Walt Week Day 2: Walt at Disneyland
“Disneyland is not just another amusement park. It’s unique, and I want it kept that way.”
T h e R i d d l e s
The Riddle family was a very old Muggle family. Their members were snobbish, arrogant, and unpopular, all hated by the villagers of Little Hangleton. Thomas Riddle, his wife Mary, and their son Tom Riddle Sr. were killed in 1943 by Tom Marvolo Riddle, Tom’s son by pure-blood witch Merope Gaunt, whom he had married while influenced by magic (which was theorized to be either a love potion or the Imperius Curse) and later abandoned. Tom Marvolo Riddle killed his father for abandoning his mother, and killed his paternal grandparents for good measure so as to obliterate his Muggle roots. The murderer framed his maternal uncle Morfin Gaunt for the crimes, and he was sent to the wizarding prison of Azkaban, where he died.
Rumours of death and dragon fire were what brought Godric to the valleys of Wales.
He hacked through the undergrowth, swiping furiously at the branches as though they were his enemies. He swung back his arm… and a small girl dropped from the tree in front of him.
“Oi – you!” he shouted, as the girl sprung to her feet with the ease of a cat. “You want to be careful, creeping around like that. You startled my horse!”
The girl looked unfazed. “You want to be careful with that.” She nodded at the sword now hanging limply from Godric’s right hand. “You’ll take someone’s head off. There are children round here, you know.”
At first glance, Godric had taken her for a child. She was a head shorter than him, pale and freckled with wild fair hair. Her mustard yellow robes were tattered and muddy. Up close, however, Godric saw that it was young woman’s body that shifted beneath her clothes. She was no girl.
“I’m Godric Gryffindor,” he said, outstretching a hand. “And I apologise for almost taking yours or anyone else’s head off. Though I suspect your drop from the tree was timed. You were watching me approach, no?”
She smiled brightly. “You’re correct.” She took his hand. Her own was small, but surprisingly strong. “My name’s Helga.” (x)
Eh. I’m just going with that second one. Later gators
I’ll tell you:
The first character I first fell in love with:
The character I never expected to love as much as I do now:
The character everyone else loves that I don’t:
The character I love that everyone else hates:
The character I used to love but don’t any longer:
The character I would totally smooch:
The character I’d want to be like:
The character I’d slap:
A pairing that I love:
A pairing that I despise:
Alright friends, help a lady out. Which icon should I use?
Heehee. Thanks love. Is it alright that I do series?? Cause there’s no way I can pick singular books out of these first three
Get it together. Control it. Don’t feel. Don’t feel. Don’t feel!
for the girls that bleed galaxies are swallow stars.