@Zoe,

And anyone else who wants to read me being corny for the letter to our beloved we had to right as coursework for Romeo and Juliet.

Sappy Tayla is sappy. IDEK if you’ll see this.

lol do you think my teacher will realise it’s about a girl or

lol yolo

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jet.

Zeke pinched his eyebrows together, once again turning his face away from his companion. He hadn’t any idea how to answer these questions. He had changed, there was not a single doubt about that. And it seemed Zeke wasn’t the only one who didn’t actually like the change — both Jet and Lexi had noted that there was in fact a difference. Elijah was both disgusted with and terrified of his brother, though he never said it, Zeke could tell. His parents hadn’t come to see him, out of both fear and neglectfulness. They had never really cared for Zeke. The brunette gave a small sigh and turned back to Jetson, tears brimming in his eyes.

How could he answer these questions? It was so out of character, this weakness that he felt. It hurt him and it shook him to his very core, scaring the living daylights out of him. It was such an unusual feeling, this helplessness, though since Lysander, Zeke had been feeling it more and more frequently. Before arriving to Hogwarts, there was only ever one time that he felt the pain that he now felt every day of his life, and that was Nicola’s passing. Now, however, he carried with him the black stormy cloud of the pain and suffering, and he hated it. He had never hated anything more than this.

“It is me. Can’t you see that? I’ve changed! I didn’t want it, but I’ve changed! I hate it, Jetson, I really fucking hate it.” He was lost — more lost then ever before. He wanted to change himself, but how? How could he, when he was so broken? “I don’t know what happened!” he cried out, almost desperately. “I don’t fucking know.”

once-upon-a-franco:

James in Annapolis 

046/100 photosets of james franco (x)

aseaofquotes:

Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Ailing at Azkaban | Evelyn.

The chilled November air danced around the prisoners filing through the doors of Azkaban, causing even those who were used to the chill to shake slightly as they moved. Ezekiel Abrahams wrapped his arms around himself as he ambled in behind the other prisoners. As soon as he could let his gaze wonder over the crowds, he searched for his mother and father. They had said they were coming and, perhaps stupidly, Zeke had believed them. His eyebrows pinched together as his view skipped over the last of the somewhat tentative guests to the prison, and his heart sunk a mile when he realised they weren’t here. This was probably the third or fourth time his parents had stood him up like this and, for a man that had seen the prison from the inside various times, Zeke’s father seemed almost scared of returning. The boy bit the inside of his cheek and stifled any negative thoughts — he didn’t need that right now. What he needed was a friend. Someone to talk to. But, alas, Zeke was too stubborn and was determined to not let anyone see him weak. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, though it was what he most desperately needed.

It wasn’t as thought this — being stood up by his own parents — was a rarity. Various times Zeke had been left at soccer practices and at school. Hell, he was fending for himself at a young age. The Slytherin swallowed and began to turn on his heel and march back to his cell before something — or someone — caught his eye.

Of all the people Zeke saw in the crowd, the boy never expected her to be one. Evelyn Wood stood but a few meters away from him, looking somewhat judicious in her motions. She glanced around the prison once more before her eyes came to rest on Zeke, a small smile playing onto her lips. Before he knew it, his legs were moving toward Evelyn and her lips were being pressed to his stubble-ridden cheek. The brunette suddenly felt self-conscious — as if his whereabouts didn’t embarrass him enough, never had anyone seen him in this bad a state. He swallowed as she pulled away, her voice filling his ears as the lingering perfume swirled around his nostrils, causing Zeke to let his guard down for but a moment.

However, an overwhelming feeling of authority consumed Zeke and he suddenly felt as though he needed to protect the other brunette; scanning the room quickly, Ezekiel could already see the prisoners eyeing Evie as though she were a piece of meat, no doubt quietly craving the position Zeke was now in, with a hand hovering protectively at her waist. “Evelyn,” Zeke half-stated, half-questioned. What on Earth was she doing here? Here, in Azkaban. The stories, though half were not true, had done the place justice and the prison had definitely not failed to live up to it’s expectations — it was a truly horrid place, something Zeke wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemies. “What are you doing here?” he asked, the frown etching it’s way upon his features. “Not that it’s not nice to see you or anything,” the Slytherin added hastily. Had she come to see a family member? Elliot? It certainly wasn’t he she was here for — was it? 

How long?

Why didn’t you freaking tell me, man? 

aseaofquotes:

Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries