#we were studying it. for class. and the TEACHER draws the conclusion that the two of them r romantic. what else can i even say

[fagofgod]

saw one particular comment under some nimona trailer and immediately thought 'oh youd get along well with [redacted] teacher' and. hm.

#ok. whatever. smiley face #some guy said they felt like the movie was hinting at potential romance btwn ballister and nimona and like #good god. whatever. anyway its the same sentiment [redacted] teacher sprouted when we were studying the comic for class and. lol. ok. #we were studying it. for class. and the TEACHER draws the conclusion that the two of them r romantic. what else can i even say

[nothorses]

I think what's especially annoying to me about the "culturally Christian" argument is that people pushing the phrase (as a way of referring to individuals) tend to argue that it's describing a difference in what you know about cultures and religions outside of Christianity.

That's how they justify applying it to atheists and agnostics who don't come from a minority religion background, right? You don't know about any other religion, you must know about Christianity no matter what because that's the dominant religion here, which means you're closer to Christianity than anything else.

But like.

I was raised atheist by people who were raised atheist. Adults around me knew about Christianity, but because we never talked about it, I didn't know anything about any religion for a good chunk of my childhood.

I found out Christmas was a religious holiday when I was like 9; I thought it was about Santa before that, and I literally did not know what the nativity scene was.

I thought Easter was about eggs and bunnies until I was about the same age. I did not understand who Jesus was when it was finally explained to me; I received that information in 7th grade social studies class, when my teacher was explaining the divergence of the three Abrahamic religions.

I learned the vast majority of what I know about Christianity in art history classes I took for my degree, and I was, at the same time, working at a Jewish afterschool program; a not-insignificant part of my job was helping to lead Shabbat prayers and teaching kids about upcoming Jewish holidays. We discussed Jewish values and how they related to the structure of the program very regularly. I cannot stress enough that this was part of a Jewish community center in which a Rabbi worked and relevant gatherings and celebrations happened.

I would say I know more about Christianity, but it's not a huge margin, and a lot of that is repetition; things I've learned about Christianity have been reinforced and repeated over time, and that's not really true of Judaism for me. Had I worked at the JCC for more than two years, my answer might be different.

I would say that I received a lot of Christian messaging growing up, because our broader cultural values are heavily rooted in those ideas. Everyone gets that messaging. What they do with it might depend on their family's culture and religion, and it might depend on their own internal processing. I can say, personally, that much of that messaging didn't stick for me; I realized there was no "real" reason for those beliefs at a pretty young age, and spent a lot of time obsessing over the internal consistency of my own value system. I rejected a lot of them, often without even knowing where they were coming from.

So yeah, you could absolutely say I know more about Christianity, I've been exposed to more of it, and that I've been surrounded by more of it. But everyone in this country experiences this too some degree; to draw highly individualized conclusions about that based on the fact that I'm an atheist alone feels disingenuous, to say the least. Atheism is why I was questioning those things, and rejecting many of them; how is that different from other beliefs? Why does the fact that there is no higher power involved make that less significant than for those who do believe in one?

Don't get me wrong, our culture is Christian. This has an impact on individuals, and I think it's fair to say that some people are more driven to challenge those ideas than others. I'd argue that atheism does require challenging Christian ideas on its own, but I can concede that as a generally self-directed thing, it's easier for folks to just not self-reflect in that way than it might be when going through a guided conversion process.

But.

That line isn't hard and fast, and it's unfair to insist that it is just for the sake of convenience. Particularly when Christians themselves are unwilling to include anyone different from them, especially for the sake of sharing their power.

#atheism

[clueless-and-quirkless]

Shinso Hitoshi: Victim of Discrimination? Part 2

Last time on DragonBall Z this overly long meta post, I talked about how fanon Shinso differs from canon Shinso, looked at the evidence for him being bullied, and contrasted that with Izuku's canonical bullying and discrimination. This time, we move from how their classmates treated them to how society treats them. This section is going to be a fair bit shorter, but let's have some fun with it anyway! If you have not read the previous post, I highly suggest go and read that first! I will be building on ideas from that post in this one! With that said, let's get started!

We have seen how Izuku's and Shinso's classmates treated them in middle school, but quirk discrimation and quirkless discrimination are societal problems in the world of My Hero Academia. That begs the question, how does wider society treat Izuku and Shinso? Let’s start with Izuku. During the scene where Izuku is revealed to want to go to UA, Bakugo does this:

How does their teacher respond to this blatant aggression and attack on another student? With silence. He never intervenes at all to stop Bakugo or any of the rest of the class from insulting and attacking Izuku. Izuku is being completely let down by one of the key authorities in his life. The teacher does nothing to reign in his other students, does not scold them for their discriminatory actions or attitude, does not even try to defend one of his students. He is failing Izuku as an authority figure and one possible conclusion we can draw from this is that he thinks Izuku is not worth defending. This is not the only time an adult authority figure lets Izuku down or devalues him for his lack of quirk. That began the moment Izuku was diagnosed as quirkless:

This panel has been much studied due to the similarity in appearance between Doctor Tsubasa here and Doctor Garaki, but that is not what I want to focus on. Instead, focus on the specific wording he uses, “there’s no hope for him.” Izuku, at the age of four, is judged by a medical doctor to have zero worth because of his lack of quirk. He is immediately discounted because of the double toe joint he possesses and the quirk he does not.

Finally, we have Izuku’s own words on what people say:

He is specifically ignoring what the world is telling him and instead keeps his head up and keeps moving forward. The implication is that society is telling him to do the opposite, to keep his head down and to give up on his dreams. Let’s contrast this with Shinso.

We sadly do not see Shinso’s quirk awakening, nor how he is treated by his teachers at his middle school. However, there is one instance where we can see how society treats him, the Sports Festival itself. In chapter 34, after Izuku defeats Shinso, we get a cut to the crowd and their thoughts on Shinso. Do they think he is a villain in the making? Are they scared of his quirk? That could not be further from the truth.

The crowd, far from viewing Shinso as a villain or dangerous, instead is praising him. One person wishes they had Shinso’s quirk (as did one of his classmates previously), another wonders why UA does not have Shinso in the hero course given how useful his quirk is for heroics. Not one calls him a villain or says he is unworthy of standing with the heroes. To summarize what Shinso’s 1-C classmates say, “he’s awesome.” I could not agree with them more, Shinso is awesome.

So, let’s conclude this meta with some closing thoughts. Shinso is a great character. I love him to death, and I have loved many stories that use the fanon ideas about him as an outcast. However, we should be careful to distinguish between fanon and canon. The two are very different things. As I mentioned at the start of last post, a big part of why I was inspired to write this long essay was because I had let the fanon version of Shinso replace canon in my head. It was only when I looked back at these chapters when Sam and I were planning how to handle Shinso in Little Owl that I realized, thanks to Sam's prompting, the inconsistency between fanon and canon. Canon Shinso has his own struggles and character that I would love to see explored in fanfiction a bit more often. He does face a lot of challenges, just that his challenges are different from Izuku's and from the challenges fanon often places in front of him. Taking canon and going in weird, fun directions with it is the entire point of fanfiction. I hope y'all have enjoyed my ramblings, I did not expect this to be quite this long, but I am a bit of a windbag!

For those of you who made it to the end of this, thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you would like to see more stuff like this from me in the future!

Until then, ἐρρῶσθαι!

#my hero academia #mha meta #shinsou hitoshi #midoriya izuku #bnha #mha #quirk discrimination #fanon vs canon

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part II) - Chapter 5

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words:  11.433K (they keep getting bigger and bigger don’t they?)

Authors note: I told myself i would only updated this once i finished writing two chapters ahead, but here we are. I hope everyone has a good reading, please let me know what you think and if you have any questions regarding the story i’m as lost as you are but i believe everything will make sense at the end.

//-//-//-//-//

When you woke up in the morning, you were really irritated.

Not having slept very well, both because of the time you went back to bed, and because of the strange dreams with red lights that you kept having, you were really sleepy when you had to get up.

And well, the first class was History of Magic, so the universe was not in your favor.

But you were quite surprised when you reached Professor Okoye's classroom and found a small crowd of students waiting at the door.

"What's going on?" You asked Quill as soon as you identified him in the crowd, Mantis right behind you. 

"I don't think we're going to have class today." He replied while looking into the room. You copied his movement, and could see the teacher moving the tables and chairs in the room away to the corner, leaving a nice clear space. When she was finished, she waved for everyone to come in.

You stood with Quill and Mantis and the rest of the students scattered around the room, and the teacher in the center. She closed the door with a wave of her wand as they all entered, a small smile on her lips.

"I have an announcement to make, students." She begins. "According to the traditions of the triwizard tournament, the host school must organize a winter ball during christmas night after the first task." She tells and has to raise her voice a bit because the students start talking to each other excitedly. "And as head of the Gryffindor house, renowned for its chivalry, I was made responsible for organizing dance class sessions." She pauses briefly, looking at the students until they fall silent. "I also expect the Hufflepuff house to behave as respectfully as my Gryffindor students, since the honorable Helga Hufflepuff was known for her great charity balls."

With a wave of Okoye's wand, a cabinet in the corner of the room opens, and out of it flies a small music organ to the corner of the room. When she waves it again, a soft melody fills the entire room.

"Let's begin."

//-//

It is only at lunchtime that you get to talk to Wanda. And your feet still hurt from the times Quill stepped on them during the dance class.

You throw your bag on the Slytherin bench and sit down next to Wanda, looking at her expectantly. The girl makes a confused frown.

"What?" she asks with a slight humor in her voice.

"Really, Wands?" You reply in the same tone. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"The tournament." 

Wanda rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the plate in front of her. You frown at the way she is being casual about it.

"What about the tournament?"

You let out a short laugh.

"What do you mean “what about the tournament”? You're the champion of Hogwarts! The underage champion of Hogwarts!" You clarify, but Wanda doesn't look at you. You blink in confusion, and reach your forearm down on the table, touching her lightly so that she looks at you. Your chest aches as she pulls her arm away. "What's wrong?"

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair lightly.

"I just don't want to hear about how I'm an irresponsible cheater or how dangerous the tournament is." She replies looking at you.

"I wasn't going to say that." You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes, which irritates you. "You haven't even heard what I have to say and you've already drawn your own conclusions."

Wanda clenches her jaw, her cheeks slightly reddened.

"And what do you have to say about it then?"

"I was gonna offer to help you practice for the tasks!" You clarify angrily. And Wanda blinks in confusion. You turn your face forward next, crossing your arms. Arguing with Wanda was absolutely the worst. 

It takes a moment, but her posture softens completely and she sighs, reaching out for your arm afterwards.

"Hey." She calls tenderly, but you continue to stare straight ahead. "Hey, I'm sorry. Look at me."

You slowly turn to the side, looking down at your lap. Wanda waits for you to look up, and when you do, she gives you a weak smile.

" I'm sorry." She repeats, and you sigh, nodding. Wanda bites her lip, looking at you for a moment. "I need to tell you something. Is about..."

Wanda falls silent as your friends arrive at the table, commenting excitedly on the news of the dance that has already spread throughout the school. She sighs softly, straightening herself to look forward. You bite the inside of your cheeks, curious to know what she was going to say, but not wanting to press her.

When Nebula and Gamora sit across from you, you strain to pay attention to their conversation.

"But Wanda, tell us, what is it like to be a Hogwarts champion?" Gamora asks after the topic about the ball closes. Wanda tenses momentarily, and you want to ask why Pietro is sitting at the other end of the table with boys you don't know instead of with his sister, but the brunette forces a smile and you don't.

"I don't recommend the experience, if you ask me." She retorted with slight irony in her voice, making the group laugh. "After the selection, the principals of the other schools were not at all happy about my participation."  She counters twisting her fingers lightly. "I think they were questioning the security of the Goblet choice. But Principal Harkness stood up for me, in her own way at least. She insisted that nothing could be done, because the magical contract with the goblet can only be broken with the end of the tournament."

"I imagine you had no idea this was all going to happen when you put your name on the goblet, eh?" Nebula asked wryly, making the group laugh. But Wanda frowned.

"I didn't put my name on the goblet." Wanda declared. Her friends gave a short laugh, thinking she was joking. But the other girl's serious expression makes them look at her in surprise.

"Wait, are you serious?" Gamora questions and Wanda nods, sighing. She exchanges shocked looks with Nebula and Mantis. Next, Gamora looks at you. "I guess that goes on your list of weird things this year, huh?"

You shake your head slightly, not wanting the girl in front of you to mention what happened in the cup, but Gamora is already commenting on your nightmares the next moment.

Wanda turns to you next.

"What nightmares?" She questions, and you sigh, losing your appetite. "And why didn't you tell me about what you saw in the cup? And well, if you were worried, you could have asked if everything was okay with me, we've been at Hogwarts for a month now and..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a short smile. "Calm down, okay? I was just trying to find the right time to talk to you about everything."

"I am calm, I just want to know why you are hiding things from me! " She hits back and you frown in surprise.

"Look who's talking!"

You regret the way you speak, because Wanda gasps in surprise, her gaze hurt. Your friends witness the discussion intently.

"What did you mean by that?" She retorts angrily.

"You know very well what I meant." You reply in the same tone, feeling your stomach turn in nervousness. "You always hide things, whether with your family, or with your magic! And you won't tell me what's going on with us!"

Wanda looks at you in a mixture of surprise, anger and hurt, and you feel your heart racing. Some students are looking at you curiously, but Wanda's lack of response only disappoints you. You cast her an angry glance before getting up and leaving the hall.

//=//

You feel bad that you have accused Wanda the moment you reach your dorm. You don't know if she has the answers you seek. But you are tired, because it seems that everyone is keeping secrets from you.

Throwing yourself down on the sofa, you sigh as you close your eyes. You don't feel like studying right now, but soon you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts period and you need to get up. You don't rush, though, using all the remaining time at lunch to calm yourself, trying to push out the thoughts that you and Wanda would no longer be friends.

Mantis meets you at the door to the communal hall as soon as you leave, and you thank her for bringing your backpack back. 

"Are you okay?" She asks as you both walk toward the tower.

"Yeah, it was just a silly argument." You mumble clumsily.

"Wanda was pretty upset after you left." She counters, and you mutter in understanding. "I hope you two can make up soon."

"Me too."

When you arrived at the D.A.D.A. room, few minutes later, you grumbled softly because you could only find chairs in the front, and students who sat near Professor Fury were always called in.

The professor entered soon after, his long black cape dragging across the floor, and the customary eye patch hiding a scar on his face.

"Good afternoon, everyone." He announced loudly as he entered, and waited until everyone was seated to begin. Drawing out his wand, he charmed the chalk on the blackboard to write the subject of the day. Some buzz began to circulate as the words "unforgivable curses" formed on the board. "Who here can tell me what the unforgivable curses are?"

The room was completely silent. Fury walked between the tables.

"No one?" He asked. "How disappointing."

You knew that no one answered the question because it was a huge taboo in the witch community to talk about the dark arts so freely. Professor Fury seemed to know that too, and that only seemed to make him angry.

“Unforgivable curses are three of the most powerful and sinister spells in the world of magic.” Fury explains next. “Their use is forbidden in all magical communities, and if a wizard or witch casts any of them on another wizard or witch, they will receive a sentence in Azkaban.”

Fury made another motion with his wand and the closet at the back of the room opened, a small cage secured in an iron compartment with wheels crawled to the front. 

You and the rest of the room let out exclamations of surprise as you observed the creature inside. A large, hairy spider, very scary. Mantis shrank into the chair beside you.

"As an antidote to your ignorance, I recommend that you read the book of this subject before the next class, and bring me two scrolls about the first three chapters, specifying the history of the prohibition of unforgivable curses." Professor Fury then announced, drawing an unsatisfied buzz from the students. The room fell silent the next minute, however, as the professor opened the cage.

The spider moved on the iron, looking practically startled and shrinking into the cage. 

"The first unforgivable curse is the command curse." Fury explained, pointing his wand at the bug next. "Imperio."

You and the rest of the students watched in shock as the small crystallized flash came from the tip of the wand to the creature, which stretched its legs and then moved outward. It wasn't hard to deduce that it was Professor Fury who was controlling the spider, since from the movement of his wand, it was moving.

"The Imperium curse consists of absolute control of another living being." Fury told as he moved the spider around the room, drawing exclamations of fear and shock. "You see, during the last witch war, many sorcerers claimed that they were only fighting for Mephisto because of this curse." 

The mention of Mephisto made everyone hold their breath, but the professor didn't stop talking.

"The ministry found an efficient way to find out who was lying." He counters with a short smile. Bringing the spider back to the front of the room, to his desk for all to see, he holds it still. "You will find out eventually, children, that moral lines are usually broken during wars."

You exchanged a look with your colleagues, all clearly surprised and frightened. Fury cleared his throat, pointing his wand at the spider.

"Crucio" He spoke and unlike the other, no light came out. The spider cringed, making a high-pitched noise that filled the entire room. You understood that it was screaming in pain, and you felt your stomach clench. Before you knew it, you stood up abruptly, the noise attracting everyone's attention.

"Stop it!" You shouted angrily. "Can't you see you're hurting her?"

The teacher stopped, and you tried to control your uncompensated breathing. He cleared his throat, ignoring the buzz in the room as he extended his hand to the spider, which obediently climbed into his hand.

He turned to you, placing the animal on your desk, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the back of the room, knowing exactly what was coming. Professor Fury looked at the creature with contempt. 

"The last unforgivable curse is the killing curse." He explains. "Avada Kedavra."

You close your eyes for a moment, feeling your body tremble. When you look down, the spider was dead. The room in complete silence.

You look at Professor Fury with watery eyes.

"No one should survive this curse." He tells you. Before you can say anything, he softens his expression, looking around. "And none survived, of course. Now, why aren't you guys writing down what I said?"

You don't feel very well for the rest of the class.

//-//

The vast majority of the students seem far more impressed with how dark Fury's classes have become than afraid. You can't say the same, because it seems that every time he has to explain something about dark magic, you feel sick. Gamora tried to cheer you up by joking that auror wouldn't be the right profession for you, but you've been so upset about the absence of Wanda that you've barely been able to smile.

As the first assignment approaches, you want to forget that you fought and apologize, but the girl also seems to be avoiding you, so you do the same.

Pietro has also been distant, and Nebula told you that he and Wanda were not yet on the best of terms, and Pietro was spending much more time with Monica and Darcy than with you all. 

When the day of the first task finally arrived, you ignored the fact that you were fighting and went to look for Wanda, unable to ignore the feeling of worry that took over your whole body.

You had no idea what the first task was going to be, but Miss Harkness had asked the whole school to go to the Quidditch field on Saturday, and there were tents set up at the north end. You told Gamora that you would join her in the stands in a moment, that you needed to talk to Wanda first, and you snuck through the crowd to reach the champions' tent area.

"Psst." You called out from between the canvas of the tent, recognizing the gloomy figure sitting in the corner of the place as you entered from the back. Wanda looked around, and then stood up, frowning when she could see your shadow.

Opening the tarp, she looked at you in a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"What do you want here?"

"I didn't come to fight with you." You let her know as you realize the tone in her voice. You bite your lips for a moment, and then sigh. "Damn, I missed you."

Wanda looks away, her cheeks reddening as she crosses her arms. You swallow dryly, ignoring your uncompensated heartbeat.

"Is this what you came for?" She asks half-heartedly, staring at the floor.

"No." You say. "I needed to make sure everything was okay, and I wanted to wish you good luck."

"Why do you care?" She hits back in defiance, and you roll your eyes.

"I'm still your friend, Wanda." You reply. "We fought, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore."

Wanda looks away again, and you switch the weight on your foot.

"Well, that was it." You say. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you." She mumbles without looking at you. When you turn around, her arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. Wanda rests her head on your back and sighs, and you recover from the surprise, caressing her hands resting on your belly with your thumbs. Before you can turn to correspond properly, she releases you. "Now get out of here before a teacher sees you."

You smile at her before walking away.

//-//

Wanda would confront a dragon. You think you're controlling yourself pretty well despite everything.

She was going to be the last to do so, but your heart was already racing from the moment Principal Harkness walked to the center of the Quidditch pitch and after making the general announcements, nodded toward the locker room area that had been enchanted so that the beast could hide inside. The next minute there were witches bringing a dragon into the stadium and the crowd screamed with excitement and fear.

The champions needed to capture the golden egg for the second task, and well, everyone was curious to know how they would do it.

Gamora handed you a small booklet, and you frowned when you realized that it was an enchanted betting chart. She gave you a little smile, waving to someone behind her, and you noticed that almost all the people were betting on the winners, and the game flyers were circulating around the stands. You felt your stomach turn as you watched the enchanted drawing of a dragon spit fire at the image of three witches. 

You ended up handing the flyer to Mantis and didn't bet on anyone, focused on watching the task.

Jean Grey captured the egg in fifteen minutes. She took on the Common Welsh Green dragon, and everyone was impressed to watch her use a mirroring spell to confuse the dragon about the true location of the golden egg. She finished the task unhurt, and unseen and you joined the crowd in cheering, watching her receive the perfect score.

Maria Hill was injured in her ordeal, but this certainly brought a lot more entertainment to the audience. She faced the Norwegian Crested Back, and tried to bewitch the dragon with a sleeping spell, but the creature awoke as soon as she reached for the egg. 

The audience screamed with excitement as the dragon began to spit fire everywhere, furious. Fortunately, Maria only had minor burns, as she was able to charm the beast again. Her score was lower than Jean's, but still high.

When Wanda's turn came, many of the Gryffindor students began to boo, and you clenched your jaw. 

You relaxed momentarily when Wanda looked around the audience, smiling at you before focusing on the creature in front of her.

"That one looks bigger than the other two, huh?" you grumble to Gamora with concern as you observe the beast in the center of the field. 

"Maybe he's more docile." She remarks, but it's not true, especially since the next second the creature roars ferociously as it notices Wanda approaching.

The Ukrainian Iron Belly moved his long tail around the field, the iron chains swinging as he did. Wanda was holding her wand, hiding behind a rock. You can barely hear the crowd with the ringing in your ears, your heart racing a thousand an hour in your chest.

As Wanda approaches again, trying to bewitch the beast, the Iron Belly roars, raising its tail in the air to strike her. You blink in astonishment as you watch a shield spell form around Wanda. She rolls across the field, faster than the beast, and runs to reach the egg.

She casts a spell on its snout that leaves it bewildered long enough for her to grab the prize.

On the way back, the creature wags its tail rapidly across the field, roaring with irritation, and hits Wanda in the back, throwing her a few meters forward.

"Y/N what are you doing? Put that away!" Gamora warns you at the next second. You blink in confusion, realizing that you have your wand in hand, raising it in front of you. Gamora lowers your hands, and because of all the commotion, no one else seems to notice. She looks at you with concern, but you feel your mouth go numb; you need to help Wanda.

"Let me go, Wanda needs me." You grumble pushing her hands away, and hurrying to get down from the bleachers. Gamora calls out to you but you don't turn around.

The test continues on the field next to you, but you have to look forward to get down, pushing people aside as you rush to catch up to Wanda, your wand vibrating in your fingers as the rest of your body.

Professor Heimdall stops you at the edge of the stands.

"I need you to focus on my voice, Stark." He asks as he places his hands on your shoulders. You gasp in surprise, trying to turn your head to look at the field, but the firm grip holds you in place.

"Let me go." You ask panting, a pain beginning to well up in your head. "Wanda is in danger."

"Look at me." He commands as he lifts his thumbs to your cheek, pinning your face to look at him. You stare at the yellow irises feeling your breath hitch. You need to help Wanda. But somehow, as the seconds tick by, the yellow eyes are all you can think about. "Pull yourself together. Can't you hear the celebration from the audience? Wanda has completed the test. She is safe."

You choke on the professor's words, feeling an urge to cry with relief. He keeps his expression serious, though.

"Pull it together. Keep your wand away." He commands. "Don't tell anyone about this, not everyone is your friend here."

"W-what?"

But Professor Heimdall lets you go, quickly taking your wand and putting it back in your cloak pocket. He looks around, and smiles at someone behind you. Only now you notice the celebratory noise around you, and you turn around. The crowd is descending, and Principal Harkness is announcing the final scores.

Your friends are coming toward you, happy and smiling. Professor Heimdall steps aside to join the teachers' group, and then you are being dragged with your friends to the center of the field, along with the rest of the crowd celebrating the end of the task. You hear fireworks and shouts of victory, but your gaze is searching for Wanda.

She is shaking hands with the Minister of Magic, Johann Shmidt, and you gasp when you catch sight of her. She has barely turned toward you, smiling and waving shyly when she realizes that you and your friends are coming to greet her, when you run toward her, throwing your arms around her when you reach her.

"Wow." She gasps in surprise, but hugs you back, chuckling softly. You don't let go, and soon your friends are hugging you two too. And they are laughing and celebrating, and you are holding back your tears, not understanding why the possibility of losing Wanda seems worse than death.

//-//

Things get better after the first task. After you left the Quidditch camp, you joined the celebration in the Slytherin communal hall, which was filled with people from all the houses.

All the students who had stood against Wanda before she defeated the dragon now seemed keen to become her friends, praising her and congratulating her on the way she killed the beast. 

You still don't understand what exactly happened, but Wanda used some spell that hit the creature in the heart, and well, killing the dragon earned her first place. The other directors were not happy with the judge's decision, but the rest of the school certainly liked it.

You are in the corner of the room, surrounded by your friends and Tony's friends, trying to stay sociable while ignoring how tired you feel.

"Why are you so quiet?" Gamora asks you softly, noticing your lack of enthusiasm to join in the explosive snap game that Quill has just suggested to everyone. 

"It's nothing." You lie forcing a smile. Professor Heimdall's words still echoing in your head. "I'm just not in the mood to party. I guess I'm sleepy."

Gamora murmurs in understanding, assessing your face for a few moments. But Nebula is pulling her sister over to look at the items Tony got on his last trip to Hogsmeade, and you don't join in the conversation. 

Your gaze searches for Wanda, who is locked in conversation with a seventh grader who has never spoken to you guys before, but seemed very willing to become Wanda's friend now that she has become a champion.

You were thinking of waiting until Wanda had finished talking to the girl to say good-bye, but then you felt irritation boil up in the pit of your stomach as you watched the older girl toss her hair to the side, her hand running up Wanda's arm, as Wanda gave her a wry smile. 

You really didn't want to watch Wanda flirting with anyone, so you hurried out of the dorm, hopefully everyone would be busy enough with the party to notice.

Outside, as you turned the corner, you saw something you didn't want to see.

Tony and Steve were kissing against a wall, your brother's hands inside the other boy's shirt. You let out a loud exclamation of shock, covering your eyes.

"God, get a room!" You complained loudly with your eyes closed, feeling your cheeks very hot. You heard Tony and Steve giggle, and waited a moment to open your eyes, only to find Steve very red, looking away, and your brother with his arms crossed.

"Don't be such a baby." He teased. "One of these days I'm going to find you like this."

You choke lightly, letting out an indignant laugh.

"Excuse me, but I don't want to hook up with anyone in the corners of the castle." You mumble in embarrassment, and Tony exchanges a look with Steve, letting out a chuckle.

"Damn, do girls go through puberty later or something?" He teases and you look at him wide-eyed. "I'm teasing you little sister, no need to freak out about it." He mocks as he pulls Steve by the sleeve, when he is walking away, he turns his head to you again. "Let me know if you change your mind, I bet Natasha that you were going to propose to Wanda this year!" He shouts before turning down the hall, leaving you behind with cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You figure you'd better get back to the dorm before you run into some teacher.

//-//

You have another nightmare during the night. As real as the vision you had during the quidditch cup. You see the graveyard and the red light, but this time, it is you who is attacking. You wake up in fright, but feeling absolutely exhausted, you go back to sleep almost immediately afterwards. This time you dream of someone holding your hand.

//-//

"Have you decided who you're going to ask to the dance?" It is the first question Gamora asks you during breakfast, and you choke on your pumpkin juice. She ignores your reaction and continues talking. "By the way, where were you last night?"

"I told you I was tired." You reply wiping up the juice you spilled with a napkin. "I went back to my dorm."

"You missed the best part of the party." She retorted excitedly. "Some Ravenclaw kids conjured up a fireworks dragon and someone handed out candy from Honeydukes to everyone."

"Sounds amazing." You grumble before going back to eating. Gamora looks at you expectantly, and you sigh, understanding that she is waiting for you to answer her first question. "I don't know if I want to go to the dance."

"You’re not going to the dance?" It is Wanda who asks as she arrives at the table. You almost choke again, but just roll your eyes at the insinuating look Gamora gives you as Wanda sits down. 

"Oh, she's just saying that because no one invited her." Gamora teases with an insinuating tone, and you try to hit her but she laughs as she moves away from your grasp.

"You know, you can ask someone if you want to. You don't have to wait for the invitation." Nebula then suggests, and you are surprised because she wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, a spell book laid out in front of her. "Unless you're afraid of rejection."

"What is it with you guys today?" You mutter irritatedly, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you observe the insinuating glances of the two girls in front of you. "Besides, why are you talking about invitations, Gamora? Who invited you?"

Gamora lets out a shy giggle, and then looks away. She nods toward Quill, and you let out a surprised exclamation.

"And you're just telling me this now?" You retort excitedly.

"You're the one who left the party yesterday!" She replies. "He invited me last night, and I was going to tell you, but you left without even looking back."

You roll your eyes with amusement.

"Are you really waiting for someone to invite you?" Wanda asks next, and you look at her, feeling your heart miss a beat. What the hell is going on with you lately?

"I... well, I don't know." You answer clumsily. "I haven't really thought about it.”

"But you want to be asked?" Wanda inquires and you swallow dryly. 

"I don't know, maybe."

"But if someone were to invite you now, would you like it?"

"I..."

"God, just ask her at once!" Gamora interrupts impatiently, causing you and Wanda to look at her wide-eyed. Nebula lets out a chuckle, without looking away from the book on your desk. Gamora gestures in Wanda's direction. "Sorry, girls, I just got a little carried away. Please, Wanda, continue with your embarrassing attempt to ask the dumbest person in this school to the dance."

You mumble clumsily, feeling your cheeks warm. Wanda giggles.

The brunette next to you pokes you lightly in the ribs, and waits for you to look at her again before speaking.

"Gamora's right, actually." She says shyly, and you feel your heart speed up. "All champions need to dance at the ball, and well, the first person I thought of asking was you." She confesses quickly. "But it's okay if you don't want to go..."

"No!" you interrupt quickly, feeling your face hot. You smile next. "I'd love to go to the dance with you, Wands."

Wanda looks at you for a few seconds, and you look back. Your stomach flipping with nervousness.

"I'm getting diabetes." Nebula comments next, breaking the moment. Gamora laughs, pushing her shoulder lightly against her sister as you and Wanda look forward uncomfortably.

"Stop it, they're adorable." Gamora hits back with a smile, you clear your throat, feeling embarrassed as you pretend to pay attention to the daily prophet lying on the table and not the presence of the brunette next to you or the comments of your friends.

//-//

Things go well between you and Wanda after that. The discussion you two had is long forgotten. You imagine that Gamora and Tony think that as you begin to help Wanda try to decipher the egg, that you have mentioned to her the connection you have been feeling, but you have not yet found the moment to speak up.

You told her about the other things, though. About the sky mark on the Quidditch canopy, and Tony's investigation of your father and the followers of Mephisto. Wanda was also surprised to learn that Howard and Erik had been friends in school days, but she knew as little as you did about all the issues. You felt bad for having accused her of hiding things from you, and bought Honeydukes candy to apologize.

And so time passed, and the day of the winter ball finally arrived.

To say that you were looking forward to it was an understatement. And you weren't the only one, as during the whole day, the vast majority of the students talked only about this.

Your prom outfits arrived the same day during breakfast. You had written to Jarvis to buy Gamora's and Nebula's costumes as well, and they were very happy to receive the dresses. Tony had a piece of toast in his mouth when you left his suit that arrived in the same package as yours on the table, before you turned to check your own outfit.

"It's very nice, isn't it?" You commented to Gamora as soon as you held out the material aloft. The girl let out a sigh of excitement.

"My god, you're going to look beautiful!" She exclaims, and then gives you an insinuating look. "In fact, you're already a cutie." She teases with a wink, making you laugh. 

"Good morning." Wanda said as she joined you, she widened her eyes slightly when she realized that you were looking at the ball costumes. 

"Great, you're here!" Gamora speaks to the brunette excitedly. "I want to see your dress!".

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

"It's in my room." She informs you as she sits down next to Gamora. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, but when you notice, she deflects. "You can see it when we go to get ready."

The conversation eventually went in the direction of comparing outfits and forming combinations, and then you thought it best to put your clothes away before they got dirty with some of the delicious food from the breakfast.

//-//

You were a little surprised to hear that the girls were going to start getting ready for the ball as early as the afternoon, but you didn't object to joining them in the Slytherin communal hall, taking your costume package with you.

"Are you going to wear any makeup?" Gamora asked you as you all stood in the Slytherin dormitory bathroom, which had several girls in it. Fortunately the communal hall was the most luxurious in the entire school and had enough space for everyone. You were sitting on one of the sink benches, after showering and putting on your prom costume, waiting for the girls to finish.

"I don't know how to wear makeup, Gamora." You respond by looking at her. She smiles, looking away from the mirror to look at you. 

"If you want, I can help you." She says and seeing your hesitation, she smiles. "Only if you want me to, honey."

"I don't know." You say. "Maybe just lipstick."

Gamora laughs lightly, nodding in agreement. Nebula starts complaining loudly next, not being able to button the zippers of her dress properly, and Gamora gives a giggle, stepping aside to help her sister. 

"Stop moving." Gamora warns Nebula, and you chuckle at the scene. Wanda is coming out of the cabin she had come in from to put on her dress, and you feel your breath hitch when you see her. She is adjusting the straps and smiles shyly at the look you cast at her, and you do your best to cover it up.

"You look pretty." She comments as she approaches, looking at you for a moment before looking away to the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Wanda." You retort the next moment, half out of breath. Wanda smiles, her cheeks reddening as she keeps her gaze on her own reflection, fixing her hair.

"Wanda, help Y/N with her makeup, I think Nebula messed up her zipper." Gamora asks the next moment, pulling out her wand to concertize her sister's clothes, who fusses impatiently. You and Wanda share a giggle at the scene, but your giggle dies as Wanda approaches you, a lipstick in her hands. 

"I think this color suits your costume." She comments with a smile, opening the lipstick and lifting it to your face height. You feel your breath hitch, watching with slightly wide eyes as Wanda stands between your legs and touches your face with her other hand to hold you in place. "Stand still so it doesn't smudge."

You want to tell her you're not going anywhere, but she's putting the makeup on you in the next second. You keep your mouth ajar, trying to ignore the tingling sensation you feel on your skin where Wanda's fingers are touching, or the way your heart is racing. Wanda is concentrating on her task, and bites her lower lip as she puts on your make-up. 

"There you go." She whispers as she pushes the lipstick away from your lips, her gaze lingering on your mouth however. The dark glow in her irises makes your stomach do a flip-flop. You think Wanda is going to kiss you, because she is so close and her fingers are still on your chin, and you wish she would.

But Gamora lets out an exclamation of satisfaction as she manages to tidy up her sister's dress, and Wanda frowns, shaking her head slightly as she steps back.

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Gamora says as soon as she glances at you, making you smile awkwardly. You're feeling a little out of breath from all the interaction with Wanda, so you just keep your gaze on your own lap, waiting for the girls to finish the finishing touches. Nebula remarks something about a funny story in the Daily Prophet next and you get distracted.

//-//

You are a nervous wreck when you all reach the main hall. 

Gamora nods to Quill, standing in the doorway in his dark brown suit, looking very handsome with the tie that matches his eyes. He flashes her a contented smile as they greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. You see Pietro and Monica have entered the room as well, their arms intertwined. Darcy is right behind, accompanied by a girl you don't know.

You clear your throat, turning to Wanda as you stop at the entrance, but Professor Okoye catches up with you before you can ask if Wanda wants to come in yet.

"Maximoff, dear, there you are." Okoye announces sounding rushed. "The dance of champions is about to begin, I imagine you'll be the partner, right miss Stark?"

"R-right, professor." You reply and the woman nods in agreement, grabbing yours and Wanda's arm to drag you to a corner, where the other champions were already waiting. She hurried out the next moment, signaling to the students outside to come in that she needed to announce the start of the dance.

"Are you ready?" you ask Wanda ignoring the nervous feeling in your stomach. The brunette smiles, her hand slipping into yours and making your heart soar.

"I hope I don't stumble." She retorts with a shy smile, you think she looks absolutely stunning.

"Don't worry." You say looking forward, the other champions straightening up to get in line. "I won't let you fall."

//-//

You twist Wanda in your arms to the rhythm of the music, a laugh escaping your lips. This is already the fourth song in a row that you have danced to together, and the feeling is so incredible that you think you will dance all night.

Two more songs later, you feel thirsty and approach Wanda to tell her you'll get a drink for you two, completely oblivious to the way the girl's cheeks flush when you whisper in her ear.

At the drinks table, Gamora approaches you, her cheeks rosy.

"I just kissed Peter!" She announces and you almost knock over the punch.

"What?" you ask in surprise and your sister laughs, maybe from nervousness or excitement, you can't tell. "Did you like it?

"Sure." She assures you with a smile, looking pleased. You make a mental note to tease her about her blushing cheeks another time. "It was weird the first time, but the sensation is really good when you get the rhythm right."

You nod in understanding, not knowing exactly what you can add in this matter.

"And what are you doing here with me? Go kiss your boyfriend!" You tease next, smiling encouragingly and making Gamora laugh. She turns to leave, but then decides to tell you something.

"Don't forget to tell me how it was with Wanda. I think kissing a girl must feel different."

She then leaves, laughing lightly at your shocked expression. Your heart is racing because the only thing you can think about right now is the possibility of kissing Wanda.

Your gaze returns to the dance floor, and you feel your nervousness increase. Wanda dances timidly to the rhythm of the music, her hips swaying and her eyes closed. She looks beautiful. She is beautiful. Out of your reach.

You shake your head to push these thoughts away, and you take a deep breath before walking over to her again with the drinks in your hand.

//-//

After drinking and dancing to three more songs, the band finally changes to a softer melody, and you smile shyly at Wanda as you hold out your hand to her.

With your hands together, you hold Wanda around the waist, and she rests her free hand on your shoulder. She is blushing at the closeness of your faces, so she gives you a shy smile before resting her chin on the hand on your shoulder. You enjoy the proximity as you move slowly to the rhythm of the music.

You close your eyes, feeling quite good this way. In her arms. Peaceful.

When the music ends, it takes a moment for you to move away, your hands remaining together. 

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and then nods her head to the side to signal you two to leave. You bite your lips as she takes you by the hand to escort you out of the room.

You are too busy thinking about the feeling of your hands intertwined to worry about the path, and are slightly surprised when you end up in an empty room.

Wanda lets go of your hand as you enter. And you close the door as she walks inside. She stops walking when she reaches the teacher's desk, and turns around, leaning against the wood. You watch her twist the rings on her fingers nervously as you walk toward her. 

You stop at the desk in front of her, mimicking her motion of leaning against the wood as you risk a glance at her.

"What are we doing here, Wands?" You ask ignoring your heartbeat quickened by the tension in the air.

Wanda looks at you, pressing her lips together for a moment. 

"What do you think?" She retorts with slight defiance, and you bite back a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"You... you know we don't have to do anything just because everyone else is doing it, right?" You say, and Wanda lets out a short laugh, looking at you slightly impressed. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that's such a Gryffindor thing to say. Very chivalrous." She teases and you chuckle awkwardly, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I am a hatstall after all." You mutter and Wanda frowns in confusion. You shake your head, briefly mentioning what the sorting hat told you in first year and drawing an impressed exclamation from Wanda.

"That's pretty awesome, you know, right?" she adds with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm pretty awesome indeed." You joke making Wanda laugh.

"Oh, there's the Slytherin part I see." She teases. "But I haven't found your Ravenclaw trait yet, are you sure you inherited the intelligence?"

You pretend to be offended for a moment with a grimace, and Wanda laughs, unconsciously or consciously stepping forward.

"Excuse me, but I am a very competent sorceress."  You argue smiling, ignoring the nervousness that grows as the proximity between you two increases. "Best charm student in the whole school."

"Oh, really?" Wanda retorts. "Last time I checked I had that position."

"It's okay, we can share first place." You assure almost in a whisper, Wanda is too close for you to think of adding anything else right now.

"There's the Hufflepuff." She says with a shy smile, approaching you one last time. You can feel her breath against your cheek, the emerald eyes fixed on yours. You swallow dryly, risking a look at the lips so inviting. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

"Not if I kiss you first." You breathlessly challenge, and Wanda smiles before moving forward, both of you closing your eyes at the same time as you meet her halfway.

Her lips were soft, just as you imagined they would be. You swallow hard, feeling your whole body heat up. You stood with your mouths together for a moment, before Wanda pulled away, her breathing uncompensated as much as yours, as your lips tingle. 

"Kiss me again." She asks hoarsely, and you move forward. This time it's even better, because Wanda's hands go to your neck and yours to her waist. And when she sighs, you ask for passage with your tongue, following your instincts completely.

The sensation is intoxicating, and sends a shiver through your whole body. Wanda tastes like cherry punch, and you gasp at the sensation of your tongues together, squeezing her waist lightly.

You parted for breath, keeping your foreheads together and your eyes closed.

"Wow." You exclaimed softly breathlessly.

"Yeah, I know." She agrees in the same tone, her hands coming down from your neck to squeeze your shoulders lightly. Wanda kisses you again, her tongue moving against yours slowly, exploring your mouth. You moan softly at the sensation and Wanda pulls away breathlessly, blushing due the sound she has managed to wring out.

"S-sorry." You gasp quickly, feeling your cheeks as hot as the rest of your body.

"Don't be." She says. "That was hot."

You let out a clumsy laugh, and Wanda copies, and the moment dissipates from palpable tension to humorous lightness. You kiss briefly before Wanda circles her arms around your shoulders in a hug that you reciprocate equally.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" You ask when she breaks the embrace, but her hands remain intertwined behind your neck. 

"Not really." She replies with a smile, biting her lips as she looks at you. " I just came to be with you."

"Oh, yeah?" You ask with slight teasing, and Wanda lowers her gaze to your lips.

"Hu-huh. And now that I have you, I don't want to let you go."

You smile, lifting your hands to her neck, caressing her nape lightly as you kiss her again, not as intensely as before, and with a smile on your lips.

When you pull away, Wanda is smiling too.

"Don't worry, Wands. I'm not going anywhere."

//-//

After the ball, there is a new tension in your relationship with Wanda that makes you lose focus on anything other than her. 

Gamora missed no opportunity to tease you about this. And every time she caught you casting passionate glances at Wanda, or the other way around, you got a wry comment to get a room. It was harmless, but it made you and Wanda both blush like tomatoes.

The best change was the kisses. 

They could happen suddenly, or be almost planned. Wanda liked to take you by surprise, you could tell. Stealing firm kisses between corridors that made you blush and clumsy, or kisses when you spent time together with your friends, and her hand slipped into yours. 

You loved all the kisses she wanted to give you. But you had your favorites. The ones that happened when you were alone, and all you could think about was Wanda. They were usually planned, because to have free time, without friends, you need a little organization. So they usually happened when you went to Hogsmeade together, or when you helped her study for the tournament. It was amazing to finish a study session with Wanda's mouth on yours.

But you knew you still needed to talk to her. You were afraid you would lose the kisses if you did.

As the date for the second assignment approached, Wanda began to get anxious, because you all still hadn't deciphered the golden egg clue.

At that moment you were in the Slytherin communal room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with many books around you. Wanda was lying on the couch, a book enchanted to be at her eye level. Gamora and Nebula in the armchairs, also reading. You are trying to find some clue to decipher the egg.

"We've tried the basic open and close spells, right?" Gamora asks without taking her eyes off the book, probably reading about what she mention. 

"Of course." Wanda replies. She sighs in frustration the next moment, taking the enchanted book off her face, and closing it in her lap. You move your hand to hers, trying to reassure her. "I need to figure this out soon, because the task is in a few weeks."

"We will." You tell her with a smile.

"Just out of curiosity, what happens if you don't break out the clue?" Nebula asks and Wanda sighs.

"I won't have any idea what the second task is about and I won't know how to prepare."  She replies. "And then I'll lose and be humiliated in front of the whole school. Feel free to drown me in the great lake if that happens."

Wanda's dramatization makes you all laugh, but then you get an idea and your expression fades. Wanda, who was watching you, looks at you curiously, but you are already getting up, hurrying to get the golden egg that was on the couch.

"What are you going to do?" Gamora asked, as curious as the other girls. You walked over to one of the aquariums and held the egg up high.

"Sorry, folks." You said to the fish, and then opened the clasp. The shrill noise filled the room, but before the girls could complain, you dipped the egg into the water and the sound stopped.

You leaned forward and could hear the low melody.

"I can' believe it." You grumbled contentedly, and then dipped your head into the water. Your friends looked at you with wide eyes.

"Has she finally lost her mind?" Nebula sneered at the other two.

When you surfaced again, you had a smile on your face.

"Girls, it's the merpeople!" You counted excitedly. "That's the clue. I can't believe we stared at the great lake all this time and didn't come up with this idea."

Natasha entered the communal hall next, and when she saw your wet torso, she frowned.

" Should I ask...?" She began with mild irony, watching you take the egg from the aquarium and return to the couches, the water dripping all over the hall.

"She just deciphered the egg!" Wanda warned contentedly, and when you approached, she ran her hands down your neck and gave you a lingering kiss, and you almost dropped the egg on the floor.

"For merlin, get a room." Nat teased before Gamora could do it, and you and Wanda parted with giggles.

You used the wand to dry your body and the floor, returning the egg to Wanda. Nat sat down in one of the free armchairs.

After you finished cleaning up, you repeated the lyrics of the song to them. 

"Does that mean you're going to be underwater for an hour?" Nebula questioned in surprise to Wanda, and the girl sighed.

"I guess so." She replied thoughtfully. "And now I'm going to need to figure out a way to do that."

"If you were an animagus, you could turn into a fish." Nat mocked making the group smile. 

"I thought you'd have a better resistance to holding your breath, Wands. Since you're kissing all the time." Nebula added and Gamora and Nat laughed, while you rolled your eyes awkwardly, and Wanda raised her middle finger at the girl, her cheeks flushed.

"Let's focus, please." Asked the sorceress in front of you, embarrassed by the teasing.

"Yes, yes." Gamora agreed, gesturing. She settled herself in the armchair before speaking again. "I think you could use some plants. I'm sure Mantis must know some herb that will make you breathe underwater."

"Speaking of Mantis, where is she?" Nat asked and you turned your head in her direction.

"She has private lessons with Professor Heimdall, Tasha." You explained. "Of divination. She's pretty good, I think."

Nat murmurs in understanding, and Wanda says she will talk to Mantis about it when she is free. You gather up the books, and decide to spend some time playing chess and drinking tea now that you no longer have to worry about unraveling the egg.

//-//

You miss many opportunities to tell Wanda about your connection with her. That's because you have too many moments alone, between conversations and make-out sessions, and you just don't tell. And the feeling of keeping something from her corrupts you inside, but you bear it.

And then the date for the second task comes, and you're a nervous wreck, and Wanda doesn't understand why you're especially affectionate this morning, but she's not complaining.

Mantis got some kind of plant for her, which would give Wanda enough time to stay submerged as long as necessary.

You and the girls had also practiced swimming in the great lake with Wanda many times since the day you discovered the clue. And the vision of Wanda in her swimsuit was still preserved somewhere in your mind.

"Have you seen Pietro anywhere?" Wanda asked annoyed, looking around as you all had breakfast. The vast majority of the school was already on their feet as well, excited for the start of the task.

"I last saw him last night, after we went to Quidditch practice." Quill counters distractedly, passing jam on one of the toasts. 

"You two had worked things out, right?" You ask as you are sitting next to Wanda, she nods and then sighs.

"I think so." She mumbles. "I wanted to see him before the task."

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing how to help her. It was already time to leave, and you hoped that Pietro wouldn't be so stubborn to stay away from his sister on this day. You kept your hand intertwined in Wanda's all the way, trying to assure her, and she was very grateful.

The clue was right after all. The whole school was carried to the middle of the lake through the boats, up to huge iron bleachers that were conjured up during the night. 

"You look so cute in that uniform." You comment in Wanda's ear before bidding her farewell to go up to the bleachers, talking about the Slytherin competition uniform, and smiling at the way her cheeks redden. "Be careful, Wands."

"I will." She assures before kissing you. She joins the champions and you look at her one last time before going upstairs to join the rest of the students.

When Principal Harkness announces the start of the task, after explaining that an important treasure had been taken from the champions and they would need to find it in the lake, you stand with your body tense with nervousness, clenching your hands on the railing as you look down.  The whistle sounds and you hold your breath as you watch Wanda dive in. 

"Hey, are you going to be okay?" Gamora asks next to you, placing her hand on top of yours on the metal. You swallow dryly, looking away from the lake to her.

"I will." You say trying to force a smile. "As long as she does."

Gamora looks at you a moment, assessing your face.

"I'm sure Wanda will be fine." She says. 

You nod, looking down again. Now all that was left to do was wait.

//-//

"Did you hear what Tony just said?" 

You blinked a few times. You were in the circle with your friends in the bleachers, and you got distracted again by looking at the lake. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the return of the champions to the surface, talking among themselves and placing bets on the winners. Tony's friends joined in as soon as the task began.

"Sorry, Gamora." You say. "What?"

"Natasha is missing too." She says and you frown in confusion looking at the rest of the group. 

"What?"

"Pietro and Tasha, Y/N." Gamora says. "Tony just said they were supposed to meet last night, but she didn't show up. And no one saw her, just like Pietro."

You didn't know exactly what to make of that, but when you looked at the lake, you frowned.

"Gamora, you don't think that..."

"That's exactly what we're thinking." It is Tony who speaks now, looking at your expression and deciphering the idea that has gone through your head. "I just talked to the Durmstrang guys. One of their boys vanishes at night too, I think he's Grey's best friend."

You widened your eyes, and then leaned on the railing, looking down. Tony and Gamora mimicked your position.

"That's insane." Gamora commented, and you nodded in agreement.

"What happens if the champions lose the task?" Tony asked and you shook your head, not liking the possibility.

"I'm sure Professor Harkness wouldn't let anything bad happen." You say. "Right?"

Gamora and Tony murmur in agreement, and you find that your words were more to reassure you than to reassure them.

//-//

With thirty-eight minutes on the clock, Jean Grey emerged from the lake. And she was not alone.

The crowd started cheering as she and Scott Lang, as Harkness announced, swam out of the lake. Reporters from the Daily Prophet were also taking several pictures, and you noticed the Durmstrang flags in the hands of some students.

Your friends seemed reassured to see Scott's condition, deducing that Pietro and Natasha would also be fine. You only felt more nervous because Wanda was still at the lake.

Twelve minutes after Jean, it was Maria Hill's turn to step up. The crowd celebrated as they watched the remainder of her transfiguration into a shark before she returned to human form, bringing Nat with her. You and your friends rushed downstairs to Tasha, but you barely caught Gamora's teasing about the redhead being the treasure of the foreign student, as your gaze was on the lake while you were on the edge.

"Ten minutes to the end of the second task!" Announced one of the judges loudly, causing the crowd to cheer. You felt your stomach drop. Where was Wanda? 

And then you saw her. But only inside your head. 

It was another vision, and you felt your body go cold as if you were in the lake. It was dark and blue, and you couldn't breathe properly.

Then you blinked and were back in the stands.

With a sob, you jumped into the lake.

Immediately, as soon as you did, the crowd and the teachers looked at you with shock, but you dove in the next.

It was very cold.

The lake was as dark underneath as you thought it would be. And you were gradually running out of air as you sank, but you didn't care. You needed to find Wanda.

When you began to lose consciousness, you thought you saw a light, and struggled to swim a little further. But then your air ran out completely, and you passed out.

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, feeling like you were drowning. 

But you were warm, and lying on a soft surface. It took you a few seconds to realize that it was the bed in the infirmary.

The warmth came from the comforter at the level of your neck, clearly bewitching judging by the way it shimmered softly.

"Hey." It was Wanda. At your side. Safe. 

You moved out of the covers quickly, your hand reaching for hers on the bed.

"Hey, how are you feeling? You didn't get hurt did you?" The questions escaped your mouth faster than you even thought about them. Wanda had a frown on her face, but she squeezed your hand back and with the other she touched your face, and you leaned into the touch, feeling your body relax.

"I'm fine, I promise." She assures. "I just don't understand why you did that."

"Did what exactly?" You ask confused, trying to remember how you ended up in the infirmary. Had you hit your head somewhere?

Wanda looks at you with confusion.

"Jump in the lake." She clarified. "Why did you jump in the lake after me?"

You blinked in surprise, giving a short laugh.

"What are you talking about, Wands?" you asked. "I was watching you. Are you sure I didn't fall? Maybe I hit my head and..."

"You don't remember?" She interrupts in shock, and then lets out an incredulous sigh. "Okay, now I'm even more worried."

You were feeling your head aching, and you rubbed your fingers over the tip of your forehead a moment, before sighing.

"What happened to you in the task, anyway? You were gone long." 

Wanda looked away from yours, biting her lip.

"It was nothing." She grumbled and you frowned.

"Wanda..." You started. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." She retorted snidely. But when she looked at you, she didn't keep her gaze and you sighed, letting go of her hand and throwing yourself back on the bed, feeling frustrated. "I just don't want you to think I'm weird."

You frown at the statement, turning your head to look at her again. Wanda takes a deep breath before confessing.

"I've been having visions in my head." 

You think you can laugh at the irony of the facts. Wanda takes advantage of your lack of reaction to continue explaining.

"S-started last year. I... I don't know what they mean, but sometimes they make me too distracted. And well, I had one during the task, and I got lost. So it took me a while to find Pietro, but I was fine." She recounts. "You didn't have to jump in the lake and..."

"I saw you." You interrupt half breathlessly. "In my head. I... I thought you were drowning." You recount recalling, feeling a slight pain deep in your eyes. "It was dark and I felt like I was being pulled under."

Wanda's eyes widen.

"I fought with Grindylows down there for a moment." She says. "They tried to pull me to the bottom, and well, it was quite despairing, but I managed to take them on. It was right after I got lost."

"R-right."

Both of you are silent for a moment, your breaths slightly uncompensated as you try to understand exactly what it all means. You clear your throat deciding to break the silence.

"Wanda, what happened to me?" 

"You almost drowned." She says lowering her gaze to the bed. "I found you on the way back. Unconscious." Wanda counters with watery eyes. "For a moment I thought..."

She sighs softly, controlling the urge to cry by shaking her head slightly and forcing a smile. You feel horrible for worrying her like that.

"Heimtall and Strange jumped into the lake a little later behind you. I guess everyone thought you were playing tricks, but when you didn't climb back up they realized something was wrong. I was trying to carry you along with Pietro when they caught up with us."

"Come here." You ask opening your arms and Wanda climbs on the bed, sinking against you. You both immediately relax from the embrace, and you close your eyes as Wanda buries her face in your neck, running her hands behind your back.

"Please don't ever do anything like that again." She whispers against your skin, and you swallow dryly. Judging from the facts, you can't promise her that.

//-//

Your friends came to visit you in the infirmary too. You had a short episode of hypothermia, so Nurse Cho wanted you to rest and had let only Wanda stay to see you. Everyone had agreed that you would like to see her first. 

Tony told the teachers and judges that he had dared you to jump in the lake, and even though your friends didn't understand why Tony didn't want the adults to know what was going on with you lately, they all backed up the story.

You and Tony ended up with a month's detention for this.

The only relatively good thing about this whole story was that you and Wanda shared the same experiences. You told her about your visions and nightmares, and she told you about hers. Visions of red lights as her powers, and masked witches. 

You talked to Wanda about your connection on a rainy Thursday in May. You both were on your bed in the dormitory, a few spell books between you to finish the lesson Professor Stephen had passed on, and Wanda was concentrating, the strands of brown hair falling down her face as she bit the end of her pencil and read the words in front of you. She was beautiful, and you were in love. And you could no longer hide it.

"I need to tell you something." 

Wanda looked at you with a mildly surprised expression, but smiled, shifting on the bed to look at you.

You watched her expression go from confused, to embarrassed, and then to worried in a few seconds after the words "There's something weird going on with me. I think I'm magically connected to you, and I'm not just talking about liking you" came out of your mouth. And then you told about the way you felt every time you thought of her in danger, and Wanda swallowed dryly, looking away.

"I don't know what to say." She confessed clumsily, and then clasped her hands to her face for a moment in frustration. "Shit, I have no idea what that means."

You sighed, reaching out to reach for her hand on the bed. Wanda watched your fingers together, and you frowned as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm putting you in danger, aren't I?" She asked in a whisper, and you looked at her with confusion, but she didn't wait for you to speak. "I'm talking about the lake. You almost drowned to follow me. What happens if I get hurt?"

"Wanda..."

"No." She interrupts forcing a smile, and releasing his hand. "Do you realize how dangerous magical connections can be? What happens if, I don't know, the third task is even more dangerous? Will you throw yourself in front of some other monster? How far does it go? I don't want your life to depend on mine!"

Wanda stands up, babbling nervously about things that might happen, and you look at her in surprise, standing up as well. You try to touch her shoulder, but she pushes your hand away.

"Do you even know if you really like me? If it isn't just because of the magic?" She accuses and you take a step back.

"Don't say that." You retort starting to feel irritated and hurt.

"No, I mean it." She repeats in a whiny voice. "How can you be sure your feelings are real? It could just be the magic and.... "

"I am in love with you." You interrupt, but Wanda just shakes her head in disbelief, letting the tears flow. When you try to touch her again, she sobs and pulls away. "Wanda, I really am. Please..."

"Stop." She gasps as she pulls further away. "Just stop." She asks and you hold yourself in place, feeling your face wet. Wanda takes a deep breath, wiping away her tears. "I need time. I don't...I don't know what to make of this right now."

You swallow dryly, looking at her in shock.

"I don't want us to end." You say and Wanda just sobs softly, shaking her head.

"I can't stay with you without knowing if what you feel for me is real." She retorts in a voice hoarse from crying, but her gaze doesn't flinch. Your stomach turns the wrong way, because you feel terrible. "I need time to think. And I can't think with you by my side."

"Wanda..."

"I'm sorry." 

Then she left. And you let the tears flow freely. 

//-//

Tag list> // @sxfwap​ // @table57​ ||@imapotatao​ / @aimezvousbrahms​/ @ensorcellme​/ @helloalycia​@mionemymind / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​ / @idek-5​ // @myperfectlovepoem​ // @helloalycia​ // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam​ // @olsensnpm​

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x yn #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wandamaximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

[istoletheluckyshorts]

Stardew Valley theory(ies) part 2

The old teacher

Something I haven't seen being discussed in the Fandom since I got here and I think is because is one of those things you need to see the detail and stop to think about it.

Currently the children in Pelican Town are all being taught by Penny, but who was there before her to teach the other marriage candidates? And who was schooled by this said person, and most importantly, do we know who that is? Well, today I'll try to find out about this, so let's get to it.

1- the students

Before speculating just who was the teacher i would like to dive in into who was being taught, as in, who were the original children of Pelican Town, for that we'll have to go through each bachelor and Bachelorette to see who lived there long enough to have been schooled.

Alex- According to his dialogue, Alex started living with George and Evelyn after his mom passed away due to some sickness. This could be interpreted as "Alex couldn't stay with anyone else but his grandparents because no one else in his family was available" or "Alex chose to live with his grandparents after his mom passed", for the sake of keeping this in the subject we're handling let's say Alex was sent to his grandparents house when he was pretty young, maybe being 10 at least to 12 at most, so he could have been schooled in Pelican Town while there.

Elliott- We can cut him out of the class because he said in the game he moved in a year before the farmer did, so he's already a adult and thus couldn't be a part of the class of Pelican Town.

Harvey- another less likely candidate, mostly due to his (headcanon) age and a quote he has that says " i came here because I liked the small-town atmosphere, and the potential holistic to patient care." So we can assume he was already a adult and a doctor when he came to Stardew Valley, at most he would be a young adult while the rest would be in their teens.

Sam- On the other hand we have a possible candidate for being a student there, the most revealing thing I can think of is his friendship with Sebastian, from their dynamic we could guess these two have known each other for a long time, leading me to believe they are childhood friends, making a case for Seb as well, another thing that could solidify this more is his mom's relationship with Caroline, who we can guess is the youngest mom in the Valley so not only Jodi was there first, so was her son, Sam.

Sebastian- I believe he also studied in Pelican Town, not just because of what I stated when I mentioned Sam, but also because of his original ambition to want to go to the city, he is probably tired of the routine because he has been there for a long time and doesn't seem to see anything else there as exciting as it was when he was a kid, like how he would go to the train track and watch said trains.

Shane- he wouldn't be one of the students there, according to quotes said by Marnie, Shane has been staying there for months, however there is one thing that...to say the least, makes this all a bit confusing, there's a photo or Marnie holding the hand of a baby when she was younger, by the look of the hair we would assume that it's Jas, but look back to what she said before, Shane has been there for MONTHS, there's no possible way of that being Jas at all, even if we take the in-game time into consideration, Marnie would have to have her current appearance if that was Jas, making people of the Fandom believe that the child is in fact Shane, which means he was in Pelican Town when he was younger, which is possible but I still don't think he lived there, maybe he would be there just to visit his aunt like most kids do when they have a relative that lives in the countryside.

Abigail- I touched a bit of past when I mentioned Sam, and I belive she's a likely candidate to have studied in Pelican Town, not only that but we can also assume her age, in the game Abby is said to be doing online classes, making me believe that she's the youngest of both her friend group and the whole town in general, not currently but at the time before Jas and Vincent came into the picture.

Emily and Haley - Emily mentions that her parents have been traveling abroad for two years and the house was now under their care, and Haley says that she doesn't think living in the country is that bad, thus both sisters could be students in Pelican Town, so maybe Haley and Alex are also childhood friends, meaning they have been the local mean girls for as long as time.

Leah- Leah is a bit tricky, cause looking qt her quotes alone is hard to tell wether or not she has lived there as a kid with her parents, but since this is a free space to speculate, I think is a bit more believable to think she moved there as a adult, possibly to try and get away from her old life.

Maru- she was probably studying alongside her brother, and maybe their little one sided sibling rivalry started way back then, Seb mentions that he and Maru used to fight as kids (admitting most of the time was his fault), maybe she was a top student like our next and final student.

Penny- she definitely lived there, her mother has been working as a bus driver before in that town for a long time, and furthermore, maybe whoever was teaching them inspired Penny to also start teaching the kids in the town.

Now that we have established who is and who isn't in our little classroom, let's start with the possible teachers of this class.

You'll be happy to hear that I have boiled down to two people that could possibly be said teacher, and depending on who you think is most likely, then you get to choose who is it, but a little side note, this is leaving the speculation and theorizing area to a more headcanonish zone.

Evelyn- she's a very sweet young lady so it isn't too far-fetched to think she was like that in her adulthood and with children too, her own daughter entrusted her with her son so it wasn't hard to picture her a possible candidate to be a teacher, however given her position as someone who takes care of the gardens in the town things start to become a bit complicated, but that still isn't enough to throw the possibility out of the way, gardening could be something she started to do after all the kids "graduated" as a way to still lend her hand to the community she has been a part of for a long time.

Gunther- there isn't much to say about him because of the lack of clues and dialog we have od him, we don't even know if he's from the town itself, but let's say that before of taking care of both the museum and library he was just a librarian and was assigned by Lewis himself to teach the children of Pelican Town since he was probably very familiar with the books he possess, this might explain why there are lost books in the town to begin with, they probably got lost because he and the kids would move from place to place in town while listening to what he had to say.

In conclusion, now I have a explanation for my urge to draw a Pelican Town class photo and post it here.

#stardew valley #sdv #SDV theory #Stardew Valley theory #sdv sebastian #sdv Alex #sdv elliott #sdv Harvey #sdv sam #sdv Shane #sdv abigail #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv Maru #sdv penny #sdv evelyn #sdv gunther

[vavuska]

This girl is right: Freud's mom was a hottie!

Sigmund Freud (aged 16) and his mother, Amalia, in 1872

More about Oedipus complex:

Who were Freud's parents?

Freud was born to Jewish parents in the Moravian town of Freiberg, in the Austrian Empire (now Příbor, Czech Republic), the first of eight children. Both of his parents were from Galicia, a historic province straddling modern-day West Ukraine and southeast Poland. His father, Jakob Freud (1815–1896), a wool merchant, had two sons, Emanuel (1833–1914) and Philipp (1836–1911), by his first marriage. Jakob's family were Hasidic Jews and, although Jakob himself had moved away from the tradition, he came to be known for his Torah study. He and Freud's mother, Amalia Nathansohn, who was 20 years younger and his third wife, were married by Rabbi Isaac Noah Mannheimer on 29 July 1855. They were struggling financially and living in a rented room, in a locksmith's house at Schlossergasse 117 when their son Sigmund was born. He was born with a caul, which his mother saw as a positive omen for the boy's future.

In 1859, the Freud family left Freiberg.

Jakob Freud took his wife and two children (Freud's sister, Anna, was born in 1858; a brother, Julius born in 1857, had died in infancy) firstly to Leipzig and then in 1860 to Vienna where four sisters and a brother were born: Rosa (b. 1860), Marie (b. 1861), Adolfine (b. 1862), Paula (b. 1864), Alexander (b. 1866).

How was Freud's relationship with his parents?

The answer to this question could be found in the letters from Freud to Wilhelm Fliess, a Berlin nose and throat doctor with whom Freud carried on a passionate 15-year friendship. The letters suggested a greater anguish by Freud over the abandonment of the seduction theory and several details about his auto-analysis.

Mothers and Nannies

Amalia was considered by her grandchildren to be an intelligent, strong-willed, quick-tempered but egotistical personality. She has been described as lively and humorous, with a strong attachment to her eldest son whom she called "mein goldener Sigi".

Just as Amalia idolised her eldest son, so there is evidence that the latter in turn idealised his mother, whose domineering hold over his life he never fully analysed.

However, nannies or nurses were always present in the Viennese's bourgeois households. The Freud-Fliess letters attracted attention to Freud's nanny and also to the role played by nannies in the ideal family of psychoanalytic theory. Included in the models that explained the bourgeois family since the nineteenth century, but excluded by analytic theory, the nanny, ever present in Austrian upper-class families, still poses a question to the father-mother-infant triangle. The relevance of the nanny's presence in children's development is fundamental and could introduce themes such as adultery, sexual harassment by the master, illegitimate children.

Freud's interest in nannies began, it seems, with the analysis of the cases that would be known in the analytical literature as those that were in the origin of the 'seduction theory' – and also with his auto-analysis. His interest, though, extended well beyond the time of this emergence, as we will see.

Almost all of his patients had a nanny or nurse – some of them had two, what would lead to a curious unfolding of this character, either in the duo good mother/ bad nanny, or, in a kind of duplication, as good nanny/bad nanny.

Freud's nanny, from whom even the name is disputed, could have been a Czech woman, a catholic, who took him to masses and reproved him for being good for nothing. He wrote:

"Today's dream has, under the strongest disguise, produced the following: she was my teacher in sexual matters and complained because I was clumsy and unable to do anything."

In the next letter (October, 15), Freud registers what his mother had told him about the nanny. Asking her if she remembered the nanny, he got the answer:

"Of course", she said, "an elderly person, very clever, she was always carrying you off to some church; when you returned home you preached and told us all about God Almighty. During my confinement with Anna (two and a half years younger) it was discovered that she was a thief, and all the shiny new kreuzers and zehners [coins] and all the toys that had been given to you were found in her possession. Your brother Philipp himself fetched the policeman; she then was given ten months in prison."

Telling that his nanny made him steal money to give her, Freud interpreted his dream as a reproach for asking money from his patients for his bad treatment of them, in the same way as "the old woman got money from me for her bad treatment." The fact that Freud used his mother's remembrance to strengthen the interpretation he made of the dream –in which he was the thief - doesn't matter here, neither his identification with the nanny, observed by some analysts of this famous dream ("I = She"), but it is relevant to consider that it seems that it was with his auto-analysis that the nanny figure began to be seen as a malignant one or, in the best hypothesis, as an ambiguous one.

What needs explanation is how the theory of the Oedipus complex accounts for the boy's guilty impulses toward his mother but ignores the boy's arousal at the hands of his nurse, especially in view of how much more attention his nurse gets from Freud than his mother does.

Discussing the possible interpretations of Freud's dreams along his auto-analysis, many authors saw the relevance of the nanny's presence in his development until his conclusion that "the remarkable circumstance" is that Freud, in effect, had two mothers, his actual mother – whose nakedness he can only mention in Latin – and his nanny whom he remembers in association with numerous disturbing sexual experiences. Having two such mothers, and the luck of having the 'bad' ugly mother banished from his life when he was only two and a half, allows Freud to maintain a secure split between the internalized good and bad mothers.

Unconsciously, Freud's nurse was his seductress and shamer, his mother the pure object of guilty desire.

Thus Freud's discovery of the Oedipus complex emerges not only from memories of a small boy's guilty, aggressive lust for his mother, but from memories of dependence on her, too – a dependence remembered, however as the seduction of a small bourgeois, Austrian boy by a Czech working-class woman in a province of the Austrian Empire still recovering from the Revolution of 1848.

Freud's father

To begin with the so-called 'seduction theory': in 1896 Freud published a polemic article in which he attributed the origin of hysteria to a sexual trauma suffered by his female – and some male - patients that ranged from sexual harassment to sexual abuse in the hands of a member of the family: uncles (some of whom were revealed as fathers in subsequent publications), brothers, guardians, school colleagues, or nannies. He said that this trauma was "unhappily" caused "too frequently, by a near kin."

In this article he said that in 18 cases of hysteria until then analyzed by him (six men and twelve women), all of them showed this etiology, or cause, of the condition.

By 1897, Freud was spending six days a week analyzing his patients, many of them suffering from hysteria. Increasingly, their problems resonated with his own. Freud began to suspect that he too was neurotic, suffering from what he described as "a little case hysteria." He became consumed by his own self-analysis.

In the spring of 1897, Freud wrote his friend Fliess about a new patient, a young woman with hysterical symptoms: "It turned out that her supposedly otherwise noble and respectable father regularly took her to bed when she was eight to twelve years old and misused her…"

It was Freud wrote, "fresh confirmation" that the prime cause of hysteria was the sexual abuse of an innocent child by an adult, most often, a father. But his theory had alarming implications. If he himself suffered from a form of hysteria, and if an abusive father caused hysteria, then Freud was forced to draw a distressing conclusion. He began to imagine that his own father might have abused him. Three months after Jacob's death, he wrote Fliess: "Unfortunately, my own father was one of these perverts, and is responsible for the hysteria of my brother… and those of several younger sisters."

Freud realized that he can not get further in understanding others unless he analyzes himself. That was another one of those great ideas. [But] The dreams that he analyzed are not really particularly well analyzed.

Freud interpreted the message "close the eyes" in his dream after his father's death to mean that there was something he was not meant to see, nor to know about, his father. To make his theory work, his father's secret had to be that he had sexually abused his children. But, when he could find no evidence of such behavior and no clear memory of abuse among his brothers and sisters, his seduction theory collapsed.

By the next year, he began doubting his proposition, and wrote to Fliess: "I don't believe in my neurotica [neurosis theory] any more." Even if he mentioned the seduction theory in other letters of this year (and also years after), he began, then, to treat these denounces of his patients as a fantasy.

#vavuskapakage #sigmund freud #freud #historical figures #historical #History of psychology #oedipus complex #oedipus #psychoanalysis #Psychological projection #psychology #Seduction theory

[dumblydork]

Wasn't expecting to be back as a writer so soon but I just absolutely CANNOT get enough of writing headcanons and AUs and JUST BEAR WITH ME OKAY

Also I feel like this is super long but it might not be idk

Some more Hinny, with a bit of Romione! So this one is set in the modern magical world. Hope you enjoy! And don't forget, if you have absolutely ANY Hinny headcanons you'd want to see written, please drop me a message or an ask anytime and I'll do my best to write one 3>

~~

"This class just CANNOT get any worse." Ron muttered, drawing lazy lines with his pen on the History of Magic textbook they were reading.

"We literally live in 2020, do we really HAVE to study all this old age crap?" He continued, now shifting to drawing circles as the teacher droned on.

Harry for one, wasn't listening to the professor (though he did vaguely hear him mention 'Goblin War' but that was about it) and neither to Ron. Harry was busy staring out of the window onto the busy streets of London below their high classroom, thinking about a certain redhead.

A certain redhead who also happened his best friend's sister.

"Hi!" Hermione's voice came in an excited whisper as she started taking out her textbook, the dull grey of it made slightly happy with all the colourful muggle stickers (once affronted, she had told Harry that they were called 'Post Its' but Harry just could never bother with the name), full of notes and extra bits. Hermione was careful not to let the professor know that she was suddenly here, a thought which hit Harry when Ron exclaimed almost loudly before Hermione kicked his foot under the table to shut him up.

"I swear to Godric you weren't here literally a minute ago how- Harry?" Ron wondered, calling his best friend.

"Yes it's very odd Ron." Harry almost sighed, back to his brooding. Hermione was doing weird things always- it was nothing new.

"Please be like Harry and stop looking so surprised. Let me focus." Hermione sneered at Ron and whipped out her pencil, furiously noting down from the board whatever the professor had been droning on about for the past 45 minutes.

"And that, is all on the Goblin War of 1785 today. Make sure you finish your homework- remember, 4 pages on the magical strategies used by the two goblin sides to win the war. I need it handed in on Monday. Class dismissed." The professor walked out with his nose in the air, as if he had imparted the knowledge of a lifetime in one single lesson. He waved a lazy hand at the board which wiped off all the notes, releasing a few cries from the back where some kids were still making notes.

"Thank Godric that's over!" Ron could almost cry. Harry was back to paying attention, especially after Hermione slapped his hand. "Earth calling whatever planet Harry Potter is on!" She laughed. The three of them got up and walked out into the corridor.

"What lesson do we have next?" Harry asked absentmindedly.

"What's up with you today? You've been like this since we returned from the Burrow well over a week ago." Ron said thoughtfully, an arm slung carelessly around Hermione's shoulder, who was surprisingly okay with it.

Harry snapped back to reality. If Ron found out, it would be Harry's head and nothing else.

"And what about the two of you? Care to explain," Harry looked at the Ron's arm, "whatever this is? You two have been just finding ways for touching each other, don't think I haven't noticed." Harry finished with a whistle, knowing this was the nerve he had hit. He almost grinned to himself.

"That," Hermione shrug off the arm around her, blushing furiously, "is just two friends being friendly." She finished, but there was a considerable change in the pitch of her voice.

"Yes yes whatever." Harry flicked a lazy hand at the two, knowing fully well they had gotten up to something in the Burrow which was only between the two of them.

The trio had reached the cafeteria where they sat down on one of the empty benches, having half hour free before moving on to Harry's most despised class- Chemistry, or Potions as it was called in the older ages.

Harry let his thoughts move back to the Burrow (courtesy this couple who were now sitting with their sides practically touching). The Burrow was Ron's house, and the trio's favourite hangout. They were there for the summer break, which had ended a week ago, but the memories were still as old as yesterday.

"Oh please, I will kick your ass at Quidditch." Ginny, Ron's younger sister and the youngest Weasley piped, her fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Quidditch was the one thing Harry really enjoyed- it was rare to have Quidditch matches in school now with so much course load, so these summers were what he lived for.

Particularly this one summer where Ginny had turned up looking just gorgeous, something Harry had failed to notice in the 6 years he had known her. It wasn't as if she wasn't gorgeous before- it just struck him differently this time. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that she could make Harry laugh almost always. She was not only gorgeous- Ginny had developed a sense of humour and sarcasm quite unlike her brothers- they were fond of practical jokes, whereas Ginny was more of the sharp tongued type who could make an entire room laugh without as much as waving a hand. And it was absolutely fabulous. Harry had found himself staring at her practically everyday of summer since he came to the Burrow three months ago.

The way she tied her hair up, or how she bit her lip when exasperated with her Math homework and the way her lips opened slowly first when she laughed. The slight, barely perceptible crook in her teeth and the generous sprinkling of freckles all across her face. It was all suddenly very endearing to Harry.

And hence, midway through his last week at the Burrow, Harry had come to the conclusion that he had started fancying Ginevra Weasley, his best friend Ronald Weasley's younger sister. Not to mention practically Hermione's best friend, despite being an year younger.

So that was why Harry was barely able to keep his impulses in check when he saw Ginny in her Quidditch outfit, wearing a red and gold jersey with cream coloured bottoms. But when he thought of how he could have his ears boxed in by Ron, he could very much focus back on the match and not on a heart-achingly stunning redhead.

"Language, Ginny. This girl," Ron's mom, Molly, muttered under her breath, currently putting up laundry by swishing her wand back and forth. All of the Weasley siblings were back home at the Burrow, except for Percy and Bill, who were both busy working.

"Sorry mom! As I was saying Harry, I will definitely kick your bottom in this match." Ginny corrected herself.

"Please, we shall see." Lately it was getting increasingly difficult for him to produce coherent responses in front of the woman he had come to consider as practically a sarcastic goddess. But he was proud of this response- he should continue thinking about Ron's punches.

"Okay, positions, and go!" Harry heard Arthur, Ron's father say and the match began in earnest. Hermione was sitting this one down with a novel, but at the moment was preparing a jug of lemonade the Muggle way.

Ron and Harry were one team, whereas Ginny, George and Fred were another. The game lasted for a good 40 minutes before Harry and Ron won the game by obtaining the 'snitch' (which was actually just an enchanted flying ball, kindly given to them by Arthur who had an obsession for all things Muggle).

"What happened to all that talk of kicking ass, huh?" Harry laughed, almost falling into one of the reclining chairs. Molly was handing out cool glasses of lemonade. "I think mine needs more ice." Harry said, sipping from his glass.

"Oh I totally forgot the ice! My wand is in the kitchen though." She said sheepishly, not wanting to give up her spot on the recliner. Or rather not wanting to get up from her spot next to Ron, who had decided to perch himself on Hermione's recliner despite there being an extra empty one.

"That's okay, I'll get some myself." He grinned. "I'll come too- I need to change out of this." Ginny added. They walked back inside the Burrow which was empty, with the entire family outside in the garden.

Harry waved his wand which was lying on the kitchen counter into a bowl and ice appeared, shining in the sunlight but not melting. Magic.

He added a few to his glass and leaned on the counter, sipping lazily on the drink. It was good to be away from the noise for a minute. Ginny reappeared downstairs, having changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and unholy thoughts came rushing back into Harry's brain.

"I'll get some ice too, now that I'm here." Ginny took out an empty glass and filled it with ice, presumably wanting to fill it with lemonade later. But the way she took the ice gave Harry goosebumps- she leant across him instead of asking him to move and picked a few pieces of ice from behind him. Harry was frozen in his place- Ginny made no move whatsoever to stand behind. She stood inches away from Harry, just a few centimetres shorter than him.

"Oh for goodness sakes Harry, kiss me already." She rolled her eyes but the tip of her ears went red.

"What?" Harry spluttered- it was something he had been wanting to do since the start of summer but putting it into words stunned him of sorts. Was he THAT readable?

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you've looked at me all summer, Harry. It's not that difficult to know that you fancy me. A lot. And just so you know, I do too. A lot. Have done so since Ron introduced us.* She whispered, but stepped back after her confession.

Harry was still stunned, but could anyway notice the distance she had put, now slightly unsure after her brazenness. She still stared at him, her lips shaped into an imperceptible 'O', begging to be kissed. So that's what Harry did- he pulled Ginny back towards him by her waist and placed his lips on hers, almost tasting sunlight but with cherry swirled in it. His hands remained at her waist but Ginny moved hers to lock around Harry's neck, slowly playing with the curls at his nape. She smiled into the kiss, parting her lips were slightly, just so Harry could taste her; it was sinful but decadent. Very much like a good bar of chocolate. More than good. An absolutely unbelievable bar of chocolate.

When they finally pulled back after what could have been a lifetime, or an eternity, or a few seconds, Ginny grinned at Harry. "Do you not have anything to say?" She stood there's suddenly a bit shy, with her arms still around Harry's neck.

"You said all of it for me. I do fancy you- maybe way too much." He said, feeling as if Ginny's brazen confidence was transferred into his veins.

"That's a relief, because I might or might not have been looking to get you to kiss me." She said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"You what?" Harry stared at her incredulously, before breaking out into a wide smile.

"Don't worry, the bit about me fancying you is real. Have done so since I was 10." She added seriously.

"So are we a thing now?" Harry raised an eyebrow, quite enjoying the small circles he was making on Ginny's side.

"Keep dreaming on, Potter." She removed her hands from around his neck and disappeared like she had reappeared after changing, what felt like ages ago. Harry smiled to himself before walking outside again, his lemonade glass forgotten.

---

"Really Harry, one would think you're in love the way you're zoned out." Ron stared at him, as Harry snapped back into the real world.

"Huh? Oh yeah." He agreed absent mindedly, still reeling a bit from that summer afternoon.

"You're in love?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised as she looked up from what looked like homework.

"Forget me, but you do seem to be." Harry glanced at her notebook, which had R+H scribbled messily on the margins. He grinned as Hermione and Ron blushed furiously.

"Okay fine, me and Ron might have kissed at the Burrow." Hermione said, snapping her book shut as Ron stared at her longingly.

"How interesting, because me and Harry did something similar." Ginny suddenly appeared from behind and sat beside Harry, pressing her lips to his cheek.

The two boys stared back and forth. Ron's eyes widened but returned to their normal size, as Ron slung an arm around Hermione again, except this time she actually leaned into him.

"What? Is happening?" Harry looked around, first at the couple in front of him and then at Ginny. This was all extremely confusing.

"Did you think you were the only observant human to ever exist? Hermione Granger is my girlfriend, Harry. Nothing escapes her. Not when one of her best friends kisses another one of her best friends." Ron laughed.

"Wait so you're not mad?" Harry was still shaken. Was his worrying all a waste? If he'd known, he could have spent more time with Ginny, locked behind doors, his lips on hers-

"Why would I be? I'd rather Ginny end up with you rather than some other git from school." Ron's voice cut into his thoughts breezily.

"Oh. Okay." Harry settled before smiling at Ginny and weaving his hand through hers.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry's eyes widened.

"Wait. Hermione Granger is your girlfriend?!" The typical Potter late realisation. The three people around him laughed heartily before Harry joined in, shooting Ginny an endearing look, making the tips of her ears turn red.

#hinny au #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter headcanon #harry x ginny #hinny headcanon #hinny #headcanon #school #romione #ron x hermione

[bangtanreadingcorner]

rumor has it [1/2] • jung hoseok

plot — your best kept secret comes out and it becomes a hot topic around your university. it also brings you and hoseok closer.

words — 3.5K

You are going to lose it.

Seriously. The next person who asks you if the rumor is true, Lord help them, you are going to go bat-shit crazy on them.

You also swore off drinking indefinitely because if you hadn't been so inebriated, you would have taken another shot instead of telling the truth. Well, maybe not because it was because of drinking shots that you ended up in this mess in the first place.

So, yeah, drinking was out of the picture for the moment.

In all honesty, you weren't embarrassed about it. About still being a virgin. You made your choice a long time ago, and you choose to stick by it. You didn't want a perfect first time, or to wait until marriage, but you want to be comfortable with the person and you want it to feel right. You've never felt that with anyone before.

And if that made you a prude in the eyes of society, well then they can go fuck themselves for all you care. You'll wait until the time is right.

You looked up, to see where your feet had taken you and was it was in the Quad. It was just a large patch of grass with picnic tables place in it. For either eating or studying or just taking a break.

You sat down at a table, and barely twenty seconds after you sat down, three guys approached you. The one in the middle opened his mouth, "Hey! Y/N, is it true?"

You sincerely hoped it wasn't what you think it was, so you decided to give the idiot the benefit of the doubt. "Is what true?"

"That you're a virgin. I wanted to know if it's true, that's all." He said with a dirty smirk, making no secret of the fact that he was trying to check you out - the picnic table hid most of your body so it didn't work as well as he hoped.

"Yes, it's true." You snapped, voice harsh as the last of your patience swiftly ran out. "Rumor also has it you're an insensitive moron. So glad we could both confirm the running gossip. Now fuck off."

The guy scoffed, "Now wonder you're still a virgin. No one likes an uptight bitch."

"Now wonder you're still single. No one likes an stupid dick." You smirked up at him, watching in amusement as he stalked off with his two friends that looked a little embarrassed.

Ah, how you love using people's own words against them. Nothing makes a person angrier than that. It's really amusing too.

There was two more incidents - two girls that were curious, and one guy who offered his experience to you. Ugh.

Your stomach dropped when you saw the next person who approached you because you actually like this guy.

"Oh, not you, too, Hoseok." You groaned when you saw him, dropping your head down on your books.

"What?" Hoseok asked, bewildered, as he slid into the seat opposite you.

You peaked at him, cheek laying on your books, "Aren't you here to find out if the rumor is true and then mock me and judge me?"

"What rumor?" He asked, a little confused, as you sat upright. You just gave him a flat look and waited. You saw the dots connect in his mind. "Right. That rumor."

"Yeah." You gave him a humorless smile.

Hoseok shook his head, expression gentle as he looked at you. "Well, no. I'm not. One, it's none of my business. And two, it'd be hypocritical if I judged you."

"Why would it-" You cut yourself off as realisation set in, your eyes widened in disbelief as you inhaled sharply. "No way."

Hoseok laughed, his face lighting up and dimples on display, "It's true."

"I don't believe it." You laughed in disbelief. Hoseok had to be pulling your leg.

"Believe it." He nodded.

"You? Seriously?" You couldn't wrap your head around it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned at you.

"I don't mean anything by it, it's just . . ." You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts and then settled with your default setting: brutal honesty. "Well, to be perfectly honest, you're like a wet dream come to life and it's a little hard to believe."

Hoseok's cheeks flushed and a satisfied warmth stirred in your belly, "I, uh, I've never wanted to. I mean, I've had girlfriends before but never enough to want to take them to bed."

"Now that, I understand. I've had two boyfriends and both of them I dropped when they kept pressuring me for more and I didn't want too." You told Hoseok who nodded along with what you said.

"Yeah, I know right. I mean, one of my ex-girlfriends accused me of not loving her." Hoseok actually pouted a bit as he spoke. You giggled at the sight, endeared by him. "She was right thought, I didn't love her. I liked her a lot, but it wasn't love. I don't think I've ever been in love. Not really." He looked at you. "Have you ever been in love?"

"I don't know." You admitted. "I mean, how do you know when you love someone? It's not like you can measure it."

"That's a fair question. I mean, I guess it's something you just know. Like, when you listen to a song and you know you love it after listening to it once. Maybe it's like that." Hoseok said and then suddenly he looked down, seeming embarrassed. "Sorry, you probably think that's dumb."

"No, no, not at all. I think it kind of fits." You said hastily, not wanting him draw the wrong conclusions. "I actually understand what you said more than when someone tries to tells me about how sometimes love is fate or destiny or written in the stars." You pulled a face.

Hoseok laughs and it makes you laugh back.

"Did you want something?" You asked him, when you both calmed down, still smiling.

"Huh?" He asked, clearly a little confused. You thought he looks adorable.

"You came over here," You reminded him. "I assume it was to ask or tell me something."

"Oh yeah." Hoseok's cheeks flushed again as realisation lit in his eyes. "I just wanted you to know that Jae is adjusting nicely to the classes."

A smile automatically spread on your lips at the mention of your nine year old sister. She recently started hip-hop classes and that was actually how you met Hoseok, he's her teacher. One afternoon your mother asked you to pick her up after practice and you and Hoseok talked a bit, and you found out that you go to the same university but just different major's. His is dance and yours is business.

"I'm glad." You smiled wider at him. "You didn't have to come all the way over here to tell me that though."

Hoseok let out a nervous laugh, rubbing at the nape of his neck as he looked at you shyly. "I also wanted to know if I can buy you a coffee sometime, maybe? I wanted to ask you out the day we met, I didn't think it would be appropriate, 'cause I was at work and all."

Now it was your turn to blush, pleasantly surprised by his offer. You had found yourself liking your sister's dance teacher, too, but you didn't know if he would say yes. And he wasn't some random guy could ask out and just forget if he says no.

You smiled, cheeks on fire as you looked at him. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"How does Saturday sound?" Hoseok asked excitedly and your stomach dropped.

"I can't, sorry." You told him, watching as his face fell. "Not because I don't want too. It's just, I promised my mom I'd spend the whole Saturday with her and my sister because according to her she doesn't see me enough." You hurried to explain.

Hoseok smiled again and your heart lifted, "Okay, how about Sunday afternoon?"

You don't think you've ever nodded so fast in your life. "Yes, that's perfect."

***

That Saturday when you went home, your mom squinted at you as you hopped on the kitchen counter as she made breakfast. "What is going on with you?"

"Nothing." You smiled innocently at your mother. She's been giving you looks since you arrived.

"Am I suppose to believe that all this smiling and the happy sparkle in your eyes is from nothing?" She asked, raising a brow. You decided to tell her because you and your mom have always been close. And you've been wanting to tell someone who won't tease you about Hoseok. Your best friends Minji and Jamie does that enough. You also wanted to tell her before she finds out by herself. You would never live it down.

"I'll tell you, but I don't want you to make a big deal out of this, okay, mom?" You said, grinning excitedly.

Her curiousity effectively peaked, your mom nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, I won't. Promise."

"Okay, so, there's this guy I really, really like and we're going out tomorrow." You gushed, barely holding in a squeal as your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

Your mother gasped, a smile of joy spreading on his lips. "Oh, oh! This is wonderful news. Who is this young man that's managed to capture your attention? Is he nice? I hope he's not a troublemaker like your second boyfriend. Why, I heard the other day that he got arrested from breaking into someone's home. Can you believe that?"

You winced at the reminder of your second boyfriend. Not one of your proudest moments but you had a lot of fun with him. Right up until he wanted to get into your pants. The relationship went downhill pretty quick after you said no.

"I can't say I'm surprised." You admitted, because he always liked to skirt at the edge of the law, it was only a matter of time before he broke it. Luckily you got away before it went that far.

"Enough about him, though. Tell me about this boy of yours." Your mom pushed with glittering eyes.

You cheeks flushed, "Well, he's not mine yet, mom. And it's just a coffee date."

"Tell me his name then." She prodded hopefully.

You gave her a sheepish smile, "I can't, sorry."

"Why not?" She frowned.

"Because you know him." Now you smirked at her, knowing she'll drive herself crazy, trying to figure out who he is.

***

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous.

Oh, no, wait. You could. It was right before you went to get your final results for high school. You didn't sleep that night and you barely slept Saturday night. Falling asleep early Sunday morning and sleeping until finally your alarm woke you up at 11:00AM.

You immediately started getting ready. You took a shower, used a hairdyer for the first time this year (air-drying is much easier and more fun) before taking a hair straightner to your unruly mop of curls. You picked a nice outfit but decided to forego make-up. That would be too over the top for you.

Your phone buzzed with a text a little after 03:00PM.

You smiled widely when you saw who it was. You and Hoseok had exchanged numbers after he asked you out and kept in touch over the last week.

Hoseok

See you in a bit.

You

Can't wait!

You walked to the cafe you two agreed to meet at, nervous but also excited. You entered the cafe and heard your name being called by a familiar voice.

A smile automatically spread on your lips as you walked to the table where Hoseok was waving from. You couldn't even find it in yourself to care about the people staring at you. He stands up when you arrive at the table and goes to pull out your chair but you wave him off with a smile.

"Hey, I'm not late, right?" You asked with a nervous smile.

Hoseok shakes his head, beaming at you. "Nope, I'm early."

You looked at the time on your phone and smiled. 03:24PM. You're both early then. Sure, only six minutes, but it's a good sign, right?

"How've you been?" You ask as you pushed your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

"Good. I actually caught up on some overdue work, yesterday. You?"

"I'm fine. It was nice spending time with my mom and my sister."

The waitress comes up to your table with a notebook. "Are you ready to order?"

Hoseok's sunny grin dims a bit. "I forgot to give her the menu."

"It's okay." You laughed brightly. "I come here often, so I know what I want." You assured him, then looked at the waitress. "I'd like a bubblegum milkshake and a big chocolate muffin."

"Okay," The waitress nods, repeating your order as she writes and you confirm it. She turns at Hoseok, "And for you?"

"I'd like a hazelnut latte and a waffle with peppermint and chocolate ice cream." He orders. You both wait until the waitress leaves before resuming your conversation.

"Interesting choice. The hot with the cold." You grin at him.

"Mmn, I didn't take you for having a sweet tooth."

You froze for a bit because normally you don't have a sweet tooth, not really, but it's not like you could tell him you're having pre-period cravings.

"Depends on my mood." You said instead, and it was the truth. You ate whatever you were in the mood for in general, not just when you are on your period. But you also like salty food more than sweet, but whenever you crave something sweet, it's usually because of your monthly gift from Eve.

Hoseok nods, accepting the answer. He tilts his head at you, "How's your mom and sister?"

"Well, my sister is an adorable little pain in the ass like always and my mom is starting a list of all the guys she knows, but overall they're good." You told him, laughing a bit as you spoke.

"Do I want to know?" He looked at you, equal parts curious and wary.

"I don't know, do you?" You asked teasingly, smiling at him, wiggling your eyes brows.

He thought for a moment, "Yeah, I do."

"It's nothing bad. I just told my mom about our date, and when she asked for your name, I told her that I can't tell her because she knows you."

Hoseok frowned ever so slightly, "Why didn't you want to tell her?"

"Because I don't want her to bombard you with personal questions until we figure out where we want this to go." You explained, gesturing between the two of you with your index finger.

Hoseok's eyes twinkled with mischief and laughter as he asked, "Ah, so she can ask me the personal questions after we start dating then?"

"Oh, yeah," You nodded, liking the idea of dating Hoseok all too much. "You'll have to prepare yourself to answer anything from what your first word was, to what brand and colour underwear you wear."

Hoseok burst out laughing and you smiled as you watch him. You like the way he laughs, unrestrained and so fully. It makes you feel warm inside.

You talk about this and that until your order arrives. Technically it was dessert, rather than food but eh, neither of you minded. And this was supposed to be a coffee date. It was already better than you two planned.

"Jung Hoseok." You called him seriously, after you finished eating your muffin, fiddling with the straw of your milkshake.

He sobered up, looking a little startled, "Yeah?"

"I adore you." You said, giving him a soft, slow smile.

His cheeks flushed and you realised you like making him blush.

Hoseok looked at you, eyes serious despite his red cheeks. "I really like you, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks and your heart picked up its pace. You looked down, sipping on your melting milkshake. When both of you were done eating and finished drinking, you ordered another milkshake and Hoseok ordered another latte.

Neither of you were ready to go home yet.

"So, why dance?" You asked him somewhere after your third milkshake, curious.

"I've always found it easier to express myself with my body rather than words." He shrugged, looking a little shy. "It's my greatest passion. When I'm dancing, I'm free."

"I'd like to watch you dance sometime. If you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure. I don't mind." Hoseok shook his head. "Why business?" He asked in return.

"Promise you won't laugh?" You asked first, looking at him seriously.

"I promise."

"And you can't tell anyone and I'll know if you have because I haven't told anyone. Not even my mom, but I think she suspects."

"I won't." Hoseok swore, sitting a little straighter.

"I want to start my own shoe store. Originally I wanted to study something in a fashion direction, I like designing shoes, but the industry is tough to get into. So, I figured I'll start smaller and work my way up." You looked down at the table, fiddling with a serviette.

"Wow. That's like . . .your whole future planned out." Hoseok said, looking at you with wide eyes.

You snorted, "Not really. It's just a dream. It's going to take hard work to make it into a reality."

"You can do it. I believe in you." He said, so sincere that you had no choice but to believe him.

When you finally went home, it was dark and Hoseok walked you back to your dorm room. Halfway there, he brushed his hand against yours and when he slid his palm against yours, you happily entwined you'd fingers.

You opened your door and turned to him, ready to say something but he beat you to it.

"I had a really great time today." He said with that ever present sunny smile that made your heart sing when he directed it at you.

"Me too. It was much better than I expected." You said, only realising after his smile dropped how that might have sounded to him. "Not that I expected it to be bad, just a little awkward because you make me nervous. Really nervous. But it wasn't awkward at all. I was comfortable from the beginning."

"Oh." Hoseok breathed softly, and you could heard the relief in that one syllable. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we could do it again, sometime?"

"Oh, we better." You told him seriously.

"Well, I should get going. We have class tomorrow." He took a step back from you, clearly intent on leaving. You looked at him with raised brows.

"You're really not going to try for a goodnight kiss?" You laughed.

Hoseok let out an indignant huff, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hey, don't laugh at me. I'm trying to be a gentleman here."

You positively melted from his words, heart speeding up. You gave him a look full of adoration. "Hoseok, you are always a gentleman and I appreciate it," Your gaze turned a bit mischievous. "But you should know that I've been wondering what it would be like to kiss you since the day we met."

His eyebrows rose, jaw going slack as he looked at you in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, really." You nodded, amused. "So, whenever you're feeling like being ungentlemanly, just know I wouldn't be opposed to it."

"Okay." He nodded dumbly and you laughed.

"Good night, Hoseok." You told him fondly.

"Night." Hoseok echoed, taking another step back and then turning away from you. You waited until he reached the stair case before you closed your door, letting out a squeal of happiness.

You took of your shoes, haphazardly kicking them into the shoe rack, pulling off your baby pink sweater as you padded to your room, humming with a gigantic grin on your face.

It wasn't five minutes since you arrived home when a knock sounded on your door. You threw your sweater on the bed, heading to the door.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You called, and the incessant knocking ceased. Probably Minji or Jamie that wants to borrow a book or some paper to print a project. You opened the door, frowning slight when you saw who was on the other side, "Hoseok? Is everything okay?"

"I'm not feeling very gentlemanly right now." He declared before stepping closer, grabbing you by the neck and kissing you until you were breathless, your socked covered toes curling.

"Good night." He said when he pulled away, then added on, "For real this time."

You laughed a little, feeling so ridiculously happy. You wondered if you could combust from it.

"Text me when you get home." You blurted, still catching your breath.

"Promise." He nodded, licking his lips. You leaned forward to peck them one last time. For now.

You laughed again, practically vibrating with giddiness as you closed the door for a second and final time.

***

AUTHOR'S NOTE: !!this is not the end!! *pouts* Tumblr told me that I filled all of my 250 boxes, so I have to split it. It's like my fic duet all over again. *le sigh* Idek how people write 12K fics and still fit it in.

part two

#bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bts fic #jung hoseok #hoseok #btsjhope #bts hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x oc #jung hoseok x you #hoseok x you #hoseok x oc #hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

This can't get any worse, (Y/n) thinks as Filch drags her down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor. What the (H/C) haired girl didn't know, was that Harry and Hermione - still under the Invisibity Cloak - had followed the two.

There's no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall will accept being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest Astronomy Tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes, (Y/n) thinks miserably.

When Professor McGonagall appears, she looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towers over (Y/n).

"I would never have believed it of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the Astronomy Tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourself," McGonagall orders.

(Y/n) sits still, her emerald eyes flicking sadly for a moment, and Harry and Hermione exchange a look under the Cloak. Then - to Harry and Hermione's astonishment - (Y/n) speaks.

"I was helping Hagrid," (Y/n) says softly, and McGonagall's expression changes to something (Y/n) couldn't read. "Hagrid had a baby dragon. I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I sent a letter to someone who cares for dragons so they would take him. I just had to get the dragon to the Astronomy Tower."

"Miss (L/n), though you had good intentions for helping a friend, it was unacceptable to be walking around the school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - a hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor."

(Y/n)'s face seems to fall even more and Harry and Hermione exchange another look from under the cloak.

"Now, get back to bed," McGonagall says, her voice softening at the expression on (Y/n)'s face.

(Y/n) nods and walks out of the office and silently up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Hermione close behind their friend.

The Portrait Hole opens and (Y/n) walks straight up the stairs to her dorm.

Marvel looks up at her companion, and curls up with her friend.

(Y/n) didn't sleep all night, dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what she had done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the House points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly be a hundred points fewer than yesterday?

And then the story starts to spread: (Y/n) (L/n), friend to the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all the house points, in one night.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, (Y/n) was suddenly one of the most hated. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on her, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Everywhere (Y/n) went, people point and don't bother to lower their voices as they insult her. Slytherins, on the other hand, clap as she walks past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks (L/n), we owe you one."

Only Ron, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley Twins stood by her.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks," Ron says soothingly on morning at breakfast as every sends (Y/n) hostile glares. "Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"But they haven't lost a hundred points in one go, though, have they?" asks (Y/n) miserably as someone loudly asks Harry why he was friends with the 'rubbish Gryffindor Mudblood.'

"Well - no," Ron admits.

It is a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from no on, coming to the conclusion that (Y/n) receiving all the hate was his fault for forgetting the cloak at the top of the tower. He'd had it with sneaking around and spying.

(Y/n) felt so ashamed of herself that she had went to Oliver Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Wood thunders. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team - excluding Harry, George, and Fred - wouldn't speak to her, and if they had to speak about her, they called her 'the Seeker.'

Hermione was suffering too, just because she was (Y/n)'s sister, and no one would speak to her, either. Hermione and (Y/n) had stopped drawing attention to themselves in class, keeping their heads down and working in silence.

(Y/n) was actually glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying she is doing keeping her away from her misery. (Y/n), Harry, Ron, and Hermione keep to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions . . .

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he hears somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he draws closer,he hears Quirrell's voice.

"No — no — not again, please —"

It sounds as though someone is threatening him. Harry moves closer.

"All right — all right —" he hears Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell comes hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He is pale and looks as though he was about to cry. He strides out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waits until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peers into the classroom. It is empty, but a door stands ajar at the other end. Harry is halfway toward it before he remembers what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step — Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry goes back to the library, where Hermione is testing Ron on Astronomy, (Y/n) buried in her extra complicated - at least to Harry and Ron - Potions notes, Harry tells them what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" says Ron. "If Quirrell's told time how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell -"

"There's still Fluffy though," Hermione reasons.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," Harry says, looking around at the thousands of books surrounding them.

"I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a three-headed dog," Ron adds. "So what do we do, Harry?" The light of adventure is kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answers before Harry can.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" says Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor — who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looks convinced, but Ron doesn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around -"

"No," (Y/n) speaks for what seems to be the first time in a week, "we've done enough poking around."

The following morning, a note is delivered to (Y/n) at the breakfast table:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor M. McGonagall

(Y/n) had forgotten she still had a detention to do in the furor over the points she'd lost.

At eleven o'clock that night, (Y/n) says goodbye to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and goes down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there - and so was Malfoy. (Y/n) had almost forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.

"Follow me," says Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he says, leering at them. "Oh yes . . . hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. . . . It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed. . . .Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They march off across the dark grounds. (Y/n) wonders what their punishment is going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. The moon is bright, but clouds scudding across it keep throwing them into darkness. Ahead, (Y/n) can see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they hear a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

(Y/n)'s heart rises; if they are going to be working with Hagrid, it wouldn't be so bad. Her relief must have shown on her face, because Filch says, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, girl — it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.

At this, Malfoy stops dead in his tracks."The forest?" he repeats, and he doesn't sound as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard."

"That's your problem, isn't it?" says Filch, his voice cracking with glee."Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid comes striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He is carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hangs over his shoulder. "Abou' time," he says. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, (Y/n)?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," says Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" says Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," says Filch, "for what's left of them," he adds nastily, and he turns and starts back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turns to Hagrid. "I'm not going in that forest," he says, and (Y/n) feels a little pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," says Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd —"

"— tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growls. "Copyin' lines!What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy doesn't move. He looks at Hagrid furiously, but then drops his gaze.

"Right then," says Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He leads them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he points down a narrow, winding earth track that disappears into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifts their hair as they look into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday.We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" asks Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," says Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood allover the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"So me and Mafoy'll go one way an' (Y/n) an' Fang'll go the other, I know yer good with spells and such (Y/n). Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now -that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest is black and silent. A little way into it they reach a fork in the earthy path, and Malfoy and Hagrid take the left path while (Y/n) and Fang take the right.

(Y/n) lights up the tip of her wand, walking in silence, her eyes trained on the ground. Every now and then, a ray of moonlight through the branches above lights up a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

After about an hour, (Y/n) walks through the forest with Fang. They walk for about half-an-hour more, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path becomes almost impossible to follow because the trees are so thick. (Y/n) thinks that the blood seems to be getting thicker. There are splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. (Y/n) can see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

Something bright white is gleaming on the ground and (Y/n) inches closer.

That's definitely the unicorn, (Y/n) thinks, and it's dead. She had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs are sticking out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane is spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

(Y/n) takes one step towards it when a slithering sound makes her freeze where she stands. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivers . . . Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure comes crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. (Y/n) and fang stand, transfixed. The cloaked figure reaches the unicorn, lowers its head over the wound in the animal's side, and begins to drink its blood.

Fang lets out a howl and bolts. The hooded figure raises its head and looks right at (Y/n) - unicorn blood dribbling down its front. It gets to its feet and comes swiftly towards (Y/n) and she scrambles back.

Then a pain like she'd never felt before seems to pierce her whole left side. It feels as thought her scar was on fire and she claps her hand to it.

Through the pain, she lifts her wand but then she hears hooves behind her, galloping, and something jumped clean over (Y/n), charging at the figure.

When (Y/n) looks up, the cloaked figure had gone, and a half human, half horse is standing over her. A centaur! (Y/n) realizes.

"Are you alright?" asks the centaur, pulling (Y/n) to her feet, though she hadn't remembered falling.

"Yes - thank you - what was that?"

The centaur doesn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looks carefully at (Y/n) his eyes lingering at the collar of her shirt where half of her scar stands out, livid against (Y/n)'s skin.

"You are the (L/n) girl," he says. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. My name is Firenze," he adds as he lowers himself onto his front legs so (Y/n) can clamber onto his back, her wand still clutched in her right hand.

There is suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Two other centaurs come bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" one thunders. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is Bane?" asks Firenze. "This is the (L/n) girl. The quicker she leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growls Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

The other centaur paws the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze though he was acting for the best," he says in a gloomy voice.

Bane kicks his back legs in anger. "For the best Ronan! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly rears on his hind legs in anger so that (Y/n) had to grab his shoulders to keep from sliding off the centaur's back. "Did you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellows at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.

And Firenze whisks around; with (Y/n) clutching on as best she can, they plunge off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

(Y/n) didn't have a clue what was going on."Why's Bane so angry?" she asks. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slows to a walk, warns (Y/n) to keep her head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but does not answer her question. They make their way through the trees in silence for so long that (Y/n) began to think Firenze didn't want to talk to her anymore. They are passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stops.

"(Y/n) (L/n), do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," answers (Y/n), startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," says Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life,from the moment the blood touches your lips."

(Y/n) stares at the back of Firenze's head, which is dappled silver in the moonlight.

"But who'd be that -" then (Y/n) trails off, coming to a sudden realization. "Do you mean," (Y/n) asks, her voice shaking slightly, "that was -"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), are you alright?" Malfoy, Fang, and Hagrid were running towards them down the path.

"I'm fine," (Y/n) answers, not even knowing what she was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmurs as Hagrid hurries off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

(Y/n) slides off the centaur's back.

"Good luck, (Y/n) (L/n)," says Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

The centaur turns and canters back into the depths of the forest, leaving (Y/n) shivering behind him. Malfoy studies (Y/n) curiously, wondering what had happened in the with the usually strong willed girl.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry and fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for (Y/n) to return. Ron shouts something about Quidditch fouls when (Y/n) shakes the three awake.

In a matter of seconds, though, all three them are wide-eyed as (Y/n) began to tell them what had happened in the forest.

The green eyed girl couldn't sit down, she paces up and down in front of the fire, still shaking; Marvel's green eyes are following her owner she paces.

"Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort . . . and Voldemort's waiting in the forest . . . and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich . . ." Harry rambles, his scar on his forehead prickling.

"Stop saying the name!" says Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so. . . . Bane was furious . . . he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen. . . . They must show that Voldemort's coming back. . . . Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. . . . I suppose that's written in the stars as well," (Y/n) says.

"But why?!" asks Hermione, her voice shaking. "Why would he come after you?"

Everyone turns to (Y/n), as though she had an answer, and (Y/n) realized that she most definitely did.

The others watch as (Y/n) pulls down the collar of her shirt a little, and they stare at the scar - identical to Harry's - on her skin.

"A week before Christmas, I had a dream, well, not really a dream, more of a memory," (Y/n) begins, and tells her friends about the dream and Harry looks up into (Y/n)'s eyes.

"So you were on your way to my house?" Harry asks.

"Apparently," (Y/n) says.

"So all we've got to do now is wait for Snape to steal the Stone," Harry says feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come finish us off . . . Well, from what I heard, Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looks very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, (Y/n)," Hermione begins. "Everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stop talking. They go to bed exhausted, their throats sore.

Word Count: 3751 words

#hermione granger x sister reader

[makeste]

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

hey everyone, so can we talk about this?

this is the first time that Katsuki has talked about his own personal shortcomings to such an extent. he’s flirted with acknowledging them out loud before, at the provisional course, and we know he’s been working on improving himself, because we saw the change during the joint training arc. but this is the first time he has actually come right out and admitted that there is something he knows he’s missing, and that his goal now is to find it.

so there are two parts of this that I want to break down and discuss. let’s start with this:

“I’ve learned that just because I’m strong in a fight, that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.”

JBox translated this as “I’ve learned that pure strength isn’t enough to become strong.” I’m curious as to how Viz will word it. but it’s Mangastream’s translation that really piqued my interest. “that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.” correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this is the first time Katsuki has ever talked about himself as a person at all. up to this point he’s seemed to have zero interest in any kind of self-reflection. and even now, he’s still bringing it up in a context of strength. he needs to be “strong” as a person because that will help him become stronger as a hero. but regardless of how he frames it, or whether or not he’s only seeking it because it pertains to his goal of surpassing the number one, this is still huge IMO for him to bring up strength of character and acknowledge that it’s still something that’s eluding him.

and it’s not like this hasn’t been brought to his attention before. for all of his strengths, his personality is the one thing that’s been consistently singled out by virtually everyone he’s ever met as a glaring fault. and yet he doesn’t seem to have ever given this real thought until recently. possibly because he didn’t think it actually mattered in the big picture. or maybe it’s because until recently, he was able to shrug off those accusations because he knew that deep down he was good where it really counted. like, yeah, he might swear a lot and he might not get along with people and maybe his temper gets the better of him at times. but he was able to brush that off because he knows deep down that he’s a hero. and not just any hero, but the person who’s going to become the best hero. and so he had faith in his own integrity, and didn’t let other people’s perceptions bother him, because who the hell cares what anyone else thinks.

but note that I did say “until recently.” because in the last six months or so story-wise, a lot has changed. things which have sent little parachutes of self-doubt sailing over Katsuki’s formerly impenetrable walls of indifference. he was singled out as a target by villains. yeah, they were wrong about him, but it still says something that they thought he was a good prospect. and not just them, but everyone. the press gathered together less than 48 hours after a child was kidnapped, and felt comfortable speculating about whether or not said child was unhinged and destined to follow the villain path. yeah, Aizawa shot them down, but Katsuki still got a behind-the-scenes documentary feature look at how some of the actions he’d never before given a second thought to were actually affecting the world’s judgment of his moral character.

and then All Might lost his power at Kamino. something which Katsuki felt was his fault. and then, directly on the heels of that, there was the shock of realizing that the childhood friend he’d maligned and tormented for years had ended up being All Might’s chosen successor. and there are so many ways that Katsuki could have responded to that realization. being jealous of Deku. being derisive of All Might’s choice. but instead, his reaction to learning Deku had it right was to immediately follow it up with: so I’m wrong. and just, wow, though. and then, of course, this was all compounded even more when he failed the provisional license exam. so now we have the villains, the general public, and the heroes -- or at least, the people in charge of deciding who gets to be a hero -- all hitting him up with various different versions of you are flawed, you are deficient.

anyway, thankfully at this point he did something he’s never done before and actually reached out to someone, even if it was in the most shounen way ever (“should I just talk to my rival like a normal person? nah I’ll challenge him to a fight”). and he and Deku had a heart to heart via their fists, and then All Might gave him a hug and some good mentor advice. so the worst of that line of thinking was curbed before it could become more damaging. and he seems to have rebounded since and is back to his old confident ways.

buuuuuut. we have seen him paying more attention to other people’s remarks than he seemed to before. maybe this was something he always did, but just pretended like he didn’t. hard to say. but there’s no denying the way that Horikoshi made it a Thing during the Band AU arc, when we saw those upperclassman grousing about how “class 1-A is the one causing all the trouble” and then Katsuki listening in, stony-faced. and then he got really pissed off and ranted about it afterward.

so yeah. and then more recently, during the joint training arc, we also had that incident where Monoma -- on camera, with Katsuki watching, and we know for a fact there was sound because U.A. based their teaching model on The Hunger Games, and also the kids were able to hear Shinsou’s voice-changing shenanigans earlier -- was all “SO HOW ABOUT THAT TIME THAT BAKUGOU CAUSED THE DOWNFALL OF THE SYMBOL OF PEACE, EH.” which marked the first time we confirmed that Katsuki isn’t the only one who’s made that connection. mind you, I don’t think Monoma actually meant it; he was just trying to rile Deku up into talking so he could pull the ol’ Jedi mind trick. but still, the fact that he had that remark ready to go means that it must have crossed his mind before. and at this point I think it’s pretty safe to say he’s not the only one. it’s an obvious enough conclusion to draw, and society was a hot mess for a while following Kamino, and it was the kind of thing where I’m sure that a lot of people, shaken up in the aftermath of this disaster and struggling to process it, would be looking to assign blame.

so now Katsuki, who formerly did not give a shit and was very proud and upfront about his lack of shit-giving, has been more or less forced to confront the fact that like it or not, his behavior -- and other people’s perceptions of it -- maybe matters a little more than he thought. and it seems like maybe he’s become a bit more sensitive to that lately. a little more aware.

I think it must be frustrating for him in some ways, because he knows that he’s good and that his intentions are good, but he has difficulty conveying that. and the other thing is that he’s not the type of boy to ever have people actually say to him, “hey, you’re a nice guy.” (Kirishima, I think, is the only one that might have actually said that sentence to him -- I feel like he has? -- and honestly there’s a reason why Katsuki trusts him so much, and things like this are no small part of it.) “amazing”, sure. he gets that all the time. and “strong”, which is the adjective he himself uses the most when talking about things he admires. but never good. and he might not ever show any signs of needing that type of reinforcement, but (a) sometimes we don’t know that we need something, especially if it’s something we’ve never had before, and (b) even if Katsuki was in any way adept at identifying his emotional needs (he’s not), the odds of him ever mustering up the will to actually ask are slim to say the least.

but no child wants to be bad. Katsuki’s one and only desire since he was very little has been to become a great hero. and heroes are inherently good. this boy, for all his surliness and stubbornness and toeing-the-line, works hard. he listens to his teachers. he studies. he fights fairly, and shows honor in other ways (like fessing up immediately to being the first one to throw a punch). he shows kindness and gratitude and concern in his own prickly ways as well. his goodness isn’t the kind that comes up to you and slaps you in the face, but it still manages to shine through like sunlight through a cloudy filter. he is a good person. and I think that sometimes, during his more intense moments of self-doubt, he may have wondered if maybe he’s not. but he is.

and having said all of that, one of the things I would like to see at some point in the future is for someone to actually tell him that. for him to get that validation. because I think that’s something he’s seeking, even if he’s not aware of it. even now he still has the media censoring his interviews, as if they’re worried he’ll somehow corrupt the viewers with his attitude. even though the whole reason he’s being interviewed is because he proved himself through his actions. somehow it’s still not enough. so I just think it’s something that would mean a lot to him to hear. “you are strong, but also you’re a good person.” so yeah. All Might, maybe -- get on that.

moving on now to the second part of this essay!

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

you know what I find interesting about this? at first glance, one might assume that he’d already solved this mystery. doy, the kid that only ever thought about winning and victory has to learn how to help others. we got that already; All Might broke it down for us nice and clear back in chapter 120. we’re good.

and the thing is, it really seems like we are good, doesn’t it? Katsuki passed his remedial exam with flying colors. he and Todo saved a bunch of would be purse-snatching victims, and he even saved their wallets (that makes it sound like he got them to save 15% or more by switching to Geico lol but NO, IN THIS CASE IT WAS LITERAL). and let’s not forget that dominant performance during the joint training arc, in which he both allowed himself to be rescued, and breezily rescued others with no qualm. by all measures, it would appear that he has embraced this new way of heroing, and seems to be taking to it as naturally as he takes to everything else.

so then the question arises: if he already figured out that IT’S THE RESCUING, STUPID, then why is he still talking about “what he lacks” as though there is still something he’s missing? and not just missing, but as-yet-unidentified to boot. he doesn’t actually know what it is. he’s trying to figure it out.

so I have a few guesses, but since this essay is already running long, I’m just going to jump right to my main one: what he’s talking about is the difference between this:

and this

in a very similar way to how Katsuki himself proved there was such a big difference between this

and this

“the difference between those who are aiming for the top, and everyone else.” so yeah. and if this applies to the “winning” part of the hero equation, then it also stands to reason it should apply to the “rescue” part as well, right?

so what would that mean? basically, as far as I can tell, it’s the difference between your everyday rescuing, and between Deku’s style of rescuing. no, I’m not talking about the bone-breaking. I’m talking about, “my legs just started moving. why? I dunno!” or, as All Might puts it, “their bodies simply moved before they could think.”

what Deku has is not just the will to rescue. it’s the instinct to rescue. in the same way that Kacchan uses his quirk intuitively to reach ever greater heights, what Deku does intuitively is to save and protect others. he is unrivaled in this. his instinct to rescue surpasses even All Might’s. and this is what makes him great.

what Katsuki is doing right now is rescuing on the balanced, sensible, government-approved level of things. which is fine! admirable, even. but compared to what Deku has, it’s the same as Monoma’s will to win pitted against Katsuki’s own utterly indomitable will, which is completely illogical and excessive in exactly the right type of way, and is what drives him to the levels of excellence that he’s achieved. Deku’s will to rescue is like that. it’s on a whole different level.

and I think one of the biggest things I can say in praise of Katsuki is that he is not yet satisfied with where he is in terms of his moral strength. he understands that there’s a level he has yet to unlock and achieve. something that he isn’t yet grasping. and I’m pretty sure this is what it is. and if that’s the case, then he’s in luck, because I think it’s safe to say there will be plenty of opportunities in the near future to hone his own rescue instincts. Deku didn’t really start to approach Kacchan’s own levels of WIN NO MATTER WHAT until his battle with Muscular, and the key thing that made the difference there was the stakes. needless to say, in this latest arc, we have stakes aplenty. 

and all it takes is one moment. for there to be something to be on the line which Kacchan realizes in a moment of clarity that he can’t lose. something to trigger his own instant of my body just moved on its own. and then from there? who even knows. but it’ll be a sight to see.

so that is my [checks notes] 2600-word essay about Kacchan’s 75-word speech in chapter 247. to sum up, what I want for my son in this arc is for things to finally click for him to get that moment of Hero Autopilot, and also for other people to get with the program and acknowledge what a good kid he is, goddammit. even if he gets embarrassed. or embarrasses them immediately afterward by demonstrating exactly how good of a kid he is by blowing up the nearest inanimate object and launching into colorful tirades about someone’s mother. Bakugou is basically like a poorly wrapped Christmas gift. ugly on the outside, doesn’t quite look right when stacked next to the other gifts, but once you rip that sucker open TAH DAH, IT’S THAT BRAND NEW THING YOU WANTED! and it kicks all the other gifts’ asses. what more could you want in a character lol.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 247 #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #bakugou meta

[dawnwave16]

Project Widow Soldier

When Marinette first joined her classmates at the age of 11 it was clear that she wasn't what they considered normal. Sure her clothes were fashionable, but there was just something about her that made them second guess themselves. As the days passed they put that unease out of their minds, after all, why should they be scared of someone who was so clumsy?

What they didn't know was they should have listened to those instincts. Marinette was not normal, not in the slightest. She had been genetically engineered by Hydra. Half her DNA came from the Winter Soldier, the other half came from the Black Widow. How they had access to Widow's DNA, Marinette didn't know. She had his colouring but her build was similar to that of the widow's. Not that she knew that. She had been 8 when she had first heard whispers of what Hydra wanted to do with her, the perfect weapon, they called her. One born in a lab from an unknown surrogate and taken straight to their version of the red room. She had been trained and had her skills honed since before she could walk. Languages were drilled into her skull until it became a reflex to speak in whatever language was spoken around her.

That was something they should have remembered when they spoke of the next step of her training, whipping out her class. Well trained she may be but she had her father's true nature. The nature the Winter Soldier possessed when he was still James Buchanan Barnes aka 'Bucky' of the Howling Commando's and Captain America's best friend. Her true nature was kind, caring and bubbly when she was allowed to be, and the mile-wide stubborn streak in her refused to let her trainers take that away from her. When she heard what they had planned for her, she made her own plans. Instead of just taking out her class, she took out the whole base, hacking their computers to delete any and all references of herself, then ran.

She hitched her way to an orphanage in France where she was soon adopted and finally given a name of her own. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It sounded so much better than Experiment Widow Soldier 1623. Despite having run away she kept up most of her training, firearms were done at night by breaking into gun shops and dismantling then reassembling them against a timer. Other weapons were done by training in a dojo every second night. Hand to hand was done the same way except that was practised by a man who would alternate between watching her and sparing with her. She was always extra careful when they sparred as she didn't want anyone to know her true strength. It was why she always acted so clumsy too, no-one ever thought that the clumsiest person in the room could kill you with their bare hands.

Whenever they had a gym class at school she would pretend to injure herself so that she wouldn't have to participate in them. The teachers and other students simply thought it was bad luck so they ignored it rather than make a fuss of it. She found the classes very easy but after getting herself put up a grade she hid her boredom and simply put in the minimum effort she needed to still get her stellar grades. That's not to say her new life was perfect. There were still those that tried to bully her, but she generally only acted upset to help Chloe feel like she was copying her mother properly. She also discovered that she didn't feel comfortable not having at least one weapon on her, yet normal clothes didn't sit properly when she had a weapon. So she started designing and, making her own clothes and to her surprise, she discovered that not only did she enjoy doing so but she was good at it! Soon she was making all her clothes, up to and including bra's when she started needing them.

Two years after she was adopted and started her normal school career, she met Ayla. Although she got along well with Ayla, she decided to wait a while before deciding if they would be true friends or not. When one of her classmates was turned to stone she thought about intervening but knew that if she did, she stood the chance of being recognised, so she went home only to find a box on her desk. After checking it for traps she opened it, met Tikki and found she could help without exposing her secret to the world. It was in Tikki she found, what she felt, her first true friend. She then met Chat Noir and had to admit, while he needed to work on his comedic timing, he was a decent partner, especially for someone who clearly had no prior training. It was only due to her upbringing that she remembered that she had to catch the butterfly before they started celebrating their win.

When she arrived at school the next day she saw a boy leaning over her seat, at first she thought he had put it there but upon hearing Chloe giggling she realised that it was Chloe that had put it there. Despite this, she knew she had to make a scene about the gum so she pretended to be angry and pretended not to know who he was when Ayla showed her his picture on her phone. It was then that the downside of her training kicked in, this boy, Adrian, was her partner! She groaned and mentally hit her head against a brick wall in frustration.

School continued in pretty much the same way as previous years until yet another new girl joined their class. As far as Marinette was concerned the new girl was lacking in every way. Her lies were easy to disprove, her fashion sense was abysmal and don't even get her started on the girl's hair! When Lila first started to spread her lies, Marinette didn't care. When she stole Adrian's book though Marinette got angry. Didn't she know what Adrian's father would do to him if Adrian lost it? So she followed them and took the book out of the trash, only for Tikki to identify it as a grimoire and insist it be taken to the guardian. Marinette knew Tikki was right but she also worried about what would happen to her Kitty if she didn't return it. So she scanned it into her tablet, made a copy for the guardian and returned the book to Mr Agreste herself, saying she had found it in the trash after seeing Lila throw it away. As she had filmed Lila when she followed them he simply thanked her and sent her away. He hadn't even asked why she followed them!

It made her very suspicious of Mr Agreste but she knew Adrian as Chat wasn't ready for that confrontation so she kept her silence. She took one of the copies to the guardian and started her training as the next guardian. School carried on and Lila came back with yet more stories, she even tried threatening Marinette but she just shrugged it off, she'd dealt with worse.

Three more years past in much the same way, Lila lied, Marinette got ignored and the class seemed to drop in intelligence every time Marinette checked. Tom and Sabine never fell for Lilas' lies no matter how much the girl tried so Marinette was content. Then came the day that Marinette finally slipped.

There had been a difficult Akuma in the early hours of the morning so Marinette was running late. In her haste, she forgot that that day was a “gym” day meaning she needed an injury lined up. It definitely didn't help that the news that the Avengers were in Paris and would be visiting her school had been circulating.

“They all love me and we all text each other regularly but when they here they will pretend they don't know me so that I'm not made a target.” Lila was saying as Marinette stumbled into the classroom, pretending to be out of breath. “I wish I could tell you when they'll be here but they want it to be a surprise.”

Marinette rolled her eyes then finally remembered that today was a gym day and groaned softly. She didn't even have a viable excuse to get out of it! 'Looks like I'll have to try fake not being good at whatever activity they come up with' she thought with a sigh.

As luck would have it the Avengers showed up just in time for her classes gym class. At first, she thought that this would be a good thing, the Avengers would talk to them about whatever and then they would go back to their normal classes. Except that's not what happened. Kim, being his typical self, made a bet with Alix that if anyone in their class would be able to pick up Thor's hammer it was him. This led to a lot of snickering at the innuendo but it also got the attention of Tony Stark aka Ironman so they all had to line up and try to lift it. None of them managed to and then it was her turn. She didn't think she'd be able to but knew she had to try anyway. To her surprise, she lifted it easily. She blanched then did the only thing she could think of, she dropped the hammer and bolted from the room. She didn't mean to run into Bucky but she did and when he caught her, he could feel the muscles she had kept hidden with slightly loose shirts. This wasn't good.

“Alright little lady, what has you in such a panic,” Bucky asked.

“I was able to lift that stupid hammer so I panicked. I catch enough flack from my class that I didn't want to see their reactions.” Her voice came out against her will. Even though his question had been friendly enough, his voice had the same commanding tone in it that some of her instructors had had. He seemed to recognise that her answer hadn't been willingly given and studied her, his eyes showing that he was drawing the right conclusions about her training.

“You were trained. I accidentally used 'That Voice' and you had no option but to reply. Am I right?” His voice was filled with dawning understanding, however, he still kept that commanding tone in it so she felt compelled to answer.

“I managed to get away 5 years ago. I didn't think it would still work on me.” She replied miserably.

“5 years ago? That's when the Hydra base in Belgium blew up if I remember the reports I've recently been able to read correctly. Shield had found it hidden in a mountain under a monastery and three days before they went to attack it, it went up in flames. Was that you? If so, why, that would have been against all your training.” Bucky was still holding her arm so she couldn't escape. In a way, it felt like she was being grounded against her maelstrom of emotions through that contact.

“Look, can we not talk about this here? The last thing we need is for someone to hear this and start rumours about me. More rumours anyway,” her voice was very quiet at this stage.

Bucky thought for a moment then he answered. “We're staying on the fourth floor, I trust you can get in unseen?” He cocked an eyebrow as he said this, so she just nodded.

“What time?”

“22H00”

“I'll be there, though I would recommend having something that can do an express DNA analysis or I doubt anyone will believe me. I'm guessing I'll be talking to everyone?” Her tone was resigned as she said this. Bucky just nodded. “Alright, I'll see everyone tonight then.”

It seemed her run of bad luck was still going strong when an Akuma attack happened just after she had finished her supper and fighting it lasted for so long she only had 5 minutes to get to the meeting. She had 3 minutes before her transformation timed out so she decided to throw caution into the wind.

“Chat, I have to be somewhere ASAP, can I leave the comforting to you?” Chat hadn't had to use his power so he nodded and she swung away quickly. Landing on the correct balcony with a minute to spare, she stepped through to the surprise of everyone in the room and dropped her transformation. Tikki had known she was going to tell them anyway so she just smiled at her as she accepted a macaroon.

The avengers, who had all tensed up ready to fight as she dropped in, relaxed slightly before Thor's laughter boomed around the room.

“So that's why you were able to lift Mjolnir earlier! Well met young wielder of creation!”

She blushed but nodded. “Mind if I sit down? I'm a little tired.”

“Pull up a chair,” Tony said. Then he continued “Why'd you tell metal arm here to have a DNA tester ready?”

In answer, she simply held out her arm and when nobody moved she sighed. “Look, it would make it a lot easier for everyone to understand if they could see that what I'm about to say if they could see I'm not lying and that I have nothing to hide, at least not from anyone in this room.”

That got a reaction out of them. Bruce got up and drew the blood sample needed and ran it, only to let a strangled sound out when the results came in. Marinette giggled.

“Are you serious?!? This can't be right!” he spluttered.

“They accurate. You can check me for any hidden vials etc that could have messed with the results if you want but I promise they are true.” Marinette couldn't help but be amused.

“What's wrong big man?” Tony asked.

“The DNA results say she's Bucky and Natasha's kid but that's not possible!” Bruce's voice was filled with denial.

“WHAT?” Everyone in the room except Bruce and Marinette shouted.

“Read them yourself!” Bruce thrust the result sheet toward them.

“It's true. Oh my god, how?”

Tony was about to make a joke about two people having sex when Natasha shook her head.

“Before you start, Tony, I've never had sex with Bucky let alone been pregnant so it won't be the way you thinking.” She turned to Marinette and simply said: “Explain, now!”

Marinette sighed then leaned back and started to explain about Hydra's project Widow Soldier and how she got away. Halfway through her explanation, Tony had Friday start pulling all the records that he could and shared them with the rest of the Avengers. Friday was a little more thorough then Marinette expected him to be and had pulled up files regarding what was going on at Marinette's school too. Most specifically about Lila Rossi. The team was not pleased when they saw the videos with Lila lying about them and quite a few others.

As the team started to discuss how they would deal with Lila's lies about them, Natasha and Bucky walked over to Marinette.

“So, you're our daughter huh?” Marinette nodded with her eyes lowered thinking that they must either be angry or disappointed.

“Did the serums in us affect you in any way?” Natasha asked.

“I'm stronger, faster and more flexible than most, which helps with being Ladybug but is a pain as a civilian as I always have to hide it, even from my adopted parents. I'm immune to poisons and need very little sleep. Oh, and my eyes are better and my hearing is a little more acute. If anyone found out I was going to blame it on having an active X-gene but I know I don't actually have one.”

“At least you had a backup plan for it kiddo,” Bucky said ruffling her hair. She swatted his hand away.

“Up for a sparing session so that we can see where you at in term of training?” Natasha asked.

“Sure, just know I don't want to go into the hero business full time. I was hoping to be like Edna Mode in the Incredibles, you know? Design super suits for everyone, yet still, be awesome in my own right.” Bucky and Natasha chuckled.

“If's that's what you want sure, but we still going to double-check your level of training,” Bucky replied.

“Fair enough.” She hopped up and stripped off her jacket as they started sparring.

What no-one knew was that a certain Salt-water Crocodile had smelt his favourite teen and had escaped from the room he was in. He had a bad habit of doing that, mainly so that he could destroy and crocodile skin items Chloe had, as well as her shoes. Marinette and Natasha had been sparing for 10 minutes when Fang managed to track Marinette's scent down and break into the Avengers' room, causing them all to freak and reach for their weapons. Marinette and Natasha stopped their spar and Marinette stood with her hands on her hips, looking uncannily like a blue-eyed version of her mother.

“Really Fang? Must you resort to scaring everyone whenever you even think I'm nearby?” She didn't get an answer except for a slight rumble from Fang's chest almost like a purr. She sighed then walked over to her jacket to get her phone and dialled a number.

“Hey Uncle J, you wouldn't happen to be missing something would you?” She asked into the phone when her call connected. When she got an answer all she replied was “Room 416,” before hanging up and sitting down. Fang was instantly half on her lap demanding cuddles.

The team was startled, to say the least, but even more so when Jagged Stone burst into the room. He ignored them his eyes locking onto Fang and Marinette. “Little M! No wonder he decided to go for a walk!” He looked around, “Oh, were you in the middle of a design meeting? I'll catch up later then! We still on for you coming on tour with me for a month when school finishes? Excellent! See you later then!” And with that, he was gone again.

“Don't ask,” was all she said with a shake of her head and a small laugh “You'll get used to it.”

Seeing how similar the man was to Tony the team accepted that easily enough. Marinette looked at the clock and saw it was 2 o'clock. She sighed then looked back at everyone.

“Look do what you want about Lila but I don't want to know the plan beforehand. If I look smug, or if I don't look surprised she'll twist your actions to be the result of me manipulating her. I've got to get home and get some sleep as I have school in the morning, while I don't need a lot of sleep I still need some.” Having said that she called for her transformation and left.

School was as boring as ever the next day when the door slammed open and Tony stood there.

“Sorry not sorry for barging in Ms Incompitence,” he said to Mlle Bustier, “But there is something I need to say to this class. After we left yesterday and saw that Akuma attack we tried to get more information on them. Imagine our surprise when we saw a video on a blog we'd never heard of, a video that contained an interview with a girl we had never met or even seen until we spoke to this class yesterday. We decided to do what little miss tabloid reporter here should have done and did some fact-checking. Yes, there are some facts in what she said but 95% of what she said was total BS. We even called some of the celebs that were spoken about to make sure!” With that, he slammed a wad of paper down on the desk in front of Lila. “These are copies of the lawsuits you will be facing Ms Liar, your mother has copies of them too.” He turned to Ayla and dumped another slightly smaller wad in front of her. “This is your set, same story.” Finally, he turned to Mlle Bustier, “You will be hearing from the education board shortly.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Marinette sat back in her seat watching as the class slowly processed what had just happened. When Adrian looked at her she shook her head showing she had nothing to do with it. Realising she probably wouldn't learn anything new until Ms Mendeleiev came to teach them, she closed her eyes and thought about her summer. A month travelling with Jagged, the rest spent with the Avengers, who knew what would happen? Either way, she looked forward to the future, knowing she had two sets of parents that supported her and a whole family to meet. Who knows maybe she could even find someone she would be willing to date?

by popular request part 2

#winter soldier #mlb #au bio dad for marinette #au bio mom for marinette #ayla salt #lila salt #ms bustier salt #avengers

[andmaybegayer]

Long Poetry Wallowposting

One of my favourite poems is William Carlos Williams’ “Red Wheelbarrow” (or “XXII” if you’re being dipshit about it), not because it’s an exceptional poem, but because of the circumstances surrounding the first time I read it.

In 2015 I convinced two of my friends to join me for a multidisciplinary academic competition thing. One of the rounds was the independent essay, which has an interesting twist: your team of three gets all three essay topics (critique a given essay, write an essay on a topic, and analyze a poem) and you have 30 minutes to discuss and split the topics before a 90 minute solo writing period.

(I could write another extended post about the bureaucratic shenanigans I went through surrounding that competition, someone remind me to tell that story sometime.)

I don’t remember what the other two topics were, but the poem was to analyze William Carlos Williams’ “Red Wheelbarrow”, a poem which looks like this:

so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens

Now, I got roped into this competition by a teacher who I did not know and who gave us no more detail other than “Get a team of 3 together and I’ll vouch for you to skip a day of school and attend this competition” so we did not know that there was actually a published list of poems, books and artpieces that you should have studied before coming to this competition, including John Campbell’s “Hero with a thousand faces” and Jeff Koons’ “Puppy”.

So we were in for this Sight Unseen, No Background. We didn’t even know who Williams was.

Fortunately for me, my friends are horrible nerds. We’re not the dead poets society but we were still the kind of people who, bored in the back of english class, would write short poems and read each other’s shitty writing and who had fun proving that the integral of e^x was e^x and we took part in OTHER competitions and would show off obscure academic skills to each other and we thought that was cool. We were not lost at sea here.

So we stare at this for a second. With zero context, what the hell does this mean. Chicken is an implicitly funny word, of course, but that’s the 2000′s talking and this must be the 1900′s sometime. The enjambment is interesting but nothing crazy here, this isn’t e.e. cummings (not a fan by the way) and so, there’s really not a lot to look at. We spent ten minutes throwing ideas back and forth before almost simultaneously coming to the conclusion. This is just a scene, being described in poetry.

We discuss this idea for a few more minutes, and we allocate the actual writing of the essay to a friend (I messaged him about this to make sure I had my story straight) and then time was up, and we turned to our individual essays.

Reader-response analysis is a school of literary theory that is, some would say, kinda garbage. It asks the reader “what did that work make you think of, what did that work make you feel” and treats that as ground truth. The reader is an active element in this, and the way the reader feels is of course very flexible, leading many people to conclude that it is useless, since the reader is an unknown quantity here. Well, reader-response analysis is not actually garbage and can be a very useful tool in your literary toolkit if used appropriately. We all found we had the same reader’s response: a clear mental image of a scene. Maybe the floor is gravel, maybe it’s grass. There is a wheelbarrow leaned up against a shed, gleaming with the last drops of rain. A chicken pecks around nearby, with more close at hand. The smell of a heavy night of rain persists, the light is the bright cold glow of a wet morning that can shine without burning off the dew just yet.

So, that’s what we found. There’s no deeper meaning here. This poem is simply conveying to you the idea. We, of course, being dweebs, took it further. Attempting to find deeper meaning in this poem demonstrates an inability to take information at face value. Sometimes the pipe is just a pipe. Sometimes the red wheelbarrow is just a red wheelbarrow.

Turns out, that analysis is correct. At the time this was written, Williams was busy doing Imagism, which means he was being economical with words and precise with meaning. The poem is short because it needn’t be long. There’s some chickens and a wheelbarrow. The Wikipedia article for this poem is hilarious, there’s a section of quotes from people who believed there was a deep hidden meaning about a dying child Williams had cared for (he was a doctor) who had a red wheelbarrow as a toy. This explanation is nonsense, and I have rarely enjoyed reading someone being wrong as much as I have enjoyed reading phrases like:

At the time, I remember being mystified by the poem. However, being properly trained in literary criticism, I wondered what the real meaning of the poem was, what it was really about. ... What is left out of Williams' poem is the fact that when he conceived that image he was sitting at the bedside of a very sick child (Williams was a medical doctor). The story goes that as he sat there, deeply concerned about the child, he looked out the window, saw that image, and penned those words.

Of course you can't figure it out by studying the text. The clues aren't there. This poem was meant to be appreciated only by a chosen literary elite, only by those who were educated, those who had learned the back story (Williams was a doctor, and he wrote the poem one morning after having treated a child who was near death. The red wheelbarrow was her toy.)

and knowing that, you’re all wrong, get fucked. It’s just a wheelbarrow. According to Williams himself, he just saw this scene in a fisherman’s backyard and wrote a poem about the scene. I looked all this up the day after the competition, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as good about a literary analysis.

Now don’t get me wrong, the curtains are sometimes blue for a reason. But in this case, absent any information indicating otherwise, the wheelbarrow really is just red because that’s what the author saw. In some cases you can draw additional meaning out of a work but it requires just as much discipline to read deeply as to prevent yourself reading too deep. We avoided the trap.

I think about this poem infrequently, maybe once every couple months. I can still recall it from memory. It is still an influential point of reference whenever I try to write something. I tried writing some Imagist works in high school, and I had those same friends read them. They thought I might prefer realism instead. Unfortunately it turns out that most of the time, I don’t find realism to be the best fit.

XXII by William Carlos Williams is a good poem, but maybe, not for you.

#poetry #literature #the red wheelbarrow #kali's life #william carlos williams

[another-snape-story]

Morning Post

Chapter XIII

“Pity you didn’t partake in carving pumpkins last night, it was fun,” you complained meeting Snape at your door awaiting to accompany you to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“I’m not excited about these childish entertainments,” he stated blankly.

“So, Professor McGonagall is a child, in your opinion?”

Snape rolled his eyes, defeated.

“Ha! Got you!” you cheered.

“It’s just not my cup of tea.”

Actually, the point was not in ‘childish entertainments’ in general, but in enormous amount of people involved in this activity, whose presence Snape had no desire to tolerate longer than necessary. Moreover, he found it unacceptable risking his reputation by being caught at such a shameful piece of work.

In fact, Snape had one tiny pumpkin in his private chambers, carved carefully all by himself. When was the last time he did it, he’d hardly remember, but this year he discovered he was in sort of a festive mood. Where did it come from? He supposed, he knew it. If you’d offered him to do it together, he would’ve probably agreed – not without showing reluctance and discontent, of course. Snape heartily regretted losing the whole evening of enjoyable pastime in your company. Maybe he should’ve sacrificed his grim image? Anyway, it was way too late for remorse.

Once you climbed the narrow spiral staircase to find yourselves in the Entrance Hall, someone ran into you, knocking you off your feet right in Professor Snape’s arms.

“Damn you, Quirrell!” he growled. “Watch your step!”

“I’m s-s-sorry,” he adjusted his turban and disappeared behind the corner.

“He’s been frantic lately,” you rubbed your shoulder, throwing scornful look in his direction.

“Idiot,” Snape hissed.

Meanwhile a crowd of Gryffindors rushed by, Harry Potter among them. The boy greeted you with a cheerful smile which vanished once he noticed your gloomy companion. Snape, annoyed by recent unpleasant encounter with his stuttering colleague, seemed now even more intimidating.

“Nice boy – Harry,” you smiled, as you leisurely continued your way along the corridor. “So diligent. He’s having a hard time. So many things other children find common are new to him.”

“He’s not the only one in this boat,” Snape snapped disdainfully. He didn’t like children, you knew it. Neither did you, actually – at least not that loud mass.

A Hufflepuff girl brusquely slipped between the two of you – just in time to confirm your conviction.

“Ugh, how you’ve been surviving here for so many years?” you grunted.

“Self-control and tones of sedatives,” he answered plainly as you entered the Great Hall, which buzzed and hummed in usual mealtime routine. His wit never failed to make you laugh, this time was no exception.

Eyes rounded in amazement, a few heads turned in your direction, watching you as you made your way to the teachers table. Beaming with joy, you created a huge contrast with the man black as thundercloud.

“Severus! You should’ve joined us last night!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed with a mixture of reproach and disappointment on her face.

“I’ve been told off already, thank you very much,” he pulled the chair for you to help you sit and took his place beside.

“He’ll assist us next year,” you whispered, so that Snape wouldn’t hear.

“Oh? How did you manage to persuade him?” McGonagall leaned closer, curious and excited.

“I haven’t yet,” you replied furtively for the sake of privacy, “but I think it’s quite possible.”

Satisfied, the old lady straightened on her chair. After making some hard thinking, she gave Snape a meticulous look, drawing it on you and then back on Snape. As if coming to a conclusion, she smiled slyly.

You didn’t pay attention when owls delivering post flooded the room – you rarely received letters – not once during your staying at Hogwarts. But dozens of surprised gasps made you raise your head from your plate. Everyone’s attention was caught by a long, thin package carried by six large owls. Even the small envelope landed on the table escaped your notice. But not Snape’s – with the tail of an eye he studied the inscription.

“Broomstick?” you instinctively looked up at Snape, searching for an answer. “Is it a broomstick?”

“It is,” Professor McGonagall affirmed without hesitation.

This very moment the birds dropped it right in front of Harry Potter.

Snape squinted in disgust, his spirits reaching the lowest. “Potter again. Always Potter in the spotlight.”

“Come on, why does he annoy you so much?” you grudged. “The boy changed in the face, when he saw you today!”

“They all annoy me, these dunderheads,” he spat.

“He’ll replace Charlie Weasley in Gryffindor Quidditch team,” McGonagall announced proudly.

“What?” Snape outraged. “But first-years are not allowed…”

“I’ve settled this matter with Albus, Severus. He agreed it was a good idea,” she cut him short crisply.

“The boy barely mounted the broom! You can’t…”

“He’s showing better skill in flying than Terence Higgs so far!”

“Let us not become personal!” Snape barked, his nostrils fluttered in resentment.

Sitting in a crossfire, you had no other option but to follow the argument. You found it curious that Snape cared about Harry’s safety. Strangely, it didn’t come along with his attitude towards the boy. Nevertheless, you tended to take his side rather than McGonagall’s – you also found it insane throwing a child into this chaotic whirlpool of players, Bludgers, Quaffles, Snitches, and Merlin knows what else.

“Remember you promised to give me xylem sap?” you addressed him quietly, carefully putting your hand on the man’s wrist.

Once he faced you, for a brief moment you sensed all his anger directed on you.

“I need it in my class. Shall we go fetch it now?” eyes locked on his, you tightened your grip.

“Yes…” he let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose…”

With a gesture concealed from Snape’s view, you apologized before Professor McGonagall and were about to leave, as Snape stopped you.

“Won’t you take it?” he handed you the envelope. “As far as I can tell, it is for you.”

Indeed, there was your name on it. And the other name, which promised no good. Without reading, you shoved the letter in your pocket.

“Is everything fine?” seeing how upset this small piece of paper made you, Snape asked worriedly.

“Yes,” you squeezed a smile and headed for the exit, a tall man in black following you. He was still annoyed with the news about Potter being taken into the Quidditch team, but his wrath subsided a little – not without your involvement. He was thankful you saved him from burning bridges with Minerva, but what he appreciated most was your sympathy, which he – in his opinion – didn’t deserve.

“It is not right!” he complained. “They can’t just rewrite the rules for no reason!”

“A legend in a Quidditch team, isn’t it a good reason?” you noted sarcastically. “You have no power against two ganged up Gryffindors who happened to be the school’s main authorities.”

Snape sniggered at your remark. You’ve always managed to push his thoughts off distressing rails.

“We’ll be cheering on Slytherin harder then,” you stated. “Won’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Snape agreed. He felt much better now.

“See you at the feast?” it was no longer possible to delay the moment of parting – classes were about to start in a few minutes.

Snape smiled mildly and gave you an affirmative nod.

“Thank you for xylem sap, by the way,” you smirked playfully.

“I have some, if you ever really need it,” his brow sprang cunningly.

“Is there something you don’t have, Snape?” you laughed and hurried off.

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Tag: @diaryofafan17 @yul-is-sparkling @fullmoonshadowwrites @forthehonourof @mayumikurosake @redrehab @space-helen @fluffymadamina nadiigh @theworldisugly-22 ​ @lukaerith-morningstar ​ @sighsinkhuzdul ​ @67-chevy-baby @rustypotatospork @aquila-leo ​ @dandyrua @majusketch @fancygirl61 @writingmi @s00nhi @pinkininja @shizuethedragon @chocolattefrog @awkwardaxelotl​ @bionic-otp​

#snape #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction

[devourer--of--books]

I’m mad about Hunter being written off and here’s why you should be too

You: wasted potential.

Me, an intellectual: ah, Hunter and Nicola’s friendship

I have strong opinions about Hunter.

Yeah, you heard me right.

Look, I have strong opinions about many, many, things. Today, we are taking a dive on Hunter and Nicola. First I’d like to blame this post on Kate, as I decided to make it after I tried to articulate why Hunter being written off TCY makes me so angry in a huge comment under her latest OTK post but it ended up being too big and messy so I deleted it. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone elaborate on it, so if you were also mad about this, bro, not to be intense, but like, are we soulmates or...??

Before anything else, as I usually do with my text posts (which I haven’t done in a while, opsies), I shall provide you with arguably unnecessary context. Sit down, grab yourself some snacks, make yourself at home, I’m about to rant you into oblivion.

Since I know many accounts weren’t around back then, I’ll also give you the socio-political vibes of the time period, as any self-respecting half-baked essay written last minute should.

POV, you’re 14/15 year-old me. You flat iron your hair, you don’t use sunscreen, you think you’re straight and your school makes you wear those horrid low rise uniform pants, but at least you can somewhat do your make-up decently now that you grew out of your emo phase.

The year was 2016. The Ever Never Handbook has just come out. You re-watch the handbook trailer on youtube for the fifteenth time. Everyone is losing their minds over OcTObeR 14tH and “a student named Agatha ~ now Agatha of Camelot~”, as well as the portraits and the teasing for a new SGE book. Quests For Glory is announced just a few days later. 2016 tagatha ship week happens a few months down the line. 

This is the SGE Tumblr Fandom Peak.

Now, let’s start right there, two-ish weeks after the release of the Handbook, right as the QFG announcement comes out.

We all knew Soman wasn’t done with SGE after TLEA. He definitely had been teasing something in his weekly blogs (lol, remember when I used to check the blog, what a time to be alive) and once we got the ENH, we got quite lot of info to theorize. Here’s some that I can think off the top of my head: 

- The coven was going on a mission to find a new School Master.

- Tedros and Agatha were struggling financially in Camelot but were going to get married soon (even if Sophie doubted Tedros would have asked Agatha yet, as of the time of the Ever Never RoundTable, but we’re taking that with a grain of salt, because she was written to sound jealous here, and I won’t acknowledge that kinda of bs, she is happy for her friends okay, we’ve been though this-)

- Sophie had completely remodeled the School For Evil and was getting on Dovey and the rest of the faculty’s nerves (except for newly hired history teacher, Hort).

- The rest of the supporting cast had just graduated third year and was to be off in quests soon.

- The School was now accepting applications, and two of those applicants are Nicola and Bogden.

Now, I’m not even gonna bring up how it was mentioned in a video in EverNeverTv that Bogden would be an important character in TCY, and yet, I can’t think of anything relevant about him other than the fact that he knew tarot apparently, or how his application had more personality than him in the entire series, or how he was basically there so we could look at him and Willam and be like “oh, representation”, or how he’d be a good insight on how Galvadon perceives Sophie and Agatha post-TLEA, or- I’m just not gonna.

Oh, no. Instead, we are here to discuss Nicola’s application.

If your memory is foggy, let me remind you:

Nicola’s application is submitted, according to the Handbook, by her friend, Hunter. For convenience sake, we’ll assume Hunter is a guy (I’ll tell you why Hunter being a guy works better for me in a bit), but his gender is not mentioned anywhere in the ENH. I don’t think he has been gendered in any version (correct me if I’m wrong) or if there are any pronouns for him during TCY, but I’m fairly confident he isn’t mentioned at all.

Hunter tells us he is applying on Nic’s behalf, as she’d never apply for herself. He mentions that she is more or less the Galvadon equivalent of an activist for women’s rights, founding a rugby unisex team and campaigning for pants instead of skirts for the local school uniform, as well as having a feminist sounding book as her favorite book. It’s heavily implied that she is a jock, as he lists that, if marooned on a desert island, Nicola would want to have a soccer ball, a hockey stick and a set of dumbbells (“and none of this 5-lb nonsense”) with her.

Upon asked why Nicola should go to the school, his answer is: “because there’s a greater place for her in the world, where she can learn a girl’s true worth, and I don’t think it’s here.”

Then you have a note from (*rolls eyes* *suppresses a gag* *tears hair out*) the very late, long, long gone, absolutely dead, August Sader, telling the Deans to accept her application, despite having no reason to do so, as Nicola was to “play a crucial role in it’s [the school’s] survival.” Dovey and Sophie agree to flip a coin to decide which school will take her, which Sophie must have lost, as Nicola is accepted into the School For Evil.

By now, I think we all agree that Nicola was done dirty. If you check my QFG re-read you’ll notice that I complained about her there. As I had to go though her introduction chapter again to make this post, let me tell you why: Nicola wasn’t written to be likeable.

She simply wasn’t. That’s the one conclusion I can draw. Whether that’s intentional or not, I can’t tell, but the backlash she received was fairly useful, as it meant Soman could write her off the main story without much backlash from his target audience (aka, not us, pesky pretentious older readers).

The Nicola I was introduced to, not only in the Handbook but on her trailer for QFG was not the girl on QFG. 

Nic is there to be the smart  girl™, and while I do appreciate having a character who is a bit cocky about their brains, it just doesn’t work well there. Because her bond to other characters and the way she earns their respect feels so weak, she just comes across as pretentious. Characters like Hester and Agatha, who are supposed to be smart, feel dumbed down to show us how clever Nicola is. Agatha is supposed to be the resourceful thinker and Hester wanted to be class captain, you bet she studied like crazy, she probs knows every fairytale in existence. 

Then you add that to the (*rolls eyes* *suppresses a gag* *tears hair out*) Nicola and Hort fiasco and Nic feels like a weirdly written OC insert.

Handbook!Nicola sounded like a smart jock kind of character (read, more Gryffindor than Ravenclaw). Handbook!Nic was a Reader who read the tales as a hobby, but her favorite book is not a tale, it’s a non-fiction book (as far as I can tell). She might not be the fairytale expert, but she sounds like a practical thinker, as sport requires strategy, which is not Hester’s strong suit, given she is rather impulsive, or Agatha’s, given she is often unwilling to make hard decisions due to her Good nature and her own insecurities. C’mon, Handbook!Nic would have taken one look at Hort and sent him running to hills, because she would be able to smell his bs three miles away. She’s no one’s replacement, least of all Sophie’s (whom she probably would not have gotten along with (at least they got this part right) given Sophie’s “my prince will sweep me away from an ordinary life” phylosophy). To be honest she doesn’t sound like she’d be interested in dating at all.

But this post is about Hunter right? Let me remind you, Hunter is not mentioned in Nicola’s introduction, when she talks about her life in Galvadon. Canon!Nicola tells us that she has two brothers who want to inherit her father’s pub in order to sell the place, but Nicola is close with her father and likes working there to some extent, even if she has bigger ambitions. She believes her brothers sent her application as a way to get rid of her.

Back when I still had some faith that Soman had an arc for Nicola that included resolution, I had my theories as to why she wouldn’t mention Hunter: maybe he was to appear in later books and they’d have a huge backstory explaining their friendship, as well as a dramatic confession that Hunter sent her application because he felt Nicola deserved to live an adventure, and Nicola would either realize that she was meant for something more or that she wanted to live a quiet life, honestly either would be nice. I would have taken anything. Truly, if Nicola’s k-pop boyfriend in the OTK epilogue had been replaced with Hunter, I might be able to hate it less.

Especially if they came to the (*rolls eyes* *suppresses a gag* *tears hair out*) school wedding as friends. Because you know what?

We are starved for male-female friendships in the SGE universe.

Tedros’s only female friends (all his friends in general) are Agatha’s friends (who all tried to get rid of him at some point, save for maybe Dot) and his actual friends are all dead (Bettina/Chaddick). Hort could be counted as Agatha’s friend, if only he didn’t bash her every five seconds like a moron (he literally pitched the idea that Agatha should be executed by Tedros in OTK, just because he was envious or her relationship with Sophie (not jealous, envious, because Sophie wasn’t his to begin with)) over his delusional sense entitlement of Sophie’s affections (which I hate, but as this is not a Hort-bashing post, I won’t get too much into), but the coven, Beatrix, Renna and co. would not touch him with a stick. Merlin’s friendship with Lady Of The Lake is gone, and Dovey is dead. Rhian and Kei both had that frenemies thing with Sophie in ACOT/beggining of OTK, but I think it was supposed to be romantic? It wasn’t ew (I hate Rhian but he’s also wasted potential, and so was Kei, whom I liked, rest in peace). Japeth hates women for??? Whatever. Willam and Bodgen are such background characters I could not care less about them. The new students weren’t memorable enough for me to remember their names. I think this about covers the main male cast.

There’s a lack of male friendships too, but we kinda have (*rolls eyes* *suppresses a gag* *tears hair out*) Tort and whatever was that rushed Tedros/Chaddick friendship.  Rhian and Kei were gay friends (yeah, right, sure, very platonic). Tedros and Rhian could have been friends if Rhian redeemed himself, but otherwise no. Tedros and Filip… gay. Japeth literally killed Rhian, so also not very good friendship between brothers. Hort has no friends, because Ravan would so not be here for his bs. Willam and Bogden are a couple and (*rolls eyes* *suppresses a gag* *tears hair out*) so were Aric and Japeth, I guess.

Still don’t believe Hunter was wasted potential? Okay, let me tell you what my ideal Nicola arc would be, mixing Handbook!Nicola with some canon!Nicola and including Hunter.

- Nicola is the one inheriting the pub (once she gets married), despite Galvadon’s pre-TLEA sexism and conservative views, because she is her father’s only child and her brothers are actually her older half-siblings from her mother’s previous marriage.

- Her mom died at some point early in her childhood. Not a childbirth tho, because Callis, local witch gynecologist (have you checked my post on this yet? no? you should) was there for her, even if it was a high risk pregnancy because the mom was already older.

- Because of that, Nicola’s father actually sells bread to Callis for cheaper prizes, but don’t tell the elders, shhh

- Anyway, because her mom was gone so early, Nicola was raised by her dad, brothers and by the employees (mostly men, as I don’t think it was all that common for women to work jobs in Galvadon) of her father’s pub. Due to being a girl, most guys weren’t willing to befriend her (sexism, am I right), but because she was a tomboy she had difficulty bonding with the other girls at school, even when they weren’t outright hostile (cof cof Sophie). 

- Example: she and Belle had a tentative bond over their love of cooking, but often ran out of things to talk about and the conversation fell flat.

- Which is how she ends up befriending Hunter. 

- Hunter is the only boy in a family of many girls and his father works all day. He has a good heart and is rather emotional, but he always feels like he has something to prove, which leads him to being rather impulsive. Both Nicola and Hunter love sports and are very competitive people. Once Nicola gains his respect, he feels very protective of her and often feels the need to stand up for her, even if she doesn’t need it.

- Nicola knows Hunter feels overlooked in his family, so she is always inviting him over and taking care of him, keeping him out of trouble. Her father begins to see him as his own son, and soon he spends more time at Nicola’s house than at his own.

- Everyone thinks they’ll get married some day. His sisters tease him mercilessly about it, and so does Nic’s father, but frankly, Nic and Hunter see each other as family.

- You can bet Hunter is the one teaching Nic about periods after asking his sisters, so she wouldn’t have to suffer with Galvadon’s horrid Sex Ed. (go check the Callis headcanon’s okay, give me clout, that it my favorite post I’ve ever made)

- They tried to kiss once. Nicola vomited and Hunter gaged.

- Hunter is Nicola’s number one supporter and fan, 100% had those gender-equality pins she made for her campaigns all over his bags and jackets.

- Since most wedding matches are arranged by the elders before girls even graduate, it was settled that Nic and Hunter would get married to each other and then inherit the pub. It would of course, be a secretly platonic match and they would suspiciously have no children (Nicola even had a plan to visit Callis to get a potion for infertility, just in case the elders wanted to check on her... okay, I’ll stop).

- Hunter doesn’t tell her, but Nicola knows he wants to marry for love and have a family of his own. She tries to talk him out of marrying her, but he insists that he would be doing it out of love for her, even if not romantic, because Nic didn’t deserve to be matched up with some stranger she barely knows who would no doubt be less tolerant of her more radical views.

- She tells him it’d be fine for him to have a affairs then, but he insists he would never do that to her, because people would talk about Nic if that was the case and her reputation would be ruined.

- The night of Sophie and Agatha kidnapping Nicola tells him she would rather be taken to the School than to stay there and make him live an unhappy life.

- Hunter is horrified (remember, everyone thought going to the school was a fate worse than death) and makes her promise to never treat her life so fickly.

- Sophie and Agatha get taken, come back, but during Tedros’ reign of terror in Galvadon, right before they return to the Woods, Nicola’s father grows very very sick.

- Nic thinks he’s going to die, and she frets, not only because they’re close but also because she can’t inherit the place if she doesn’t marry Hunter. But, well, she sort of always knew, but now that feels very real, she thought she had some more time before that.

- They set a date for the wedding, but thankfully, Tedros and Agatha’s escape ends up causing the ceremony to be delayed.

- By the time the new date is set, there’s no more elders and Stefan is now mayor.

- But just because he is the mayor doesn’t mean the law and the sexism is gone overnight.

- Nic’s father is getting somewhat better, but she is still very worried about him, because of his old age.

- Once SGE starts having applications and has been proved to be, well, somewhat safe, Hunter suggests that Nicola applies, but after the scare that she might lose her father sooner rather than later, she tells him she can’t bring herself to leave him.

- Hunter doesn’t want her to throw her life away, specially now knowing that in the Endless Woods there were people like her and that progress would get there before it ever got to Galvadon 

- (He also wants to not marry someone he views as a sister, pls).

- So he files her application in secret.

- Nicola gets accepted, upon Sader’s request and Sophie’s bad luck, into the School For Evil. She and Sophie still don’t get along, the Evil castle rejects her and she gets pushed to Good, becoming an Ever, but she’s only staying until Christmas, because she is worried sick about her father.

- She thinks the application was a plot from her brothers because she doesnt think Hunter would ever betray her trust like that, after she specifically told him she wouldn't go.

- There’s no Hicola, instead, she and Hort become friends and she talks him out of his delusions with Sophie, because as much as Nicola dislikes her, Sophie was a girl too, and deserved to have her feelings respected. 

- She also punches Hort into giving up his envy of Tedros and Agatha while at it, because she is just that efficient.

- Everything else up to OTK can be pretty much the same because I can’t remember what happens, other than everytime Nicola is smart girl™, it’s not “because she reads”, but because she is practical. 

- Example: on the boat scene where she very pretentiously sasses Agatha for not saying hello to her (canon!Nicola, girl, she just suffered six months of loneliness at Camelot because Tedros shut her out and is now on a quest to save her happy ending, probs didn’t get much sleep, maybe cut her some slack) and then tells her how to sail a boat (despite the fact that there are no boats in Galvadon and I’m sure you can’t just read Peter Pan and learn to sail a boat, unless I did it wrong or something, maybe the storian version comes with a crash course). Here, instead, Nicola presses Hort (who is a pirate’s son) to remember literally anything to help them (therefore making him not completely useless on this quest), and he does and they tell Agatha and she’s like sure and does it.

- Now, in OTK, I literally can’t remember where Nicola was for most of it and I read that book not too long ago, so I’m worried. 

- Okay, so, have the Knights Of Eleven actually serve some purpose, include a scene where Tedros and Nicola stress-play rugby and get her some internal conflict.

- Nic now loves this world. She just spent the last few weeks fighting to protect it. She is now a Knight, and she loves the adventures and the new friends she made. Can she really go back to Gavaldon to take care of a pub? Well, she needs to, doesn’t she? That’s what a good daughter would do.

- After Japeth’s execution, Nic goes straight home.

- Her father’s condition is stable, as he is being treated by Hunter and his new wife.

- Oh boy, Hunter has some explaining to do.

- Nicola is furious that he broke her trust, but at the same time, she’s happy he’s happy and well, Hunter what do you have to say for yourself?

- “Damn, Nic, nice armour- ouch, my arm!”

- Apparently, since Nicola was taken, Stefan approved a law for people to be able to leave their inheritance to whomever they wanted. And since Nic was gonna be at the Woods, her father was more than happy to leave it to Hunter. Of course, unless Nicola wanted to stay at Gavaldon. 

- Does she? She’s not sure.

- Hunter and Nicola attend the tagatha wedding at Camelot (what, like I wasn’t gonna fix this part?), Hunter is Nic’s plus one.

- There, Hester, Anadil and Dot show her Sader’s note, and ask her, not to become School Master, but to become Dean Of Good, because she would be perfect for the new brand of Good to match Sophie’s Evil. You know, since she is all for gender-equality, good manners, practicality and was particularly good at dealing with Sophie’s bs.

- Since Tedros has the Storian Ring, the pen doesn’t need actual protection, well, not more than it can get from Nic and Sophie.

- Sophie herself insists that Nicola accept the position, not because she doesn’t want to be alone at the school now that Hort and Dovey are dead, no, of course not, since when did Sophie ever need anyone, she was just asking cause… cause Nicola looked lonely. The pretty boy who came with her was not her boyfriend, was he? Sophie was prettier than him anyway. Who needs a boy when they can have her?

- Whether they become a couple or not, I’ll let you decide.

- Bonus: years later, Hunter’s eldest daughter is accepted at the School for Good. Nicola is her godmother, and her favoritism shows.

There, if nothing else, the reason you should be mad about Hunter and the Handbook in general is because this didn’t happen.

#school for good and evil #The School for Good and Evil #nicola of woods beyond #Sophie of Woods Beyond #Hunter of Woods Beyond

[scripttorture]

I'm curious about the the mental processes that makes torturers do their work. Is that akin to the process that allowed the "Teacher" to press the supposedly shock-inducing button in the Milgram Experiment? Do they blame their victims for "making them torture them"? Does dehumanisation play a role? What do symptoms look like on a torturer? Thank you in advance.

These are all good questions but a lack of research means it’s difficult to answer them definitely.

 I’ll start by saying that the Milgram experiments are a steaming pile of… insults to the scientific community shall we say. Honestly as a scientist the Milgram experiments make me angry because they are just so darned sloppy. They are terrible. They cherry picked data. They applied significant coercion to the ‘teachers’ while claiming they didn’t. They failed to record the ways ‘teachers’ tried to trick the system (especially those who pretended to press the button but did not actually do so).

 And they also didn’t bother to check whether the ‘teachers’ believed they were actually administering electric shocks. When a follow up study asked these people about it later they found that the majority of people who pressed the button didn’t believe the button caused electric shocks.

 Essentially- Milgram can’t tell us shit about why this happens. Those experiments were too sloppy and poorly conducted for us to draw any conclusions.

 So what do we actually have that can tell us about torturers?

 There are a lot of interviews conducted by non-specialists; mostly journalists. There are works torturers published. I consider both of these sources useful but biased. Torturers have repeatedly shown that they don’t provide accurate accounts of events or their own actions. So – I take these accounts with a pinch of salt and try to be critical.

 When it comes to actual specialists providing notes on torturers- I’ve only really found two sources: Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth contains notes on torturers he treated after the Franco-Algerian war, and Sironi’s body of work studying torturers. Which is only available in French and is print on demand.

 Yes I am still bitter, moving on!

 Where does all this leave us?

 Well it means that we don’t have enough good quality studies to be absolutely sure. It means most of what we ‘know’ is educated guess work, based on the little bit of research and anecdotal accounts.

 It’s frustrating. We need more data. And the result is that most of what I can say here is ‘may bes’.

 Dehumanisation probably does play a role, but it may not be as great a role as we tend to assume. Studies of the effects of hate speech in Rwanda in the lead-up to the genocide (along with what we know about ICURE techniques) do suggest that dehumanisation makes atrocities more likely. But they don’t necessarily make torture specifically more likely and many torturers will acknowledge the humanity of their victims.

 Some torturers do use language that blames their victims but- not in quite the way you’ve put it here. They don’t tend to say victim’s ‘made them’ torture. Instead they tend to suggest that the victims put themselves in a position where they knew they were going to be tortured.

 ‘A kid that colour walking around in that part of town at night? What did he expect!’

 That kind of phrasing is something I see more regularly.

 Another common one is torturers suggesting the victims ‘deserved it’ because of a particular characteristic: ie race, sexuality, gender, homelessness, disability. Arguing that a victim was ‘probably guilty’ or is actually guilty of a crime and therefore ‘should’ be tortured is also pretty common among torturers.

 But- I also get the impression that most torturers just don’t think about their victims much. Not as human individuals anyway. They don’t seem to consider the lasting impact they have on other people in any meaningful way.

 I think this is easiest to illustrate by looking at the way torturers express regret. Because they do often express regret for what they did.

 But it’s not expressed as them primarily being sorry they hurt so many people. Instead it’s- they regret what they did because they have nightmares about it. Because they’re ill and the symptoms are terrible. Because they lost their job. Because they’re socially isolated.

 It’s regret focused on the consequences of torture for the torturer rather then an acknowledgement of the scale of harm they caused their victims.

 I often get asks that suggest this as an inherent characteristic that ‘makes’ people torturers but there’s no evidence to support that. I personally believe this lack of empathy is an effect of torture rather then something that leads to torture.

 I guess what I’m driving at here is that there is a rather selfish focus in torturers. But beyond that symptoms in torturers look pretty much the same as symptoms in everyone else.

 My impression, based on the interviews I’ve read, is that unless the subject of torture comes up torturers come across as trauma survivors. Asshole trauma survivors but still trauma survivors.

 They tend to be rather convinced of their own importance. I’m unsure where this personality trait comes from but it does seem common. It could be a product of the sub-culture torturers create.

 And that brings me more or less to- well the answer to the big question here: why do they do it? How can they do it?

 My opinion is that the answer has little to do with individuals and everything to do with organisations.

 I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: Torturers do not work alone.

 Torture by it’s definition and nature is a function of groups, of broken systems.

 Torturers are not individuals who arbitrarily decide to abuse someone. They are police officers with little training and no funding instructed to ‘do something now’. They are soldiers who’ve been taught over a lifetime that the ‘enemy would do the same to us’. They are teachers told to ‘control the class or else’.

 They’re groups of people in an environment that has a huge pressure to produce ‘results’ while also being under trained, under staffed, under funded and unsupervised. Into this already unhealthy mix throw the persistent background cultural lie that torture is a short cut to the results they want.

 Hell the persistent cultural message that violence is any kind of answer.

 Is it really a surprise that our police turn to torture when we don’t teach them to interrogate and our news outlets, our politics, our fiction is full of apologia telling them that abuse will get them the results they want?

 The mindset that let’s torturers abuse other people does rely on assumptions that some people are ‘lesser’ or otherwise ‘deserve’ to be abused. But the bit most fiction doesn’t capture is the social aspect.

 The way torturers egg each other on and the way they compete. The way they gradually become more or less the entirety of each other’s social circles. The fear they have of each other, which can trap them in the abusive role they’ve taken on. The way they lose other skills, making it feel impossible to switch. The way they seem to feel that stopping represents both personal failure and letting down the only people they still count as ‘friends’.

 The closest I’ve seen a movie come to this was The Shape of Water, the villain brilliantly captured the bizarre mix of self importance, incompetence and intense environmental stress that characterises torturers.

 Torturers say that they start because ‘there’s no other choice’. I don’t know how much they believe that piece of apologia.

 I do know that in any organisation that tortures there is often incredibly intense pressure to participate in, or at least ignore, torture. Refusal often leads to a person leaving an organisation, sometimes feet first.

 But the reasons they continue are complicated. For some of them they probably do believe the apologia, that they’re ‘doing necessary work’. Some of them definitely see their victims as less then human.

 All of them are caught in a... societal trap not unlike a cult. They’re isolated from non-torturers. They’re constantly fed the message that torturing is right. They’re threatened if they try to leave.

 I think that, whether they acknowledge it or not, the main reason torturers continue is because they know they’re at risk if they stop and they know they’ll be completely socially isolated if they stop.

 Of course sooner or later they do stop. It’s completely unsustainable.

 When they do they generally report isolation, low self esteem and difficulty functioning in society. They struggle to find and keep work. They struggle to form or maintain relationships. It wrecks their lives; the organisation chews them up and spits them out mangled to a point where they can’t navigate society.

 And because they rarely come to terms with what they’ve done they rarely recover.

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#writing advice #tw torture #writing torturers #torturers #behaviour of torturers #effects of torture on torturers #torture apologia #effects of torture on organisations

[thelonguepuree]

The tension between the sheer interest of difference and the representative function exposes what is most problematic in Buurma and Heffernan’s history of the discipline, a surprising reduction of this history to one of sameness and indifference, a history without history. In The Teaching Archive’s history of literary study, trends, movements, schools, and revolutions are, in the end, illusions. Some differences disappear altogether, as with the political differences between [TS] Eliot and [IA] Richards, or [Cleanth] Brooks and [Edmund] Wilson. The discipline was always much as it is today. The spectacular revisionism of this history will no doubt captivate readers who are weary of conflict, because it is difference that gives rise to conflict. But I don’t believe that the remedy for this weariness is to make the discipline’s history of conflict disappear. It may be true that on the ground of teaching, in the classroom, where the perspective is here and now, where the horizon is tomorrow’s class, the longer history of methodological conflict is not so urgent a concern. But this history is not an illusion. In Buurma and Heffernan’s account of the discipline, the division between critic and scholar, between teaching and scholarship, between formalism and historicism — and all other possible antagonisms — cease to animate conflict: This book rejects the idea that our discipline has been pulled in two directions, that its core has been formed by controversy over method or that its goals of producing knowledge about literature and appreciating literature have been mutually exclusive. Formalism and historicism, we argue, are convenient abstractions from a world of practice in which those methods rarely oppose one another. I would agree that this statement is true in the classroom, that good teaching is not just partisan polemic. But I would also say that a conflict such as that between formalism and historicism is not just a matter of abstraction, that something needs to be argued here in theory, and that there are stakes in the weighting of these scales. A similar reservation applies to Buurma and Heffernan’s repudiation of the received history of the discipline. In that history, there are two major moments of crisis, with subsequent periods of resolution and unwinding: the first saw the emergence of the discipline proper, with Practical Criticism and New Criticism. The second saw the unwinding of that disciplinary formation with the assimilation of Continental theory and the impact of the New Social Movements on literary study. Here again, Buurma and Heffernan want to argue that there is nothing but the illusion of change: “‘[I]dentity politics’ has flourished in all eras.” And: “Far from being a post-’68 phenomenon, ideology critique — Marxist and otherwise — threads through literature classrooms across the entire twentieth century.” It is true that the work of J. Saunders Redding precedes the African American studies programs of the post-’60s; and it is true that there were Marxists like Edmund Wilson before Fredric Jameson. But something did happen in the ’60s that transformed the discipline of literary study, along with the university and the nation. Buurma and Heffernan don’t deny this, but want to direct our attention elsewhere: “[A] disciplinary historical focus on practice rather than theory reveals interconnections rather than oppositions and continuities rather than ruptures.” At this fork in the road, I worry that Buurma and Heffernan are giving us a choice that we don’t need to make, and which they don’t need to make. This is the choice between conflict and collaboration. We need both in order to account for the history of the discipline, a conclusion that I draw with the help of The Teaching Archive itself, its vivid portraits of teacher-scholars, both their differences and what they have in common. If the literary professoriate has sometimes forgotten what happens in the classroom, it is the great contribution of this book to remind us that without collaboration, there is no teaching, and that without teaching, the discipline has no history.

John Guillory, “‘Flipping’ the History of Literary Studies,” (review of Heffernan and Buurma’s The Teaching Archive) in LARB (x)

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