Three Goblin Art

Kiana Khansmith
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

★

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noise dept.
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Jules of Nature
d e v o n
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
AnasAbdin
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

shark vs the universe
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@missesmereldanott

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Right, well, that was fun. Later, mate. Try not to kill anybody when I'm gone.
Oh no- I would never in a thousand lifetimes offend your body or it’s fluids, Miss. Nott. I do not think it needs saying for you to know that every single inch of you is… well… [Smiles and shrugs guiltily] it is far from pure… but Merlin, is it indescribably perfect and delicious…
[Frowns slightly, knowing she is completely right in her accusations but still knowing that he had a good reason for doing what he did] I believe I can agree to the not lying bit in the future. However, I am afraid I will never feel bad about invading your privacy in this particular manner the way I did. I like to believe that we will never face a situation quite as serious as this was again, and I hope you realize- and I believe you do- that I did it for your own protection as well as my own piece of mind. I would never choose to lie to you in order to protect my own skin, I assure you of that. But to protect you… that is what I was aiming for with what I did. Nothing more.
That is true. She could very easily switch teams and out myself or others at the Prophet for various rumors or actual trysts- and yet I like to believe she adores us all far too much to do so. [Shakes head at her, pulling at her hands as she laughs] Yes- laugh all you want right now. But if that were to happen… and it would not be the first time, I assure you- it is a very frustrating route and I guarantee you would be sucked in somehow as well… so keep laughing [Grins].
Excuse you, I have the purest of hearts I shall have you know, mine coarsest of knaves. [Laughs, the laughter just a little bit shocked but mostly delighted.] Really now? I hadn’t noticed. Now that you mention it, though, I do feel decidedly...hm, delicious. Care for a taste test? [Winks jokingly because she is a ridiculous human being.]
[Closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, counting backwards from ten because Witch Weekly says it will make her less likely to throttle people, and then continuing in a reasonably calm tone that lasts all the way until the middle of her tirade before it gets furious again.] Listen, pal, there are ways around it, okay. You could have asked me. Or, hell, told me even. Nobody told you I wouldn’t have agreed with you. I might have. Who knows? Maybe I would have decided that yes, everything does suck and it is risky so maybe having a professional around to keep an extra eye on things can be good. But you know what sucks? You didn’t even give me the bloody fucking choice, arsehole. Do you have any measure of idea how frankly terrifying it is when you have been snooping around a hybrid, mutant motherflipping underground cult and some burly bloke keeps following you around? At all? Ugh, you’re such a bloody arsehole. Lying is still lying, no matter why you do it. Not cool.
[Lies], I tell you. All lies. She doesn’t adore anyone on the team one bit; just her own extremely huge, very manly penis. And Alice Longbottom’s hair because it’s choppy and cute. It’s so obvious, Ben. [Pokes his chest, grinning smugly.] Ah, but you forget that I am a well fit young girl and will bat my lashes at the judge and get off free while they toss you in prison for work place harassment. And you know what happens in prisons, darling. [Wiggles her brows suggestively.]
money, power and glory
[timestamp: September 1st, 2017.]
"Don’t you know it’s rude to hide under other people’s seats?"
When Esmerelda returned from her trip to the bathroom (and to peek into her brother and the cool fifth years’ compartment), there was a dark blob huddled under her seat. Her mum had told her about boggarts before which meant that dark blobs under train seats were bad news - obviously - so naturally, she kicked it and was genuinely surprised to see that it was a boy instead.
A shaggy nest of dark hair emerged, followed by black school regulation robes a tad too big for the boy wearing them. The expression on his thin face was so forlorn – even under the furious glare that must be for the kick, oops – that her indignation immediately gave way to curiosity and she almost didn’t recognize him for a second. “Well come out then, won’t you?” she demanded cheerfully. “I’m sorry for kicking you, thought you might be something dangerous or a boggart or something. You can sit on top of a seat instead of under it though; there’s plenty of room here.”
The awkward shuffle as the boy got out, however, and the way he refused to really meet her gaze triggered a memory from just a few months ago and she let out a tiny squeal before she could help herself. “Oh, you’re Pansy’s boy, aren’t you? The one with the awful sisters who doesn’t really like my cousin Scorpius?” she said, talking a mile a minute now that she was excited and barely waiting for the Parkinson boy’s nod before continuing. “Oh, it’s okay, I’m not really quite fond of him either, to tell you the truth. I like his Mum well enough, of course; she’s my Aunt Astoria and she brought me the nicest sweets last time she went on holiday. But Scorpius, ugh, he’s such a bloody brat.” She punctuated her description of her cousin with an eye-roll clearly highlighting her distaste, ironically completely missing the fact that she was no less of one herself as she spoke with the smug self-assurance of a miniature queen who owned at least half the world.
Esme might have been exaggerating a little, because Scorpius wasn’t that bad; just a little bit of a berk. That was no reason to spend all afternoon talking about him, however, and certainly not when she had the chance to make a proper friend before she even got to Hogwarts. In her eyes, bribery was also a perfectly acceptable form of gaining approval so as she asked him curiously why he had been hiding under her seat, she also dug around inside her engraved trunk to find the charmed box hidden somewhere in the neatly folded and organized robes.
The boy’s explanation appalled her. Now that they were on the train and technically able to use magic, his sisters had been trying to dangle him upside down by the foot somewhere near he ceiling of the train and taking him around the train like that. His sisters. Esme herself had only one sibling, but even when her brother was a complete toerag, he never tried to intentionally scare or hurt her. Siblings were mostly just to tease and embarrass you, weren’t they?
“That is disgusting and not at all what sisters are supposed to be like,” she declared, nodding emphatically. “What’s your name, love?”
“Sebastian Xavier Parkinson.”
Ugh. The name even sounded like her mum’s stuffy, awful friends who wore too much perfume and had dress robes of garishly embellished fabrics. She made the decision for the boy, not even bothering to ask him or to care about how forceful and obnoxious she might be coming across as. “We can call you Bastian, right? Sebastian’s a stupid, old man name and Seb is what the icky kinds of mums call their sons. Speaking of icky, are you very fond of your sisters? Because I did the best thing the other day. You know how your mum had that party last Christmas, right? Well, a bunch of kids were playing Hide and Seek and you might have been a part of it, but I don’t know. Anyway, I wandered off looking for a good hiding place, right, and then next thing I knew, I was in your sisters’ room. And right there, on the mantel, there was this big box of sweets. Now I don’t know if your sisters are old enough to go yet, but my brother Adam was in Hogsmeade right before Christmas hols and he gave me this giant box from the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shop there for Christmas. So of course I put some Puking Pastilles and Canary Creams in there. Next thing I know, your mother is over at our house the next day, yelling at mum about oh, Daphne, just look what your horrible little child did to my poor girl, blah blah blah. But you won’t believe what my mum did, basically. I was listening outside the door, right, and she went all nice but not nice nice, more like the creepy sort of nice voice she uses when she’s very annoyed with someone. So then she was all, “Don’t you worry, Pansy, I’ll take care of it right away,” and then she called me in and when I went, she bloody winked at me and guess what? Handed me this awesome box of chocolate cauldrons with caramel fillings and told me that’s the sort of sweets I should be gifting others, not joke ones. That’s it! Your mum’s face, hah.”
Perhaps a little too belatedly, she realized that perhaps sort-of bitching about the boy’s family might not have been the fastest way to his heart. The hesitant laughter in his expression made it mostly okay, though, so she thought it was mostly safe when she offered the box she had dug out earlier and said, “Speaking of, I still have a load of them left and you look frightfully thin. Would you like some?”
Later that evening, as she stood grouped with the other terrified first years in the Great Hall, watching a mouldy old hat sort her peers into their houses, a wave of apprehension took over her. She knew that no house was bad, per se, and they all had their virtues but if she got stuck with twats, she was ripping the hat up, no questions asked.
By the time she was called up, the hat had sorted a pretty brunette and a tall, skinny boy sorted into Ravenclaw, a couple of shy-looking girls into Hufflepuff, a pair of blonde girls who would undoubtedly be complete swots and her cousin Scorpius into Slytherin and had no Gryffindors at all. That would probably change pretty soon if the congregation of kids who were obviously Weasley’s – the small army and handful of redheads gave them away – had anything to do with it. Personally, Esmerelda knew her parents would approve most of Slytherin and, if not that, nothing except Ravenclaw would work as a possible alternate choice. Roommate choices considered, on the other hand, she would have rather swam with the Giant Squid than to room with either the shy ones, the swots or the pretty slags.
The hat still ultimately chose to put her in the hellhole of blonde princesses (including Scorpius). The boy came after her and got sorted into Slytherin too, as did the cute and confused-looking little Potter boy so she figured it would be okay. They came from a world of money, power and glory (and maybe even sex, though she couldn’t speak from experience, being eleven and all) and had been sorted into the house that was supposed to rightfully belong to people like them. Not just the dark witches and wizards, but the ones who had the values Salazar Slytherin stood for: cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition. Nobody ‘dark’ got where they wanted without ambition, after all. But above all, Slytherin meant they always saved their own skin and that of those closest to them; loyalty almost as key as it was in Hufflepuff. And Esmerelda had a good feeling that the boy was going to become one of them. Which was why she held out a hand for a high five when he joined her at the table.

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Advisory || Parkinott
I have no idea what to think of it, and yes I want coffee. [He takes the letters back, fiddling with them nervously again like he can’t stop] I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, if it’s something I would be good at. It’s a bit nerve-wracking, to be honest. You may have noticed.
[Makes vague gestures at the boy behind the counter until he gets her order, then turns back to Bastian with a thoughtful expression.] Personally, I think it's a whatever-you-want-it-to-be thing? You did like the library itself; you probably lived half of your years at Hogwarts there. I might have passed Potions if you hadn't, come to think of it, actually.
Um. I mean, nobody's great at a job initially? You do have to learn quite a bit at work no matter what you do. The ghosts and portraits are, you know, good. A good thing. Case in point: the Baron hates everyone. Everyone. Not you, though, so. If you think you're up to it, it could be a great opportunity. But it depends on what you want.
Advisory || Parkinott
Morning, love. Yes, I’m fine. [He tries for a smile, but it comes off nervous and both of his hands close over the parchment again.] I’m- I’ve had an offer and I need your advice on what I should say. I’ve got to reply in a couple of days and I’m- [He stops, folding his hands and chewing at his lip and then handing her the parchment. By now it feels more like fabric than anything else.] Just read them both. Please.
Er, yeah, that might explain your little feathery stalker. Sure, though, give me a sec. [Reads through all the letters carefully, eyebrows rising higher and eyes growing wider every few seconds. When she's done reading each twice, she carefully folds them again and places them in the middle and clears her throat.] So this is, um. Interesting. 'S very interesting. Clearly, McG's planned this and knows what she's talking about. I think I need a coffee to process this. You want? And what do you think of it, by the way?
Advisory || Parkinott
[Waiting nervously with both of the letters - and the owl that has been stalking him - Bastian sits at the cafe near Esme’s flat. He’s folded and unfolded the letters so many times they’re more like fabric now. The moment he sees Esme, he folds the letter up again and immediately knocks something over.] Fuck. Shit. No. Hi, Esme.
[It's morning, she's going to go in to work late so she's dressed for that and she runs in a few minutes late, bag flying around and nearly hitting an old lady in the face because of course she overslept. She still laughs when she sees Bastian fumble and takes the seat opposite him with a cheerful grin.] Hello, darling. Awfully early to run into you here. Y'alright?
Taped to the bathroom mirror: I don't see you often enough and something serious has occurred. I have received a letter and I need advice IMMEDIATELY.
[Sees it way too late at night to be actually helpful.]
Breakfast tomorrow at 8 at that café near my flat? Come meet me.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Well then, I should stop discussing such matters then. My sincerest apologies [Laughs again]. Nonsense, Miss. Nott. Everything is pure that comes out. However, the same cannot be said about everything that goes in [Winks, then pauses] That might have come out wrong. Hmm [Frowns slightly, though he is still highly amused]
I do believe that falls under the ‘withholding information’ category more so than the lying category. Were you to ask, during that time, ‘do you have anybody keeping tabs on my because you are worried about me,’ I might have needed to admit it. However, instead I simply… did not tell you I was going against what I told you I would do.
Quite embarrassed, although extra money for no apparent reason would probably make her rather happy. I might have to regardless if we continue this discussion, actually, if only for the fact that I am more likely to accidentally call her by a male pronoun during our next encounter the longer it goes.
You should, yes, there's a good lad.[Winks.] Uh huh. Right. [Deadpans.] So is that you calling your own cooked food impure or my tongue and other relevant body fluids? Because I tell you right now, my body is prepared to be offended immediately.
Yeah, nope. For one, might have makes for a pretty poor case. Moreover, technically, if you meddle first and then simply neglect to mention it, that counts as withholding information. However, if you explicitly promise you will keep your nose out of something and then fail to do so knowingly, it's lying. [Pauses, considering, then shakes her head.] Anyway, I'm the last person who has a leg to stand on when it comes to meddling, but it quite sucks that you chose to lie about laying off. And the whole invasion of privacy thing wasn't so great either, but I guess since it came from concern, just…don't do the whole lying bit again and we'll call it even.
Or suspicious! She's a gossip reporter; you never know what sort they could be. [Snorts embarrassingly loudly and then claps a hand over her mouth, laughing.] Oh, what I would give to see you slapped with a harrassment law suit for gender something-ing her.