#Hannah's History Lessons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovedrunkheadcanons · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter Contents

Read on AO3

WARNINGS: Satoru x wife fluff. Cute oneshot. Couple issues. Cultural differences. But not for the reasons you think.

During the beginning stages of her Japanese lessons, Hannah’s knowledge of her future home was nominal at best. When she was a young girl in England, her first ever history lesson about the Land of the Rising Sun came at an unfortunate lecture on the United State’s dropping of the atomic bomb “Little Boy.” The city of Hiroshima was reduced to a heaping graveyard of cinders, following a second atomic bombing on Nagasaki three days after.

She had come a long way since then, having acquired the Japanese language, and gained a brief, albeit comprehensive, education on the nation’s tumultuous and violent history, from the Jōmon period to modern day.

However, culture was contextual, far more slippery to master than linguistics and history lessons; The deep filial piety one defers to senior members of a group, be it elder sibling or work colleague, bowing instead of shaking hands, scrubbing your body with soap and water before entering a public bath, and greeting a person with “Konbanwa” rather than “Kon'nichiwa” when it was no longer the middle of the day. Different as a circle was to a square, these were daily customs Hannah had to integrate herself with by way of experience.

Having a Japanese husband also helped. On top of putting her through a strict training regiment, Satoru was more than willing to give cultural advice when asked. He already introduced her to the internet and the wonders of a popular video website called YouTube. Whenever she was free, the young wife would spend her afternoons watching vlog after endless vlog of Japanese and non-Japanese YouTubers. This was also a great way to find new restaurants and activities to do in the country.

Although Hannah would later come to find not all these videos contained information she wished to know.

Which explained how Satoru found his poor wife alone one evening in tears.

“Is it true?!” she cried accusatively from their bedroom.

Satoru halted at the door amidst his confusion. Eh? He had just gotten out of the shower, torso wrapped in a clean bath towel, hair dripping wet.

“That’d you’d prefer a prostitute over me?” she clarified.

Confusion turned into panic. Shit, what’d I do??!

Hannah answered for him, tilting her phone to wide-screen and holding it out. Satoru sauntered over as the video began to play. It consisted of a reporter walking around Tokyo, asking random people (mostly women) on the street this basic question: What would you think if your boyfriend or husband confided in a prostitute? The replies were as expected.

“It beats him cheating on me,” said the first woman.

“That’s difficult,” replied another, her boyfriend standing right next to her. “I wouldn’t mind if he went to let off some steam while I wasn’t able to be with him, but of course I wouldn’t like it if he had feelings for her [prostitute].”

“As long as he doesn’t love her, I don’t mind,” concurred a third.

Only a handful of women admitted to disliking the idea of their significant other visiting a prostitute. Most, if not all, came to the easy conclusion that the action was not a mark of infidelity.

“Do you really think it’s not cheating?” said Hannah when the video was over.

Satoru merely shrugged. “Well…no.”

Hannah’s lips began to tremble again, ready for a fresh onslaught of tears. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, as though her world and everything good in it was on the verge of self-combustion.

For non-Japanese folks, this was where the nuances and cultural understandings between love and sex reached a noticeable divide. Despite living in the 21st century, many of the “old ways” were still practiced, meaning in Japan it was socially acceptable for a romantic partner or spouse to have sexual relations with another. Why? The answer was simple. If you don’t “love” the person you're having sex with, then it doesn’t count as cheating. Problem solved!

“But I’m not going to confide in a prostitute, sweetheart,” Satoru tried to assuage, registering her obvious distress. “I don’t want one.”

Tough luck, that.

“But you could if you wanted to,” she sobbed. “Just wait till I’m old and grey and need a walker to move around, or too fat from having babies. You won’t want me anymore.”

“Hannah, I’m gonna be old and fat too.”

She wasn’t listening by that point. The news was too much. Satoru was rather stumped. Never before had he seen his wife so heartbroken. Was this really something to cry over? It’s not like he meant to upset her.

Satoru sat beside her on their bed.

“Hannah, sweetheart, look at me. Please?”

Hannah did as he asked, hazel eyes streaming lines of tears, sniffling helplessly. He switched to English in an effort to tamper her worries.

“You’re forgetting I love you, right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she blubbered. “They just said it didn’t.”

“Well, I say it does. And you know what else I say?”

She blinked up at him, rheumy-eyed. “What?”

His palms cupped her petite face. “I say while I don’t think it’s cheating for a partner to confide in a prostitute, I also can’t bear the thought of causing you pain.” He swiped his thumbs soothingly across her hot cheeks. “Would it hurt you, Hannah? Would me ‘theoretically’ hooking up with a prostitute - or anyone else for that matter - cause you pain?”

There were few instances when Satoru sounded like the mature half in their relationship. This was one of them.

Hannah let out another tiny sniffle and nodded solemnly. “Mmhm.”

“Then I’ll never do it,” he promised with the most sincere expression, Six Eyes heated like two blue flames. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d rather cut my own dick off, then be the reason for your unhappiness. You understand, sweetheart? Does that answer your question?”

She quietly mulled it over. “I suppose.”

He pulled her gently to him, running a calming hand down her back. “I’m not gonna cheat on you, Hannah — I mean, who would I have to cheat with?”

“Loads of people,” she simpered into his bare chest, his wet hair dripping on her forehead from his shower. “I see all kinds of men and women fawn over you when we’re together. They call me ‘busakiku’‘ behind my back.”

He chuckled, weaving his fingers through her silky autumn hair as he kissed her crown. “Sure, but do they know how to edge using only their mouth?”

Satoru couldn’t see her, but he could already tell she was flushing beet red. “W-Well, uh…um…”

Bless this woman.

“Thought so,” he declared triumphantly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but if you were a prostitute, you’d have clients lining out the door for your services. Trust me, it’s a compliment.”

“Thanks.” She seemed lost for words. “I think?”

“You're my end game, babe. The only person I want ringing my bell is you.” He gave her a light squeeze, praying it was enough to dry her tears. “Alright?”

“Alright,” his wife relented, wrapping her own arms securely around him. “But, please, don’t cut your dick off. That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, would be kinda distressing.”

“And bloody,” she added.

He laughed. “That too.”

Japanese beliefs between marriage and cheating were likely not to change anytime soon, but at least Hannah could be comforted by the knowledge her husband had no intention of breaking his marital vows.

He did love her, afterall.

Chapter Contents

Read on AO3

#jujutsu kaisen #fluff #呪術廻戦 #jjk #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x oc #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #satoru x oc #jjk fanfic #gojo takes a wife #japan #cultural differences #cultures #jjk fluff

33 notes · View notes

flamboyantly-incompetent · 1 year ago

Text

OoTP, Chapter 5 - Something Rotten

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: hints of child abuse, death mentions

Masterlist

Word Count: ~5,800

Note: Cedric's death should have affected more people imo. I also had a couple blogs in my taglist that no longer route to anything, so if you've recently changed your blog name and still would like to be tagged let me know!

Halloween went by with the usual fanfare: Jack-O-Lanterns lined the walls of the Great Hall and bobbed lazily under the levitation spell, the ghosts even seemed more chipper and some made a habit of spooking unsuspecting first years. Peeves was especially insufferable this time of year, though you somehow managed to scrape by with only one encounter, during which he'd juggled far too many burning Jack-O-Lanterns above your head as you sprinted for the safety of the common room.

October bled into November, which lasted a single day before it was renamed 'Quidditch Season.' The first game was, as usual, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. You didn't go, but you heard from Herbert that Gryffindor won, and Slytherin (meaning Malfoy) were still dirty players and sore losers. That next week especially you avoided contact with the whole Slytherin house. They were in poor spirits and had a tendency to lash out at the nearest person with a cursable face, though by Saturday your lessons with Draco went smoothly enough.

Monday morning found the Great Hall abuzz with excitement. You sat down to breakfast across from Donna, who turned immediately to Hannah Abbott, and said, "What's everybody talking about?"

Hannah grinned. "Hagrid's back! People are taking bets on how soon Grubbly-Plank goes back into retirement.

The doors to the courtyard flew open with a bang to reveal a snow coated Hagrid. His reception was mixed. Several Gryffindor students leapt from their seats to greet him, but others seemed to turn one or several shades of green. You yourself smiled happily, ready for more interesting Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Then you remembered Umbridge, and your smile faded into a grimace.

Yvette met your eye from across the table. Apparently the same thought had crossed her mind.

"I wonder," you began slowly.

She finished, "What he has planned? Me too.

Donna gulped down some pumpkin juice and got up. "Let's go ask him." You followed Yvette and Donna, cutting him off before he could reach the teacher's table.

His eyes lit up from under bushy eyebrows when he saw the three of you, his cheeks already ruddy from the heat of the Great Hall's gargantuan fireplaces. "Well, if t'isn't me favorite fourth years!" He put his giant hands on his hips. "Where's Herb?"

Donna answered, "Hospital wing. Said Peeves dropped something on his head." You shared a look with Yvette, knowing for a fact he was just trying to get out of a History of Magic exam and had dropped a pumpkin on his own head with the levitation charm.

Hagrid chortled. "Madame Pomfrey will have him righ' as rain for the afternoon then. No doubt about that. How've you all been holding up?"

"Good," Yvette said, "but we're happy to have you back, Professor." Hagrid beamed.

You interjected, "We were also wondering when you'd be back to teaching, and what you have planned. Whether it's something..."

"Dangerous," Donna finished.

Hagrid laughed and patted your shoulder, you swayed under the weight. “Don’t you worry, I've got somethin great lined up for this afternoon, you'll love it. In fact, you should come down a little early, if you’ve got the time. I’ve got a surprise.” He said nothing else, and moved past you to take his place at the teacher’s table.

That had not, at all, answered your question and had only led to more. Which was unsurprising. The three of you shrugged at each other and went back to the Hufflepuff table to eat and cram from A History of Magic before slumping off to Binn’s classroom.

When you got there, Herbert was already sitting at his desk, a bump the size of a snitch on his forehead, grumpily flipping through his textbook.

After slogging through a dozen and a half questions about goblins and goblin rebellions, you pulled Herbert along to the Great Hall, filling him in. He was, unsurprisingly, less than thrilled at the news that your favorite professor (perhaps a close second to Professor Sprout) had returned and would be resuming his curriculum immediately.

He groaned, stuffing sausage rolls into a pocket in his robes. “We have to go now?”

“Yes, Herbert,” Donna implored, doing the same, “we can eat later - let’s go!” She grabbed him by the wrist and began pulling.

“Alright, alright.” He pulled himself from her grasp and walked along with the group willingly. “I just hope this surprise of his doesn’t singe my school robes again.”

You laughed, “Oh, come on. With any luck it’s either something cute or something deadly.”

The four of you hurried down the snowy path, clinging to each other in random intervals to keep from sliding and giggling wildly all the way, to Hagrid’s hut. It was good to see smoke rising from the chimney again. The door was open, Fang lay asleep on the threshold, so still if you didn’t know better you’d guess he was dead. He snored loudly as you stepped over him first.

“Hagrid?” you called quietly. He looked up from his woodstove, a tea kettle sat over the fire. In this lighting, you noticed he looked a little worse for wear. His face was puffy in places, and discolored, but when he saw the four of you he beamed. Same old Hagrid.

“Come in, come in. Oh don’t mind the old lug, he’s been asleep for hours.” He gestured at the chairs crowding a tiny dining table. “Want a cuppa?”

“Where have you been?” Yvette asked before settling herself into a chair and crossing her arms. “We’ve missed your lessons.” Herbert made a noise; Donna stamped his foot under the table.

Hagrid chuckled and set tea cups down in front of each of you. In his giant hands they looked minuscule. “I’ll have ye know it’s none of your business, but I was in France. Visiting a friend.” You shared a look with Yvette. “And you’ll all like what I have planned for today. It’s perfect timing.” He didn’t elaborate, but the tea kettle began to whistle. “Just a mo’.”

Herbert cleared his throat. “So, Hagrid. About that surprise?”

“Right, right, o’ course.” He turned back around and put the kettle back on the stove, which started whistling again immediately. He picked it back up and poured the steaming water into the cups before opening various cabinets. “Now, where did I… ha! The ministry had these enchanted for the tournament last year, and Dumbledore convinced them to leave em with me.” He sat down between Yvette and Donna, a velvet pouch in his hand. It was squirming. “You’ll like this especially, Y/N.”

You gasped. From the bag emerged four tiny but incredibly lifelike dragons. Dragons. The green one took to the air at once, flitting around the hut above your heads, while the one you recognized as the Hungarian Horntail let out a wildly adorable roar and a tiny jet of flame.

“I figured these’d be close enough to the real thing, for Advanced Care of Magical Creatures.” He looked at you pointedly.

The Welsh Green had settled in a hanging pot of basil, observing from above, while the Swedish Short-Snout lumbered towards your hand and tried to take a chunk out of your thumb. It pinched a little, but the tiny dragon did not let go. You laughed weakly, in shock, as you held the thing in your hand. “Count me in,” you said.

The Chinese Fireball had snuck up on the Horntail and tackled it, but was no match for the other dragon’s strength and tenacity. Hagrid pulled them apart before permanent damage could be done.

Herbert whistled. “This is cool, Hagrid.”

“Well don’ sound so surprised!”

He stuttered, “It’s just that, well you know, I just hoped, oh nevermind it.”

Hagrid herded the three dragons on the table back into the bag, you had to coax the Short-Snout to release your hand, and then stood up to be eye level with the Welsh Green. He held the bag open, close to it, and pointed. The tiny dragon leapt up into the air, tucked its wings, and dove into the bag.

“There,” he said, smiling contentedly, “I thought you bunch would get a kick out of that.”

Yvette, who had also not stopped smiling, said, “Thanks, Hagrid. It is good to have you back.”

“Yeah, but we’d better go,” Donna said, peering out the window. “There’s already a crowd by the forest.”

Hagrid picked Fang up and put him by the fire, the dog did not wake up but began to snore louder, and led the four of you out of his hut and out into the cold, carrying a bucket full of something absolutely putrid. He waited until all the other students had arrived, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw shared this class and chatted among themselves to speculate what was to come, and then asked the class to follow him. He did not take a turn into the forest as you expected, but continued along its edge for several minutes, and only stopped at the shore of the Black Lake.

You exchanged confused looks with several classmates. Hagrid looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Now, how many of you’ve heard of the giant squid?” he began. Most students raised their hands. “And how many of you think it’s a prank pulled by older students?” You raised your hand sheepishly, along with a handful of others. “Not surprising, he’s a reclusive creature, but this time o’ year, if you offer him something yummy he usually shows himself.” Your jaw hung open. Hagrid waved again, and led the class to the pier. He had everyone stand in a line at the edge, held the bucket above his head, and shouted out across the waves, “C’mere Squish! I’ve something for ya!”

“He named the squid Squish?” Donna muttered.

“Are you surprised?” you muttered back.

For several minutes, nothing happened. Hagrid pulled an oily fish out of the bucked and dipped it in the black water. Still nothing. The students around you began to murmer again. Then, there was a ripple.

You elbowed Donna. “Look,” you said, pointing out at the line being drawn in the waves. Something big was moving under the water. “Uh, Professor?” you called.

He waved you off. “Here he comes! Get ready!” The line drew closer and closer until it was almost to the pier, and then. It was gone. Hagrid deflated just a bit and reached again for the bucket. Before he could touch it though, two huge, jet black tentacles erupted from the surface, spraying everyone with frigid water, and grabbed the whole bucket and disappeared back under the water.

Donna looked at you, mouth agape, then turned to Herbert. “Do you still have those sausage rolls?”

“Yeah, but I was gonna-”

“Can I have one?”

“But-”

“Oh, come on. I’ll proofread your Divination assignment?”

Herbert sighed heavily, and reached into his pocket. Donna beamed. You, Yvette, and Herbert followed her as she elbowed her way to the end of the pier next to Hagrid. She held the roll above her head and called, “Uh, Squish? I’ve got somethin else for ya!” The Ravenclaw next to you looked at Donna in horror. Hagrid only egged her on.

You watched, enthralled, as a gigantic, black shape glided out from under the pier. The Black Lake, murky as it was, left much to the imagination, but if you had to guess you’d say that Squish was at least ten meters long. Donna held the sausage roll out like you would feed a horse a carrot - on the palm of her hand, fingers well out of the way. A smaller tentacle reached out slowly, much gentler this time, and plucked the roll out of her palm.

The class was speechless. If there hadn’t been the constant thrum of water against shore, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

Hagrid clapped again, grinning ear to ear, and said, “He’ll be happy now, he’s had dinner and desert.” He clapped Donna on the shoulder. “Right, let’s move back onto shore and we can finish up the lesson.”

The class gathered around Hagrid on the stony shore in stunned silence. Clearly, even if they believed the rumor, no one expected the creature to be so big, or get so close. A majestic creature, sure, but what was it doing in a freshwater lake?

Hagrid seemed ready to answer your question, as he began, “Who can tell me the typical stomping grounds of a giant squid?”

A Ravenclaw, a muggleborn you’d met through the DA, raised his hand. “They’re deep sea dwellers. So what’s this-”

“One doing here? An excellent question Mr. Goldstein. A normal giant squid is only expected to live five years or so, but this one’s been living in our very own lake for at least a century. So, what’s special about this one? Ordinary creatures, when they interact with existing magical traces in unexpected ways, can turn magical.”

A thought occurred to you; you raised your hand. “Like the magical barrier surrounding Hogwarts?”

“Exactly! That is my own theory, Dumbledore agrees it’s likely. And ever since then, his lifespan has increased, and he’s far more intelligent than a typical giant squid.”

The Ravenclaw spoke up again, “But what about the other things in the lake? Don’t they get territorial?”

“Another excellent question - five points. Now the funny thing about that, we learned from the merfolk last year. Apparently, they’re able to share because they’ve established hunting grounds, and Squish hunts a number of nasties the merfolk don’t like, like Grindylows, which he’s only able to do because he’s been changed by magic somehow.”

The class continued to pepper Hagrid with questions, apparently the idea of a magically mutated animal fascinated most of the Ravenclaw students, right up to the chime of the bell echoing from far away. The castle was a long walk away and by the time you got back inside, in front of a fireplace, you excused yourself to skip a trip to the library and went to go lie down for the hour before dinner. About five minutes in, Wilbur found you and began kneading into your chest.

The week trudged on, Donna proofread an assignment for Herbert as promised - an essay comparing Herbert’s astrological sign to his older brothers’ - and on Saturday morning, instead of going straight to the Quidditch pitch, you actually joined your friends for breakfast. It was the last Quidditch match before the holiday break - Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw. Yvette had been a vibrant cluster of nerves and excitement all week and by the time she sat down in the Great Hall she was practically bouncing off the walls. Luna Lovegood was wearing a cloak that looked like raven’s wings, along with a large hat with a protruding beak. When you asked her about it, she opened the beak, which promply played the Hogwarts’ anthem in a series of caws.

The match did not go well. Wanda Clemm had apparently just been dumped by her girlfriend, and was even more inconsolable after what she called the worst performance of her life.

Your tutoring sessions with Draco Malfoy continued in relative civility into December - Professor Sprout had the class preparing the fire-breathing snap dragons for hibernation over Christmas break - and you were loathe to admit it but you’d grown rather comfortable with the arrangement. The Dumbledore’s Army meetings continued as well, and before break, you planned to ask Harry Potter about your friends possibly joining. The more you learned from him, the more you believed the urgency of the threat.

The last week of term, you sat at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall, surrounded by sparkling evergreen trees topped with stars that twinkled and sent out tiny flying reindeer at odd intervals. Donna and Herbert were discussing their holiday plans next to you; Yvette had been in a perpetually sour mood since losing to Ravenclaw and was angrily flipping pages through Intermediate Transfiguration pretending to study.

A gentle thrum signaled the arrival of at least a hundred owls prepared to drop off mail. The first few dropped in to circle the tables, and as more and more joined them you spotted your mother’s owl - Bertha. She settled on the table and held out her leg casually while she began preening.

Dear Y/N, I hope your year is going well, we all of course miss you at home and are excited to see you for Christmas! The shop is doing well, we may have to expand next year but that’s so long as the prices at Apothecary in Diagon Alley stay so inflated. It’s been a boon to have so much of their business transfer here. Your Screechsnap misses you, so does Buttercup, and so do we! We’ll pick you up at Kings Cross at noon? Love you, Mum & Julien

You smiled to yourself; you missed the family’s King Charles Spaniel called Buttercup too, and you could already smell your step-father’s homemade cauldron cakes.

Ezra Roberts sat down next to your group. “Hey, Yvette.”

She looked up, surprised. “Hey.”

“I’m writing a Christmas card for Mr. Diggory; I wondered if you wanted to write one too. Any of you. I’m asking most of the house. Nothing too fancy, just… you know.” You nodded without thinking. Before you could take it back, Ezra clapped you and Yvette on the shoulders and grinned. “Great - I’ll need them before term ends. I really think he’ll like hearing from people. See ya later!”

What had you just agreed to, exactly? Yvette saw the look on your face and burst out laughing.

“What do I even say?” you asked, incredulous. “I barely knew Cedric. Oh stop laughing at me, you’re on the Quidditch team at least, you can talk about that. I’ve got nothing.” You groaned and put your face in your hands.

Yvette patted you on the head. “There, there, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” You shot her a look. “Yeesh, fine, just write about what you do know and wish him a Happy Christmas. You don’t have to pour your heart and soul out for every single person on the planet.”

“But if she didn’t she wouldn’t be the Hufflepuff we all know and love,” Herbert snarked through buttered toast.

There was a sudden hush as across the room a bench screeched against the stone floor. Draco Malfoy stormed out of the hall, shoulders slumped, not at all his usual haughty gait. During your tutoring session two days ago, he’d sounded perfectly normal. As normal as ever, anyway. The silence broke in a growing thrum of whispers. Ernie and Hannah sat down, gossiping quietly; you leaned over to ask, “What’s going on?”

Hannah laughed, embarrassed. “It’s really not funny, I almost feel bad for laughing.”

“Oh, come on,” Ernie interrupted. “It’s kind of nice to see him knocked down a peg. I heard that his parents don’t want him home for the holidays.”

“What? Why?” you asked.

Ernie thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, I think they had some kind of row or something.”

“Huh?”

“Malfoy and his dad,” Hannah said. “I heard from Justin, who heard from Padma Patil, that Dean Thomas overheard him complaining to those thugs who follow him everywhere that they had a spat about the family’s ‘rightful status.’”

You grimaced, wondering if they were arguing about Draco working for the Ministry.

Donna weighed in, “Yikes.”

“Oh yeah,” Ernie said, spewing toast crumbs across the table, “a gem.”

You excused yourself to hurry after him, spurred on by some unidentified sense of duty, and caught him on the dark stone stairs to the dungeons. “Hey, wait!”

He turned and looked at you coldly. His face seemed paler than usual. “What is it?”

“Are you really staying here for Christmas?”

He scowled and crossed his arms. “How did you know about that?”

“Everyone is kinda talking about it. How come?”

“Because you gave me the bright idea to disobey my father.” He jabbed a finger at you as he said it, and his sleeve pulled back just enough to show a hint of discoloration. Your heart sunk to your feet. “And then he asked where I got such an idea, and then-”

“He found out about-”

“Me being tutored by a Hufflepuff, my undignified career goals.” He crossed his arms again. “So I’ve been banished. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to unpack.” He turned on his heels and disappeared down the stairs.

After forcing yourself to listen to Professor Binns all morning, you spent the break before lunch in the library, either staring blankly at a card with a glittering poinsettia on the front, or starting blankly at the shelves hoping you’d happen across one called An Idiot’s Guide to Greeting Cards. You had no such luck. Draco never showed up to lunch. Hagrid had the afternoon Care of Magical Creatures class pick strips of paper out of a bucket, yours said “Flobberworm,” and when you learned the purpose of them you were wildly jealous of Anthony Goldstein who had picked the strip labeled “Unicorn.” Hagrid handed everyone their own buckets, and said that whoever created the best treat basket for their given creature would win ten points. It was not his best lesson, but it seemed like everyone understood that after Umbridge’s visit to the fifth years’ lesson, it was better for everyone to play it safe.

You’d planned on trying again to write Mr. Diggory after dinner, but the common room had been decorated with garlands and the fireplace had been enchanted to burn red and green and gold, and through the enchanted windows blew sparkling snow and the scent of hot cocoa, and you immediately forgot all about writing a Christmas card in the revelry.

The next morning, though, you remembered.

Draco wasn’t in Herbology, either, though Crabbe, Goyle, and that sycophantic Slytherin girl had shown up to class. The three of them seemed to be having enough trouble handling their snapdragons on their own, so you waited until everyone else was done, and quickly tended to Draco’s. Just to keep it alive over break. After potions, Donna, Yvette, Herbert and yourself all ate a hurried dinner and went straight to the library to get some last minute work done. You scribbled away at a chart for Astronomy, which was due in an hour, until Yvette brought up what she’d put in her Christmas card to Mr. Diggory.

“I thought he’d like to know that the whole house came out for Quidditch tryouts. Left out how badly we were demolished by Ravenclaw of course,” she said nonchalantly. She was only trying to be helpful, but it still felt like nagging. “I really think once you get started-”

“Look, right now, the only thing I wanna think about is where Ursa Major is relative to Cassiopeia on my birthday.”

“Fine,” she said coldly. “I’ll see you in Astronomy.” She swiped her books into her bags and flounced out of the library.

Herbert and Donna were staring at you. “What was that about?” you asked.

“Well,” Donna started slowly, “it’s just that you’ve been so… absent, lately. I think she, I mean, we all just kind of… miss you?”

“What?” you asked, incredulous.

Herbert rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’re all over the place these days. Most evenings we don’t even see you. You never come to breakfast on the weekends, and you’re behind in every class.”

“Am not!”

“Name one.”

You smirked. “Herbology.”

“That one doesn’t count and you know it.” You huffed and crossed your arms. “You’re hiding something, Y/N.”

“Guys,” Donna interrupted, bent over her own assignment, “can we talk about this later? This is due for Ancient Runes tomorrow morning.”

“Am I the only one in this friend group capable of finishing work on time?”

“It will be on time so long as I finish it before Astronomy.”

“You know what?” Herbert picked up his own stack of books. “I’ll see you in Astronomy as well.”

You watched him leave, shocked. “What is going on?”

Donna did not look up, “You have been a little distant lately. Otherwise you’d know that Yvette’s granddad was killed in a freak accident last week. It was all over the muggle newspapers, her mum sent a letter. Dangerous things have been happening in the muggle world, lately. Not that you’d have any reason to know about them. But with how Defense Against the Dark Arts has been going, it would be nice if we could all talk to each other for more than ten minutes at a time.”

The tension in your shoulders deflated. Maybe you had been less than attentive to your friends. How were you supposed to know about any of this if she didn’t tell you? It wasn’t like you didn’t see them everyday. But then again, you wouldn’t want to talk to someone you felt pulling away. “And Herbert?”

“Herbert’s been into Yvette since last term.”

“What?”

She smiled into her parchment. “He never would’ve tried out for Quidditch if he wasn’t.”

“Does she know?”

“Ha, nope.”

“Does he know you know?”

“Nope.”

“Well how do you know then?”

She set her quill down and looked at you knowingly. “Because I pay attention.”

“Oof, ok. Point taken.”

You finished the chart with ten minutes to spare, which was just enough time for you to follow Donna to the Astronomy tower; you thanked her three times on the way for sticking around for you. Yvette didn’t speak to you, and she and Herbert left you and Donna behind on the way back to the common room after class.

Just as you followed Donna through the round painted door, Yvette nowhere in sight, the Galleon in your pocket began to heat up. Tomorrow night, two hours before curfew. You bid Donna goodnight and sat down in an armchair before the fireplace with the pretense of finally writing that Christmas card. Instead, you wrote a quick note to Harry Potter, figuring you could send it discreetly by owl in the morning.

To do so, though, you had to wake up at the crack of dawn. Across from you, Donna still slept soundly, and with the curtains pulled tightly shut on Yvette’s bed you weren’t even sure if she was there or not. You left some treats on your pillow for Wilbur and snuck out through the common room to the Owlery. Donna and Herbert joined you for breakfast; Yvette sat at the other end of the table. You watched for the owls, when one swooped down next to Harry Potter with your note, you saw him read it, and immediately show it to Hermione Granger, who in turn looked up to make eye contact with you from across the Hall. Transfiguration was your only class of the day, after lunch, so when your friends excused themselves to get to their own electives, you met her, Harry, and Ginny’s brother in the courtyard under the clock tower.

“You know Ginny, right?” Ginny’s brother, Ron, asked.

You nodded. “And Luna. But Ginny’s the one who told me about the, uh, study group.”

“And you want to invite some people? For tonight?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, if I can. They’re just friends from my house. Two of them are muggleborns, and they’re going home for Christmas, and even their families can tell something’s off.”

Hermione nodded. “They’ll have to sign up, but the room shouldn’t have any problem scaling for a few extra.” She and Ron both looked to Harry to confirm, who nodded. “We’ll be by at dinner. It’s still a secret until then.”

“Thank you.” A weight lifted from your shoulders. “See you then!”

You hung out in the library until lunch, nestled in between two bookcases in front of a window, trying once again to write a Christmas card. Snow was falling gracefully outside, and you were content to watch it idly until something black, moving fast, caught your eye. Someone on a broom, high above the Quidditch pitch. You wondered for a moment if it was Yvette, if she’d skipped Divination for an end of term practice, but the glint of silver on the figure’s head disproved that theory. Even from a distance, the black blur of Malfoy as he buzzed around the pitch, when he stopped and just hung in the air, seemed a bit lost.

You cursed under your breath and put a piece of parchment over the blank card.

Hi Mum! And Julien! Do you think I could stay at Hogwarts for break? I think I may have given a friend some bad advice, and I don’t want to leave them alone on Christmas. Give my love and apologies to Buttercup, please. Happy Christmas, Y/N

You read back through the letter once, shocked you’d called Draco a friend without a second thought, but you could deal with that later, and headed for the owlery for the second time.

Yvette broke her silence at lunch, asking about an essay on the Shrivelfig due for the fourth year Herbology class the next day, so you took the opportunity.

“So, Herbert said I’ve been hiding something,” you started. Donna, Herbert and Yvette leaned in, listening, so you could speak quietly. “He was right. I’m sorry, I realize this isn’t amazing timing, but if none of you have plans after dinner, I can show you what I’ve been doing.” They all wore the same dumbfounded expression. “It’s kind of a secret, so that’s all I can say until then. Just, come to dinner and then if you want you can go back to not speaking to me.”

Yvette leaned back, her arms crossed. “Have you written that Christmas card yet?”

“Not yet, but I will,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Well then I guess we’ll have to see.”

Transfiguration went better than you’d ever dared to hope - you successfully transformed your cat Wilbur into a white marble drinking goblet and back again. Your friends joined you for dinner, and, as promised, Hermione came over after most other students left to pack for the holiday.

She sat down across from Herbert and placed the DA member list on the table, glancing around for teachers, particularly Umbridge. “We’ve been meeting sporadically, training in defensive magic. Y/N’s vouched for you if you want to join.”

“Who’s been teaching?” Donna asked, “You?”

Hermione shook her head and said quietly, “Harry’s the only one with the qualifications-”

“Harry Potter?” asked Yvette.

“Well, yes, he’s the only one who’s fought with You-Know-Who and lived, so-”

“Last year, you mean?” asked Herbert, who was side-eying you.

She huffed at the second interruption. “Last year, and two years before that, and a year before that! Do you think he’s unqualified?” Herbert shrugged and looked at his shoes. “Anyway, we’re meeting tonight. Y/N can take you, but you have to sign this first.” Yvette signed without hesitation, which meant Herbert signed next.

You looked at Donna. Donna looked back. “You’ve been learning from Harry Potter, and you didn’t think to tell us?”

You smiled sheepishly, “It was a secret! And, up until just now, kind of… invite only?”

She rolled her eyes at you and signed the parchment. Hermione, seemingly satisfied, rolled it up and slipped it back into her robes before departing. None of your friends had heard of the Room of Requirement before, and when they walked in to see their prefects, among several other Hufflepuff students, surrounded by touching but gaudy Christmas decor, their jaws dropped open.

Harry was chatting with some of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but waved politely at his new pupils when he saw you. He addressed the room, “Okay! I think this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, we’ve a couple new people and since this is the last meeting before term, we may as well just get them acquainted-”

Zacharias immediately began complaining, “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have come…” until Yvette shot him a withering look.

Everyone divided into pairs; yourself with Yvette, Ernie with Donna, and Hannah with Herbert. Starting with the Impediment Jinx, Yvette was a quick study; even with your experience with the DA she managed to hit you more than you could manage to stun her. Then, the group got out the cushions to practice Stunning, and you watched as your friends held their own, though with varying degrees of success, against some older students. After a while, Harry called a halt. He seemed impressed with the progress everyone had made, and mentioned trying the Patronus Charm after break, earning a ripple of excited whispers from everyone.

Grinning and out of breath, Yvette clapped you on the shoulder. “This is great! I think I learned more this past hour than a whole semester with Umbridge.”

“Yeah,” Donna said, looking markedly less pleased. “It’s a wonder it took you so long to invite us.”

You sputtered, “Well I just, like I said it was all very secret, and it is technically against the rules according to Educational Decree something or other.”

Donna waved a hand dismissively. “Who cares about that old toad?”

“My mum, for one,” said Herbert, grinning, “she’d be livid if she knew I was disobeying someone from the Ministry.”

All around you, people were filing out in twos and threes. Hannah turned to wish Harry a Happy Christmas, but before she could say anything, her face fell and she tapped Ernie on the shoulder. The four of you turned around as well; it was Cho. Standing in front of Cedric’s picture that had been taped under some clippings from the Daily Prophet on the mirrored wall. You all tapped the other Hufflepuffs as they passed you, and they all stopped, except for Zacharias Smith, who simply rolled his eyes and left.

Her shoulders shook; Hannah flinched.

“Cho?” she said, tentatively, the rest of you moving up carefully behind her.

Cho startled, and turned around, sniffling. “Oh, Hannah.” She hastily wiped her eyes. “I thought you’d already-”

“We just, sorry, we just wanted to tell you that, um,” Hannah looked around at the rest of you, “we’re with you. We miss him too.” A few students around you affirmed this quietly.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, still patting her puffy cheeks.

“He was a good person,” Ernie said.

She nodded.

Yvette added, “Who deserved better.”

Cho let out a choked sob. You, eyes burning, reached a hand out and patted her lightly on the shoulder, which only made her cry harder. “Sorry,” you said, embarrassed. Cho’s friend sidled up to her, looking at all of you suspiciously.

“Have a Happy Christmas, Cho,” Hannah said quietly, before herding the rest of your house back to the common room.

Later, you sat before the fireplace in the common room once again, knit woolen blanket draped over your legs, quill in hand, looking at a blank Christmas card. Then, you started to write.

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@jemomgershippingco

@snickersmee

@lafrone

@cillshot

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter #slow burn #dumbledore's army #order of the phoenix #rubeus hagrid

38 notes · View notes

fandomsaligninstories · 9 months ago

Text

Year Two: The Dueling Club

Chapter List WC: 1,931

17th December, 1992, Thursday

Violet had been given a note to excuse her from classes for the day, but by lunch time, she was bored out of her mind in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey agreed to let her leave, so long as she tried to avoid stressful situations for the time being. Violet wanted to respond that it wasn't like she went looking for stressful situations, they just happened to find her, but she didn't want to be rude to the healer, as she'd been nothing but kind.

After stopping by her dorm to drop of the vase of flowers and grab her bag, Violet arrived at the Great Hall with just enough time to eat. Her entire friend group, Caroline excluded, pounced with questions before she'd even had the chance to sit down.

"I'm alright!" She sighed, loading up her plate, "I was sick, that's all. I slept the entire time, nothing exciting happened."

"We were so worried!" Aimee leaned her head on Violet's shoulder, "We woke up and you were gone. No note, nothing."

"I'm really sorry," She apologized again, looking at Aimee, Hannah, and Cedric, "I woke up in the middle of the night not feeling well. I didn't think it would such an issue."

"Not an issue," Cedric corrected kindly, "But with the recents attacks, maybe don't vanish without a trace?"

Violet laughed, "Alright, if it happens again, I'll let someone know. Can I eat in peace now?"

Hannah and Aimee took turns catching Violet up on what she'd missed in class the day before, as well as giving her the homework the professors had provided. They'd only had Transfiguration, D.A.D.A, Charms, and Herbology. Herbology was the only class she was sad to have missed, though Transfiguration was a close second.

She was sort of glad to have missed Professor McGonagall; their encounters had been slightly awkward and unnerving ever since the start of the year. Every time Violet was near the professor, she felt like she was being watched, but she couldn't figure out why. Why did the professor have such an interest in her? What was she expecting to see, staring at Violet so frequently?

Violet had mentioned it to her friends, but none of them ever seemed to notice it. She wasn't afraid by any means, she knew the professor meant no harm. She just wanted to know why.

She only had two classes after lunch- History of Magic and Charms, with a free period in-between.

When she got to History, she sat her bag at her usual seat with Aimee and Hannah, then moved across the room to the Slytherin tables. She stopped in front of Draco, a gentle smile curving her lips.

Draco looked up at her, surprised. Then his eye got the single flower clipped in her hair.

"I didn't get the chance to thank you." Was her greeting.

He nodded. He didn't know what to say, and even if he did, with all the first-year Slytherins staring at him, he wasn't sure he'd have to courage to say anything.

Her smile fell at his silence, "Right... I'll just go now."

Draco's hand snapped around, grabbing her hand before she could step away, "Meet after class? Our usual spot?"

Violet stared at her hand in his. It wasn't an intimate gesture, but still, her entire arm was tingling. "Hm? Yes, yeah, alright."

She returned to her seat then, as Professor Binns had begun his lesson.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

After another boring History lesson, Violet was excited to meet Draco in the library. Her friends weren't thrilled that she was already leaving them, but they were much more understanding than before. They could see that, while they didn't like Draco, Draco and Violet were slowly becoming important to each other.

Violet and Draco walked together to the library in silence. They both made a point to ignore all the other students that stared at them as they passed by. The only time she had a second thought about it was when they passed Cedric, who was glaring daggers at Draco.

When they made it to their usual table, Draco took up the seat next to Violet. He dropped his bag on the table and pulled out the D.A.D.A homework from the previous day.

He handed the parchment to Violet, who was trying to not think about how close they were, "Here, you can copy mine, if you want. It's just stupid questions about himself again."

"Of course," She rolled her eyes, taking the parchment, "Thanks."

While she quickly copied down his homework, Draco's focus remained on her. He wasn't ashamed to openly stare at her anymore. He didn't know what had gotten into him; whether it was the residual fear he'd had yesterday over her disappearance, or his newfound honesty policy in relation to her, he was done hiding himself. He just hoped it wouldn't scare her away.

She slid his parchment back to him as she finished her final sentence, "You were right. Every question is about himself. How self-centered can the man be?"

"Very, apparently. I'm not entirely convinced all these stories are true. Or, if they are, that they actually happened to him."

"I've been saying that all year!" Violet laughed, finally looking up. She was taken aback by how intense Draco was focusing on her. It was as if nothing else existed, only her, "You alright?"

He jerked back, coming back to himself, "Yeah, sorry. You coming to dueling club tonight?"

"Coming to what?!"

"Oh, right- Professor Lockhart mentioned in class yesterday that he's starting a dueling club. It's this evening after dinner. A lot of people have signed up already."

"Huh," She shrugged, "Guess I'll go then. Maybe we'll have a chance to duel, prove who's the better wizard."

Draco laughed. Violet stared in awe as he threw his head back. It was extremely rare for Draco to laugh, much less so wholeheartedly.

"Ha! We both know it'll be me, but don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

"As if!" She smacked his arm jokingly, "We both know I'll win. And I definitely won't go easy on you."

"Noted." He nodded, smiling broadly. Another rarity. Violet felt like she needed to capture this moment in her mind, scared that Draco's newfound openness wouldn't last.

The rest of the hour was spent like that, laughing and joking. By the time Violet got to Charms that afternoon, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It didn't go unnoticed by her friends, but neither Hannah or Aimee mentioned it. They were worried, still distrustful of Draco, but they were glad to see their friend so happy.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

After dinner, many students stayed behind to attend the dueling club. All of the tables and benches were cleared out of the room, except for one table, which spanned the entire length of the Great Hall. Most of the professors had left, not wanting to witness the dramatic spectical that was about to occur.

The students gathered around the table as Professor Lockhart walked along it, speaking to them, "Gather round, gather round! Can everybody see me?"

The hall quieted as everyone turned their focus to the man in front of them.

"Can you all hear me? Excellent. In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I myself have done on countless occasion. For full details, see my published works."

Violet sighed, looking around at the students to gauge their reactions. Many of them were rolling their eyes, but more were wholly focused on Lockhart. He unsnapped his cloak at threw it into the crowd, several girls gasping loudly and giggling as it landed on them.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape!" Lockhart held out a hand towards the end of the room, where Snape was stepping up onto the table. All the students stared at him, "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry."

Violet sighed again, earning an elbow to the ribs from Hannah. Violet couldn't believe so many girls were still infatuated with Lockhart.

"You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him. Never fear."

The two professors met at the center of the table, taking up the dueling stance before turning and walking five paces away. They faced each other again, raising their wands. Lockhart gave a count of three before Snape cast the first spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart went flying back, landing on his back. The crowd of students gasped, many laughing.

When Lockhart got to his feet, he marched back to the center, "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious, uh, what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would've been only too easy."

Snape replied with his usual bored tone, "Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, professor."

A moment of silence, then, "An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape! Well, let's have a volunteer pair." Lockhart looked around the room, but before hands could go up, he continued, "Um, Potter, Weasley, how about you?"

Violet looked around the room for the named pair. Harry was already on his way out of the crowd when Snape interrupted, "Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house?"

Violet didn't particularly like Ron Weasley, but she would've happily jinxed or cursed Snape for the way he called out the poor boy. It wasn't his fault he couldn't afford a new wand, even though he was the one that broke it in the first place. Snape's next words only made Violet like him less.

"Malfoy, perhaps?"

"Oh, for Godric's sake." Violet muttered under her breath.

"What's wrong?" Aimee asked.

"Harry and Draco hate each other. There's no way this ends well."

Violet had very little hope that she would be proven wrong. The way Draco stalked towards Harry only increased her concern.

"Scared, Potter?" He spat, glaring at Harry as they took up their positions.

"You wish." Harry shot back.

As they walked their five paces and turned to face each other, Violet lost all hope of this not ending with one of them seriously injured.

Lockhart didn't even finish his count of three before Draco shouted, "Everte Statum!" Sending Harry flipping backwards several meters.

The Slytherins around the room laughed, while some other houses chuckled or gasped.

"Draco!" Violet hissed, but he either ignored her or didn't hear her, as he smirked in triumph.

Harry quickly got back to his feet, hitting Draco with Rictusempra. The spell was a tickling charm, but perhaps with Harry's ill intentions, it send Draco flying backwards too.

Now the entire crowd laughed.

"I said, disarm only!" Lockhart warned both boys as they got back into the dueling stance, their wands pointed at the other.

Draco shouted, "Serpensortia!" and a snake flew out of the tip of his wand. It hissed as it slithered towards Harry.

"Don't move, Potter." Snape's tone held a bit of mock pity as he pushed Draco aside and moved towards Harry, "I'll get rid of it for you."

"Allow me, Professor Snape." Lockhart responded in a sharp tone, causing Snape to stop walking. Lockhart stepped in front of Harry, "Alate Ascendare!"

Whatever Lockhart's intention was, he only managed to anger the snake by sending it up in the air and slamming back down onto the table. Now the snake was hissing fervently, looking out at the crowd.

Harry slowly stepped forward, then started hissing at the snake. Except... No, Violet realized, he wasn't hissing. He was speaking another language.

━⊱༻ ༺⊰━ TAGLIST: @stellarlune-love

7 notes · View notes

characterassassination-at-9am · 1 year ago

Text

@obsessedwithdavrick wanted my top 7 reads of 2023 and I'm a sucker for book recs, so I'll play along ;)

Looking over my list, I read a lot of mediocre shit this year, including some books that get a lot of hype, but fell flat for me. However, there were some highlights. In no particular order:

The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah

Kristin Hannah never fails to evoke emotion and doesn't always give you a happy ending, which is hard, but real.

The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah

See above description. Maybe times two for this book.

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

A quick easy read. One of the more popular books that I read that actually lived up to the hype (IMO)

The Book of Lost Names by Kristin Harmel

In a sea of WWII historical fiction, this one stands out.

Why Fish Don't Exist by Lulu Miller

This is a non-fiction book that definitely isn't for everyone. While I didn't love the authors attempts to relate everything to her own life, I loved the rest. Science meets history meets a real life suspicious death.

Now for the MM portion of my recs:

Power Plays and Straight A's by Eden Finley and Saxon James

This is the first of a series of 5 MM hockey romance books. They were just good, easy reads with a nice balance of spice and plot.

How to Say I Do by Tal Bauer

I love almost everything I've read by Tal Bauer. Again, a good balance of sex and investment in characters and storyline.

In progress:

Pictures of You by Leta Blake

I'm cheating and including an 8th one, which is a 3 book series. But actually a series....like it's one continuing story for all 3 books and you won't be able to stop between books. I'm almost done with book 3 and have read them all in the past few days. So, I guess my opinion could change if the ending lets me down, but it's totally sucked me in. It's a queer coming of age book set in the early 90's and it's not all unicorns and rainbows. There's a lot of talk about HIV/AIDS. There's a lot of time spent on dissecting a first love and how it can be all consuming, good and bad and everything in-between. There's secret relationships and coming out and first times and finding your tribe of people; enough sex scenes, but that's not the focus really. It's also fun to revisit a time before cell phones and internet.

I won't tag people, but I'm always up for good book recs! Send them my way!

11 notes · View notes

petervintonjr · 11 months ago

Text

Lissete Denison Forth was born enslaved sometime in 1786, in Detroit in the then-unincorporated Northwest Territories. Forth was unfortunately born three years shy of the adoption of the Northwest Ordinance, which prohibited slavery in what would ultimately become Michigan. In 1805, Lisette's parents, Peter and Hannah Denison, were freed upon the death of their owner --but Lisette and her five siblings were transferred to the ownership of that owner's brother. Peter and Hannah were encouraged to sue for their children's freedom and while the territorial courts ultimately ruled only in favor of the four Denison siblings that had been born after 1789, it further asserted that the unincorporated territories were under no obligation to honor the tenets of the Fugitive Slave Law (see Lesson #123 in this series). Following the letter of this ruling, Lisette and her older brother coincidentally crossed into Canada and established residency there, returning to Detroit as immigrants in 1815.

Lisette took a job as a domestic servant for famed Detroit entrepreneur (and future mayor) Solomon Sibley, and invested her pay in land ownership, eventually incurring enough money to buy four lots in Pontiac, Michigan --making her the very first Black property owner in the city. She later leased the lots to her brother and eventually sold the property. In the meantime she took on another job in the household of another well-known Detroit figure (and another future mayor!), John Biddle, and continued her practice of investing her earnings into property and stock ownership, to include a steamboat and a bank: unheard-of ventures for a Black woman at that time. The Biddles moved first to Philadelphia and then to Paris, imploring Lisette to come with them, who by then had become a close family friend, particularly with John's wife Eliza.

Upon her return to Michigan in 1856, Lisette had accumulated enough capital to build a chapel, and after her death in 1866 her estate (administered by the Biddles' son William) hired famed architect Gordon Lloyd to design and build St. James Episcopal Church in what is now Grosse Ile township. The church was completed in 1868 and stands to this day as a dedication to Lisette's memory and life.

Teachers: Need some resources to engage your students this Black History Month? I'll send you a pile of these trading cards, no cost, no obligation. Just give me a mailing address and let me know how many students in your class. No strings attached, no censorship, no secret-relaying-of-names to Abbott or DeSantis or HuckaSanders. #blackhistorymonth

#black lives matter #dothework #black history month #Lissete Denison Forth #teachtruth #northwest ordinance

9 notes · View notes

tabithaelicot · 3 months ago

Text

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Tabitha Prior, the 29 year old owner of Shadow’s Curiosities originally from Cardinal Hill, WA. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're affectionate and a perfectionist, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something… ― Hannah Dodd, bisexual, cis woman, and she/her.

Basics

Name: Tabitha Elicot Prior Birthday: 4 March 1961, 9:02pm Natal Chart: Pisces sun, Libra moon, Taurus ascendant Positive Traits: affectionate, responsible, dedicated, sociable Negative Traits: perfectionist, anxious, self-blaming, self sacrificing Likes: family, antiques, history, fashion, magic, dancing, math & numbers Dislikes: being criticized, down time, trends, change Hobbies: cooking & baking, furniture restoration, sewing & quilting, piano

Appearance

Hair Color: platinum blonde Eye Color: hazel Height: 5’6” Build: willowy Tattoos: tbd sisters inspired tattoo(s) Piercings: several ear piercings, nose ring Clothing Style: feminine and casual, lots of jewel and earth tones, likes paisley and floral patterns Distinguishing Characteristics: tall forehead, mole above upper lip, high cheekbones, expressive face

Quick Facts

Everything about Tabitha screams delicate at first glance and, unless you’re unfortunate enough to cross her (usually by messing with her sisters), you probably won’t realize just how wrong that first impression is.

Tabitha is the prototypical eldest daughter, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves her sisters, is very involved (possibly too involved) in their lives, and takes her responsibility of setting a good example for them very seriously. She sees no difference between her two full sisters and her three half sisters and she won’t tolerate anyone trying to insist that there is one. While Tabitha’s never had trouble getting along with people and making friends, her best friends always have been and always will be her sisters.

Tabitha loves all things magic and collects mentors like a magpie. She is always looking to learn new things and hone her craft; as a result she’s fairly powerful for her age. Her favorite form of magic is enchantments, but she’s proficient in all except for dark magic.

While she doesn’t share her mother’s outright distrust of humans, Tabitha is wary and reserved around them, unless she’s certain they already know about magic.

Tabitha is deeply connected to Cardinal Hill and hasn’t ventured terribly far outside of it. She’s never lived anywhere else, and the furthest away she’s ever traveled is visiting her sisters [details dependent on where they went to school and if any of them ever moved out of Cardinal Hill].

Tabitha started taking ballet lessons at the age of 7, and continued dancing all the way through high school. She wasn’t good enough to consider dancing in college or professionally, but she loved it. Even though it’s been more than 10 years since her last class, she still moves like a dancer.

Tabitha currently lives at her parents’ house in an apartment over the garage, ostensibly to give her some privacy and independence. In reality, her door is always open to her family, and she probably spends more time in the house proper than her apartment.

History

As the oldest Prior sister, Tabitha has the clearest memories of her birth father, and how things changed when their mother married Dorothy’s father. Because of this, Tabitha never fully warmed to him.

When Tabitha was 9, her powers started manifesting. Sometimes it was a new skirt that changed its color, sometimes it was a colored pencil that had fallen off the table reappearing in its proper place, sometimes it was the pictures in little Dorothy’s favorite book moving while Tabitha read it aloud.

In school Tabitha was something of a teacher’s pet, not because she was at the top of the class but because she was polite and helpful and always did her work on time.

Tabitha briefly considered going to college after high school graduation, but ultimately decided that she was needed at home, especially with all 5 of her sisters still in school.

She started working at Shadow’s Curiosities because she’d always been interested in objects with stories. The owner warmed to her, and soon began training her to take over the shop upon his retirement.

After a few years of working at the shop, Tabitha decided to get an associate degree in business administration at the local college, reasoning that it was a practical choice if she was going to be the owner of Shadow’s Curiosities one day.

Tabitha has been the official owner of the shop for a little over a year now, since her old boss decided to retire and spend his time traveling.

#cardinalintro #about.tabitha #little changes and/or additions over time are likely but this is the bare bones!

6 notes · View notes

a-solitary-sea-rover-backup · 9 months ago

Text

The Greatest Sailing Movie (N)Ever Made

Discussions of sailing movies online tend to circle around the same dozen names or so. How many errors did you spot in All is Lost? Was Master and Commander just too jargon-heavy to be a hit? Wind— love it or hate it? And just how bad is Waterworld?

But a recent discovery in the archives of Universal Studios revealed how close we almost came to having another name— or two?— in Hollywood’s somewhat dubious pantheon of the sport. While sorting old personnel files for digitization, archivist Tasha Durak discovered extensive material in the files of now-retired Universal screenwriter Avril Debile related to a project called Sunny Sets Sail. The documents suggest that Debile first got the idea for the story when visiting San Diego in 1991, during preparations for the following year’s America’s Cup competition.

Sunny Sets Sail (some documents use the title Sunny: America’s Pup) was to be a children’s sports comedy in a style common in the 1990s, combining cameos from real pro athletes with the hilarious antics of a fictional group of children— and, naturally, their adorable dog.

The story centered around Hannah, a young Navy brat recently moved to then-contemporary San Diego after spending most of her life overseas. Trying to help her feel more at home, Hannah’s parents give her a Newfoundland puppy named Sunny for her birthday and enroll her in lessons at a local sailing club. When Sunny tags along with Hannah to her first lesson, the instructor reluctantly allows the dog to accompany Hannah and her friends Jenny and Robby, noting the Newfoundland breed’s famous swimming abilities.

As the weeks pass by, Hannah, Jenny, and Robby discover Sunny is a natural crewmate, following commands to shift weight and pull on lines with her mouth. As there is nothing in the sailing club’s rules to prevent canine crew, the three compete in a junior racing series with Sunny onboard, and end up winning.

The prize is presented by Robby’s parents, Frank and June Arnold (apparently based on Peter and JJ Isler), who are both sailors for an American syndicate preparing to defend the America’s Cup. Sunny and the kids are invited to come watch the racing. They meet both the American team and the challengers, the usual sports movie band of villainous rivals, this time wearing an Australian coat of paint. (One draft which badly attempted to write out their dialogue phonetically was rejected by an editor for its potential to cause an international incident, as it sounded closer to a hideous mix of Cockney and Bostonian accents.)

The worst of them, of course, is challenging skipper Charlie “Crusher” Mackenzie, a bleach-blond meathead in sunglasses, introduced stepping on Sunny’s tail during a visit to the American compound and barking “Bloody mutt, I outta throw you overboard to the shahhks!” when she whines.

(Although few concrete references to the history of the America’s Cup are made during the script, Robby’s comment “The Australians. They won once before and they want it back.” seems to indicate a recent history vaguely like the real world’s.)

After Sunny jumps onboard the American IACC boat during a practice session and proves to be as adept at following commands as big boat crew as she did on the kids’ dinghy, Hannah and Robby suggest she become part of the American crew. At first, the skipper says no, but after losing the first two races of the match to the Australians, he relents.

Sunny, in a dog-sized windbreaker and ballcap with earholes, assists the Americans in the Cup match, and performs a traditional Newfoundland rescue when Mr. Arnold falls overboard during a maneuver. (In the first draft, she improbably swims fast enough to bring him back to the racing boat itself, in later drafts she more realistically drags him to a chase boat.)

As we might all hope, there indeed is a protest room scene where a white-haired old yachtsman adjusts his reading glasses, clears his throat, and declares “Nowhere in the America’s Cup Deed of Gift does it state that a dog cannot be part of a racing crew!”, followed, according to stage directions, by “swelling, triumphant music”.

Champagne being not-quite G-rated, the final victory scene features the spraying and guzzling of orange soda, and Sunny being showered with kibble poured out of the America’s Cup.

Avril Debile visited the 1992 and 1995 America’s Cups while researching the script, making connections with most American teams involved. The file contained a transcript of a research interview with the Islers and an educational brochure from the PACT 95 syndicate. Both Dawn Riley and Dennis Conner expressed interest in playing themselves in the film, although Conner wrote to Debile to request more lines.

While the commercial failure of Wind initially caused Universal to doubt the project, eventually Sunny Sets Sail was set for a tentative Summer 1996 release, a year after the America’s Cup, to help keep enthusiasm high for the next edition in San Diego. However, with Team New Zealand’s victory in the 1995 competition, the plot suddenly seemed dated, and production was shelved. A story with the heroes traveling to New Zealand as challengers was judged too complex for young audiences to understand. This was still the pre-Lord-of-the-Rings era in which American knowledge of New Zealand, among both children and adults, was judged to be nil. Avril Debile moved on to other projects, but the only one of note to sailing fans was the similar Tsunami: Extreme Cat. This film, created with input from Cam Lewis, would have covered a cat named Tsunami who stows away aboard a trimaran attempting the Jules Verne Trophy in her owner’s seabag. Although charming and with fewer scenes that strain belief, this script had the misfortune of being submitted to the studio in August 2001, just weeks before the 9/11 attacks changed national concerns. With the 90s extreme sports fad now out of fashion, Tsunami was also cancelled.

It’s easy at a distance of a quarter-century to look on these projects with regret, thinking of how they might have raised the public profile of sailing in the USA. As cheesy and corny as the plots sound— surely if they had been made, “Sunny the dog” and “The Deed of Gift does not forbid dogs!” would be as much of a running joke on Scuttlebutt as “The Whomper”— they could have made the sport of sailing part of the childhood of an entire generation of young people.

Our cold comfort is that it is widely suspected that the scripts for Sunny Sets Sail that were passed around Hollywood in the early-mid 90s could have inspired other films of the era about improbable animal athletes, such as Air Bud, Racing Stripes, and MVP: Most Valuable Primate.

“Avril” is of course French for “April”, and “Débile” means “Stupid” or “Foolish”.

#April Fools #April Fools Day #writing #humor #the seas in arts and culture #America's Cup

5 notes · View notes

sapphicbookclub · 2 years ago

Text

Author Spotlight: Hannah Miyamoto

Hannah Miyamoto is on a mission to stop the spread of fascism in the United States by reminding people of the humanistic values that William Shakespeare spread through his plays. We are thrilled to present this essay about her series of novellas about “The New Countess” (written under the pseudonym “Lady Vanessa S.-G.”), based on the characters in Shakespeare’s gender- crossing romp of Twelfth Night; the first book, Twelve Nights with Viola & Olivia is out now, and second book, If I Should Tell My History, will be released in May. Note: article contains a brief, explicit quote from the book

We do not need to laminate a lesbian presence onto Shakespeare’s texts; once we begin to think historically about desires and practices, we can draw homoerotic meanings out of them… it is less a question of queering the past than of discovering the terms by which the past articulated its own queerness.

Valerie Traub, The Renaissance of Lesbianism in Early Modern England (2003) [https://a.co/d/f8hDruz]

With its pretensions of erudition, the “Western Civilization Movement” is the most dangerous and least-dismissible part of the extremist MAGA white supremacist movement. The goal of “Western Civilization” radicals is clear: Establish that all important cultural contributions are the work of Christian men from Western Europe. For example, Bill Lee, Governor of Tennessee has called for altering public education to encourage “informed patriotism” and combat “anti-American thought,” as if open-minded inquiry were itself an enemy of American democratic values. Former President Trump, Governor Ron DeSantis, and Tucker Carlson are just some of the other prominent neo-fascists attempting to pervert history education.

Properly written, fiction can achieve what history can never do: Explain the thoughts and describe the actions of people that did not dominate past discourses.

By corollary, critical analysis of so-called “Western Civilization” sources is one of the most effective ways to fight the spread of fascism in America. Right-Wing Extremists can ban every book written by a woman, a racial, ethnic, or religious minority person, an LGBTQ person, a foreigner, a socialist, a liberal, a labor leader, an environmentalist, or any other writer to whom they object, but they cannot attack Shakespeare, because even the least cultured American knows that Shakespeare is the epitome of “Western Culture.”

The great beauty of Shakespeare is the depth of the lessons within them. For example, Merchant of Venice reminds us that “the quality of mercy is not strained” while Othello illustrates the evil of racial prejudice. Henry VI, Part 2 relates the importance of lawyers in preserving human rights. Two Gentlemen of Verona and Othello ridicule male chauvinism, while As You Like It suggests that women know more about love than men. At the end of his career, Shakespeare even left us with the starkly existential The Two Noble Kinsmen, in which a wholly sexless heroine accepts marriage rather than seek it.

Seven Shakespeare plays feature cross-dressing, and some of the sweetest depictions of a woman in love with another woman are by Celia in As You Like It and Olivia in Twelfth Night. One British intellectual has gone so far as to dub The Bard “[t]he biggest Liberal campaigner there ever was!”

Knowing that Shakespeare is inviolable in the United States, I have used his work to advance and defend progressive ideals for nearly 20 years. I began in 2004, by writing a play highlighting the love of a woman for a woman to answer calls for banning same-sex marriage. That play, Twelve Nights with Viola & Olivia, merging ideas from minds as diverse as Virginia Woolf and absurdist playwright Luigi Pirandello, became the basis of my Master’s thesis in Women’s Studies.

Two years ago, I created a three-season story arc (24 episodes) for a limited television series based on the characters of Twelfth Night. Starting this year, I started turning what would have been episodes of this television series into a series of novellas.

The first book in this series, adapted from the pilot screenplay, was published last month as Twelve Nights with Viola & Olivia. The second book, If I Should Tell My History, is in production. Overall, the series is entitled “The New Countess.” All these books are written under the pseudonymous “Lady Vanessa S.-G.” to emphasize how recently books like these would have been illegal in Great Britain and the United States, while providing a narrator that can subtly describe events that occurred between the 20th and 16th century, including the writing of William Shakespeare.

Properly written, fiction can achieve what history can never do: Explain the thoughts and describe the actions of people that did not dominate past discourses. For example, “The New Countess” series features an intersexed character named Adriano, one of the first-ever accurate portrayals of an intersexed person in literature. Although intersexed people have always been part of humanity, the earliest account written from the perspective of an intersexed person is the extended suicide note of Herculine Barbin, an intersexed French woman who died in 1868 at age 30. Only fiction can fill this gaping hole in history.

Even the voices of European noblewomen, however richly draped and pampered, have been effectively silenced by being denied access to printing presses. The closet drama writing of Lady Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673), is one of the few documents that reveal how many noblewomen may have felt about how men treated them due to their sex.

Olivia reached down with her right hand to stroke the hairs near Maria’s thighs. Maria shivered and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations that Olivia gave her. Maria pulled away and applied her lips and tongue to Olivia’s pre-maternal breasts as the countess pushed back her head to enjoy the sensations her gentlewoman gave her. Twelve Nights with Viola & Olivia

With her parents and only brother dead, Shakespeare’s Olivia enjoys much more freedom than a typical young woman in 16th century Europe. Curiously, the parents of all the other characters in Twelfth Night are also absent. Although Olivia’s uncle “Sir Toby” is a potential parent in Twelfth Night, Shakespeare emphasizes that Toby is drunk too often for Olivia to rely upon him. Indeed, Countess Olivia acts more like Toby’s mother than he her surrogate father.

“The New Countess” series expands on Olivia’s character, focusing on how she negotiates her way around powerful men to achieve her goals, while keeping secret her love for her bed-chambermaid Maria. Later books will show Olivia working with the men around her to improve the military defenses of her region, to guard against invasion from both land and sea. In these ways, Olivia will fulfill her duties as a countess within her obscure little duchy.

As well as Olivia, Maria, and Adriano, the queer characters in “The New Countess” series include two of Olivia’s female servants, Olivia’s husband Sebastiano, and his best friend Antonio. The two male characters are taken from Shakespeare’s play.

By combining fictional narratives with historical research, “The New Countess” helps to literally write queer and disadvantaged people into history. Keeping with Dr. Valerie Traub, “The New Countess” series does not make Shakespeare’s characters gay, but shows how certain aspects of his stories are more logical if we accept that some of his characters have intense desires for others of their sex.

One charming feature of “The New Countess” series is that its characters live in a world where queerness is described in terms that we can still understand, despite their unfamiliarity: “Tribade,” “Fricatrix,” and “Unnatural Girl,” are some of the terms used for 16th century Sapphists. Poor intersexed Adriano, a feminine man, is publicly denounced as a “Catamite!” or a male prostitute. Meanwhile, gays are “men that would fain have the love of others than women.”

More than history ever can, fiction has the potential power to show how “the past articulated its own queerness,” as well as how people in the past confronted issues of race, religion, and politics much like their counterparts today. Through well-crafted historical fiction like Twelve Nights with Viola & Olivia, we can refute the “Western Civilization” pseudo- intellectuals that would pervert history and literature to accomplish their goals of social repression and cultural destruction. -----

Hannah Miyamoto is a retired attorney managing Pacifico Press, a nonprofit publisher in San Luis Rey, California that produces LGBTQA-focused books and media. Hannah holds a law degree, master’s degrees in Women’s Studies and Sociology, and has been a leading advocate for intersexed people for 25 years. [email protected]

#guest post #wlw books #booklr #lgbt books #sapphic books #diverse books #twelfth night #shakespeare #viola #olivia #intersex #lesbian

33 notes · View notes

sebsxphia · 1 year ago

Note

Jeebus Lord, Sebbie, that governor!rhett thot!!!! I AM NOT WORTHY!!!! I AM NOT WORTHY!!!!! (lol).

I know it's not the smuttiest thought in the world but I was reading about what Teddy Roosevelt's family was like when they lived in the White House in the early 1900s and can totally see the similarities between that and when Rhett becomes governor of Wyoming (if you ever want I'd totally be down to give a free history lesson, literally anything, it's what I majored in at my uni here in the states, lol).

Your kids are always bringing stray animals into the governor's mansion. Your youngest daughter literally woke up one day and wandered into Rhett's office while he was meeting with two of his cabinet members and was like "Daddy look a kitty!!" It was the black cat that somehow found her way to the front steps and when she took to Rhett, she'd curl up in his lap during meetings and he'd pretend to be the bad guy from James Bond (lol).

As soon as Rhett took office, you and him took immediate custody of Amy when she was born. There was no fucking way that Rhett was gonna allow his low-life brother to raise that baby and as she grew up, the newspapers called her "Princess Amy" because technically she was the oldest child in the family.

Oh but when your boys put in appearance, they too were always sneaking animals into the governor's mansion. One day a really nasty land developer had come to try and bargain with him about some land close to Wabang, but Rhett was having absolutely none of it. Tatum and Tanner snuck their pet bullfrog into her purse and she ran out of the place screaming. Needless to say and much to Rhett's relief, the land deal was off the table. Their frog was ok but the poor thing ended up peeing out of fright when Tatum put him back on his little rock in the garden pond.

Alot of your down time is spent traipsing about the woods, camping, horseback riding and such. The one photo of you that Rhett keeps framed in his office at all times is one that was taken by Joy and Martha (Joy ended up becoming police commissioner for the state of Wyoming). It was a photo of all of you on horseback, Rhett in front, you behind and Amy, your daughter, Hannah, Tatum, Tanner, Kaya and your last set of twins, Harvey and Frankie, all on horseback while Dallas (your youngest baby who you adopted) is strapped to Rhett's back and your all riding in a line through the river.

Sebbie, I could go on for hours about this, but there's too much to pack into one blurb (lol).

aaah yes! i’m so pleased to hear you enjoyed the governor rhett abbott thoughts! and i loveeee this so much too! 🥹 i think, regardless of the au or concept, rhett having feral children with you absoutely is a common theme.

oh what i would give to go horseback riding with governor abbott and our kiddos 🥹💌

#💌you’ve got mail #auroralightsthesky <33 #rhett abbott #governor!rhett abbott

15 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 10 months ago

Text

Two of the most iconic thinkers of the twentieth century, Hannah Arendt (1906–1975) and Isaiah Berlin (1909–1997) fundamentally disagreed on central issues in politics, history and philosophy. In spite of their overlapping lives and experiences as Jewish émigré intellectuals, Berlin disliked Arendt intensely, saying that she represented “everything that I detest most,” while Arendt met Berlin’s hostility with indifference and suspicion. Written in a lively style, and filled with drama, tragedy and passion, Hannah Arendt and Isaiah Berlin tells, for the first time, the full story of the fraught relationship between these towering figures, and shows how their profoundly different views continue to offer important lessons for political thought today.

Drawing on a wealth of new archival material, Kei Hiruta traces the Arendt–Berlin conflict, from their first meeting in wartime New York through their widening intellectual chasm during the 1950s, the controversy over Arendt’s 1963 book Eichmann in Jerusalem, their final missed opportunity to engage with each other at a 1967 conference and Berlin’s continuing animosity toward Arendt after her death. Hiruta blends political philosophy and intellectual history to examine key issues that simultaneously connected and divided Arendt and Berlin, including the nature of totalitarianism, evil and the Holocaust, human agency and moral responsibility, Zionism, American democracy, British imperialism and the Hungarian Revolution. But, most of all, Arendt and Berlin disagreed over a question that goes to the heart of the human condition: what does it mean to be free?

2 notes · View notes

hanban371213 · 5 months ago

Text

hello hannah nation, finaly the end of the second to last book! context in the first post, find it through the first tag, have fun!

Book 8 - Portugal and the world, from the Second World War to the start of the 80s - internal options and international context.

Part 2 - Portugal, from Authoritarianism to Democracy

The end of the Second World War was seen as a "victory against fascism", also made Salazar have to, at the very least in apearence, "democratize" the country. The government was dissolved, opposition was allowed to form(the MUD - Movimento de Unidade Democrática), and elections were announced. However, these elections end up being a total farce. The MUD removes their candidacy, and their members are captured and repressed.

Afterwards in the presidential elections the people rally around the candidate Norton de Matos, but he was severely repressed and ended up giving up. The Democratic Oposition fragmented and weakened as time passed, until 1958 with the candidacy of Humberto Delgado, known as the "fearless general", due to his strong position as the one who's not gonna give up from the elections, and for publicly declaring that he would "obviously fire Salazar" once in charge. He created a massive popular mobilization around him, but when the results came he lost with only 25% of the votes. Américo Tomás won and the election system was abolished. But, the results of were put in doubt and the regime lost a lot of credibility, and in the following years the Democratic Oposition only increased in strength.

Economicaly the country was in stagnation. There was a huge lack of infraestructure, farms in the North were too small to mecanize, farms in the South were way too big and wasted, and most farmers lived in total poverty. This led to a lot of emigration, from the rural interior to the coast, but mainly outside of the country, mostly illegaly.

Salazar was forced to rethink his anti-industry policies, and allowed some limited industrialization, but with the sole purpose of replacing imports. The country integrated in the Marshall Plan and elaborated Fomentation Plans, and as such the coastal regions urbanized. This city growth led to a cosmopolitan style of life and aproximation of the country to European standards.

As the old colonial powers decolonized, Portugal remained stubborn, declaring that their colonies were actualy just "overseas provinces". This eventualy led to the colonies revolting, starting the colonial war, which alongside the increased number of ex-colonial nations in the UN, and the hostility of the unitedstatian administration, led to the country becoming even more isolated.

In 1968, Marcello Caetano replaces Salazar, and considering his frequent and periodic oposition to Salazar's ideals while in government gave a sign of hope to the Democratic Oposition. However, in the next elections the União Nacional(party of the Estado Novo) wins 100% of the seats, and increases it's repression on the opposition, showing that Nothing Has Changed. Another topic in which nothing changed was the colonial war, that Marcello Caetano insisted in continuing.

All of this only increased the internal and external oposition to the regime. Internaly: maoists groups, catholics, pastor D. António Ribeiro, the III congress of the Democratic Oposition, the army, specificaly general António de Spínola. Externaly: the Pope Paulo VI, the UN, protests in London during Marcello's visit.

The colonial war led to a lot of unhappiness in the army, who formed the Movimento das Forças Armadas(MFA), who planned a coup. In the 25th of April 1974, the end-of-regime operation begins. After the siege at the Quartel do Carmo, Marcello Caetano surrenders to general Spínola. The Junta de Salvação Nacional is created, that dismanteled the structure of the Estado Novo, and promissed to begin elections one year from then.

Immediatly after the fall of the Estado Novo, known as the "pre-constitutional period", Portugal lived in extreme instability, with the Provisional Governments progressively turning more to the left, with Vasco Gonçalves, associate of the PCP(Portuguese Communist Party) in charge of the Provisional Governments. General Spínola tried to stop this with a coup, but it fails, and in response the government radicalises even more, and creates the Council of the Revolution. The country undergoes multiple nationalizations and massive colectivization, and the African colonies are let go with no concessions. With a lot of pressure from the Socialist Party, the promissed elections take place, on the 25th of April 1975. The far-left loses, but they refuse to leave the government, during a period known as "hot summer", until one final coup on the 25th of November. The new Constitutional Assembly works on elaborating a new constitution, but due to the chaotic and radical conditions they were going through, they signed the MFA-Parties Treaty, that guaranteed the persevation of the revoltionary achievements in the new constitution (such as the nationalizations and the Council of the Revolution). The new constitution enters into effect on the 25th of April 1976.

As time passed, the country underwent multiple constitutional revisions, to democratize the country, and better integrate with the rest of Europe.

0 notes

themculibrary · 2 years ago

Text

Hurt/Comfort Masterlist 2

Links Last Checked: May 20th, 2024

part one

5 Times Ned Gave Peter His Sweatshirt (ao3) - red_to_black ned/peter T, 6k

Summary: Five times Ned Leeds gave Peter his sweatshirt, and one time Peter returned the favour.

(AKA Ned is a dork in love and Peter's a mess but someone has to take care of him. That someone is Ned.)

AKA the Greater New York PTSD Support Group (ao3) - triedunture bucky/steve/sam E, 12k

Summary: They’ve successfully completed what might be the most dangerous mission in history: the recovery of the Winter Soldier.

Now comes the recovery of Bucky Barnes, which is turning out to be even more difficult.

A story about Bucky coming back to the surface with the help of Steve, Sam, pancakes, video games, the city of New York, assorted Avengers, and beds that–really, let’s be honest here–are too soft to sleep on.

A Marriage of Inconvenience (ao3) - WhinyWingedWinchester loki/tony, natasha/thor, odin/frigga M, 80k

Summary: Forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Loki of Aysgarth, Tony knows that he is not the ideal husband to the son of a king, but he still hopes that he might find true love with his husband like the stories he loves to read of adventures and happily-ever-afters.

Prince Loki, however, does not wish to be married, and he makes this clear to Tony even after their vows have been said before the priest. Life is no better for Tony in Castle Aysgarth than it was back in Iron Reach - he is as unwanted by Loki as he was by his father.

But slowly, things change. There is a steadily growing affection between them, something that might, perhaps, grow into more and Tony can only hope his love for Loki might one day be returned.

But then an assassin strikes unexpectedly, pirates attack, and Tony very well might be living an adventure from one of his books, but it looks like happily-ever-after might be too much to hope for.

At The End Of All Things (ao3) - It-is-the-Hannah (carry_on_my_wayward_outcasts) pepper/tony T, 32k

Summary: In which Peter survives the snap, and that changes everything.

Bend Around the Wind (ao3) - Scyllaya loki/tony E, 403k

Summary: A few months after the battle of New York the God Loki appears back on Stark Tower under chaotic circumstances. This time however he is on the run. Tony Stark gets caught up in the crossfire and is taken along with the Aesir. Can the two of them ever make truce in order to get away? And even if they do, how does one escape from such a dark corner of the universe, when they are so very far away from the Nine Realms, that not even Loki knows the way back home. But first, they need to survive.

Be Still My Foolish Heart (Don’t Ruin This On Me) (ao3) - thiccbuckybarnes steve/bucky E, 15k

Summary: Bucky Barnes ends up at a house party that he really shouldn’t be at on a Saturday night.

– Or, the super angsty high school au I’ve always wanted.

Branded (ao3) - KandiSheek bucky/steve/tony M, 40k

Summary: Every child is born with two marks, one from their mother and one from their father. They say that each mark represents a lesson your soulmates will teach you, that you can gain more and more as you go through life.

Tony was born with four. They said he was destined for greatness. If this is what greatness looks like then Tony doesn’t want it.

Build you up, while fixing myself too (ao3) - marvels_blue_phoenix T, 3k

Summary: Clint let the visions of his nightmare slip away as he sat with the teen until he was done before helping him shakily get to his feet, flushing the toilet before helping Peter swill his mouth out and brush his teeth. As they turned to walk out the door Peter’s knees went weak, Clint held him and slowly lowered him to the floor feeling his heart break as Peter curled around his arm. The man held the shaking teen close to his chest. ~ After the fiasco with Mysterio, Peter is broken. Clint is there to help the kid and promises to build him back up

Bullying (ao3) - xMarrrvelx steve/tony T, 4k

Summary: Steve finds out that Tony has been a victim of bullying for ages…so, naturally, he wants to help.

catching feelings (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor clint/steve, bucky/clint/steve N/R, 3k

Summary: Clint thought that he would be okay when Bucky came back, and he and Steve started spending more time together, because he understood that Bucky was Steve's best friend from the past. Then, the two started getting closer and Clint feels left out, and worries that Steve will leave him to be with Bucky, so he starts distancing himself from his boyfriend to avoid conflict.

Five Times Clint Saw His Teammates, and One Time They Saw Him (ao3) - rohanrider3 clint/natasha T, 15k

Summary: Everyone runs on something. Clint is better than most at seeing at what that is.

And people–especially the Avengers–are full of surprises.

Or, don’t underestimate the “least powerful” team member just because he fights evil with snark and a weapon from the paleolithic era.

Like an Arrow Through a Flock of Doves (ao3) - arsenicarcher (Arsenic), hoosierbitch clint/phil E, 63k

Summary: When he takes the rap for a crime committed by Barney and the Swordsman, Clint is charged as an adult at 17 and spends the next four years of his life without protection in prison. Enter one Neal Caffrey, who knows how to charm his way to whatever he wants or needs, and Clint’s life gets a lot more interesting. Pretty much, the story of Clint in prison, Clint getting out, and Clint, like always, finding his way to SHIELD, and Phil.

Managing (ao3) - ImBadWithWords T, 5k

Summary: Peter Parker is a mess. Clint Barton is too, but that doesn't mean he won't try to help.

me and you +1 (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor steve/tony N/R, 4k

Summary: Steve discovers that he's pregnant after the events of Civil War, but he doesn't get a chance to tell Tony because Team Cap is currently in hiding, and Steve can't risk calling Tony and getting the others in trouble. Steve is trying to get through the pregnancy, but it's hard when he doesn't have Tony around. He's grateful for Natasha and Sam's support, but it's not the same.

Out Of The Void (ao3) - Lynds loki/tony E, 43k

Summary: Tony goes to help out with the Battle of Greenwich and ends up stuck on Svartalfheim with a half-dead Loki. He’s tempted (very tempted) to leave him there, but the screams are kinda getting to him. He takes him home and patches him up…and then realises that there’s way more to the Trickster than meets the eye.

Pineapple Pizza and how it Saved Peter’s Life (ao3) - Ficbunny T, 8k

Summary: Peter’s being bullied. That’s definitely a problem that Tony will be confronting someone about, but is there more going on?

Publicity Parent (ao3) - Bowtiez G, 36k

Summary: Tony's losing his credit with the public. Pepper's got a plan to fix it.

Enter Peter Parker, eight-year-old orphan from Queens, New York.

Tony has no idea how children work, so why is he so drawn to little Peter Parker?

Spider-man vs. The Avengers (ao3) - flashbulb_garden G, 28k

Summary: Nick Fury and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D find out that Tony Stark has a powerful weapon that he made before becoming the Iron Man. Tony refuses to give it over to S.H.I.E.L.D, so seeing no other option they decide to steal it. And the only way to find the weapon is by capturing the 15 year old Spider-Man and convincing him to tell them where it’s hidden. The other Avengers are sent out to find and kidnap Peter Parker, before deciding to save him.

Stolen Relics (ao3) - Kadorienne loki/tony T, 79k

Summary: The only way the Avengers can save Loki from Odin’s torture chamber is to invite him back to Midgard to fight alongside them.

The Evidence (ao3) - StrivingArtist bucky/tony T, 16k

Summary: Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Fuck it.

He knew they noticed.

And he knew they liked him better this way.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #masterlists #hurtcomfort #hurtcomfort masterlist #comfort

7 notes · View notes

arwainian · 1 year ago

Text

Reading This Week 2023 #40

Started and Finished:

62 fatt fics for the marathon

various zines from the massachusetts independent comics expo:

A*R*T CRITIC by Giles Crawford May 3rd, 1996 by Giles Crawford New York City, words by They Might Be Giants, art by Giles Crawford Basilisk by Erin Roseberry

The City of God, Book XXII by Augustine, translated by Marcus Dods

"Those Who Cannot See the Whole Are Offended by the Apparent Deformity of a Part": Disability in Augustine's City of God by Alexander Massmann

Chapter 4 of Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity: "A Nightmare Silhouette: Racialization and the Long Exposure of Transition" by C. Riley Snorton

The Rediscovered Life of St. Francis of Assisi by Thomas of Celano, translated by Timothy J. Johnson

"Biocultures: An Emerging Paradigm" by Jay Clayton, Lennard J. Davis, Jonathan M Metsl, Priscilla Ward, and Bernice L. Hausman

"Kinesthetic Empathy, Physical Recoil: The Conflicting Embodied Affects of Samuel Beckett's Quad" by Hannah Simpson

"Border Crossing by Hearing Children of Deaf Parents: The Lost History of Codas" by Robert Hoffmeister in Open Your Eyes: Deaf Studies Talking

"An Intimate History of Slavery and Freedom" from Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiment by Saidiya Hartman

"Two Erotic Lessons I Learned from My Mother (and Other Women Who Nourished Me)" by Shoniqua Roach

"The Black Living Room" by Shoniqua Roach

Select poem from Ibn Arabi, Giacomo De Lentini, & Guittone d'Arezzo, as well as "Song of Creatures" by San Francesco

"Metaphor as Experimental Medicine" from Blindness and Therapy in Late Medieval French and Italian Poetry by Julie Singer

Ongoing:

Vanishing Rooms by Melvin Dixon

#cal reading log #arwainian princessoid decrees

3 notes · View notes

fandomsaligninstories · 11 months ago

Text

Year One: Day Three

Chapter List WC: 1,811

3rd September, 1991, Late Afternoon

"You have got to be kidding me!" Violet grumbled to her friends Hannah and Aimee.

They were entering their second to last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Violet had been excited for it, having started her readings for the upcoming lesson during her free period that morning, but the second she stepped into the room and saw students in the familiar green-and-silver colours, she wanted to ditch. D.A.D.A would make the third class they shared together, including History of Magic and Astronomy.

"It'll be fine," Hannah tried to reassure, "We'll just avoid them, right? Can't cause trouble if they don't exist to us."

"Right!" Aimee agreed, pulling Violet by her arm to the only empty desk in the middle of the room. They pointedly ignored the white-blonde boy a few tables away, who was staring at Violet. He'd been doing that ever since she'd apologised. In the Great Hall, in passing in hallways, anytime they pass each other, he'll be staring at her.

It was uncomfortable at first, because she wasn't sure if it meant he was going to try something to hurt her, or if he was just that awkward. Having spoken to some of the older Hogwarts students, Violet had learned that the Malfoy's weren't the type of people you treat kindly. You stay away from them, and if you interact, you keep your mouth shut. So, Violet decided, Draco must not be used to being treated kindly, which meant she would need to be nothing but nice to him in any future interactions.

D.A.D.A was taught by Professor Quirrell. The position had been cursed, according to a fourth-year Ravenclaw, so every year there was a new D.A.D.A professor. The curse caused the professor to either die or leave at the end of each year, which made it hard for Dumbledore to keep the position filled.

As expected, the first lesson was just an introductory one, and started in on their first topic: werewolves. Though Herbology would remain her favourite subject, D.A.D.A would definitely be a close second.

Most of the other students had already left by the time Violet and her two friends packed away their belongings. As expected, Draco and his friends were standing at the door, harassing the kids leaving. Unexpectedly, however, when he looked up and saw Violet coming towards him, he tilted his head down slightly and let the girls leave unscathed.

On the way to dinner, she couldn't help but wonder what that was about. Evidently, her friends felt the same way.

"What did you do to him?" Hannah asked, glancing behind them towards the boys.

Violet shrugged, "Nothing! I just apologised. Weird, right?"

"Very odd." Aimee agreed, "Maybe you're just the first person to ever show him kindness. I hear his family is awful. Full of You-Know-Whos most loyal subjects."

There was that name again, You-Know-Who. The man who had tried to kill baby Harry, and had killed his parents. After her first night at Hogwarts, Violet got tired of hearing people talk about Harry and not understanding what the big deal was, so she asked. And she'd gotten the full, terrible story. She finally understood why they called him "The Boy Who Lived", and how he got the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

"Scary, that lot. Malfoy is bound to follow in their footsteps. There's rumours, you know. That he's back..." Hannah whispered conspiratorially.

Aimee huffed at her friend, "Don't start with that again! He's dead. People are just saying that to scare you."

"Well, it's working!" Hannah urged. Violet nodded. In her little bit of free time over the past few days, she'd done plenty of reading on the Wizarding War. What it was, why it happened, and how many people died. It was awful, and she pitied the students she'd met that had lost family members in the war. She couldn't imagine ever being able to survive such a thing.

By the time dinner was finished, Violet was exhausted again. A nightly occurrence, she noticed, with all of her lessons and coursework she'd been given in just those first days. But she had one more class to attend, Charms with the Ravenclaws. Not the most riveting subject, but not as dreadful as History of Magic.

As she was entering the classroom, she noticed a boy a ways down the hallway waving. She paused a moment, looking around her to see if he was waving at someone else, but no one else was paying attention. When she looked back at him, he was moving towards her. She realised it was the second-year that had stopped her from attacking Draco the other day, Eddie something-or-other.

"Hi, Violet!" He smiled, leaning on his shoulder against the wall, "Alright? How's Hogwarts treating you?"

She smiled back, "Hi Eddie. Yeah, alright. Been busy, but it's been exciting! This is a whole new world for me, you know."

"Ah, muggle born, were you? My father's a muggle, but my mother's a witch, so I knew what to expect. I couldn't imagine coming into this without any clue what to expect!" He laughed warmly, his eyes focused only on her.

"Yeah, it's been something." She turned as the bell started to chime, alerting her to the start of class, "I've gotta go, see you later!" She waved as she rushed into the room, finding the empty seat beside Aimee.

━━━━━━⊱༻ ༺⊰━━━━━━

By Friday evening, Violet was ready to drop. The most frustrating thing about the entire school, aside from the sheer size of it, was that her schedule wasn't consistent. Every day was different, with different classes at different times. The only thing that kept her relatively sane was that it would always remain the same week to week, and that she had her friends with her. She'd be carrying around a copy of her timetable for at least a few weeks before she would be able to memorise it.

Luckily she had three free periods on Fridays, with her last class ending by 4pm, leaving her with plenty of time to get started on the piles of homework she'd already been given.

She arrived to dinner late, having been caught up in the potions paper she was working on. Most students had already finished the meal and left for the evening, turning in to work on their own homework or hang out with friends. She was disappointed to see none of her friends remained, the tables clear except for a few students at each.

Most of the plates and platters had already been cleared away by whatever magic the house-elves used. She made a mental note to look into that later, she was rather curious how the food knew where to appear. Actually, she decided, she'd ask Hermione. That girl seemed to know everything.

She was picking at her meal when a shadow moved to loom over her. She turned her head slightly to see who it was. She nearly choked on the food she was chewing.

"M- Malfoy?" She coughed, clearing her throat with some water, "What do you want?"

"Why'd you do it?" He asked roughly.

She turned to face him fully, looking at him confused, "Do what?"

"Apologise!" He hissed, eyes darting around the room before repeating, "Why'd you do it?"

"It was the right thing to do?" She hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but she was thoroughly confused. This wasn't the boy so many people had warned her about; he was being strangely open and vulnerable. She continued, "It's not right to hurt other people just because you're hurting. I was hurting, because you hurt my friend, but I shouldn't have retaliated. It wasn't right. You might be a prat, Draco, but you deserve some human decency."

His eyes widened before he scowled at her, "Well, don't do it again. Just stay away from me, freak!"

He rushed off before she could form a reply. 'You came to me,' she wanted to shout. Instead she silently turned and finished her dinner, dragging herself back to her dorm for the night.

It was nearing 8pm when she entered the common room, but being as there weren't any classes the next day, many students were hanging out.

She dropped down onto a couch beside Cedric, who was listening to Tamsin tell a dramatic story about a previous quidditch game the Hufflepuffs had competed in. Anthony and Cedric were shaking their heads at her obviously overdramatized story, but Aimee, Hannah, Caroline, and Susan were all listening attentively.

"Hey," Cedric whispered, looking at Violet with concern, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just had a run in with Malfoy." She whispered back, rushing on at his even more concerned expression, "Oh no, it wasn't anything bad, he was just being a drama queen."

"Okay. Let me know if he gives you any more trouble, I'll have a talk with him." He nudged her with his elbow, smirking. She held back her laughter, knowing full well there wasn't a single thing Cedric could say to stop Draco.

"Thanks." She curled up on the couch, turning her attention back to Tamsin, who was still going on about quidditch. Violet didn't understand the love of the game, in fact she found it a bit boring. She soon started to doze off, so she bid her friends a good night before heading to bed.

Despite her exhaustion, she found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning under the covers for what felt like hours, but was only a matter of minutes. Finally she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, looking down at the purple quilt spread out on the bed. She blinked back the sudden rush of tears, the homesickness she'd been feeling the last few days overwhelming.

She missed her parents. She missed her room, with its lilac purple walls and pink rugs. She missed her friends from down the street, her teachers at school. She even missed the neighbours dogs that she'd often go over and play with.

She knew she would miss them when she left, but she had expected to be able to talk to them whenever she felt like it. So call her mother when she was sad, or to tell her father a funny story that had happened that day. But, as she had learned, there was no electricity or technology at Hogwarts. Someone had tried to explain it to her when she asked where a telephone was, but the only thing she got out of it was that the magic surrounding Hogwarts was so great that any technology went haywire if it got too close. She'd been told she could write letters home, but she had yet to find the owlery to send one.

Tomorrow, she told herself, reaching out for that small teddy and clutching it to her chest, crawling back under the covers. Tomorrow she'd write her parents a letter, and she'd find the owlery to send it.

7 notes · View notes