#and you realize that in doing this youre forcing your more marginalized students to become educators right?? youre forcing us to teach

[amber-angel]

If I get one more comment on this discussion board telling me I'm brave or strong for being deaf I'm tearing into the professor for making this stupid fucking assignment

[sanyu-choi]

I have never transcribed a video before, but this one feels too important not to.

Transcript:

"Hi, I have a degree in political science with a concentration in politics of different regions of the world, but I don't need these credentials to be able to explain to you why saying "both parties are bad" in this election in particular is wild.

Full disclosure, I was like a C student, I spent most of my time doing Theatre Club at the Air Force Academy - as you can see, I followed my bliss.

And listen, to preface, I've already told you about my experience in the military (for context, she has separate videos about her time in the military under Trump), I told you about how the climate in the military changed once the Tangerine was elected - such as the trans ban, such as getting rid of diversity and inclusion, such as the number of members from certain types of groups joining the military increasing, and that y'all should care about how it impacted the military - whether you like the military or not - as it is a group of American citizens that the president has direct control over. It is a preview of what he would do if he had direct control over the civilian population.

And for accounting my experiences and giving all of these facts as to why it would be dangerous to let this guy back into the White House again, some of the DMs I received were spicy.

Some person in particular called me a house slave.

They were not black.

I'll leave you to that.

And, uh, that person was not right wing either.

Very interesting to see what people have become comfortable with saying to us lately, and I'm a little heated, my hand is shaking cause I just read a little piece of Project 2025. So let's get into it.

Also, if you have anything to say about me being a black veteran, a former military member- I got something for that ass and I will embarrass you. Don't do it to yourself.

Okay, "Both parties are bad! Both parties are bad!" So I'm a political scientist, I understand. I realize that both main parties pander to marginalized groups, usually as a tool to get elected and nothing more. I know that candidates from both prominent parties very often make promises during their campaign that they don't end up keeping in their term. In the past elections people have used this as an excuse to stay home and not fucking vote.

Here I would like to introduce a term that I learned in dialectical behavioral therapy called Radical Acceptance. Radical Acceptance means observing the facts, examining your feelings about it, and realizing that you have to make choices based on how things actually are, not how you wish it were right now. It doesn't mean lying down and giving up on a different or better solution - it means you're gonna have to do the best that you can do right now.

In a given election you are never going to get to choose between Superman and Lex Luthor. The nature of politics is grimy. Even if a viable third party just rose out of the ground at some point, it will also never be delivering you your picture-perfect-morally-pure candidate.

I've been seeing a lot of content over the last few months about how a lot of far left rhetoric mirrors evangelical Christianity. I feel like this is kind of an example. Your Messiah is not coming. Sometimes you're going to have to choose between Lex Luthor and the Joker. If those are the only two viable options, guess who I'm voting for. Lex Luthor may be corrupt, but the Joker blows up hospitals.

Also hot take - given that the nature of politics is grimy and dirty; given that the United States of America has accumulated a lot of sins over the course of its existence; given that the nature of geopolitics is complicated and we are living in a world that is basically held together by the promise of mutually assured destruction to its several nuclear powerhouses, each having the ability to clap this planet's cheeks with a push of a button - it's not exactly an environment where one country can just go and unfriend another country on Facebook and just block and mute on TikTok - given all of that, Kamala is actually a decent candidate. You don't have to like that, you don't have to like her, but that resume is pretty strong for this job application - including the part where she is the sitting vice president.

By the way, this is not candidate worship, by the way. We really need to do something about the collective brain rot that has made people somehow unable to understand the concept of nuance- a word that makes me lose 10 brain cells every time I have to say it on this app, cause people love to engage in bad faith. Perhaps y'all have just become accustomed to seeing how the members of the Tangerine Club act; now you think that it's that or nothing at all.

You are allowed to be excited about a candidate. You are allowed to support a candidate and also be a little skeptical and also hold them accountable. Oh, you're allowed to have expectations of them and then when they get into office and if they don't meet those expectations, you're allowed to be disappointed. Showing support for a candidate does not mean that you have now joined a Scientology-like cult that you just can't get out of. You're allowed to change your thoughts on things as time goes by as you get new information. That's how people that voted for the Tangerine last time are gonna vote for Kamala this time. You know how that works?

Oh it's comical to me when people come into my comment sections about videos that have, actually, nothing to do with politics and they'll be like, "oh you voted for Biden, you voted for Biden! How's that going now, how's that going now? Do you regret it, do you regret it?"

No.

No. Me voting for Biden did not automatically anoint him as Jesus Christ, just that I had to choose between him - who had been the vice president of the United States before - and the guy that literally threw our country into a trash fire for four years and is a criminal and a predator. Yeah, that was an obvious choice for me.

Even though identity politics have not been part of her campaign, she has laid out her policies pretty clearly, but y'all are gonna say identity politics anyway because a black person- a black woman existing in any other context that a- any other kind of person exist can, just, automatically be seen as political. As a black woman, I'm allowed to be excited about the prospect of the first black woman President of the United States.

When Obama got elected, I was a teenager and I was being raised by a conservative, black, self-hating father who was a preliminary member of the Tangerine club - I was not allowed to be excited about that. It was not safe in my father's house to be excited about that. And his reasoning was actually, comically, the same as a lot of far leftist reasoning, that "it's not enough to just put a black person in there if he's not a good president, then it just doesn't count, it just doesn't count. If it's not perfect, then it's not really progress." Yet it's a standard that no construction paper colored man has ever been held to in pursuing this office. Another mirroring of toxic evangelical Christianity - moral purity.

You can hold space for both skepticism and excitement. You say you stand for progress, but then you turn around and do exactly what the far right does - hold people of color to an impossibly higher standard.

I'm gonna hold space for both skepticism and excitement and I'm going to allow myself to be excited about this - no one's taking that away from me again.

Dad if you can hear me from down there, I hope that just gave you heartburn.

"Oh both parties are bad!" I'm so glad that we still live in a reality where a qualified black woman can be considered as an equal choice to an unqualified Tangerine - but originally construction paper colored - predator, felon, treasonous orange, with no qualifications for the job, but alas he was given the job before anyways - because construction paper colored men - and sucked at it.

And y'all were all there.

The repeal of Roe v Wade, Covid- we were all there, we all saw the same things, did we not? He has literally laid out every terrible thing he wants to do if you allow him to have this job again. And some of y'all are really like 'mwemeh.'

Some of you may be too young to remember when it was actually sane to be able to say "oh both parties are bad" in an election. The impact that this guy has had over politics over the last few years - We are in distress!

This is a code red - Do you understand that? We don't have time for this.

During the Obama and McCain race, obviously those who were left leaning - "oh you want Obama, you want Obama, right?" - But no one was talking about leaving the country if McCain won!

You get what I'm trying to say here?

Pessimism is not only annoying- it is not productive. It is dramatic and unfruitful.

"Voting doesn't work anyway" - voting doesn't work as quickly as you would like it to. It's something that you have to continue to do over time to affect change, you have to have a consistency.

If voting doesn't do anything, well I guess that our ancestors who fought and died for us to have that right just died for nothing, right?

Okay!

Last point - if all of this seems a little too 'kaka!' to you, let me submit to you this: the United States is the biggest military power in the world. It is a lethal weapon, a missile, a bazooka. Whether you decide to get your ass off that couch and participate in November or not - that bazooka is going to be handed to somebody in January. Like it or not, there are only two actual options of people to hold that bazooka. Who do you want holding that bazooka? Hmm?

Keep in mind that one of those people wants it to be an option to be able to turn that bazooka onto us.

I just can't stop thinking about the things that black women have been called over the past few weeks. I can't stop thinking about somebody calling me a house slave. How, pray tell, do you expect to be able to keep on bullying black women into being beasts of burden for every single one of your social justice issues if we have less rights of Protection than we already do now?

Food for thought."

We don’t have time for “both parties are bad” this time - Nicque Marina

You can't build a better country or world, solar punk or otherwise if you don't have the freedom to do so. Citizens of the United States of America are responsible for the impact our policies have on the world. The previous Republican administration dismantled the government organization focused on dealing with pandemics and then COVID spread and killed so many world-wide. That is just one of millions of reasons to vote against the Republicans. It's easier to focus on mutual aid and community gardens when we aren't living with long COVID and burying our family and neighbors. Vote blue 🔵 and buy humanity a little time.

[omiyagiri]

what's mine is not yours | part 1

pairing: Sakusa x f!Reader cw: swearing word count: 3.1k (and growing. each new update will be its own post) part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 forthcoming

summary: Usually you have your life together. Usually. This has always gone uncontested. Nothing happens without you knowing, it's all part of the big plan. But then university hits. An unpredictable roommate, awkward social occurrences, and eccentric peers. It all comes to a head when the one stable, constant thing in your life—your seat in class—is stolen by a student with curly black hair and a perennially glowering stare.

tldr; You, unfortunate reader, realize you do not have your life together and it only takes the appearance of Kiyoomi Sakusa and your forced partnership with him on a project to realize how unprepared you really are and have always been.

a/n: will be written in parts. probably hitting 15k at max.

You keep chronic tabs on your life. As in, everything stays in its designated slot; there's no spillover, no runoff. There's a routine, a rhythm, and if there's a disruption it takes you three momentous lung refills to become marginally less angry. This has made your university life a turbulent one.

Ever since elementary school you had it all planned out—Actually, no. Ever since the womb you had it planned out. Meticulous note-taking on which academic pursuit best complemented your interests, the spread of classes per semester which would guarantee the speediest graduation date. It was all. Planned out.

Yet you didn't account for the people you'd meet along the way. You weren't prepared for the roadblock in the form of your roommate barring entry into your own fucking dorm at midnight because she's too busy sucking face with an alumni she's starry-eyed for. You didn't account for the instances of being ragdolled to social outings—Which by the way, were an excuse for peers to copy off your homework.

Yeah. It turns out you were grossly underprepared. So it's when you're wiping the remnants of sleep from your eyes as you walk through the classroom doorway that you see your seat—Your seat was stolen. As in: A seat that is yours. You claimed it. It's yours. You've sat in it all semester. You have cried literal tears in that seat from test fatigue, from stress fatigue, from anxiety fatigue. Fatigue.

The chair that has supported you in more ways than one has someone else sitting in it.

Immediately your world comes crashing down into a fiery column of mundane complications gone wrong. Fuck! "Fuck." Shitting hell. "Goddammit."

Your teeth are glued together with your tongue wedged between them. A habit of self-destruction. You were about to chew off your own tongue from anger. Fuck. The professor straggles in behind you and clears his throat. It makes that disgusting rattle-chain of phlegm noise.

You move from him and steal the seat next to what is your seat, purposefully shouldering off your backpack and letting its textbook-laden body punch against the ground.

The man in your seat turns to give you a lidded glare. Even has the audacity to scoot away from you and wedge his face mask further up the incline of his nose. A part of you wants desperately to spite him and inch your chair closer, but you weren't petty enough. Unfortunate. Returning his reproachful gaze was enough for now.

You both put aside your differences for the lecture, clearing a workspace for notes. It's here you notice one of several things. Your current seat does not adjust. There's no knob you can twirl, no button, nothing, nada. Your feet are suspended an inch off the ground, and your thighs are adhering to the underside of the table.

Second, it squeaks. So much. Any minute movement instigated a cacophony of orchestral chair noises. Holy shit. The pen in your fingers threatens to shatter.

Time oozes. You linger in a mental limbo, not quite disassociating but also not quite there. Autopilot is most apt. Awake and alive enough to take notes verbatim, but dead and dying inside enough to mourn the loss of your chair for an hour and twenty minutes straight. The professor turns off the projector and dismisses the class.

You're about to jerk out of your chair and force feed your notebook into the mouth of your backpack when the chair stealer speaks.

"Partnerless?"

The word doesn't register. It doesn't sound like a word. Your brain, still in autopilot, manages to force some semblance of response out of your mouth. "I'm single and not looking to date."

His brow bunches into a wrinkly mass of skin and his eyes squint at you, roving up and down like he's second guessing all life choices that brought him here.

"No," he says, "I mean you don't have a partner for the project."

Oh. Ah. You see. Wait. Project? You rip open your notebook and examine the red ink hemorrhaging across one of its pages. There, in all capital letters to indicate a high priority assignment, was: PROJECT. DUE ON SEVENTEENTH. ACQUIRE PARTNER. []

"Crap," you say eloquently, "crap crap crap. The seventeenth—That's like—"

"Seventeen days from now? Yes." With clinical care he slides his notebook into his backpack. You notice he's also carrying a duffel bag that he pushes out of your line of sight when he spots you staring at it. "Take out your phone."

On instinct you obey, cringing at your Simon Says reflexes honed from the years of playing the part of a heeding daughter and obedient teacher's pet. From context clues alone you understand what he's about to do, so you thumb open your notes app and proffer your phone out to him. His face contorts even more, and you grow concern he's going to break the laws of anatomy—If such a thing exists.

"Do you not want type out your phone num—"

Like ammo from a machine gun, numbers fall from his lips and you force down a surprised intake of air in a race to type it all down. He then forces his arms through his backpack straps, adjusts the left one, gives you one last cutting look, and walks off with his duffel bag slung across his right shoulder.

You stare after him and soon you're alone. At least your chair is free.

There's a problem here. It hits you three days later when you're knee-deep into your Calculus II homework and integration by parts is no longer a powerful distraction. You don't know your partner's name. You don't know if it's okay to text him—Well. Obviously it's okay to text him. He gave you his phone number. Fuck.

This is awkward. Your heart hammers and your palms spill out buckets of sweat, smearing against your writing utensil and drenching your paper. Ahhh. God. Get it over with. Initiate. Do it. You can do it. It's a single text. The more time you squander, the more you'll feel inclined to saddle yourself with the entire project and let him piggyback off your efforts.

It's something you wouldn't particularly mind, but if you had to deal with his murderous scowls and unspoken judgments then—Augh. You lean over and procure your phone from its charging station.

You: Hello, it's me. Your partner. What time works best for you?

Aaaaand now you're cringing. You return to your homework and force your brain to comb through your memorized catalog of trig identities. Your phone vibrates.

Chair Stealer: 6PM to 8PM

You: K. Where.

Chair Stealer: Room 201

Pause button. What.

You: Building?

Chair Stealer: Dorms

There's so much wrong here. You're about to contest it, suggest that the library is more appropriate, how you'd even prefer studying in the fucking laundry room than some dude's dorm. But this stilted text-conversation has your skin crawling, and you'd like to avoid any more unnecessary interaction with this guy.

You send a thumbs up emoji and drill twenty different questions of integration by parts and substitution into your skull until it cracks open and your brain squelches out.

It's 5:50PM and you're waiting outside room 201 with your backpack hooked over your shoulder and your eyes rooted to the clock on your phone. If you knock too early, won't that be weird? But if you arrive too late you'll look sloppy. And you're anything but that. You're an anti-mess. A not-mess. You're organized, and everything is okay, you know what classes you'll be taking next semester, what you need to graduate—

"Please move."

You fly to the side of the hallway, hands flattened against the peeling wall panels.

There he stood, chair stealer. His eyes perpetually lidded, tired, and exuding a "please don't talk to me or I'll unexist myself" kind of vibe. He hunts through his duffel bag for a pair of keys. They jingle a merry tune as he stabs them into the lock and opens the door.

"Sorry," you say a little too late, and not sorry-sounding at all. You follow after him, careful not to touch anything lest he'll fucking turn around and gut you with his keys.

He mumbles something in response. Words trapped under his mask. You ask him to repeat, but he doesn't. He simply slips off his backpack and duffel bag, organizing them into the storage space under his bed.

"Is there anywhere I'm allowed to sit?" You hope you made that sound as passive aggressive as possible.

He nudges his shoulder in the direction of a chair tucked under a desk. "There's fine."

You're grateful he's allowing you to sit anywhere at all. You situate yourself and hook your laptop up to its power supply. "So for this project, I was thinking—"

"We split it into parts. We have two weeks left which means we allot out the first half this week, second half the next. I've already composed a calendar where I've planned out segments of the project we do per day until it's completed. It gives us three days of legroom where we can edit the essay before submission."

Oh. This is a change of pace. So your partner wants to hold the reigns and dictate the pace of the project. This is nice. You nod. "That sounds fine. Thank you for thinking ahead like that."

"This is my standard procedure for anything," he says, eyes wandering towards your backpack on the floor. "Do you play volleyball?"

"The sport?" Please, brain. Work.

He stares at you. "Yes."

You angle your face away from him in a futile act of hiding the dusting of red across your cheeks. "No? I mean, no. Why?"

He expels a sigh, shoves a hand into his curls and gives one last look at your backpack. Specifically the charm hanging from the zipper. It's of some mascot character you were unfamiliar with, but your roommate had very lovingly thrown it at your head as an apologetic gesture of keeping you out of your room overnight last week.

You could cobble together context clues. That's all you could do. Your partner is not a very verbose person.

"Does playing volleyball have anything to do with the charm?"

His eyes squint. "Forget it. I've invited you to edit the document; check your email."

Oh shit abrupt topic change. You stiffen and flex your fingers before bringing up your school email and checking the column of messages in your inbox. Straddling the top of the column was an invite to—

"Kiyoomi Sakusa?" you say.

His grunt of affirmation is all you need and you click on it. Suddenly your window cranks open a new tab and a document stares back at you with linebreaks denoting what segment of the project needs to be done each day, available research journals in your university database you can use related to your topic, and an MLA citation guide.

Wow. You're impressed and you hated it! "This is, wow, this is amazing! You thought this far ahead?" Your feelings come freefalling out of your mouth unbidden. God you hated yourself sometimes. "Yeah. Yeah, gosh, this is amazing. You're amazing."

He sits on the edge of his mattress and perches his laptop on his thighs. Doesn't dignify you with a response. Honestly, you're relieved. You denote which portion of the essay you'll work on, and Sakusa supplies you with a barely audible: "Okay."

The thrum of keyboard tapping and notebook page-flapping fills the room with the ambiance of two hyperfocused university students. You're grateful he's not much of a talker, since you're not either. Not to say this is a comfortable silence, because it's not. Not by a long shot. But the prospect of looming smalltalk is far more stomach-churning to you than a pregnant pause.

One hour passes and you've already finished your slice of the essay for the day. You scroll down to see Sakusa's—

"Wait hold on," you say (he does not hold on, he still attacks his keyboard at 120 words per minute), "you're doing more than we need for today."

He glances at you before returning to his screen. "And what?"

"If you binge write the essay it's going to get sloppy."

"It won't."

The disbelief is not kept from your voice. "It won't? You misspelled the word 'constitutional' in the previous sentence. The structure's all off. Parallelism be damned, dude. C'mon." You can't maintain even a façade of professionalism at this point. He's exhausting.

He finally retracts his claw-hooked fingers from his keyboard and exhales. An edge of exasperation bites into his tone. "It's fine. I don't understand this mentality of 'overdoing' an essay. If we get it done earlier, we get it done earlier. Then we have more time to edit. Since you know so much about grammar and sentence structure then you can take care of it and I can finish this on my own."

"Then what was the point of the calendar?"

"A reassurance."

He's outclassed you in overpreparedness. Whatever preparedness you have going for you he's got in spades. You're too tired to push yourself to continue writing for the sake of not feeling like a burden, but also what the fuck you don't want to be a burden!

"Can't you call it a night here?" you say. "Since we're ahead by a sizable margin then we can—"

Aaaand he's ignoring you. The sad truth? You couldn't tell if he did it spitefully or because he genuinely doesn't understand how rude he's being. A lack of social awareness. You lean back into the chair and watch as words vomit across the document for the next thirty minutes. Then it stops.

Sakusa twists out of his bed and stretches his arms over his head, wrists bending in savagely cruel degrees where his palms can caress against his forearm. Your mouth opens, and your reaction goes noticed.

"It doesn't hurt," he says. A canned response laced with a trace of caution, like he doesn't know if you'll freak out or jump with excitement. "So don't ask me if it does."

"I wasn't going to," you say like the liar you are. Then you attempt to spring some smalltalk on him. "Are you ambidextrous?"

"What."

"Can you use both your—"

"I know what it means. I just don’t understand where that line of questioning came from." His jaw clicks. "The answer is no, by the way. I'm not."

Well fuck you for trying to start a proper conversation. You should've stuck with your anti-talk policy and not have bothered. Unfortunately Sakusa does not leave it die, and probes the lifeless conversation with a stick.

"Are you ambidextrous?" he says.

"I wish I was."

His muscles relax and he sits on the mattress again. "Why?"

"Because my right hand cramps up when I take notes. It'd be nice if I could just use my left hand when that happens."

"Not surprising given how you hold a pen." He leans against the headboard of his bed and rubs a hand against his shoulder. Looks like he's sore.

"How would you know?"

"I was forced to witness you mercilessly choking your pen in a deathgrip the entire class."

You're about to ask which class when the memories are dug up in your brain like a film strip unspooling. The anger flashes through you, white-hot and consuming when you remember—"Chair stealer!"

"Excuse me?" he says.

"Excuse yourself from my chair next time you decide to steal it from me."

It's all lost on him. The slope of his nose creases and he slips down his mask so it hugs the underside of his chin entirely. "That's my chair, actually." He points at the one you're sitting on.

"No! The one in class. That's my chair."

"It's the property of the campus, actually."

"Actually," you parrot in a voice mocking but not even close to resembling his own, "it's the one I claimed. Since the first day of class."

His lips downturn and he shucks of his shoes, slotting two fingers against their heel collars and pulling them closer to his bedpost. "Look, I don't understand if this is a bit. If it is, please stop. And if it isn't." He looks at you. "I'll sit somewhere else next class."

Oh. That was easy. You figured for a guy so obstinate in writing the entire essay in one sitting he'd put up more of a fight. Though on closer examination, you can see the hard edges of his eyes and the discoloration under them. An easy win because the poor dude is sleep-deprived.

"You need to rest," you say. You stand up and collect your things from his desktop. "I don't want to keep you up. If I see you working on the document anymore tonight, I'm going to delete it."

It's an empty threat, and Sakusa sees right through you somehow as if he already has your entire personality, disposition, and history memorized. His demeanor is still lax, there's no change; he doesn't even blink. "Alright."

You yank on your backpack, and just before you're about to leave his room, the low, tired rumble of Sakusa's voice stops you in your tracks: "It's Vabo-chan."

For a moment you're confused, but then it clicks. You awkwardly shrug one of your backpack straps off your shoulder and twist it around to point at the charm hanging from it. "This?"

He nods, eyelids drooping. He suppresses a yawn. "Yeah. It's a volleyball mascot. Hence why I asked, well, you know." He shrugs.

"Do you play volleyball?" you say.

There's a glimmer of a smile on his face before it's gone like it's never existed, like it was just a glitch and he soft rebooted. "Sometimes."

"Oh, cool!" Nothing in your voice indicates that you find it cool, and you wince internally. Ugh. Playing it off, you add on, "Maybe I'll watch you play sometime? I don't really know any of the rules, though. I'm kind of a noob at all sports."

"It's fine. You don't have to force yourself. If you're not a sports person then you're not a sports person." Another sharp yawn leaves him. It's noiseless, but you can tell he's trying to stave off his fatigue in order to keep up appearances.

You yield for his sake, and tell him goodbye. Whatever response he may or may not have had gets drowned out by the click of his door shutting behind you.

by wobbles

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 4

Snape looks back on your days at Hogwarts, how your friendship came to be, and how it came to end.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4  CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 4  .:Budding Feelings and the Beginning of the End:.

Severus Snape had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and seeing you again after all these years was forcing him to relive every single one of them.

He stared blankly at the wall in front of him, shrouded in the darkness and grim silence of his empty house. He never thought he'd see you again, and certainly not under these circumstances. When he'd laid his eyes on you in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place he couldn't believe it. He, much like the rest of the Order (except for Molly, apparently) assumed you wouldn't be at these meetings any longer. After James and Lily were murdered and Sirius was thrown into Azkaban, you'd left London and headed to New York under the Ministry's alliance with MACUSA, hoping to help bridge the gap between muggle-borns and purebloods in America. He knew you had been back to meet Harry a handful of times, but he also knew that being in this city brought up painful memories for you, so he was as stunned as anyone else to see you standing there in the doorway, greeting them as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

He could see that traveling had been good for you. He'd heard through the Hogwarts circuit that you were back on auror duty across the world, taking special assignments from Dumbledore and the Minister for Magic himself. You seemed like you were doing better, but when you turned to smile at him he could see the hesitation and the sadness that brewed behind your eyes, likely his doing.

He desperately wanted things to go back to what they were before—

Before he'd ruined it. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright students,” Professor Slughorn said as everyone finished filing inside the room, “today we're going to be pairing off into new partners for the upcoming project.”

Groans and nervous chatter flooded the sound space immediately, no one very thrilled with having to work with someone new out of their control. You cast a glance over to Lily who looked equally displeased. You liked being her partner, you both excelled at the subject and worked really well together.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Slughorn said, waving the complaints off, “However, I am going to be giving you the luxury of choosing your own partners this time, but everyone—”

The energy in the room instantly shifted, everyone shoving around people to get to their friends.

“—keep in mind, if I see any slacking off or trouble brewing in these new partnerships I will not hesitate to rearrange them!”

Slughorns's words were completely lost among the commotion as people paired off before you could even get your bearings. Snape stalled as he stared at you from across the room; Lily had already been dragged away by Mary, and his brain was trying to work out how to ask you to be his partner.

Suddenly an arm was slung over your shoulder and you turned towards the new presence in surprise. You looked up to see Evan Rosier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his Slytherin tie loose around his neck.

Oh, sod it, Snape cursed internally. He was too late.

“Wanna partner up?” Rosier asked, a crooked grin gracing his chiseled features, “It'd be my honor to have the smartest Potions partner in class, not to mention the most attractive.”

You rolled your eyes at the praise. Evan was your friend, and he was nice to look at, but if he thought that you would be willing to do all the work for the both of you in exchange for some cheap compliments, then he had another thing coming. You locked eyes with Snape from across the room

“It would be your honor,” you smirked up at Rosier, “but I already have a partner, sorry.”

It took Snape a few seconds to realize what you were doing, but once he snapped out of it he made his way towards you. You almost chuckled at how robotic he looked as he did, clearly shocked.

Rosier looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes.

“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said, letting you go and pushing you lightly in Snape's direction, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sent a wink your way that left Snape's blood inexplicably boiling,

“Thanks for that,” you grinned, “and just so you know, I would have chosen you even if he didn't come up to me, so don't get all pouty about it, okay?”

Severus just looked at you blankly. Even after four years it was frightening how well you were able to read him; for a moment he was scared that he'd accidentally projected his thoughts to you, but he wasn't anywhere near that level of legillemency yet. He wanted to say something that had some semblance of gratitude but settled on:

“Whatever.”

To which you just laughed and dragged him to your now shared desk.

You really were something else.

“Now then,” Professor Slughorn addressed the room, “today we will be beginning the new unit on toxic concoctions, starting with the Draught of Living Death. If you would all turn to page ten of your books, we will get started presently.”

You turned open your book and Severus did the same. As he did, you noticed that nearly every page was covered in small notes littering the margins, with some of the instructions circled, crossed out, or modified. You were hardly surprised, Snape had been pouring over this book since last year when he'd stolen it from a fifth year Slytherin who'd been speaking poorly of you (that last part you were unaware of).

You turned your attention to the directions, reaching over to preheat the burner so your cauldron would be hot enough by the time you began. However, as soon as you lit the flame with the tip of your wand, your cauldron shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling with a loud BANG! before crashing down back onto your table, breaking several of the glass instruments that were settled there.

Your face burned embarrassment as everyone in the room turned to look at you in shock.

“Snape, (L/n),” Slughorn said, surprised, “whatever happened?”

“I. . .” you began, not knowing what to say, “I don't know, I'm sorry, Professor.”

“Quite all right,” he said uncertainly, restoring your table and equipment with a wave of his wand, “just be sure whatever that was doesn't happen again.”

“Of course,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the snickering around you. If you noticed the way that it stopped as soon as Snape sent a deathly glare at the culprits, you didn't show it. You reached down to grab your cauldron, noticing that the bottom was dusted in some sort of orange powder. As you turned it over, a note fell out of it.

You're welcome, (L/n). Sorry I couldn't be there for the fireworks~

J.P.

“That sneaky little, ugh,” you crumpled the note, growling in frustration.

“What is it?” Severus asked, peering over your shoulder to glance at the paper. However, as soon as you tried to show it to him it vanished in your hands in a wisp of glowing embers. You turned to look at Severus who was still staring at you expectantly.

“It was Potter,” you rolled your eyes.

Anger flashed in Severus' eyes before confusion replaced it momentarily.

“But that was your cauldron, not mine. Why would Potter want to mess with you?”

And now the anger was back again. Snape was used to Potter’s crew targeting him; bullying and suffering through minor hexes had become an everyday occurrence, but when he imagined them doing anything to you it was enough to make him see red.

“Ah, well. . .” you trailed off, deciding that telling him you'd yelled at the group of Gryffindors: 'if you jerks want to have a go at Severus you're gonna have to get through me first!' was a bad idea.

“I sort of, maybe, kind of. . . started it?” you said. Severus raised a brow at you. “Look, Potter was asking for it, okay? It was about time someone messed with him for a change. And besides, it was hilarious, even Lily got a kick out of watching that broom hit him in the head.”

Severus chuckled at that, a hint of pride welling in his chest at yours and Lily's shared distaste for the Potter boy.

“But that was the last straw,” you declared, grabbing a Sopophorus bean from the bowl in front of you and a knife to cut it as per the instructions, “I'm sick and tired of him acting like he's better than everyone else,” you said, stabbing down with your knife for emphasis. The Sopophorus bean jumped as you did, sliding out from under your blade and skidding across your cutting board. You huffed as you grabbed it again, placing it back down and holding it in place. “And he walks around with that little posse of his like he runs this school!” You brought your knife down again, moving your fingers at the last second, but the bean still managed to slip away, trying to bounce back into the bowl.

“This means war!” you seethed, grabbing the runaway legume again, now at your wit's end, and crushing it in your fist. It stopped jumping as the beet-red juice of the plant dripped down your arm, and Severus looked at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, that's one way to do it,” he said.

“Shove off,” you said playfully, throwing the bean in his direction. He dodged it easily, his smile growing.

“No, really,” he said, almost more to himself than you as he scribbled out the word 'cut' and replaced it with 'crush' in his notebook, “you might be better at this than you let on.”

You blushed at the unexpected compliment, backhanded as it was.

“Excuse you, I happen to be fantastic at Potions,” you said, grabbing another bean and avoiding his gaze.

“Right, that's why your cauldron exploded.”

“That was sabotage,” you shot back.

“I was talking about last week,” Severus said cheekily, taking in your flustered expression.

You both went back to your ingredients, eventually discovering that crushing the beans with the flat of a knife was the best way to extract the juice without them jumping. You watched Severus out of the corner of your eye as he measured out the African Sea water, adding it gradually as he stirred the mixture counter-clockwise. The elixir turned a bright blue color, shimmering as if light were being reflected off of it. He continued on with the formula, snapping off a few fluxweed sprigs before adding them and lowering the heat with his wand, hardly looking at the instructions at all.

You wondered where this newfound confidence had come from. Severus was usually so rigid and withdrawn, but right now he looked more at ease than you had ever seen him. A spark was present in his eyes as he worked that you rarely ever saw, and it made you smile despite yourself.

The rest of your potion making process went on without a hitch, and you silently applauded yourself as you watched the other students around you struggle to get their concoctions together. Even Lily seemed to be having trouble, though Mary wasn't really helping other than offering moral support.

You turned back to focus on your own potion, stirring it with the ladle and mesmerized by the way it began to turn a deep plum color. Meanwhile, Severus was cleaning up your shared station, looking over at the brew. His brows furrowed as he examined it.

“Just stir it a bit more,” he said, coming up behind you and placing his hand on top of yours, “the color is still off.”

Your face burned at the unexpected contact; Snape certainly wasn't a touchy person, so the act caught you completely off guard, though you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Severus nearly jumped backwards, absolutely mortified when he realized what he was doing. It was him micromanaging more than anything; he was so focused on getting the potion right he didn't even notice he was moving his own body as he gave you the instruction.

“Sorry,” he said, feeling quite possibly the lamest he'd ever felt in his life.

“It's okay,” you said, biting the inside of your lip nervously and continuing to stir like he said. Your light response allowed Snape to relax, his shoulders lowering a full three inches. He'd been certain you would have reacted to his mistake with disgust or repulsion, but you didn't. What did that mean? You were utterly confusing. Despite how well you could read him, Severus was unable to get a read on you at all. If he had been, he would have noticed the tiny smile on your face as you stirred, silently wishing his hand were back on yours.

You and Snape stood at attention as Slughorn peered down at your potion, looking mildly impressed. He reached into his robes, procuring an oak leaf from who knows where, and dropped it into your cauldron. The leaf floated on top of the liquid for just a moment before its edges began to burn. It furled from the unseen heat, folding in on itself and disappearing into the inky depths of the liquid. Slughorn's expression lit up, his impression no longer mild.

“Merlin's beard, it's perfect!” he exclaimed, “in all my years I've never seen a pair recreate this potion exactly as you two have done today.”

You beamed at the praise, your smile only widening as you saw your emotions mirrored in Severus' face, albeit more subtly.

Over the course of your fourth year, you and Snape continued to excel in Potions, receiving much praise from Professor Slughorn and a lot of glares from your fellow students. However, there was something else that continued that year, and that was your increasing interactions with James Potter.

“I just don't get why you even bother with him,” Snape had said to you one day while you were in Potions. Your prank war with James was at its peak, and you were sidetracked that day in class coming up with new ideas to get back at him.

“It's a full on battle now, Sev,” you said, “I can't back down! Now, for my next one I was thinking something along the lines of a callback to one of his earlier stunts. Maybe get him back for tampering with my cauldron at the beginning the year.”

“(Y/n)—”

“I've got a few friends in Gryffindor, and apparently he talks about his prank plans way too loudly in the common room, so I have a head start on this one. They mentioned something about my shampoo—“

“(Y/n),” Severus stressed, finally catching your attention. You looked up at him, embarrassed at you rambling. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, “he's just baiting you. You know that.”

“It keeps them from doing anything that targets you, right?” you questioned back.

Severus didn't know what to say at that. It was true, ever since you had declared war on James, he and his stupid friends hadn't really bothered with him at all. Were you doing this for him? He didn't know what to do with the thought.

You were, of course, but you thought it better not to mention that in the last few months this had been going on, you'd also begun to find the rivalry and banter between you and James fun.

“Gather 'round students, gather 'round!” Slughorn beckoned the class over, disrupting your train of thought and putting an end to your conversation, “now, would anyone like to identify the potion in this cauldron here?” He gestured to a shockingly pink liquid that seemed to swirl on its own. Plum and periwinkle smoke wafted through the air above it in delicate spirals.

“That's Amortentia,” Lily said, “it's a love potion that's supposed to smell different to everyone depending on what scents attract them.”

“Right you are, Miss Evans,” Slughorn said proudly, “would you like to tell us what you smell?”

“Cinnamon,” she started slowly, “warm spices, butterbeer, sandalwood. . .” her cheeks reddened significantly, as if she'd made some sort of realization. “Th-that's all.” You stared at her quizzically but she just shook her head. You'd have to ask her about this later. . .

“(L/n),” Slughorn said, “would you be so kind as to do the same?”

“Sure,” you said, stepping up to the cauldron. It was captivating, almost drawing you in physically. “Wild lavender,” you said, smiling, your mother had a garden full of them when you were growing up, “rain when it hits the pavement, and old leather books.” Scents you wouldn't realize until much later all correlated with a certain person.

“Very different scents for very different people,” Professor Slughorn said, “thank you for demonstrating, you two. Now, we will not be brewing this potion today for obvious reasons. It is incredibly dangerous, capable of creating not true love, but unhinged obsession. What we will be doing, however, is studying its effects. . .”

“Strongest love potion in the world, huh?” Evan suddenly appeared at your side, “funny, I could have sworn it smelled just like you, although you wouldn't need a potion to reign me in~”

“Put a sock in it, Rosier,” you said, shoving him away playfully.

“Aw, come on, just one date wouldn't hurt,” he said, “I'm pulling out all my best lines here!”

“That's the best you've got?”

“Ouch.”

Snape couldn't help but glare at the Slytherin boy, not liking how close he was to you. Nice as he seemed, Snape knew how he could really be. He didn't think you'd be such good friends with Rosier if you knew he was knee deep in the dark arts as soon as the sun set on the castle. Then again, Severus wasn't one to talk.

Over the course of the year he noticed that you only grew closer to James, something that bothered him immensely. He was grateful that you had gotten his bullying to stop, but he hated that the way you had gone about it was to turn Potter into a friend. . .

“Merlin, he keeps looking over at you, Lils,” you said.

Lily and Severus looked over to where James sat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter in their corner table as usual. Somehow they always managed to be at The Three Broomsticks at the exact same time as your trio, almost as if they knew you were there. James Potter was, in fact, looking towards your table, until your friends not-so-discreetly turned to look at him and he diverted his gaze elsewhere.

“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your butterbeer.

Lily looked between you and James' table for a moment before turning back to you.

“Actually, (Y/n), he's staring at you.”

You looked at her like she'd grown a second head but then began to laugh.

“Is he? Jeeze, what a creep,” you said, but with affection in your voice that wasn't missed by Severus, “it's probably because I saved his ass the other day and he's still reeling from it.”

“Oh,” she said, a hint of what you swore was relief in her tone until she realized what you said, “Wait, you what?”

“Sirius and I were talking in the forest and we got ambushed by Malfoy's motley crew,” you said, “and Potter showed up because of course he did. It was just a little duel, no big deal.”

“What?!” Lily said, concern written all over her face, “they fancy the dark arts, (Y/n), you could have been hurt!”

Severus stared into his drink, unable to look at either of you.

“I'm fine, Lils,” you insisted, “and trust me, I don't think Malfoy's going to be bothering anyone anymore. Just show him a picture of a squid and he'll probably screech like a banshee.”

Lily laughed along with you, partially in confusion, until the first part of your statement hit her with a slight delay.

“Hold on, you were in the forest with Black? And did you just call him Sirius?” she asked, her teasing making your face flush.

“We just. . . figured some stuff out. . . It was nothing like what you're thinking, so drop it,” you grumbled, taking another drink to hide your embarrassed face.

“Whatever you say, (Y/n),” Lily sang, taking a sip of her own drink.

Severus felt jealousy bubble up in him like a disease. He cast his gaze upwards, his eyes locking momentarily with James'. His arch rival rose a cocky brow at him, his gaze unmistakably shifting to you and Lily before staring Snape down again. Severus took a sharp breath to steel himself, that feeling in the pit of his stomach never really going away.

That was the beginning of the end.

Read chapter 5 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy

[leahseclipse]

Dear diary

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Spencer happens to find a diary in the library, he becomes more curious about the owner of it, wanting to find them, and possibly know them better than with a few words.

Warnings: None that I can think of; just two idiots (soon to be) in love, sorry, some moments are so cheesy (but it's so cute I couldn’t not do it)

Category: Fluff

Word count: 8.4k 

A/N: Here’s the fic I’ve been working on for like...one month?? I’ve taken part in the fic swap organized by @imagining-in-the-margins​ , and wrote that fic for @sunlight-moonrise​ :)!!! It really was awesome to take part in it and I can’t wait to do others ones!! Go check out their fics as well, they’re really awesome :)

      I usually like to stay in places like the libraries I go to, the ambience is my favorite part about it, it’s pretty calm (nice deduction genius, you’re in a library, so of course it’s going to be calm), the people that I see there are quite friendly, I’ve had the occasion of speaking with some of them, and mostly, it allows me to discover new stuff instead of reading the same books for a whole week.

When I do that, I’m either really bored, or the book just happens to be one I like to read without being bored after a few pages, or even after reading it for the 100th time.

But, I guess that going to the library was a good choice, the other option that I considered before deciding to go outside was to stay all day in my secluded apartment, probably on the couch or wherever I sit, either reading or watching tv. 

It’s not that I’m lazy, I just like to do simple things like these, I’m not usually into group activities, that actually involves social stuff.

Most of the time, Penelope forces me to participate because I never decide to join on my own.

Right now, I think I just prefer to stay alone, it’s been a few hours since I came in, so I’m not really in the mood to be other people, maybe later I guess.

Although, I still found it weird not to have any message or call, it still was strangely calm. It rarely occurred.

I know, in this case, I should relax, as there is, nothing, absolutely, nothing, going on, but I can’t help but think that my phone is gonna start to vibrate at any second when I had just managed to find peace, -that I’m not close to finding- if I keep thinking of all of it happening.

I just sighed as I opened the book I had been holding for the past hour; I haven’t even reached the half of it because of all of the thinking I’ve done since I stepped in the library.

I had nothing to do at this moment, so might as well use the time I have to go to a place I appreciate.

I’ve always liked going to these, for as long as I remember. They’ve always been a place where I felt safe, relaxed, all of my problems would fade away when I’d be in, I always saw it as a shelter against the rough reality that faced me at that time when I was at high school.

I couldn’t really say something without being seen as an annoying brat; I still wonder if it was because they couldn’t accept the fact that a 12 years old was smarter than them, that I was annoying by always managing to find the answer, or because they still couldn’t stand me.

So, I guess that's why I found a real shelter in books.

I’d always read for hours and hours without interruption, at the end of one book, I already wanted to read four more.

They all were nothing but the most interesting words that I constantly appreciated other than the insults of the other students.

I used to be able to forget what was on my mind when I was reading. I still am, but when you have a job that can interrupt your perfect calm moment, things tend to get complicated when you happen to lose your concentration over that.

I also had let myself get distracted by what happened to be around; for example, the rain pouring outside, the drops that would fall down the glass, so, yeah, I...did choose to look at that instead of focusing over a book that was far more interesting.

I also closed my book again for what felt like the millionth time; perhaps it had something to do with my current struggle to focus, I didn’t really know.

It was turning out to be one of those days; my mind would fill with a ton of things, constantly repeating themselves in my head, till I'd feel like it’d explode. 

I may be just making up stuff, and I'm just distracted this time, nothing bad.

The small space I was in had some shelves a bit dispersed throughout the room, chairs, and two small tables in the middle. But when I had expected to only see the pamphlets that have always been there, I happened to be confused about the item laying on the pile. 

At a glance, it looked like a small notepad of sorts.

I haven't even noticed someone here previously, I didn't even know if someone had come at all.

I tend not to pay attention to my surroundings when I read, or even focus on anything, I just act as if nothing and as if no one was around, it's just what's in front of me and my thoughts. 

I have to admit that some exceptions can occur sometimes, such as today, when I chose to focus on a few drops of water, instead of the book that I barely touched since I arrived.

I can even dive in a book as someone is talking and just block what they say and only focus on the words I'm reading, it’s happened...quite a few times now.

It probably is why I haven’t noticed that the person that was previously here had left, nor see the book on the table.

I couldn’t even tell when, because again, I didn’t notice their presence at all.

Perhaps I could find something about the owner of the item in there…? I can't just leave it there, I'll end up regretting it at home and it won't leave my mind.

I had slightly gotten up from my seat so my arm could reach the rectangular-shaped item and sat back when I acquired it.

I did take a look at it, turned it around to search for whatever could be written on the cover, but nothing could be seen, despite that, I searched for a good minute before realizing that I'd probably have to open it to search for a possible name in it to identify the owner.

As I lifted the small string keeping the red notepad open, I found myself with a white page, with a name written on it. 

“y/n y/l/n”

I couldn’t really find them with only their name, they could be living in this city, and if they weren’t from here, the whole state.

Would it be right to just give it to one of the employees so that they could pick it up later? 

I didn’t really know, the employee could forget it, put it in a corner, and it possibly could end up getting lost, which, I wouldn’t really appreciate, even if I don't know the person at all, so it wouldn’t really change my life. 

But still, I’d still feel guilty about that, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for losing their item if it does end up getting lost.

If I went any further, I would, in a way, invade their privacy. Because I doubt they'd want -or appreciate- a stranger going through it if what’s written is personal.

I already went through the ‘give it to the staff’ solution, but, it didn’t seem safe to me, it could end up quite bad as the item can end up getting lost, so, that is definitely something to cross off the list. Even if it could end up not getting lost, I didn’t prefer to take the risk.

I couldn’t ask them about the person, as I didn’t even know them, and hadn’t even seen them around the library.

If I went to the staff standing at the enter like “I’m looking for someone that left a diary, I don’t know anything about them, I just know their name, and they went here.”, it’s literally to no use. A ton of people come in and out, and they just can’t guess. But, I did have their name, I could go up to them and ask…?

But again, what if they forget to give it to the owner when they come in? Or what if they forget they left it there, and don’t know it’s the place they left their diary there? But, was keeping it the best solution after all?

With all of the potential scenarios that could possibly happen, but not happen at the same time, to me, keeping it could possibly be the best solution, I guess.

I don’t really know if the following actions were involuntary, or just curiosity, but I just began slightly wandering through the pages, that even if that wasn’t one of my intentions at all.

I really am a complete stranger, I shouldn’t be doing that at all.

Should I be doing that right now? This isn’t appropriate at all, they wouldn’t appreciate someone going through this, at all. 

But, as I went through the pages, I began to find myself more interested about the person, some books that I had read myself had been mentioned, they seemed quite attentive, I could also tell that from the way they were writing, their writing was delicate, way more different from my chicken scratch writing that basically no one could read without having to request my presence to translate the nonsense on the paper.

I shouldn’t be going through this though, I should just close what I identified as a diary after a few pages right now. I don’t know them at all, and they don’t know me either, that isn’t something I would like someone else to do to me, so why was I still reading it?

“Even if I weren’t very happy about the behavior of my shitty boss, y/n would actually like to keep her job, so she keeps her mouth shut and smiles at what he has to say, even if she doesn’t care at all.”

It did...somehow looked like what I would say about Hotch sometimes, because even if we’re good friends, he happens to still be my superior, so we did have some arguments, eventually.

“I...also kind of hate what went on recently, I just got rejected by the guy I had a crush on-”

I closed the diary as soon as I began reading the beginning of the sentence.

Now, I should definitely not be reading that. That’s getting a bit personal over there, and I doubt she’d like that, again.

I had already gone way too far by deciding to go further than the page with her name on it, and now I reached something, that is...really personal and that I shouldn’t have read at all.

Don’t open that again Spencer, you shouldn’t have even begun reading, and now, you shouldn’t be opening it again, if you possibly want to attempt at getting a friendship, and know more about that person. 

I don’t know what happened but I just suddenly had the urge to do what I wanted to do when I had taken it: Give it to the staff and hope she manages to get it back.

A part of me did want to respect her privacy, even if it kind of was ruined now, and return it so that I wouldn’t open it again, but another part really wanted to know more about her, and possibly hope to be able to return it myself, because I do want to talk to them after what I had read, I didn’t know a lot of people that knew the books I have read, and to who I could talk to about if I do end up meeting them.

After a while of thinking, I figured I could still ask the staff, her name is in it, and if she happens to come here often, perhaps that could help, I didn’t really know.

I headed to the office near me, as a young man turned his head towards me when I had brought his attention.

“Oh, Spencer. It’s nice to see you there, it’s been a while, busy with work, as always?”

“Yeah, as always. Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you could help me with something; I found this...diary in the table over there, and the only name in it is “y/n y/l/n”, do you happen to know someone with that name, by chance?”

“y/n y/l/n? Uh, I may know someone with that name? Wait.” He said as he stepped away to talk to another employee. “Julia, do you happen to know someone named...y/n y/l/n? Spencer found a diary of hers.”

“y/n? Yeah, she comes in from time to time to grab science books.” She answered as she walked in our direction. “I wished I could go and give it to her, but, I’m really busy right now. You could leave it there though."

“I'd prefer for her to get it in person. So, I could bring it to her, but I don’t really know where she is. Do you...happen to know?” I asked, hoping to get a helpful answer.

“I think she works at uh…that craft shop at the end of the street, I saw her sometimes. You could see if she’s there, and if she’s not, you can leave it to the blond and tall guy, he’s the owner, so he’ll give it to her when she's back.” Julia said.

“Okay, uh...thanks for the help. See you later.” I gave them a small wave, as I headed to the exit, walking down the street on my way to the place that had been mentioned in the conversation. 

I didn’t come here often as I don’t necessarily build stuff, but I walked in front of it often, so I just knew it was there, nothing much.

The front of the store was colored with black paint along with small yellow lights, it stood out a bit in the street, compared to the shops around. It really made a good first impression for someone that had never come, the way the place was displayed seemed quite welcoming.

When I had made my way into the shop, everyone seemed busy with their tasks, and the shop contained about...five, six people, I’d say. 

I took a minute observing the surroundings, I didn’t really have anything to notice or say, except that the shop was nice, it was nicely organized, small signs to help the customers find what they needed were displayed, the shelves were in order, the products seemed to be good brands, and it really was various.

It wasn’t until a soft voice had brought my attention; as I turned towards the source of the voice.

“Hi, do you...need help, with something?” The girl asked with a small smile on her face.

“Oh um...I’m looking for...someone named...y/n y/l/n? I found something that belongs to her and the employees at the library where I found it said I could find her here, and that if she wasn’t there, I could give it to a blond and tall guy, who’s apparently the owner.” I explained as I held out the object firmly in my hand.

“Yeah, she’s in the back, give me a minute, I’ll get her.” She said as she left to the back of the shop, leaving me to awkwardly stand there while I waited for them to return.

It didn’t take as much time as I thought it would, in no time, she was back with a girl walking behind her.

“As said, I brought her there. I’ll leave you two, I gotta get back to the storage.” She gave a pat on the shoulder of her colleague, as she disappeared in the corner.

“I was told that you had...found something that may belong to me?” The girl, supposedly y/n, said.

“Y-yeah, I found...that, at the library.” I stuttered as I handed her the diary. She hadn’t fully realized what I handed her at first, but her face quickly showed a surprised and relieved expression on it.

“Oh, you found it there? I, I swore that I took it with me when I left for work, I was in a hurry, so I guess I forgot it, thanks."

“Probably, it was on one of the tables, I didn’t want it to end up lost, or whatever else could happen, so, I took it, hoping I might find who it might belong to. I was lucky they knew you at the library. And lucky that your name was in it. I...opened it to find out who it could belong to since the cover didn’t have a name on it. I...really felt kinda bad for opening it though.”

“Oh, just- leave it, it’s not really a big deal, you didn’t do a crime or anything. You kinda had to open it in the first place so you could know who it belonged to. I wouldn’t have been delighted by that at first, but I’m glad you found it.”

“I thought you’d react differently, I wouldn’t have liked the idea of someone going through my stuff either. I just don't feel comfortable sharing my stuff with other people.”

“You did nothing wrong there, you just wanted me to help me, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about making me angry or anything. But, don’t worry, I understand, I don’t even let my own mother see anything, I like her a lot, but I still like to keep stuff for myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m glad. At least everything is in order. I should uh...probably let you work, I don’t want you to be in trouble or anything because I kept you busy about something not work-related at all.”

“No, it’s ok. The boss isn’t around, and we don’t have many customers, it’s a calm day.” She said as she stepped closer. “Don’t tell anyone, but I actually prefer when it’s like that, I don’t work a lot and it’s better when there’s not a lot of people, I hate social interactions.”

“I get you, I also prefer that; but, unfortunately, talking to people is part of my job, and I don't think my boss would appreciate me taking a vow of silence."

“Same there, wish I could. Especially….when I get annoying customers.” She admitted, in a quiet voice. “So, you see.”

“I see, yeah.” I agreed as I felt a buzzing in my pocket.

Come on, now?

“Shit...I have to go, um...have a nice day. I hope you don’t get in trouble because of the long chat we had.”

“It’s ok, don’t worry- wait!” She interrupted before I could exit. “As you know my name, could I...know yours?”

“Oh, It’s uh...Spencer Reid." 

“Well then, uh...bye, Spencer.” She said, as I waved awkwardly when I stepped out.

Well, that sure was...an experience.

It wasn't the best I ever had, as I was basically only rambling, but, it wasn't as bad as I expected it to be on the way.

She kind of was like me, social interactions weren't her thing, so we kind of understood each other, I'd say.

So, if I happened to be awkward, I'm sure she understood why.

Well, to me, it basically was because of that, and...a bit because of her.

I really wanted to know more about her, the bit that I read about her in the diary (before the sentence that I certainly shouldn't have read), she just seemed...like an really great person. The kind of person that’d make you want to know more about her, really.

But, we were nothing more than strangers; knowing someone's name and a few details about them doesn't mean that all of a sudden, you know them. 

I just found her diary, nothing more. 

So...why do all of a sudden, I want to know more about her? 

I happened to find objects for other people, but I never wanted to pursue the exchange that I had with them. 

Maybe I should just let it slide away. I don't even know if any of that will end up fine.

I don't even know if she'll find the fact that I want to know more about her creepy or nice. 

It's not everyday that a guy who found something for you suddenly wants to know more.

Maybe it's just me, maybe it's just fine, and I'm just persuading myself that it's weird while it's not. 

I just...guess we'll see.

I don’t think she’ll react badly.

*

And...as I predicted, I haven't stopped thinking of her once in a while.

Every time I didn't think of something; she'd appear.

Why did a complete stranger occupy my mind more than others I've met before? I did remember the people I've met, but I never thought of them as much as her. 

Did a diary and a few sentences really take that much for her to stay stuck in my thoughts?

I'm sure she forgot about me since, I just gave her diary back, she exchanged a few sentences with me, and that was it. 

I couldn’t even let it slide away as I previously told.

I don’t even know if I could see her again one day.

I do want to, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t even know if she’s from around, and if she doesn’t happen to be, I don’t want to be seen as a creep if I happen to walk around.

Yeah, that was a bit weird to say, but I’m just saying what she or anyone else would possibly think of that, if I ever were to do it.

Maybe she’ll come to the library again? 

If she comes again, I hope it’ll be when we both happen to be free, because if that happens when I’m on a case, or when she’s at work, it’s gonna be...really complicated. 

I just don’t really want to directly come to the store, what if she’s not here? What if she finds me weird? I just...prefer to meet her again outside of work, in a more appropriate place, where I’ll probably feel less pressured about a conversation.

Again, yeah, it’s weird, I admit it, but, I just wouldn’t really want to directly go where she works, the majority of the scenarios that I made up, and that are filled with the fears I have about them, they’re not the greatest ones to be honest. They’re very likely not about to happen considering how ridiculous they are, but I just prefer to do it another way that won’t include a ton of ridiculous scenarios.

I seriously have no idea of why I’m acting like this, there is literally, absolutely, not anything. She’s literally the sweetest person I’ve met, she acknowledged my awkwardness, the fact that I didn’t like social interactions a lot (because most of the time, they end up in me rambling, and the person I’m talking to, is not understanding a single word of what I say the whole time, and is pretending to, to not offend me), she really was nice, and there was apparently no reason for her to find me weird in any way.

I think that I really was making up things, and being a bit dramatic.

I don’t think it’ll be that bad.

I just have to see things on the positive side, next time I’ll see her, it’ll be okay, I’ll try to not look nervous as hell, or even make the conversation weird, and everything will be absolutely fine.

I just have to stop worrying about things that aren’t things to worry about at all and go with it.

Because honestly, what could possibly go wrong?

I'm just trying to convince myself something wrong will definitely happen, when it simply won't.

We'll have a completely normal talk, without any inconvenience, and maybe see each other again, that's it.

Next time I'll see her will be a good day, I have to focus on that and absolutely not on the list (that's….oddly large) of what could possibly go wrong.

But eventually, the next few days went…better than I expected them to be, surprisingly. 

I did almost stop thinking about all of the stuff that would make our future interaction bad, and really weird, refraining me from ever talking again considering how embarrassed I would be if I'd turned out this way so…yeah, keep the positive thoughts coming Spencer. 

The week had gone...okay-ish, I’d say. 

In a way, we were busy, but at the same time, not really, it was pretty calm compared to many of these chaotic days we all hope won’t appear soon.

I had indeed tried to stop stressing about what had been on my mind for a while, but I hadn’t quite stopped thinking about her. It’s weird that she stayed on my mind more than I thought she would.

I would have never forgotten her, but thinking about her, basically most of the time, I wouldn’t have gone that far. 

Even if the week had been calm, I haven’t found the motivation or time to get myself to the library as I was supposed to. I just hoped she would be there when I would finally decide myself to go, that way I’d perhaps have a chance to get to talk to her, I just hope it will go well, I want to.

Wanting to know a stranger I read a few words about isn’t part of my habits, but I just want to try to get to know her. I don’t want to regret it later and blame myself because I haven’t been able to gather even a bit of courage to approach her.

I’m sure she’ll be okay with it, she seemed pretty nice when we had exchanged a few words, it didn’t seem like she wanted to leave, found me weird, she seemed pretty calm and open to me. 

So, I think the next time I’ll see her will be fine.

Next time will be better, I just have to gather some courage, and it’ll be totally fine.

There won’t be any problems.

*

Don’t ask how, but I somehow found myself going to the library on a free day instead of staying in my apartment all day to either read the entirety of my shelf or watch whatever comes to mind, so, basically, sit on the same spot all day and only getting up when I need to do something.

It’s pretty basic, Morgan often teases me a bit about it, saying that I could try to meet people, find love, go outside and all of these things...that only interests himself and no one else.

It’s not that I’m against all of that, it’s just that...I’m not at ease with it in general.

That’s not really part of my list of favorite things, and if I had to explain more in depth, I prefer spending a whole afternoon watching Doctor Who or even doing paperwork if I’m really bored, rather than go outside and regret it five minutes later because if I’m with other people, I can’t go and have to stand there awkwardly till everyone decides to go back home.

I don’t completely hate talking and being with other people, because I’m literally surrounded by them at work and whenever I usually go to like the library, the coffee shop and etc, but you get it, I have a preference for staying alone sometimes, it depends I’d say.

Because sometimes, it happens that I’m in the mood to be with other people without having the need to go five minutes after we gathered around.

I think it happens with most people, I hope that I’m not the only one that constantly switches their socialization mode on and off every two minutes because they can’t decide whether they want to ignore people and stay in their bubble, or talk with people and interact more than they usually would.

Today, I think that I was between the two, I did appreciate being alone in my thoughts without having to engage a conversation I’m not interested in, or simply engage a conversation in which I’ll force myself to talk to not upset the other person, but, I did wanted to see a person, I did get here in hopes to see someone, her.

I think that, as I just realized, and admitted to myself, I did come here in hopes to bump into her, and eventually talk. 

It would be nice to see her, at least I would have a reason to be here because...I truly have no idea why I came, I tried to make up an excuse like: "I need to get that book.", but it turns out that I already read it, and as long as I can remember, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed it as much as any other I’ve read more than my brain can recall.

But, I don’t really know what I was supposed to do right now, I didn’t even come here to read, so what was I supposed to do? Take a seat somewhere, and if she comes, pretend to read, and when she approaches; ‘oh I didn’t see you there!’.

I just wouldn't see myself telling that when I’d be saying the exact opposite, if she does come, I’m only gonna see her, and only her. 

I can’t pretend that I didn’t see her at all, it wouldn’t be true at all, and would kind of be rude, because I’d, in a way, pretend to ignore her, when I could just gather some courage to talk to her.

I have no idea when did I get so nervous about talking to someone, I basically do that all the time with my work, so, why am I acting like that? 

I just have to approach her when I’ll see her, and ask basics things for when you start a conversation, and just, talk about other subjects to make the conversation going. 

And now...I just realized it sound like I’m making a plan or something, I’m planning off what I want to do, and it’s kind of weird. 

You can’t really plan how a discussion goes, unless a subject to make it start is there, for example, in a meeting, in a class, or even for me, at work when I’m on case, but now, with y/n, the conversation will probably go from start, it’ll just be going with the flow, with what we both think, it won’t have a head start; but at the same time, I have no idea what I’m gonna talk about, and, as I said, I can’t plan what I’m gonna talk about either.

Since when did I question myself about that?

I usually don’t do it, I don’t even question myself and just start the conversation without even thinking of what I’m going to talk about, there isn’t really supposed to be a problem in general, but, I don’t really know, we barely know each other and don’t really know how to act, talk, so the other won’t feel embarrassed, I wouldn’t want to talk about stuff she thinks weird or hates, that would kind of make a bad impression, especially if I want to form a friendship with her. 

I really have to stop, I’ve been rambling in my head for god knows how long, and it seriously won’t make things with her better, only worse.

We started off pretty fine, so, I prefer to keep it that way, we’ll know what to talk about, and make the conversation good, so that we’ll just pursue it without even planning stuff. 

I do it everyday, it’s totally not complicated, and last time we talked, I didn’t even stress about that, I just thought about knowing her more, so I could ask about her interests, how was her day, and eventually, some books, it could be a good way to start.

I’m just going to wander around it, and just, hope she’ll come by, I guess. 

I didn’t even think that she could be there, because when someone comes in, you don’t particularly look right away at the enter, unless you’re actually expecting someone you know to come in, but, I didn’t even know if she even hoped or know I’d come here, I have just came here, and that’s it, it didn’t necessarily mean that I was from around.

I did try to pay attention to my surroundings this time, it wasn’t an habit of mine when I happened to be in my thoughts, but I didn’t really want to bump into someone, it’s a bit of an awkward situation, only if it’s just a small ‘sorry’ before each goes in separate ways. 

It also was in case she happened to be here as I previously told myself when I had made my way in. 

I think that it kind of was a way to cheer myself up and get over the fact that she might not come as I hoped for the past days. 

All I could possibly do was to remain in high spirits, and just accept what will happen, it’s really not like I can force the universe to bring her here, or text her, we didn’t even knew each other enough to be able to maintain contact, and even if a long connection wasn’t needed for it, it would have been way too weird to give her diary back and ask her number, to me.

Most people don’t hesitate and just go straight, probably telling themselves they don’t have anything to lose, but that doesn’t really seem to be my case at the moment, I’m like...not really close to it. The proof is right here, I didn’t even do it.

I would just like to see her again, I wasn’t able to say anything much last time, and I’d really like to talk to her more, I don’t know why, I can’t seem to forget her like that, she’s not like most strangers I’ve before, she really is different, but at the same time, I relate to her a lot because of our similar tastes, and the way she was when I had last seen her, she was a bit, shy, but did seem to overcome it as much as she could.

I think that, if she paid attention, she must have sort of noticed it with me as well.

The short interaction doesn’t mean much as I only saw her once, and it didn’t necessarily mean that she really acted this way in general, or just when she was with me, but the small chat we had was enough for me to tell so.

I don’t know if not having the courage to directly go to her workplace wasn’t dumb from me, it literally was as simple as if she came here, I could have went there, but at the same time, if she wasn’t there, or if she found it weird, I can’t seem to think it could happened like that, while it simply could have been totally not awkward at all, and she would have been nice, I’m just making up ridiculous scenarios that she wouldn’t do, she didn’t seem like someone mean at all.

In resume, I literally came here in hopes to see someone that I hope won’t find me weird because I’m there, and will not assume I’m hanging around to bump into her or anything else, because that's literally something I’m gonna have trouble to answer to without feeling embarrassed. 

I guess I'm just gonna walk by the aisles, maybe I'll find something to keep myself occupied while I wait.

"—the diary? Yeah, I got it back, it's uh…a guy named Spencer that came to the shop to give it back to me."

Wait, is it…

"Oh, yeah. I know him, he comes here pretty often. I’m glad, he really seemed concerned and determined to find who it belonged to." 

That voice is Julia’s, I’m not sure about the first that I heard.

"Thankfully you were here. You did contribute too."

It could be her.

"No, it's nothing, I just happened to be there." 

"You did help, so, accept my gratitude."

She did mention my name, it could be her.

"Okay, thank you." Julia said.

"I prefer that."

"You're really acting like— give me a second please!" Julia said, as she gave me a glance that was so fast that I think that she didn't have time to recognize me. 

After that, just as I glanced at her, the girl she conversed with turned her head behind her, probably out of pure curiosity.

"Oh, you're here. It's been a while." Y/N seemed surprised, but delighted to see me.

"Oh, sorry...I didn't see it was you, I barely glanced at you." Julia apologized.

"It's no problem…really." I said, eyes wide as I kept my gaze on y/n.

"Did you need something?" Julia asked.

"Me? Oh, no, I just uh...heard y/n and came here, but uh…thanks for asking Julia."

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked, her brows furrowed.

"Y-yeah, I am. Totally. 100%.”

"Okay, uh…” She hesitated, giving Julia a glance. “We're gonna do something. Since you've been coming longer than me, you could help me find new books that you like and that I might too, is it ok?" She said, as I glanced between her and Julia, as if I was looking for an answer.

"Sure, let's uh...search."

"Let's search!" Y/N exclaimed, in a playful tone as she put her hand on my right shoulder, slightly pushing me further in the alley to get me to move before I even got to think of walking by myself.

Once we had disappeared from Julia’s sight, she looked at me, taking a look around as she gave me a small smile.

“I didn’t actually want you to search books with me, it was mainly so that we could exit this embarrassing situation.” Y/N said, slighty bouncing on her feet. “What were you up to here? Are you on a day off?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. For once, I don’t have anything to do; Same for you…?”

“Yeah, I worked a lot and replaced people, so they allowed me to have one day or two. By the way, were you up to? Hoping to see someone?”

"Someone? No, I uh, definitely wasn't hanging around here hoping to bump into you or anything..." 

“I never asked if it was me, but apparently, I have a feeling you really were hanging around to see me.”

“Maybe I did…?”

“I thought you would have forgotten me by then. I’m glad it’s not the case, I still thought about the ‘diary incident’ from the last day.”

“I didn’t, and yeah, I thought about it too.”

“I actually wanted to find you back, but when I came, I didn’t see you.”

“I...also did that. I could have gone to your workplace, but I...wasn’t sure. So, I just hoped to see you here I guess, I hope you don’t lose anything else, because I won’t be able to contact you, and I’ll have to go to where you work, hoping I don’t make a fool out of myself.”

“That won’t happen if I have yours.” She said, as she took her phone out of the back pocket of her bag, handing it to me. It took me a few seconds to realize what just went on before I took the phone out of her left hand, nervously typing my number, erasing it a million times when I typed the wrong number; after a few tries, I gave it back to her.

“That way you’ll be able to find me, even if I didn’t lose something.”

“Did we basically meet because you lost something?”

“Basically, yeah. Losing it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“I’m kinda glad that you did in a way.”

“Really? I didn’t think so, I just...didn’t think you’d pay such attention to it, it just was a small interaction, after all.”

“I couldn’t just do that, I couldn’t pretend to not pay attention to that, to resume the whole situation, you left your diary in the library and I wanted to figure out who you were.....and when I read it, it was different from most people I’ve met, I know that I shouldn't have read it at all, and that was completely inappropriate to do from me, but, as I read, not the entirety of course, because that would possibly qualify me as a weird person coming from you, or anyone that knows that I’m a complete stranger, but I really had the need to learn more from you that with just a few words, if...that seems clear, and totally not weird, because that’s...not what I’m trying to be. So, yeah.”

“I get it, yeah. I didn’t think you were weird at all though. You kinda reminded me of myself in a way, I’m always afraid that the person I’m talking to is bored and doesn’t dare to tell it because they’re afraid of hurting my feelings. I’m glad you didn’t find the small chat we had uninteresting, or annoying, you know, not something that made you waste your time.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry, I really liked talking with you.”

“How about we have other conversations then? We could have one now, you could help me pick out books, I’m kind of bored of reading the same ones. How is that?”

“Yeah, sounds great, yeah.”

“I guess uh...lead the way?”

“Oh, yeah- I’ll lead the way.” I said, as we both walked towards the staircase leading to another section of the place, and although we only walked for just a minute, it felt like less, I didn’t stop staring at her that I almost tripped over the last step.

“What was on your mind? You almost fell down.”

“I uh...just got lost in my thoughts, for a bit. You know, thinking about books...and stuff.”

“Just books?”

“Yep’, just books, totally nothing else.”

“If you say so.” She said, with an amused tone.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“Your tone was saying otherwise.”

“My tone...how?”

“You sounded nothing but suspicious. Kind of obvious if we look at your face too.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Now you know genius.”

“Genius? What’s that nickname?”

“I don’t know, it suits you.” 

“And what’s your nickname? The-girl-that-forgets-her-stuff?”

“It was an accident, I only did it once!”

“You might do it, you gave me your number to call you in case you lose stuff.”

“No; it’s also so we can talk, that’s all.”

“Just that?”

“Yeah, just that. Now stop talking and show me books, you told me you’d help me, so do it now.”

“That wasn’t asked politely, try again.”

“Are you serious…?” She let out a laugh.

“Yes, why?” I answered, throwing her a smile and raising my eyebrows, as her smile dropped.

“Ugh...fine. Could you please help me to find new books, Spencer?”

“Now that’s better. Yes, I’ll help you.”

“I can’t believe that, we've known each other since one week or I don’t know how much and you’re already mistreating me.”

“I didn’t mistreat you, I just learned good manners to you, that’s all.”

“Good manners? Am I gonna have to talk to you like that whenever we’ll talk?”

“Exactly.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“You could have just said yes or no. Turns out you’re not the genius I thought you were.”

“What do you mean? Is there specific characteristics that define geniuses or what?”

“Yeah, and you seem totally not like it.”

“Hey! It’s not true, you don’t even know anything about me.”

“Oh yeah, and what do you have to call yourself a genius?”

“Uh, I don’t usually like to talk about it as it is mostly seen as me bragging about it by some people; but I currently have three PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering and two BAs in Psychology and Sociology, and I’m also working on getting a third BA in Philosophy.”

“Did you say everything or...do you have more or something? Because I...kind of regret basically saying you were not smart.”

“Three more things…?”

“Okay, are they short or long ones?”

“The sentence is short, but once you know the meaning, they’re not so short...all of a sudden.”

“What are they?”

“Well, an IQ of 187...eidetic memory, and...I can also read 20,000 words per minute.”

“Okay...now I get the beforehand explanation.” She said, as she walked up to an alley, raising her arm at the column the book she must have chosen was. 

Well, she didn’t...quite reach it, only with the tip of her fingers. I don’t usually do that, but...I did have some fun watching her struggling, I think she knew she couldn’t reach it, but was trying anyway.

“Here, let me help.” I sighed, as I walked up behind her, raising my hand above her head to take the book. 

Ok, is my life a Christmas movie or what now? Not to say that I find it annoying, not at all, but it sounds very cliché to me. 

The girl can’t reach out something, so a guy comes out of nowhere to help, they begin to talk, and bam, they’re together one week later, just by magic.

“Thanks, but I could have reached it…”

“In ten years, maybe.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever grow anymore at my age.”

“Why? What are you, 52?”

"No! I’m 25.”

“We’re not that far at all then, we’re the same age. I figured you were younger though, you don’t have an adult face.”

“I do.”

“Is your face that convincing for you to be able to get alcohol without the cashier asking for your ID?”

“Whether I have an adult face or not, you always have to show it.”

“I don’t.”

“Fine, I have a baby face.”

“I was waiting for you to admit it, didn’t take as long as I expected it would.”

“I’m just admitting it now so you don’t bug me with it till I actually decide to.”

“I wouldn’t have dared to do it, don’t lie.” 

“I know you would have done it, if not, thought about it.” She admitted.

“I can’t deny it.”

“I knew it. Who’s the genius now?”

“Your IQ didn’t go up because you made me admit something.”

“I like to say it did go up a bit.”

“Okay, a bit. If you think so.”

“I do think so.”

“Okay, genius #2.”

“It’s not the best position for a smart girl like me, but I’ll accept it anyway.”

“Read these books if you say that you’re smart then.” I said, as I dropped two science books in her arms.

“I didn’t come here to read science now, so, no thanks.” She shoved the books back where I had taken them, scoffing.

“I’m trying to make you smarter, why don’t you accept my help?”

“I am smart, I don’t need help.”

“You sure? You did lose your diary.”

“It was an accident, don’t go and tell me you never forgot stuff somewhere.”

“I did, but I realized it before leaving the room at least.”

“Okay, what do you want me to admit?”

“That I’m uh...smart?”

“You’ll have to take me out on a date for that.”

“A date…? Like, a real one?”

“I thought you proved yourself to be smart enough to figure that out.” She smirked at me.

“I am! I just...got surprised by it.”

“Why? Nobody asks you on dates?”

“Not really.”

“Then that explains why I guess.”

“Explains what exactly?”

“That you never went on one, you ask if it was a real one. Of course it is.”

“I just...didn’t expect that. I don’t go out of my apartment expecting a girl is going to ask me out, especially a…”

“A what?”

“...a good looking one, it’s not everyday that I get to talk to girls that pretty.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess.”

“I really mean it. It wouldn’t have been correct for me to not say it, that’s probably why I sounded so awkward back at the shop.”

“I didn’t know it was because of me. I don’t meet guys that get intimidated by me often, they just casually talk with me whether I know them or not, you’re the first one that said that to me.”

“Well, let me say something, they’re all idiots. I don’t understand how anyone could talk to you that way. That might seem weird or creepy, whatever...but, if I had been there when guys were rude to you, whether I knew you or not, I would have helped you, the boyfriend, friend, cousin technique, you know...Okay, that was a weird thing to say.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I would have done and said the same thing. You’re really nice.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“So, you’re still up for the date?”

“Y-yeah, totally.”

“Okay. Do you uh...want to hang out a bit more…? If you don’t have anything else to do, I don’t feel like going home right now.”

“No, I don’t have anything to do.”

“What about...we stay here till the closure?” She asked.

“Even better; till they kick us out.”

“Till they kick us out.” She repeated.

After that, we really did stay till they had to tell us themselves that the place was about to close soon for the day. We did go out after, even if we didn’t plan on, and we just walked around, not even bothering about how far we’d go.

I would be lying if I said that we both got to our respective apartments at a decent hour, because, we actually said goodbye to the other at almost 2AM, when basically everyone got home, the streets were empty, only a few people were there, but not enough for the streets to be crowded.

I wish we would have stayed a bit more, I really felt at ease with her, so, deciding it finally was time to go was hard to do, because to me, time went by way too fast.

I do hope we’ll get to see each other more often (if both of our workplaces allow us to, of course), I just can’t wait to know more about her.

Although, now that all of that happened within a few weeks, changing more than I expected in my life, but, I think that from now on;

I’ll have a reason to pay more attention to my surroundings.

**

[qqueenofhades]

Whew!

Darklina + academia AU? (Professors, students, whatever dynamic you find most interesting)

Alina Starkov has always loved maps.

There’s just something about them: the deeply human struggle to understand the world, to sketch it out, to imagine fantastic beasts and lands and people on the margins, here be dragons. It’s half illusion and half reality, a guidebook both to what lies out there and what is dreamed of. She is fascinated by the relative accuracy of maps drawn long before satellites and space photographs – that, say, the sixteenth-century Europa recens descripta à Guileilmo Blaeuw does look pretty much like the modern continent. Well, mostly. She wrote her undergraduate senior thesis on the fictional island of Frisland, long believed to exist in the North Atlantic Ocean just south of Iceland, and its role in premodern cartographic and geographic imagination. Rereading it now gives her a twitch, as it always does with academics trying to revisit their past work, but it’s not all bad. It won her a prize and it impressed Professor Baghra Morozova, the fearsome head of the Department of Medieval Studies at Central European University, Vienna. (Best method to survive her class: Pray.) And it’s why Alina, still feeling very, very much like a terrible fraud – though she’s been assured this is likewise common to academics, so yay? – is working late in the main library on Quellenstraße, stifling yawns. She has a supervision meeting tomorrow, and if she half-asses this, Baghra will eat her alive.

Alina has been working for a while, pausing only to slug lukewarm coffee from her travel mug and answer texts from her flatmate Genya, when she becomes aware that there’s some other late-night diehard skulking in the stacks. This isn’t uncommon, but this guy doesn’t look like your usual desperate slacker. He’s tall, lean, and elegant, wearing a black shirt and crisp slacks, and – Alina has eyes, sue her – he’s extremely good-looking. Thick dark hair with a bit of a curl, a sharp dark gaze, and although he has his own stack of books, he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to any of them. In fact, he is looking – a little unsettlingly – directly at her.

Oh, hell. Alina hasn’t spoken to him before, but she knows who this is. Aleksander Morozov is an urban legend at CEU, for rather ominous reasons. He is rumored to be in some indeterminate year of his own PhD, but disappears at long stretches for “research trips,” and nobody is any the wiser about what he’s actually doing on them. Noting the similarity of surname, Alina once asked Baghra if they were related, and got a face that looked like someone had died. “Unfortunately,” her supervisor said, lips pursed, “he is my son. But I assure you, his presence on this campus has nothing whatever to do with me.”

Understanding that familial relations were, to say the least, chilly, Alina hasn’t pushed it. She’s also not sure what to make of her professor’s estranged (and disturbingly attractive) offspring sitting here and watching her study, as if he has nothing better to do than haunt first-year PhD students like the Ghost of Bad Decisions Yet To Come. At last, she gets up and marches over. Keeping her voice at librarian-approved levels, she hisses, “Excuse me, can I help you?”

She speaks in English, the lingua franca of CEU, though the Morozovas are political exiles from the Putin regime, like White Russians fleeing the Bolsheviks once upon a time. Alina herself is ancestrally Russian – born in Moscow, adopted by a nice British couple out of an orphanage and raised in suburban Sussex – and as Aleksander Morozov flicks those onyx eyes up at her, she can sense him weighing how to respond. As if he wants to test her, examine her bona fides, and Alina’s Russian is limited to “da,” “privyet,” and “dosvidaniya.” Not that he should know that. Not that he should know anything about her.

“Good evening,” he answers, also in English. His Received Pronunciation is even more posh than hers. “I wasn’t aware that I was disturbing you.”

“You’re – ” Alina wrestles with herself, tells herself not to be rude. It’s not a crime to sit and watch someone study, even in a mildly creepy fashion. “You’ve just been watching me for, like, an hour now.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t apologize or explain why that might be. He sits back in his chair, studying her like a piece of rare porcelain. “My apologies, Miss Starkov.”

Alina glances at him again, despite herself. There’s an undeniable thrill at actually talking to the campus heartthrob, even if the reason for it leaves something to be desired. She should say something else, when she becomes aware that he’s addressed her by name, and she doesn’t remember introducing herself. That doesn’t exactly do anything to convince her that he’s not a stalker. A little uneasily, she says, “How do you know my name?”

“You’re my mother’s student, aren’t you?” He cocks his head. “Alina?”

“I – yes.” That does explain it, although she didn’t realize the two of them were on speaking terms, or that they discussed her. Her name sounds unusual in his mouth, deliberate in a way nobody has spoken it before, and all at once, he gets to his feet. He stands several inches taller than her, and he starts piling his books into his bag, as if to discreetly absent himself now that she’s noticed him. “You don’t – ” she starts. “I didn’t mean to – ”

He looks at her again, sidelong. Then he says, “I should go home and get some sleep. I’m returning to Oxford tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Oxford?”

“I went to school there.” He utters a short, dry laugh. “All the good Russians do. And they live in Londongrad.”

That explains the accent, at least, and he seems to have some other business there, whether it’s another of the “research trips” or a guest lecture or whatever else. (Alina hasn’t seen his CV, but she has a sneaking feeling it’s the kind of thing to make her throw her drafts in the trash and never do anything in academia again.) Despite herself, she’s curious, and even though she has just told him to get lost, kind of, she wants to know. “Will you be back?”

Aleksander Morozov studies her with utter, unblinking intensity, as if he sees past flesh and bone, blood and sinew, to the very core of her, something that even she does not fully comprehend. Then he shrugs, his eyes never leaving her face, until Alina feels a shiver travel down her from head to toe, cold and powerful, twisting in her stomach. “Perhaps I will. Good night, Miss Starkov.”

With that, he nods to her, then turns on his heel, vanishing into the shadows as effortlessly as if he is made from them. No sound, no breath. Simply there one moment, and gone the next. Alina rubs her eyes, but she is alone in the library. Just as she wanted. Wasn’t it?

She can’t help her eyes from searching for him, or rather the vanished impression of him, the flutter of a curtain after someone has left the room. Before she can stop it, she has the thought that he very much is a map of his own, a path that leads into a strange dark land beyond the boundaries of the known world, a dragon or a doorway, a dream of what could be. Maybe something entirely ordinary. Maybe something not.

Alina shivers again, and returns to her carrel. She sits down and pulls the next book toward her, forcing her tired eyes to focus. Just because Aleksander Morozov – Aleksander Morosov – is a map, albeit the strangest one she has ever seen, it does not mean she needs to follow where he leads. She knows damn well the danger.

(And yet, despite herself, she wants to.)

[richincolor]

Today is Rich in Color’s eighth anniversary! Can you believe it?

We’ve read so many fantastic books over the years, so our bloggers compiled a list of eight books that we wanted to recommend to our followers. These books are ones that we love and that have stuck with us through the years. How many of them have you read?

All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books

In an unforgettable new novel from award-winning authors Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely, two teens—one black, one white—grapple with the repercussions of a single violent act that leaves their school, their community, and, ultimately, the country bitterly divided by racial tension.

A bag of chips. That’s all sixteen-year-old Rashad is looking for at the corner bodega. What he finds instead is a fist-happy cop, Paul Galuzzi, who mistakes Rashad for a shoplifter, mistakes Rashad’s pleadings that he’s stolen nothing for belligerence, mistakes Rashad’s resistance to leave the bodega as resisting arrest, mistakes Rashad’s every flinch at every punch the cop throws as further resistance and refusal to STAY STILL as ordered. But how can you stay still when someone is pounding your face into the concrete pavement?

But there were witnesses: Quinn Collins—a varsity basketball player and Rashad’s classmate who has been raised by Paul since his own father died in Afghanistan—and a video camera. Soon the beating is all over the news and Paul is getting threatened with accusations of prejudice and racial brutality. Quinn refuses to believe that the man who has basically been his savior could possibly be guilty. But then Rashad is absent. And absent again. And again. And the basketball team—half of whom are Rashad’s best friends—start to take sides. As does the school. And the town. Simmering tensions threaten to explode as Rashad and Quinn are forced to face decisions and consequences they had never considered before.

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline Dancing Cat Books

In a futuristic world ravaged by global warming, people have lost the ability to dream, and the dreamlessness has led to widespread madness. The only people still able to dream are North America’s Indigenous people, and it is their marrow that holds the cure for the rest of the world. But getting the marrow, and dreams, means death for the unwilling donors. Driven to flight, a fifteen-year-old and his companions struggle for survival, attempt to reunite with loved ones and take refuge from the “recruiters” who seek them out to bring them to the marrow-stealing “factories.”

Wild Beauty by Anna-Marie McLemore Feiwel & Friends

Love grows such strange things.

For nearly a century, the Nomeolvides women have tended the grounds of La Pradera, the lush estate gardens that enchant guests from around the world. They’ve also hidden a tragic legacy: if they fall in love too deeply, their lovers vanish. But then, after generations of vanishings, a strange boy appears in the gardens.

The boy is a mystery to Estrella, the Nomeolvides girl who finds him, and to her family, but he’s even more a mystery to himself; he knows nothing more about who he is or where he came from than his first name. As Estrella tries to help Fel piece together his unknown past, La Pradera leads them to secrets as dangerous as they are magical in this stunning exploration of love, loss, and family.

Picture Us in the Light by Kelly Loy Gilbert Disney-Hyperion

Danny Cheng has always known his parents have secrets. But when he discovers a taped-up box in his father’s closet filled with old letters and a file on a powerful Silicon Valley family, he realizes there’s much more to his family’s past than he ever imagined.

Danny has been an artist for as long as he can remember and it seems his path is set, with a scholarship to RISD and his family’s blessing to pursue the career he’s always dreamed of. Still, contemplating a future without his best friend, Harry Wong, by his side makes Danny feel a panic he can barely put into words. Harry and Danny’s lives are deeply intertwined and as they approach the one-year anniversary of a tragedy that shook their friend group to its core, Danny can’t stop asking himself if Harry is truly in love with his girlfriend, Regina Chan.

When Danny digs deeper into his parents’ past, he uncovers a secret that disturbs the foundations of his family history and the carefully constructed facade his parents have maintained begins to crumble. With everything he loves in danger of being stripped away, Danny must face the ghosts of the past in order to build a future that belongs to him.

The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan Little, Brown Brooks for Young Readers

Leigh Chen Sanders is absolutely certain about one thing: When her mother died by suicide, she turned into a bird.

Leigh, who is half Asian and half white, travels to Taiwan to meet her maternal grandparents for the first time. There, she is determined to find her mother, the bird. In her search, she winds up chasing after ghosts, uncovering family secrets, and forging a new relationship with her grandparents. And as she grieves, she must try to reconcile the fact that on the same day she kissed her best friend and longtime secret crush, Axel, her mother was taking her own life.

Alternating between real and magic, past and present, friendship and romance, hope and despair, The Astonishing Color of After is a novel about finding oneself through family history, art, grief, and love.

Pride by Ibi Zoboi Balzer + Bray

Zuri Benitez has pride. Brooklyn pride, family pride, and pride in her Afro-Latino roots. But pride might not be enough to save her rapidly gentrifying neighborhood from becoming unrecognizable.

When the wealthy Darcy family moves in across the street, Zuri wants nothing to do with their two teenage sons, even as her older sister, Janae, starts to fall for the charming Ainsley. She especially can’t stand the judgmental and arrogant Darius. Yet as Zuri and Darius are forced to find common ground, their initial dislike shifts into an unexpected understanding.

But with four wild sisters pulling her in different directions, cute boy Warren vying for her attention, and college applications hovering on the horizon, Zuri fights to find her place in Bushwick’s changing landscape, or lose it all.

The Gilded Wolves (The Gilded Wolves #1) by Roshani Chokshi Wednesday Books

Paris, 1889: The world is on the cusp of industry and power, and the Exposition Universelle has breathed new life into the streets and dredged up ancient secrets. In this city, no one keeps tabs on secrets better than treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier, Séverin Montagnet-Alarie. But when the all-powerful society, the Order of Babel, seeks him out for help, Séverin is offered a treasure that he never imagined: his true inheritance.

To find the ancient artifact the Order seeks, Séverin will need help from a band of experts: An engineer with a debt to pay. A historian who can’t yet go home. A dancer with a sinister past. And a brother in all but blood, who might care too much.

Together, they’ll have to use their wits and knowledge to hunt the artifact through the dark and glittering heart of Paris. What they find might change the world, but only if they can stay alive.

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender HarperCollins

From Stonewall and Lambda Award–winning author Kacen Callender comes a revelatory YA novel about a transgender teen grappling with identity and self-discovery while falling in love for the first time.

Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after.

When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle….

But as he navigates his complicated feelings, Felix begins a journey of questioning and self-discovery that helps redefine his most important relationship: how he feels about himself.

[daeliariddle]

In defense of SessRin.

"The SessRin is pedophilia."

“They are father and daughter. He was her protector. "

"But the girls got married young, they already received marriage proposals at the age of 13."

“But in Japanese folklore, the yokai took the girls and later married them. It is part of their culture. "

Can we stop tagging the SessRin on all these things? Because these things do not help the couple, nor the terrible antis arguments that speak of manipulation, of how Sesshoumaru marries the "girl he knew and raised", and that "he waited for her to grow up to make her her wife ”. Because they turn out to be like the pro arguments, in the end they become a euphemism for what we criticize.

Let's leave behind the antis arguments that contradict themselves, that if they are only a fraternal or parental relationship, and then say that there is grooming, because he woos her with kimonos, the cd-drama and other hints of how couple A will develop FUTURE.

As proshippers that we are, we must also leave behind the arguments about the Japanese culture, because we reduce the ship, we forget about Sesshomaru and Rin as individual beings.

The SessRin is much more than any argument, for or against it. It is not the relationship of a human girl devoted and given to everything a daiyokai says; Antis, stop staining the relationship that way. Here, Lolita does not apply. It's not the relationship of a daiyokai who must raise a human girl to learn how to be a parent, either. The SessRin is nothing they write.

It is just the story of two completely different beings who met in their worst circumstances. Mortally wounded, marginalized by her people; and that despite everything, they had a gesture of empathy and compassion for the other despite the stigmata, hatred and prejudice.

Try to give food, clean wounds. Insist on helping. Ask a how you were. Look with genuine interest. Smile.

The SessRin is just two people who wanted to accompany each other, in the most disinterested way there is. She is the girl who wants to always be with the only person who had more consideration for her, in her way, and she is the monster who learned to see the good things in humans, in the most innocent way of her.

Let's stop dirtying their relationship with the fact that "she would do everything he told her to", because he would never do something against her will, wasn't their disinterest in each other clear? They are not father and daughter, they are not brothers, he is not an “adult cajoling a girl”, they are just two companions who were only a few months together, and each one will go their own way until she wants to be with him again. In love or not, he will seek a way for her to heal her wounds as well, as he has done.

And if they want to be together, what stops them?

We must stop reading ourselves as the worst face of Ned Flanders, do you, antis, do not see much fiction apart from Inuyasha / Hanyo No Yashahime? We are used to novels, anime / manga, movies, series where they deal with forbidden loves, immoral ones: Adultery, age difference, teacher / student, love triangles, stepbrothers, incest, boss / employee, humanoxser of hundreds of years. Why are they so upset about the SessRin when, ironically, it's the relationship where the character with authority never forces her henchman to anything she wants? It's like they don't really know the pairing, and it shows because they only criticize SessRin.

The SessRin is not shipped for whatever reasons they give, it is shipped because of the relationship and the way of being of each one, which makes them related. Don't you shipe a crack couple just because you imagine their relationship? It's easier than you think, people shipe because they want to shipe and that's it.

And it is incredible that, Sunrise despite showing what you criticize and want to avoid (the relationship of Tamano and Homura) you put back the SessRin, which is the least toxic ship in Inuyasha / Hanyo No Yashahime. The obsession.

That resentment for the ship is not healthy, it makes them hypocrites. Let people ship at ease. And enough with the argument that real life is wrong and what we think if it were a case happened as is, because it is ridiculous. There is no point of comparison in fictional characters with real people. I can't imagine if Inuyasha happened in Ancient Egypt, surely the characters and fans will be treated as incestuous for something that was common there, despite the fact that no one currently shares that belief. Learn to separate your taste from you, as a person.

So proSessRin, let the antis write whatever they want. And this I will put it strikingly:

  ⚠⚠⚠  Do, don't do, or stop doing anything Sesshomaru for Rin's well-being, the antis ALWAYS, I repeat ALWAYS, will see it as a way to manipulate and access her.

The SessRin had to be given as Rin was a child, like it or not, in order to see how Sesshoumaru was curious about the innocence and naivety of humans, in their purest form. And at the same time, that you, antis, realize this. Because if Rin had been an age more in line with Kagome's, then you would have misjudged their pure relationship. We would mistakenly think that Sesshomaru fell in love with Rin because he got horny with her if Rin was a teenager. ⚠⚠⚠

If I need to write something else, I will leave it in comments, that I always forget to write something.

Enjoy that the SessRin is canon, it is enough to say at convenience what is canon and what is not, and measure the same yardstick if you just have another ship where "they have filler scenes", because in the end they act like what they criticize.

And yes, I blocked some because they are still foolish in not understanding the ship. They are not worth it that way. 

I don't care about the cultural. The cultural thing is that we must stop thinking that it is correct, we must think that Sesshoumaru is not human if he wants, and he had to adapt to concepts that are alien to him, and get away from Rin because of the affection (platonic and innocent) that he had it. Why are antis so foolish to see love romantically or sexually, or to see it as father and daughter? They are basic.

And no, anti. I did not write this for you to answer me, because I know that you are going to see everything wrong with your mentality full of poop. So do not waste yourself in offending me because I put a brake on you. You, harassing and attacking other people for a ship are trash. I'm sorry. Yes, I used your favorite hashtags, I will not remove them. I am in my right. You can move on from me and now. Just as I block them. Or is freedom of speech just for you, to harass us? Don't be unfair.

And remember: let the antis burn like Homura.

[dekalko-mania]

Things That Lurk in the Dark (Pt. 1)

Amity changed the day the portal opened, in more ways than one.

....

As a young child, Danny had an immense fear of the dark, so severe that he had slept with his parents until they'd attached glowing stars to his ceiling and assured him there was nothing wrong. He'd assumed the problem was no longer there, pushed aside by the many other obstacles he'd faced in his past year of ghost-fighting.

He'd assumed wrong, it seemed, when he began to once again see the shadows in a sinister light.

Danny had first attributed it to his increasing paranoia, an overactive imagination fueled by being constantly alert. He was used to seeing things that were not there upon second glance, accustomed to jumping at any figure he saw from his peripheral vision. This was different, he knew, when he found himself knocking on Jazz's door more often, asking if he could sleep on her floor.

"This is the third night in a row, are you sure you're okay?"

His sister asked the question every night without fail, despite only ever receiving a lie as an answer. His nightmares were back, that was his response, knowing all too well that to get them he would have to have slept at all.

He lay awake that night, lulled into a rare sense of calm by Jazz's soft breaths. Maybe if he counted them, like one counted sheep, he could finally rest.

He planned on doing just that, when a familiar humming filled the room, coming from beside his sister's desk. He sat up, head snapping in the direction of the intrusion as tendrils of darkness formed into abstract shapes.

He stared, not daring to take a breath as he waited. Tonight, he would let it be for longer, observe first and then shoot after. As he watched, cold waves of terror creeping up his spine, the shadows formed into what looked like a door.

He had previously predicted they would become something outright threatening, a creature that lurked in pitch black, or a hand creeping out from beneath their wooden floors. This was somehow much worse, a gateway from who knows where, into their world.

Getting on all fours, he crawled forward, reaching out towards the handle. Before he could make contact, it began to jiggle, beginning as a gentle side to side, and rapidly shifting into an aggressive attempt to enter.

Without sparing a thought, he lit a fire on his palms, green and incredibly bright to ward the door away. That somehow always seemed to work, destroying whatever fragile arrangement had made its place near him.

Deciding that sleep was out of the picture, he shifted into a sitting position, keeping his eyes out for any more potential threats. The following morning, Jazz found him that way, both hands set ablaze and drooping eyes filled with apprehension.

....

It had been difficult explaining away Jazz’s worry, even more difficult to explain to Sam and Tucker why he was acting so strangely. He had grown as Phantom, realized that when facing his fears it was better to be strong and fight through them. If he let his guard down, people would be hurt. 

Yet, somehow, after literally facing death, he found himself once again fighting against a childhood fear. It was humiliating, having to admit it, so he kept it hidden as best as he could.  

"Daniel!"

Danny shot up, snatching the arm waving in front of him on instinct, earning a series of giggles from the class. He tightened his grip, realizing that the lights had been dimmed in the time he'd been nodding off. Already, in that short time frame, he was beginning to see the darkness curling into itself like smoke, caressing the walls in unnatural shades. Surely someone had to have noticed?

"What, he’s gonna fight the teacher now?"

"Loser."

Danny took a sharp intake of air, seeing who exactly the arm belonged to. With an apologetic expression, he released Mr. Lancer’s wrist, lowering his head and mustering the most sincere “sorry” he was capable of in his current state.

“It’s alright, I’ve faced worse at PTA meetings,” Lancer grunted, upset but with a kind tone. “I noticed you dozed off. I know educational movies aren’t preffered, but unless you pay attention, you’re going to fail the upcoming exam.” 

“I’m sorry,” Danny repeated. “It’s just, the lighting here is making it hard to stay awake. Could we maybe flip a switch?” 

Danny did his best to hide the tremor in his voice, all too aware that the gaze of Dash and co. were pinned onto him. Lancer, unaware, surveyed his student, face unreadable as he apparently didn’t like what he saw.

In a low mutter, he told Danny to grab his backpack and wait for him in his office. As someone who had been sent there countless times in the past, he needed no direction, quietly making his way out of the classroom with a mental groan at seeing Dash smirk in his direction.

Great, among his cryptic visions he would now have to deal with his long-time bully. 

Danny leaned against the lockers, running his hand along them for stability in the all too quiet hallway. The humming was everywhere, within the walls, under the cracks in empty classrooms. Anywhere scarce of light, they always lingered, the vague figures, never tangible except for the doors. The longer he stared at one spot, the more Danny noticed them.

They had always been there, waiting for him to spot, knobs twisting as the unknown tried to worm themselves inside of him. They appeared to him as Fenton the most, weak human Fenton, rendered useless with limited access to his ghost powers. He’d found himself growing bitter of this half of him more as of late, wishing that he could always carry the confidence of Phantom, the fearlessness. 

He pushed open the office door more aggressively than he’d intended, dumping himself onto a leather chair with a heavy sigh. He inspected the room in his wait for Lancer, fingers twitching with impatience. The man meant well, setting him aside from a situation that obviously made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t find it within himself to appreciate it just yet.

Maybe he would be more grateful if the humming would stop. He clasped his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the frustrating noise that never ceased to grate on his nerves. As if taunting him, the sound seemed to travel through the flimsy barrier his fingers provided, emanating from his right side.

Thump, thump, thump

He glanced over to the source, teeth clenching at the old storage cabinet that filled his vision. Its drawers rattled, forcing themselves open, before crashing closed. 

The surreal qualities of Amity were everywhere, strongest in the darkest places. Objects disappearing in the blink of an eye, room layouts changing completely on a daily basis, all things that the residents should’ve noticed. But no one did, not even his family or closest friends. 

He was alone, the only one who was aware of his bizarre surroundings, now stuck in a room with a seemingly haunted cabinet. Danny stood, shifting into a fighting position. 

“Whoever you are, get out of there right now!” 

The slamming stopped, relieving him for a minute, before restarting again with increasing vigor. It was like it was mocking him, the whole town was. 

“Cut it out! I can’t deal with this crap anymore!” He readied a blast, uncaring if he would get detention for the rest of the year. “I’ll give you until three-”

The rattling came to an end, leaving the room quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the wall. 

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” He relaxed his posture, though only by a margin as he’d learned to never underestimate his luck’s ability to run thin.

“Daniel?” 

He jumped, realizing Lancer must’ve walked in while his student was glaring at the cabinet. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, attempting to seem unfazed. 

“Was that you yelling? I could hear it from the hallway.” 

“Um, yeah sorry. I thought there was a ghost.”

“Is that what it is?” Lancer closed the door, gesturing for him to sit down. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately. You’ve been more taciturn than usual, perhaps it’s due to the increase in ghost activity?”

Huh, so there were some who had noticed something odd, even though it wasn’t to the full extent. Danny thought for a moment, testing the waters. Maybe Lancer saw more than he let on, noted the gradual changes to their city. 

Quietly, uncertain with his teacher’s response, Danny spoke. “I’m fine. Things have just been a little odd lately, besides the ghosts.”

“Well, I have an hour until my next class. Perhaps you can explain it to me,” Lancer leaned forward, showing his undivided attention. “You’ve been doing well this semester, I don’t want us going back to square one.”

Danny thought back to his freshmen year, bombarded with the change of his lifetime, having absolutely no time for his assignments or anything else in between. It was an arduous effort adjusting to his new life, or half life, and he wasn’t keen on losing control of everything he’d worked so hard for. 

“No, I don’t want to either. It’s the changes that are bothering me, I think. Amity.” He glanced over at Lancer’s face, eyeing any changes in expression. 

“I don’t think I follow.” He looked slightly confused. 

At this point, Danny would’ve usually given up, swept the issue under the rug and moved on with his day. He didn’t enjoy sharing his emotions, his burdens, but he just needed to know that there wasn’t something wrong with him, that someone else could see it too. 

“Don’t you ever see...I don’t know, weird things that shouldn’t be happening? Maybe hear noise and see light under a door, but walk in and there’s nothing there?” He steeled himself, looking up to meet Lancer directly in the eye, hoping that the man saw that he was speaking with clarity. “Or have you ever been behind a locked door and felt that someone was trying to get in? Or the dark...that’s where it’s the worst. Do you see any of that?”

“I can’t say I do, Daniel.” Lancer frowned. “And if that was the case, I would say it was the ghosts.” 

“But it’s not the ghosts. I know it’s not them.” His ghost sense would’ve gone off by now. “Entire buildings shift positions at night, there’s this dark fog everywhere. I know it sounds crazy-”

Lancer held up a hand. “I’ll have to stop you there. Nothing is ever too far fetched in this place, and I don’t like my students discrediting themselves before they get a chance to fully speak.” He paused, considering, before continuing with a grim tone. “Look, I know you won’t particularly like this answer, but do you think it possible you’re being haunted? It’s not unheard of for ghosts to become attached to a host here.”

“I don’t...” It wasn’t possible for ghosts to haunt other ghosts, was it?

“Before you decide, I suggest you talk to your parents. I know people your age don’t like to approach them for help, but they’re the biggest paranormal experts in town. You’ll find a solution there.”

Realizing that was the best response he was going to get, Danny slumped into his seat, disillusioned. “Alright, I’ll try bringing it up to them tonight.” 

“Good, and in the meantime, you know my office hours. I’m always open to helping you catch up.”

....

Danny had absolutely no intention of approaching his parents about his findings, confronting them was his very last resort. He remembered the incident with Youngblud, how their first instinct was to scare the crazy out of him, and he wasn’t keen on repeating it. 

Still, Lancer had unintentionally given him an idea, one he was surprised he hadn’t thought of before. If by any chance something was going on in Amity and his parents knew about it, they were sure to have kept data, information that the entire Fenton family was privy to. His parents were unconventional in the sense that their work was not kept secret from their children, all security activated by fingerprints or face recognition. 

It was, he knew, done with the hope that their kids would become just as interested in the study of the paranormal as they were. It was also, what they did not know, partly responsible for contributing to his accident. 

After double checking that his parents were not home, he snuck down to the lab, beelining his way to their work computer. As expected, it was easy as usual to log in, endless arrays of information at his disposal. To an untrained eye, his parent’s work was disorganized, even Vlad had said so. But he knew better, knew his way around their strangely named folders like he was reading the table of contents in a nonfiction novel. 

Ghost profiles, weaponry charts, data on present, past, and future projects, new developments...there. 

He clicked on the folder, apprehensive as it took a moment to load. Once it did, it took only a glance to tell that something was very, very wrong.

Unnatural levels of ectoplasm in the air, measurements at a high of-

Cognitive dissonance experienced by a reported 1 in 10 Amity citizens, signs of-

Missing teen, Ross Lucas, 16 years old, blonde hair, blue eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Polluted lake at Amity Central Park, no side effects reported, but water glows green-

Missing woman, 37 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Reported disorientation, home layout changed. Upon further questioning, memory loss is reported, no reminder of filing the report-

Minor detail: green tint to sky at certain points of the day-

Missing man, 22 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen in Amity Forest Reserve-

Poltergeist activity, Amity Police Station-

Missing teen, Jenny Lee, 15 years old-

Missing-

Missing-

-last seen in Amity Forest Reserve

From above, Danny heard the telltale rattle of the front door opening, lumbering footsteps and daintier ones tapping along the tile.

Acting on impulse, Danny shut down the computer, turning invisible and keeping quiet in case his parents approached. Sure enough, he heard them nearing the lab after a minute of rustling. He stood, holding his breath, while the Fenton’s chatter got nearer as they appeared. He noted that his dad carried a briefcase, unusual for a man who preferred his casual attire, one with the Amity Police Department seal along the bottom corner.

After what he had seen, he could only stare at the case in apprehension.

“Let’s handle this before the kids are home, Jack. I don’t want to scare them.”

“Why can’t we tell them? It’s dangerous right now, Mads. Vladdie wouldn’t risk the safety of his god kids for this.”

His mom sighed, plopping onto the desk chair and booting up the computer. “I want to as well. Especially Danny, he’s always sneaking off somewhere. I can’t imagine him leaving, seeing his name among the victims.”

“We don’t have to ask him for permission...”

“You’re right, we don’t. The kids know how to keep quiet.” Maddie went silent, gesturing over for the case. Jack laid it on the table, unlocking it with a quick passcode and handing her a series of documents. She placed them beside her, pulling up a series of weaponry profiles. 

“What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why he was so adamant about them not knowing. Danny more than Jazz. What could possibly be the issue of keeping them safe?”

“Vladdie thinks ahead. Maybe he was worried they would try solving this themselves. Do you want me to ready the vault?” Upon his wife’s nod, Jack made his way over to the section of the wall behind Danny, waving a hand over a sensor to reveal hidden sliding metal doors. From behind them, hundreds of weapons resided, all of various types. He grabbed two, planting them beside Maddie. “Anyhow, this is one of those rare times I admit I disagree with him. Let’s tell them tonight.”

His wife chuckled, amused at the prospect of Jack disobeying his dear Vlad. 

“That’s rare to hear.” She bit her lip, eyeing the sheet. “What a tragedy. There’s a group that’s gone missing, we haven’t had so many at one time.”

“That’s five people! What were they doing in there?”

“I don’t know, the forest is rumored to have more ghosts than usual. You know how teens are, maybe it was a dare. The question is, how is it possible that our devices state the victims are in the vicinity, but none of them have come out?”

“Perhaps they’re being held captive, or maybe, maybe they’ve become...”

Jack didn’t dare finish the sentence, but Danny knew what he meant to say. If something evil lurked within the reserve, a being that wouldn’t allow a human to live, it’s possible their spirit hadn’t moved on.

Trapped within its confines as a ghost.

“I’m holding onto hope that’s not the case. We’ll get them out Jack, we’ve got Amity’s biggest experts joining us in the raid tonight. Vlad himself will be there, it’ll be alright.”

Deciding he’d heard enough, Danny kicked off, uncaring of the clatter of beakers he left in his wake. There was someone he needed to see, a person who owed him an explanation and who deserved the sucker punch of their afterlife.

His parent’s were optimistic, and whatever raid they spoke of obviously included thorough planning, but if there was anything he’d learned about fighting the paranormal, it was that one was not sure if those on the front lines would make it out alive.

He couldn’t allow that, he had placed that responsibility onto himself, and he would be damned if someone else would have to bear it.

[ellewords]

Atsumu at parties is a sight to behold, but it’s in a sad way? He is the life of the party and can keep it going for hours, but anyone with a trained eye can see that it’s all artificial. Sometimes, while he’s egging everyone on to dance or take shots or something else kind of wild, you can see him crack just a tiny bit. Whenever it starts to become a little more obvious, he turns it up a notch and tries to pull off stupid shit that will make him the talk of the town for being such a good host/party-goer so that people are too distracted to notice that he’s slipping. But as exhausting and fake-feeling as it is for him to keep up his facade of being on top of the world on for such a long time, he doesn’t let up until he is able to leave or the very last person does. Then, he almost becomes a shell of himself—grumpier than normal, quieter, slower to respond.

If the party isn’t at his place, he always drives separately from the people he goes with because he knows he’ll spend hours after either driving around in a state of half-awareness or he’ll find a desolate area where he can just blast a playlist full of songs that help him feel emotions again. By the next day, he’s back to his normal self, and it’s like anyone that noticed was imagining it when it happened. If the party is at his place, though, he’s even worse. On top of all of the other things, he slowly becomes more (passive) aggressive as his patience wears thin, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Because of how badly it weighs on him, Osamu and some of his close friends have made a system of keeping people away from him at all costs as he starts cleaning up the mess because the last time they didn’t, the student population (whether in hs or college) had a lot to say about him the next day and none of it was very nice. He nearly had a panic attack when he realized what had happened, and it took almost a whole week to smooth it over, but Astumu stressed about it for weeks after, making him more insecure and tense until he was finally convinced that everything was back to normal.

I don’t think he starts to actually enjoy parties and be himself at them until well after he’s out of school.

—  from elle ! anon i—- the way this kind of broke my heart... i blame it on my soft spot for atsumu :<< ngl i stared at a wall for a good five minutes after reading this because despite how painful it is, i can also just imagine it. which ig makes it hurt more?? aaah idk but thank you so much for sending this in, i felt so much in the best possible way ;-; my little scenario feat. yn based on your hc will be under the cut (as usual) and i hope you are having a wonderful day <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

you were a somewhat constant in miya atsumu’s life, having gone to the same high school as him and now managing the team he’s playing for professionally. you like to think that you’d been with him through all the highs, no matter how big or small, — through every single test that he passed, every single match that he had won, every joke he made that landed, whenever he calls you in the middle of the night just to say that he had cooked without burning down his entire apartment. but all of that just meant that you had been with him through the lows too — when a play doesn’t go as he had planned, when his sets just weren’t getting hit by his spikers, when he had accidentally broken the vase you had gotten him as a housewarming gift, when he’s at a party that his teammate had thrown.

he’s dancing on a table, drunk off the attention, people cheering him on as he moved to the beat of whatever pop song bokuto had chosen to play. but you knew better than to play into the act he was putting up. you saw the falter in his smile, the way his knees quivered, the brief moments wherein the mask falls.

you shake your head. he hasn’t changed at all, has he? you’d think after graduating high school, after a couple of years of playing volleyball professionally that he’d finally let the walls he had built up to crumble just a little. 

“what’re ya doin’ ‘ere all alone?” atsumu was now by your side, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

you sighed, it seems like he had chosen you to be the object of his attention for the next few minutes, “having fun.”

“standin’ in a corner? not even a drink in hand?” atsumu questioned, smirk plastered on his face.

“what?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm and even, “doesn’t seem like you are having fun either.”

miya atsumu had long decided that he hated you. well, he didn’t hate you. he hated the way that you could read him. it shouldn’t have been a surprise, you’d known him for years now. 

there’s a flash of emotion in his eyes, so quick that you couldn’t even recognize what it was. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means what it means, atsumu.” with a shrug of your shoulders, you turn to leave.

—

the party was winding down and atsumu was getting antsier by the minute. his stunts had been getting more and more out of control, the last one being an attempt at a backflip over the sofa. you had never been more thankful for meian’s presence until that very moment. it was then that everybody had decided to call it a night, it was half past two in the morning anyways.

atsumu spots you by the kitchen counter, attempting to help bokuto clean up the mess the party had left in his home. his steps are slower, more tentative than anything else. he’s always known you saw right through him, atsumu now wonders what made you actually speak up on it. why now of all times? in his head, you had come to a silent agreement.

“mind if i help ya with that?”

“go ahead.” you spoke, handing him a spare trash bag. for a while, the two of you work in silence, navigating around each other to pick up the various read solo cups, alcohol bottles, and bags of snacks that littered the floor and counter. it’s quiet, with most of the guests gone and bokuto cleaning up the backyard with hinata and sakusa. 

“what did ya mean?” the silence is broken by atsumu, tone devoid of any kind of emotion. he sounded hollow, voice low and quiet. “earlier. i still don’t understand.”

you bit your lip, not exactly sure how to proceed. it had been something that you always wanted to confront him on. now, when the opportunity presented itself, your throat had gone dry — every single word getting stuck in the back of it.

and he’s just waiting for you to respond, matching your gaze with his own. atsumu thinks he’s being intimidating, but in reality, there’s a subtle kind of desperation to them. he holds his breath, hoping you don’t notice the quiver in his bottom lip.

but you do, just like you noticed the way his fingertips trembled. “i'm just saying, ‘tsumu, it wouldn’t hurt to be yourself. nobody’s gonna fault you for doing so.”

atsumu takes a step back, mouth parting at your words. truthfully, he didn’t know what to expect. this was the way he had been for years, he can’t go changing now, can he? atsumu’s unsure if he even knows how to. but here you were in front of him, probably just as tired as he was, finally calling him out instead of doing damage control — apologizing to people on his behalf, like you did when he had gone too far during high school. the facade had faded almost entirely. 

“slowly but surely, atsumu.” you smiled, a genuine one. a smile unlike the one he forced himself to keep for the past couple of hours. “do it for yourself, you’ll breathe easier that way.”

 and he just wants to ask you more, have you tell him exactly what it is he needs to do. but hinata was calling you, he was your ride home after all. but atsumu wanted more from your conversation, almost offering to be the one to drive you back to your apartment. unfortunately, you were already stepping around him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder before exiting the door with hinata.

and just like that a crack started to appear on his walls, not large enough to make them fall, but it was a start. slowly, but surely. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like at a party?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[senadimell]

If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.

@deathdaydungeon, here you are!

After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.

Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.

As foils for each others’ teaching methods

The way they deal with social disadvantage

Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy

1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.

However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.

Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.

“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!

My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”

DH 679, The Prince’s Tale

Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.

Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and  actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.

“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”

“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.

It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:

2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.

Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.

Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.

The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.

Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4

 This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.

I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale

Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.

...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword.

“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”

DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale

It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.

Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.

“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112

Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.

Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.

In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.

The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.

‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.

‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)

Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:

“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address  a poor recommendation.

DH 665, The Prince’s Tale

When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.

Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.

“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”

DH 673, The Prince’s Tale

In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”

DH 674, The Prince’s Tale

Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:

“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”

DH 675 The Prince’s Tale

She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)

I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).

Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.

Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:

...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--

Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

“Don’t kill me!”

DH 676, The Prince’s Tale

He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.

Then when Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish..I wish I were dead....”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.

DH 678, The Prince’s Tale

Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.

So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.

Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.

Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.

Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.

3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.

Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.

Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.

DH 697, The Forest Again

You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?

Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.

They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.

Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.

PoA 243, The Patronus

In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.

“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”

But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--

And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.

PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret

So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.)  It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.

On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

....

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added

It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.

You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”

“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.

OotP

Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.

Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.

Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints

How do we evaluate this:

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5

DH 213, The Bribe

and this?

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

DH 758, Seventeen years later

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.

I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6

You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world

Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.

Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.

What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’

On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.

Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....

...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...

He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.

To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.

DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale

He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.

Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.

Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.

Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.

* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.

**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.

*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.

****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.

The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of".  Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.

*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.

“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.

Hermione then asks about Tonks.

“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”

...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”

...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?

DH 213, The Bribe

Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.

I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.

******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.

*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.  

[bigfan-fanfic]

High School Musical feels to me like a very gay narrative, and doing a close reading reveals this fact. Long post ahead, with analysis of lyrics and story beats that contribute to a queer reading of the story

Basically, Troy is the repressed gay who hides in the closet, and Gabriella is the outcast nerd who is just discovering the gay, never knowing before then how she doesn't fit in. She talks about how she has been outcast before, because she was different. While in and of itself this is not particularly specific to the queer experience, Gabriella’s journey of becoming comfortable in her skin is prevalent to the story and a queer reading of HSM. Likewise, Troy’s growth in his confidence to do what he wants even though it’s easier and more comfortable to bow to societal pressure is also queer in its telling.

In "Start of Something New,” they both have that realization that this thing they're feeling is so right for them, they feel a belonging. :It feels so right/to be here with you” and “I feel in my heart/the start of something new” seems less to me an anthem for love at first sight and more simply the recognition of this feeling of attraction to someone - and despite Troy and Gabriella being ostensibly cishet, the combination of this song and the use of drama/the arts as a stand in for homosexuality in this reading make it feel as though both are nervous but excited in discovering their queerness - another interesting thing is that each of the love songs in HSM are gender neutral, and thus play the same if sung by two people of the same gender as by a hetero couple.

This moment is a growth for Gabriella’s queer journey - prior to the song, she is nervous and afraid to socialize, but afterwards she is open and excited to discuss with Troy their experience and be friendly. Troy is a little more closed-off, foreshadowing his journey of trying to stay in the closet - he makes a point of saying how this was something he’s never done before and is not a typical part of his character.

They meet later, and Gabriella's a little more confident, although not technically "out" yet - she doesn’t hide her interest in the “singing thing” and though she doesn’t want to be seen as the Freaky Math Girl, she does have no qualms about showing off her intelligence in class. Basically, despite this being a new territory for her, she is more comfortable in her skin. Troy, meanwhile, basically thinks about his gay experience but hides back in the comfortable closet, returning to being a jock’s jock and ridiculing Ryan and Sharpay, the story’s flamboyant representations of the “out” gays.

Ryan and Sharpay are interesting villains, and they read to me as what might be termed the LGBT+ gatekeepers, since we have drama/the arts as our allegorical stand-in for the queer community. Ryan and Sharpay are unapologetically gay, but they are also used to the ostracism they recieve and thus as a reaction, they have become fiercely protective of their safe space - Sharpay’s fear of the musical being taken over here reads as the worry of LGBT spaces being co-opted and appropriated by cishet people and thus returning them to marginalization.

The song "What I've Been Looking For" is a big jazzy pop number for out gays Ryan and Sharpay, further referencing their absolute comfort in who they are. However, when Troy and Gabriella sing it, it's a soft romantic ballad because they're still on the journey to discovery of their queerness. The lyrics are really gay in "thought I was alone/with no one to hold/but you were always there beside me" - the song is about finding a love when you thought you never could, and if that doesn't scream gay I don't know what does. Despite Kelsi’s insistence that Troy and Gabriella’s way is how it is “supposed” to be sung, the song works just as well as a hopeful romantic tune about the future as it does a celebration of finding acceptance of any kind, even platonic. Again there’s a reference to “this feeling like no other” - this song follows up “Start of Something New” as a continuation of the journey to self-acceptance, and speaks of finding comfort in the experience of meeting those like oneself -  “I never had someone/that knows me like you do/they way you do.”

“Get’cha Head in the Game” is here to show the environment Troy lives in - he’s being constantly pressured, and the song is fast paced and imperative. It also provides a contrast in lyric theme, referring to the “head” instead of feelings and heart. Troy’s tonal shift in the middle of the song where he sings about his heart feels like now that he’s had this gay experience and knows this truth about himself, he can’t go back fully into the closet.

The posting of the callback list feels very much to me like Troy and Gabriella being publically outed as queer. When Troy and Gabriella are "outed," there is a reaction of support and others "coming out" in solidarity, but those voices are shouted down by those seeking not to upset the status quo. The song is chaotic and loud, with walls being broken down and students from different groups merging - Chad mentions later in dialogue that the social hierarchy is breaking down. Interestingly enough, despite the general tone of the song being disapproving and admonishing, everybody joins in the dance and shows support, until Sharpay literally shouts everybody down. This kinda feels to me like saying that the majority of people would be accepting and tolerant, except for a minority of vocal voices who dominate the conversation and push their agenda of hatred.

Homophobic Chad manipulates Troy back into the closet to protect the status quo, and a heartbroken Gabriella sings about how she "thought [he was her] fairy tale," and that really says to me like a gay thinking they've found a relationship only to be heartbroken by realizing the person was straight or too closeted to continue on. She “confused [her] feelings with the truth” and thought “[he] felt it too,” but luckily the ensuing fallout of Gabriella and Troy forced apart and into their respective closets makes their straight friends realize their horrible mistake and do their best to repent, becoming “allies” to them.

“Bop To the Top” is just a fun number, again showcasing Ryan and Sharpay as confident in who they are. However, the interesting part is that Ryan and Sharpay’s world is breaking down around them as well, just as it is for the straight people. Sharpay snaps at Zeke because she can’t quite comprehend this guy from the straight side reaching out to befriend someone of the queer set, and her walls go up. In her own way, she’s trying to restore order as well - however instead of forcing Troy and Gabriella apart, she instead tries to make it so they must prove their commitment to one side or the other - making it so that their activities with their friends take place at the same time as the callback - basically a choice between their closets or the queer community, but with the help of their allies, Troy and Gabriella bring everything crashing together - though the straight majority floods the theater, they do so in support of the community she has protected. At this moment, Gabriella and Troy have overcome the external queer-phobia.

And then the big emotional number at the audition, "Breaking Free," really feels gay to me, in that the song is about the world trying to tear this couple apart but with their faith in each other and themselves, they can rise to new heights. The verses each feel like an anthem to a queer experience in fighting against societal pressure and having confidence in who you are. “The world can see us/in a way that’s different than who we are” is about the pressure to conform to gender and sexuality norms, “but your faith, it gives me strength/strength to believe” they can break free and be themselves. In particular the bridge where they sing "more than you/more than me/not a want/but a need" gives me "born this way" vibes and describes the need to be who you are even when others might not understand. And yet, even in all of this, they are supported and tolerated - the audience dances in the seats and claps to the beat and supports them.

And then "We're All In This Together" is of course the fantasy of tolerance and overcoming bigotry within and without the LGBT community, where everyone is singing together in harmony, where there is nothing but acceptance of the differences that make us all special and unique, with the recognition that we are all human. 

[sxvxrxssnape]

In The Midst of Tribulations

Snapetober 2020: Day 8, 9, 10 (Secret Injury, Grief, “You’re Bleeding” Being headmaster is such a lonely job and grieving hurts so much when you’re not allowed to do it. Implied/Referenced Self-Harm.

He doesn’t feel much of anything today.

He’s standing in his quarters, the door locked and warded thrice. There’s a man standing in front of him and his pallid face is staring back. This man is wearing black robes that reach the floor; dull gold thread runs along the hem and down the front of his outer robe, embroidering protective runes into the expensive fabric. He likes them and he wants to tell this man.  

He can’t.

His words feel caught in his throat and he finds he cannot speak. He stares down at his feet and sees the same trail of runes stitched onto his own robes. He blinks and looks up again.

The man is still staring. 

He lifts up his robes, just enough to reveal the hem of black trousers he cannot part with. The Dark Lord despises muggle clothing, so he chooses to wear robes long enough to cover his secret. He wonders what will happen if the Dark Lord finds out. He wonders if he even cares.

He likes trousers. 

They make him feel safe, secure in his existence. He likes the way they make him feel protected, covered, and hidden away from anyone he doesn’t wish to see him. His coat makes him feel the same. He doesn’t wish for anyone to see him.

He can’t allow anyone to see him. 

He drapes a summer cloak over his shoulders and pins it in place. He could go without, but he needs the weight of it around him, needs something to ground himself with. He casts a silencing charm on his robes and shoes and then a disillusionment spell on himself.

The man standing in front of him does the same. 

He blinks again and stares at the frame that wrapped around the dressing mirror. He wonders how long it had been there. He thinks of the other man, of his reflection, and wonders if there’s a universe where he exists without the deep lines of exhaustion carved into his face. If there’s a version of him that doesn’t look so hollow. 

He ventures out of his chambers and walks the corridors, silent and invisible. He feels like a ghost, has felt like one since he stood in the Astronomy Tower and cast that spell days ago. He’s desperate to be seen. He can’t be seen. 

The castle feels heavy and there is a sorrow that seeps into the very walls, as if the old stone were mourning just as deeply as everyone else. The lights seem dimmer and there is a haze that has settled over everything.

He wonders if it’s real.

Outside, the light is blinding and it feels wrong for the sky to be so blue. There isn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun is shining. It feels wrong. Doesn’t the world know there is nothing worthwhile left to soak up the warmth of the sun’s rays? Doesn’t the world understand evil will always prevail? Doesn’t the world care at all?

The haze is still there.

He allows his legs to carry him. He blinks and finds himself standing near the Black Lake. There is a white marble tomb where there used to be none, with a smattering of golden chairs before it. Most of the chairs are empty now. He sees Minerva speaking with some delegates from the Ministry, can hear more than see Hagrid’s crumpled form sobbing. He spies Pomona and Flitwick and Horace huddled near a tree, the glint of silver flask being passed between the three of them. Harry Potter is sitting alone, near the shore of the Black Lake and he’s staring emptily into space. 

He blinks and now he’s standing next to the boy. He doesn’t dare breathe, only watches him for a few moments. He wonders how keeping him in the dark, when he looks so shattered, will bring forth the defeat of the Dark Lord. He’s wearing the same face as the man in the mirror, but Potter has friends, has family, and Severus hopes that will be enough. 

He wonders how he himself will complete his end of the task. 

He blinks again and now he’s standing in front of the marble tomb. He puts his hands against the cold stone and stands there, until his hands and feet feel as numb as the rest of him. The blue sky has finally understood the nature of the day and has become dark. Stars twinkle and he thinks of sparkling eyes behind half moon spectacles. 

His arm burns. 

–

He doesn’t feel much of anything, anymore. 

He walks the corridors in stony silence, enters the Great Hall, and takes his place at the center of the head table. It still feels wrong, just as wrong as it had felt a week ago, as he lowers himself into the golden chair; wrong to sit in his place, wrong to face the fearful faces of the students, wrong to address them as Headmaster of this school. 

So he doesn’t.

He only taps his wand against his plate and watches solemnly as the five tables begin to fill with silver platters of food. The hum of conversation is soft, but a small part of him is relieved they even talk at all. 

That feeling is short-lived.

The Carrows are sitting to his right, whispering between themselves as they discuss the plans for the night’s detentions. He can trust them with his Slytherins, as much as his heart protests against the very thought. He cannot allow himself to doubt that, cannot allow himself to chip away at his defenses. He is the only one who stands between them all and the Dark Lord and he cannot do that if he is breaking down. 

So he feels nothing as he reminds himself  that despite his protectiveness over his snakes, they can handle themselves. They’re smart, they know not to push. He reminds himself the Carrows would do little to harm them and then thinks about how to keep the other houses safe. 

He hears mention of Hannah Abbott’s name. She’s a quiet girl, a Hufflepuff who would always forget to bring a hair tie with her during potions. Her notes were full of little drawings of plants in the margins. She liked to draw pretty borders on the labels of her phials. She had been pulled out of school last year, when news of her mother’s death broke. 

Corban Yaxley had been responsible for that.

“Throw Abbott into the Forbidden Forest,” he interrupts with a bored voice. He doesn’t turn to look at them.

Amycus sits up with a start. “Oh, I didn’t even consider the forest.” he muses excitedly. “Might as well send the lot of them. There’s six, might be fun to see if any survive the night.”

“One can only hope they don’t.” Severus shrugs and directs his wand to pour a glass of wine. He doesn’t drink out of it, only studies the ruby plum of the Malbec as it swirls around the glass. He can feel Minerva glaring daggers at him from his left. 

He ignores her, and the space she has chosen to put between them with an empty chair feels bigger now. 

He glances further down the table and makes the briefest of eye contact with the groundskeeper. Hagrid is staring back at him, his brows furrowed in anger and his mouth set with determination. Clearly, he had been listening. Good. 

He returns his attention to the wine. None of the other staff members are speaking; to him, to each other, at all. He doesn’t mind the silence. Sure, a distant part of him hates it, hates how everything has become so convoluted and messy and broken, but he can handle the silence. He can handle their anger too. 

He blinks and dinner is over.

He stands up and looks over the students once more. “Curfew begins in twenty minutes.” he announces, his voice carrying in the echoes of the suddenly silent room. “Do not miss it.” He walks away, shoulders tense.

There is a weight perched on top of him and it is only growing heavier. He enters the circular room of the headmaster’s office, his office now, and looks around. Suddenly, he feels very off-center. Everything is the same here.

Yet, everything is so different. 

He takes a deep breath and refuses, absolutely refuses to look at the portrait. He can feel eyes staring at him and it makes his skin crawl. He sits down at the desk, deliberately keeps his back to the portrait, and stares at his hands. They’re trembling. 

He forces them to still and strengthens the walls of Occlumency he keeps ever present in his mind. It is an exhausting feat, to constantly be on guard, to constantly hold up a mental block against his emotions, his thoughts, his conscience - but really, the exhaustion is a gift in of itself; a blessing to always be far too tired to dream. 

He blinks and now there is knocking at the door.

He finally risks a glance behind him and is relieved to see Albus Dumbledore has made his leave. He casts a glamour over the ornate frame, turns the empty space into a painting of the stars, and then allows the door to open. 

Alecto enters the room, tells him the students are gathering around Dumbledore’s tomb. He nods and follows behind her, and the corridors and castle walls seem to blur, seem to melt into grey matter. There is a roaring sound in his ears. 

The sky is painted in a brilliant orange, with streaks of purple and pink as the sun begins to set. Once again, it feels wrong. The sky is too bright, too colorful a canvas to be set behind the white marble of Albus’ final resting spot. Or perhaps it’s just right. 

There is a group of students huddled together and watching their approach with apprehensive eyes. Minerva McGonagall stands in front of them and stares defiantly. There are flowers decorating the tomb. He wonders what the reason may be; today isn’t anything important.

He realizes then he doesn’t quite know what day it is. 

He also realizes he doesn’t care.

He stares at the flowers and feels a spark of anger. Has he not already done enough to prove himself loyal to the Dark Lord? Has he not done enough to paint himself as the villain in this story? Must he keep digging this - for lack of better word - grave, in the eyes of someone he once considered his friend. 

“I see your new job has given you the luxury of affording new clothes.” Minerva speaks up first, eyeing his robes up and down. They’re the same ones he had worn to the funeral months ago that no one knew he had attended. 

Severus remains silent. 

“No longer willing to dirty yourself with anything as demeaning as muggle clothing?” she presses on, her voice harsh with implications. “A proper wizard now.”

He thinks of the trousers hidden underneath and says nothing, merely raises an apathetic eyebrow. He pulls out his wand and twirls it absentmindedly, staring at the flowers. He refuses to look at Minerva’s face.

“You wouldn’t dare.” she whispers.

He waves his wand and casts a silent spell, watching alongside everyone else as tendrils of fire snake their way towards the tomb and incinerate every last petal. When nothing but ash remains, he contemplates a cleaning spell, but decides that could translate to taking care of the marble, so he lets it remain. Someone else will take care of it.

It isn’t his place anyway.

He holds onto his wand and wonders how to address the crowd. He wishes he knew why they were gathered here, what day it could be and decides it ultimately doesn’t matter when Minerva pulls out her own wand.

“How dare you!” she yells and he feels the sudden slashing of pain on his arm. A modified cutting hex, no doubt, and a silent one at that. He’s mildly impressed, if not mostly annoyed at the rip on the sleeve of his robe. It’s warded to protect him against curses, but Minerva already knew that, could tell from the second she studied the runes embroidered on the fabric. He wonders what harmless spell she just altered to circumvent the warding. 

Neither Alecto nor the students have noticed, so he keeps silent. His robes are black after all, and are hiding any blood he feels seeping into the fabric. Minerva only stares at him, waiting. He finally faces her and the roaring in his ears gets louder. 

He doesn’t think it’s possible to hate anyone more than she does him.

He tries to speak, but his voice sounds light-years away. It doesn’t sound like him and he doesn’t quite know what he’s just said. All he knows is the contempt, the betrayal, the utter hatred that burns in Minerva’s eyes.

He turns to leave.

“After everything he ever did for you!” Minerva cries out and Severus suddenly feels as if he’s been dunked underwater. “This is how you choose to repay him! He saw you as a son, you know. He gave you a place in the world where you had none and instead you turned around and became the monster he tried to save you from. He should have just let you burn.” 

His face remains blank as he asks, “Are you done?” and then he makes his leave. He blinks and he’s back in the headmaster’s office. The door is already warded, but he casts two more. The rushing in his ears is louder than ever.

He feels his arm burn and for a second he fears he is being summoned, until he realizes it isn’t the Mark that’s burning. He removes his outer robe, thinking about how he’ll need to owl it to Lucius to have it mended; he doesn’t know enough about runes to fix it himself without mucking up the warding. He pulls up the sleeves of his inner robe and stares dully at the expanse of skin. One arm is tainted with the deep red of the skull and snake, the other with a four inch-long laceration; both are littered with tiny scars and burns from years of potion-making.

He can feel his defenses crumbling.

He has to get a grip, has to force that numbness to return and stay, He isn’t allowed to feel pain over this, isn’t allowed to break down. His chest aches, his throat, Merlin his throat feels like something sharp is raking its way down and ravaging him from the inside out. He grips the edge of the desk, tries to take in a deep breath, and instead lets out a ragged sob. He blinks and now there are scratches on his arms, thin and long and criss-crossing over his skin. Some are bleeding, droplets of crimson escaping from the tears he made on his skin and intermingling with what still dripped from the hex Minerva sent his way.

He takes another deep breath and tries to steady himself. He stares at the marks on his skin and scowls at the mess he was making. 

“Severus, my boy.” the portrait dares to speak up and he freezes.

Merlin, his chest hurts. 

“What do you want.” he scowls, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You’re bleeding.” Albus states simply, staring down at his arms with a forlorn expression. “That one there isn’t self-inflicted.”

“No.” Severus answers, and his voice is hollow. 

The pain he had been so desperate to hold off is escaping him in waves now. He can not breathe through it any longer, can not force it behind a wall of Occlumency. He can not bear the look on Minerva’s face, can not bear the self-hatred he can feel pooling inside of him as he thinks of the flowers he had burned, can not bear the weight of what is expected of him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It must be done.” 

He only wishes it didn’t have to be done alone. 

He killed Albus Dumbledore, that much he can accept. Perhaps he can even convince himself that it was done out of mercy. He had spared an innocent child and helped a suffering old man rest. But Merlin, it fucking hurt to be the one to do it, to be the villain, to lose not only his mentor, but also Minerva, to have to do this all alone.

He has no one left. 

No one but a sentient portrait that serves as a forceful reminder of how wrong everything has gone in the last few months. He feels as if a small part of him died that night, and now that little piece was slowly killing the rest of him too.

He casts a silencing charm on the door. 

–

He feels too much today.

He walks the corridors in stony silence, enters the Great Hall, and takes his place at the center of the head table. Bandages soaked in Essence of Dittany are wrapped around his arms, the sleeves of his robes pulled down to his knuckles. 

He pours himself a cup of coffee and stares at the ripples the pitch black brew makes in his trembling hands. He considers adding milk, but when he takes a sip, he tastes nothing, so he figures it isn’t worth the effort. 

There is an empty chair between him and Minerva again; once again the gap feels miles wide. He chances a glance in her direction and is met with cold eyes and a chilling blankness. She is looking through him, has no anger left to spare for him. He’s lost her. 

His chest threatens to ache and he feels himself unraveling, but he swallows it down with another sip of coffee. No one is allowed to know how much it all hurts, so he keeps his own face stoic and stares ahead. He thinks about how the portrait of Phineas Black came back with an update on Potter’s plans this morning; he has work to do soon. His throat hurts with the effort of keeping it together and he fears this will be the end of things. He’s lost too much to ruin everything over simple emotions. He focuses on Occluding and lets himself become empty. He blinks and breakfast is over, the Great Hall emptying as students leave for class.

The other staff members get up as well and walk away. No one looks in his direction, no one speaks a word. The dirty dishes start to disappear as the house elves summon them back to the kitchens. 

There is a buzzing in his ears again.

————-

a/n: flower destruction scene was inspired by a throwaway line in full stop by acedie on ao3

please, please let me know how this was! im so hesitant about posting this one.

[okay-victoria]

Status of Women in The Empire

Summary: LN gives some evidence women have a better status than they did in OTL Germany. It gives little to nothing in the way of evidence that we are in post-sexual-revolution territory. It presents little enough evidence generally that you can use this issue in your own story as you wish; however, using how humans actually work as your baseline, it would be a very definite handwave to think that gender equality is much more than marginally better than OTL would have been at the time, or that Tanya wouldn’t be negatively affected by it in some significant ways in daily life. On the other hand, the original story handwaves an eight year old enrolling in a modern military and getting promoted to a mid-ranking officer by age eleven, so as a reader, I’m obviously pretty down for handwaving some realism for the sake of a good story.

Evidence:

V1/C1

“The armed forces have a practical exception in place for just about everything.” <= I think in fanon the entire Empire as seen as this sort of “everything we do is logical” territory where gender discrimination would have had to be eliminated, but in reality it’s presented as the military, and they are making an exception for a rare and incredibly militarily useful type of person to be able to be put to use by them without gender discrimination stopping it.

V1/C4

“But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students” <= YMMV, but I would not describe modern society as a world of “ladies first”. Do people do/say it to hark back to pre-1960s chivalry? Sure. Is it really the standard we live by anymore? Not so much. Tanya seems to pretty definitely still be living in those days.

“Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men.” <= this is notable because it is said when Tanya is in War College, at which point the war has been going on for long enough that available mages have been conscripted, so there is no selection bias that men have simply chosen to pursue a career as a mage more often than women. This is actually weirdly important because it either means:

Magic talent is like, an X chromosome trait and men are thus more likely to have it [in which case, it would probably be taken as natural evidence that men are superior and worsen the gender equality situation]; or

There in fact is a Youjo Konki-esque exception for married women and/or mothers. A nation has to still be relatively in the infancy of gender equality if Female Mage #102 has children with Infantryman #1,000,102 and the military decides that since it can’t leave these children parentless, it has to conscript the dude who is substitutable for literally anyone else and not the human weapon.

Tanya has a long-ish reflection on women in the military. Important points are, the rules have only been overhauled recently to make it practical for women to serve in combat. Women in combat didn’t really exist prior to this war, and women in the military were basically limited to noble/imperial families having their daughters serve out nominal duties. Whatever boost women as a whole get from serving in a capacity that people are used to seeing men in, it has not had time to transform society all that much.

V2/C2

“Women administrators are not uncommon, but in the Empire where gender equality still has a ways to go, their qualifications are always questioned.” <= YMMV as to what degree this is meant to be a statement on something that still troubles women in modern times, or something that indicates gender equality is not particularly close to modern.

V2/C5

“After all, now that I’ve been turned into a girl, I’m faced with this annoying military framework where men are superior. Just the thought of my promotions being blocked by an invisible glass ceiling is enough to dampen any desire I might have to act all girlish for propaganda…apart from that, the Empire’s personnel system has adapted extremely meritocratic principles for the war, in a way, so I’m more or less satisfied with it.” <= sort of same as above, YMMV on whether this is just Tanya realizing what life is like for a woman in modern society or meant as a “no, it was worse” point.

However, I will say this: I highly, highly doubt any men chosen for high military honors were photographed doing anything other than looking ultra manly in uniform. Women serving in modern militaries are not forced to put on showy dresses when they get their photos taken, they are treated, at least in photos, with the same respect as their male colleagues. The fact that anyone found it appropriate to only photograph the recipient of the highest military honor in cute girl clothes speaks to some deep discomfort with anyone outside the military seeing women not doing what they’re supposed to.

V6/C6

“The Imperial Army has already tapped all the population pools that can be mobilized, but it still has two options. One is to begin the general conscription of women. That said, they’ve already been mobilized in the industrial sector.” <= YMMV, again, on how willing a modern country would be to conscript women to fight a world war, but if you are as deep into a world war as the Empire is and no one’s trying it, at the least we can say the Empire is not the bastion of cold logic it fanonically is outside the military. Also, it pretty much seems like women working in large numbers has only become a thing because all the guys are off fighting, which very much sticks us in pre-1950s territory.

V8/C1

Andrew reacts surprised to see a female reporter from the Federation, and reflects that they are quite liberal in some ways <= while this is a non-Imperial guy, given his familiarity with the Empire, it would seem weird that if the Empire was particularly more advanced than his country that he would still be so surprised.

Other Working Knowledge Your Author Has On This Subject:

Women serving in the military, while certainly helpful to the cause of gender equality, by itself is not going to create a broad-based transformation in society. That sounds a bit like saying: As we all know, the US dropped any racist laws or regulations as soon as we started allowing non-white units in the military. After Elizabeth I serving as the Ruler of England, a very manly role that her tiny woman-brain didn’t fuck up too bad, the people who thought women were naturally stupider than men were quickly relegated to the margins and gender discrimination mostly became more of an annoyance than a real hindrance to the average woman’s goals. It just doesn’t work that way. And I’m not here to say that the US is a post-gender paradise, but the US, which has never had a woman president and is pretty slow about expanding military opportunities for women, nonetheless is a lot better on the gender equality front than some countries that have had women leaders and allow women a fuller range of military opportunities. There’s a lot more complexity to it than: My country respects military => military allows women => guess I’m going to stop being sexist

The same goes for something that isn’t about gender equality at large but how it relates to Tanya: The view that while gender equality may be non-advanced, Tanya specifically is exempt from dealing with it because she is “one of the boys”. It Does Not Work Like That. At All. And the further you go back in time, the less it worked like that. Within the military specifically Tanya will probably be alright, but society at large punishes men & women that break gender roles as brazenly as she does more than it rewards them. This is an entire essay unto itself, Google is your friend.

This is going to sound silly and facetious but I’m being dead serious, from what little we know of fashion in the YS world, it matches what would have been the case in the real world in the WW1 era. If society at large was really that different, that wouldn’t be the case.

There is no canon evidence that magic has made any scientific advancements outside the military sphere of influence. Before the advent of things like dishwashers, vacuums, microwaves, especially refrigerators, and especially laundry machines being common household items, the ideal family model was: one person makes money outside home, one person takes care of house. There wasn’t enough time in the day to work and run a household. Many women in poor households had to work, generally at the expense of being able to keep their own household running smoothly, and even then they often worked in capacities that allowed them to be at home or ones that allowed them the flexibility to take care of some of this stuff. It really just isn’t possible to have a society remotely approaching equality when one gender is automatically assigned to home unless necessary.

Same goes for something else - contraception. Women having access to a contraceptive device that they control is a major component of setting a society on a path towards equality. Birth control pills didn’t become widely available until the 1960s. Without being unable to at least kind of balance the outcome of sex (even between married couples) between men and women, women as a class have a hard time escaping from the housewife-mother archetype.

Not to get too political here, but the Empire matches OTL Germanic-Prussianness too much to ignore. Living under a military-worshipping, religiously-inclined traditional monarchy has not, in any real life example I’m aware of, gone hand-in-hand with anything other than a fairly conservative and patriarchal society, and I feel like the burden of proof is on the other side to explain why that isn’t the case in the Empire, and our original author makes approximately zero effort to do this.

Being X turns Tanya into a woman for the purpose of making her life worse. It seems simply illogical [although I guess Being X’s decision-making skills are questionable] that he would then drop her into a world that had undergone broad-based gender reform instead of a world that was just barely tweaked from our own in such a way that it would allow Tanya to serve in the military.

My conclusion: the most likely option is that gender equality is exactly enough better as it needs to be to allow the military to convince the lawmakers that they should be able to use a very rare & dangerous ability to be part of their arsenal without respect to gender, or age, and no more. That difference is not likely to make life for women significantly better than it was in the equivalent OTL time period.

[citadelspires]

Finally Following Through On Explaining That MP100 Lumity AU

Aight so a few days ago I promised to describe the basic layout for this Mob Psycho 100 Lumity AU I’ve been thinking about. This is that.

A marginal bit of context up front. You don’t need to have watched MP100 in order to understand any of the things I’m about to say, but I do recommend watching it anyway because it’s a wonderful show and an absolutely essential experience. Anyway, for those who haven’t watched MP100 this is all the context you need, for those who have you can just skip to the next paragraph. All y’all need to know is that MP100 features people called espers and they all have these vaguely defined "psychic powers." The actual abilities tied to these powers vary from person to person, some people just have telekinesis, some people have special moves and abilities they've trained, there are people with fire, people who are really fast, a dude who's psychically reinforced a plastic sword to be infinitely sharp and durable, just, loads of stuff. All espers have the ability to see spirits, which are, ya know, the spirits of people who have died, though the level at which their humanity is still intact varies. As a general rule the more powerful you were in life (particularly in the psychic capacity) the more powerful your spirit is. Aight now to the actual stuff.

We’re gonna start with the Blight family cause they were the first people I really got figured out for this thing so it’s just fitting.  The Blight family has had at least one powerful esper per generation as far back as anyone can remember. They're an overwhelming presence in the esper community of the city they live in, though most people without psychic powers aren't really aware of their existence, as the Blights have always viewed themselves as above regular humans. For this reason a long time ago the Blight family gathered with a group of other powerful esper families to found a school exclusively for young espers so their children would not have to associated with "the ungifted." In the time since the family has relinquished a good deal of its hold over the school, having deemed directly running it a waste of their resources, as long it sticks around they don't really care. That being said they still hold a large amount of authority in the community. 

 Edric and Emira are both naturally gifted espers who've never had trouble demonstrating their powers and the 'superiority over the rest of the humans' that their parents desired. The only setback they've faced is that they trained and developed their powers together a bit too much. See, Edric has trained his whole life in using his psychic powers to create projections aka illusions, and Emira has power-based abilities, in which she can give Edric's illusions the full force of their imagined attacks. Separately neither of them can make or do anything worthwhile but together they're top students. Fortunately they've been able to hide that drawback from everybody so far.

Amity, on the other hand, has never displayed any sign of even the potential for psychic powers. Her parents consider her to be both a failure to the entire family and their greatest embarrassment. That didn't stop them from enrolling her in a school exclusively for people with psychic powers though, cause they would much rather force Amity to find some way to lie and cheat around her entire life than reveal to the world they have a talentless daughter. They force Amity to become friends with children of their choosing, who will help her cover up her 'failure' and they assign Ed and Em to watch out for her and make sure she doesn't 'destroy the Blight family name.'

That’s about all the background for her thing, and I’ll get to what Luz is up to in a moment, but first I’m gonna make a momentary stop to talk about Willow (and kind of Gus). Willow is also an esper, though she honestly would rather not be. She enjoys the affinity with plants that she's built up over the years but she'd trade it in a heartbeat if it meant she would get to go back to normal school instead  of this fancy esper school with all these stuck up superpowered narcist teenagers who hate her. The only reason she even goes anymore is because she doesn't want to disappoint her parents, who were just so proud of her when her powers developed. Though one day she did ditch school to go visit a normal high school, just to see what it was like. There she met Gus, who happened to be the only member of a fanclub for espers, on account of everyone else in the school doesn't believe in espers and think he's crazy. Well, there was this other girl but... She’s not around anymore. Anyway so Willow befriends Gus and shows him some of her plant affinity thing and he thinks it's amazing, and Willow has a pretty terrible lack of people her age who think anything she does is remotely notable, much less amazing, so she and Gus develop a friendship pretty quickly.

Aight, now finally onto the main event, Luz and Lumity. So Spotlight on our girl Luz, who just so happens to be a spirit at the moment. I'm not sure what actually happened to her to, ya know, unalive her, but it sure did happen. Still, she managed to hold on to the world long enough to form as a spirit, just through sheer willpower and certainty that she wasn't done yet. Essentially she dies and starts to drift off but like right before everything fades to black she just like, jolts back up like 'hey no absolutely not I had dreams and a family and there is so much going on here that I am going to see and do and nobody can stop me.' And, as Luz do, she decides to focus on the positive bits of this instead. 

 See, cause back when she was alive our girl happened to be something of an esper enthusiast. And the thing about being a huge nerd about espers is that she managed to do some digging on the notable espers of the area. So, naturally, she found out about the Blight family. And she just so happened to find out about Amity specifically while she was at it, and perhaps she had discovered this information about a girl her age belonging to the most important esper family of the city and decided that this girl would be her rival in the field of becoming the best esper she could be, despite, admittedly, not knowing how to make the esper part even happen in the first place.

So, now with a spirit body not bound by the laws of physics and other such inconvenient matters, she searches out the Blight manor, intent on finding Amity, this whole preconceived notion in her head about how this is all going to go, some fanficitony plot unfolding in her imagination about how once they were bitter rivals but now Luz will have to convince her to work with her so she can achieve her dream still.

But when she gets to the manor she finds it warded against spirits. Not to be deterred, she waits outside the gates for Amity and latches onto her backpack, waiting for a good time to reveal herself to Amity, though she questions a bit why the girl doesn't see her in the first place. She hides with Amity all day, surviving a whole day in a school full of espers who could exorcise her with a flick of their finger, solely because she was with The Amity Blight, and anyone who noticed her energy just assumed Amity knew what she was doing and left her alone. The drawback to this, though, was that Luz kinda got directly smacked in the face by her preconceived notions of what Amity would be like, and while initially she had intended to reveal herself to Amity in order to ask for help, after seeing her be rude and pretentious to literally everyone all day she instead reveals herself to basically just yell at Amity and get really mad. Fortunately for Amity she's not an esper so she can't see spirits anyway.

Except the thing is. She's walking home by herself, like she always does, and then she starts to hear this whispering coming from nowhere, getting louder and louder, until eventually she just hears someone yell her name out of nowhere. See, Amity had never seen a spirit before, but also, a spirit had never gone out of its way to appear to her before. Essentially Luz accidentally reached out to her and lit the spark of her dormant psychic powers (everyone has at least some level of psychic powers sleeping within them it's kind of a whole thing). So Amity spends the entire time Luz is yelling at her just, staring open mouthed at this spirit that appeared for her out of nowhere after 14 years of hell. She doesn't even acknowledge any of the stuff Luz said about her, she was far too overwhelmed by just the fact that after being a failure her whole life she suddenly wasn't, at least, not entirely.

Luz eventually notices that she is getting far from the anticipated reaction and she quiets down. At that point the two talk things out and, while Luz is still seriously disappointed in the person Amity turned out to be, she doesn't have any better ideas of who to talk to, she kind of needs someone to be her communication piece to the real world at this point, and Amity finally has something she can use to actually do things with her 'psychic powers.' Cause they've been awakened now, yeah, but she quickly realizes she can see Luz and Only Luz. So the two of them begrudgingly work together, each kind of starting off mutually aware that they're just using the other for their own goals, and being perfectly okay with that.

So that's the general relationship dynamic between the two of them at the start, and eventually they get to know each other better. Amity stops viewing Luz as a spirit and starts learning more about the person she was before she died. (Amity just calls her "spirit" for like, at least the first week. The first time she uses Luz' name is a whole thing). Meanwhile Luz learns more about what Amity's life is like behind the scenes and everything that's happened to her.

[localaakash]

Is Hotel Management is a good career option?

Hotel management is a branch of the service sector that generates more job opportunities and revenue than any other. Hotel managers are educated in business, human resources, and customer service. Hotel management is not as simple as you may believe; it is a challenging career in which you will encounter interesting individuals and intriguing opportunities. Both men and women can enrol in the hotel management program.

A bachelor’s degree in hotel management prepares students for management roles in the hotel business as well as related fields such as retail, banking, and insurance. A postgraduate degree in hotel management can lead to a variety of job opportunities. In semester 3, students can choose between human resources management and sales and marketing, as part of the postgraduate program’s built-in specialism.

Anyone considering a career in hotel management should keep the following factors in mind.

Confidential communication skill

One of the most important factors for organizational success is communication. To engage with new people and have an interest in meeting them, it is necessary to have a healthy and confidential relationship. This is a field that necessitates this consideration.

Patience

When dealing with people in the hotel management field, the most important thing to remember is to be patient. It will come in handy when you are confronted with unreasonable demands and impossible expectations. In such cases, the best thing to do is to pay close attention to the customer and have a calm, confident demeanour. People who do not behave in this manner may find difficulties in this industry.

Dealing with an uncomfortable situation

As a hotel manager, you’re likely to be in an area with a variety of individuals and their awkward situations. You’ll need skills to deal with these situations and people effectively.

Having a pleasant and presentable demeanour

As a hotel manager, your outward behaviour, such as the way you speak, stand, and present yourself, is quite important. You must be approachable. Before enrolling in this field, think about the following points.

We feel that the above-mentioned considerations are taken into account by anyone serious about entering this field of study. This means that anyone who meets the eligibility requirements can enrol in this field of study.

Let’s have a look at some of the prerequisites for hotel management.

What are the prerequisites for a career as a hotel manager?

It is common knowledge that any course has prerequisites that must be met before enrolling in the course. The following are some prerequisites for obtaining a hotel management degree.

The minimum requirement for the Hotel Management program is a 10+2 diploma. Students can also choose between a certificate, diploma, and degree programs.

For the final selection of students for the hotel management course, a group discussion and an aptitude test are held.

A certificate course might last anywhere from six months to a year, while a degree program lasts three years.

An entrance test is performed every year in April to select students for government institutions and institutes.

Hotel Management courses

Students fascinated by Hotel Management have lots of options when it involves courses. Hotel Management courses are available at the undergraduate yet postgraduate level. Plus, not only there are degree courses but also various diploma and certificate courses additionally.

Before choosing a hotel management course, students should make sure that they meet the eligibility criteria for that individual course. Not only this, but students should even have an understanding of what the course curriculum will include and why they’re taking over that individual course.

Certification Hotel management course After Grade 10

Certificate in HouseKeeping

Certificate in Hotel and Catering management

Certificate in Front Office Operation

Diploma Hotel management course After Grade 10

Diploma in Hotel Management

Diploma in Hotel Management and Catering Technology

Diploma in Food and Beverage Service

Diploma in Front Office Operations

Undergraduate degree Hotel management course After Grade 12

BA in Hotel Management

Bachelor of Hotel Management

Bachelor In Motel Management and Catering Technology

BBA in Hotel Management

BSc in Hospitality and Hotel Administration

Postgraduate Hotel management course

Masters in Tourism and Hotel management

Masters in Hotel Management

MBA in Hotel Management

MBA in Hospitality

Difference between Hotel Management and Hospitality

Don’t get the terms “hotel industry” and “hospitality industry” mixed up. While many people believe the two terms refer to the same thing, there are some distinctions between the two.

Hotel management is solely concerned with hotels, and job opportunities are limited to those in the hotel industry, including managerial positions in rooms, housekeeping, and operations. Hospitality management, on the other hand, is a broad term that encompasses a variety of industries such as restaurants, bars, cafes, travel and tourism, events, casinos, and so on.

What you should know is that it is the hotel manager’s responsibility to guarantee that the hotel is always warm and friendly, making us feel at home, and offering services that exceed the expectations of the guests. Hospitality is the term used to describe the interaction between the host and the guests.

Why Hotel Management is a Good Career Option?

Hotel management is one of the most dynamic, fast-growing, and demanding professions in the twenty-first century. You need to comprehend the explanations before deciding on a career in hotel management. For travel-obsessed graduates who want to start their careers in India and abroad, Hotel Management offers exciting options. Students are drawn to this field because of its numerous advantages.

More diverse and wacky work prospects emerge with each new technological innovation or guest experience. There are even impending economic changes, but the hotel sector has always demonstrated a high level of resilience in its operations. It’s even managed to stay afloat while other industries couldn’t keep up. Numerous top-tier universities offer you aim degrees in hotel management.

If you’re thinking about pursuing a career in hotel management, consider the following reasons to do so.

Fast-growing industry field

According to the business world, the hotel and the tourist industry is growing at a pace of 7.5 per cent, and according to a forecast by KPMG, this pace will climb to 16.1 per cent by 2022, with the hotel industry earning around rupees two thousand seven hundred and ninety-six thousand corrodes. So dismissing this industry as a viable choice is out of the question.

A wide range of Job Opportunities

The first thing that comes to mind is where can I get a job once I finish my degree, therefore we looked at all of the career opportunities and divided them into five groups.

Typically, you’ll find work at a huge hotel chain, such as the Taj group of hotels, Hilton Marriott over constantly, and so on.

You could work in a chain restaurant, a quick food restaurant, or a resort or a club.

The merchant navy and cruise ships are two places where hospitality graduates from hotel management often find work.

Railways, the military forces, tourism boards, banks, and other government institutions are all places where you can work.

Flight kitchen’s and Hospitals

Another aspect of hotel management is that it is a key employer. They, directly and indirectly, employ 48 million people in India, accounting for 8.27 per cent of the entire workforce. So, what are the reasons why we shouldn’t undertake hotel management or why you should choose hotel management as a career?

A Sufficient wage

Historically, salaries in the hotel, travel and tourist industries have been lower than in other businesses. Nonetheless, there are a plethora of reassuring jobs in these fields that can be financially rewarding. If your hotel company provides excellent guest service, the top-performing employee gets rewarded handsomely. They will provide you with competitive starting packages, frequent wage increases, bonuses, and other incentives in exchange for providing excellent service.

Life long career and work abroad

Another benefit of this field is that you can jump between segments, so the career for hotel management graduates is frequently recruited by other industries as well. Because the skill that you are learning is all about customer service and interaction, industries that will gladly hire you to include aviation, tourism, retail, banking, insurance, and many others

Hotel managers who work for chain hotels have the opportunity to attend work-related seminars or work in different chains around the world. Hotel managers who want to relocate to another country may be given the option to do so while keeping their current job.

Apart from the perks listed above, hotel managers have the option to work in five-star hotels. As a hotel manager, the more experience you have, the more prospects for promotion into higher management roles you will have. Take business or management courses to get the most out of these prospects.

Job Satisfaction

As a hotelman, your job is about people and you, therefore, must be a nation person. You aim to make sure that each guest’s stay is as pleasant as possible while the very best standards of customer service are met. briefly, it is your job to form people happy. Knowing that this has been successfully achieved through regeneration and good reviews will bring you an excellent sense of job satisfaction and can spur you on to realize even better results.

A new day brings a new challenge

There are no two days alike in the hotel industry. Every day, you’ll meet new people and face new difficulties, so the chances of a hospitality career becoming monotonous are slim to none.

Training programs

Few renowned hotel chains like the Taj, Oberoi offer their training program which offers the proper confluence of classroom studies and job training experience. After completion of the program, students are appointed at the junior management level. this can be a substantial boosting factor and advances your career by five to seven years.

Hotel Management in India

According to a report by rating agency ICRA, the Indian hotel industry will likely see just a marginal revenue growth of roughly 7% in 2012–13, due to the uncertain economy affecting demand. According to the report, the hotel industry hit new lows in the second quarter of 2012–13, with declining RevPARs and rising electricity prices reducing operating margins, which, combined with rising fixed costs (interest and depreciation), resulted in numerous players incurring net losses.

Hotel management courses provide students with a variety of opportunities in the hotel business. Hotel management students can find excellent prospects in both the public and private sectors, thanks to the growing demand in the business. Hotel management courses are available at the undergraduate, graduate, and diploma levels in India. Tourism Studies and Travel and Tourism Management are two of the most popular specialities. In the discipline of hotel management, interested people might pursue an undergraduate, postgraduate, or diploma program.

Hotel Management career with Nowadays Technology

We can’t consider job advancement without being tech-savvy in today’s knowledge economy. Technology has guaranteed that the hotel and tourism industries are never short of fresh and innovative job opportunities. A computer user, U/X designer, Cybersecurity specialist, designer, or social media manager are all possibilities.

The traditional job possibilities of the past have been supplemented by a slew of new ones. Furthermore, many technological occupations pay exceptionally well. So, if you’re a tech-savvy hotel management graduate, you’ll be able to look into a variety of technical positions that could help your hospitality career take off. From engineering to food and beverage; from housekeeping to front-of-house management; from pilots to cruise directors, and the list goes on. The numerous job possibilities available in hospitality and tourism make it one of the most rewarding professions.

As a result, hotel management remains a good job choice for college students, as graduates can choose from a variety of job routes within the industry. Furthermore, technology and innovation are only going to make things better for individuals interested in working in the hotel sector. As a result, hotel management is an excellent career choice. There is a lot of hostility around hotel management jobs, which has gotten worse as a result of the COVID outbreak. However, rest confident that the hotel and leisure business will continue to be one of the fastest-growing businesses, providing employees with endless prospects.

Source: https://aakaksharmahdev.medium.com/is-hotel-management-is-a-good-career-option-fa042673f842