#hl: male 01

[callmegaith]

Remember that CHANGE BEGINS WITH US! RESIST! FIGHT FOR YOUR FREEDOM!! ✊️

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE hope I'm feeding yall well with my Citizen art I love them sm

[philliam-writes]

on that tree i'll carve our names (01)

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x fem! Hufflepuff Reader; Sebastian Sallow x Male MC

Synopsis: You have never believed or trusted in Prophecy, not with the way you were brought up. Paying attention to Prophecy is like tossing real diamonds in the air mixed with shards of broken glass. The grab is rarely worth the injury. But when the new fifth year arrives, so do trouble and mischief, and you're inadvertently thrust into adventures and secrets too grand to deal with by yourself. Yet with hardships come friendships, and while you learn to trust the new student with your life, you're less keen on trusting the cunning Sallow boy or the quiet Gaunt heir. Still waters run deep, as they say, and you can't shake off the feeling something dark hides at the bottom of those white-veiled unseeing eyes.

content: canon divergence, fighting prophecy, enemies to friends, reluctant soulmates, platonic soulmates, slow burn, basically HL but Reader isn't MC, angst, hurt and comfort, Sebastian and Reader can't stand each other (until much later), they're all mean, because they're starving for love, will love and kill for each other, dark(ish) ominis, satisfying female rage, also Quidditch because screw Black

notes: [02]

words: 5.9k

a/n: this is so self-indulgent, i don't even know if i'll keep this up. but right now i need to get this out of my system, so here is tragic platonic soulmates with delicious slow burn for borth of them and my favourite slytherin boys. hope you enjoy!

01: hawthorn makes the heart burn

The new student has been at Hogwarts for only a week, and already you cannot stand him.

It’s got nothing to do with the fact that he is a Slytherin. You have never been a fan of the sorting system, because even if it is partly at fault for sticking kids into boxes and teaching them to think in categories, the students surely don’t make it better living by these stereotypes. Not all Slytherins are bad people, just like not all Gryffindors are brave; not every Ravenclaw is a genius, and not every Hufflepuff is a saint, e.g.: You.

“You’re joking! Three Sickles and fifteen Knuts for a Pocket Sneakscope? That’s way too expensive!”

Lifting your eyes from the list of gadgets you need to buy on your next trip to Hogsmeade, you raise an eyebrow at the second-year Ravenclaw boy. He’s taller than most of his fellow housemates, shows signs of a long, hawkish nose and has pimples scattered on his cheeks like a Leaping Toadstool Cap. You can’t really remember his name. Freddy or Fred or August, maybe.

This early in the morning before classes start, the air is especially thick with the smell of late-summer: sweet buddleia in full bloom, the rich green leaves of trees as they sway gently in the wind. Mist hangs low in the valley and over the Great Lake, a milky curtain hiding its resident gently poking long tentacles into the warm sun. The castle is only slowly waking up after a short night—the last grace of long summer days approaching their end as October draws closer.

A beautiful landscape you can hardly enjoy with the second-year’s whiny voice buzzing around your head like an annoying mosquito.

“Look, you wanted a Pocket Sneakscope, I got it for you,” you say and unhitch yourself from the cool stone pillar, one of many holding up the roof of the Viaduct Courtyard’s passageway. “It’s not my fault the underground path is infested with spiders.”

Damned Weasley could have warned you though. You have been using the secret passage under the humpbacked, one-eyed witch leading to the cellar of Honeydukes since your second year when you spied Garreth Weasley sneak through it, and since then you both agreed on staying out of each other’s way as long as nobody rats out the secret passageway to the faculty. He gets to obtain whatever he needs for his weird concoctions, and you get to continue your little business of providing first and second years whatever they want from Hogsmeade since they can’t go themselves yet—all for a certain price. It makes trips to Hogsmeade easier when you can’t use your broom, though the occasional acid spit launched your way is less favourable than the breathtaking view of Hogwarts towering majestically as the sun sets, throwing the whole castle in stark, black contrast against the warm, orange sky.

“Unless you want someone else to get you stuff from Hogsmeade,” you continue with a shrug. “Good luck finding them though.” You move to put the Sneakscope back into your pocket, barely managing to keep on a neutral expression when Freddy or Fred or August, maybe, gasps as though you have reached into the Ravenclaw’s house point hourglass, grabbed a handful sapphires and chucked them at the Headmaster.

“It’s just—it’s just a whole Sickle more than I can spend this month!” he protests, but judging by the quiver of his voice he’ll eat out of your hand in no time.

You give your brightest smile. “Not my problem.”

The Ravenclaw-boy fumes, but when you hold out your hand, he slaps the coins into your open palm, his pale face blotched red with fury.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” You hand over his Pocket Sneakscope and watch him stamp off towards the double doors leading inside the entrance hall. He stops with a small, pale hand on the bronze doorknob, turns around as by his touch alone the doors squeal open with the magic that recognises students entering. “You are the worst Hufflepuff at this school!” he shouts and quickly dashes inside.

You don’t know why he felt the need to point it out. It’s not as though people don’t know who you are: the Hufflepuff who burnt down the left greenhouse in her second year when trying Incendio after agreeing to a bet; the Hufflepuff who broke a Ravenclaw’s nose because said Ravenclaw accused her of cheating in Defence Against the Dark Arts; the Hufflepuff who smoked Silverweed in a corner under the Great Staircase in her third year to see if it would yield any relaxing effects; the Hufflepuff who actually cheated on her very first exam in History of Magic—all in all the Hufflepuff who really should have been sorted into Slytherin on her first day, according to everybody else. Except the Slytherins have no love left for you because you wear yellow.

It is a wonder you have not been expelled yet, surely to do with the fact that despite it all, one student outshines your delinquent record. Your grades are passable, neither at the very top nor bottom, though you do have a knack for quickly learning spells and charms. What keeps you in somewhat good grace is being the Beater for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team—and what a Beater you are: ruthless and quick with strong arms. Maybe not as fast as Slytherin’s Captain on a broom, but you feel comfortable enough up in the air. All your problems seem so much smaller when you soar through the sky. Speaking of Quidditch, a Gryffindor second-year asked you to get a fake Snitch to practice for the team’s try-outs. Hopefully the Spintwitches Sporting Needs opens within in the next week; you’re in need of a new broomstick servicing kit, preferably before practice starts.

You move towards the Great Hall before they clear out breakfast. You did ask Javi to save up some Pumpkin Pastries for you, but he’s been in a foul mood since yesterday because Peeves destroyed a bust in the Astronomy Tower and he had to take the brunt of it. But while you’re crossing the courtyard, you notice a shadow standing under a wide archway, tall and sinewy, though body shapes are usually hard to guess under the loose, floaty school robes. Yet you know that despite looking lanky, this boy is nimble and quick, and his presence is utterly unappreciated—that is how the circle closes; the reason why you can’t stand him.

Even from this distance, you can make out Callum St. Jude’s pale grey eyes—they stand stark against his unruly map of ink-black hair. Paired with skin pale as moonlight, he looks like one of Hogwarts’s residual ghosts.

You feel your face turn into a scowl. It seems that no matter where you are these days, he is lurking nearby. At first you thought he was spying on you to check out the competition for tonight’s Crossing Wands duel. It is the finale after all. But when you had confronted him about it, catching him on his way down to the Slytherin dungeons in the Grand Staircase after your shared Charms class, he had considered you with a blank expression. “Who are you?” he’d asked, looking down at you from a few steps above.

Behind him, trailing him like a shadow since day one, Sebastian Sallow had sniggered. “Seems like you already have admirers,” he’d said with his insufferable haughty voice. “Though that Hufflepuff is more trouble than she’s worth.”

You were about to show him trouble, face hot with shame, when Javi hauled you up, hands under your armpits, and carried you away as if you were a sack of potatoes. “You can’t get detention now, it’s still the first week,” Javi had said mildly.

At least it would have been worth it. It would have been so satisfying to blast that cocky grin off Sallow’s face, to silence St. Jude’s little mocking huff. You firmly believe St. Jude is suffering from the worst ailment to date: Main Character Syndrome.

The symptoms have been evident since his first day: joining Hogwarts as a fifth-year, arriving late to the Sorting Ceremony due to a dragon attack, besting Sallow on his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson (though you can hardly criticise him knocking Sallow down a peg) and mastering every new spell and charm as though it is as easy as breathing. Just last week, he fought off a grown troll and defended Hogsmeade, and now the whole school doesn’t shut up about it.

It is with eager anticipation that you await tonight’s Crossed Wands’s finale. Your fingers practically itch to draw your wand and Flipendo him just to juggle him around a little and wipe that blank expression off his face. He is beautiful, you hate to admit, feeling a sour taste in the back of your throat, but he’s using that face in all the wrong ways. He has the sort of face they’d probably frame in a museum, the kind that’s unbelievably pretty, but unattainable.

“Preying upon second years this early?” St. Jude tuts. “It seems there really is no rest for the wicked.”

“Looks as though I am already punished for it,” you grumble. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

St. Jude cocks his head to the side, looking thoughtful. “Interesting way to talk to someone you fancy.”

“I do not,” you press out between gritted teeth, shouldering past him as he steps into the entrance hall first, “fancy you.” You hope the Thunderbrew potion will be the first you’ll learn in Potions class. Watching St. Jude getting struck by lightning would lighten your mood considerably.

“For someone who pretends not to be interested in me,” he continues, ignoring you, “I see you around an awful lot.”

You consider tripping him as you two ascend the stairs. “Yes, that seems to be the very problem.”

“Won’t make me take it easy on you tonight though.” Since he is nowhere near a gentleman, he doesn’t hold the door open for you and it almost slams in your face. “I always duel to win.”

“I hope you don’t mind spending the next couple of days in the hospital wing.” You bump into his shoulder, hard, when you finally enter the Great Hall and immediately aim for the Hufflepuff table to the far right of the hall without another glance at him.

The hall is buzzing with students, the air filled with the tasty smell of crispy bacon, grilled leak, slightly burnt toast with melting butter on top. It isn’t as crowded as at lunch or dinner time—most students tend to skip breakfast to either sleep in after a long study night or use the hour before classes to finish assignments and homework.

The ceiling shows a clear blue sky with thin clouds drifting past lazily. You slide in the free seat next to your fellow Beater near the front of the table. Javier García is shoving scrambled eggs into his mouth, his bright brown eyes fixed on the Daily Prophet. In your first year, you didn’t pay much attention to him. If you look up Hufflepuff Student in any dictionary, it will show Javi’s face—a hard-working, loyal individual that always reminds you of a golden retriever until he steps on the field and turns into a pit bull from a fighting ring. Every summer he returns to his muggle family where he helps tending to the crops and fields, evident in his arms the size of tree trunks used to heavy lifting. Perfect for hitting Bludgers at opponents and slamming them off their brooms.

You pour yourself coffee and begin spooning slabs of apple-cinnamon-oatmeal into a bowl.

“Ranrok’s Loyalists have put up more camps around the Hogwarts highlands,” Javi says, mouth half-full. “It looks like they’re moving closer towards Hogwarts.”

“Why would they come to Hogwarts? There’s nothing here.”

“The castle has tons of secrets still uncovered. Why wouldn’t they try and get inside?”

“As if they’d manage to get through the defences. Hogwarts is impenetrable.” You take a long sip from your cup, hoping the caffeine kicks in fast. “No one’s going to get inside. Forget about the goblins. Did you see the Quidditch board? Our first game this season is against Gryffindor.”

Javi groans. “I hate their Seeker. Too small to hit with a Bludger, too quick to slam off the broom. We might as well throw in the towel.”

“Don’t let Captain hear that or she’ll turn you into a fox and wear you as a collar.” The Hufflepuff’s Quidditch Captain, Mary J. Lockwood, is sweet in pretty much every aspect except when it comes to Quidditch, and she never hesitates making you take the brunt of it. You’ve stopped counting how often she’d condemned you to run laps around the field as punishment for talking back or disrupting practice.

You finish breakfast and quickly drop by the common room to get your parchments and books for Divination class, hoping it will let time pass quickly until evening. But while staring for roughly an hour into the lazily swirling fog inside a crystal ball without an answer to how this year’s Quidditch season will end, time seemed to move slower than a snail. After dozing off twice and woken up by Adeleide Oakes’s pointy elbow to your ribs before Professor Onai could notice, the class finally ends.

Next up is Herbology and after that you’ve got two free periods until lunch and then end the day with double Potions. It’s a slow day for a Wednesday, and you can’t wait until practice starts in October to give you some change from sitting for hours in the library and going through dusty old tomes or watch the first and second-years getting roped up into playing Gobstones in the common room by the older students, filling it with the putrid smell of its foul liquid. You just enjoy being outdoors more. Which is why Herbology is somewhat fun, even if you and Javi prefer to pass time by betting on who can stick their finger closest to a Chinese Chomping Cabbage, earning a scornful side glance from Leander Prewett.

You promised Samantha Dale and Nellie Oggspire to work on the assigned group project for the essay on Ghouls for DADA during your free period, but when you’re about to set out to the Great Hall to grab a few snacks before going through the list of books you’ll need from the library, Professor Garlick appears before you suddenly as though sprouting from the ground like a flower.

“Oh, delightful, my dear, there you are!” she beams. Small brown parcels flutter around her head like butterflies. “Here is the delivery for Mr. Ollivander, if you’d be so kind and bring them to him now.”

Just in case, you look behind you. Nobody there on the stairs leading up to the central hall. Even Javi has made himself scarce already. She really is talking to you.

“Why me, Professor?” Someone must have hit you with Obliviate. You can’t remember having agreed to any favour for her.

“Oh? Frederick Gustave told me you would offer! Quite an attentive, nice boy! He will grow into a splendid Ravenclaw student one day!” Frederick Gustave? In Ravenclaw? You don’t know anyone called Frederick or Gustave or—the thought strikes you like lightning. Freddy, Fred or August. “All you need to do is bring these little parcels to Mr. Ollivander in Hogsmeade. These are magically nourished woods he has requested, and I am quite eager to see the results for myself.”

With a flick of her wand the parcels change course and begin to circle around your head before you can even begin to explain that this is a huge misunderstanding. She pats your cheek affectionately and twirls around, descending the stairs back to her flowery domain.

Javi is waiting for you at the top of the stairs, ignoring your scowl as he whistles the tune of The School of Jolly Dogs. His face lights up. “Since you’re heading to Hogsmeade, can you bring me some white Chocolate Frogs? Mine hopped out of the window last night because Arty forgot to close it.”

You answer with a rude hand gesture and stomp out of the hall, heading for where you keep your brooms stashed in the Hufflepuff locker room.

~ ⋆｡°✩ ~

The flight to Hogsmeade takes longer than usual. Every time you move too fast, the parcels begin to cry and whine like little abandoned ducklings until they catch up to you. Other than that, it is a beautiful morning as the sun keeps dipping in and out between wispy smears of clouds on the wide blue canvas. The tiny, homey town is alive with witches and wizards scurrying around to get their errands done. The novelty and excitement from visiting Hogsmeade in your third-year has worn off after two years, but it’s still a nice change from the dark school corridors and unending spiralling stair cases.

You leave your broom leaning next to the entrance of Mr. Ollivander’s shop. This shouldn’t take more than five minutes, darting in and out; you’re pretty sure you’ll be quicker than a Niffler digging through a pile of Galleons.

The door swings open easily. It has been five years since you last set foot into the small, cramped shop, yet nothing has changed and suddenly you feel as though you’re eleven again, entering for the first time. It smells of polished wood and something burnt underneath like a misplaced Incendio. Nearly every wall is stacked high with countless wands up to the ceiling, waiting to choose their witch or wizard. Back then you felt very small as a first year, anxious and excited to finally attend Hogwarts and get your own wand—the very first object that truly belonged to you and was not one of your older sisters’ hand-me-downs.

From the back of the shop you hear heavy knocks and a shrill screeching sound that makes you want to put your hands to your ears. Just like five years ago, you reach for the bronze bell on the counter but before your fingers can touch it, it lifts on its own and jingles beautifully. The knocking immediately stops, followed by a last dull clatter and then Mr. Ollivander emerges from the back room, dusting himself off.

He looks at you over the rim of his golden glasses, and a small smile spreads on his face as recognition dawns. The wide counter flap squeaks open when he swishes his wand to step through.

“Ah, the Hawthorn girl,” he says in greeting, quickly closing the space between you and taking your hands in his; you feel every wrinkle against your palm, every patch of rough skin from decades of work as he squeezes your hands. “I have hoped that I would see you soon.”

The question mark must be evident on your face, for Mr. Ollivander explains, “I remember every student and wand I paired, and you my dear, I remember the day five years ago when you came to my shop and your wand found you. Spiral, twelve inches, and a phoenix feather core. Unyielding. But what makes your wand so special is the wood it is made of. Hawthorn makes such a strange, contradictory wand, as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth, whose leaves and blossoms heal, and yet whose cut branches smell of death.” He chuckles to himself, blinking as if lost in a memory; not noticing how tense you are and the way your uneasy smile curls downward. As though you could forget what the hawthorn means. But instead of allowing your mother’s voice inside your head and poisoning your heart, you square your shoulders and pull your hands away from Mr. Ollivander’s grasp.

“Delivery from Professor Garlick,” you say with a faux cheery voice. It seems only then does Mr. Ollivander notice the parcels still fluttering around your head.

“Ah, yes, yes! Allow me.” He points his wand at the parcels, then to his back room and they float through the shop in rank and file, all in proper order. “And here of course, the payment.” Mr. Ollivander hurries behind the counter, and produces a heavy pouch that he hands over to you. It jangles handsomely when you take it from him.

“Well then, I wish you a nice da—”

“Tell me, dear, have you met him?”

Feet already pointed towards the entrance, you turn your body halfway back. “Met who, sir?”

Mr. Ollivander looks up from the account books he’s been writing in. Something glints in his eyes, but maybe it’s just the reflection on his glasses. “Why, the Blackthorn boy of course.”

You rack your brain for anyone you know who’s called Blackthorn but come up empty. “I’m afraid I have not made any acquaintance like that, sir.”

The wandmaker’s eyes are calm, a sparkling blue of sunlight lancing off a stream. “I see,” he says. “Well, my part of this was fulfilled when I matched your wants with you. Everything else is up to you.” He gives you a little secret smile, then goes back to his ledger, the conversation clearly over even though you have dozens of questions swirling in your head.

Back out on Lower High Street, you have been released of the fluttering parcels and instead Mr. Ollivander’s words torment your mind. You can feel a memory hiding behind a thick fog, blurry and barely visible but its presence heavy and lurking like a ghost.

Wasn’t there something he had told you five years ago? When he had presented your wand to you, still resting in its narrow satin casket. You were too excited to pay him any mind—it had sounded too much like one of your mother’s stories; like an augury or worse even, a prophecy—when he had told you about a cursed kingdom, two brothers, and a hawthorn and blackthorn tree. Why listen to old fairy tales when the real adventure—Hogwarts—was waiting for you?

Besides, if by ‘Blackthorn boy’ he meant someone with a blackthorn wand, finding that person would be nearly impossible. And why would you look for him in the first place? Superstitions and divinations have no place in your life. Not after how it had dictated your childhood with a cold iron fist.

The trip back to Hogwarts is significantly faster without having to look after enchanted parcels behaving like newborn Fwoopers. With what happened at Mr. Ollivander’s, you completely forgot to drop by Honeydukes for Javi, which makes him look like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day.

You manage to start your essay for the group project, although you don’t get nowhere near where you wanted to be before the match. Lunch is a blur of tasty shepherd’s pie and grilled mushroom skewers with a small handful of students passing where you sit to wish you good luck, pattung your shoulder hard enough you almost choke on your pumpkin juice. Others send you little notes with crude drawings showing St. Jude zapping you with a spell and losing tonight’s duel. The messages are charmed to head dive into your cup and plate, splattering mashed potatoes on your uniform.

Adeleide plucks a nervously flapping piece of paper out of your meal and unfolds it. “At least they’re creative,” she notices mildly.

You throw a wary glance at the note. “That doesn’t even look like me.”

“I don’t know.” Javi slurps loudly from his cup. “They got your scowl right.”

Double Potions after lunch flies by for a change. Your Wiggenweld Potion tends to be a tad bluer than Professor Sharp’s apple green concoction bubbling at the front table for reference, but you have a hard time focusing when your mind is already occupied with how tonight’s duel might go.

You have a handful favourite spells that you’ve practised long enough they come as easy to you as breathing. But from what you have seen during the last Crossed Wands duels where St. Jude has participated, he seems to have a natural gift for duelling. You’ve heard he competed alongside Sallow in his first duel, but every after he’s been on his own and you’ve seen the battered and bruised leftover competitors limping out of the Clock Tower. You don’t plan to follow in their footsteps.

When evening falls on the castle and the long, narrow corridors awake with dim candlelight, you follow the throng of hooded students hurrying towards the Clock Tower after dinner. The excitement ripples through the lines of people like a physical force, alive and rearing when the first students file into the Clock Tower and find a seat close to the walls and away from accidental stray spells.

You spot Lucan Brattleby surrounded by a handful Hufflepuff and Slytherin students. Javi is among them, and when you draw closer you notice the ledger in Lucan’s hand and the Sickles being passed between him and Javi.

Javi startles when you step next to him like a Mooncalf facing an oncoming card. “Hiya,” he says in the very familiar voice that sounds a lot like him hoping you won’t be mad.

You raise an eyebrow. “Placing bets?” Your eyes linger on the page as you scan the names on the chart on your side. Only a few names—Leander, who’s been especially snappy since he lost against St. Jude in the semifinals, a handful other Gryffindors, one or two Ravenclaws and the rest are students from your house. On St. Jude’s column, Lucan has started to write the names as tiny as possible to fit them all on the page. Javi’s is amongst them. He ducks away from your scrutinising gaze. “He slew a fully-grown troll last week!” he pleads his case. So much for the infamous Hufflepuff loyalty. “I’ll invite you to Honyedukes after and pay whatever you want from the win.”

“Whatever.” You turn away to get ready, walking into a hard, solid body.

Callum St. Jude steadies you before you can stumble. “Easy there.” His smile slices white. “Am I already sweeping you off your feet? We haven’t even started yet.”

You shrug his hand off your arm. “The only sweeping happening today is when I wipe the floor with you, St. Jude.”

He hums thoughtfully. “We’ll see.”

You stare daggers at his back as he retreats to his side of the hall, welcomed by other Slytherin students who pat his back and ruffle his unruly jet-black hair as though he is the fifth year’s Champion already. He doesn’t linger around them for too long, and instead retreats to a far corner where Sallow is already waiting for him. What an annoying duo.

Tugging your black robe off, you begin to stretch your limbs. For today’s occasions you’ve chosen to wear a simple shirt with ribbon uniform tucked into your plaid trousers. More mobility, less fabric flapping around. A tie or a blazer would allow too much surface for a nasty Accio. From the last duels you’ve watched, you know St. Jude is as sharp as a whip, and he uses everything in his so far meagre arsenal of spells to win.

You’ll need to keep all your wits about you. If he, and the majority assembled under the giant swinging pendulum today, underestimate you, it will be your pleasure to remind them what vicious creatures badgers are. And that they devour snakes.

When you turn, St. Jude is already standing ready, his wand raised. He’s shrugged out of his robes as well and pulled off his tie, following your example. Gone is the hint of the cocky smile he always wears, so infuriating and inviting to punch. Now he is serious, his face an impassive mask that betrays nothing but you have seen it change within a heartbeat before knocking an opponent out with a savage blast of his wand. Like a snake, waiting and watching, until it strikes viciously and sinks its venomous fangs into your skin.

“Attention!” Lucan Brattleby hops in the centre, his arms raised. “Wizards and witches! Welcome to the fifth year’s Crossed Wands Championship Round!” He lets the audience get the whistling and bellowing out of their system before he introduces both parties. “Competitors, let’s get started!”

He quickly dashes out of the way—rightly so, for St. Jude’s opening move is always a lightning-quick Levioso, just like Professor Hecat taught him. You dodge the spell and hear it disperse against the wall behind you, feeling the sparks nip your skin.

“Accio!” You whip your wand towards you, only able to catch St. Jude by the cuff of his white sleeve as he evades with a side-step. But it’s enough to unbalance him as his arm is pulled in your direction and he retaliates by using the moment to blast a few Basic Casts your way which you block by well-timed Protegos.

The crowd’s cheers disappears into background noise as you and St. Jude continue your tense dance of attack and parry; a step forward, another step back, his Incendio is answered by your Glacius; since he prefers fire you do him the pleasure of casting Confringo which forces him to dive to the side. Your spell blasts the wooden weapon rack behind him into splinters and pieces, showering the Slytherins sitting beside it with glowing embers.

“Come on, new guy, give her a proper Slytherin treatment!” one of them yells. St. Jude doesn’t let himself get distracted, not even by the instructions of his fellow housemates or the quips from your side of the room. His eyes are pinning you like a butterfly on a corkboard, following your every step. They are frighteningly bright, you have the feeling that no move will go past him.

From behind you, you pull a large crate from under the buttocks of two Gryffindors with Accio, ignoring their protests when in the last second you fling it bodily towards St. Jude with Depulso. You’ve been working on the right timing for this for a long time—people usually don’t expect to be thrown at with things instead of spells. It hurls through the hall, and to your utter astonishment St. Jude blocks it in the last second with a flying object of his own—a practice dummy.

But where was the spell? You didn’t see him cast one when he hurled that dummy through the air.

At your puzzled expression, St. Jude grins at you, his smile so sudden and jarring as a thunderclap. You narrow your eyes. There’s something growing in the pit of your stomach, rearing its ugly head and snapping sharp, volatile teeth. Basic Casts don’t feel enough, and every vicious Diffindo St. Jude parries or dodges in the last moment. His retaliation is a fiery Incendio after Incendio—you’d think after this time one of you would grow weaker, lose focus, but the heat flaring your way and the flames licking up your uniform feel anything but harmless or tame.

Sweat runs down your temples, along your cheeks, down your neck. Your wand feels hot in your hand, but you grip it tighter, knuckles white. Your lungs feel tight in your chest, but you breathe in stronger, eyes wide. That rage that always lives inside you rears. It is an almost physical pain, like nails against flesh; like teeth against bars. That unwanted animal is starving, it wants nothing more than to get out and you’re surprised nobody else can hear it howling.

“Not as quick or cunning as that Sallow boy, but her spells pack a mean punch,” they say about you. You couldn’t best Sallow, and now there is this new contender and you refuse, refuse to slide down to number three; always coming in last, always pushed aside. You snarl at St. Jude as though trying to wrap your teeth around the world.

The air crackles with magic. Faintly, you hear an echo of a familiar voice. “Do not be surprised at your wand’s ability to perceive your intentions—particularly in a moment of need.”

It seems your wand shares your taste for violence—you can feel that this is the best Expulso you have executed since you taught yourself the spell in year four. You swing your arm, wand scorching hot in your hand—vibrating even—and hurl the Blasting Spell at St. Jude.

You can see his mouth move as he speaks a spell, blue sparks fly from the tip of his wand and then crackling lightning intercepts your attack. Through the sparks and bolts you see St. Jude’s puzzled expression—now is the chance to strike. A surprised opponent is a weak opponent; you swing your arm back—your arm is stuck.

From the tip of your wand a wiry crimson light crackles across the room, connected to St. Jude’s wand. When you try pulling back again, an invisible force lurches you forward, forcing your arm up until the thin light grows stronger, redder like spilt blood. Your arm shakes with the feeling of wrongness crawling up your arm, a kernel of god-awful flavour that has you biting your bottom lip. You feel an awareness. No. More than awareness, more sentient than that. It is recognition.

The point of your wand, shining a blazing white, shakes with the effort of you trying to pull back; shakes from whatever magic is transpiring between you two. On the other side, St. Jude has his free hand around his other wrist, trying to lower his wand, his face as white as a wall. To no avail.

The magic spreading from your wand through your body is like curious, warm fingers touching up along your arm, curling around your shoulder, settling against your cheek. They wander lower and splay across your chest, then sink through your ribs. Close around your heart. Squeeze.

The world explodes.

The magical blast sends you flying. Your teeth clang together as you slam on your back. Pain radiates through your body. Black dots dance before your eyes and blur your vision as you’re struggling for air.

A hushed silence has settled inside the Clock Tower. You shake your head, your free hand rising to your chest where you still feel a sharp twinge. Gingerly, you pick yourself up, carefully feeling for injuries. The whole room is a mess as though a wild Graphorn has ravaged inside and destroyed most of the furnishings. When your eyes lock with St. Jude’s across the room, your heart beats in your throat, making it hard to breathe.

Mirroring you, one hand is pressed against his chest, the other holds his wand in a vice-grip as though his life depends on it. You see him shudder helplessly, as if it were winter and he has gone outside without gloves and caught a terrible chill. His eyes meet yours, then drop to your wand. His lips mouth a single word, and you stare at him, throat tight, the cold sweat sensation of dread spreading slowly through your limbs.

And all of a sudden, you remember very clearly one thing Mr. Ollivander had told you all those years ago.

Once your paths cross, your fates will be irrevocably connected, growing together like the roots of old trees. Your wands have come from the same seed. There is no doubt that you fill find him.

Your Blackthorn boy.

A/N: If anyone is interested in this story, I can make a taglist :) Would also appreciate any sort of feedback, or just hitting the little heart so show me you enjoyed it

[genderonthescreen-blog]

Queer Representation: How Can We Get The Gays to Watch Our Movie?

The Vito Russo Test is the queer equivalent to the Bechdel Test (which tests the representation of women in films). It was created by GLAAD (Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) and is used to test the representation of LGBTQ+ people in film. The way a film passes the test is if there is an “identifiably lesbian, gay, bisexual and/or transgender” character who isn’t defined by their sexuality and/or gender identity, and who is significant to the plot. Despite the fact this test is quite easy to pass, most films do not. Out of the 109 films released by major studios in 2017 only 14 had LGBTQ+ characters in them (that’s 12.8%). Gay men are the most represented out of those 14 films (64% or 9 out of the 14 films feature a gay man that pass the test) while trans people are the least represented in 2017 (zero out of the 14 films featured transgender characters). These numbers are insanely low, and shows that there is a clear problem with the representation of LGBTQ+ people in films.

But, even in the movies that feature LGBTQ+ characters, how well are they being represented, really? Films like Call Me By Your Name (2017), Carol (2015), Blue Is The Warmest Color (2013), and Brokeback Mountain (2005) have all been praised as iconic queer movies with great representation, but how great is this representation? Right off the bat you can see that all of these characters are white. Not a huge surprise when it comes to Hollywood, considering how bad they are at representing people of color, but, still, not all queer people are white, obviously—Marsha P. Johnson, anybody? How about happy endings? Shouldn’t queer people be allowed to see a relationship like their own end happily? Well, it seems not. In Call Me By Your Name, they break up; in Blue Is The Warmest Color, they break up; in Brokeback Mountain, they break up and one of them dies (the good-olde “bury your gays” trope https://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2017/06/30/queerbaiting-bury-your-gays-tv_a_23005000/ )! Carol seems to be the only one that has a semi-happy ending. Although, Therese (Rooney Mara) and Carol (Cate Blanchett) do breakup at one point, at the end of the film it is implied that they get back together. An implication is a we can get apparently. Oversexualization is also an issue. All of these movies have semi-graphic sex scenes in them, with Blue Is The Warmest Color’s sex scenes are borderline pornography—and definitely from the male gaze. Now, sex isn’t the problem here, if a director wants to show two characters getting it on, they very well should be allowed to do so! The problem is that the only kind of movies that are popular and feature queer people at the forefront are romantic dramas (usually tragic) that are very heavy on the sexual discovery. This would be fine if there were just as many goofy LGBTQ+ romantic comedies or action movies with queer leads as there are LGBTQ+ romantic tragedies.

Now, that’s not to say things aren’t getting better! With the release and success of Love, Simon in 2018, a romantic comedy about a teenage boy coming out as gay, things are, hopefully, starting to look up. However, there has recently been a new disturbing trend when it come to LGBTQ+ representation in films. A film will announce that there is an “openly gay” character in their movie before the film is released. Thus, attracting a large queer audience that is sorely disappointed when they realize “openly gay” actually means “not openly gay at all.” Take Beauty and the Beast (2017) for example. Before the release of Beauty and the Beast, Dir. Bill Condon announced that there was going to be an “exclusively gay moment” (WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN?) in the film involving LeFou (Josh Gad), Gaston’s groveling sidekick. Fans were obviously excited! But, when the movie came out, what we got was very a stereotypical depiction of a gay man (who is supposed to be crushing on Gaston?), and one moment (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sadujj45Y90 blink and you’ll miss it) where LeFou accidentally starts dancing with another man and… that’s it—wow, how groundbreaking.

While there is at least a small moment in Beauty and the Beast, other films that use this tactic to get a more diverse audience don’t even bother following through. Before the release of the much anticipated Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), screenwriter Jonathan Kasdan announced that Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover) is pansexual. This revelation prompted fans to go crazy, but when the movie came out there was nothing, besides some semi-flirty lines and an “implied” romantic relationship with a droid (okay…), explicit in the film that showed Lando’s pansexuality. Some people (https://lwlies.com/articles/queerbaiting-solo-lando-calrissian/ ) are calling this trend, a new from of queerbaiting, and going by the definition (“the practice of hinting at, but then not actually depicting, a same-sex romantic relationship between characters in a work of fiction, mainly in film or television” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queerbaiting ) I’m have to agree. Except, this kind of queerbaiting is almost worse because the “hinting” starts before the film comes out. Therefore filmmakers are literally using a the possibility of a potentially queer character as bait to get more LGBTQ+ moviegoers into their theaters.

There are other, less nefarious, examples of this kind of queerbaiting. Tessa Thompson, who plays Valkyrie in Thor Ragnarok (2017), made a post on twitter before the film came out about how her character is bisexual and how she wanted that to come through on the big screen. However, she was quick to add that Valkyrie’s sexuality is never explicitly shown in Thor Ragnarok (https://www.avclub.com/thor-ragnarok-ultimately-cut-the-one-scene-that-confir-1820047758 check out this article). It’s clear that Thompson wan’t trying to get more LGBTQ+ people to see Thor Ragnarok, she was just trying to spread the word about her character’s sexuality—Valkyrie is canonically bisexual in the comic books.The character of Albus Dumbledore, the grandfatherly headmaster of Hogwarts from the Harry Potter film and book series, could also be another example of this kind of queerbaiting. However, unlike all of the other examples, Dumbledore’s sexuality was revealed by author JK Rowling after the release of the last Harry Potter book in 2007 (https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/story?id=3755544&page=1 check out this article from that year talking about it). Dumbledore’s sexuality was never explicit in the Harry Potter books or movies, but recently Rowling has started another film series that takes place in the Potter universe (but during the 1920s) called Fantastic Beasts. Before the release of the second installment, it was announced that Jude Law would be playing a young Dumbledore in that next film (Fantastic Beasts and the Crimes of Grindelwald), and people began to ask if Dumbledore’s sexuality is going to be addressed in these films. Not much was said by Rowling, but before the movie was released Dir. David Yates said Dumbledore’s sexuality is not “explicitly” shown in the film. Fans were obviously upset be this—myself included. However, after seeing the movie, I feel like it’s safe to say only a person in serious denial would claim that Dumbledore is straight after watching The Crimes of Grindelwald. There isn’t anything “explicit” in the movie (Dumbledore doesn’t say “I’m gay” or kisses a man) but the relationship between Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, the antagonist of the series and Dumbledore’s ex-lover, is shown or alluded to in in more ways than one—not explicitly telling the audience about his sexuality is in character for Dumbledore, who has always been secretive. As a fan of Harry Potter and the Fantastic Beasts films, I hope in future installments Dumbledore’s sexuality will be more explored—and it should, especially since the main antagonist is his ex-boyfriend!

Queer representation is important. The constant censoring of LGBTQ+ people and relationships in media needs to end. It’s often said that this kind of censorship is to protects kids from exposure to “inappropriate” content. News flash, there are kids out there who are queer! (Because queer people have always been queer.) I remember when I was a kid how big of an impact seeing queer characters and couples in film and TV were for me. Seeing characters like Tara (Amber Benson) and Willow (Alyson Hannigan) from Buffy the Vampire Slayer made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Even though queer representation in film is still lacking it’s getting better, and it’s getting even better on TV shows! The Legend of Korra, and Steven Universe are two kids shows that feature LGBTQ+ couples. Sense 8, Orange is the New Black, Queer Eye and Black Mirror (specifically season 3’s episode San Junipero) are all Netflix original series that have great LGBTQ+ representation and/or are LGBTQ+ centric—trans characters played by actual trans actors? YES! Things are looking up and I have high hopes for the future when it comes to queer representation.

.

.

.

Check out these cool sources!

https://lwlies.com/articles/queerbaiting-solo-lando-calrissian/

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/03/01/disney-launches-first-exclusively-gay-moment-beauty-beast/

https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/entertainthis/2018/05/17/lando-calrissian-pansexual-solo-star-wars-reaction/620566002/

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/16/movies/jude-law-dumbledore-gay.html

https://www.thedailybeast.com/glaad-report-hollywood-is-failing-lgbt-characters-in-its-movies

https://books.google.com/books?id=AoQrDwAAQBAJ&pg=PT143&dq=the+vito+russo+test&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj25Yj_oaDfAhXwx1kKHZODBU0Q6AEIMDAB#v=onepage&q=the%20vito%20russo%20test&f=false

https://www.glaad.org/sri/2018/vitorusso

https://www.glaad.org/sri/2018/overview

How about this cooler bibliography!

https://books.google.com/books?id=UWtECwAAQBAJ&pg=PT203&dq=queerbaiting&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjJ6M3zzprfAhWu11kKHT6ZAcwQuwUIMTAB#v=onepage&q=queerbaiting&f=false

https://books.google.com/books?id=f6YwSZlsyJMC&printsec=frontcover&dq=lgbt+film&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjprcyuz5rfAhXSq1kKHbkGAzgQuwUILTAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

https://books.google.com/books?id=jI_IHFUidlwC&printsec=frontcover&dq=lgbt+film&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjprcyuz5rfAhXSq1kKHbkGAzgQuwUIUTAH#v=onepage&q&f=false

https://books.google.com/books?id=ROhSbOQIzmYC&pg=PA31&dq=the+hays+code&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj6tc3zzJrfAhXIqFkKHaOoAUQQuwUITDAG#v=onepage&q=the%20hays%20code&f=false

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/we-need-to-talk-about-lgbt-representation-apparently_us_5a3d4dede4b06cd2bd03da68

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0HsPIquRmc

https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2018/05/22/lgbt-representation-in-hollywood-has-somehow-got-even-worse/

Photo credits go to Netflix.

[friendsofmorenovalleyanimals]

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[instapromote12]

Measurements for Male and Female Goats Varied Studies were assigned in stir, Oye and Ikole LGA in Ekiti state to examine the phenotypic characteristic of West African Dwarf goats (WAD). 132 West African Dwarf Goats comprising sixty six females and sixty six males were indiscriminately selected for the study. The aim was to document the body characteristics of the WAD goats in three native governments in Ekiti State, Federal Republic of Nigeria and in addition to examine the results of sex on the body characteristics. The experimental style: randomized complete block style (RCBD) and implies that were separated exploitation Tukey’s check. Results from body linear measurements for male and female goats varied between sixty four, 7.00cm for females and forty four centimetre for males on heart girth (HG), linear measure (BL), wither height (WH), rump height (RH), Tail length (TL), Ear length (EL), and Horn length (HL) severally. Pearson correlation analysis showed that body weights may be expected accurately from HG, and BL, WH and RH. The study indicated that the HG was successfully used for predicting BWT of WAD goats measured inside the three LGA’s and so the information obtained throughout this analysis would be useful for goat phenotypic characterization of West African Dwarf (WAD) goats. The analysis of variance (ANOVA) for the seven quantitative traits thought-about throughout this study showed utterly completely different levels of significance ranging from P= zero.05 to P= 0.01. two traits (BL, TL) showed very important (P zero.05) distinction among the goats. there is extraordinarily very important (P zero.01) distinction between the male and female goat for HG. Location showed no very important distinction (P zero.05) for HG, BWT, WH, RH, EL and HL. Sex showed extraordinarily very important (P zero.05) distinction inside the male and female goats. Location and sex interaction showed no very important distinction (P zero.05) altogether the quantitative traits measured. constant of variation (CV %) of all the traits resulted from low (10%) to high (41%).

[siberian-cats-cattery]

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[seguire-dio-onnipotente-blog]

Sono disposta ad accettare la supervisione di tutti

Sono disposta ad accettare la supervisione di tutti

Sono disposta ad accettare la supervisione di tutti

Xianshang Città di Jinzhong, Provincia di Shanxi

Un po’ di tempo fa, ogni volta che sentivo che i predicatori di distretto sarebbero venuti nella nostra chiesa, mi sentivo un po’ a disagio. Non rivelavo apertamente i miei sentimenti, ma il mio cuore era pieno di segreta contrarietà. Pensavo: “Sarebbe meglio se tutti voi non veniste. Se…

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[philliam-writes]

on that tree i'll carve our names (02)

pairing: Omins Gaunt x fem! Hufflepuff Reader / Sebastian Sallow x Male MC

summary: Call lowers his eyes to Sebastian’s, and they trade a look that feels like a dare. He realises he enjoys the challenge hidden behind those words; this little game of cat and mouse, except they both think they are the cat. Sebastian is sharp as a whip—but Call has lived the first decade of his life in a house divided where walls are thin and dealing with secrets becomes a delicate business of life and death.

notes: [01] | [03]

words: 4.9k

a/n: thank you so much everybody who left a like and a little comment!! the brainrot goes so hard, there hasn't been a day where i wasn't thinking of HL or jotting thoughts about the fanfic. also reading A LOT so if you can recommend me good fanfics, i WILL EAT

02: blackthorn makes the soul yearn

The room still spins when you climb to your feet, eyes fixed on anything but the Slytherin boy. Lucan Brattleby, for the first time since you have known him, seems to be at a loss for words. The other students have already begun casting Reparo on the destroyed objects, the giant pendulum swinging at an ankle as though barely hanging on by a thread, setting things back into order before a teacher comes up and sees the havoc you have caused.

“Does this mean we have a draw?” Lucan thinks aloud, holding tightly onto his little ledger with the bets written inside. His voice almost drowns under the turmoil of other voices.

“What was that?”

“Did you see the power of that spell?”

“Felt like some really advanced magic.”

Advanced magic? No, this felt like magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable. Old, very old.

Involuntarily, your eyes move to St. Jude. From across the room, he’s staring at you, wide-eyed and breathing hard. It frightens you how easily you can read his expression now, and it scares you more that some part of it might be mirrored on your own face before you can guard yourself against that emotion.

He looks at you as if you are the answer. As if should he trace your name, it would spell home. As though he has been waiting for you all his life. You feel sick.

“Once we’ve cleared the place, we’ll resume the duel!” Lucan announces to the crowd, trying to appease them before they pounce onto him and demand their money back.

You feel your stomach churn, cold sweat running down your back. The cheering crowd is the last drop falling into the overflowing cauldron, spilling its toxic concoction.

“I forfeit!” you bellow. A deathlike hush falls over the room. “I forfeit the match!”

The silence lasts for about a second before the crowd explodes with discord. You push Lucan to the side, who sticks to you like a tick trying to persuade you to continue. Those who have bet on you are even less happy. You duck away from their glares, marching towards Javi who’s thrown your robe over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You don’t even know where to begin. How to begin to explain something you don’t understand yourself, your head a spinning container for wildly running thoughts you can’t get a hold of. For now you need to get out of here, into the Hufflepuff common room because that’s where he can’t follow—

In a flash, someone’s hand snakes out and seizes your wrist. The room comes into sudden focus. St. Jude has a wild, expecting gaze, hungry in a way that makes you immediately want to redraw your wand and throw him to the other side of the room.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice hoarse. He holds his head slightly lowered and looks at you with his grey eyes from under thick, dark lashes.

You pry your wrist from his hold. “We have nothing to talk about.” You tear your robe from Javi’s hold, cramming your arms through the robe’s sleeves as though you’re putting on an armour. Out of the corner of your eyes you notice Javi rising to his feet, ready to step in.

St. Jude doesn’t spare him a glance. He lowers his voice, and you can her the tremble in it, how much effort it takes him to form this one little word. “Please.”

So there is reason one why you agree; or rather you convince yourself it is one of the reasons why you agree: he does something so uncharacteristically for a Slytherin; he asks. But secondly, and most important, you have to destroy this feeling by its roots; cut it off, burn it. Tear down the walls, don’t keep it in. You will not be afraid of him, of any man as long as you breathe.

Drawing your shoulders up, you jut your chin towards the Clock Tower Courtyard. “Five minutes.” Leaving no room for protests or complaints, you lead the way, swiftly dodging a floating wooden plank on its way to reattach to a bench. Quick steps hurry after you, tripping over themselves in their haste to catch up. The Clock Tower Courtyard is deserted this late in the evening, most students are still gathered inside the tower, cleaning up after the fight. The first stars twinkle through a wispy cloud cover, impatient to be the witnesses to your conversation.

St. Jude slumps onto the fountain at the centre, rubbing at his eyes as though he can force whatever exhaustion he’s feeling from the battle away. Yet there’s an energy you feel strumming in his bones as though he’s a high-strung fuse ready to blow. When he looks back at you expectantly, you make sure there’s an arm’s length of space between you when settle against the fountain.

“That’s it.” When you glance his way, he’s nodding at your wand as he speaks. “That’s the other wand, isn’t it?”

You have the urge to hide it away inside your pocket, away from his prying eyes. “So?”

“Mr. Ollivander only said—”

“Mr. Ollivander’s got a few screws loose, it doesn’t matter what he said.” It comes out harsher than intended, followed by a sharp twinge of guilt towards the old man who has been nothing but kind.

St. Jude takes a deep breath. Maybe his patience with you will run out first and he’ll leave you alone, realising whatever it is that he wants from you, you can’t give him. “All he said was I would meet someone connected to my wand.” He twirls it between his long, slender fingers. He’s wearing a ring which glints whenever it catches the light from the castle, winking at you. “And once I’d meet them—her, the Hawthorn girl he’d said, then I would get an explanation.”

“That’s a great way to leave the responsibility to someone else,” you grumble. St. Jude huffs as though saying Tell me about it. And it’s true, you’ve seen him run errands for a couple other students—for money, which you can’t really hold against him with your own little side business. But you also don’t understand why he bothers at all. He doesn’t strike you as someone who’s suffering from chronic People Pleasing. Knowing you have something common with him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “It’s not as though I know everything about it,” you continue. “Apart from a story Mr. Ollivander told me when he first handed me my wand five years ago.”

Now St. Jude fully turns to you, waiting. Just watching. His silver yes glint like the stars above.

“A long time ago, there was a kingdom. The king and his wife were generous, benevolent rulers beloved by their people. They could have anything they wanted, yet what their heart yearned for the most, they could not have.”

You pause, frowning. Up until now, you couldn’t even remember small details from the story. But now, next to St. Jude, it’s like a stone cracking a dam. Words pour out, a spray of water backed with the force of a river. You stare down at your wand in your hand. Maybe it’s not really you telling the story.

“No matter how often they tried, the queen could not conceive a child. In their desperation, they sought out a witch. She agreed to help, as long as they promised that should they at any point conceive a second child, that child would belong to the witch, for she was alone and lonely, and wanted nothing more than a child herself. To love and nourish, to pass on her secrets from the bog, of the rockroses and thistles. In their desperation the king and queen agreed, thinking that with one child only, their happiness would be fulfilled and therefore they would not have to keep their promise to the witch.

“So when the time came, the queen gave birth to not one, but two children. Beautiful twin boys. The kingdom celebrated for weeks and during those few days, the king and queen were the happiest people. They forgot their vow to the witch, so when she came to claim one boy, the king refused. He would go so far as to take up arms to protect his family. Of course that could not stop the witch. Angered by the broken vow she swore that she would return and stole one of the twin boys to her bog.

“The witch loved the boy as if he was her own, and he grew up to be a handsome man, kind and with a natural talent to her craft. The witch never kept from him the truth that he was the king and queen’s son. That he was heir to the throne. That he has a brother, and that one day, all that could belong to him. That he could return to his family any time if he wished so, for she wasn’t cruel. She loved him, and she wanted him happy. But the boy never wished for any of it. He was content with his surrogate mother, loved their humble home out in the wild. He had heard from the foxes and crows of how cruel the king had become, greedy and ruling with a cold iron-fist. No, he wanted no part of a cursed kingdom like that.

“One day, when he was out to collect herbs for a potion, his brother came to his home, for he was told that his brother was taken by an evil witch who steals children and eats them. He slew the witch who would never have harmed her son’s brother. When her son come home and found her dead, the pain of her loss tore him apart. He swore vengeance. He rode out and challenged his own brother, and they fought for days and days until finally, their swords pierced each other’s hearts. And where they slew each other, the earth drank their blood, and there, from one seed, grew a hawthorn and blackthorn tree.” Your mouth is dry, your lips parched from so much talking. “Our wands are made from that tree. One hawthorn, one blackthorn. Or so the story goes.”

The silence that falls is deafening. You feel a little light-headed after recounting that tale, confused and weirdly shaking with anticipation as though after speaking these words aloud, a century-long closed vault has been unlocked and the hidden contents set free.

Beside you, St. Jude is very quiet. He’s staring out at the courtyard, unblinking. He seems as far away as the stars twinkling above you in the black sky as though laughing at whatever strange tale is unfolding; as though already knowing how the story will end yet undecided if to call it a comedy or tragedy.

Finally, St. Jude exhales very, very slowly. “What exactly does this mean for us?”

You sit up a little straighter. “Nothing. It’s just an old tale. There is no us.” The word scrapes along your spine like a jagged knife.

“You felt that,” he says, his voice urgent. “There’s more to this than just a story.”

“You want to believe that, don’t you?” You try swallowing down the irritation, but you have never been good at keeping down your scorn when it comes to believing old tales. The paper cut that kills one, the priest that one ignores; listening to voices of the deep, joining the wolves that circle around the sheep. Don’t point at the moon or your ears get cut off, don’t whistle at night or wandering spirits will carry you off. Your mother’s voice is a raging cacophony thrumming in your head, stirring and probing in a flesh wound that hides your heart. “In a blood feud? Fratricide, by Merlin’s beard.” You unhitch yourself from the fountain and start pacing. “Someone must have come up with the story to make the wands more exciting, that’s all there is.”

“And if it’s not? What if it’s real?” St. Jude’s voice is calm in comparison to your agitation. It makes you even angrier to see him this composed, so full of himself. To believe in superstition and words that have lied dead for so long speaking them now kicks up age-old dust that makes you choke. “I don’t think we are meant to follow in their steps and duel each other to death. But there is more to the connection. Maybe an end to the feud.”

You roll your eyes so hard you get a headache. He gives you a headache. “Rubbish. Why us? We’re just kids.”

St. Jude’s eyelashes flutter as he lowers his eyelids, looking like a martyr put on the cross. Infuriatingly, transcendently beautiful; you don’t know what to do with something so naturally beautiful except maybe corrupt it.

“Providence,” he then whispers. “The wand chooses its owner.”

You bark out a hollow laugh, ghastly and horrible in the growing night. “You think this is a prophecy? You think we are meant to do something?” You stop pacing, shaking your head wildly as though trying to snap your own neck. Paying attention to prophecy is like tossing real diamonds in the air mixed with shards of broken glass. The grab is rarely worth the injury. “You’re wrong.”

Finally, St. Jude looks up. There’s a blaze in his eyes, a roaring fire, threatening to consume you. “You are afraid,” he says slowly, understanding dawning. “Of what? Fate?” He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and intertwining his long fingers. “Me?”

“I’m afraid your ego might be a little too big for you to handle.” You brush dirt from your robes, meticulously taking care that no crease sits in the wrong spot just so you don’t have to look at him. You fear all your secrets will be plain on your face for him to read. “This conversation is over, St. Jude. I’m wasting my time here.”

You really should have known better than to allow him to step inside your life. This was a mistake, one you don’t intend to repeat. You turn towards the Clock Tower, ready to leave when you hear him stand up behind you.

“You’re going to ignore it? Just like that?” St. Jude calls after your, and he has the gall to sound accusatory—where has his calm gone? Nothing of the composed boy remains, he looks furious. Betrayed, even. He looks like he is one argument away from a scream.

You whirl around, your tone taunt like a bowstring drawing back a poison-tipped arrow. “What did you expect? Do you think you’re the main character of some story? That we’re on a big, great adventure? Grow up, St. Jude! Stop bothering me because you wish any of this was real!”

Before he can say anything, you go—flee, almost, and make sure to bump bodily into Sebastian Sallow’s shoulder who’s standing in the shadows of the Clock Tower’s passageway, waiting for St. Jude. It feels good to lash out, to do something with that raging anger thrumming under your skin, always kept on a leash, and nothing gets your blood quite boiling like the sight of Sallow parading around as though he owns the place.

You can’t deal with these expectations, all based on nothing but a tale. If Callum St. Jude wants to play hero, you don’t want to get involved.

With your nerves on fire and raw, you don’t notice the boy until it’s too late—you walk right into a Slytherin who has his back to you. After what just happened, seeing the colour green only stokes the raging fire in your chest. “Watch where you’re going,” you snap at him, voice loud enough it draws the attention of a few other students.

The boy turns. You immediately recognise him and feel the ground give way under your feet. “As you can see,” the boy—not just a boy, Ominis Gaunt, says calmly, his voice colder than the Black Lake in winter, “I can’t.”

A burst of laughter explodes around you. Of course with all your luck today, you had to encounter the third of the infamous Silver Trio. There’s not a single soul at Hogwarts that doesn’t know the name of Ominis Gaunt, heir to the House of Gaunt and descendant of one of Hogwarts’ founders: Salazar Slytherin.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. You’re painfully aware you’re standing too close to him, right at the centre of a Slytherin group that stalks around you like hungry hyenas ready to pounce on their prey—and that’s new, since when are snakes pack hunters?

Gaunt tilts his head towards the crowd only so slightly, his brow slightly furrowed as if he doesn’t quite understand the joke everybody is laughing about. His unseeing eyes are set ahead of him, unblinking, like a silver coin glinting off moonlight.

You can’t even bring up a half-hearted apology, feeling like you’re drowning in the turmoil swirling inside you. You’re not sure what it is you’re feeling. Something like anger, but with far more shame attached. Anger as a means of defence, anger you know is completely misplaced. But still you sneer at him, “All that pure-blood you Slytherins pride yourself on and you can’t even find your way around without being on Sallow’s leash like a dog?”

He halts. For a moment, you think his eyes settle on you, but then they graze over your head and he moves—fluid, abrupt, and far too close. You can practically—no, definitely smell him. Earl Gray tea, the breeze of the black lake, and something else, something sweet you can’t place. You grow very still, as though despite being unable to see, he might sense your slightest move. “Careful.” His voice is quiet. Lethal. Just a drop of poison in a tea cup left to do its work. “Dogs on a leash have the most vicious bites.”

Ominis steps away, as though nothing has happened. You expel air very, very slowly. What is that intoxicating sweet smell on him? Subtle, but fogging up your brain and making it hard to think.

Javi appears at your side, nudging your elbow. The crowd is dispersing, everybody is returning to their common rooms.

“Come one, Gaunt, let’s go before more rats from that piss-yellow house show up,” a Slytherin boy says—none other than one of the Malfoy siblings you have the misfortune to be in the same year, Tiberius Malfoy. He and his sister, Drusilla, are both Chasers for the Syltherin team, playing dirty at every opportunity and cheating through every test. They’re cruel, think their good looks and family name can excuse anything, and have no shame or conscience setting Muggle-born students’ robes on fire whenever they feel like it.

Ominis pulls out his wand, its pointy tip flashing red as he moves—seemingly ignoring his fellow housemate, he manoeuvres smoothly through the web of passing students towards the Clock Tower Courtyard, undoubtedly in search of his surrogate pair of eyes, Sallow.

You don’t miss Malfoy struggling, face flushed, to keep his anger under control at being ignored, dismissed, like that. When he notices your eyes on him, he snarls, “What are you looking at, filthy half-breed?” Boiling with anger, he can’t even think of a more creative way to insult you.

With the adrenaline still coursing through your body, and everyone’s hunger for a proper fight, maybe you should continue right where you left off and blast Malfoy a new second hole between his legs.

Javi, sensing you’re a walking landmine ready to maim Malfoy with the next wrong step, he swings a broad arm around your shoulder and leads you towards the exit. “See you on the field, Malfoy,” he beams at the Slytherin, if only to relish at his repulsed expression.

Javi has stopped caring about being called Mudblood or whatever other slur other students fixated on pure-blood supremacy call him. You’re proud of him for that, remembering his weeping, small form during the first year before he grew a thick skin—and big hands strong enough to break Malfoy’s neck.

“We’re going to put them into the hospital wing, right?” you say, turning your head up to Javi and smiling at him as you make your way through the narrow hallway towards (place away from Clock Tower).

Javi grin up at the starlit sky. “Oh, for sure.”

~ ⋆｡°✩ ~

Callum drops into the warm, cushioned armchair, long legs stretched out in front of the fireplace. Most students from his house have retreated inside their bed chambers, leaving the common room empty safe for a few in a last desperate effort to finish their homework.

The sound of quills scratching against parchment and the quiet crackling of the fire turn Call’s eyes heavy as lead. His head keeps lolling forward as though he doesn’t have the strength to keep it up anymore. The sparks flickering inside the fireplace remind him of the battle, of vicious Confringos and the last one, an Expulso that surely would have blasted him to bits. He still smells the char from the blown up furniture, the smoke and fire.

With your moods as changeable as sparks, he had expected a challenging fight. He did not expect to blow up the Clock Tower. Or that his wand would conjure a magic stranger than the ancient magic that would bind him to a person so clearly despising the mere idea of a secret that begs to be unveiled and solved.

He’s had six years growing used to it, and still it is the strangest feeling when magic starts to work on one. And this one, unlike the ancient magic that feels like a clear spring welling up after a long cold winter, feels like a hook in his stomach. Pulling him towards you, the need to touch and hold. To rip your ribcage open and fall into you.

Rubbing the spot on his chest above his heart, Call thinks back on your expression when your wands connected, on your harsh words after you finished the story of the hawthorn and blackthorn brothers.

Growing up in a place where surviving every day relied on growing acutely attuned to the moods of other people, Call knows what he saw in your defiant eyes: fear. Of him? Of the truth?

If anyone had told Call six years ago that he would not only be the only one to see and wield ancient magic, but also own a century old wand with such a special story, he’d laughed in their face.

The St. Jude Orphanage does not produce special children. Those leaving the institute are never meant for great things. Usually thrown out at the age of eighteen with little to no education, they become society’s scapegoats. Newsboys, shoe polishers, the work house. Thieves, drug addicts, prostitutes, criminals.

Call knows he would have met the same fate were it not for Professor Fig who had saved him from a life of diseases and unspeakable atrocities. Even today, Call still remembers every orphan from his home that died to fever, who ran away trying their luck out on the street only to be found swimming face-down along the Thames—if they were found at all. Who were beat to death by their caretakers for disobedience.

Without Professor Fig appearing at the orphanage’s door one day, Call would have followed that same fate. Instead, he was allowed to step into a life full of wonder and magic, of everything he once thought impossible suddenly within reach. Six years later, and Call still has not eaten his fill of the Wizarding world, waking up every morning feeling even hungrier for all the marvel waiting for him.

“Knut for your thoughts?” comes a drawling voice from his left. Callum, his eyes half closed from exhaustion, barely moves to acknowledge Sebastian Sallow’s presence, which in turn is rewarded by a slap to his legs to pull them back and make room for Sebastian on the rug in front of the fireplace. “You’ve been awfully quiet since the duel.” Sebastian makes himself comfortable on the rug right in front of the fire. Call can’t imagine it’s that comfortable. The stones of the Slytherin dungeons seem impenetrably cold, as if housing centuries worth of its inhabitants’ seclusion—a den of snakes shedding their skin for the new day to come.

“Just a lot on my mind.” Call stretches his limbs like a cat, sinking further into the cushions. If he doesn’t move to his bed soon, he might as well just fall asleep right here. “We’re still missing a Crossed Wands Champion.”

Sebastian hums thoughtfully. He’s sitting cross-legged before the fire, having taken off his robe sometime along the evening. Call watches the flame’s light dance over his face, drawing soft shadows over Sebastian’s handsome features. “I think you had a good chance. I should teach you Confringo some time so you can start dealing some serious damage.” He braces his elbow on one knee and puts his chin into his palm. “A shame the Hufflepuff turned tail and ran.”

Call gives a non-committal hum. He doesn’t really think you’ve run away; he thinks you’ve saved up the actual fight for a later time judging by the way you wear your strange, rough beauty like war paint.

“So,” Sebastian continues, “what did you two talk about?” He makes it sound so casual, just a polite question among friends, but Call has already figured out that nothing about Sebastian Sallow is casual. Just like when he smiles, it seems that it hides something beneath it that belies his composure.

Sebastian Sallow is . . . intriguing, to say the least. When they duelled on Call’s first day, it wasn’t as though he had flawlessly given Sebastian his Galleons for the run—even though the whole of Hogwarts begs to differ. But there was an immediate connection, an easy back and forth that felt almost familiar. When Sebastian managed to hit Call with Levioso, and instead of unleashing a flurry of spells, he had said, “What are you doing up there?” in a playful voice tinged with mirth as if they were both in on a joke and he’d found himself up there rather due to unfortunate circumstances than at the hands of Sebastian.

Travelling with Professor Fig has always been a great joy for Call, but now with Sebastian, he’s for the first time surrounded by a boy his own age. A charming, handsome boy with a tongue richer than honey and gilded words easily potting Call to follow him into any mischief.

He wonders how many secrets he’ll have to keep by the end of this year, his own and others. To Sebastian, he only says, “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Sebastian considers him for a long moment, then throws his head back and laughs out loud, a rich and alluring sound in the dark that has Call leaning forward as though he could put it in a bottle. He has a hard time looking away from Sebastian’s neck, from the chords of his muscles tensing as he leans back and props himself up on his arms.

“Wasn’t feeling well?” Sebastian chortles. “I’ve seen that blasted girl hang onto her broom in a game after getting her nose broken by an opposing player’s foot. All just to win the game. Trust me, she doesn’t just quit because she feels unwell.”

Splaying across the couch, fingers intertwining, Callum asks with a smile, “Do my ears deceive me? Is that admiration I hear?”

Sebastian scoffs. “It was our team that lost the game. Someone ought to teach her when it’s best to quit.”

Callum seriously doubts quitting exists in your vocabulary. Judging from the way you fight, you’re a hurricane, and no natural force simply stops without causing havoc and fatalities in its wake, nor does it yield to man’s pleas.

“That means,” Sebastian continues leisurely, flicking his gaze at the flowering embers in the fireplace, “either she lied to you.” His eyes flicker towards Call, his gaze sharpens like a hound on the scent, sending Call’s heart into his throat. “Or you are lying to me.”

Call lowers his eyes to Sebastian’s, and they trade a look that feels like a dare. He realises he enjoys the challenge hidden behind those words; this little game of cat and mouse, except they both think they are the cat. Sebastian is sharp as a whip—but Call has lived the first decade of his life in a house divided where walls are thin and dealing with secrets becomes a delicate business of life and death.

One would think because he grew up with nothing, Callum would want everything. But he doesn’t. He’s always been fine with settling for less. Just this one time though, he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

He wonders if it’s the magic or something sitting far beneath his ribcage, fragile like a bird’s wings and just as easily destructible, but he knows two souls don’t find each other by simple accident.

a/n: that was a lot of exposition, so with the next chapter we'll finally tackle the characters and their dynamics and i can't wait

[mimicjapan]

[Breaking News] Fuji TV “As a result of an internal investigation into Hana Kimura, what Hana Kimura said was a lie.”

1: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:04:23.58 ID:CAP_USER9.net

On the 31st, a female professional wrestler Hana Kimura who appeared in the romantic reality program "TERRACE HOUSE TOKYO 2019-2020" broadcast on Netflix and Fuji TV died after being hurt by viewers on the 31st, The station announced the results of the verification report on the program on its official website.

According to the report, the person in charge selects members who cross the relevant departments within the company. In the verification, we interviewed the people concerned, mainly about the process related to the production, distribution, and broadcasting of the 38th episode that Kimura appeared and suffered slanderous sluggishness against the behavior of male co-stars. , Said that the related records and materials were confirmed. Interviews were conducted with a total of 27 people including production staff, technical staff, performers, and Kimura-san's offices involved in the production site.

　As a result, there was no confirmation of the "improvement" such as the excessive production reported in some cases. "In each case, except for matters that the production side should judge, it was based on the performers' intentions, and we did not confirm any instructions or coercions against the performers' intentions."

Regarding the recognition and response to the flaming up of SNS, he explained to all the performers how to use SNS and gave advice. After that, "multiple production staff members followed and confirmed the SNS (Twitter, Instagram) of all performers," he explained. However, with regard to DM (Direct Mail) that only the person himself can view, "the production side could not know the content unless there was a consultation from the performers."

　Until a few days before Kimura died on May 23, the staff was in contact with Kimura and "mind care". However, in this regard, think that there was a point that the production side did not reach as a result, regarding recognition of Hana Kimura's care and health condition.

Kyoko Kimura (43), a mother of Kimura who is not convinced by the station's response, has submitted documents to the BPO (Broadcasting Ethics and Program Improvement Organization) for petition. Regarding the matter, "the bereaved family has filed a complaint with the Broadcasting Human Rights Committee, and we intend to respond sincerely in the future."

*Excerpts from the links below. Continuing with the source.

https://headlines.yahoo.co.jp/hl?a=20200731-00010044-chuspo-ent

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8: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:06:27 ID:pp3WYhOe0.net.

Don't you want to take responsibility so much?

>>8 Isn't it a violation of the Broadcast Law? In other words, stop.

9: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19: 06: 27 ID: UJMXw2r50.net.

This is terrible.

>>9 Run away with haste if it is not convenient. Chuitei is a surprising TV station.

13: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:07:08 ID:6SA1N5Wf0.net.

Really serious.

15: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19: 07:30 ID: tYekKkJd0.net.

You guys were slanderous about Kimura Hana, so desperate for the transfer of responsibility wwwwwwww.

>>15 The Yui from Karuizawa was really bad. The slander of a flower is like a sparkler.

16: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:07:33 ID:oI72dC930.net.

Yarase is also a verification.

>>16 There is nothing that can be believed anymore.

>>16 BPOs, third-party committees, and the like are basically relatives, not third parties.

20: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:07:54 ID:9l8YyX190.net.

have a bad life.

21: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:01 ID:t3JGlBIL0.net.

It's the same as there was no bullying.

22: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:01 ID:B1fQGget0.net.

The darkness that can start the curtain with this is dark.

>>22 h.

23: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:07 ID:IK6uSP1G0.net.

There's a trial (laughs).

 .

25: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:09 ID:caCUE2/e0.net.

An entertainer that no one complains about Fuji TV.

28: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:34 ID:vtnSWMWz0.net.

? ? "'ll ask you that it's past, so don't call me Yarase."

29: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:35 ID:KLBOnKfK0.net.

There is no mention of the dead.

30: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:08:42 ID:o0C5757c0.net.

If you die, it's a loss, the words of living people have more weight.

37: 2020/07/31 (Fri) 19:10:06.21 ID:THJtboLZ0.net.

In other words, Fuji TV recognized that Kimura Hana knocked off the man's hat, not her production, but her intention..

>>37 Do people not get angry when they are angry because they are directing against slander?.

40: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:10:34 ID:COEZSIin0.net.

The entertainers who criticized the net would not be just hypocrites without criticizing Fuji TV.

>>40 After all, an entertainer is a race like that w Just a Chihuahua.

>>40 Strong against weak and weak against strong.

54: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:11:41.45 ID:QTY+hGmq0.net.

Ah, feel a lot of distrust.

64: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:12:53.02 ID:CL9EQg1/0.net.

In self-verification, we come to this conclusion.

>>64 Do you think the thief says he stole?.

67: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19: 12: 57.58 ID: IlX55kEy0.net.

There is no point in setting up a third-party committee, as it stubbornly refuses to do so.

75: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:13:18.00 ID:OGq/q2RP0.net.

Isn't there a conclusion?.

82: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:14:21.04 ID:npmy0Y/l0.net.

No self-cleaning action!.

83: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:14:25.14 ID:CqV69uOO0.net.

It's not verification, it's lining up.

89: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:15:08.43 ID:VCzR2GqW0.net.

want to hear the opinion of the stupid woman who was watching this.

4: Friday, July 31, 2020 19:05:46 ID:4LJepCRx0.net.

can't believe it unless a third party verifies it.

Are you stupid?

266: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:40:44 ID:JFM62ZCk0.net.

>>4

Maybe the same for third parties, right?

Only reports that will benefit the beneficiary.

 .

>>266 Do you understand the meaning of a third party?

276: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:42:02.15 ID: KlL7fLna0.net.

>>266

thought it would be better to have NITTV do it.

The TV station was the same hole for programming.

>>276 It's kind of like a side-by-side connection between TV stations..

5: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:06:00 ID:NOzWfrs70.net.

My mother died, but

Do you want to lie and sneak up on the show?.

19: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:07:48 ID:nahPObR20.net.

Did he interact with his mother because he was forced to do it?

What's the verification, isn't it stupid?

55: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:11:43.99 ID:t3JGlBIL0.net.

>>19

Don't talk to the dead.

227: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:34:04.23 ID:vHz6UHtX0.net.

>>19

No such testimony appeared in this survey.

Therefore, could not confirm the harassment.

35: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:09:59.69 ID:FgtPmv/K0.net.

think you want to make a new series sooner.

That's why can't say that there was an instruction on the program.

36: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:10:00.46 ID:w7jjhD0J0.net.

Why don't you let a third party investigate?

Even if you play with your own family, you will tell the lie and the truth will be decided in the darkness.

61: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:12:47.66 ID:g76DtWUR0.net.

Isn't the Lisca image temporarily released regardless of DM?

Normally, when you get a grip on a squirrel, you'll go crazy.

62: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:12:49.26 ID:MWGkIRiz0.net.

This is terrible.

investigated it in family and found no problems.

Are you done?

At least one.

A man of Hari himself, who wore the laundry, accused him.

Should it be ignored?

69: 2020/07/31 (Fri) 19:13:02.74 ID:mk5BvOAS0.net.

Yarase and compulsion are different.

You're changing the story.

Yarase says that it was accidentally shown that it was actually a decision,

It's not a matter of whether it's compulsory or voluntary..

74: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:13:12.92 ID:mAlrCV//0.net.

>>1

Look.

Fuji TV's opinion number.

Hitoshi Matsumoto did exactly what Widenashaw said!

The internet users are bad.

Fuji TV is not bad!.

77: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:13:28.62 ID:E6T+K/1V0.net.

Said the suspect had made an unclear statement.

Fuji TV should be discontinued.

81: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:14:18.14 ID:LTYgA8wd0.net.

It's the accumulation of all these things that keeps the viewer away from the TV.

The consciousness of the production side has not changed.

86: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:14:50.39 ID:N1XtjUZO0.net.

Fuji "Is it okay?"

Everyone "Yes!"

100: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19: 16: 22 ID: JoCE9tuE0.net.

If you die, you lose.

If you die, lose!

 .

112: 2020/07/31 (Fri) 19:18:10 ID:UCkY8O350.net.

That's why Anti-Fuji TV and Kyoko Kimura should just publish the full text of LINE.

That way, if Fuji Television reports the wrong thing, we can deny it.

Even if it is cut out like a montage photo without doing that.

Oh, can only think "Fuji TV is right".

>>112 It's a trump card that hasn't been put out yet.

124: 2020/07/31 (Fri) 19:19:52.18 ID:2FOMkBgX0.net.

>>112

Still, this kind of thing.

It's difficult to prove.

Judges are TV kids.

133: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:21:19.63 ID:LQ1b+J210.net.

>>1

wonder if there will be more leaks in family.

There are so many talents that can't be sold, so wonder if it's for Fuji.

146: 2020/07/31 (Fri) 19:22:57.16 ID:MWGkIRiz0.net.

>>133

The co-stars are like they were gathering and partying a few months ago.

137: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:21:38.85 ID:MWGkIRiz0.net.

Also, this news will not be taken up in the wide show, and the stations and entertainers will go through in a united unity.

It's really rotten.

180: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:27:55 ID:ScXC6rd80.net.

The level at which you can meet and answer with a lawyer. When you really say poorly, you go to jail.

You can tell any lies. Nobody likes jail.

217: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:32:42 ID:7JOpzyEA0.net.

going to end it with an in-house survey.

My friend is dead and going to an absolute trial.

At that time, the testimony comes out, so know which one is lying.

243: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:36:58.26 ID:YVRzRlf/0.net.

>>217

think a parent.

The documents on the Fuji TV side are more reliable.

Or, if you're watching the Terrace House, you know, the program has always treated flowers as the leading role.

Even with strange behavior, defended it with all might.

That's a program.

>>243 Fuji's employee ID card.

>>243 Don't it smell like a great employee?

>>243 This is an employee.

222: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:33:17.63ID:63AdoQzm0.net.

think the man was under various pressure.

Stop the office and get rid of lice.

You confessed you had an instruction.

256: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:39:31.15 ID: cWrNPyCD0.net.

>>1

don't think there's any duress.

However, when said "Isn't it good to do this?"

People who want to become more famous can do just that.

don't know if you want to force that area.

Whether or not the orders and instructions were clear is the issue here.

>>256 Become a Yakuza movie man! Together with

362: 2020/07/31 (Friday) 19:56:25.58 ID:2STkiN450.net.

It's a station that smothered the old-fashioned grilled old people.

Most ethical violations that remain in the history of broadcasting are related to Fuji.

>>362 knew it for the first time. Did you do such cruel things?

>>362 The old man's firewalk was seriously terrible. It exceeded the level of abuse.

>>362 This terrible case.

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[amrozia]

Intro

Dataset

National Epidemiological Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions (NESARC)

CSV file

File description

Variables

Cluster:

AGE -> AGE: age in years.

S1Q24LB -> WEIGHT: weight in pounds.

S1Q24FT,S1Q24IN-> HEIGHT: height in inches.

SEX -> MALE: 1 if the subject is a male.

NUMPERS -> HOUSE_PEOPLE: number of persons in household.

ETOTLCA2 -> ALCOHOL: average daily volume of ethanol consumed in past year, from all types of alcoholic beverages combined in ounzes.

S1Q4A -> MARRIAGE: age at first marriage (years).

S1Q8D -> WORK: age when first worked full time, 30+ hours a week (years).

S1Q12A -> INCOME: total household income in last 12 months (dolars).

Statistical test:

ETHRACE2A -> RACE: race/ethnical group of the subject.

In [19]:

%pylab inline import numpy as np import pandas as pd                                             from scipy.spatial.distance import euclidean from scipy.stats import chi2_contingency from sklearn.cluster import KMeans from sklearn.decomposition import PCA import statsmodels.formula.api as smf import statsmodels.stats.multicomp as multi #Visualization import matplotlib.pylab as plt import seaborn as sns pylab.rcParams['figure.figsize'] = (15, 8)

Populating the interactive namespace from numpy and matplotlib

WARNING: pylab import has clobbered these variables: ['plt'] `%matplotlib` prevents importing * from pylab and numpy

Data

In [2]:

# Load data data = pd.read_csv('../datasets/NESARC/nesarc_pds.csv', usecols=[    'ETHRACE2A',    'AGE','S1Q24LB','S1Q24FT','S1Q24IN','SEX','NUMPERS','ETOTLCA2','S1Q4A','S1Q8D','S1Q12A' ])

In [20]:

# Custom dataframe df = pd.DataFrame() # Hypothesis to test df['RACE'] = data['ETHRACE2A'].replace(' ',np.NaN).astype(float) races = {1:'white',2:'black',3:'indian(US)',4:'asian',5:'latino'} # Cluster variables df['AGE'] = data['AGE'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace('98',np.NaN).astype(float) df['WEIGHT'] = data['S1Q24LB'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace('999',np.NaN).astype(float) df['HEIGHT'] = (    (data['S1Q24FT'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace(99, numpy.nan)*12) +    data['S1Q24IN'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace(99, numpy.nan) ).astype(float) df['MALE'] = data['SEX'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace('2','0').astype(float) df['HOUSE_PEOPLE'] = data['NUMPERS'].replace(' ',np.NaN).astype(float) df['ALCOHOL'] = data['ETOTLCA2'].replace(' ',np.NaN).astype(float) df['MARRIAGE'] = data['S1Q4A'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace('99',np.NaN).astype(float) df['WORK'] = data['S1Q8D'].replace(' ',np.NaN).replace('99',np.NaN).replace('0',np.NaN).astype(float) df['INCOME'] = data['S1Q12A'].replace(' ',np.NaN).astype(float) df = df.dropna()

In [4]:

TARGET = 'RACE' PREDICTORS = list(df.columns) PREDICTORS.remove(TARGET) df_predictors = pd.DataFrame()

Standardize predictors

0 Mean

1 Standadrd deviation

In [5]:

for predictor in PREDICTORS:    pred_data = df[predictor]    df_predictors[predictor] = (df[predictor] - df[predictor].mean()) / df[predictor].std() df_predictors.describe()

Out[5]:AGEWEIGHTHEIGHTMALEHOUSE_PEOPLEALCOHOLMARRIAGEWORKINCOME

count1.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+041.570200e+04

mean2.117781e-16-2.823708e-16-8.398722e-162.104206e-179.412361e-173.439132e-17-2.823708e-16-3.330528e-16-7.240278e-18

std1.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+001.000000e+00

min-2.015098e+00-2.388372e+00-4.858450e+00-1.008153e+00-1.216617e+00-4.053539e-01-1.873343e+00-3.117579e+00-8.835691e-01

25%-7.548403e-01-7.321952e-01-8.146992e-01-1.008153e+00-5.127884e-01-3.916779e-01-6.963413e-01-4.496405e-01-4.718053e-01

50%-8.764499e-02-1.142190e-01-5.649585e-029.918495e-01-5.127884e-01-3.192029e-01-1.078406e-01-2.273123e-01-1.733846e-01

75%6.536832e-015.779145e-017.017075e-019.918495e-018.948696e-01-1.173722e-024.806602e-014.396724e-011.818782e-01

max3.618996e+006.807115e+004.239990e+009.918495e-017.229331e+002.389725e+017.738836e+001.155608e+014.174762e+01

Model

K factor selection

In order to choose the optimum value for K, I'm calculating the average distance from a point to its asigned cluster versus for every K from 1 to 10.

In [6]:

K_MAX = 10

In [7]:

#Don't touch! K_MAX += 1 meandist=[] for k in range(1,K_MAX):    model=KMeans(n_clusters=k)    clusassign=model.fit_predict(df_predictors)        meandist.append(np.mean([        euclidean(df_predictors.values[i], model.cluster_centers_[cluster])        for i,cluster in enumerate(clusassign)    ]))

In [8]:

plt.plot(range(1,K_MAX), meandist) plt.xlabel('Number of clusters') plt.ylabel('Average distance') plt.title('Selecting k with the Elbow Method')

Out[8]:

<matplotlib.text.Text at 0x7f4f5dccb810>

In the plot, it is possible to see than adding a new cluster when we have 5 clusters do not decrease much the average distance.

In [9]:

increments = [0]+[ meandist[x]-meandist[x-1] for x in range(1,K_MAX-1)] plt.plot(range(1,K_MAX), increments) plt.xlabel('Number of clusters') plt.ylabel('Increment in avg distance') plt.title('Increments in avg distance when adding a new cluster')

Out[9]:

<matplotlib.text.Text at 0x7f4f5dbe4c50>

This plot represents the increment (or decrement) of the average intra-cluster distance when adding a new cluster. It is possible to see the increment stabilizes from cluster 5 with a peak on K=7 and then decreases logarithmically. So, I say the optimal number of clusters is 5.

In [10]:

K=5

5-cluster representation with PCAIn [11]:

#Color palette colors = sns.color_palette("hls", K) # Interpret 5 cluster solution model5=KMeans(n_clusters=K) model5.fit_predict(df_predictors) # plot clusters pca_2 = PCA(2) plot_columns = pca_2.fit_transform(df_predictors) plt.scatter(x=plot_columns[:,0], y=plot_columns[:,1], c=[colors[c]for c in model5.labels_]) plt.xlabel('Canonical variable 1') plt.ylabel('Canonical variable 2') plt.title('Scatterplot of Canonical Variables for {0} Clusters'.format(K)) plt.show()

In [12]:

print('PCA\n -Number of components: {0}\n -Variance explained: {1}'.format(pca_2.n_components_,pca_2.explained_variance_ratio_.sum()))

PCA -Number of components: 2 -Variance explained: 0.410488357793

The 2-axis plot, coloured with 5 colors (same as the number of clusters), shows 4 clearly distinguishable clusters. This PCA model only captures a 41% of the variance, so I cannot say if the fifth cluster is not easily seen due to the visualization or its contribution to the K-means model.

Is the cluster assignment statistically related to the race?

To test this hypothesis, I will run a Chi-Square test of independence.

In [13]:

df_chi = pd.DataFrame() df_chi[TARGET] = df[TARGET] df_chi['CLUSTER'] = model5.labels_

In [14]:

#Contingency table, observations ct1 = pd.crosstab(df_chi['CLUSTER'],df_chi['RACE']) print ct1

RACE        1    2   3    4    5 CLUSTER                         0        2276  425  50   60  344 1         217   67  11    6   49 2        2552  480  65   52  484 3        2855  567  73  117  961 4        2353  463  56  136  983

In [15]:

#Percentages colsum = ct1.sum(axis=0) colpct = ct1/colsum print (colpct)

RACE            1         2         3         4         5 CLUSTER                                                   0        0.221984  0.212288  0.196078  0.161725  0.121943 1        0.021165  0.033467  0.043137  0.016173  0.017370 2        0.248903  0.239760  0.254902  0.140162  0.171570 3        0.278455  0.283217  0.286275  0.315364  0.340659 4        0.229494  0.231269  0.219608  0.366577  0.348458

In [16]:

# chi-square test cs1 = chi2_contingency(ct1) print("X² Value = {0}".format(cs1[0])) print("p-value = {0}".format(cs1[1]))

X² Value = 384.230240286 p-value = 7.31131755895e-72

The χ2χ2 test of indepence gives a p-value lesser than 0.05, so the race and the clusster assignation are significantly associated.

Post hoc test - Bonferroni Adjustment

Number of categories: 5

Number of comparisons: (52)=10(52)=10

Adjusted p-value: p−valuenumberofcomparisons=0.0510=0.005p−valuenumberofcomparisons=0.0510=0.005

In [17]:

from itertools import combinations comparison_pairs = list(combinations(races.keys(),2)) ap_val = 0.05/len(comparison_pairs) #Adjusted p-value for (v1,v2) in comparison_pairs:    print("PAIR: {0}-{1}".format(races[v1],races[v2]))    df2 = df_chi[(df_chi['RACE']==v1) | (df_chi['RACE']==v2)]    ct2 = pd.crosstab(df2['CLUSTER'],df2['RACE'])    cs2 = chi2_contingency(ct2)    print("\t p-value: {0}".format(cs2[1]))    print("\t Reject: {0}".format(cs2[1]<ap_val))

PAIR: white-black  p-value: 0.0147537262383  Reject: False PAIR: white-indian(US)  p-value: 0.165591902325  Reject: False PAIR: white-asian  p-value: 5.07966700917e-11  Reject: True PAIR: white-latino  p-value: 3.09820579923e-68  Reject: True PAIR: black-indian(US)  p-value: 0.869722513026  Reject: False PAIR: black-asian  p-value: 4.74267012052e-09  Reject: True PAIR: black-latino  p-value: 9.03882670447e-35  Reject: True PAIR: indian(US)-asian  p-value: 2.21147789828e-05  Reject: True PAIR: indian(US)-latino  p-value: 3.18119315297e-08  Reject: True PAIR: asian-latino  p-value: 0.136856284896  Reject: False

After the Bonferroni adjustment, these are the two groups statistically different in terms of the 5-groups clustering.

white-black-indian

asian-latino

These two superclusters could indicate wether the subject have roots in the country (first group) or they is an inmigrant or a first/secod generation citizen. It will be nice to know wich clusters are associated with the race superclusters

The race seems to be correlated with the output of the clustering process. It is not possible to say the race of a subject knowing their 9 features (AGE, WEIGHT, HEIGHT, MALE, HOUSE_PEOPLE, ALCOHOL, MARRIAGE, WORK and INCOME) but it is possible to assign them to a group.

[m-00kie]

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[bloojayoolie]

Animals, Apparently, and Cats: At Brooklyn ACC Waiting for You Pretty, petite, fun, friendly, playful, up to date on 18726-6 years o 45 lbs vaccines to go home Todayll TO BE KILLED - 1/30/2018 BIG GIRL IS A PETITE AND PRETTY LITTLE THING THAT MUST BE NAMED FOR HER BIG PERSONALITY AND ZEST FOR LIFE. Big Girl is 6 year old girl who may have lost her home and family and all she loves but she hasn't lost the will to look on the bright side. She's bright, fun, friendly and happy as well as spayed. She's currently at the Brooklyn shelter hoping for a second chance with a new family who will love her unconditionally and keep her safe. A volunteer writes: Big Girl isn’t all that big and she isn’t all that brave either, but she is without a doubt one of the most tooth-achingly sweet and endearing girls ever! She previously lived with her owner and a 4 year old child (with whom she was respectful and tolerant and liked to watch TV with!) and it seems her world was rather small. We’re told she is fully housebroken (she seems it), is relaxed, affectionate and quiet, and that she’s very timid around new people and in new places. Not surprisingly, on our first few outings Big Girl did lots of army crawling (especially when we had to pass her loud neighbors or encountered a scary garbage truck!) and spent a lot of time submissively showing me her belly. Though she’s still very sensitive to her environment, Big Girl absolutely warms up to a familiar face and is IMPOSSIBLE not to fall head over heels for. She’s very receptive to treats (she seems to know some commands too!), likes to play fetch, now spends more time on my lap than on her back, and while she might not be ready to make prolonged eye contact with them yet, she stays wiggly when we encounter new admirers. I think she’ll make the most loyal friend…please come see her at Brooklyn ACC and make sweet, sweet Big Girl YOUR Girl. BIG GIRL@BROOKLYN ACC Big Girl - ID# 18726 Sex: Female Age: 6 years old Length: Short Is Vaccinated: Yes Coat Type: Smooth Primary Color: Tan Secondary Color: White Weight: 45.4 lbs Intake Date: 01-19-2018 Spayed / Neutered Yes My health has been checked My vaccinations are up to date My worming is up to date I have been microchipped Please take note of the Animal ID before contacting shelter Behavior Assessment Upon intake Big girl was very shy and timid. When approached by a staff member she lowered her head and body, however she did roll over to allow rubbing. She allowed all handling. Scanned negative. Date of Intake: 1/19/2018 Basic Information:: Big girl’18726 is a 6 year old ,female that was surrendered due to no time. Big girl has never suffered any health issues or injures. Big girl has never visit the vet. Previously lived with:: 2 adults, 1 child( age 4) How is this dog around strangers?: Around strangers Big girl is timid and nervous. The previous owner stated that she rarely had guest over but when she did big girl would initially stay to her self. If an unknown person approached her she will start to shake nervously and lower her head. she allows them to rub her however her body is tense.The previous owner stated once you have visited the home a couple time ,Big girl becomes more relaxed. How is this dog around children?: Big girl has lived in the home with a 4 year old child. Big girl was respectful and tolerant towards the child. The previous owner attempted to keep the child away from big girl just as a safety measure. When Big girl was around the child, she liked to lay on the child legs while they watch TV. Big girl has never displayed a behavior concern towards the child. How is this dog around other dogs?: No known experience with any dogs. How is this dog around cats?: No known experience with any cats. Resource guarding:: Big girl ins’t bothered by the following:having her food bowl touched or taken away, having items or treats removed from her mouth, being pushed off of furniture,being brushed or taking a bath. Big girl is fully house trained with no record of accidents. Bite history:: Big girl hasn’t bitten anyone or animal within the past 10 days. No known bite history. Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: low-medium Other Notes:: Big girl can be a bit timid if she’s in a unfamiliar environment. she gets really shy and hides. Sometimes she shakes nervously. For a New Family to Know: Big girl is described as quiet , relaxed and affectionate. Big girl usually stays to herself while inside the home.Big girl isn’t reactive towards toys.She was feed puppy chow dry foods. At times the previous owner gave her chicken and rice as a treat. Big girl is walked once a day. she uses a collar and leash and slightly pulls while being walked. Date of intake:: 1/19/2018 Spay/Neuter status:: No Means of surrender (length of time in previous home):: Owner surrender Previously lived with:: 2 adults, 1 child (age 4) Behavior toward strangers:: Timid, tense Behavior toward children:: Respectful, tolerant Behavior toward dogs:: Unknown Behavior toward cats:: Unknown Resource guarding:: None reported Bite history:: None reported Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: Quiet, relaxed, and affectionate with a low-medium energy level. Date of assessment:: 1/23/2018 Look:: 2. Dog’s eyes are averted, body posture is stiff and fearful, tail is low and not moving. Dog allows head to be held loosely in Assessor’s cupped hands. Sensitivity:: 1. Dog stands still and accepts the touch, eyes are averted, and tail is in neutral position with a relaxed body posture. Dog’s mouth is likely closed for at least a portion of the assessment item. Tag:: 1. Dog follows at the end of the leash, body low and a bit fearful. Paw squeeze 1:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Paw squeeze 2:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Toy:: 1. No interest. Summary:: Big girl was a bit nervous during the handling assessment. She was tolerant, but kept her body low. Summary (1):: According to Big Girl’s previous owner there is no known experience with any dogs. 1/20: When off leash at the Care Center, Big Girl is a bit nervous and is slow to approach the novel male dog. She briefly greets him before keeping to herself and wandering the pens. 1/23: Big Girl continues to be nervous around a novel female dog. She stands near the exit most of her session, and explores the pens towards the end of the session. Date of intake:: 1/19/2018 Summary:: Shy, timid though allowed handling Date of initial:: 1/19/2018 Summary:: Tense, allowed all handling ENERGY LEVEL:: Her previous owner describes Big girl as a timid, respectful, dog. Big girl displayed low energy and movement throughout assessment, and will need daily mental and physical activity to keep her engaged and exercised. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: EXPERIENCE (suitable for an adopter with some previous dog experience, especially with the behaviors outlined below) Behavior Asilomar: TM – Treatable-Manageable Potential challenges: : Fearful Potential challenges comments:: Fearful: The behavior department recommends allowing Big girlto approach her potential new adopters at her own pace. Force-free, reward based training is advised when introducing/exposing Big girl new and unfamiliar situations. My medical notes are… Weight: 45.4 lbs Vet Notes Post Surgery Note 20/01/2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: ~5-6yrs Microchip noted on Intake? No History : Owner surrender Subjective: BARH Observed Behavior – Nervous, tense but allowed all handling, soft muzzle placed for exam Evidence of Cruelty seen – no Evidence of Trauma seen – no Objective P = WNL R = WNL BCS 5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal discharge noted Oral Exam: Moderate dental tartar/staining, pink mm PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: Female MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: mentation appropriate – no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: Apparently healthy Plan: Continue to monitor while at BACC Prognosis: Excellent SURGERY: OK for surgery 23/01/2018 Pre-op exam S/O: BAR. Nervous in run EENT: Eyes clear, no ocular or nasal discharge HL: No coughing or sneezing, normal RR/RE INTEG: Full coat MS: Ambulatory x 4 UG: Female A: Apparently healthy P: Based on chart review and no signs of CIRDC, OK for surgery tomorrow 29/01/2018 New CIRDC noted on rounds Subjective: QAR. No csvd but reluctant to get up and has serous nasal d/c for 2 days. Objective EENT: serous nasal d/c bilaterally, no ocular d/c ou L: Eupneic, normal RR/RE MSI: Ambulatory x 4, good haircoat CNS: mentation appropriate – no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: CIRDC Plan: Start doxycycline 10mg/kg PO SID x14d until 2/12 Recheck at day 7 Move to iso Prognosis: Fair to good * TO FOSTER OR ADOPT * If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process *within 48 hours of reserve*, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs. It should read, "reserve in progress". That is YOUR reserve. Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org At-Risk Animals Thank you for your interest in adopting from Animal Care Centers of NYC. Our At Risk List is posted each day (except Saturday) at 6:00PM and remains viewable until 12:00PM noon the following day. newhope.shelterbuddy.com HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications.

[freedomopinion-blog1]

Date: 2017-08-05 07:30:01

From the distrubing mating rituals of the male honey bee to the killer insinct of the Shrike bird. Here are five of some of the strangest animal behavious in the world..... ____________________________________________________________________ The Top5s Magazine is now available! https://www.top5s.co.uk/magazine Don't forget to follow TOP5s on Social Media to keep up with upcoming videos, articles and new information! ►► https://www.instagram.com/thetop5sofficial/?hl=en ►► https://twitter.com/TheTop5s ►►https://www.facebook.com/TheOfficialTop5s/ Special Thank you to CO.AG for the music as usual! If you are looking for music for any video production, games, movies etc. He is the man to speak to so check out his channel or send him a personal message! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcavSftXHgxLBWwLDm_bNvA Thanks for watching! Top5s

[siberian-cats-cattery]

. • FRASER of Russkaya Zabava (ФРЕЙЗЕР Русская Забава) 🧡 ПРИДЕРЖИВАЕТСЯ (OPTION) Kот, окрас красный тигровый с белым (d 23 09) Male, color red mackerel with white (d 23 09) Условия продажи: как домашний любимец Terms of sale: as a pet ДАТА РОЖДЕНИЯ КОТЯТ: 29 ЯНВАРЯ 2019 Мама: GICH WCF, Голубой Топаз УДАЧА (f 2303) Папа: GICH WCF, RW SGCH TICA, Чародей ЕРМАК Наследие Сибири (n 24) DATE OF BIRTH: JANUARY 29, 2019 Mom: GICH WCF, Blue Topaz UDACHA (f 2303) Dad: GICH WCF, RW SGCH TICA, Charodey ERMAK of Nasledie Sibiri (n 24) Полная информация на сайте Full information on website http://www.russkayazabava.com/29-01-2019 Родословная Pedigree https://pawpeds.com/db/?a=p&ids=3:1331188;2:1353756&g=5&p=sib&o=ajgrep&hl=-1 (at Moscow, Russia) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvJJ1LBHvWh/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19i67v593m19j