#whybenormalwhenyoucouldbehappy

06: How do you want to die?

“Merlin, that’s dark,” Neville said, sitting back in his seat. As dark as it was, though, it was clear that this was something he had given a lot of thought, as he had an answer at the ready. 

“You know, I would love to say that I want to die in a rocking chair overlooking my garden with my spouse beside me, but even in wish fulfillment--” Could there be wish fulfillment about one’s own future death? That seemed even more morbid. “--that seems unrealistic. So I’ll say...” 

He let out a shuddering breath. “Fighting. I want to die fighting.” A painful pause. “And I don’t know if it’s a cowardly thing to say, but I want it to be quick.”

He was proud of his parents, but he didn’t want to be them.

07: What did you last eat?

It was such a mundane question that Neville had to laugh. “I--actually can’t remember? I think a sandwich for lunch or something. A lot of times, I just get so excited about the plants that I forget a meal or two.” He lifted his shoulders a little sheepishly. “But that’s the great thing about living in Diagon. Surrounded by shops and cafes and things, always a bite to eat when I remember I want one.”

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

“Uncertain? Is that an emotion?” Neville smoothed his hands over his thighs. “I just don’t know what the next few months are going to bring. I don’t know if I’m jumping at shadows or if I should really be worried.” His brow furrowed deeply. But there’s a knot in my gut, and it won’t go away, and I’ve learned to trust my gut.”

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

“Me?” This time, Neville’s laugh was incredulous. “Have you seen me?” He gestured to his general person, all overalls and dirt smudges. He wasn’t the kind of person who people got their hearts broken over. He wasn’t even sure he was the kind of person who made people’s hearts speed up.

“Uh, probably broke my gran’s heart when I decided to be a Herbologist,” he offered with another laugh. “’Plants? You want to work with plants? Your parents’ legacy, Neville--’“ he said, mimicking her in a moment of bravery. Then he glanced around nervously as if to ensure that she hadn’t heard. 

“Anyway. It’s...fine. It’s all fine.”

33: Do you have trust issues?

“Not so much with people. Like I said, those who matter the most have pretty much come through for me,” Neville said thoughtfully. “But with institutions? Yeah. I know I’m an adult now, but I hardly trust the ‘grown-up’ institutions more than I did when I was a teenager.” Air quotes and a grimace.

“I mean, I was brought up being told about all the people who would protect me, about how we were in a time of peace now because of people’s sacrifice--and it didn’t matter.” The frustration and bitterness was leaking out in his voice. “Everything went to shit, and it might just be going to shit again. So sure. I have issues with papers and governments and the world in general, if those count.”

37. Is it easier to forgive or forget?

answered!

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

“I wish I had something more exciting to say, but honestly, I gave a couple of the plants a water and a little leaf-check, then I made sure I locked the door.” Fairly standard stuff. 

Sleep.

Neville sleeps on his side with his arms stretched out, like he’s yearning for something. When he wakes, it’s never quite at his fingertips.

He wakes often in the night at the slightest sound, something he hasn’t outgrown even years after the war. He’ll often toss and turn for a while, then climb out of bed to go to the windowsill and sit and watch the sleepy activity on the streets below.

VALENTINE’S DAY PROMPTS / get a puppy for my muse, propose to my muse, breakup with my muse.

VALENTINE’S DAY PROMPTS / surprise my muse with a puppy.

for as long as she can remember, she has slept tightly coiled. head tucked, legs pulled up, arms tight ; half the time, when left to her own devices, rylie didn’t even use a PILLOW. all five foot three of her disappeared beneath whatever monstrous duvet lay across her bed until morning, and she did not emerge until such a time as her trusty little alarm clock stirred her ( usually at the UNGODLY time of four am ). alex being home was not an exception to this. she could fall asleep with ease in his arms, but sometime in the night, she would shift ; only very RARELY waking still wrapped around him. this morning, though, that hadn’t been because she had scooted away some time in the night, and had instead been because, at FOUR AM ( the alarm hadn’t been set, this morning, but her body still roused her ) ; he was nowhere to be found.

Hello there, Bean ^-^ and thank you very much!!!! And your blog is awesome!

you look really beautiful :D