and be like "Noooo :( wdym you slept only 2 hours, haven't eaten a single thing since yesterday's lunch and haven't drunk water at all today? ily you can't do that to yourself, girl! That's really bad for your health, this is not right!"

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Christmas with Carmy | Headcanons

Carmy Berzatto x reader

Masterlist

Just a few thoughts on spending Christmas with Carmy. He deserves a soft Christmas. Happy holidays everyone! 🎄☃️ Stay safe :)

What a Christmas with Carmy would look like:

You would try your hardest to get you and Carmy out of going to his family’s Christmas dinner. Without Mikey there, and after the infamous seven fishes fight you’d heard about, you knew the dinner would be hard on Carmy. 

If you had to go, you wouldn’t leave Carmy’s side for a second. You’d hold his fidgeting fingers or rest a hand on his bouncing leg, run your palm along his back. And you’d leave once the dinner was over, instead returning to your quiet and safe home.

Carmy might resist, but you would insist on hosting a holiday dinner for your close friends — inviting everyone from Syd to Richie to Ebraheim. It’d be a potluck dinner so you and Carmy (mostly Carmy) didn’t have to stress over providing all the food for everyone. The table would be cramped, but the food and company would be good. It’d be filled with laughter and reminiscing rather than fighting. You’d both create a new holiday tradition. It’d be yours, and it’d be safe. Happy.

You’d bake him and the staff holiday desserts. You’d ask him and Marcus for tips on adding more of this or that. Carmy would stand in the kitchen — you insisted he was necessary to the process for morale and quality assurance testing. But even if you didn’t insist, he’d spend hours leaning against the wall watching you float around the kitchen covered in flour. When it’d be too long without a break, he’d rest his hands on your hips and pull you in close. He’d press his lips to yours, kissing you until you’d stop him — usually to quickly check on the dessert.

Carmy would show you the best goddamn hot chocolate recipe you’ve ever tasted. But soon after, he feared he made a monster because you constantly asked him to make it for you — “it tastes better when you make it,” you’d plead. And who was he to deny you?

On cold nights, you’d happily use Carmy’s constant body heat to warm up. He seemed a little less happy about it, a sharp intake of breath at your cold hands pressed against his skin. But he wouldn’t complain too long because he’d be perfectly content having you against him all the time.

You'd make him get matching sweaters with you. He'd shake his head at it, but secretly, you knew he liked showing the world that you two were together.

You would go holiday shopping with Syd during her few free moments, trying to pick out just the right gifts for your loved ones. Part of your gift to Carmy would be something to help him relax — a spa or massage or day off — anything to help him unclench and realize that he didn’t have to be in fight or flight mode all the time. 

And the other part would test your crafting skills. You didn’t particularly care that your gift was cheesy, since you weren’t sure he’d ever gotten a homemade present before — something that showed you put in the work to show that you loved him. So you made him a scrapbook of the past year, one that was imperfect but meaningful. And the many nights you spent making it while he was working late became worth it when he opened it Christmas morning. It sat beneath a tiny tree you set up in your shared apartment, illuminated by the string lights you’d both hung up. As Carmy flipped through the scrapbook pages, his eyes roving over every inch of the photos and words you put on them, he smiled. He’d let out an occasional laugh, remembering different things that’d happened in the past year. 

“How’d you even get a picture of the knife in Richie’s ass?”

By the end, he let out a sort of a disbelieving sigh. As if he couldn’t understand that you would put the time and effort into something like this — all for him. But you’d hold him, press your lips to his. You’d try to tell him with each kiss that he was worth it, and he always would be.