But it wouldn’t be the same, they wouldn’t be yours— she whines, rolling to rest her body on his— they wouldn’t be as special to me

I don’t think it’s better, it’s just different— she mumbles, leaning into the touch as a soft purr leaves her lips— which is, amongst other deeper reasons, why I enjoy mixing both

— Why the question?— she shoots back, smugly quirking up a brow as a spark of mischief brews in the depths of her gaze— do you perhaps think I am wrong?

—First of all, that was smooth— she grins, bouncing a few times on the bed before she settles, still wrapped in the thick blanket, grinning softly at him— second, I believe your clothes vastly improve my outfits

Choosing to take the blanket AND her is definitely a decision, one even Kahlan can’t argue with, for she does not mind becoming part of Evan’s inventory. —It’s a win-win situation. I get to snuggle into comfy clothes that smell like you, and you get amazing views

The concept of me being the absolute best destiny for some of your items, such as this blanket, or some of your sweaters— she nods, allowing him to truly manhandle her around

That’s much better— she purrs, shuffling her body closer to his in her blanket burrito form— I personally think you should just embrace the concept

He can try, for she is holding on to it, rolling to wrap it around herself just to fix her gaze on him — And how is that working for you?— comes her teasing question, yawning as she snuggles into the blanket

Take it up with him —grins. She’s quite satisfied—

Could be worse, I could be Nere

Me personally, I’m tired and sore and in pain

You’re free to feel however you’d like

:)

The niffler.

—hisses again….and curls up under her thick blanket (stolen from him, mind you)—

— Call her Remus Lupin the way she’s been bitten by a random creature—

Average Monday for him

—hisses (softly)—

—groans, stretching, the cracking coming from her back is loud—

—missing her Barty—

Do we know how Professor Warwick got hurt? The hospital wing does not fit him

— don’t mind her if she doesn’t make it back to bed, @psychocrouch.bsky.social . She snuck out and it got out of hand—

You’ll be more comfortable in bed, love

Imagine, my soft bed, with the fluffy covers, you, me, cuddles…

Who said she wouldn’t join him there?

—tempted to levitate Barty to bed—

Barty is a small, adorable creature

—snoring on top. Good night—

—biiiiig yawn—

Barty fucking cunt

Come on, Ali. You cannot win every time, and it’s alright— she whispers, being the one to wrap her arms around his frame to pull him close to her chest

-sighs, sneaking into his bed just to hug him close, an attempt to comfort him—

#eames i need you all to see this edit i made for nolan. yay. probably my best work. ( it took an hour of my time and 2 hours of my sleep time )

Answer me— she hums, already sneaking her arms under his shoulders — are you hurt?

Casket, Aurelius, we call it “casket”

Are you hurt my love— she ever so softly speaks, leaning down to his level— come on, where are your pretty eyes? Definitely friend coded.

Cmon, you get the legs, I get the arms— she sighs, kneeling in front of Alistair, gently poking him. There’s things they have to check— Ali, Ali are you with us?

Nah— sighs, already walking down the stairs of the stands — I’ll take him away, seems like everyone in this bloody castle is just fucking useless

Isn’t there supposed to be people in charge of that?

Whoever is now in charge of gryffindor, please fire Oliver wood

He’s just a pretty lawnmower

Pookien’t

Oh shit

OLIVER WOOD YOU MENTALLY CHALLENGED PIECE OF SHI-

— @iuxtagen.bsky.social if he hears little claws padding across the floor no he does not—

—she’s fucking dying—

Someone tell Barty he was loved, but that I am now dead

—she huffs, shaking her head and looking away, having several thoughts that almost make it to her mouth, each more hurtful than the last. [So much for not kneeling for Velistra.] But in the end she does not say anything, for Kahlan is aware Aurelius is at least partly right: it’s complicated—

You have. A fucking. Pensieve. You have. My fucking. Memories.

The FUCK do I need to understand? That a set of parents can try and kill their fucking son and then call him home for an anticipated summer break?