#but i need to get serious with my studies and one of our biggest exams is just aroudn the corner so i really need to study now lol

[sakurapika]

Rose-Tinted Ego

A short story about being in college

It didn’t matter how many hours Azul Ashengrotto spent studying, making review guides, listening to lecture recordings, or reading ahead in his textbooks; when it came to exam rankings, he was always in second place. All things considered, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. To even have a chance at being admitted to the illustrious Night Raven College, one needed to be among the very best students in all of Twisted Wonderland (or have the money to afford the tuition, as some people did). Therefore, it was only natural that he’d find some of the biggest fish in his new pool. Azul’s own academic record was spotless, and as a young entrepreneur with an eye for investments and a thriving business, his future was bright. But the seaweed was always greener in someone else’s lake, and Azul wanted to know what it was like to be the best.

The day before winter break, Professor Crewel returned the class’s lab reports, based on their experiments on extracting poisons from the cyanide found in apple seeds. Professor Crewel had stood before the class, saying, “I’m thoroughly disappointed in this class. Do I need to keep a little jar of treats to condition you to follow every step of the rubric?”

Kalim Al-Asim had raised his hand. “Hey Prof, did anyone get an A?”

“A few did, but mostly because I pitied you useless hounds and knew you'd go home for the winter with your tails between your legs if I didn’t do otherwise.”

The air in the room felt deflated, as everyone felt their morale disappear from their stern teacher’s scolding. Unsure what to do, Kalim blurted out, “Um…did anyone get a perfect score?”

“Do I even need to say his name? Of course it was Riddle Rosehearts.”

Of course, Azul thought.

Although Azul would never show it, it irked him how that boy, Riddle, never failed to be first in every subject. Surely he had a weakness. Everyone did. Not only that, but Riddle had been Azul’s lab partner for this experiment, and they had shared experiment notes. They knew each other well enough. They both studied and worked like it was breathing. So why was one always better than the other?

Since poor Kalim had spoken up, Professor Crewel had picked him to pass out the graded lab reports to the respective students. When Riddle received his, he briefly glanced at their professor’s comments (which read “Good boy! A+!”), then turned it face-down and crossed his arms. Azul approached him.

“Hello, Rosehearts.”

“Ashengrotto,” he acknowledged.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your perfect score, as always. As we completed the experiment together, I had a chance to witness your meticulous note-keeping and your impressive lab skills. I surely have a lot to learn from you.” Azul smiled as he spoke, but there was a sliver of contempt in his voice, and he wasn’t sure he could stop Riddle from hearing it.

Riddle nodded. “You, too, are excellent at applied alchemy. I seem to recall that you were the first in our class to successfully create a voice-stealing potion. Even I had a bit of trouble with that one, despite following every part of the instructions in the lab manual.” He sounded sincere enough, but Azul couldn't be sure.

Kalim came by with Azul’s own lab report, saying, “Wowie! A ninety-nine percent, Azul? That’s awesome! Octavinelle students are so smart!”

Azul looked at his lab report and found no notes indicating where the missing one-percent of his grade was. Riddle leaned over his shoulder and said, “Ah, the reason you’re missing a point is because of the font size. Professor Crewel stated at the beginning of the semester that he expects every typed lab report to be in twelve-point font, but yours appears to be in thirteen. It is also written in the syllabus.”

Are you serious?

“My mistake,” Azul adjusted his glasses and laughed to hide his irritation. “I must have enlarged the text as I was typing to read properly, and forgot to change it back. My eyesight on land is rather poor, as I may have mentioned in the past.”

Looking at him expectantly, Riddle said, “I’m sure you’ll do your best to remember it next time, instead of making excuses?”

“But of course.” The nerve of this guy! Who does he think he is?

Behind them, their classmate Ruggie Bucchi let out a snort. “Please, why are you guys being so dramatic over one point? It’s not a big deal.”

They both turned around, utterly aghast. 

“Of course it’s a big deal!” Azul cried. “It’s the biggest deal!”

Somehow, Riddle was more upset. “Don’t you understand? Without my flawless grade point average, I’m nothing!” 

Putting his hands up in defense, Ruggie said, “Okay, okay, I get it!”

Without my grades, I’m nothing.

Although Azul resented Riddle for always being a model student, he understood the sentiment. Maybe he even felt a twinge of sympathy for himーwho knew? The game of academic rivalry was laden with complicated thoughts. He placed his paper in a clear file, dropped it in his bag, and prepared for the next class.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #divus crewel #kalim al asim #ruggie bucchi

[blxxeu]

happy

i want to be four again.  to play with my toys on the kitchen floor while my mom is making apple pie next to me, to scream at the top of my lungs when i'm running down the hill next to my house, to cry of happiness at the news of my mother being pregnant with my little sister, to hold my tears in whilst trying to look tough after falling and getting scars on my knees, to wake up in the darkness of my room from my baby sister crying, to feel unconditional love for my first “forever” best friend when i hugged her for the first time under the christmas tree,  to wake up confused in my bed the morning after i fell asleep on the sofa. 

i want to be seven again.  to smile big at my first attempt to ride a bike and making it, to not be able to contain my excitement for learning how to read, write and do math at school, to cry when i have to leave my friend’s house after playing together the whole afternoon, to eat cold sandwiches on breaks, to witness my sister taking her first steps, to watch disney shows when i come back home from school, to climb the tree in our house’s garden withouth falling for the first time, to eat the biggest ice cream cone in existence that my grandad gifted me on my birthday, to be devastated for having to start wearing glasses for the rest of my life. 

i want to be eleven again.  to relive my first music theory class, to try on my mom’s high heels and fall to my knees, to be scared of soon going to middle school, to get my first ever computer with an internet conection in the house, to start dressing the way i like even if no one else likes it, to start playing instruments and singing in choirs, to announce to my mom that i will become a fashion designer when i grow up and proceed to fill up millions of notebooks with my designs, to play “chefs” with my sister while we are feeding each other dirt mixed with water from the ground, to read books for the first time and realise how much i love them. 

i want to be fifteen again.  to find my very first friend group in high school, to go to my first out of country trip, to win choir competions, to study hard because academic validation is my coping mechanism, to hang out with my friends at the local playground on summer afternoons, to listen to music in my room while singing at the top of my lungs, to find my first part time job, to fall in love with my first ever serious crush, to hang posters of my favourite bands on my bedroom’s walls, to start getting into fights with my sister because she is too young to hang out with me now, to look at the falling stars from my balcony at night, to play video games with my friend who visits every summer.  

i want to be eighteen again.  to cry for days non-stop because my only friends left me, to start attending art classes, to sit on the bus and try not to fall asleep because of my exhaustion, to go to my first and last prom dance, to really feel lonely, to draw every chance i get, to leave my music studies behind, to travel to athens for the first time, to throw up from exams’ stress and anxiety, to hear the news of me getting into my first choice university, to finally reach my goal of moving out of my parents’ house and crying my eyes out for starting a new life, to make new friends from all over the country on my first day at uni, to visit home after months of being away. 

i want to be twenty again.  to walk back home from university while it’s raining and i have forgotten my umbrella at my appartment, to barely sleep because of my assignments, to fail my first uni class, to start contemporary dance lessons, to come to terms with the fact that i may be studying architecture but this is not what i want to do in life, to go out with my two best friends at whatever time of day because i no longer need permission from my parents to do anything, to go to the cinema next to my appartment complex late at night and watch horror films, to travel and meet my internet friends, to journal and draw when i have free time from studying, to do presentations of my architecture projects, to feel like i am finally finding my way. 

oh, how nice it would be to turn back time, to tell myself how much happiness was there when i was younger, how much less worried i should have been, how useless all those tears i've shed were, how silly little me was for not knowing she was letting the best years of her life slip through her fingers by always being sad. i never realised how truly happy i was when i was four, seven, eleven, fifteen, eighteen, twenty and all the ages in between. but, i do know it now, at twenty five, when life has changed for one more time and i feel like it’s out of my control, just like all the other times that life changed and i felt lost... 

maybe in five years from now i will know what the happiness i am feeling now feels, tastes, smells or sounds like. because i always feel happy way too late, i don't know how to feel it when the time is there, i am always a step away from it no matter how close i try to get.  

#writing #thoughts #life #writing dump #word vomit

[savingprimrose]

hi all! i’m back-ish ? Just here to say that I might not participate in the rivetra weekend cause i’ll be very busy indefinitely starting tomorrow but i’ll still write the prompts you guys sent me a couple of weeks back! It will just take me a long time to write them i guess. hope u guys understand! ily all 🥺🥺🥺

#rivetra #just an update in my life... #i'll miss interacting with everyone even if all i do is talk to myself lol #also i've got the idea for another royals au fic but like... when... #maybe in 2 years... #i'm going to miss readign and writings fics i'm 😭😭😭 #but i need to get serious with my studies and one of our biggest exams is just aroudn the corner so i really need to study now lol

[frenchly-anxious]

Here’s why you (and I) have been studying the wrong way all this time - part 1

Have you ever studied hard for a test, spending all your evenings on it, feeling prepared, just to fail it spectacularly?

Have you ever been told to re-read your lessons to learn it better?

Have you ever been told after a failed test that you obviously didn’t learn despite you knowing you definitely did?

If so, I’m very sorry, it means school has failed you on something it was supposed to teach you: how to learn. And really, the fault isn’t yours.

Fasten your seatbelts my friends, we’re going on an adventure to explain why school sucks at its own fucking job!

First of all, a little experiment by Tulving. We have 2 groups and we ask them to simply read 6 times a list of 22 words. Then, we give Group 1 the same list and ask them this time to remember as many words as possible. With Group 2, same task but it’s not the same list as before.

Question time: which group will do better? Group 1 with the list they have already read 6 times, or Group 2 with a totally new list?

I can guess you’re probably telling me Group 1, right?

Well. Actually, there is no difference at all between the groups. Nothing, nada. Reading the words 6 times before didn’t give any advantage to Group 1.

What is this witchcraft, I hear you say?

Let me introduce you to the biggest misconception of our school life: reading your lesson over and over won’t help you at all.

How is that possible? Well, there’s a concept we all heard countless time, but that was never explained correctly: effort. To learn something, you need to make efforts. I’m not saying you’re not being serious when reading your lesson, not at all.

The thing is, reading is by now is a reflex for you, it doesn’t require a lot of efforts. Do you remember how hard it was to read when you were a child, or have you seen a young child trying to read? Every word is a battle, to the point that sometimes, they have finished reading but can’t remember what they read: all of their attention was on how to pronounce this group of letters, not on what they were saying.

For us, adults, reading is not something very complicated. It became a reflex, so now our attention isn’t on how to read, but on what we read. It sounds like a good thing, right? It is, but not when it comes to learning.

The action of reading isn’t complicated, and so you don’t have to be involved that much. You’re reading it, you’re understanding it; but when are you making the effort to memorize it? That’s where the problem is: reading is mostly passive, whereas learning is active.

You probably already encountered this paradox, though: the more you read your lesson, the more familiar it feels. You’re reading it and you’re like “Yeah, I remember that, and that too, and this after too”. But once in front of your exam: nothing. Or at least, not enough. This familiar feeling is just that: a feeling. Your brain is only telling you “Yeah, I already read that”, but we mistake it for “I already learned that”.

The difference is quite important, but we aren’t necessarily aware of it. So when teachers are telling us “You didn’t study”, we’re offended because we’re certain we did. Yes, we did work; but we didn’t in the right way.

Another study to prove my point (Roedinger & Karpicke, 2006):

Once again, 2 groups. My question would be: when asked to remember as much info as possible in a text, who would win?

Group 1, with 4 sessions of 5 minutes to read the text?

Or Group 2, with 5 minutes to read it and then without the text, 3 separate sessions of 5 minutes to write down as many things they can remember (without any correction from the examiners of course)?

This time, you already know where I’m going. But our instinct tells us “Obviously Group 1, they had more time!”. Which is technically true. 5 minutes after the end of that experiment, when we ask each group what they remember, Group 1 takes the lead. They get around 85% of the notions from the text, while Group 2 gets 70%. It isn’t much but it’s indeed better.

Which is great. But that’s 5 minutes after learning.

If we meet with them again 1 week later, and ask again what they do remember, Group 1 falls at barely 40% of the notions, not even half of what they learned. What about Group 2, you ask? They’re at 60%, which is very good!

The funny thing is, if asked, Group 1 will tell you how confident they feel about what they remember and that they will nail the test, while Group 2 will be saying they don’t remember a lot. Because once again, Group 1 has this feeling of familiarity about the text.

But then why is Group 2 so much better after a week?

It’s about effort.

The 5 minutes they spent reading didn’t require a lot of efforts. They understood what was written, maybe had enough time to read it a few times. Then they didn’t have the text anymore, but we asked them to write down what they remember. Once. Twice. Thrice.

During those 3 sessions, they had to make efforts. Efforts to search in their memory for what they had read. And this, contrary to reading, isn’t really easy and definitely isn’t passive.

“What did I read?” they asked themselves in front of this blank page, the text long gone. “Wait, I almost forgot this! And didn’t they talk about something else? Wait, what was it?... Oh!”

By doing so, they re-activated neurons, creating paths, reinforcing them. They did that 3 times. So their brain was like “Wait, we searched for that info multiple times, it must be important!”

Then what about Group 1, you wonder? They had 4 sessions to read it! Didn’t their brain also realize it was important?

Your brain’s goal is to automate things you need. Because if those things are automated, you don’t have to focus on them anymore, you don’t have to spend all your energy on it.

Do you remember when you learned how to ride a bike? It was hard, you fell often, but now you don’t have to think about; that’s because your brain was like “Shit, this is giving us a hard time. This is a problem, because if it takes all of our attention to just stay on the bike, we won’t be able to avoid obstacle or anything.” The solution to that is making ‘staying on the bike’ a reflex, something you know so much you don’t have to reinforce it anymore.

With Group 1, reading that text wasn’t hard. Their brain was like “meh, no problem, it doesn’t require more of my help”. If it isn’t problematic, no need for trying to automate it or make it easier.

But for Group 2, it was harder. Making the effort to try to remember what they read was very consuming in time, attention and energy. Their brain HAD to do something so it would become easier: it learned, and it learned for a longer time. Because of the repetition of that effort, because this difficulty kept appearing and being annoying in a way, their brain realized they needed to know that. Just like how you learned your phone number, your address,... You searched for it multiple times, you used it multiple times; now you don’t need to re-learn it, it’s there to stay.

So Group 1 spent 20 minutes reading a text, just to remember it for a day or two.

Group 2 also spent 20 minutes, but 5 for reading, and 15 to test themselves, and it lasted way more than a week.

Both groups did work. But one of them is obviously more efficient.

You want to learn efficiently? Leave your notes aside, and make the effort to try to remember it, even if it’s imperfect. No: especially if it’s imperfect.

Yes, I know, it seems counterintuitive. However it works incredibly well!

But that will be for a part 2...

#I am OBSESSED with that knowledge #I can and I will ramble about it #you can't stop me #learning #school #studying #studyblr #college #university #how to learn #learning tips #school tips #college tips #it's during time like this I love my studies #learning to learn #pedagogy #didactic #come yell with me about it #langblr

[felikatze]

give me the a brainworms i am deeply invested in this man

(0) (2) (3) (4)

okay first of all you asked for this. second of all if i am a little off track from the game that is explained by me just building thoughts like building blocks without looking back. third i was supposed to be studying for an exam but this counts as practice right? it's character analysis anyway lmao.

buckle the fuck up, my dearest anon, because I have sub headings.

1. A as the Player Character

Let me begin with why I am obsessed with this horrid little guy in the first place: he's a silent protagonist. I am always obsessed with protagonists. It's a law of nature. I love taking hollow characters and dissecting them for scraps. It's a long standing practice of mine.

Being a silent protagonist, A, as X, does not have a set personality. However, there are patterns. Firstly, as any semi-silent protagonist, A is a reactive character. He does not start incidents, he only responds to situations, presented by the Sephirah, as they arise. He does not actively seek out new information, merely going about the routine of expanding departments, but expresses curiosity when information is presented to him.

I'm aware fandom likes to characterize X and A differently, likely because they are initially presented as different characters. I, on the other hand, would like to pose the theory that they are more similar than expected.

I believe that A is also a reactive character, rather than active. Despite the fandom wiki describing him as stubborn, the goal A pursues with such fervor, the completion of the Seed of Light, is not actually a goal he set for himself. Carmen is the one who set this goal for him by leaving him her legacy.

Throughout the backstory we get relating to the Cogito Project, A is Carmen's assistant, whereas Carmen is the driving researcher. This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be; going with the flow of goals set for them by superiors. Yes I will get into his attachment to Carmen later.

The above is not to say A isn't stubborn. Once he has accepted a goal as his own, he will pursue it at all costs, as is obvious from any and all flashbacks leading to horrible deaths. But the point isn't his pursuit of the goal, but where that goal comes from. Even Lobcorp itself supports this, despite what Hokma may say; A as X follows the "simple" task of managing the Corp's day to day activities, and executes any mission given to him by the Sephirah. He outranks them, and doesn't actually need to do their missions, but does so anyway. Players are driven by the reward offered by those missions, of course, and A might be the same in that regard. Nonetheless, at no point in gameplay do you do anything somebody else hasn't told you to.

The overarching narrative of the Script would be the most obvious example. Every single person in the game follows the script, whether they know it or not.

Lastly on this note, a phrase we hear attributed to A, "Machines must behave as machines." Now, Angela may be attached to this phrase because it bears significance to herself as a machine, and informs most of A's unjust treatmeant of her. However, what if it doesn't just apply to machines? The phrase reads as such, "Everyone must act according to their own role."

2. A, Carmen, and the disease of the mind

So, A will at any cost pursue goals Carmen set for him. Question is, why? The obvious answer would be saying he's in love with her, which like, true. But also, how did Carmen come to be so precious to him?

Let us return to the comparison, "This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be." We don't really know why exactly most characters joined Carmen, excluding mainly Daniel and Benjamin. But this does not mean we can't have theories.

Carmen's ideal was curing the "disease of the mind." What is the disease? Complete hopelessness. The inability to form aspirations and dreams, to think of a better future. A is a very reactive character who does not set goals for himself. Therefore, I personally conclude, that initially, Carmen's ideology resonated with him because he could identify with the disease.

This is the point where I start rewatching Lobcorp story clips. Dear god.

So, by briefly binging day 27 onward, I've come up with lines that very much support this lil theory of mine:

First, from Carmen, a description of the disease, "People lock away their own potential."

Second, a line from Angela, after the memory synchronization, "You've locked yourself in this prison without bars."

Carmen describes A as humble, and Benjamin thinks he is warm. If I suppose A was one of the diseased initially, Carmen would be the catalyst for this change. Carmen was someone with big aspirations, with plans to heal what is wrong with the City, and it gave him hope. He was one of the diseased, but through time with Carmen, with that relentless optimistic spirit, he may have been cured, for a time. It's not a stretch to say that she was his light.

But lor shows us what happens when the seed of light sprouts wrong, doesn't it? It distorts. A grasped hope for the first time and then it is ruthlessly crushed. Carmen was everything. Yes, A is described as a jack-of-all-trades, as a genius in all pursuits he puts his mind to, but what does that matter in the face of someone who can unite people? Who can give them hope of a better world? Who can inspire them to actually use the talents they have?

And what kind of pressure is it to put the legacy of a messiah in the hands of the diseased?

3. A and the Perception Filter: A is weak to White damage

No, I am serious about that. He's extremely weak mentally. Obviously death of a loved one is a changing experience for absolutely anybody, but Carmen's death destroyed him.

Not only did he refuse to confide this grief to anyone and bottled it up, now everybody looked to him to lead the project, but he just isn't Carmen. He isn't an ambitious person, he doesn't have the same optimism, he can't bring people together, but people expected him to, and he failed. Hard.

While he was without a doubt talented in science, he was also just an average guy.

After her death, A grew to hate humans. He lost trust in them. He refused to confide in anyone, and be confided in by anyone. Thus, the team fell apart.

In both lobcorp and lor, we get interesting tidbits about precations taken to protect the manager.

Firstly, Lobcorp's perception filter. The cartoony art-style of the game is a result of the game being in first person. Through the eyes of the manager, everything is cartoony!

This is a measure undertaken to specifically protect the manager's psyche. Angela tells us that, before it was deployed, the manager would frequently go insane, one notable incident including the manager trying to hang himself. When we first hear this, the previous managers and X are still separate in our minds. However, they're all A! A went insane multiple times without it.

This is understandable, considering that employees also frequently go insane and try to kill both themselves and others. But they're there in action, confronting the Abnormalities directly. Just watching them made the manager go mad. They could not handle the responsibility for the employees' deaths.

In lor, Angela explains why she picked the Rabbit Team from R Corp as their main contractor instead of any other team. One team was simply too big for L Corp's narrow hallways, and the other team... dealt in psychic damage. It was simply too big of a risk for the manager. But the manager is always secure behind the cameras. Would that teams methods just be that brutal visually, or would their attacks have reached the manager?

Combined with his immense grief at all of his friends and coworkers dying in part because of him, A cannot bear to look at death.

4. A's greatest flaw: Avoidance

A common thread during Core Meltdown flashbacks: A refuses to look at suffering. He just can't. Whether it be looking away from Elijah writhing on the floor or hanging up on Daniel's panicked report of death.

This is actually the thing Angela takes the biggest issue with, and what hurt her most. A would never look at her, acknowledge her, and she did not understand why. But I think A did not refuse to look at her out of maliciousness. Rather, it was out of grief over Carmen. He could not look at her without being reminded of what he lost.

Angela's creation came about because A wanted someone to guide him, someone like Carmen. He threw himself into the project to the point it made Benjamin happy that A was passionate about anything again. But as soon as the project he distracted himself with is complete, he is filled with regret. Carmen cannot be replicated, and he breaks again.

Furthermore, tying this back to my first point about A being a reactive person, we see Angela take charge over A. She's the one recruiting employees and leading the business. It was likely a relief for him to be able to step down from the leading position.

But avoiding it made everything worse. He did not act when he saw Elijah's unchecked ambition, he did not act beyond a simple check at Gabriel's decay, he gave Giovanni the same hope he clung to to no avail, et cetera et cetera.

Avoiding his problems is making them worse and sending everything down the drain (including his psyche), so he deals with it the only way he knows how, avoiding them more!

Biggest example of A's big avoidance problem as his psyche crumbles: the memory wipe. A, in perhaps his one singular moment of acknowledging his emotions, recognizes that he is incapable of fulfilling the Script in his current state. His grief is just too much.

By erasing his own memory, he could start fresh without his grief, because he might've really killed himself otherwise. His suffering became bigger and bigger, and he coped by avoiding it.

The memory wipe allowed him to distangle his problems. Through his interactions with the Sephirah (which I will not individually detail for the sake of my sanity and because I dumped all this on a friend on discord already), he can deal with and actually process his issues one at a time.

As the motto describes, only by facing the fear can he build the future. Only by finally facing his grief and acknowleding it, seeing that the past cannot be changed and he has no choice to move forward, can he actually do so.

5. The Sephirah as ghosts

Lobotomy Corporation feels like a ghost story. I've touched upon this in my previous A post.

As you reach the Corp's lower levels, there are less Sephirah. First there are four. They act like normal employees, and do not breach into the story's underbelly until you reach their core supressions and the facade breaks. Second, counting Tiphereth as one, there are three. They still go about their duties, but they know what they are. Third, there are two, and the facade is gone. They know what they are, and they will tell you about the sins of the past.

And finally, you reach Keter, and there is only one.

This gradual decay of the facade is what really gets to me. I said that by interacting with the Sephirah, A deals with his issues one by one, but that's what the Sephirah are, in this case. Representations.

The people the Sephirah used to be are dead, and the Sephirah are their ghosts. The core supression involve putting these ghosts to rest. Doesn't it match the progression of a typical ghost story? Find the ghost, find what they used to be, and help them move on.

So, if everyone is a ghost, then A is alone.

But, behind the scenes, the Sephirah are still there. They are still people, and they have changed for the better, too. As always, A simply does not look.

(Does he even see the good others see in him? Does he look away from praise, too? Did he even realize Benjamin's admiration for him? Will we ever know?)

6. A's end.

A's progression of moving on would be fine and dandy if it did not end as thus: A does kill himself.

A sees himself beyond the point of no return. Everyone is dead. He is alone. Carmen is never coming back. He can't call it quits now, or else everything has been in vain. (Even if the last days show us a part of him wants to just quit, so badly.)

So, there's only one thing left to do: follow the Script to its ending. Fulfill Carmen's legacy at all costs. Death as the ultimate release.

This is the point where I admit I do not like the death as release trope. But the game does a good enough job as presenting it as the only option A had, or the only option he saw himself as having.

However, I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again: A was not alone. Death was his release, but he left wreckage. In order to end his own suffering, he inflicted the same pain he went through on others.

Throughout the game, he moves on and pushes through. The ending shows that in reality... he didn't.

At least in lor the characters stick together and help each other heal.

This has been most of my thoughts on A, amounting to my longest analysis post ever, having taken me approximately two and a half hours to complete, and clocking in at 2337 words including up to this paragraph.

Thank you anon for giving me the incentive to verbalize all of this, so I can finally be at ease having inflicted my thoughts on everybody else.

#Feli gets asked #lobotomy corporation #ayin #library of ruina #also i saw apparently another fandom besides lc uses the ayin tag which is just fun to watch honestly #many characters could rival this word vomit probably but as i said i already inflicted most of my thoughts abt netz on my good pal borgor #thank you borgor for dragging me back into projmoon stuff. also curse you terribly #long post #Feli speaks

[scripttorture]

Hello! I have a few questions related to your most recent post and the definition of torture. You said:

"A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture."

According to everything else I have seen on your blog, this makes sense - the mental and physical trauma from being tortured have lasting effects which make certain tasks more difficult.

However, this seems to juxtapose certain tropes I've seen in US military training advertisements. For example, "Hell Week" in the Navy SEAL training seems like it would be torture if it was forced upon someone (like if the soldiers didn't sign up for it and didn't have the option to quit.). *Hell Week is when soldiers are training continuously for 5 days in freezing, wet conditions, with little more than 4 hours of sleep for the entire week, under insane amounts of physical and mental stress.

- If someone chose to be tested both mentally and physically, I feel like it wouldn't be torture. However, if the same exact conditions were forced upon someone else (testing their mental and physical limits without their consent or understanding), does your quote above mean that the person who did not have a choice would not reap the benefits of the training/testing? Or would the Navy SEALs be better soldiers if they didn't have to go through 'torturous conditions' during Hell Week, regardless of their choice to do so?

(I used Hell Week as an example, but I meant this question generally. I'm trying to figure out how to best train an elite soldier and avoid any harmful torture apologia tropes, while also making sure that they are able to handle insanely challenging situations)

- My other question has more to do with the definition of torture that you quoted from the UN in one of your master posts. If someone is being seriously injured (pulled fingernails, whipping, starvation etc), but not for the purposes of interrogation, punishment, or intimidation, is that still torture, or is that just abuse? And, regardless of what we call it, would the effects be the same as if it were torture for any of the three motives above?

Sorry if this is long and hard to understand, I can clarify if needed!

It’s not the longest I’ve gotten and it’s perfectly clear, duck*. :) Honestly this is a difficult topic with a lot of nuance, it’s better to take a longer and more thoughtful approach.

 From the stand point of the legal definition and what we study/understand as torture any consensual activity, however extreme, is not torture.

 But here’s where it gets interesting: consent and our attitude to an activity actually changes our response to pain. It may even change how much pain we feel.

 I’m going to take a slightly different example to yours. There are a lot of cultures globally that have practiced scarification, ritual cutting to deliberately form scars. And this can be done for a lot of reasons: membership of a family or clan, coming of age, traditional medicine, religion, you get the idea.

 A lot of people in these cultures describe their scars as incredibly important and the process of getting them as a moving, deep and positive process.

 This does not mean they wouldn’t be traumatised if they were attacked by someone with a knife.

 Being able to approach something painful and see it as positive really changes our perspective. It makes trauma and mental illness a lot less likely. And being able to back out, even if it’s just for a little while to take a breather, seems to make us able to withstand more pain then we would have otherwise.

 The simplest and most famous experiment that dealt with this relationship between our mindset and pain asked people to keep their hands in ice cold water. They timed how long people could do it when they were told to stay silent and how long they could do it when they were allowed to swear. If they swore they could hold their hands under for longer. An average of forty seconds longer.

 Looking back over O’Mara (Why Torture Doesn’t Work, a very good intro to how pain works and what it does to the brain) the way he describes it as by thinking of the experience of pain as a collection of three things. There’s the physical sensation itself, the nerves firing. But there’s also an affective component, how we feel emotionally about the experience and a cognitive component, how we think about it.

 Did you ever play that game as a kid where you stuff as many chilis as possible in your mouth to see who would spit them out first? I… might have done. And from what I remember it hurts an awful lot. But those memories to me are mostly about messing about with my friends, I remember trying to be stubborn about it and I remember us laughing at each other.

 This is a completely different experience to someone being held down and having chili stuff up their nose. But the difference isn’t necessarily in the physical damage done or the physical sensation of pain. It’s in the other components, the emotional response and the rationalisation.

 I also had a filling drilled in my tooth without painkillers as a kid. I don’t know how common this is in the West? It happened in Saudi. Honestly my biggest memory of it is the language barrier between myself and the dentist.

 These are anecdotes obviously but I’m trying to show that you probably also have experiences in your own life that back up the experiments too. The way we think about a painful experience really does make a huge amount of difference. And that means consent matters enormously.

 These soldiers are going into this experience knowing what to expect, how long it will last and that they can stop at any time. That makes a huge amount of difference. Those same factors have drastically increased the time volunteers will spend in solitary confinement for research. I’m pretty sure if I dug even a little I’d find pain studies with similar findings.

 Here’s the flip side: the physical factors are still in play.

 Sleep is an important physiological process that’s essential to normal functioning. Studies on consensual sleep deprivation have shown massive negative impacts on memory along with a host of other things that you can read about here.

 Let’s take a non torture example. A student who stays up all night cramming for an exam is not going to develop the symptoms of trauma that a torture survivors who was sleep deprived would. But the effect sleep deprivation has on memory is due to sleep playing an essential role in preserving memory (and learning more generally.) So they’re both likely to have difficulty remembering things in days just before and just after sleep deprivation. They’re also both more likely to have false memories and catch a bad cold.

 As a result of this memory impairment I question the educational value of anything involving sleep deprivation: you can’t learn while messing up the processes that let your brain remember things.

 There have been cases in the UK of people dying during training for the armed forces. Because while consent makes a huge difference, mindset makes a huge difference- our bodies still have limits. We can choose to push ourselves past those limits and, whatever our motivation or feelings, it can do real harm.

 Personally? I’m unsure of the benefit of these kinds of exercises. As in I’m unsure there is a benefit. Learning is going to be shot, chances of injury are going to be a lot higher- I don’t see anything that could be improved by these sorts of exercises.

 Anecdotally people do report feeling like a closer unit after going through these sorts of routines. That might be the benefit: moral and unit cohesion, possibly self-esteem too.

 If you’re making up something for your story I think it’d be helpful for me to mention a little statistical effect that gets used to justify punishment pretty regularly. Get some dice out if you’ve got them and roll one. Let’s say the number represents performance in some kind of test (because effort and learning matter but our performance also varies because of things we can’t control.) A roll of 1 gets punished, a roll of 6 gets praised.

 Now after you roll that first 1 statistically speaking the chances are your next roll will be better. And if you roll a 6 then statistically speaking the chances are your next roll will be worse. People observe this effect in real life and they often conclude that there’s no point in praising someone but that punishment leads to improvement. Really it’s just a statistical effect, after a particularly, noticeably bad day the chances are things will be better next and vice versa.

 This effect can make it difficult for people to recognise overall, long term progress. Which is the kind of progress you should be paying attention to when designing a training program.

 If you want good performance from people, whatever the metric, the most efficient thing to do is ensure that those people are; well fed, have access to clean water, get plenty of sleep, have breaks and have access to medical treatment when they need it.

 I’d say the main things to keep in mind when designing this fictional training regime are:

Being honest about the effects you describe, ie if they’re spending long periods without shelter are they at risk from exposure? If they’re standing in cold water are they going to get hypothermia?

Remember that even if something is damaging or causes lasting trauma it would not necessarily prevent someone from doing their job. Torture survivors have serious, lasting symptoms but many of them still work.

 I think I’m going to leave that there because I’m not an expert in militaries or training people. And keep in mind that I am a pacifist, read this with my biases in mind.

 Getting to the second question, there is a little more to the UN definition then that. The primary factor is still who the abuser is. For it to be torture (legally speaking) the abuser has to be (or be ordered by) an on-duty government employee, part of a group that controls territory (ie an occupying force). Some countries also count international organised criminal gangs in this definition.

 It’s also important to note that torture can be targetted at someone other then the victim. So if the police arrest the brother of a political opponent and beat him in order to intimidate the politician, that is still torture.

 Basically there are a lot of factors in the legal definition of torture and it’s that way by design. The hope is that you end up with a framework that captures as much government abuse as possible.

 But it also means that there’s a pretty high barrier when it comes to proving torture. Which means that things which are legally torture can be prosecuted as assault, bodily harm or equivalents to these, because it’s easier to get a conviction for those charges.

 Technically you are correct: if abuse done by a government official doesn’t have one of the four motivations in the legal definition (attempts to obtain information, forcing a confession, intimidation or punishment) then it doesn’t meet the definition.

 However in practice I’ve not heard of a case failing because of the motive.

 I’m not a lawyer and I’m not an expert in international law. I won’t say it’s never happened. But it’s much more common for cases to fail for other reasons. Off the top of my head I’d say the most common reason is difficulty proving the abuse took place.

 The most common types of torture today are ‘clean’, a term we use to indicate that they don’t leave obvious marks. If someone turns up with fingernails torn out or the skin of their back lacerated by a whip that is clear physical evidence of abuse. Nothing else causes similar injuries. But if someone turns up at a doctor’s with swollen feet or reddened skin, if they’ve lost a lot of weight or they’re so tired they’re struggling to stand… Well all of those things can be caused by common tortures. But they can also be caused by common illnesses.

 A lot of the deaths from torture today are similarly hard to prove. Beatings and stress positions ultimately cause death by kidney failure. Which can mean that prosecutors are asked to prove a victim didn’t have an underlying health condition. Or take drugs.

 Honestly my instinct is that the motive is the easiest thing to prove. It’s often harder to bring charges against people in positions of authority, regardless of the country we’re talking about. Bringing those charges, proving abuse took place and proving it was done by the person in question, those are usually the tricky parts.

 The difference between torture and abuse is scale. Torture is industrial scale abuse.

 The law doesn’t define that scale but that’s what we’re talking about when we talk about abuse from organised authority. Abusers might have dozens of victims. Torturers have thousands, tens of thousands.

 If you want to explore a different motivation in your story, something outside the legal framework, consider the scale at which this abuse is taking place. Consider how organised it is. If it’s organised and large scale, with multiple abusers, with no prior relationship between the abuser and victims then torture will probably be a better model then abuse. If it’s smaller scale with a more personal relationship and if it isn’t supported by a legal framework/organisation then abuse might be a better model.

 For victims and survivors the difference isn’t so much about the symptoms they personally experience as the… side effect of that scale. Abuse victims are often very isolated and may not know anyone who has had a similar experience. Torture implies a community of survivors and possibly generational trauma. There are also effects to do with access to support, access to medical care and how likely it is that someone will be believed.

 Torture survivors are often systematically disenfranchised in a way that abuse victims are not. Torture survivors are often forced to leave their home country. Anecdotally, based on what I’ve seen globally over the last few years, I think that struggling to get citizenship is increasingly an issue for torture survivors. And without citizenship there’s difficulty finding legal work, getting accommodation, accessing medical care, accessing the legal system etc.

 I do not know whether torture survivors are more or less likely to be believed by their community compared to survivors of abuse. I do not think any one has attempted a comparative study. I do know that the prevalence of clean torture means that many torture survivors are not believed and this puts up a further barrier, making it harder to access medical treatment and bring charges.

 Rejali’s book was published in 2009, so things may have changed a tad. At the time he was writing the average wait for a torture survivor to see a specialist doctor was about 10 years.

 Abuse is to torture what murder is to genocide. And there are difference on a wider social scale as a result.

 I mention all that because I feel it’s relevant but the impression I get is you’re mostly interested in the long term symptoms? In which case, yes the legal definition makes very little difference. The physical injuries caused by particular kinds of abuse don’t change depending on whether it’s a private individual or a police officer holding the Taser.

 The lasting psychological symptoms are not particular to torture; they’re what the human brain does when traumatised. The same symptoms can manifest in people who witness traumatic events but weren’t actually hurt themselves. They can manifest in people who were injured in accidents and they manifest in people who were neglected or abused. Hell, I have a couple of them, though no where near the severity a torture survivors would experience. A sufficient amount of stress is enough for these symptoms to start developing in anybody.

 You can find the general list of symptoms here. There’s also a post specifically about memory problems over here.

 The pattern I describe; that these symptoms are a list of possibilities not ‘every torture victim will get all of these’ holds true for trauma survivors generally. Anecdotally there is some variability with chronic pain being reported more often with some kinds of abuse. That might be because it can have physical causes, psychological causes or a mix of the two.

 Whether it’s torture or abuse there isn’t any way to predict a survivor’s symptoms in advance. Much of the advice I have about writing torture survivors and their symptoms holds true for trauma survivors generally. Which is why I’ll still take a crack at some questions that aren’t about torture.

 Pick the symptoms that you feel fit the character and serve the story. We can’t predict symptoms and that means that there’s no reason why you shouldn’t pick the things that appeal to you.

 And I think I’m going to leave it there. I hope that helps :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*This is a weird English endearment. I had someone ask if this was me trying not to swear. 

#orphicphosphenes #writing advice #tw torture #torture as training #legal definition of torture #clean torture #military abuse #trauma #trauma and consent #pain #pain and memory #sleep deprivation #attitudes towards clean tortures #writing survivors #abuse within the military

[softomi]

now accepting boyfriend applications: intro to business

synopsis: it’s crazy how things can slip the mind, just like how you posted about wanting boyfriend applications but granted, you were drunk. It seemed like Akaashi had the upper hand; until a certain classmate intrudes your mind. 

series: now accepting boyfriend applications

previous: literature

next up: biology

series taglist: @kyomihann @chesley-cant-deal @bluearmufs @your-consulting-fangirl @itsmeaudrieee @winunk @aegiseterna @katelyns-stuff @mochipk @3rachachoo @kyuudere @sixthself @merakiulous-k​ @notsostraightweeb  

*bold means I wasn’t able to tag you*

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen @waitforitillwritemywayout @chibichab @trifliz

“I’m almost positive that guy wasn’t your boyfriend.” Kuroo would know, he probably isn’t going to tell you that he’s familiar with Akaashi due to a mutual friend. Instead, he lifts his chin, “ex-boyfriend.” He corrects himself.

You bite the insides of your mouth, “No he was not.”

You’re back to an internal groan, now you were stuck with the next boyfriend candidate and it’s starting to feel like you’re speed dating.

“Business is all about—” It’s ten minutes into class and your professor enjoys beginning class with an inspirational quote which then smoothly leads into lecture. Only, today, it seems as though he’s taking forever to get to the point of the quote.

Like always, Kuroo remains fixated on the lecture. He was the type to never take notes, though his notebook was out, and his pen is twirling in his hand, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him write anything down. Yet he was somehow managing a ninety-eight percent in the class, what an intelligent prick.

“You good?” He’s mouthing to you and you’ve realized that you had been staring.

You nod in an attempt that he doesn’t catch how embarrassed you actually were to have been caught looking at him. Kuroo turns back to the lecture and now you’re staring down at your phone that is reaching sixty percent. You shamelessly pull up the pdf he had sent you.

“Are you reading my letter of intent?”

You lock your phone so fast; it almost falls on the floor. You’re only lucky that it falls off the desk and Kuroo’s reflexes quickly catch the cell. The action makes both of your desks squeak against the floor and everyone’s heads turn. Both you and Kuroo mutter apologies as he hands you back your phone.

“Cat got your tongue?” He’s stupidly smirking, and you’re tempted to kick him, “Did you read it?”

“No.” You say in a hushed voice, turning your eyes to the board trying to pay attention for once.

He, also, turns to look at the board. Chin resting on his palm, “What a shame.”

For the rest of the class period, he remains silent. He’s fixated on the professor’s lecture, but your mind is racing. Your leg is bouncing rapidly, fingers tapping against the desk, you’re itching to touch your phone but scared it’ll make Kuroo pull another move to talk to you.

The lecture drags, you want to go back to sleep, and you’re suddenly realizing that you’ve skipped breakfast and lunch. Your stomach growls, to you it sounds like a dinosaur’s roar but no one else in the room seems to have heard it. Once more it growls, making you lean your head on the desk with a heavy sigh. You were starving, suddenly aware that you’ve left your wallet at home, and you’ve neglected to add your card to your cell phone so now you’re contemplating skipping your biology lab or starving for the rest of the day.

Your head is laid on its side, giving you perfect view of Kuroo’s side profile. His bed hair looks soft and you’ve got to admit that his jawline is exquisite. He smirks, eyes looking at you from the side. You’d feel embarrassed but you’re hungrier even to the point of being angry.

The lecture drags on and at this point you think you might die from the way your stomach is crying.

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks after the fifth time your stomach as growled.

“Is it that obvious?”

Kuroo laughs lowly, “You sound like a car that won’t start.”

You take full offence, “Shut up.”

He was always like this, playful and poking jabs at you. He loved to banter with you and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like it. Talking with him was like talking to a childhood friend, it’s easy going and free spirited. Even when the two of you were studying for the first business exam, tucked in a hidden space on the second floor of the library; the studying was abandoned when he kept showing you funny scenes from an anime, resulting in you watching the anime on his tiny cell phone screen despite the both of you clearly having your laptops out.

Kuroo leans close to you, “Want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” You whisper, “We still have forty-five minutes left.”

Kuroo is shutting his notebook, “I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Bet.”

You’re trying to hide your laughter as you and Kuroo slowly pack up to leave. Now the only thing was to try and leave without making the biggest scene. You’ve successfully stood, only drawing small attention as you’re headed for the door. Kuroo seems to struggle, as he picks up his bag, it knocks against the empty desk next to him, drawing full attention to himself and you. It’s deadly silent, you’re frozen at the door and Kuroo is rushing to you.

“Go!” Kuroo pushes you out of the class.

“That was so embarrassing!” The laughter coming from you makes you run out of breath, “How are we supposed to go back to class on Tuesday?”

“Why were you just standing at the door!” Kuroo is yelling yet laughing at the same time.

You slap his arm, “You’re the one who decided to announce that we were leaving in the middle of the lecture. God, the professor probably hates us now.”

You’ve reached the small café in the business department, it doesn’t have a lot of options, mostly cold sandwiches and packaged snacks. The café drinks are way too expensive and even the water bottle is pricey; way to go education.

“Get whatever you like, I’m paying.” His words are smooth and for a second you believe him.

His body turns away from you, pretending as though he’s looking at the drink menu, you can clearly see that he’s checking his wallet. His shoulders visibly deflate and while you fake trying to pick something from the prepackaged area, you watch as he checks his account balance on his cell phone. His head seems to fall back irritatingly. It’s cute, he was trying so hard, but the world was being too cruel on him.

“Kuroo?” You call him. He’s slowly turning, hoping that he doesn’t have to take back his words. You wave him over to show the cheapest sandwich possible, “Want to split it with me?”

“You could get something better?” Kuroo tries looking at the other options, “What about a coffee?”

He was too sweet. You’re smiling, “Nah. I drank a lot last night so I don’t think coffee will sit well in my stomach and I’ve been meaning to go on a diet so if you take half my sandwich, it’ll be like I’m starting early.”

He’s still adamant on wanting to buy you something more expensive, “You could literally get this sub, it’s more filling and what do you mean diet, you’re literally perfect right now.”

A heavy blush appears on your cheeks, you slap his shoulder, pushing him by his back, “Just share a sandwich with me idiot.”

“But the sub.”

You’re kicking him in the ass, “Mention the sub one more time Kuroo, I swear to god I’ll leave you high and dry right now.”

You settle on seats by the window, you’re opening the packaged sandwich and in an attempt to stay cheap, Kuroo secretly stole cups while you distracted the cashier and he was grabbing water from the fountain.

“So.” Kuroo starts, “You haven’t read my application yet?”

You almost choke on your dry sandwich, “Must we talk about that now.”

Kuroo raises a finger, “You know what, I’ll just read it to you now.”

He was dead serious, pulling out his phone to bring up his pdf form. He was the absolute worst, yet it’s absolutely hilarious the way he fixes his clothing as if preparing for an interview.

“I’ll start with my letter of intent.”

You’re already giggling, trying to hide behind your sandwich.

“I am writing this to inform you of my interest for the position of Boyfriend. I have been highly interested in this position ever since you asked me for a pencil and then returned it back to me a week later, not realizing that you had given me a different pencil. I knew I liked you because of how cute you looked apologizing for not returning the pencil earlier.”

You never thought you could smile so wide before until this moment. Kuroo mimics your smile, looking back down to his phone.

“I don’t have a lot to offer but I can say with confidence that I can beat you at Mario Kart. I’ve been practicing and honing my skills for this moment; I heard that boyfriends need to be good at Mario Kart and if I am accepted for this position, please don’t fall for my best friend because he is better than me at Mario Kart.”

You snort, laughter emitting from your lips. You were on the verge of tears at how funny this application was.

“Lastly, we have similar taste in anime so obviously the 2d world also ships us.”

You hum at the last sentence, “Obviously.” You roll your eyes.

He sets his cell phone down, he’s finished his sandwich by now, practically inhaled it and he watches you eat your last bite. It’s a comfortable silence, really, maybe you were so caught up in the friendship that you had never gotten to think about him in a relationship sense.

“If you think about it.” He’s staring, “This is basically our first date.”

You choke on your water, coughing loudly and he finds your reaction funny. He’s patting your back and you feel so bad that you’re basically spitting on him.

“Kuroo.” You begin.

“Ah.” He knows where this is going. He waves a hand around, “You don’t have to give me an answer. Just.” He pauses, “Just consider me in the future.”

“Is that y/n I see?”

Your expression falters the moment you hear the voice of your biology lab partner, “Atsumu? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Atsumu chuckles, a hand over his heart at your jab, “So hurtful. My brother’s taking some business classes, I had to drop something off for him.” Atsumu makes eye contact with Kuroo, “Hope I’m not interrupting something.”

That was a lie, you can tell. His cheeky grin says that he was absolutely hoping that he was interrupting something. Kuroo seems to not mind, at least from what you can tell. But in his mind, it’s the same as when he had seen Akaashi; a competitor. Especially when you’re trying to shrug Atsumu’s arm off your shoulder, Atsumu pinched your cheek causing a tick to grow on your forehead.

“Kuroo Tetsuro.” He puts a hand out.

Atsumu smirks, gripping the male’s hand, “Miya Atsumu.”

There’s a strong way that they grip each other, their faces are smiling, but their grip is testing the other.

“Well.” Atsumu has a hand on the back of your seat, “We have biology in about fifteen minutes, we should probably head over there.” Atsumu grins to Kuroo, “We’re partners, I was hoping you could show me again how to use the microliter pipettes.”

“Again?” You eye him.

Atsumu has his hands in the air defensively, “It’s just so confusing. The lab manual doesn’t describe it well.” You miss the way he smirks from behind you, “And besides, I learn better with hands on education.”

Kuroo returns the smirk, “Your hand must hurt having to grow up teaching yourself.”

The sharp inhale of laughter you take when you’re drinking causes the water to come out your nose. You’re laughing, coughing, and your nose is burning. Kuroo is handing you napkins and Atsumu’s jaw clenches.

“I’m sorry.” You put a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder, “but that was really funny.” You pat his cheek when he pouts, “Let’s go, I’ll show you how to use the pipette before lab starts.” You turn to Kuroo, “I’ll see you later.”

Kuroo gives you a smile, “I’ll message you.”

Atsumu frowns, even as he walks away with you, he looks over his shoulder, chin lifted, attempting to display dominance even until the last moment.

#now accepting boyfriend applications #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #kuroo scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios

[badedramay]

Hey!!! Hope ur well. Sorry in advance if this is a lil irrelevant to ur blog but i was wondering if u have any study tips that work for u? I have serious procrastination problems and need to get my shit together this semester..thanks is advance if u choose to answer this ask 🥲

Oh, honey 🥲

tbh nothing worked better for me more than sheer panic. but that's literally the worst way to approach things! so here's what else worked for me.

turn off the damn devices.

seriously. turn off your phone and your wifi (if you are working on your computer and cannot part from it) for like an hour or so. and hide them. put them somewhere not easily accessible. then hit your books/notes. and study. out of sight, out of mind does work. and for however long is your study time..try to resist checking out the social media. the world doesn't end if you don't check updates for a few hours, trust me! but like don't completely go all strict on yourself. if you are at the beginning of the semester and not necessarily in exam season..allot a little bit of your time everyday away from devices and just with your books. start with half an hour and work your way up. by the time exam season come, you'd have trained yourself to sit still with studying without having the itch to get up.

there's a great episode in Kota Factory (S01E02) which i WISHED i had seen back when I was in my undergraduate where Jeetu tells a troubled Vaibhav that the only solution his problem is to stubbornly face them. it's a game of 21 days only. for 21 days just SIT everyday at a time with your books and notes without limiting yourself that you'll study only one topic. shuffle around..read new topics, study old ones..just don't get up from the chair. in 21 days a habit would be developed and it will help a LOT during exams season.

and for me the reward system stopped working when I was in school xD if it works for you..like the promise of a reward works as a motivation for you then that's great. but the best motivation for me is always, "man i'll be so fucking tired from all this grinding that i'll just hit the bed and sleep." that feeling of your aching back hitting the bed for me is just...bliss.

if you are having exam season and feel overwhelmed about the course...break it down. my biggest issue is starting. i never knew where to start. so I would take it real small. read the syllabus. take a topic and tackle it. keep it aside, take another. and so on and so forth. or if your university is anything like mine where your social skills played as much part in getting grades as did studying..get in touch with a friend who you know knows about the system of how exams are conducted and discuss any strategies or approaches. like me..i figured out which professor of mine wanted us to just write whatever they taught us in class so I only studied class notes and I knew which professor encouraged our own thinking so I put in more effort in those subjects. work smart!

when in doubt about any particular topic..reach out to your friends or classmates. don't hesitate in asking for help. i know there are loads of resources out there for us to use but it's always better to get help from someone who is sharing the class with you. chances are even if they don't know about something..they'll know someone who does. we are all connected in the sheer agony of surviving our student life :D

most importantly..know your peace hours. anyone who says there's only one most productive time to study is all bullcrap. every body functions differently. my most productive hours started from midnight because i got the most peace then. there's no disturbance..no distraction. you can have these hours in the early morning. or during the evening. or right after dinner. no one else but your body will tell you when it's at its most optimized state.

and I repeat - work smart! take one day of pain to really go through what your coursework is. then evaluate where you stand within your each subject. break each subject down to expectations. for example..I was always good at languages so I kept it very down on my priority list. history whopped my ass so I knew I had to give that more time. make a checklist of required notes. gather what you don't have. if they are in soft format..get them printed if holding a paper in your hands help you study better. otherwise don't. once you have neatly broken down each subject smaller packets..then it's all about taking one packet at a time and dealing with them. don't rush in blindly. really take your time and make a plan that works best for you!

hope it helps! all the best!! <3

#study tips #type: reply #anon #agony corner

[kindofinprogress]

What. A. Git.

Harry Potter fell in love at 18.

At least, that’s how old he was when he realized he was in love. He’d felt quite at home in this state so surely it must have happened when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps it happened when he was 16 and playing quidditch with her in the back garden of her home or later that year when an untamed amount of anger filled him at the sight of another boy near her in all the ways he’d wish he could be. Maybe it happened after their historic first kiss in front of 50 of their peers or the subsequent, equally as historic (although much more private), “walk” after said kiss. Maybe it was later, when he was 17, sometime in the nine grueling months he had to spend away from her- where all he could do was try and not think about how much he missed her. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right? Or, it could have happened the second, the very mind-clouding moment, that he got to hold her in his arms again after those nine months and the battle that ended the war in which he lost so much. But not her. She managed to come out on the other side and he couldn’t thank enough deities about it if he tried.

Whenever it was- he was sure he was fully, irrevocably, assuredly, enduringly, and all of the other painfully cliche words one could come up with, in love exactly one month after she left on a train for her last year of schooling.

Harry Potter was pitiful. That’s the word that Ron used, anyway. Well, if not being able to stand missing Ginny, his Ginny after the longest, grueling month of his life then that was fine. Alright, perhaps it was possible he’d had worse months so maybe he could tone down the dramatics. But, Harry rationalized, last year he had countless “worst” months- one right after the other in what at the time seemed like an endless string. And even back then he would have given up the world to be able to drop everything and get one good look at her. And he could do that now- quite easily and with a lot less at stake.

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It was after dinner at the Burrow where Harry sat in a room eating a delicious plate made by a stern and loving woman who’s laugh and annoyed tuts reminded him of his Ginny, sat next to a man with his Ginny’s wonderful curiosity, and surrounded by her brothers who had a mischievous edge to their jokes which only his Ginny could rival that he decided he would do just that. Drop everything and go see her- no matter how pathetic that made him in the eyes of his best mate.

Dinner was a more quiet affair these days. Spirits had livened up just enough at the end of September to where everyone could joke and ask each other about their days with genuine interest because they didn’t always end up back at sorrow-filled points but not enough that not at least one persons’ eyes welled up with tears by the end of the night. Or that someone had to excuse themselves when they almost mentioned Fred. But tonight, it wasn’t the collective longing for Fred to fill his seat at the dinner table or the mention of Teddy and the painful reminder that a 60-year-old woman and an 18-year-old man were now his main caretakers rather than his young and kind parents that created a knot in Harry’s throat. It was the mention of Ginny and the oh-how-busy-she-must-be fussing over her too-short letters home and her oh-so-important exams at the end of the year. After she came up Harry was in no mood to answer questions about his training, or if he and Ron would want the leftovers from tonights’ dinner, or to stay ‘round for after dinner drinks with the boys. Harry did stay, not from a lack of trying to leave though. Ron practically plucked him out of the floo and forced an ale into his palm. “Lighten up, we’ll see them at the end of October in Hogsmeade. No need to let a few miles soil our night.”

So, fine. Harry stayed and sulked over exactly one drink. He bid the clan of red-headed brothers goodnight while Ron went to the loo. Harry got home, put on his pajamas, washed his face and wrote a quick note to Ginny to meet him in the Shrieking Shack on the following night- October first. It was a Thursday and Harry figured it was too early in the year for any professors to be dishing out detentions to a castle full of grieving students and it wasn’t a special feast that night so the only thing that might get in his way would be Hermione’s time table.

The next morning, after about 5 more “you’re absolutely pitiful”’s from Ron, and a detailed description of exactly what he was to tell their training Auror his excuse for skiving off in the middle of a work week Harry set off for Hogwarts.

He arrived in town with enough time to stop by the Hog’s Head and grab dinner at the dusty bar and a quick conversation with the aloof Aberforth. The night’s air was well chilly as he made his way to the old, creaking shack and it wasn’t much better from inside. Harry made quick work to try and warm the place up with some charms but only managed to make it bearably stuffy before the door from the secret passage swung wide open and a red blur launched into his chest. Harry took in her flowery scent and dug his fingers into her hips bringing her as close as possible to him. Ginny looked up and met his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple and all-consuming. It made his mind swirl. When he finally broke it and got a good look at her face he couldn’t help the soppy grin that overtook his features. It was so easy to let the world melt away and feel so happy with his Ginny around.

“Hey, you. You didn't just come all the way here to stare at me all night did you? We have pictures for that sort of thing you know.”

“Sorry.” He blurted. “No, that’s not what I came for. But it is quite fun. Be quiet and give me about another minute, would you?”

“Harry!” She giggled and swat at his arm. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck before untangling herself from him. “Why did you come? Is everything alright?” Her expression softened with concern in a way that made her look so absolutely endearing Harry swept her up and rightfully snogged her. When they broke apart, panting and out of breath minutes later he apologized again. “Sorry- couldn’t help it.”

He gave her a sheepish smile suddenly feeling just as pathetic as Ron had painted him to be. “I just. Er- I missed you. Is all. And I- I just wanted to see you. Is that okay? I’m sorry, you didn’t have anything important going on did you? Practice? I don’t even bloody know when you practice and I just made you drop everything because I’m a pathetic sop. I’m sor-”

Ginny shut him up with one of those small pecks that took his breath and all coherent thoughts away. “You silly man. Of course it’s alright, Harry. It’s more than alright. I’ve missed you too. I do have to admit you made me nervous with that note. It didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, bugger. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it freaked Hermione out enough to let me off the hook from studying with her tonight. We’ve been going over the same bloody chapter all week, Harry! I know you warned me but Godric, Hermione is boring me to tears and I think she’s enjoying it!”

Harry laughed and they exchanged another small moment of pure bliss. She had a way of doing that, Harry noticed. Filling a moment with everything. Filling him to the brim with happiness in the most minute ways. In that moment Harry wondered if that’s what his father felt for his mother. Later, Harry would reason with himself that James must have- for if anything was worth falling in love and marrying a girl straight out of school in the middle of a war that that feeling -this feeling- must have been in.

“Please, do carry on about your wild school year full of studying and classes.”

“Oh, only if you promise to drone on about your stuffy old coworkers and shoes that pinch your toes.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I want to know everything. I know you don’t put it all in your letters. I can tell your hand gets cramped when your writing gets all crooked and starts leaning on its side- which happens in every letter so I know you haven’t included everything you’ve wanted to.”

So Ginny spent the next half hour telling Harry about everything she felt was too little to write in her letters. Truthfully, she thought they were too little to be mentioning now when they had such a short time together but he truly seemed to be enjoying the conversation so she kept on only so he would keep looking at her like that. Like she was enchanting and everything. Ginny got the sudden courage to do something she’d been terrified of for weeks. “I had my career meeting with McGonagall my first week.” Harry searched deep in his brain for something to say to that- try as he might he couldn’t think of any specifics to ask- surely she’d mentioned this to him before. It was one of the most important meetings 5th, 6th, and 7th years had yearly and Ginny must’ve- “I didn’t mention it before because what we talked about just kind of happened. I just blurted it out without meaning to and she encouraged me, Harry. Me! She really thinks I’m capable of it.” Ginny let anticipation hang in the air for a second- reveling in the way she had Harry’s undivided attention. “She’s getting scouts from all over to come watch me play! I’m going to play quidditch professionally, Harry! Well, maybe. I have to be impressive enough for them to actually offer anything but-”

“You’re going to be amazing, Gin. Those scouts won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Harry. I knew I was right to wait to tell you before anyone else.”

Harry’s heart swelled with pride. He felt like he’d won a prize at that. It was in that moment that Harry realized he needed this for the rest of his life. To be the first one she shared good news with, to never miss out on being her biggest supporter, to get to watch her smile like this. To be around for all things Ginny Weasley.

It was ridiculous, then, the thought that before this visit he hadn’t known he was in love with her. She was Ginny Weasley. Beautiful Ginny who had boys falling at her feet, kind Ginny who took care of everyone she came in contact with, brilliant Ginny who was quick as a whip, brave Ginny who fought in a war at age 16 and faced much darker still at age 11- his Ginny. His talented, talented Ginny who was going to be a professional athlete. How cool was that? She was so cool and brave- his Ginny. Just looking at her now, talking a mile a minute, blushing at the confession that she’d been worried about her family’s reaction to her decision- about his reaction, eliciting confidence- he knew he was head over heels in love. She deserved the world and Harry would do anything to be the one to personally hand it to her.

Harry spent a while celebrating with Ginny and reluctantly left her to go to bed -way past her curfew- after about her tenth yawn. With promises to write and see each other soon Harry left on his way home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

Harry had always thought when he felt love for the first time it would be a bit more climactic than this. But strangely, this felt much better than any notion of falling in love he’d built up in his head. This was easy… natural. Nothing dramatic or flashy just… just the sheer act of being with Ginny was enough. And he was so fine with that.

It wasn’t until much later- in the early hours of the morning when Harry was finally crawling into bed that he realized he hadn’t even told her he loved her. What. A. Git.

#hinny fluff #hinny #harry x ginny

[mister-supernova]

This Isn’t Goodbye

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

No one expected today to escalate the way it did. The Salvatore School had its fair share of chaos this entire year, and having a group of grown adults barge onto school grounds with guns and bark orders while treating supernatural kids like the scum of the Earth surprisingly wasn’t the worst thing that was going to happen to you today. 

Without the ability to access your powers, none of the students could defend themselves and there was no one else around to protect any of you. The members of the triad were ruthless and especially dangerous with their Malivore mud bullets that could poison any student who crossed the line. 

Unfortunately, you and Josie bit the end of one of those bullets. It wasn’t even supposed to hit you, but a shard managed to bounce off the floor and dig into your leg. 

At first, you didn’t know you were hit until you could feel your energy escaping you with every minute that passed. You thought that maybe you were just dehydrated, then you looked down and noticed the blood seeping through your jeans--your blood. 

Part of you didn’t know how you were able to stay on your feet while you, Hope, Lizzie, and Jo were forced to go into the werewolf holding cells in the basement. Lizzie was tending to Josie on one side of the cell on a cot while you and Hope were sat up against the wall on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n. I swear. Once we find a way to figure out what’s blocking our magic, we’ll get that out of you as quickly as possible.” Hope says, her voice wavering ever so slightly. It made you smile, hearing the big, brave, tribrid worry for you. 

When you first met Hope, you weren’t sure that she had any interest in you once so ever. She was the mysterious, martyr-complex heroine trying to find her purpose in the world. She never let herself get too close to anyone because of her fear of losing them. 

Like MG, you were Dr. Saltzman’s student assistant when it came to taming the out of control werewolves of the school, so you saw Hope more often than the other students did. It was probably two years ago--about a year after meeting Hope--that you guys spoke more than three words to each other. 

You made yourself comfortable around Hope fairly quickly after becoming friends. She would never say that you two became friends so fast, but you believe otherwise. 

Unlike the many other students who tried befriending Hope and ended up backing down on her due to the fact that she was very stubborn, you never gave up on her.

Instead, you continued to be your usual goofball self around her. You’d tell her one terrible joke every day and even though she acted like she loathed it, she always looked forward to hearing them.  

Sometimes you would catch her sitting alone at one of the tables in the library either reading for one of your classes or studying for an exam. You’d pull up a chair and sit right beside her, nearly talking her ear off for half an hour while she pretended not to listen when really she was taking in every detail. You knew this because you’d notice her smile softly from behind her book. 

The two of you grew close, but you never expected yourself to develop feelings for Hope that were deeper than friendship. You believe they started when she let herself really smile and laugh at your dumb jokes. Something about the way her eyes crinkled when she was really happy made your heart grow three sizes. 

You’ve made it a point throughout your friendship to tease Hope anytime you saw her show concern for you and your friends.

“Is this the Hope Mikaelson worrying about someone?” Your voice was already starting to sound groggy and you could feel the poison spreading up your body at a painfully slow pace, “You sure you weren’t shot, too?” You ask, feeling her head with the back of your hand which she quickly removes with her own, “You’re cute when you’re worried, Mikaelson.” 

“I can’t believe you're making a joke of this right now.” She tells you, not letting go of your hand. 

“Sorry. Would you prefer that I act out the excruciating pain this Malivore bullet is making me feel, instead? I could also make a list of every body part that feels like it’s on fire if you have the time.” The serious look in her eyes only made you smile more. You never let your sense of humor falter, even in your possible last moments. 

“Why do you always do that?” Hope wonders with a half-hearted chuckle as she shakes her head at you.

“Do what? Be unbelievably hilarious even though I’m on my way to my impending doom?” You hush your voice as low as possible so that Lizzie and Josie couldn’t hear you from the other side of the cell. As much as you enjoyed making a joke of this situation, you weren’t sure the twins would feel the same way.

“You just smile and act like everything is okay. Like you aren’t in any pain.” 

You in fact were in the worst pain of your life, but the last thing you were going to do was let her see that. The infection of the bullet had made its way to your lower back at this point and it felt worse than any other sort of pain you’d ever felt prior to this moment. 

Seriously, you’d rather shift into your werewolf form for the rest of the day than feel this bullet destroying you from the inside out. 

“Well, maybe--let’s say this situation goes sour and we can’t figure out how to get the evil mud out of my body--I don’t want you to see me in absolute agony and I don’t want that to be the last thing you remember about me.” 

Hope squeezes your hand, not even wanting to imagine how you must be feeling right now. 

You squeeze hers back, “But I know with you here, I’ll be okay no matter what happens.” 

Tears began to fill the bottom of her eyelids, making the usual spark in her blue eyes--that you also started to fall for--go dull. Seeing her on the verge of crying caused your smile to fade. 

She had lost so many people she cared about because of her and she didn’t want you to be the next. The thought of that hadn’t crossed your mind until now. 

“Hope, it’s going to be okay.” You tell her with the most assurance you could. You knew that the chances of you surviving this weren’t certain, but the last thing you wanted to see was Hope cry. The sight of that would be more painful than the bullet.  

She nods silently before leaning her forehead against your shoulder and squeezing your hand with all the strength she could muster. You squeezed back, assuring her that you still had a good amount of your own strength left. 

Then you pressed a kiss to the top of Hope’s head, “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper into her hair, “There isn’t anyone else I want listening to my stupid rants and laughing at my dumb jokes. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone else would.”

A small chuckle manages to escape the tribrid and when she looks back up at you, you can’t tell if she thinks you're the biggest idiot in the world or the greatest person to exist. You decided to go with the second one judging by the faint smile she was giving you. 

It wasn’t until a few seconds passed that you realized how close her face was to yours. Her nose could practically touch yours if you were to slightly rotate your head to the right. 

Super hearing or not, you were sure that everyone in the cell could hear how fast your heart was beating right now and it wasn’t because of the Malivore bullet. 

You glanced down at her lips for less than a second and that was all you needed to do to know that you really wanted to kiss Hope Mikaelson. It wasn’t like you haven’t wanted to in the past, but in this moment you thought that this could be your last chance.

“Hope, I-”

The moment vanished at the sound of a familiar vampire running towards your cell--MG. Josie remained on the bed while you, Lizzie and Hope talked with him from behind the bars that he had now unlocked. 

After being caught up on how his mother is an agent working for Triad and that there’s a terrifying bloody skull sculpture in the school tunnels that’s blocking off the witches’ magic, you looked over at Hope. 

“Looks like that’s your cue,” she looks at you and Josie, who is looking a lot paler than earlier, “The school needs you and so does Landon. Go be a hero, Mikaelson.” 

Hope gives you one last awed smile before taking a confident step towards you and gently pulling your neck down to meet her lips with yours. To catch yourself from falling forward in surprise, your hands find her waist and you let out a content sigh. 

For a moment, the pain from the Malivore bullet was long forgotten and all you had to focus on was the beautiful woman in front of you. You couldn’t care less that Lizzie, Josie, and MG were witnessing your first kiss with the tribrid. In your mind, they weren’t even there. For all you knew, it was just you and Hope in the world.

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to, but given that some of you were in a life or death situation, you thought maybe it was for the best. When Hope pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours while her fingers still traced along the back of your neck. 

“Now, you really better come back.” You say breathlessly, feeling another smile grow on your face. 

“You better be here when I do,” she whispers with a hint of seriousness in her voice. 

“Will I get another one of those if I am?” 

She smiles, taking a small step away from you, “We’ll see.”

~

this is my first time posting an imagine like this, so i hope you guys like it ;) i’m making this a little mini series (idk how many parts yet) but part 2 will be coming very soon! 

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson x reader #legacies imagine #legacies #legacies cw

[loveissupernatural]

                                         To Love in a Foreign Land

                                            Draco Malfoy x reader                                 

Chapter One: The Letter

[ Read Part 2 here ] 

The day had finally come.

It came in the flurry of an owl’s wings, in the nervous vibration of your sweaty palms.

A delicious breakfast had just been served by your mother that sunny summer morning in suburban America, your fourth term at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only recently finished. Loud, impatient tapping on the kitchen window glass made you choke on your coffee.

“Mom! Ch-check if it’s from H-Hogwarts!” you managed to cough, pointing frantically at the window. Your mother bolted out of her chair at the kitchen table so you can recover.

She squealed for you, letting the gorgeous but exhausted-looking owl into your kitchen as quickly as she could. It landed in front of you on the table, holding out its leg with what could only be described as relief. Your shaking hands untied the cream-colored envelope from the owl’s ankle, and as soon as you did, it fluttered to the large cage in the corner of the room. Your silver-grey owl, Cinna, hooted indignantly at the unexpected visitor that was gulping from her water bowl.

“Now, Cinna, be nice. He’s had a long journey,” your mother said, wagging her finger. Cinna would have rolled her eyes if she could.

“Mom,” you squeaked, “this is it, this has to be it. I’m finally gonna know.”

You’d decided halfway through your fourth year at Ilvermorny that you wanted to take part in the International Wizarding Student Exchange Program, or I.W.S.E.P. It was a decision that you didn’t make lightly – you’d discussed it at length with your teachers and with your mom. You loved Ilvermorny with all of your heart and soul, after all, it was your home. But you also knew that the world was much bigger, that there was so much in the wizarding world that you hadn’t seen and hadn’t experienced. As a newly 15 year-old, you felt somehow ready for things to change.

Of course, you didn’t want too much change, which is why Hogwarts was at the top of your list. Ilvermorny was modeled after it, and you didn’t have to worry about a language barrier. Hogwarts contained four houses, just like your school, and was a large castle in the middle of the mountains, just like yours. You were ready to experience new things and new people, in a new (but somewhat similar) place. You had roots there.

The Headmistress of Ilvermorny, Celestia Pukwould, had one final meeting with all prospective exchange students before the end of term. The day exams ended, you and a small group of upcoming fifth years were invited to her large study. She pressed the importance of upholding your school’s good reputation as you traveled, to be a shining example of what it was to learn magic from America’s impressive magical education system. Only one of your peers was requesting Hogwarts as their first choice too, a quiet girl that you hadn’t spoken to much over the years named Eleanor.

After the other potential exchange students left her office, Headmistress Pukwould requested for you and Eleanor to stay behind for a bit.

“Ladies, I have sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore himself expressing my full confidence in you two,” she had said, standing from her ornate high-back chair that sat in front of her fireplace. She twirled her wand between her long fingers absentmindedly, fixing you and Eleanor with a kind yet serious stare. “You two are some of the brightest witches in your class. I told him so. I have known Albus Dumbledore for many years, and he is by far one of the most talented wizards alive today. You would be very lucky to learn magic at his school.”

You and Eleanor nodded profusely, eyes wide. While Headmistress Pukwould was a kind woman, she was also not to be trifled with, and her word backing your acceptance at Hogwarts held much weight.

“Don’t disappoint me, ladies,” she said, the smile fading from her face. She tapped her wand on her nails once, sighed, then turned back to the fireplace. “Have a wonderful summer. Owls containing your acceptance or rejection should arrive to your homes within the next few weeks.”  Her tone was final. You were dismissed.

You flashed back to your bright kitchen, took a deep breath and let it back out in a shaking sigh. Your fingers gently traced the refined emerald green writing. You flipped the envelope over and touched the blood-red wax seal, the crest of Hogwarts. Your hands paused.

“Mom, what if I don’t get in?” You’d spoken your greatest fear aloud.

She smiled at you, almost a little sadly, and came to rest a hand on your shoulder and a kiss on your head. “They’d be idiots not to accept you, Y/N.”

“What do you think Dad would say? If they said no?” you all but whispered, a familiar ache rising in the back of your throat. Your father had attended Hogwarts over two decades ago before he moved to America and met your No-Maj mother.

Your mother wrapped her arms around you from behind, pressing her cheek to yours and rocking you gently.

“He would think they’re idiots, too, honey,” she said, a grin in her voice. Your father loved his alma mater, so to imagine him saying anything negative about the school was enough to make you laugh. But you knew she was right, your father had been your biggest fan.

“I miss him,” you said quietly. Your thumb ran over the wax seal again.

“I know, baby. I do too,” she whispered, kissing your cheek. “But he’d be so proud of you, no matter what that letter says. Okay?”

You nodded. You’d lost your father two years ago, but the wound still felt fresh most days. You’d be lying if you said that going to Hogwarts wasn’t an attempt to feel him again, in some form or fashion.

“Here goes nothing,” you breathed, slipping your finger underneath the sturdy paper and ripping it away from the seal. Your heart pounded in your ears like a bass drum as you pulled out the parchment, catching a glimpse of the neat scroll in the same dark green ink. Your mother’s hands tightened on your shoulders.

Dear Miss Y/N Y/L/N,

           We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

           All students accepted to our institution through the I.W.S.E.P. (International Wizarding Student Exchange Program) will be required to travel via portkey on the evening of 29 July. Upon arrival to London, arrangements will be made for you to stay in the Leaky Cauldron before gathering your supplies on 30 July. A representative from the school will assist you in procuring the necessary books and equipment for term, beginning 1 September. You will be expected to arrive at King’s Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾, no later than 09:00 AM on 31 July. Bring all necessary luggage and equipment.

           You will find an enclosed list of all required literature and materials for Year Five.

           We will expect an owl containing your confirmation no later than 20 July. We are honored to invite you into our sacred halls of magical learning.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

 You lowered the letter, disbelief coursing through your veins. It was real, truly real. You were now officially a Hogwarts student.

After at least a solid 20 minutes of dancing around the kitchen with your mother, you scribbled a quick confirmation and laid it by the feet of the tired Hogwarts owl.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to leave for another few days,” you said, answering the owl’s accusatory glare. He hooted ruefully and tucked his head underneath his large wing, ignoring Cinna’s still wary stare.

Your mother excused herself from the kitchen shortly after, attempting and failing to hide the proud tears in her eyes. You hugged the Hogwarts letter to your chest, breathing in the scent of the still stiff parchment. Slowly, you walked out to the empty living room and paced to the fireplace mantle that contained family portraits of all shapes and sizes, some moving in their frames and others standing still.

With tears tickling the corner of your eyes, you picked up your favorite picture of you and your dad. You were six years old, missing a tooth and laughing hysterically, while your father conjured glowing butterflies that danced around your head. The glow of his happy smile outshined those butterflies any day, you thought. You gently stroked his smiling face.

“Well, it’s official, Dad,” you whispered, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “I’m going to Hogwarts.”

                     ______________________________________

That summer passed more quickly than you would have ever expected. Your friends from Ilvermorny came to visit as often as possible, taking advantage of every moment they could grab with you before you left for an entire year. Many days were spent wandering nearby cities and towns, No-Maj and magical alike, with your school friends. You ate as many cliché American meals as you could and soaked up every drop of sunshine possible by the pool. You always looked better with a bit of a tan, and you doubted that you’d be getting much strong sun at Hogwarts.

“So, what House do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Eleanor asked you one afternoon. You’d invited her to stay a week with you and your mother in early July. You two would be the only Americans at Hogwarts in the upcoming year, and you both thought that building a friendship with one another would be nothing but beneficial. Being so far from home, you needed to have each other’s backs.

You were both sitting on the edge of the pool, drinking fresh lemonade and dangling your feet in the water. You took a long sip through your brightly colored straw.

“Good question,” you said, staring at the rippling blue water in thought. “I’ve heard rumors of what each house represents, but how true is it really? I mean, we know at Ilvermorny that more than one House can pick you, and that you can make the decision for yourself. Do you ever wonder if people pick the right one? Think it’s like that at Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know,” Eleanor said quietly. She seemed a little nervous at the thought. “What if we don’t get sorted at all? What if we’re too old?”

“I mean, surely that wouldn’t happen,” you tried to say confidently. “They wouldn’t subject us to public sorting if there was a chance of us getting rejected, right? Talk about embarrassing.”

“I’m sure you’ll get sorted,” she said with an admiring tone. “Everyone remembers what happened when you stepped up to the Knot on our first day.”

You remembered that day with a strange and heady combination of pride and trepidation. When you stepped up to the large Gordian Knot engraved into the shining marble floor of the circular sorting chamber, everything changed for you. For the first time in over a decade, all four large wooden carvings came to life, and the room went dead silent. You’d never felt so many eyes on you, boring into the back of your skull, wondering what made you so special and what House you would choose.

The gem set into the head of the Horned Serpent glowed, the Thunderbird beat its large wings, the Wampus roared and the Pukwudgie raised its arrow into the air. The carvings themselves seemed to stare a hole through you.

The four Ilvermorny Houses have been described as each representing a different part of the human being; Horned Serpent represents the mind and favors scholars; Wampus represents the body and favors warriors; Thunderbird represents the soul and favors adventurers; Pukwudgie represents the heart and favors healers.

You were overwhelmed in every sense of the word. At the small and awkward age of 11, you truly didn’t feel that well-rounded. You were certain that, somehow, these magical carvings had made a mistake.

“What made you choose Thunderbird, by the way?” Eleanor asked curiously, breaking you from your reverie.

“Honestly… I’m not totally sure,” you shrugged bashfully. Talking about this always made you uncomfortable. “Thunderbird is supposed to represent the soul, right? I guess I think that everything is rooted in the soul. We wouldn’t be human without them.”

Eleanor had been chosen by Horned Serpent, but nodded in agreement. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t know what I would have done if I were you.” She laughed a bit uneasily. “At least my choice was easy – I didn’t have one.”

In many ways, you found yourself wishing that only one carving had chosen you. Sure, it’s a bit less flattering, but much less stressful. The pressure of being that student, the once-in-a-decade student that was supposed to accomplish amazing things, was almost suffocating. As a child, you had a mountain of expectations piled on top of you from the moment those four carvings came to life. You couldn’t make a mistake.

In your second year, when your father died, so many of those expectations crushed you in a way that they never had before. His death weighed on you more than anything ever had, and the strength of his support was gone and left you breaking underneath the heavy cinderblocks of watchful eyes. Your grades suffered, and so did your relationships. You shut down.

Only when a year passed after your father’s death did you begin to find yourself again. With the help of your understanding teachers and a loving group of friends, you were able to establish a better academic standing within Ilvermorny. Not that anyone held your lapse against you – after all, you were a 12 year-old that had lost a parent. But you were still that kid, the one that all four Houses wanted, and you’d proven that you were far from perfect.

“What House do you want to be in at Hogwarts?” you asked Eleanor. She smiled, quiet in thought as she threw her brown hair into a messy ponytail.

“Really, I’d be happy with anything. But I’ve heard Ravenclaw is similar to Horned Serpent, academically focused and stuff.” She took a gulp of cold lemonade and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “What about you?”

“My dad was a Hufflepuff, so that would be nice I guess. I don’t know. Let’s just hope the Sorting Hat doesn’t explode,” you joked, setting aside your now empty glass. With that, you jumped into the chilly crystal water, letting it soothe your hot skin. Eleanor quickly followed.

You enjoyed the last inklings of summer vacation together before your new adventure began. You talked about missing friends and family, what Hogwarts would be like, whether or not you liked hot tea and what classes you would be taking. True to teen girl form, you were both excited to meet cute guys with foreign accents. And with a mix of thrill and nerves, you both realized that you two would be the foreign ones to them, and hoped that it would play in your favor.

“I wonder if British guys will think American girls are hot?” you asked her after the sun went down. You’d both climbed out of the pool at this point, your sun-kissed skin beginning to prune.

Eleanor laughed. “Geez, I hope so. Could you imagine getting a handsome British boyfriend? Talk about the adventure of a lifetime.”

You couldn’t deny that the thought of kissing a handsome boy with an attractive accent at the top of a castle turret excited you, but your mind always went back to connecting with the spirit of your father. Maybe you could feel closer to him there at Hogwarts, and would a boy distract you from getting that closure? You knew a boy would distract you from schoolwork, and you were determined to make such outstanding grades that Professor Dumbledore would have no choice but to write back to your Headmistress. After the academic crash and burn that was your second year, any and all glowing recommendations were not only welcome, but needed.

“It would be fun,” you giggled, wrapping yourself in your pool towel and squeezing the water out of your hair. “But wouldn’t it kinda suck when it’s all said and done? I mean, what if you got close to someone and then you have to leave to come back here?”

“I didn’t say we had to fall in love,” Eleanor shrugged. “I just want a hot piece of British ass.”

You busted out laughing. Eleanor always seemed so quiet at school, but once she got comfortable with you, she really came out of her shell.

“Come on, girls!” your mother called, sticking her head out of the back patio door. “Dinner is ready. I’ve got your salads on the table.”

You both trotted inside, whispering and giggling about the possibility of a grand foreign romance. After a pleasant dinner with your mother, you both went to bed, smelling of chlorine and sunlight.

Eleanor fell asleep before you did. You laid awake for a while, watching the shadows of swaying tree limbs dance across your ceiling. Your mind wandered back to the possibility of finding romance at Hogwarts. You doubted it would happen for you, especially since your priorities were elsewhere, but it wouldn’t be so bad to just dream about it, right?

You drifted into a deep sleep, flashes of colorful magic and the shadow of a boy dancing through your head.

[ Read Part 2 here ]

#harry potter #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #draco fanfiction #ilvermony school of witchcraft and wizardry #ilvermorny #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ilvermony houses #hogwarts houses #hufflepuff #forbidden love #foreign exchange #romance #hp fanfic #hp #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #tom felton #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #reader insert #harry potter reader insert #draco malfoy reader insert

[visionsdiary]

Professor

He was acting strange. The chores got down quicker than normal and he was almost a butler when it came to doing what was told. Something that his natural born mischief could not allow. 

It only all made sense when he brought a paper to Draco asking if he could sign in order to participate in the newest class that only fifth years and up are able to take. 

Spiritual Magic. 

It was talked about here and there. How a former Ravenclaw found a way to harness her magic without a wand. It was incredibly hard to master and dangerous to attempt - so much so that Draco didn’t want his son to attend such a class. It has only been too years since his beloved Astoria passed, the slight dullness in his eyes was noticeable and he has done everything to make sure his son is safe as well as happy. 

This could take a terrible toll on him that he might not come back from and will be damned if he signs his sons future away. 

“Scorpius we’ve talked about this.” 

“Father just listen, I passed the exam with flying colors to get into this class. I’ll be one of the first students in a revolutionary study. Please don’t take it away.” 

He begged for this. When he used words like that he couldn’t just say no. Still he rather not loose his son.

“You don’t know the outcome of this practice. I’m not going to send you to a class to be a test rat.” 

Draco set the signed document into the gradually rising stack of papers. He inherited his fathers business and is maintaining his own potions line. Still all of that important work didn’t compare to the importance of his son so he relaxed and leaned back in his office chair. 

“The trails were already ran prior to securing it as a class. It was 93.7% successful with no casualties.” 

“Yes because people left the trails when they woke up in a hospital bed.” 

“Well that’s just rubbish.” 

Draco almost laughed as his sons childish behavior. He hid his smile taking a moment to adore how handsome his son actually has become. He’s sport his platinum hair with his mothers sad yet determined eyes. The memory of Astoria begging him to come spend time with his son made his amusement fade. His mother had the same stare every time, sure that she would pull him out of work and into his family. Their son. He sighed knowing he’s lost. 

“Alright.” 

“Yes!” Scorpius thrust his fist in the air for his victory.

“But,”

Victory smile falls, “Dang it.” 

“I have to speak with this so called Professor.”

“Dad-”

“He has to understand the consequences of any potential harm to my son.”

“She is the one who request I join. I doubt she’ll allow harm befall me or anyone for that matter.”

“Your teacher is a women?” 

_______

She is a women. Its not unnatural of course and maybe it makes sense for it to be a women for Draco thought only a madman would research such a thing. Wands are essential to controlling a wizards powers, without them who knows what chaos could unfold.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

This is what played through his mind as he walked with his son to the classroom of this women professor. It was only a few days before school started so the hallways echoed with the clicks of Draco's shoes. His suit was clean cut and his usual black. His sleeves were rolled up a bit and he held his jacket in one hand the heat already getting to him. He was already in a rush and the fast walking did not help very much. 

“Father.”

“Not now Scorpius we have to hurry I have some business to attend to soon.” 

“But father.” Scorpius griped his wrist. Draco flinched for a moment, being back in these hallways with the memories he tried to keep at bay he wanted to get out of here and soon. He stops before looking to his son whom is almost as tall as himself. 

“We past the door.” 

His tense shoulders relax, “Oh.” 

They turn back walking just a few ways back down before knocking on the door. 

a muffled, “Come in” sounded through and in they went. The classroom was big, no tables but some chair laying about. There was stairs leading up to a stage with a chalk board, books, and a desk where a women stood over her back facing the two. 

A window was on the upper right wall shining perfectly down flooding the classroom with a crisp morning dew. 

“Are you Ms. Wells?” She turned around her soft material midnight blue blouse moving with her, It was neatly tucked into her black slacks and he heels clicked bouncing the sound off the walls. He hair was dark brown and thick curls but her eyes were an almost unnatural honey. She was absolutely breath taking. 

How did I not notice you? He thought, Perhaps I was just to caught up in my arrogance.

“Yes that’s me.” 

He cleared his throat. It’s not the first time He’s seen a beautiful women before and also won’t be the last but the way the sun seems to make her glow left his speechless. She walked down the steps with a smile. 

“Scorpius, Lovely to see you again.” She shook his sons hand before turning her attention to him. 

“Draco Malfoy. It’s been a while.” They shook hands. Her hand was soft but her grip was sure.  Her smile wasn’t helping his case as he fumbled with his words for a moment. 

“I’d say the same but I do not believe we’ve spoken before.” 

“I suppose not. What can I do for you?” 

“Scorpius, wait outside alright?” 

“But-”

“No buts Scorpius.” Draco gave him a look. One Scorpius was very much familiar with. Without another word he stalked off, closing the door behind him. Once the clang of the door sounded Draco turned back to face the Professor. 

“So I looked into your practice. I’m sure you can understand my concern.” They both took a seat, pulling up a chair. 

“I do. Trust me the process wasn’t easy on me either. I won’t lie to you Mr. Malfoy there are some potential dangers but not in an extreme way. He might feel tired at times since our bodies are so used to exerting power through our wands and not our actual bodies. He might have to take a rest day but I assure you that the process is slow. 

He wouldn’t have a paper if he couldn’t pass the exertion test.” 

“Your practice is interesting and my son has taking a liking to it. I would love for him to master any study, I was told you are the one who requested he’d join.” 

She nods, “I was. He is a extremely bright boy and his chances at mastering this is so high. I would be very disappointed if you wouldn’t allow him to at least try.” 

Draco nods thinking about this in his mind. 

“I’m willing to sign the paper. I trust though that you understand if any harm befalls my son consequences I deem worthy will be given.” 

His face was serious and part of her was to crawl in a corner in hide from his intense stare. He’s a Malfoy. He inherited riches and created triple the amount in a span of just a few years. He powerful in wealth, contacts and magic so despite her calm exterior she trembled on the inside. 

Same old Malfoy making threats, only this time he can actually back it up. She thought. 

“Of course.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as terrified as she was. 

She took in his stormy eyes and longer platinum hair, he had a after shave to match which only made him look more handsome. He grew up even better. The intense stare stayed for a moment. 

“Good.” He takes out the small packet that needs his signature. “I will be checking in on his progress every other week as well as his health. Take care of my son will you?” He signed the paper and handed it to Professor Wells. Her fingers only slightly brushing his warm ones. 

“I take care of all my students.” With that he shook her hand again holding on a little longer than needed before leaving. 

He was happy to tell the news to Scorpius, and the feeling only grew when his son hugged him with the biggest smile. It was something he wanted from his own father, and was glad that he had it with his son.

#draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #harry potter #fanfic #draco malfoy #first time writer #oof

[91percentpynch]

Why do you only call me when you‘re high? - a kevaaron au

this is the second part of my kevaaron au,,, you can find part one here this one‘s out of aaron‘s point of view, i hope you enjoy it <33 get your tissues ready, this one‘s rather sad:) and trigger warnings: mention of drug abuse and homophobia,,, also sorry this one‘s rather short? i still hope you guys enjoy it!!

check this out to find the other parts:)

Every single day he called him. At two in the morning. High and honest. Every single day he told him he loved him. Every single day he got ignored.

He stopped counting the days after a month, or two. It was hard for Aaron to tell apart the days that passed where smaragd eyes weren’t the first thing he saw in the morning. It was just a blur of studying, getting high, calling him.

Aaron never was someone who believed in love. Or fate. Or destiny. He wasn’t exactly a person who believed in much. Or something at all.

The only reason he ever believed in himself were smaragd green eyes looking at him as he could make it, a rare half smile when he aced an exam, the laughter when he made stupid science jokes. But he lost those things. Lost those things because all he knew was how to lie, how to fake, how to push away.

“Love is meant to be felt between men and women” his mother used to say. And he knew better than to disagree. Knew better than to question the words she said or decisions she made. At the end of the day it was always “Believe her or feel her anger” and out of these two options believing her felt so much easier.

Aaron remembered the day he fell in love with Kevin Day on these lonely nights. When the moon greeted the lover he could never have, like he himself. It was not easy, it was messy and chaotic and rough. But how could the sin ever be easy? How could falling in love with God’s favourite fallen angle ever be anything else than messy and rough? Falling in love with Kevin Day was one of the hardest things he has ever done, yet it was the best decision he ever made. It were the small moments, stolen glance, forbidden touches that made his heart yearn the other boy’s presence.

Thinking back Aaron knew he made a mistake. Thinking back Aaron has always known he would never love anyone like he loved Kevin. But thinking back that way was something he didn’t exactly enjoy doing. Something he needed himself stop doing. Something he cannot do as it is wrong and unnatural. But if it’s unnatural and wrong, how did it make him feel so good? How did it make him feel like he was high? Without these terrible pills, without the weed he needed to fall asleep on his own?

It’s this high he misses the most. The smell of sweat and freedom. Smaragd eyes on him, sparkling as if he were the personification of Exy. It’s the feeling of being free, of the pain going numb, away even.

At two am, when he allowed himself a drag on his joint. When he allowed himself to swallow some of the funny looking pills. When the pain went numb and his mind was clear when Aaron allowed himself to think. To think about Kevin. To remember his laugh, a sound like a choir of angels singing. His smile so bright it made the sun jealous for its brightness. His eyes clear and sparkling when he talked about history. His back against his chest, steady breathing, soft hands above his own.

It’s at two am that he let’s himself remember the stolen kisses in between classes. Their study sessions which would more often end up in a make up session in a hidden corner of the library. Aaron lets himself remember the hugs from behind, a head resting on his own telling him how beautiful he is. It’s when he gets the hoodie out of his closet. Faded orange with a 02 Day on it. The smell of Kevin long gone, but if he tries hard enough he can still smell the ghost of the striker on it.

It’s those late nights he will wear the hoodie, smoking, getting his phone out and dialing the number as if he was on autopilot.

“This is the voice message of Kevin Day. You know what to do?”

“It’s Aaron. Again. Remember when I asked you on our first date. Or was that you? Anyways we went to the watch the sunset. All pretty fucking romantic. But all I could really think of was how the stupid ass sunset made your hair look so ridicously beautiful. As if you weren’t already beautiful enough, asshole. I miss your stupid voice. I miss your stupid face. I miss your stupid lips on me. Please come back to me”

It was the same as always. Really. Every single fucking day Aaron would tell Kevin about a date they once had. Every single fucking day Aaron would tell Kevin that he missed him, that he should come back.

“Come back”, he would whisper to himself laughing hysterically. “You left him you fucking moron”

And at those late nights he would often ask himself why the fuck he left the best thing he had in his miserable life. Was it the inner voice telling him how wrong it was? Was he just unable to love? Was he unable to feel happiness and accept it? He had yet to find an answer to that question.

Another starless night, another black hole of a day, another joint, another trembling hand dialing the number. But this day should be different than the rest. This day Kevin should take the call.

The line was silent. Aaron could only hear his breathing. Even, but not calm.

“What keeps you up at night?”, Aaron would as after what feels like an eternity. It could only have been seconds or minutes, maybe an hour, maybe not.

“The thought that I was stupid enough to believe you would stay”, said Kevin’s husky voice. The voice after he cried or just got up.

“Please tell me you just woke up”, Aaron whispered knowing the answer would not like the answer he would get

“Why the fuck would i get up at 2 am, just because my stupid phone rings every single fucking day which would remind me of you and only throw me deeper into this fucking black hole. Tell me. C’mon, what have I done this time? Why do you only call me when you’re high Aaron?”

"Because it's easier to be honest when it's two a.m. And I'm alone in my room with a bit of weed. It's easier to accept that I love you and that i made the biggest mistake in my life by ever thinking I could live without you. Because I only ever get high when I miss you by my side. Because accepting the fact that I love you, with every inch of my being, is easier when the pain is numb and the voices are quiet. Because I miss you and I can only accept that I fucked up when I‘m high or else it will drive me mad"

“Does it bring you joy to break my heart Aaron? Tell me, do you enjoy putting me through pain? Your lies are like little knives cutting through my heart, as viciously like the ones Riko dragged down Jean’s rips as a punishment for my mistakes. Please, just. Don’t. I get it. I wasn’t good enough for you. But this has to stop. It won’t help. It will just make things worse for me. It was just a little game for you, nothing serious. Probably a lot of fun seeing how fucking stupid I was. Did you tell Katelyn? Did you two laugh about my stupidity? My nativity? Don’t bother answering that, I want a bit of my dignity. Some of my heart to remain unbroken, so it can beat a little longer. Maybe even long enough to get over you. So please, just. Stop ”

Aaron might not be able to see the tears running down the once so beautiful cheeks, the sparkle in the smaragd eyes dying with each word, but he could hear it in the way the voice broke off, the sobs that escaped his mouth, the Irish accent that got thicker when Kevin was emotional or sad or upset. Before he could answer Kevin was gone.

“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #kevaaron #ship: kevaaron

[waynewifey]

A dream of you and me—

soulmate!au

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: In a world where a dream means something more, trying to save the boy from your dreams can change your life.

Warnings: angst, crying

Words: 1900.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback on my last fic! I’m sorry it took me so long to comeback, please remember that my requests are always open! I hope you like this.

I've always liked dreaming. It's the moment of the day where I'm taken to a random place with random people to live a priceless adventure. Tonight I dreamed with a boy. Well, I was the boy. We were running through the Hogwarts corridors, but somehow no one saw us. It was like we were invisible. We ran up to the bridge, staring at the moonlight. He was sad for an unknown reason, I could feel it. I saw his black locks blocking the vision when it winded. I've never seen his face before, but, somehow, he felt like... home. He let out a deep breath and I heard some footsteps approaching. Suddenly, the image became blurred. I let out a gasp, waking up. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, before opening my curtains, looking around and noticing it was still night. I got up and walked to the biggest window in the room. The moon looked exactly like the one in my dream. Maybe it is happening right now, I thought. But that was impossible. Well, not really impossible, more like improbable. The soulmate link was a very rare occasion. One would dream about the day or the moment the other were living for days or years, until they meet and recognise each other as soulmates. But they wouldn't see faces or hear voices, so that turned the meeting more difficult and rare. I've never met soulmates beside the ones in fantasy books.

The morning after, I woke up earlier than usual, as I could barely sleep. I got ready quickly and ran to the Great Hall. I was looking for someone who looked like they haven't slept properly, someone who may be up all night. But, to be honest, all seventh graders looked almost dead, thanks to the exams. A red head sat beside me, putting some books on the table.

"I have something to tell you." I immediately said.

"Not even a 'Good Morning'? Fine then. What is it?" Lily Evans replied. I rolled my eyes at her, beginning to speak.

"I dreamt with someone. I know it's rare but I really think it may be... that." She looked disinterested, picking her food. "Lily, I'm serious! It felt so real! And I could feel his feelings too! What should I do?"

"There's nothing to do yet, I guess. You'll have to keep dreaming and collecting clues. But maybe you could forget about it and help me with my charms assignments." She bit a piece of bread and I gave her an yellow smile. By the corner of the eye, I saw a group of boys approaching.

"Or you could ask your pain in the ass boyfriend." She scoffed, turning around and smiling at James Potter, whom were now sitting beside her, embracing her back with his arm and laughing loudly about something I didn't knew. Remus Lupin sat on my side, as usual. He was the only tolerable one in the group. He often helped me with my studies, but our relationship was very far from a friendship. Other two boys sat in front of us.

The day went by normally. Too many classes for my last two neurones. I was exited to go to my dorm and sleep, to test my theory.

I could see the dark sky and the Whomping Willow. A rat ran to the roots of the tree and pressed a small knot. The tree stoped moving. We dove into a hole next to it. After a long time walking inside of a tight tunnel, we arrived at the gardens of a house. The Shrinking Shack?! What is he doing here? We entered the house and walked to what looked like a living room. I watched as a gigantic creature approached. Some kind of wolf, but it was standing in two legs. It's arms were thin. It was looking a bit... tired? I analysed the beast carefully. A werewolf! Why was he around that monster? He was in danger!

I jumped out of  bed, running to get my robe and my wand. I left the dorms, running to the Castle Grounds. The wind was extremely cold, but I kept running. I searched for the knot on the Whomping Willow. After a few times being thrown in the air by the tree, I finally got to the secret hole. It seemed like it took me forever to get to the house. I heard a howl and a growl, which made me desperate to find my soulmate. Would he even be alive by now? I came across a bizarre scene. A werewolf, a huge black dog, a stag and a mouse – the mouse in my dreams – all laying on the floor. The werewolf turned its head to me, growling at me. The dog jumped, getting in front of me. Where was my soulmate? The werewolf tried to attack me, but the stag got on its way. They were protecting me? Why? The dog barked at me, getting my attention. He ran to the exit door, turning his head back at me, as if he were calling me. I followed him. I ran to the gardens, but the dog was gone. Suddenly, a boy came out of behind a tree, wearing a black fur robe. I annalized his face in the moonlight. I recognised his black locks from my dreams. Sirius Black.

"What are you doing here? You need to go back to the castle right now." He said, eyes not focusing on me and ears on alert, still taking care of whatever was happening in the house.

"What are YOU doing here?! Did you know that is not a regular wolf, but a werewolf?! And if it bites you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now, you. Leave." He cut my speech, making me roll my eyes.

"I can't let you die! Every night I have these dreams, you're always getting yourself in trouble and-"

"You dream with me? You saw Moony?"

"Yes, Black, keep track. Stop interrupting me. Wait, who's Moony?" Sirius looked around, getting closer and lowering his voice, like he was about to tell me a secret.

"Remus Lupin. He's a werewolf. The stag is James Potter. I'm not sure if you've seen it, but the rat is Peter Pettigrew and... I'm the dog. Yeah, yeah, woof. We're animagus. Remus is under control... well, kind of. But it's still not safe for you and I need to take you back to the castle." I was stunned when he grabbed me by the elbow and made me walk all the way back. My thoughts wouldn't process, my mind was a mess.

"You're supposed to drink the tea, not stare at it, you know?" Sirius said, his voice echoing in the empty common room. I blinked for the first time in a while. I took a last look at my teacup, glancing upwards. I stared at his obsidian orbits, frowning my eyebrows trying to figure out what to say. Sirius Black was my soulmate. This guy I've never really talked to before, whom I know practically nothing about, and now I discover he's an illegal animagus, friends with a werewolf and will probably reject me so badly the angels will pity and and let me escape from hell. Because I made it quite obvious by telling him about my dreams, and he ignored it.

"I dreamt about you, you know what this means, right?" I couldn't keep the eye contact for long and quickly went back to staring at my tea. I moved in the couch to a more closed posture.

"Yeah, I understand it just fine." He said. I couldn't figure out his emotions by the tone of his voice, so I looked at him. His expression was as neutral as his tone, not helping me at all.

"Oh, okay. I wasn't expecting this." I rested my cup on the coffee table in front of us, getting up. I felt a slight spark of anger inside of me, starting to burn everything. He scoffed, leaning back on the chair. "Well I don't like that either! It's just- It seems unfair to condemn me to literal hell just because you're not happy about me being your soulmate!" The words bursted out of my mouth without a previous warning, tears forming in my eyes. I had waited for so long to see if I had a soulmate and he just scorn me like that? "I'm sorry if I'm not what you expected, but this isn't my fault!" I blubbered, gathering all the small amount strength that kept me on foot to turn around and walk away. But before I could do so, his arms embraced me in a harm and desperate hug. The smell of his hair made me dizzy, and I could honestly live there.

"I never believed in this. I never thought fate would bring someone to keep company to a person like me but- seeing you cry made my heart ache... So please stay. I don't care if we're soulmates or not, I just... need you here."

Epilogue — 3 years later.

I finished mixing the coffee and placed it at the silver tray. I took a final look: scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, and bangers — it all looked delicious. Not the kind of thing I was used to do, but I definitely am good at it. I walked to our room and opened the door. He was in the same place he was when I left earlier: the bed. I put the tray on the nightstand, preparing myself to wake him up. I sat beside him, staring at his unique features. The sunlight coming through the curtains lightened his nude torso and I got myself admiring his skin.

“Breakfast in bed? Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” His husky morning voice, massaged my ears. “Fiancée, actually.”

“Well, I thought this was a great way to celebrate your first day of work and our three year anniversary.” I kissed the top of his head as my hands danced around on his curls. “But don’t get used to it, you’re the cooker in this relationship.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N Black.” I stared down at his face. The same face of the boy I fell in love with, a long time ago, and I remembered the first time we kissed through sobs and hugs. This was when I realised I loved Sirius Black more than anything in the world and I knew we were forever. I smiled at him and kissed him passionately.

“I love you too.” He smiled widely at me and pulled me to under the sheets, throwing my apron across the room. “You’ll be late, Siri.” Sirius rolled his eyes at me and got on top of me.

“I have more important matters to deal with right now.”

#fluff imagine #harry potter imagines #sirius black x yn #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius angst #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #sirius imagine #soulmates #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders imagine

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin (3.1)🌪

pairing: soobin x reader genre: au  word count; 3k

“wow, you’ve really been studying a lot haven’t you?”. you say, seeing soobin’s notebook splayed out on the bed filled with notes that you had no supervision on. you were shocked to know that he took the time to study by himself. he was really taking things seriously. soobin nods, 

“i want to pass”. 

“it sure looks like it. you’re going to do more than pass with all this knowledge”. 

soobin laughs, “good. maybe I’ll earn the ski trip”. 

“ski trip?”. you question, having absolutely no clue as to what he was referring to. 

“yeonjun told me that everyone who does good on the exams earns a ski trip as an incentive”. 

you were kind of amazed, “wow. that sounds fun. when did our school start doing stuff like that? they must really want us to pass”. 

“definitely. and I think if everyone doesn’t do well the school’s going to be shut down. so I already know my parents are to blame”. 

you roll your eyes and smile a bit, writing down your chemistry notes to study. “must be nice having money”. 

“stop saying that. you have money too now”. 

“really? where?”. 

“right here”. 

you shake your head and laugh. soobin eyes you before going back to write his notes. 

“seriously why don’t you ask me for money? you never ask”. 

“you want me to?”.

soobin nods as if it were a stupid question. “yes”. 

“why?”. 

“because why not? I think every boyfriend does”.

“I love how you just call yourself my boyfriend in front of my mom and now that counts as us being an official couple”. 

soobin laughs and takes your hand. you look at him like he was the biggest joke in the world. “what are you doing?”. you say trying not to laugh. soobin was holding in laughter also while attempting to look at you seriously in your eyes. 

“do you want to be my girlfriend?”.

“i hate you soobin”. you laugh. 

“I’m serious I’m serious stop making me laugh”. 

you roll your eyes playfully. “fine. I guess I can be your girlfriend”. 

“good. are we an official couple now?”. 

you sigh scrawling your pen against your paper pretending to be frustrated. “I guess we are an official couple now soobin”. 

“you’re always trying to act like you don’t like me”. soobin laughs again, flipping his notebook page to finish the rest of the notes on the backside. 

“because if i act like I’m in love with you then things will be cringy”.

soobin lays his head on his hand, staring at you. 

“are you in love with me?”. 

you try not to blush. keeping your eyes on your own paper. his stare was eating you alive. 

“of course not”. you mumble jokingly. soobin chuckles. 

“your first time lying to me and this is what you waste it on?”.

you continue laughing leaving his rhetorical question floating in the air. he was still staring at you lovingly. 

“tell me the truth. because I’m in love with you. and I’m not afraid to admit it”.

“why are you in love with me? I’m not shaming you I just kind of find it odd--I’m just a church girl. living a normal middle class teenage catholic life. there’s nothing special about me. and here you are every girl’s dream. you’re rich. good looking. everyone wants to be you. why me? I’m nothing”.

“do you really think I can fall in love with someone whose nothing?”. 

you sigh. “I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. I’m scared of getting my hopes up and then one day you just leave. there’s so many girls out there that’s better. look better and dress better. and you can get with every single one of them if you wanted”. you ranted and you didn’t mean to take it this far but it’s honestly how you felt. you couldn’t help it. 

soobin presses his warm hand against your cheek. “why are you getting so upset, princess?”. 

“I don’t know”. you utter being swarmed in a sea of vulnerability. 

“I’m not going to leave you. and if I did who would I even leave you for? some girl who only wants sex and clout from me?”.

“what about the ones who are looking for a relationship?”.

“I’m too in love to care”. 

you sigh again, giving him pitiful eyes. being the cheesy person he was leans in and kisses you. that didn’t stop you from liking it though. 

“I only want you i swear. now please admit to being in love with me because I’m tired of waiting for your answer”. soobin says gradually laughing. you smile a bit breaking out of your sadness. his reassurance was what you needed. to be this deep into a relationship and him leaving you? it was your biggest fear. 

“I may or may not be”. you joked. soobin sucks his teeth playfully. 

“fine don’t admit it then. guess you won’t be getting a car for Christmas”. 

“soobin?”. 

“yes?”. he grinned while continuing his notes, knowing he caught you by surprise there. 

“a car?!”. 

“you heard me”. 

“don’t buy me that it’s way too expensive”.

“i’m totally going to obey your command”. 

“soobin I’m serious”. 

“so am I”. 

“how am I even going to explain that to my parents? they’re going to think I did something for it”. 

“something like what?”. soobin asks knowing exactly what you were getting at. 

“you know. they’re going to think I had sex with you or something for you to buy me such expensive gifts”. soobin waited and laughed once you finally said it. 

“that’s hot. they think you’re like a little churchy prostitute”. you childishly punch his arm. “that’s hot to you?”. 

“if it’s you doing it then yes”. 

“how is having sex with someone for gifts and money hot?”.

“I just like the idea of you being a whore for me”.

you laugh, wondering what else went on in soobin’s mind. 

“you know--like the outfit you wore when you came over my house for the first time--god i wanted to devour you”. 

“oh yeah? why didn’t you say anything?”.

“because you were most likely going to punch me. you didn’t know me yet”. 

“I still don’t. I’m still learning”. 

yeah, but you know enough about me now”. 

“I wouldn’t say all that. how do I know you’re not some serial killer deep down?”. 

“you sat on my face last night I’m pretty sure that whole ‘secretly a serial killer’ bullshit is out the window at this point”. 

you laugh loudly, “soobin!”. 

“you also didn’t call me soobin you called me daddy”. 

“alright that’s enough!”. the both of you laugh in perfect sync. interrupting it was his mother obnoxiously calling him from downstairs. soobin promises you his return before he goes to stand at the top of the stairs answering her. 

“yes?”. he says kind of annoyed. 

“me and your father have a conference to attend. our flight leaves soon. if I come back and find out you’ve studied nothing words can’t explain your punishment. don’t just sit around this house making nothing of yourself”. 

soobin rolls his eyes, “where is your conference being held?”.

“france”.

“for how long this time?”. 

“why are you asking meaningless questions? did you hear what I said?”.

“it’s not meaningless if you guys just came back and spent less than 8 hours in the house with me before you leave again”. 

“soobin don’t start. we’re leaders and we are also missionaries. you know what is required of us”. 

“what about me?”. 

“what about you? study and make yourself useful for something soobin. we were glad finally seeing you out with the sports team and doing things that don’t require a suspension”. 

soobin’s breathing pattern changes swiftly. he could hear the nonchalantness in her tone and he hated it with a passion. 

“study and make myself useful and then what? so you both can come home and beat me and yell at me anyways?”. 

his fathers enters the foyer pointing his finger up at soobin. 

“watch your volume”. 

“for what! for what whose going to hear me?”. 

“for respect soobin! don’t make me come up these stairs”. his father threatens. 

“why should I respect you both if you guys barely respect me?!”. 

“what are you talking about you have a house to live in don’t you? you have cars you have nice clothes you have gourmet food to eat and your bank account surpasses any number of ever seen in my life. you have nothing to complain about you need to be grateful!”. his mother spat. 

“yes you’re right thank you mom thank you dad for subtracting the parental love I could’ve gotten in my life and supplementing it with material things! I appreciate it so much!”.

“what did I tell you about saying that? huh?! we love you. this is tough love”. his father replies. soobin ball his fists. 

“that’s bullshit you’re only saying that because you don’t want anyone in this town to know that the two people they respect so much don’t give a damn about their son! half the shit that you do you only do it so I can never say that I don’t have anything”.

“soobin watch your mouth!”. he father growls. 

“it’s true just fucking admit it and stop getting angry!”

soobin spat harshly and his dad was about to take off up the stairs in a fit of rage until his mother pulled him back. 

“our flight leaves in less than a half hour we have to be at the airport. we can deal with him later”. his dad nods and points his finger at soobin again. 

“consider yourself lucky”. he stated before clutching his suitcase. his mom clutches hers and they both approach the door. she shoots a disgusting look at him. 

“maybe this getaway will help you clean up your act”. she muttered and closed the door behind him.

“What about me!?”. soobin stands at the top of the stairs still yelling.

“your getaways don’t help! they never fucking did!”. he could feel his heart racing and his cheeks growing hot.

“just say you don’t really love me. thats all you have to do”. he croaks without even realizing he was crying. 

you’d been in his room overhearing the whole argument but unable to come out due to you not supposed to even being there in the first place. so you kept silent until you heard the front door shut. you snuck out of soobin’s bedroom to see him down the hallway still yelling, so it was hard to tell if it’s parents really left or not. you approach his tall frame timidly, touching his shoulder. 

“soobin?”. he palms his face sniffling. you wrap your arms around his torso and glance up at him. 

“it’s going to be okay alright? they don’t deserve you. you’ve made mistakes in your life and sure you weren’t the best behaved kid but you are still theirs and they should treat you as such”. 

“I hate them. I fucking hate them both”. 

“soobin don’t say that”. 

“I will say it. because they don’t care about me”.

“look at me”. 

soobin sighs, removing his hands from his wet eyes to glare down at you. he looked so miserable when he cried and you hated it. you’d only ever like to see him happy and laughing. this was cruel. 

“I’m in love with you, okay?”. you say, reaching up to help him dry his eyes. 

“do you mean that?”. he replies. 

“yes I do mean it”. 

“good because I fucking knew it”. soobin admits with a straight face until you playfully slap his chest and laugh. it was a relief to see his reddened face contort into a smile. 

╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱

“babe! hurry up!”. soobin yells from the living room couch. he had the movie ready and he was just waiting for you to cuddle with him. you figured you couldn’t leave him alone while he felt like this. so you gave your parents your usual excuse for being out so late. 

you promised soobin you’d do anything to help him feel better and guess what he requested? you guessed it. 

four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches specially made by you. and of course the big baby was being impatient. you rushed and slabbed the layer of peanut butter on the last slice and sat all the sandwiches on the plate. 

you carefully walked into the living room with it and soobin started the movie. you sat criss-crossed between his legs on the couch, trying to hand the plate off to him. 

“feed me”, he begs. you turn your body and face him. “you’re a big baby do you know that?”. soobin smirks knowingly. you rip a piece of one sandwich and hold it up to his lips which he munches on adorably. you feed him a few more pieces and watch the crumbs fall from his lips. 

“you’re the only person I know that can get fed and still make a mess”. you use a hand to dust the crumbs off of his lips and hoodie. 

“you’re such a mom”. 

“and you’re such a baby”. 

“your baby right?”. you sigh trying not to blush once again. 

“cmon. it’s okay to admit it”. 

“I’m not going to make things cringy soobin”. you mumble and he immediately tackles you down on the couch playfully. 

“soobin you’re going to make me drop all of these sandwiches on the floor!”. you laugh.

“admit I’m your baby”. he laughs. 

he face was inches from yours. he looked so cute and cuddly in his big sweater and hood over his head. you pulled one of his drawstrings. 

“fine. you’re my baby”. soobin smiles and softly kisses you. 

“you forgot to get me something to drink with my food. I’m going to suffocate from this peanut butter”. 

you laugh, “you didn’t ask for anything to drink”. 

“I know. I should’ve asked for milk”.

“see, that’s your mistake not mine”. 

soobin thinks for a moment before grinning. “i mean--if i wanted some milk I can just--”. he interrupted himself just to snake his hand up your shirt and massage your boob. you cackled loudly. 

“soobin!”. 

and your mornings were usual. this time around though you were encouraging soobin. he’d be taking his first history exam today. 

“remember you got this. you are smart. you can do anything and you studied really hard for this”. you remind prior to kissing him. “I believe in you”. you added. you went into your classroom and let soobin put his skills to the test. he was even more inspired now that he had you rooting for him. 

“I tried to call you yesterday but either your phone was dead or you didn’t pay your phone bill”. taehyun admitted. 

“my phone bill is paid. my phone was probably dead”. you lied. you were declining his calls to keep from soobin’s wrath. 

“we can study today after school if you’re down. I don’t have anything to do and plus the exam is coming up soon”. 

damn. you couldn’t say no to his face. could you? 

“yeah that’s fine. library?”. you ask. 

“yeah that’s cool”. taehyun shortly replies. all the while you were wondering how the hell you were going to continue studying with taehyun behind soobin’s back. it wasn’t like you were cheating on him or anything. just studying. maybe soobin was being too overprotective. 

soobin adjusts his backpack strap and attempts recalling his notes in his head while he walked to his classroom. 

“ayo? you ready?”. yeonjun asked catching up to him

“hell yeah. I actually studied”.

“good. I uhh- kind of have some news for you though”. 

“what is it?”. 

“they found more evidence on the hotel case”.

“shit. why the hell would you tell me that right now?”.

“I’m trying to tell you all the shit I know before anything comes up later so you can be prepared”. 

“how do you know this shit anyways? do you have a part time job at the police station or something?”. 

“I have my connections. and i’ve been following it to make sure they don’t try and frame me”. 

“why would they frame you?”. 

yeonjun shrugs, “I was acting pretty hostile during interrogation. but still”.

“I don’t have time for this shit”. 

“yeah that’s probably why you still haven’t told your girlfriend”.

“don’t start yeonjun”. 

yeonjun shrugs again, “I’m just saying. you keep dragging this shit out she’s going to fuck around and leave you”. 

#choi soobin #choi soobin smut #choi soobin au #choi beomgyu #txt au #choi yeonjun

[spidermandni]

𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 — 𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑎 𝑘𝑒𝑖

note — this is a fem!reader oneshot but if i do actually write more of these, they’ll just be gender neutral. this is also really messy because it’s the first time i’ve done something like this.. anyway, i hope you enjoy it! WAIT I FORGOT TO ADD THAT THIS IS BASED OFF OF WISH YOU WERE SOBER BY CONAN GRAY!! okay bye <3

pt two

word count — 1958 words

tsukishima kei has a crush on you, one of his best friends

it’s sort of obvious to everyone except for you, which is really cliché but hey !!!

he can’t ignore his feelings and you’re very oblivious to the point where it’s ridiculous

an example? tsukishima will literally stare at you for like 10 whole minutes during class and you’ll finally look up from your desk but when you catch him

all you do is give him the biggest grin before going back to work which makes him wanna slam his head into his desk repeatedly

he’ll even compliment you and buy little snacks for you during breaks at school

“[last name], here. i got you that dumb chocolate snack you like...”

and you would turn from yamaguchi and look at tsukki like he was the one who put all the stars in the sky

“you... you got my favorite snack for me?” here you go tearing up and him refusing to make eye contact while holding his hand out

you immediately stand up give him a giant hug and stuff your face into his chest, he grunts and rolls his eyes before shaking you off and dropping the snack on your lunch box

a tiny bit of blush is visible on his face and yamaguchi snickers on the side

“hey, [last name]. your, uh, your hair looks cute today.” he stares at his feet as the three of you are walking to school together

“woooow, so i don’t look cute every day, tsukki?” you turn to him with a slight smirk on his face. he shoves you and scoffs, “shut up before i take it back, dummy.”

you’re just purely oblivious to every attempt he made to get farther with you,

this was the farthest he was gonna be able to get anyway seeing as he was a very awkward person when it came to dating and things like that.

tsukishima isn’t that type of person to socialize with a lot of people but you were. you’re that type of friend that would see one of your friends in the hallway while walking with tsukki and strike up a random conversation while he’s standing there awkwardly

but you refused to let tsukki continue to be that person 😡

which is why you were now begging him to go with you to one of the pre-summer parties!!!

“c’mon, tsukki, pleeeeeease! pretty please with a cherry on top!” you tug at his shirt and give him a puppy dog eye expression while he was dragging the both of you to the cafeteria

“no.” your jaw drops and you scoff, “why noooooot? you never go to parties with yamaguchi and i.” you give him the look again as soon as he looks down at you which causes him to whip his head back up

a noticeable blush on his face while he grumbles under his breath. “what?” you quirk your eyebrow at him

“because i don’t know anybody you know!” he stops walking and stuffs his hands into his pockets

you gasp and pout once again (it’s your thing), “yes you do! it’s kuroo’s party!!” he rolls his eyes (and that’s his thing hehe) before walking off again with you falling behind

“please, please! i won’t ask for anything else ever again! i promise, i really do like i’m serious this time!” you were now pleading in the middle of the hallway which had several people staring at you like you were out of your mind

“you said that last time when you begged me last minute to help you study for our math exam.”

“well-” he cuts you off, “and when you wanted to go get milkshakes at 1am.” you wince and try to argue against him

“but-” you groan as he lists another example, “also that one time when you begged me to watch that new horror movie with you because you were scared to go alone.”

“okay! okay! that was not my fault! there were a lot of jumpscares so i needed you! but this is different, i really do promise. pleeease, i won’t ask for anything e-”

“fuck! fine, i’ll go. just stop talking about it.” you squeal and throw your arms around him. “thank you, thank you, thank you, tha-” he flicks you in the forehead and you jump back but the grin was still visible on your face

“hurry up, yamaguchi is waiting.” he stares at the ceiling while walking but you just kept rambling on about the party

a few days later when it was finally friday night, you face timed tsukishima and as soon as he answered you shrieked

“ooooooo, tsukki! who you lookin’ cute for?” you give him a smile paired with a wink.

“when are we supposed to be there?” he ignores your question and gives you an annoyed look.

“in like thirty minutes! yama is catchin' a ride with suga, daichi, hinata, and kags. they told me to just go with you, i guess they don’t enjoy my company.” you let out an artificial weep while clutching your invisible pearls.

he chuckles while staring at your expression, “well you saying that sounds like you don’t enjoy my company, so maybe i’ll just go alone-”

“nope, see you in a few, love you!”

tsukishima heard the familiar sounds that play after a facetime call ends and he sighs

after a few minutes of preparing to go get you and what to say, he finally heads out. when he finally arrives outside your home, tsukishima rests his head on the steering wheel.

what the fuck is he gonna do at this party?

he can’t just stay by your side the whole time... or can he? NO! he can’t, you probably wouldn’t allow it and force him to socialize.

tsukishima huffs and eventually decides to pull himself out of his car to retrieve you. as soon as he knocks, somebody screams “i’m coming!” and stomping is heard.

the door is swung open and you’re stood there in all your glory. the blonde boy can feel his heart stop and it feels as if he literally stopped breathing. you look really pretty, like really, really pretty.

you’re wearing baggy ripped jeans that sort of clings to your waist with a rainbow crop top and it’s paired with boots that are barely visible because of the jeans. an accidental “wow.” flows from the tall boy’s lips

“what? do i look cute?” a wide grin appears on your face as you spin to show off your look

he covers the bottom half of his face and it’s barely audible when he says “you look pretty.” you giggle and push at his shoulder, “better be careful, tsukki! you might fall in love with me!”

when you finish your sentence, you throw a kiss his way and he just walks back to his car before you catch him looking like a tomato. “wait! wait, wait!”

you quickly close and lock your front door to chase after him. he opens the passenger seat door and waits for you to get inside before closing it. “woooooah! tsukki is becoming a gentleman now!”

“shut up.” and the drive begins to kuroo’s house. it doesn’t take long because you both just begin talking about anything that comes to mind and when you finally get there, a bunch of greetings is said.

immediately, you’re both separated and talking to different people. there were moments when you crossed paths but you were on the other side of the room, downing drinks with your other friends

and whenever he tried to make his way towards you, yamaguchi would drag him to do some random activity like play beer pong or whatever

time had passed and though tsukishima didn’t know how much, he was already tired. he felt somebody’s hand latch onto his arm and begin pulling him towards a room

“tsukishima, c’mon! we’re playing spin the bottle!” your hand clutches harder as you turn to look at him and you have a soft flush on your face along with a small smile

there was a large group in the living room playing childish games in a circle as you pulled him down and he plops with you. “let’s go! tsukishima is finally livin' a little.” bokuto screams and throws his hands

“only because [last name] is forcing him.” hinata says and gets nudged by yachi with a light glare. the game begins and a bunch of random kisses are shared. kuroo and bokuto, shimizu and akaashi, and sawamura with a girl he didn’t know

finally someone had spun the bottle and it landed on tsukishima, but you squealed out of anger. “absolutely not!”

kuroo cackles, “why not, [last name]?” everyone starts giggling while some are waiting to see what you argue with

“tsukki can’t kiss anyone but me!” you cross your arms across your chest and turn to stare tsukishima down with intimidation which, clearly, wasn’t working as few started bursting into laughter

yachi is looking at you with wide eyes, sugawara has his head in his hands, and kageyama is wheezing at tsukishima’s flustered expression.

“hey! tsukishima, seems like [last name] has a big crush on you!” nishinoya snickers while tanaka is sitting beside him losing his mind.

tsukki scoffs and stands the both of you up, “i’m going to take her home before she embarrasses herself. good night, don’t do anything stupid.”

“we won’t!” “we’ll try!” and with that, he was off while dragging you to his car with him

“awe... tsukki, does that mean you don’t wanna kiss me?” he can actually hear the pout in your voice. “that’s not it, [last name]. j-just be quiet.”

he began playing music to keep you occupied during the car ride back to your home as he thought about what the literal fuck just happened.

when he finally pulled up at your house, he went to your side to let you out but you started making grabby hands at him which obviously meant: you weren’t getting out this car unless he carried you.

a few minutes later and after a bit of arguing, the tall boy was now holding an already asleep girl in his arms like you were a toddler. you had given him your house key before just incase so it was easy for him to get you inside.

he helped you change into your pajamas and prepared headache pills and water for you in the morning when you would wake up with a hard hitting headache along with a tiny note on the side. he gave a light kiss to your forehead before leaving.

as soon as he reached his home, tsukishima cleaned himself up before laying down to rest.

he sighs as he lays there because fuck. he’s really in love with the cutest idiot on earth.

now he regrets leaving that note, and he’s stressing over the fact that he had too much confidence in that moment.

tsukishima eventually, after 30 minutes of overthinking, falls asleep.

when you rise in the morning, you look an absolute mess. you groan with a grumble of annoyance and turn on your side to see what tsukishima left.

immediately, flashbacks of last night come to your brain. you stuff your face into your pillow as you let out an embarrassed scream.

you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend.

after wallowing in self pity for a few minutes, you reach for the pills and the water and finish them off.

when you’re done and turn back over to see if he left anything else, you see the note and grab it with swiftness.

What you said was really sweet but I wish you were sober when you said it. - Tsukishima Kei

#♡ — anime #✰ — my writing #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyū imagines #haikyū imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyū x reader #tsukishima x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu!! x black reader