Tumgik
#any-traction
risingsunresistance · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pigy,,,
4K notes · View notes
queenofepic · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I made a shitpost powerpoint that blew tf up on twitter so I might as well post it here too. Argenti rerun hype 🙏🌹
872 notes · View notes
pikahlua · 4 months
Text
Fourteen Days of My Hero Academia
Greetings, friends! The ending has been announced for beloved shounen manga My Hero Academia by Kohei Horikoshi, and I thought it would be a nice opportunity for everyone to express their love of this amazing series! So I am posting a series of prompts for everyone if they would like to participate in this little fandom challenge.
The idea is that, on each day listed, you will create and post something with respect to the day's theme. By create, I mean whatever your heart desires. It could be a fanfic, a fanart, a fanvid, a moodboard, a diorama, a meta post, a screenshot, a poem, a drabble, a few sentences of reflection, anything really! Whatever your brain dreams up! The only requirements are that it qualifies as some sort of fan creation for MHA and that it pertains to the day's theme. The final day of the event will be the official release date of the final chapter of MHA: August 5th, 2024.
Any given day may have multiple prompts. You do not have to do all of them (unless you really, really want to), rather you may pick the one prompt that inspires you the most! And feel free to interpret each prompt however you like. For example, on day 8, you may wish to interpret "line" as a spoken piece of dialogue or as a drawn shape such as the way Horikoshi does creative paneling. On day 11, you could interpret "name" as a nickname, a code name, the kanji in a character's name, or any special meaning in a character's name. Let your imagination run wild!
You may skip out on days if you wish or need to. You may put as much or as little time and effort into this as you like. You could start working now to make some big works, or you could use this opportunity to do a little daily journal project. The sky is the limit! The goal here is to spend some time thinking about MHA before it ends and to make a collection of little fanworks for everyone to enjoy in the process!
Please tag your submissions as #14DaysofMHA (ideally as the post's first tag) so that everyone can enjoy them!
Without further ado, here are the prompts! Thank you @siflshonen for the assistance brainstorming them!
Fourteen Days of MHA Daily Prompts
Day 1 (July 23rd): Family, Home, House
Day 2 (July 24th): UA Academy, Education
Day 3 (July 25th): Weather, Light Fades to Rain
Day 4 (July 26th): The Ladies
Day 5 (July 27th): Quirk, Special Move
Day 6 (July 28th): Minor Character
Day 7 (July 29th): First Impressions, Just One Bad Day
Day 8 (July 30th): Title, Lyric, Music, Line
Day 9 (July 31st): Legacy, Story, Past, Childhood
Day 10 (August 1st): Emotion, Heart
Day 11 (August 2nd): Symbol (of), Name
Day 12 (August 3rd): Face, Smile, Humor
Day 13 (August 4th): Future, Growth, Change, Evolution
Day 14 (August 5th): Anything you want
Feel free to send asks if you need clarification on anything. I will try to edit in any new information to this original post for everyone's convenience!
382 notes · View notes
emmster · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
It’s 3am but look I coloured it
518 notes · View notes
hindnqarnfel · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
This is Heba, she's a sweet lady who's really suffering right now. Her and her family are trapped in Rafah. Their recent attempt to return to northern Gaza didn't go so well.
She tells me she's sick and tired and that Rafah is currently infested with mosquitoes and they're all scared of the coming israeli ground offensive so please donate to help them get their whole family out 🙏 and share please.
510 notes · View notes
doobledabbadoo · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Pick your Character! (They may or may not die later on. Whoever you choose, their fate is in your hands.)
Bonus content under the cut!
Campfirey Alt:
Tumblr media
Work in Progress Pieces:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bonus Sketch:
Tumblr media
Original Screenshot:
Tumblr media
232 notes · View notes
corethetrueidiot · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
some kanaena from a few days ago i forgot to post here
(og image by pomssum on twitter. Here)
336 notes · View notes
vampyre-lesbian · 4 months
Text
maybe this is just common knowledge, but I can't believe I haven't seen more people talking about the fact that Jacob Anderson also has a successful music career under the pseudonym Raleigh Ritchie. his music is mostly soul / r&b stuff and it's SO GOOD, seriously, go check him out right now if you haven't already.
Bloodsport '15 is my favorite song of his, because it came out in 2015 so it's definitely not about Loustat, but it totally sounds like it was written about Loustat. Shadow and The Greatest are both really good too!
309 notes · View notes
plow-and-propose · 10 months
Text
Orange Flags (found in any post but especially ones about politics)
We don't always have the time and/or energy to do our own research, so here are some things to watch out for:
No sources. Obviously this doesn't 100% guarantee that the post contains misinformation but it does mean you can't easily verify it. Is OP right? Wrong? Outright lying? You don't know!
Contradicting sources in the notes. Again, doesn’t necessarily mean that OP is wrong, but you should absolutely do your own research before sharing if several different people are providing contradictory evidence.
'Unreliable' sources. What constitutes as unreliable depends a bit on context but be especially wary of unsourced screenshots (could be taken out of context), clearly biased sources (e.g. 'Nationalist News of [Country]' type newspapers), and second hand sources (e.g. a different, unsourced tumblr post).
Minor mistakes. Like an incorrect statistic, an exaggerated number, or a omitted detail - something fairly small. Maybe OP just misremembered or forgot about this one thing, but it could be a sign they've made an error or lied about something far more major.
Urgency. Obviously there is a lot of reason for urgency when dealing with crises, but if a post gives you the vibe of go go go there's no time to explain share this give money do it now don't think about it go then OP may not have stopped to check their sources, or even be actively using urgency to mislead you.
And lastly here's a tip: if you're not sure, save the post as a draft. More information might become available later.
Stopping the spread of misinformation is hard. We all want to help and sharing posts feels like a very quick and easy way to do it. But it's also very easy to share the wrong thing by mistake. Try to stop and think.
Source for this post: my own experience. These are things I've picked up over many years of being gullible online. I highly encourage you to take the time to educate yourself about how to stop the spread of misinformation.
490 notes · View notes
quailxcrossing · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
i'm in love with you falin dungeon meshi
183 notes · View notes
hypewinter · 9 months
Text
So I've seen a lot of posts that use Danny Todd or Respawn in reincarnation ideas. Couple that with a severe lack of sleep and a desperation to not do any or the various assignments I have and I got a gloriously stupid idea. What if Danny were constantly reincarnating?
We begin with Thomas Wayne Jr. Older brother to Bruce Wayne and brain damaged serial killer turned acrobat? (Boy the 70s were wild) anyhow after Thomas Jr. heroically takes a bullet for his brother, the higher powers that be decide he was given a rotten hand in life and decide to let him reincarnate.
Enter Danny Todd who has yet another tragic life. He tries to shield his brother from the terrors of the world and give him a good life. He even joins a gang and dirties his hands so Jason doesn't have to. The unfortunately ends with Danny Todd losing his life with the fire escape he's on collapses. The powers that be cough awkwardly as they realize this new life was just as terrible as the first. Therefore they try again.
Bam! Daniel Fenton comes bursting onto the scene and his life is actually pretty good. Sure his parents are a little obsessed with their research but by no means are they neglectful. Plus Danny is smart, talented, and driven. What a great life, nothing could possibly go wrong with this one! Until Danny turns 14 and promptly gets zapped. Now this right here opens up a whole new can of worms as Danny's newfound half ghost status gives him access to his past lives. Nothing too grand. Just little memories or feelings here and there but these glimpses seem to be getting clearer as time goes on. Too bad there's no time to focus on that though with all of these new ghost baddies stream in. Speaking of ghost baddies, during the events of TUE, Danny ends up sacrificing his life to save his family and erase Dan from the time stream.
So.... he's dead. Again. Geez what is with this kid dying younger and younger? Why can't you just live a long happy and fulfilling life!? *Sigh* That's it. Maybe what your soul really needs is some peaceful eternal rest. Wait where did he go? What do you mean he fell into a reincarnation pool? Who did he reincarnate as?!?
Respawn, son of Slade Wilson and Talia Al Ghul, opens his eyes. He has four sets of memories competing for dominance in his mind. Which leads him to be very confused and given his parentage/training, very angry. The only times things ever seemed to calm were when he was stalking Damian around his new family. Is that what he needs? The Waynes? But they already have Damian. Respawn would just be the spare if he joined them. He didn't like that. Replacement however - though still mildly annoying - he could get behind it.
384 notes · View notes
novicedraws · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sorry for the absence,,,and sorry for not many sketches
//suggestive below
Tumblr media
296 notes · View notes
mearchy · 7 months
Text
I love Cassian Andor so so so much as a character he’s just so well written and well acted. He’s so compelling. The way he really would prefer not to be a hero but not in a performative “I just suck so bad I could never be a hero” way in a very ordinary “keep me out of this because it’s not my problem” way. He’s eternally a background character getting put in key positions of main character plots. When I see him break out in that charming beseeching smile, trying to convince who he’s talking to to just give him one more chance, like to the judge when he’s convicted or to his debtors on Ferrix. When I see his face twist and turn grim and intent when he pulls out the gun and shoots a man begging for his life. When he’s in the Narkina 5 prison and he’s just staring emptily ahead and you can SEE him reliving his time in prison as a 13 year old. The anxiousness hidden by sharp aggression when he gets touched unexpectedly while training for the heist. It’s all so good!!!!! He never feels like the bad guy, every decision he makes is so human and you can see the same deeply feeling person behind all of it and I love him so much.
221 notes · View notes
aayakashii · 5 months
Text
touch starved
small fic after I saw @berrygoodjob hc about Alan being touch starved...... couldnt stop thinking about it afterwards. This might have a part 2 if I get more ideas, but we'll see.
Gender neutral MC mostly (mention of a skirt). English isn't my 1st language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!
Also, I usually post on ao3 so this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr, if the formatting is wonky, I'm sorry!!
Edit: changed it to 2nd person pov to match the future chapters.
Part 2 here, part 3 here
Tumblr media
"Captain?" you knocked gently on the hardwood door right on front of you. It looked sturdy and way too thick for a normal bedroom door, but then again, this is the room of a ghoul.
You wiped the sweat of your palms on your skirt, afraid you'd somehow smudge Professor Dante's careful handwriting as you clenched the papers against your chest.
You hated doing this. Not necessarily presenting another batch of mission papers, no. Even if a mission puts your neck on the line, there are some ghouls you could trust in a heartbeat, like most of the boys from Frostheim and Jabberwock.
What you hated is being right there. In that exact place.
You hated being in Vagastrom.
"Captain? Alan, are you there?" you knocked again, a bit more forcefully this time, since maybe he just didn't hear you behind the door.
The smell of musk and sweat was everywhere in that place, suffocating you, making your heart race with anxiety and fear for your safety.
There were men everywhere, wherever you looked. Scary, burly, big, probably-loose-with-their-morals men who followed you, hungrily, with their eyes, whenever you strode inside the garage and into the dorm rooms.
They wouldn't come near you, though. They knew messing with you was messing with not only their captain, but the captains of other houses and Darkwick itself. Being cursed an honor student had its perks.
What you dreaded, in fact, was seeing Vagastrom's vice-captain. The cunning, untrustworthy, venomous, undeserving of his position as vice-captain, Kurosagi Leo. You shivered thinking about his lifeless eyes and smile filled with hidden intentions – he was the true reason why you despised being in Vagastrom.
The door opened right before you lifted your hand to knock a third time as your anxiety peaked as you thought about Leo.
"What are you doing here?" the man in front of you gasped in surprise upon seeing you before him.
"I told you to send me a message before coming to Vagastrom if you ever needed to talk... You're not supposed to walk alone around here" the Vagastrom Captain sighed after lightly scolding you "Come, you can enter."
Alan was different, though.
You followed behind him, staring at his broad back, while his right hand massaged his left shoulder. His room smelled like eucalyptus, a welcome respite, and you breathed in deeply the comforting scent while he turned around and looked at you.
Alan was nothing like Leo.
People would talk and talk about his past, about how he was a scary deliquent who might have killed someone; about how he must be terrifyingly powerful if he controlled all of those delinquents on his own for so long; about how his stigma is made for destruction and pain; but every single day, all you could see were the way his eyes were kind and gentle as he looked at you.
"Are you okay?" he said, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his pants, shoulders stiff as ever "No one messed with you?"
"No, no," you shook your head, smiling to prove you were in one piece. "Everyone always leaves me alone in here. You don't need to worry. They know I work with the ghouls, so I guess that's all the protection I need. The only threat here is Leo, but he only threatens my mental health, to be fair." you said, laughing humorlessly.
Alan winced and looked apologetic at your comment.
"... Sorry. I still gotta learn to control him."
You shook your head once again.
"It's not your fault, Alan. You're a great captain." you smiled. "Speaking of being a captain, Professor Dante asked me to deliver these papers to you. It's a bureaucratic mission though, no outside work. Apparently, there are some student records missing, something in regards to personal information being omitted by some students."
Alan gently grabbed the papers from your hands, surveying the information as he sat down on the couch in the middle of his room.
He sighed deeply after scanning all the papers, rubbing his temples in a manner he probably have picked up from Frostheim's vice-captain, and slumped against the back cushion.
"Um... Is everything okay, Alan?" you asked, sitting beside him.
"... Yes. Just... a bit tired." he murmured.
You hummed in thought, surveying his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The dark circles under his eyes were very obvious under the fluorescent lights.
"Have you been sleeping properly? Resting?" you asked, tilting your head, trying to make eye contact with his reddened and tired eyes.
"Can't. Work has been piling up."
"You know you won't be able to work well if you're burnt out, don't you? Even ghouls need to rest, no matter how strong they are."
"..."
The extremely stoic man stayed silent, avoiding your gaze at all costs. For someone everyone called scary, he could act like a kid who had been caught with their hand inside a cookie jar at moments.
You sighed.
Your hand moved on its own before you could even register what you were doing. You felt the unexpected silk of his hair against your fingertips as you patted his head to comfort him, much like he had done to yourself many times previously.
Except, instead of gladly accepting it like you usually do, Alan flinched and scooted away from you and your hand, staring at your face, mouth agape and eyes wide in shock.
"I'm sorry!" you said, not sure of what you had done wrong, while shutting your eyes and putting your hands up like you were a bank robber who just had been caught by the police. "I was just! I didnt... I mean... I'm sorry!"
"Ghhh-!"
You tentatively opened your eyes, hands still up, after hearing Alan emit what could only be described as a choking sound.
The Vagastrom Captain, Alan Mido, one of the scariest men in Darkwick Academy, had one of his hands covering his face as he stared wide-eyed at you.
And he was beet red.
"I- I'm- Uh-" he gasped, struggling to form a coherent sentence, settling on just clearing his throat awkwardly.
Your head raced, a million miles per hour, as you saw him look away from your eyes, trying to put distance between the both of you on the sofa and get into terms with his own sudden embarrassment.
'Huh... I thought his stigma only worked on his hands? Maybe my enhancement ability makes it work wherever I touch? Is that why he's so worried? But he wasn't even moving when I patted his head, maybe he was just caught off guard by me touching... touching his hair... Oh...'
Alan tried to recompose himself, still looking everywhere, but your direction. His cheeks still flushed red, while he scrunched his eyebrows in what appeared to be confusion, as if he wasn't understanding his own reaction as well.
'Oh. He's... incredibly touch starved, isn't he?' The thought dropped into your mind, like a single coin dropping into a fountain. Drip. And you were fully unable to shake it off, to grab it from the depths of your thoughts and chuck it away before your mind could lead you to places you were pretty sure you shouldn't go.
It made sense despite it all, you figured. People barely approached Alan, as he was seen as a God by his house-mates and as a criminal by those outside Vagastrom.
He was incredibly hard to approach, his quiet personality making it hard to talk to him and his stoicism making it hard to figure out what he could be thinking.
Yet, there he was, like an open book. His red cheeks, stuttering words and wandering eyes saying exactly what he was thinking – what he wanted from you.
Before you could talk again or act on any more impulses, Alan forced a few dry coughs and cleaned his throat again, picking up the papers once again as he got up fast from his seat. His face gradually went back to his usual color, and so did his stoic expression.
"Well, I will get to work on this as soon as I finish my job at the garage. Thanks for the delivery." he shook the papers way too eagerly. "Will message you once we can start working. Please close the door once you leave."
Alan strode away fast, still avoiding any and all eye contact, and quickly left you alone in his room. You stared at the diligently closed hardwood door that seemed to create an ocean of distance between him and yourself, barely forming a coherent thought.
Outside, a little Like Dove peered inside the small windows near the ceiling, daring you to start creating scenarios in your head.
You shook your head, trying to get rid of any speculations of your own. Creating scenarios was a job for the you before sleep, the one who had time to feel anxious and overthink your daily situations.
And if your phone beeping was any signal, right now you had other ghouls to assist.
262 notes · View notes
myokk · 2 months
Text
before it felt like a sin, ch. 1
Tumblr media
pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
word count: 3000
summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.
And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.
She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.
a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)
Tumblr media
There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -
“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”
Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.
“Oh! Er…it’s -”
“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.
“One hour…I just -”
“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”
“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.
Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?
“Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”
Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”
Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.
When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.
Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.
That…
Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.
She never received letters.
Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.
Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.
How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.
Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.
Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…
…not anymore?
Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.
Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.
A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.
Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.
The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.
No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -
A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.
Miss Eloise Babbit,
I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.
Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.
I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.
Yours,
Eleazar Fig
The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.
It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.
As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.
She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.
She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.
Tumblr media
The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.
Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.
Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.
Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.
The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.
What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.
As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.
Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.
Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.
When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.
next chapter
105 notes · View notes
irafuwas · 1 year
Text
im about to end this man's entire career
Tumblr media
541 notes · View notes