yknow the more jk rowlings world falls apart in america (race relations, international history, population, etc) the more i like to think that america just straight up doesnt have the statute of secrecy. european countries are falling over themselves hiding magic but come to georgia and theres a drunk redneck wizard wingardium leviosa-ing the shit out of a tractor to the delight of his drunk redneck muggle buddies in a walmart parking lot.
wizard on muggle violence is prevented by virtue of there being like a 50/50 chance that muggle is packing heat. muggle on wizard violence is prevented by knowing that wizard can give you boils spelling LIL BITCH on your forehead if you try to start something.
america is the weird redheaded stepchild of the magic world.
im not gonna stop reblogging this until this is the next Hot Fanon
english muggles come back to england and suspicious wizards meet them at the airport.
‘did you witness any strange or inexplicable acts while you were in america?’ they demand.
the english muggles just laugh in their dumb fucking faces. mate, it’s america.
what’s the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?
english wizard: *two hour lecture on legal history*
american wizard: six beers
@jumpingjacktrash congrats ive read hundreds of comments on this dumpster fire of a headcanon and yours is the best
discussing a character’s patronus is OUT discussing what animal mask a character would wear in an illegal battlewagon death race in the goldcliff desert is IN baby
It took me a while to remember that in a university context, kin is short for kinesiology and i lemme tell you, hearing “she’s majoring in kin” nearly killed me on the spot
hypothesis: the salt & pepper diner experiment can no longer be conducted as it stands, because everyone is now fully attuned to the opening bars of tom jones’ “what’s new pussycat?”, classically conditioned into a fight-or-flight response. however, this experience can be replicated using 21 back-to-back plays of lou bega’s 1999 hit song “mambo no. 5″, as the general response to “mambo no. 5″ being played twice in a row is not, “hey someone’s playing “mambo no. 5″ again,” but rather, “hey, lou bega’s 1999 hit song “mambo no. 5″ is a lot longer than i first thought.”
Okay but honestly fucking shit like this when they show Zuko’s scar side when talking about Sozin and then having the bar pass and have his non-scar side when Iroh says Roku is his great grandfather if EXACTLY the kind of shit that elevates this show to where really no other show has ever come and probably never will
Clark doesn’t dress as Superman for the Daily Planet’s annual Halloween party just for the sake of irony.
He also does it because he knows that Bruce will find out, because Bruce always finds out, and he thinks it’ll be hilarious.
Well, that plus Bruce is always getting on his case about the fact that he doesn’t even bother to wear a mask as Superman. Clark has tried to explain it, how posture and body language can change people’s perceptions, how he keeps his Midwestern drawl as Clark, but drops it for Superman, how he wears intentionally ill-fitting clothing as Clark to hide his body shape…
Bruce believes him, but only begrudgingly. After watching the fifth talk show where Bruce has to comment about how “Do the butts match?” Clark has to wonder if Bruce isn’t also maybe a little bit jealous. It’s a good thing that Clark isn’t the petty sort, (Except maybe he kind of is, just a little bit.)
He almost buys the “Stripper Superman” Halloween outfit because it makes him crack up; only the fact that it’s a work party dissuades him. Instead he goes for the one that has fake muscles in it. They’re so awful, and so anatomically incorrect that he has to go for it. The fabric is shiny, and the “S” stretches funnily across his chest when he tries it on; the fabric is, after all, also cheap. The cape only goes down to his waist, and he has to buy the tights separately. It doesn’t comes with shoes, only boot covers, and he immediately decides he’s going to wear crocs.
Because he’s Superman.
He can do what he wants.
Bruce finds out about his plans (…because of course he does), and tries to talk him out of it. Clark listens politely, then mentions politely that he’s been watching episodes of drag race to get tips on how to make a fake derriere for his costume. After all, he’s got to make sure that the butts match.
Bruce leaves him alone after that (except to mutter darkly that Clark’s secret identity is going to be blown, and is Clark really-?)
When he gets dressed for the party, Clark makes sure not just to slick back his hair, but to make it obvious it’s slicked back. He parts it to the “wrong” side, like he was looking in the mirror when he did his hair, and forgot everything was backwards. He puts on the ridiculous, ill-fitting costume, the crocs, the boot covers, and adjusts all the foam “muscles” so that he “looks like Superman.”
He wears his glasses, because everyone knows Clark Kent can’t see without his glasses. He makes sure to slouch at the party, to keep to the mannerisms that scream to the world “I Am Clark Kent And Definitely Not Superman Nope.” And if his drawl is a little stronger that night then normal? It’s probably the available drinks.
Funnily enough, he’s not actually the only person to dress up as Superman; Superman is a popular figure at the Daily Planet, and there are enough costumed fans to have a “Superman look-alike” competition.
When Bruce finds out that Clark came in last place… Well, it’s hard not to act smug.
