#but my professor- who did love to kid around- was like 'okay psycho remind me not to be in distress around you'

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Okay but what is this class?

So, within the film school were 3 areas of study, and you had to pick ONE to do:

Telecommunication law and policy.

Media Sciences (The academic studies. If they could show you something and put electrodes on your head to read your brain, they're happy)

Design and Production-- actually making shit. Scriptwriting, studio, field production, sound design, editing, etc.

I did a self-created hybrid major, bridging Media Sciences with Design and Production.

----

Laid that ground information because I can only describe the classes from the way I approached them. The media psychology students got something totally different out of it and my brain just doesn't stop where theirs stopped.

If I mention the sex class, I'll end up writing that 100,000 word essay on how it is applied to LITA, so let's talk the horror one (my fav).

What the class does is get into physiologically, what happens to a person while watching horror? A lot of that is really obvious- you can become tense, anxious, your stress levels actually go DOWN overall (which is not how it feels in the moment), and you experience a rush of adrenaline.

Then you dig deeper. What is contributing to the tension? The human brain processes things at different speeds, sight is slower than sound. So sound mixing becomes both critical to creating a horror atmosphere, and also a cheat code. Anything becomes spooky if it SOUNDS spooky.

Monkey brain hear spooky, monkey brain no like spooky. Now it's dark. Monkey brain cannot see danger approach. Monkey brain fight or flight grow big.

Now, if you don't have a valve to bring the tension down (something scary, jump scares are the most lazy way), monkey brain get bored. Monkey brain start adapting to the adrenaline and your adrenal gland is like "Guys this party sucks".

And that's why M. Night Shamalan movies blow. Level tension. So at the end when he tries to ramp it up your brain has already gotten bored and gone home so it's just like "Who the fuck cares".

What else is in horror movies? Violence!

But guess what? Monkey brain feel things if they see gruesome stuff. Boy monkey brains especially.

But what's this? Girl monkey brains are different than boy monkey brains. Girl monkey brains have SO MANY MORE nerve endings (that equals empathy). You show gruesome to girl monkey brain, girl monkey brain is like "childbirth and periods are more gruesome than this" (girl monkey brain not the most feminist, the feminism comes from evolution and enlightenment).

But you show a girl monkey brain the FACE of someone in pain- the agony and the terror... That's going to slam into those nerve endings and activate Empathy Mode- and now you can imagine how that violence FEELS.

Know your demographic- based on your subject matter, the likely ratio of boy monkey brains to cater to vs girl monkey brains. Set your balance of violence and face shots to keep both on the same page with that tension you are rising and lowering.

And I did say I didn't want to get into the sex one because I don't want to rabbit hole, but sex and horror tend to walk hand in hand because they're such primal triggers.

That's the "monkey brain" theme up there. They are not speaking to you as a rational human person. They're speaking to the root code of your DNA (do not try to hijack my post to argue anti-feminist things because of monkey brain, I'm talking horror and sex).

They're poking at instinctive responses you do not consciously control on average.

So yeah

I created a hybrid major track for myself within the department (I love that my uni gave students the freedom to do that) to study media psychology and apply it not to research on the human condition, but to learn to basically brain wash and mind control my audiences.

To reach into the monkey brain and hypnotize them until they end up- as the video game design majors would say- in a flow-state where time stops existing. Just the story is left. Like a dream you don't realize you are dreaming.

... ... ... When my professor realized how I was mixing the two tracks, he started calling it the Super Villain Major.

I have no regrets.

[another-snape-story]

Time to Face the Truth and Accept It

Chapter XVIII

A terrible headache awoke the memories of the previous night, once you opened your eyes to a dimly lit room, waves of nausea adding to your misery. You still felt sick. Looking around you recognized your own room, recalling on Severus – a saint man! – who helped you cover the distance from his office right to your chambers, since you were barely able to stand on your feet. Good you didn’t choose your office for this nightly get-together.

You also remembered… kissing him goodnight at your door… Just a little peck on the cheek, yet your heart fluttered as you revived soft sensation of his skin against your lips. You were falling for him – it was too obvious to be ignored.

You liked all-consuming feeling of safety his being around provided. His confidence and composure – the way he carried himself promised there was nothing beyond his power to overcome any of the difficulties. You admired this aspect of his character, but there also was another side he was so reluctant, even wary to reveal, the side you craved to know better.

Drifting with the current of pleasant thoughts, you closed your eyes. The image of a man who stirred up delightful excitement in your soul gradually took shape out of the darkness. His peculiar features you found so attractive reappeared from the back of your mind building up a lucid picture of the face so dear to your heart, and with it desire to see him again.

Wondering if you were not too intrusive, you let out a frustrated growl. Perhaps, you should’ve given him more space? Work – that’s what you had to focus on!

Excited voices reaching from behind the door reminded you about the Quidditch match scheduled for today.

“Ugh, really?” you frowned, realizing you’ve overslept and had no time for the morning routine so much needed in your current condition. Reluctantly, you pulled the blanket off, and – since it was everything you were capable of – remained lying flat, staring at the ceiling and regretting you couldn’t stay like that forever.

Dull pain pierced your brain again when you made an attempt to get up. Each turn of the head caused the same effect. You slowly crawled to the bathroom, stepping over clothes scattered on the floor, which you took no trouble putting in a wardrobe.

A splash of cold water on your face felt refreshing. Pulling yourself together now didn’t seem so impracticable, yet it still required some effort.

Meanwhile, Snape was calling his Slytherins to order in the Entrance Hall. He had no wink of sleep last night – your midnight chatter and a kiss (!) deprived him of any. His mind worked frantically trying to comprehend your words along with a storm of emotions fluctuating from thrill to frustration and vice versa. If it were not for the heavy burden he’s been bearing on his shoulders through all those years, he would probably find himself in a state of extreme, euphoric happiness, but ghosts of the past seemed to haunt him forever. Now even more perceptibly – with Potter boy being an eyesore.

Snape was hoping to find you in the crowd. Although he knew it was pointless in such a bustle of students, his glance chaotically jumped over their heads searching for you.

“You can’t go outside without a coat, Mr. Derrick,” Professor stopped 4th year Slytherin halfway. “Go fetch it. Now.”

The guy grunted, yet obeyed.

“Neither are you an exception, Miss Gordon.” Snape watched the girl follow her classmate.

The both almost ran into you when you showed up in the doorway. Struck by a mishmash of loud excited voices you were nearly blacking out from another painful spasm.

Snape’s heart gave a jolt once he saw you and instantly his expression softened.

“Off you go now,” he waved his head in direction of the exit. “And keep in mind – you are the pinnacle of evolution, the crown of creation, there’s no need to squash your way through. But if you do, however, at least perform with dignity.”

First you became aware of his voice, only then you spotted the man. His witty recommendation made you giggle. Separated by a throng of enraptured kids, eyes locked on his, you smiled broadly, waiting them to pass by.

“Do you feel as good as you look?” you asked not without a twinge of envy when you finally reunited.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I mean…” you realized you might’ve sounded flirty, which nowise was your intention. “You look so fresh and rested! Unlike me…” you sighed rubbing your temple.

“I thought you’ve heard about magic,” Snape arched his eyebrow the way he always did trying to banter you. “Must’ve been mistaken…”

“Oh, don’t,” you cut him short in a good-hearted manner. “Save your lectures for another occasion. I feel miserable enough…”

“Can’t wait to see Gryffindor finally beat Slytherin!” impatient about the match and paying no attention to her surrounding, Professor McGonagall headed for the exit in a determined step, eagerly sharing her expectations with Professor Flitwick as they walked past you.

“Oh…” Filius noticed his colleague whose appearance suggested he was more than unimpressed. “I’m sorry, Severus… Ahem… I’d better hurry to catch up with the rest,” the short man awkwardly pointed at the door and receded from view.

“Just like children in a sandbox,” you rolled your eyes, but seeing Snape’s narrow squint exclaimed in disbelief, “You’re not going to join them, are you?”

He didn’t answer chasing his rivals with a killing stare representing the best of its kind.

“Come on, we’d better hurry up too.”

“Wait,” Snape held you back. “Here,” he took a small vial out of his pocket and handed it to you. “It should help with your… condition.”

“How did you… No, don’t tell,” Snape’s chest shielding you from curious eyes and unwanted encounters, you stealthily raised the potion to your mouth – as if it was something illegal – and drank it in one gulp. Surprisingly, alleviation was not long in coming. You felt much better at once. The vise which squeezed your brain so severely now loosened and a light pleasant breeze gently blew the pain away. You closed your eyes for a moment enjoying fantastic relief.

Surprised how resolutely you emptied the vial without even asking what was inside, Snape smiled to himself. You’ve never made an impression of being credulous, this could only mean the level of trust you had for him was more than he would ever expect, and it melted his heart.

“Better?”

“I’m back from the dead!” you cheered.

“Didn’t reckon porcupine’s nasal mucus would have such a fast effect,” he said monotonously, “hm… I should take a note…”

“You’re lying!” you laughed. “There was no porcupine’s nasal mucus there!”

The man’s face remained plain.

“Snape!” you frowned, “there was no anyone’s snot in there! Or was it?”

“Of course it wasn’t, for Merlin’s sake!” he smirked, contented he managed to hoax you.

“I hate you!” you jokingly bumped against his shoulder and your arm gently slid under his. “Shall we?” With this you set in motion.

Snape couldn’t focus on anything but a slight pressure at his elbow caused by your contact. It was unusual yet so gratifying. Each moment beside you restored his soul which was once shattered to pieces.

The majority of students were far ahead. Outpaced by rare fall-behinds, you walked unhurriedly, enjoying tranquility of the place and each other’s company.

“The world seems to be a better place in the daylight,” you said, admiring the scenery.

“Curious it is,” Snape agreed. “Our demons which appear so real in the dark are less visible under the sun.”

“Isn’t it because we are more of our true selves in nighttime?” you fell silent for an instant. “I like your true self…”

Snape smiled sadly. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough. Enough to consider you a good man, enough to trust you, enough to call you a friend…”

“Do not delude yourself,” he answered quietly.

“Am I deluding myself?” you resented. “Aren’t you doing the same denying my words?”

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps.”

“You brighten my days here, okay? And you seem to enjoy our little chats too so far, don’t you?”

“I do,” he gave in.

“So, please, shut up then and let me love you the way you are!” you tightened your grip on his arm.

Snape’s heart pounded in his ears threatening to jump out of his chest. He’s never heard anything even close to what you just said in his entire life. He wished he could tell you how much you meant for him, but he failed to articulate the simple truth. Afraid to look vulnerable, he preserved nonchalant façade.

“You said you hated me not so long ago.”

“Shut up, Snape. Just shut up.” Your lips stretched in a smile and so did his.

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[gryffvndors]

partners [george weasley]

request:  15 & 32 for george weasley? ( not even sure if you write for him but dang, i think your writing is really good and i'm curious on how you'd write for other characters. thank you. 😉 x ) - @bookthrills

word count: ~2200 (i totally lied about the 1500 word limit omg HOW did i go 700 words over my budget)

a/n: so basically i’m a terrible human being and HAD to write this before ANYTHING ELSE. i have so many requests atm AND I LOVE YALL FOR IT IM JUST SO OVERWHELMED so sorry if there’s a delay in ur request im trying my best!!! also this took so long bc im a bad influence and partied after finals. it got bad. ANYWAY I LOVE U AND THANK U SO MUCH @bookthrills UR A GR8 WRITER go check out her blog she rocks my socks

15: “can i kiss you?”

32: do u like me? check yes or no

You’ve always had a specific seating preference. Most of the Hogwarts classrooms are similar in the way that the seating is arranged - of course, in environments like Herbology and Divination, there’s a bit of a variation, but for the most part, the desks or tables are aligned column through row. From your very first class at Hogwarts, you’ve sat in the front, closest to the professor. You have your reasonings, of course; for one, you don’t like to talk much during class, as you think it’s vital to learn. The fact that you’re so close to supervision means you’ll get more work done, as the professor can see if you’re slacking off. The professors are always impressed with the way that you sit so close so voluntarily. In your year, everybody knows that your seat is reserved for you. Nobody wants to sit that close, anyway.

Most of your teachers don’t switch up seating arrangements, either. As long as there is order, then they don’t really care who is next to who. This is why it is an ultimate surprise when, as soon as you enter Ancient Runes, you find all of your classmates lined up against the wall, books in hand.

Professor Babbling catches your eye and nods to the wall. “Thank you for being here. Line up with everybody else; we are switching seats today.”

You swallow, nodding. You walk over to an open spot on the wall, right next to your classmate, George Weasley. He’s chatting with his brother on the other side of him. The only recognition he gives you is a quick wink. You look away, cheeks burning.

After everyone is inside, Professor Babbling begins telling people where to go. She has arranged the desks in pairs, and as she points to people, she explains her reasoning for the change.

“We have just recently come back from holiday. You have been in your seats for half a term. I, personally, like a little bit of change, don’t you?” She doesn’t seem to mind the irritated murmurs and grumbling that ensues, and only continues with, “Well, no matter if you do not, because it is going to happen. We will be doing an independent study for a good while-” Babbling points to you and motions towards a seat in the very back. You, frowning, obey, and set your books on the top of the desk, standing next to it to figure out your partner.

Babbling pauses for a good moment, studying the students that are still standing. There aren’t many; George and Fred Weasley, a Slytherin third year you don’t know, a Ravenclaw seventh year you’ve seen before, and a couple Hufflepuff fourth years. She, after muttering to herself for a moment, points to George Weasley and nods to the second desk of the pair. “As I was saying, we will be doing an independent study for a couple weeks. Ancient runes are best taught not by me lecturing on them, but through self-discovery. I will assign a passage of text that is entirely runic. You will translate it during class. Then, you will present the translated passage with the runes’ translations, both of you, to the whole of the class.”

Babbling is done choosing partners by then. She makes her way up to the front. Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson are in your spot. For a moment, you’re a little spiteful, but it passes quickly. ‘This is good,’ you try to convince yourself. ‘Change is good!’

Babbling hands out the passages. Each group gets a different passage so there isn’t any copying. After everyone is prepared, Babbling nods to the class. “Begin. You have two weeks to this day before we begin presenting.”

Sighing, you turn to George Weasley. His head is in his hands and he isn’t moving. You tentatively poke him on the neck.

George’s head shoots up, eyes open. “I’m listening,” he says, looking around. “Oh, she’s done talking? That’s good. Hey, would you mind repeating what she’d gone on about?”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry? You weren’t listening?”

George laughs, shaking his head. “No, sorry! I was preoccupied,” he taps his head. “Was communicating with Fred.”

You’re at a fault. You look between him and his brother, who sits nearly all the way across the room, next to a Hufflepuff in your year. They’re laughing about something, but once you look over at them, Fred glances at you, too. He shoots you a grin as well.

“You’re… all the way across the room from him,” you remark. “You couldn’t have been speaking to him.”

“Did I say speaking with him?” George smiles. “We’re twins. We have telepathy. Right, Fred?” He says the last bit really quiet, almost a whisper. Fred nods and flashes a thumbs up. “See? He knows what I’m saying! Twinepathy!”

“Psychopathy, maybe,” you tease softly, chuckling so he knows you’re kidding. “Er - alright, then. We should get to work. Um… tell Fred that you’re busy.”

George rubs his temples. A second later, Fred nods and turns around, back to the Hufflepuff. You raise a brow. George only laughs. “So what are we doing?”

You explain the project to him. The two of you get to work. By the end of class, you have maybe a tenth of the passage translated. Professor Babbling takes up everything and dismisses the class.

You’re packing up your stuff when George approaches you, Fred by his side. You look up. The twins both smile and lean on the desk in front of you. “...Yes?”

“We were wondering…” George begins.

“Well, Georgie was wondering,” adds Fred. George slaps him on the arms and snorts, shaking his head.

“I was wondering if we could accompany you to your next class.”

You stare, unblinking, at the identical boys before you. After a minute, you sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t see why not. I’m just going to Divination.”

Fred groans, rolling his eyes. “All those stairs? Georgie, I don’t know if I can do that. You know, the other day, I nearly snapped my leg in half-”

“That… isn’t really possible-” you say.

“-and it’s been so rough going up stairs. I don’t feel like going up to the Divination room. Maybe you could just go, George?”

George narrows his eyes at his brother, but lets his lips spread in a smile. “Aw, Fred, get well soon! I’ll owl mum an update on your leg right after I drop her off at Trelawney’s.”

“You do that, Georgie. I will be up in the common room resting. I’ll see you kids later,” Fred backs away, winking exaggeratedly. When he’s gone, it’s just you two in the room. Babbling has retreated into her office.

“Well, we should probably be going. I don’t want to be late to Divination.”

“I’m sure Trelawney will know whether or not you’ll be late. Can’t she tell the future?”

“It… doesn’t really work that way, George.”

You and George keep working on the project. Each class, you seem to get closer and closer. He’s a really nice guy - you find yourself majorly looking forward to the class every day. Your friends have noticed the change - during meals, they catch you looking at him and tease you, relentless, despite the fact that you swear up and down that you’re only friends.

“But you think he’s attractive, right?” They ask. When you nod, they all shake you and yell and act like… well, basically children. Sometimes they threaten to go over there and ask him out for you.

“Guys - stop,” you frown. “It isn’t like that. He probably doesn’t feel the same way. And we’re still partners, I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“He walks you to class every day!”

“He’s just being nice,” you insist.

They still tease you about him.

It seems like those two weeks fly by. Before you know it, the entire passage is translated, and you’re presenting the projects. Your presentation is just filled with you two smiling and laughing at each other, making little jokes to the entire class. Even Babbling is laughing a little by the end of it; she automatically gives you two the highest grade and sends you back to your seats. When everyone is finished, Babbling goes to the front of the class and smiles, lacing her hands.

“Everyone, this project has been an ultimate success. It seems like your knowledge of ancient runes has increased dramatically. Starting tomorrow, you will be able to go back to your original seats…”

She keeps talking, but you don’t listen to her. Your heart drops. You won’t be sitting next to George anymore? It isn’t even that big a deal - you’ll still be friends, right? Regardless that you won’t be talking every day?

Babbling dismisses everybody. You rise to your feet, shakily slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Well, I think we had a successful partnership,” you say finally, smiling.

George nods. “Oh, yeah. I reckon we work well together.”

“We do!” You hesitate. “Okay, well-”

“We should get you to Divination, yeah?” George says a goodbye to Fred and holds his elbow out. Snorting, you roll your eyes and hook elbows with him.

“You’re a dork,” you remind him.

“Me? A dork? I am a handsome young man! A handsome, intelligent young man!”

“A handsome, intelligent, funny young man.”

George stops walking. “You think I’m funny?”

“Uh… yeah. You are funny.”

A slow grin slides across his face. “And handsome?”

Flushing, you duck your head. “Shut up.”

When you walk into Ancient Runes the following day, you’re disappointed to see the desks in singles again. You pass George’s desk on your way to the front; he leans over and taps you on the side as you walk by. You sit at the front and smile at the professor. Babbling nods to you.

“A bit odd being at the front again after sitting in the back for so long?”

You nod, sighing. “Oh, definitely, professor.”

Halfway through class, you hear a small plop underneath your nose. You look down; there’s a small piece of paper in your lap. Glancing to Babbling to make sure she doesn’t see you, you unfold the paper and read what’s written.

‘Do you like me? Check yes or no -George’

Underneath that, there’s a little box with a ‘yes’ next to it and a little box with a ‘no’. You laugh to yourself. You take your quill and dip it on ink, drawing a little check. You pass it behind you to Angelina Johnson, who you assume keeps it going back to the original recipient.

After class, you meet up with George outside. He’s clutching something in one hand, cheeks pink. Fred is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s… um… Fred?” You ask.

George, who can’t seem to stop smiling, nods the opposite way. “He’s gone that way. Has to meet up with Ronnie, our brother, for something,” George clears his throat and extends his hand. “Shall we… go?”

You take his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

The entire way to the Divination staircase, you can hardly think of anything other than the feeling of your interlocked fingers. You seem to hear your heart thumping in your ears - but that can’t be right, can it? Your heart is in your chest!

George pulls you behind the stairwell when you reach it. He lets go of your hand. You’re almost sorry about it. George stammers for a second about something, but then he takes a deep breath.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

Oh. Okay. Around you, time stops. There is nothing else in the entire world - there’s only you and George and definitely not a staircase above your head, not a floor underneath your feet, not walls around your body. You nod too quickly.

George laughs and, in slow-motion, really, leans down and presses his mouth against yours. You reach up to touch his face, the other hand resting on his chest. The kiss is slow, soft, a gentle brush against your lips. When he pulls away, he’s smiling even wider.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admits, grabbing your hand again. You let him.

“Honestly, me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Really.”

He leads you out from behind the stairs. The two of you begin to climb. “Hey,” he says out of the blue.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna be my girlfriend?”

You beam. “Of course I do, Georgie.”

He stops when you’re a step above him, making you the same height. George kisses you again. It’s only a second before you melt into it, hands tangled in his hair. You kiss him for so long, when you break apart, you realize you’re late for Divination.

George laughs, “Sorry for making you late.”

“I don’t mind. You’re right, Trelawney probably foresaw that I’d be late because of some stupid ginger Weasley boy.”

“That’s all I am to you, eh? Some stupid ginger Weasley boy?”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course not, George. Now you’re my stupid ginger Weasley boy.”

“Thank Merlin for that!”