—with @crluke

sydney jung is made of softer things. 

surely you must have heard. that what sets on her crown is a delicate circlet of baby’s breath and sweet pea. that wonderment fills her mind to the very brim. that it spoils at the slightest hint of cruel reality. that she has a mouthful of birds and naivety sewn into her skin. that she is frail, made of things that cows at the first sign of conflict.

that she is not made for crueler things. darker things. things that threaten to eat her whole.

this, in the face of the panic and paranoia that spreads throughout the castle like a bad case of dragon pox, ensures that sydney jung is sure to break. to fail. to rot. to shrivel up and die.

that is, being soft. being trusting. the very principles of her being.

fear, as it was—as it will continue to be—brings out the worst in people. 

paranoia, the real devil, the onslaught of what-ifs that floods her minds, gnaws at her insides and yanks at her hair—is what drives her out of the ravenclaw common room and into the vacant halls of hogwarts. is what fills her with regret, distrust, anxiety. 

sydney isn’t used to being distrusting. to be doubting of her peers, her very roommates. to walk the halls of hogwarts in trepidation, heart pounding in her ears.

home isn’t what it used to be, apparently.

the silence gets to her easily. every clatter or creak of a door has her muscles tense, breath caught in her throat. it is uncalled for to be this on edge, but what is she to do when she knows—nothing?

no, she knows something. she knows not to trust anyone. (wrong. who are you if you have no one to trust?) she knows to remain alert. (but does it matter? when you are weak? alone? defenseless?)

sydney jung without a single offensive bone in your body—what will you do?

her steps quicken. (it doesn’t matter where as long as it’s not here.)

WHAT WILL YOU DO?

her heart pounds. (will she die? why does it feel like she is already?)

WHAT WILL YOU DO?

her breath hitches. (why is it so hard to breathe? why does her head spin?)

WHAT CAN YOU DO?

she stops doe eyed at the foot of the staircase. (what is there to do now? should she run?)

“luke.” she speaks. breathless, guarded.

WHAT CAN YOU DO?

will you run? will you die?

“what are you doing here?”

@crluke replied to this for a starter.

     the damn chair’s legs are uneven. at least, it’s the conclusion he’s come to with the way it bounces back and forth as he moves in his seat, the leg leaning off the ground and coming back down when he shifts forward. it’s distracting and fuels the fact he can’t concentrate on his notes and hasn’t been able to the last half hour with how lopsided he’s feeling. great thing, too, when you’re supposed to be studying for your finals.

Her and Alice were set on seeing who could bake the best brownies as they both insisted each recipe was different and better than the other. It wasn’t often that Violet baked, after all she had everything done for her back at home but being the curious, hands on child she always was, brownies were the first recipe she decided to try by herself. Yet the friends couldn’t decide! Most people they asked to taste would agree they were pretty similar in taste and texture. Violet just needed one more person to say her brownies were the best to win the bet against Alice.

headcanon meme // ☕ ,⌚, ♿

 “does your muse prefer coffee or tea?”

siwon has never really been a fan of tea. he’s tried many different types of tea, but there was never really one that struck his tastebuds in a way that made him want to finish his cup. when it comes to coffee though, siwon is what many would call a fiend. he’s been drinking coffee since he was just a young boy and could sneak sips out of his mothers morning mugs. the smell, the taste, and the warmth bring him a comfort like no other, and like many “dads”...he’s not himself without his morning cup.

-

“is your muse good with keeping on schedule for meetings, appointments, or events, or are they always late? or, are they always a bit early?”

it depends on the day for him, really. when it comes to meetings and appointments, he prefers to be punctual and on time, but when it comes to events that don’t require a mandatory time of showing up, he prefers to be a little bit more lax!

- 

“has your muse had any injuries in the past?”

“boo.” rina pouts at her potential test subject, stirring the concoction in her pot with more attention than she pays during actual potions class. the potion should be gold as per the trademark appearance of the felix felicis. instead, it’s a murky purple. this just goes on to prove why potions is rina’s worst subject. but it doesn’t stop her from trying, as she sighs dramatically and points at something. “can you at least help me grind up the occamy shell then? i’m pretty sure that it goes in before the murtlap.”

I don't think popular is the right word...

“Bitter isn’t necessarily bad,” Damien replies as he glances down at the cauldron. He knows that some bitter ingredients are really good for your health, like ginger or grapefruits, so he’s not too worried at the warning the younger Hufflepuff just gave him.

As he takes a sip of the mixture though, he immediately starts questioning his life choices because that thing whatever it is, makes him grimace and it’s only by sheer strength of will that he manages to swallow his mouthful. He immediately puts his cup aside and reaches for a glass of water. He takes a large of gulp of that and then coughs a little.