#introductory chemistry
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
er-cryptid · 1 month ago
Text
Multiple Formal Charges [Ex. 2]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Patreon
4 notes · View notes
diltonsstrangescience · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from the “do it yourself experiments”, but I thought it’d probably be something like a baking soda volcano that everyone’s seen a million times. Dilton, I’m sorry I doubted you and the publishers of comic books from the 80s. This is actually legitimately really cool.
5 notes · View notes
sophiethewitch1 · 1 year ago
Text
why is it that whenever im not paying attention i go straight back to psychologically torturing www!reader
12 notes · View notes
robotwrangler · 1 year ago
Text
Just got given a run-down of basic stuff about atoms and my head is spinning. I was always told they were the smallest thing, and I didn’t really understand what protons, neutrons or electrons were, but now it’s like.. there are even smaller things called quarks, and atom bits n pieces are made of them.. except electrons which aren’t made of anything and are just themselves and nothing else.. I really missed out on some crazy stuff by dropping out of high school in year 10 to get an art diploma
4 notes · View notes
chemstudent-sherlock · 1 year ago
Text
Seems people write introductory posts, so maybe I should introduce myself as well. Hi, my name is Sherlock (god this sounds like a NA meeting....not that I've ever been to a NA meeting...anyway...) If you couldn't already tell by my blog name, but most of you are stupid so you probably didn't notice. I study chemistry in the UK and I hope to work as a forensic scientist in the future. I'm very passionate about science, especially biology and chemistry. I even perform some experiments in my dorm sometimes. I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't post for days on end. My passion is solving crimes, and I'm very good at it. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?
6 notes · View notes
juliamccartney · 1 year ago
Text
i'm taking a class on botany next semester hee hee <3
1 note · View note
love-in-my-twenties · 2 years ago
Text
Instead of writing who I am, I'd like to introduce myself as everyone I've ever wanted to be:
a writer, a librarian, a clarinetist, a chemist, a good student, a top student, a songwriter, a poet, a teacher, a psychiatrist, a psychologist - a therapist, an extrovert, a musician, a performer, and, above all, a "someone".
I did manage to be one of these things. Two, even. I'm a songwriter, therefore a musician as well. I did study chemistry for half a year. I probably will be studying psychology in few months - but I'm not sure, maybe I'll choose cognitive science instead. And maybe, just maybe, I like who I am.
And now, I'm a little lost. And I didn't know where to go, I didn't know who to go to, so I thought, hey, remember Tumblr?
Hi:)
4 notes · View notes
flamagenitus · 1 year ago
Text
"The mark of maturity is knowing you know nothing" well I have known that since I was 18 years old. Do I get a medal yet
0 notes
femmeroll · 3 months ago
Text
okay but nerd!abby helping her girl study for a test would be so so sweet!!!
Tumblr media
men & minors dni
abby x fem reader | sfw
abby is such a nerd. not in the comic book, video games, or science fiction way. in a more practical sense.
she loves science, especially biology. and her idea of a fun activity is solving an annoyingly long algebra equation.
so when need a science credit and end up with introductory biology, abby is more than happy to help.
it’s not that you’re dumb. far from it. but you’re more of an english/history girl. analyzing british literature is a lot more appealing to you than a chemistry formula.
“okay, cell structure. show me your notes, baby”
you pull out your notebook, cutely labeled ‘bio’ in pink gel pen. the first page has…some notes. the majority of the page is covered in smiley faces, hearts, and drawings of eyes. abby raises an eyebrow at you.
“it’s hard to focus!” you whine. “the professor talks way to fast.”
“you’d pick up more of the content if you weren’t busy drawing an eye, baby.”
you roll your eyes and mumble something about how it’s actually supposed to be her eye, and that it was some romantic gesture.
“thank you, sweet girl. but i think your notes are a little more important” she sighs. “how about this. if you can label nine out of the thirteen parts of the cell, we can drive off campus for dinner.”
your eyes sparkle. “really? no dinning hall food?”
“no dinning hall food. you’re my smart girl” she says. “you got this.”
405 notes · View notes
rangerbarbz · 7 months ago
Text
Study Sessions
“Study Sessions”
Author’s Note: Had some time to start another blurb! (After reading Book of Bill I’m thinking about writing about Ford possessed by Bill idk) I hope y’all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think lovelies <3 EDIT: OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT SEE ALL THE INBOX REPLIES I HAD I AM SO SORRRYYYY I HAVE SOME REQUEST IDEAS IN THERE I’D LOVE TO DO 
You had conquered every single class at Backupsmore with either an A or a B as your final grade. You wouldn’t say you were a genius by any means, but you took pride in your schoolwork and wished to graduate as soon as possible. This changed when you began taking physics. You had never been so stumped by a subject. The equations, the laws, and the Godforsaken labs were the bane of your existence. 
Your determined nature refused to let you fail, so you decided to ask your professor for help. He began doting on his star student Stanford Pines who had taken his class the previous semester and was excelling through the upper level classes. Your professor suggested reaching out to him because he had recently become a S.I. for the introductory physics and chemistry courses. He handed you a Post-It note with his name and the hours when he was going to be in the library. 
After your last class of the day, you strolled over to the library on campus, nervous for your first session. He was so smart and you were afraid that he would get frustrated with how little you understood this subject. You made your way to the S.I. lab on campus and tapped your knuckle on the wooden door that was open. There was no one at any of the tables, but there were scattered notebook paper scribbled on and a textbook open. 
“Hello?” you called, looking around for a sign of anyone. Suddenly, a head popped up from underneath the table. He had ruffled brown hair and black, square glasses. 
“Hello!” the man replied, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. I had dropped my pen before you walked in.” He then sat on the rolling chair and scooted it closer to the table. “I’m Stanford, but you can call me Ford. I assume you’re here for physics help?” 
You smiled. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ford. Yes, I am here for physics. My professor recommended you to me.” You placed your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair beside him. “I just want to go ahead and warn you, I’ve had trouble in this class. I hope I don’t frustrate you too much.” 
Ford chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re a smart girl. Do you have any homework that needs to be completed?” You felt your face become warm. Smart girl. You enjoyed him calling you that. There was nothing quite like academic praise to a scholar. 
“Uh, yes I do actually,” you answered, not letting your train of thought derail. You pulled your binder from the first pocket of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you two. “It’s ten problems, so if I miss more than three of them that means I have a D,” you continued as you removed the worksheet from the rings. “I am shooting for at least a C in the class overall.” 
He grinned at you like he was happy about doing physics. “Well, I believe you’re going to get no less than an A in that class.” You laughed at his confidence in you. 
“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it, Ford,” you replied, twirling your pencil between your fingers. You gazed into his eyes; the sunlight from the window brought out hints of gold in his dark brown irises. Wow, they were so pretty.
He then cocked his head to the side. “Pardon? Did you just say ‘pretty?’” he asked with a smile tugging at his lips. 
Your face immediately became hot. Oh my God you spoke out loud not meaning to. Okay how do you save this conversation. You laughed nervously. “Pretty excited to start learning that is! Ha! Let’s get started, please. I can’t wait!” you exclaimed, all in one breath. 
Ford nodded. “What a great attitude to have, Y/N!” He then picked up his pencil and began to explain the first problem to you. He was so good at going into detail about every little thing. He was patient with you as well which was good because he kept on distracting you. 
The more you focused on him, the more features you noticed. His glasses had scratches on the wire rims, he had a prominent, square jaw, and he had unkempt sideburns. He was so damn good looking it made you want to study thermodynamics forever if it meant you got to look at him. 
You had actually gone through the homework quicker than you thought you would, so Ford asked if you would want to practice some extra problems on the blackboard. Of course you agreed. You walked up to the board ready to write whatever he threw at you but feeling self-conscious about being the center of his attention like this. He was still sitting at the table reciting the equation back to you while you stood out in the open. You then pushed your insecurity to the side in order to show him you had actually learned something today. He carefully observed you as you wrote, watching the cogs in your brain turn. He also was watching the way your face contorted in concentration and the way your fingers tapped against the chalk tray. 
“Alright. I think I’m done, Ford.” You moved to the side so he could see your final answer. 
He smiled at you, putting his hands on his knees to get up. “Let’s see what ya got,” he responded, walking over to stand beside you. You didn’t realize when he was sitting how tall he was compared to you or how broad his chest was. He began to mumble under his breath, making sure there were no mistakes present. “Everything looks good Y/N!” He then turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours. 
“You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Look at what you accomplished in just this short amount of time! If you keep on coming to my sessions, I know you can get through this class without worry.” Ford paused and looked back at the board, hands held behind his back. “It would make me happy to see you succeed.” 
You beamed back at him. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him right now? 
You (obviously) continued going to Ford’s S.I. sessions because your grade improved with each one you went to. You had also spent some time outside of the library together  by doing some photography of the wildlife around campus while Ford doodled in his sketchbook. People usually clocked him as an introvert, but he was not like that with you. He had opened up quite a bit to you about his past and what he wanted to do in the future. 
Today, you had met Ford on a bench outside his dormitory after your physics class had let out to share some good news with him. “Ford!” you called out. He looked up to see you waving a paper marked with an A+ in red ink. “Guess who got the highest grade in the class on the test last week?” you squealed. 
“Yes!” Ford said triumphantly, standing up quickly to pump his fists in the air. His sketchbook fell to the ground with some of the loose papers coming out. “I’m so proud of you!” You put your hands on his strong shoulders and jumped up and down. 
“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m just tickled pink right now,” you responded happily, bending down to pick up his drawings before the wind caught them. Ford’s face suddenly fell.
“Oh here I’ll get that,” he started, kneeling down on the concrete beside you. He was trying to pick up the papers that fell out as fast as possible, but you were faster. 
Your eyes grew wide as you picked up a paper with drawings of a woman reading a textbook, in a tree taking a picture of a bird, and one where she was just laughing. They were all you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at them. They were so beautiful. 
“Y/N I’m so sorry. I- I can explain,” Ford stammered. “I- I have…liked you for a while now. You just are always on my mind, so I end up drawing you sometimes.”
“I like you too,” you cut him off. 
His face was flushed beyond belief. “I, well, uh-” 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” you stated. Ford’s eyebrows lifted as you closed the gap between you with a sweet kiss. He let out the tiniest sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering close. You held his face in your hands and separated your lips from his to see his reaction. He was still blushing with a goofy smile on his lipstick stained face. 
“That was nice. Should’ve done that sooner,” he joked. You giggled and began to kiss him rapidly on his cheeks and forehead. You had left red stains of your lips with each smooch you gave him. 
“Yeah, you should have, smart guy.” He rolled his eyes and held your chin between his thumb and index finger to pull you in for another kiss. You smiled against his lips.
“I can’t wait to tell Fiddleford about this,” Ford murmured. 
“ And I can’t wait to see Fiddleford’s reaction to my assault on your face,” you laughed.
558 notes · View notes
simp-ly-writes · 4 months ago
Text
Dressing Up for the Role
─────── · · The Professionals
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Spy!Reader
─ · · SUMMARY: You and Adler are husband and wife on paper yet you both need to appear the part. You take on the city for the elements to make your relationship appear authentic: rings, clothes, and chemistry? Well that couldn't be right... and who the hell is this "Bell" person Adler always flicks past... a continuation of this.
─ · · TAGS: no use of (y/n), non-canon compliant, flirting, use of pet names, teasing, fluff, only one bed trope at the end, Adler being a bit on an ass (but we love him for it).
─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,826
─ · · A/N: I had to stop myself so many times from writing, "and then they kiss" lmao. Let me know what y'all think. Thank you for the support on the introductory part!
─────── · ·
Two days left was all you had with your new "husband," to make yourselves seem like you had been married for years. You both had rented a camera to make sure you had pictures of your "honeymoon" ready if anyone searched your bags or took a look at your wallets.
You had decided on a picture of you both in the local Park underneath the multi-coloured tree's, the other an image of Adler smoking out on the balcony while casting you a wink. Adler had yet to show you the picture he placed in his wallet and teased you every time you asked saying it was the worst picture possible so that other's wouldn't get jealous- you did not know weather to be offended or thankful.
The day would be packed full of clothes shopping, speed get-to-know one another lunch dates where more than twenty question rounds were asked to ensure that any question directed towards each other or your relationship could be answered or deflected with ease.
─────── · ·
You were in the fitting room, trying on various outfits for your trip. Needing thicker clothes for colder climate than you were about to be operating in. Adler was in a chair outside your door, a large mirrored room to see every angle of the fabric draped against your body.
Leaning back against the leather that groaned more than he did. Adler rose his pointer finger, twirling it around and watched as the fabric of your dress spun with your shoes before falling back to the floor. You smiled watching as the glasses slipped down his nose. "You look very nice but we do need clothes for six months not six weeks and we are running out of daylight."
"Well its not like these dresses have super accessible zippers or anything! Takes me a solid ten minutes to just get out of the fucking things since you waved the associate away!" you argued with a pointed finger at his chest.
Adler stood before placing a hand on your hip, reaching up and around to slowly unzip the fabric from your body as to not catch any or your skin. "No harm in asking for help, you know that?"
"Not when the help gets all preachy, Adler," you retort, "but thank you." Holding the front of your dress up you run back to the fitting room, a smile dusting against your lips as your heart fluttered in your chest.
─────── · ·
Throughout the day, you had to consistently remember that the information you were getting out of your husband was not for just your ears and the guilt only built in your gut as Adlers answers slowly went from satirical to genuine as the day progressed.
You could sense the hidden truth underneath the smiles and cigarettes he would present to you behind closed smiles and doors. Telling you about the team he had back at home and the slip of the name, "Bell," that was never mentioned again.
Looking through the database while Adler was out buying another box of cigarettes and lunch for the day, you had yet to find anything for a member under the CIA with that codename or a mission of any kind.
This point lingered at the back of your head as he told you his days during the Vietnam war and you were most surprised over your third cup of coffee that day that he had a wife before you. In actuality, you forgot just how long you both had been working in the field for that it was silly of you to think of yourself as the only one... if only a fake one.
Smiling and nodding along, Adler raised a brow at your drop in reaction to a concealed one- you hated that he could instantly pick up on your tricks and perfected charisma you thought to have mastered over the years. "Have something you want to say?"
"Nothing, just... was this "Bell" person your wife?"
Adler laughed harder than you had ever seen before yet it felt distantly hollow as you shrunk back into your chair as he leaned forwards onto the table. "No, though we wouldn't have been far off if things worked... differently."
You both let the words sit in the tension-filled air, unsure of how to continue conversation you decided to end it all together and move on to the next activity. "Ready to get married, old man?"
"Thought we already were?"
"Not without a ring on your finger, we arn't"
─────── · ·
Wedding band shopping had taken a majority of the afternoon as Adler had to keep up a pleased facade as you hung off his arm, smiling widely and rubbing up and down his arm while speaking with the consultant.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, honey," Adler commented with an overly sweet tone yet after the few hours that you had known the man. Those sweet-toned words were heavy with sarcasm, his eyes appearing dead underneath his shades that he insisted upon wearing- even indoors.
"Well, honey," you add just as if not more sweetly back, "I want to make sure we have the most authentic and delicate piece on your finger to make everyone know we're together." Adler chuckles, smiling while glaring daggers at the side of your head as you laugh with the consultant who is practically leaning over the display case to converse with you.
A sudden hand falling from your arm down to your waist is a comforting weight as your attention shifts back over. Adler pulls you back slightly to his side so that you stand up-right before leaning down and whispering in your ear, "we do plan on paying for these right? Don't need you sweetening the deal with anything with wandering eyes."
You look up at Adler, eyebrow raised in question, "and here I thought you wanted a good deal?"
"Not my money, honey. I could care less about what you spend the budget on as long as we both make it back with majority of our pieces." you nod with a shrug. "We'll take these thank you."
The consultant blinks before smiling, "yes, let me ring these up for you two." Adler had yet to take a hand off your back until you both were a block away from the store before offering you his arm.
─────── · ·
Arriving back at the hotel, you ordered room service for dinner on the balcony before going over the plan for tomorrow. You both would be boarding a commercial plane, a car waiting to take you to an empty apartment across from the venue you would be attending to gain more information on the Russians space plans. An insider under the name red-gloves had slipped the information to your agency saying that this was a cover for the missiles they were building.
There would be five people you would be on the look out for, the Space Agency Director, his wife (and mistresses attending), the directors assistant, and surprisingly enough, a USA ambassador that was supposed to have returned a year ago.
Adler nodded along to the information as you wrapped a blanket over yourself, the wind catching and picking up as a few napkins threatened to join the breeze. A sudden clicking sound had you looking over to watch as your husband lit a cigarette, offering it to you before lighting another one for himself.
You both sat there in silence overlooking the city below you before stuffing out your cigarette and closing your eyes for a moment. You knew that this would be your bit of peace before the act actually started but in this moment, life felt so natural in an odd way as you began to understand why people did this, got married, so much so that you didn't realize yourself drifting away.
─────── · ·
"Hey, hey," Adler shook your gently before snapping his fingers in your face. You had not moved, instead burrowing further into his side with a smile- he scoffed. Flicking the bud burning his fingers to the ground and pressing it out he rolled you up in the blanket before picking you up in his arms and bringing you towards the bed.
He watched as your head found the pillow, debating of weather or not to move the covers on top as well, he decided against it but before he could step away from the mattress. Your hand gripped his shirt. "Stay."
"I'm not your husband just your co-worker," Adler retorted watching as you slowly woke back up from the change in temperature.
"I know that and I also know how miserable you were complaining about your back hurting all throughout the day. Now lay the fuck down, Russell Adler and get some good rest. I need my co-worker, work-ready in the morning not a grumpy husband, right?" you said back before rolling over to the other side and flicking the lamp off, "Goodnight."
Adler stood at the side of the bed, shaking his head. He couldn't believe you spitting his words right back at him before shrugging off his shirt before crawling underneath the covers.
─────── · ·
Waking up, you were surprised to find your pillow and blanket had changed as you head rested upon Adlers chest- his arm your blanket before you were leaning over the sleeping man to slam the alarm back to sleep. "Morning, sunshine," you teased, stretching in a groggy tone, bones cracking as Russell deeply groaned. The sound going directly through your spine with a shiver watching as Adler rose, his back flexing as he stood and reached down for his shirt while turning around you got a glimpse of his stomach before it was hidden away.
"If you keep looking at me like that, you'll get sick of me before the mission even starts, wife," Adler says before turning towards the kitchenette for a cup of coffee.
Rolling your eyes and falling back underneath the covers you could hear Adler shaming you from the next room. "Don't make me pull you out of that bed. It was your idea for us to make the earliest flight, sweetheart."
"Then do it and see what happens," you commented playfully yet tone coated in a sarcastic flair. "I think you'd be into it from what you were telling me yesterday," Adler says with a laugh before walking back into the room, two mugs in hand.
You silently take a mug, glaring as you bring it up to your lips to cover your heated cheeks. Adler looks out the window, hair tousled as he stretches his neck, fingers twitching for nicotine in the morning.
You watch the way the suns rays gently cast upon the gold locks of hair wanting nothing more than to stand and feel the softness of it underneath your fingertips.
"I thought we went over the starring thing already."
"Fuck off, Adler."
"Now thats more like it."
─────── · ·
121 notes · View notes
sgt-tombstone · 4 months ago
Text
y’all don’t mind if I ramble about a fic idea that’s been knocking around in my head for a while but will never get written, do you?
cool
it’s a grumpy-and-sunshine-professor AU where Simon is a history professor studying the history of death and Johnny is a professor of chemistry studying pyrotechnics. They both have fierce reputations within their departments; Johnny for being a lenient grader and an excellent teacher, and Simon for being a complete hardass
They’re secretly married to each other, but no one ever takes classes with both of them, so there hasn’t ever been a student that has found out. Johnny talks about his husband constantly, never by name, but his computer background is a picture of two unmistakably masculine hands with matching rings, obviously a wedding photo, and he usually starts class with a little story about something funny that his husband did the day/night before. It’s well-known that his husband is blond, massive, and an utter sweetheart. They obviously adore each other, if the weekend date stories that he tells are any indication (always innocent, of course)
Simon, on the other hand, never talks about his personal life at all. He starts class on the dot, getting straight to the point without any fanfare or chitchat. He’s a man of few words, and he uses them well and efficiently. He wears a ring on a necklace, and it sometimes slips out of his shirt during lecture, but no one dares ask (stories are told of the one student who did, and got a glare so acidic that he had dropped the class on the spot)
Then along comes (insert OC’s name here), who is a biology student focusing on infectious diseases. Johnny is her advisor and she adores him (not in that way, she’s a lesbian and he’s obviously besotted with his husband). She had him for her introductory chemistry classes and he was the only reason she passed; she’s trusted his judgment and advice implicitly ever since. So when she asks what class she should take for her required history elective, he recommends a class called The History and Impacts of the Black Death, and it sounds right up her alley but the professor listed gives her pause. She’s heard of Dr. Riley, of course; nearly everyone on campus has heard the stories of traumatized history majors avoiding Dr. Riley’s classes (ironically) like the plague. But she trusts Dr. MacTavish, so she registers anyway.
The class is tough. In her opinion, it’s way too difficult for an elective class, especially on top of her other upper level science classes, but she hasn’t gotten this far without knowing how to step up to a challenge, and Dr. Riley’s scathing feedback on her first assignment has her digging her heels in instead of throwing in the towel. The topic is interesting; she’d never really looked into the history of infectious diseases, and the Black Death is morbidly fascinating. She struggles a bit with the historical aspects of the class at first, especially when Dr. Riley expects his students to already have a firm grasp on Medieval history and she very much does not, but she’ll never pass up an opportunity to do some external research to catch up to where the rest of the class—populated mostly by history majors—is in their studies.
Towards the end of the semester, close to the end of November, the student’s mother finds out about her girlfriend and kicks her out late at night. With nowhere else to go, she remembers that Dr. MacTavish is both openly gay and has invited groups of students to his house for club meetings and field trips. It’s a little awkward, but she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, so she walks to his house in the rain. When she knocks on the door, Dr. MacTavish answers with clear concern, and he waves her inside quickly. She explains her situation, panicking about the entire thing because she’s standing in her advisor’s house at 10pm, her parents have just cut her off, and she’s scared and wet. Dr. MacTavish calls into the other room, presumably to his husband, asking for a towel.
The last person she expects to round the corner is Dr. Riley, holding a fluffy towel and an expression equally as concerned as Dr. MacTavish’s. His husband.
She has to sit down.
They sit and talk as she dries off and warms up. Johnny makes her a cup of hot chocolate while Dr. Riley—Simon—builds a fire in the fireplace. She huddles close to it as they talk, and she eventually ekes the story out of them; how they met, how they hated each other at first, how they fell in love. Simon is talkative and animated, drawing energy from the man sitting beside him, and the student finds herself enchanted by the two of them, the side of her professors that she never gets to see. It should feel like a breach of privacy, a line crossed, but it feels like staying up late with her uncles. They make up the guest bedroom for her and all go to bed, reminded that they all have class tomorrow.
The student ends up staying with some friends, couch-surfing in their apartment until she can get her feet back under her, but she spends several nights a week at the Riley-MacTavish household, delving into the intricacies of infectious diseases and their connection to society with Simon. She enjoys the friendly arguments the two professors get into and often chooses sides arbitrarily to keep them on their toes. She switches her advisor from Johnny to Simon (Johnny pretends to be upset, but he’s secretly overjoyed that Simon is connecting so well with a student), and ends up writing a thesis paper under his tutelage.
Idk how it’s gonna end yet, maybe with a far future scene where she sees the two of them at a conference and throws herself at them, wrapping them both in massive hugs. It earns her several very odd stares, especially from those who know Dr. Riley’s reputation, but she doesn’t care. They were there for her in the darkest night of her life, and she’ll always have a soft spot for both of them
129 notes · View notes
destinygoldenstar · 3 months ago
Text
Don’t pause your story to explain characters/character chemistry.
What I mean by this is putting your story to a halt to have a paragraph or two explaining who your characters are in sentences you use on character sheets.
Now I’m not saying don’t use exposition. It’s necessary after all.
But there is a way to get your audience to understand who your characters are without pausing the story progressing. You can tell your audience who they are without it feeling like you’re shoving the info in their face.
I’m going to show an example from one of my own works:
“Charlie Sue is the world of Fate’s well known Chosen One. Every week on Saturday Morning at the strike of twelve, it’s his job to go out on the town to hunt for crimes to fight and bring justice to. However, despite his fame status, he’s rather unenthusiastic of this action, and would much rather keep quiet and curl up in a book to read about the average life of the folk without destinies. But due to his status, he will still do the job and can’t say no.”
“Sherilyn Rosuto, his housemate, is quite the opposite. She loves these crime fighting outings. She’s an action seeking girl at her core, taking interest in the brawling going around town, sports or otherwise. She is loud, carefree, and impulsive in how she approaches things, so Charlie has to keep her in check.”
“Charlie and Sheri are childhood best friends. They care about each other very deeply and want each other to be at their best. Sheri is Charlie’s Number Two. Wherever he goes, she will always be thrilled to tag along. She keeps him motivated about the next outing, whether it be training, or her own enthusiasm. Despite destiny decreeing Sheri as merely a sidekick to Charlie, Charlie truly values her as a good friend he can’t do without.”
What’s WRONG with this?
Well, one, this is a character sheet from mine before I even wrote a draft.
These paragraphs are good at directly telling you who these two characters are and what their dynamic is.
BUT that’s all they do. They put the story in a screeching halt to give the audience this exposition. As a result, it’s telling you how you should feel about them, without actually giving you a reason to care about them or their chemistry.
You can get all this important information across through action and interaction.
Make some key lines implying who they are and what they’re thinking. Making it feel like they are who you want them to come across as.
In this case, two best friends who motivate each other.
So instead of using those paragraphs, I created a whole introductory scene of these two and their dynamic, setting up the action to progress the story.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
What does this say about them? A LOT, ACTUALLY.
Everything in those paragraphs from earlier is established here, but it’s natural, and not pandering who they are. You SEE how good of friends they are and what their characterization is.
Now granted it’s not perfect, on a Google doc this scene is about 2 1/2 pages so it could be trimmed if you wanted it to be.
Charlie starts the scene lazily reading, establishing not only his interest in books, but what else he takes interest in on what he’s reading. It’s said what the title of the book is. So you get a picture on his interest in the mundane life outside of his current life.
Sherilyn is the one to bring up the time, AKA, what time it is they usually start their outing. And she spends this section trying to strike up a conversation with Charlie to get him to come along.
She also talks about a sports related event, showing she takes interest in that sort of thing. She is also a brawler of the two of them.
Sherilyn also smashes her mug to get his attention, showcasing her loose cannon personality. You can tell from that simple action that she’s not only the talkative loud type, but the impulsive type.
Charlie’s clumsiness is also shown here as he accidentally breaks a lamp throwing his book. (Lamps breaking is a running gag throughout this book btw)
Sheri also has ice powers. That’s shown as she uses it to take care of the lamp mess.
You also get a description of their sides of their room to get more sense of their personality. I personally love these sorts of setting descriptions, especially if they’re telling you something about their characters. Charlie has some more of those mundane books, again, bookworm into mundane stuff. There’s some trinkets on his nightstand, implying that Charlie likes collecting these mundane non-magical things. Sheri meanwhile is an artist, a spray painter to be exact, and she’s a bike rider and a boxer, those are the kind of things she does, and the sports she’s into.
Charlie also sarcastically cheers for the day at their dog, again showing he doesn’t actually like these outings.
Sheri then, playfully, gets them warmed up for this outing to motivate him. Which starts more of their banter and interactions to understand both their characters and how good of friends they are.
Charlie comments against not showing off his body, telling us he doesn’t like that kind of exposure.
Charlie mentions Sheri dreamed of getting muscle since her twelfth birthday. Indicating that these two have been friends for quite awhile. (They’re seventeen.)
Sheri also uses the dog to describe something world building wise. Weeklings. Which are implied in this scene to be monsters by Sheri’s playful description. Charlie also comments that Bridge (location) Dark Lords (character group) don’t usually carry the kind Sherilyn is describing. Telling us where they are on the worlds map and how low the threat level is where they’re at.
These two also have playful banter regarding weaponry, in a friendly way. Telling us Sheri doesn’t use weapons, and Charlie advices she try it, showing concern for her when he asks if her face counts as a shield.
Sheri gives some encouragement to Charlie. She understands him and that he doesn’t like these outings, indicating familiarity and that she’s known him for awhile. She cheers him up a bit by suggesting going to a movie afterwards. Not a bar brawl lol.
You also see how Charlie is the cautious one by speaking against taking a motorcycle to their outing. And Sheri is the athletic one and wants her friend in top shape.
SO MUCH INFORMATION AND SO MUCH CHARACTER, AND BARELY OF IT IS NARRATED DIRECTLY. YOU SEE IT NATURALLY.
This whole scene is meant to be a character establishing scene that helps you understand the main characters and to get the action of the story started. The crime fight outing they’re going to kickstarts the entire plot.
Show Don’t Tell. Move the story along.
If a scene isn’t progressing the story, it should be telling you something about characters and why the audience should care about them.
Your audience should be shown why they should care about your characters and their dynamics. By getting to know who they are and why they either care about each other or don’t.
65 notes · View notes
pandora-writes-one-piece · 8 months ago
Text
The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 4
Tumblr media
Source for pic
Firestarter 4
Word Count: 6856
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?
Notes: And so the angst begins! If you wish to be added to a tag list, say so! Thank you!
Tag List: @rosidaze
Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.
|Previous Chapter| | |Next Chapter|
Saturday comes and it’s very uneventful. Your father says he's got some plans with his friend Mihawk and you use the free time to clean up the rest of your room - there were still a lot of trophies and books from when you were a child, but now it finally resembles a grown-up room. 
Your initial plans for the afternoon included a marathon of trash TV and plopping down on the couch like a parasite, maybe even gobbling up some junk food. But it's such a nice day outside that you decide to do some sunbathing. 
And you do. You dress in a simple red two-piece bikini and lather sunscreen on your body before heading outside armed with your headphones, a book and a towel. The backyard has a little wooden deck with two sun chairs and a small pool. The pool is closed but you're not really interested in it. So you get your little setup and sigh in relaxation. You never had moments like these in the city. Ichiji liked the fancy parties and clubs, there was barely any time the both of you spent together like this. 
In retrospect, you should've seen the end of the relationship coming. You barely had anything else to give each other. It was only a matter of time. 
You cosy up on the chair and stretch. It feels really nice. 
The view of the property is relaxing and the only house you can see in the proximity is Mr. Garp’s. The houses are only separated by a small path and you can see the windows perfectly well. You know which one was Luffy’s old room, you have been there a bunch of times, but you don't quite know which one is Ace's. 
You try to guess based on the knowledge you have of the inside of the house. It's either the one to the right of Luffy’s, or it's the one that faces the side of the house. 
A small smile creeps its way to your lips as you remember your time together at the firestation. Being with Ace felt really natural. You didn't have to force any conversation, he made you laugh and, damn, the chemistry. The sexual tension was crazy. 
But there is only a slight problem. You aren't looking to be just another one. You are no longer in that phase of your life when you're just looking for fun. You want something actually meaningful. And Ace is not meant for meaningful relationships. He isn't capable of it. 
You exchanged some texts with Nami last night saying that you had fun and she had probed you so hard that you caved and admitted you feel very attracted to Ace. But then you probed her, and every assumption you had about him was correct. He is a player and leaves behind him a long trail of broken hearts. He's all about the chase and the conquest. Once he gets the kiss, the girl, the fuck… It's over. 
And you refuse to be just that. 
The afternoon rolls by lazily and you have already rolled over on your back and on your front, just like a happy kitten. Until you see a movement in Ace's house. 
It’s him. 
You were right, his room is next to Luffy’s. He stands in front of the window - shirtless - and unaware that you are there, apparently, since he’s staring somewhere else, his signature cheeky grin in place, and you smile. Damn, he’s cute. 
Off-limits, player, just a crush! 
Can he see you? Could he be tempted to join you in the sun? 
Immediately your head starts to create interesting scenarios for both of you to play out. 
Ace arriving with his cocky smirk and telling you that you look gorgeous. 
Ace setting a knee in the middle of your legs to pry them open as his hand cradles your neck to pull your face up. 
His other hand clutching your hip for dear life. His tongue licking the sweat from your body, from your belly to your chest. 
The hottest kiss you could ever dream of, eliciting all kinds of choked noises and mewls from your mouth. 
You take a deep breath and fan your hat over your face. Maybe it's time to get out of the sun? You're getting pretty hot! 
You gather your book and start to get up when you take another look at Ace's window. And then instantly freeze and regret having looked at all. 
There is a young brunette girl in front of the window, grinning while she closes the curtains. 
Your breath catches for an instant. And then the dread in your stomach spreads its icy tendrils up to your heart. 
It's nothing short of a surprise. It's what he does. His modus operandi. But the realisation still stings. Just last night he told you that he's always thinking about you. Your mind told you, at that moment, that it was a line he used on every girl, yet, your heart thought differently. 
But today, not even 24 hours later, he has a girl in his room. 
You refuse to cry. Even if the tears are more of frustration and about how gullible you are, more than anything else. 
Yet, you should've known. You were warned. 
-*-
Ace keeps sending you texts asking how you are and if you want to hang out. You keep leaving him unread. You're still pretty pissed at him, even though you know you have no right to be. He's not your anything. 
Then you get another text. It's Nami this time, so you open it.  
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You miss Luffy! Ace told you he also works at the firestation, but since he no longer lives with his grandfather, you still haven’t gotten the chance to hang out with him. You’ll definitely go to this party. Even if you’re sure to run into Ace and whatever girl he’s with right now…
Tumblr media
This triggers Nami, so she instantly calls you. 
“What are you talking about?”
“Forget it, Nami. It's nothing new. I just saw him through the window of his room with some girl.” You force out a laugh. “Nami, it's just a silly attraction. Nothing else. I just think he's really hot!”
“Babe, if you keep thinking about him I think you should just ride that cowboy… Scratch that itch… You get my drift? Take it out of your head and then that's it!”
“You sound ridiculous.”
“Yet no wiser words have ever been spoken.”
“Maybe, but I'm not interested in being just another notch under his belt. I'd much rather be just a friend.” You reiterate. 
“From what I hear, I’d say it's your loss!” She chuckles. “But you're still coming to the party, right?”
“Yes, obviously.” You agree with a chuckle. 
“And if Ace's there with his bimbo?”
“Good riddance to both. I just want to be friends with him, anyway.”
You can almost hear the eye roll on the other end. But to her credit, she doesn't say anything. 
“Deal. We'll meet at your house to get ready. It's closer. I'll tell Robin.”
You agree and after hanging up, there's still a small smile pressed upon your lips. Nami is a friend and she makes you happy. Ace is also a friend. You shouldn't be mad at him. 
Therefore, you open his texts and finally answer him, claiming to have been busy. Forgetting all about the brunette bimbo and simply focusing on your friendship. 
Just like Nami, he gets tired of texting and calls you. 
“Hey gorgeous. I thought you were ghosting me.”
You lie back on the bed and roll your eyes. “Don't call me gorgeous. And I could never ghost you. I've just been busy.”
“Yeah, I get it. I've had a busy day as well.” He chuckles and the cold in your stomach spreads. 
“I bet…” You mumble. 
Friends! Friends! Friends! 
“I can't call you princess and I can't call you gorgeous, what do you want me to call you then?”
Why is his chuckle so damn sexy over the phone? 
“My name, genius! What else?”
“I'll get back to you about that.” Another chuckle. “Have you heard about my little brother’s party?”
“Nami is my friend, how could I not?” You chuckle. 
“Right, right. Are you going?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Me too, obviously.”
Then he proceeds to tell you about the busy day he had helping his grandfather with some affairs at the house and about some paperwork he still had to do from this week's occurrences at the firestation and you tell him about your day. 
He doesn't mention the brunette. And neither do you. 
Somehow, the time goes by and you end up talking with Ace for almost two hours straight. Just like you were musing earlier, he's so easy to talk with. So natural, so fun. 
Shanks knocks lightly on the door and pokes his head inside. “Bug? Dinner's ready.”
You rise immediately, sitting on the bed with wide eyes. Dinner already? You didn't even realise it was already dinner time, and you had meant to cook it. Shanks must have realised that you were taking too long on the phone and did it himself. 
“Oh! Right. I'll be right down, dad. Ace I've got to go. Talk to you tomorrow, bye.”
Shanks bites his cheek, his brows scrunched. It looks as if he wants to say something, but he's considering that it's not his place to do so. So he smiles at you and begins to walk downstairs to the kitchen and you follow. 
The first minutes of the meal are spent in silence until you start telling him about your day. Then, abruptly he talks. 
“Bug… Is your relationship with Ace advancing?”
The fork stops midway to your mouth and you feel your cheeks burn. 
“I know it's not really my place. You are an adult and I was not a present father in your life. Believe me, I regret it most days. Maybe if I had tried a little harder, you and your mother could still be together and you'd have grown up with me. Maybe I had more right to butt into your business. But I worry… and… well…”
“Dad, Ace and I are just friends. Nothing else. He's really easy to talk with and we have a lot of the same interests. He's fun. But that's it. Don't worry.”
You can almost see the relief in Shanks’ face. And you almost feel bad about the way Ace really makes you feel. Because your father's worry is not at all misplaced. Ace is dangerous for impressionable hearts. 
“Friends? Okay, okay. That's good.”
You just have to make sure your heart is not impressionable and that friends are all you and he will ever be. That's all you want to be. 
-*-
The next morning passes by pretty fast as you help your dad with the chores and get the horses and the ponies ready for the Summer Jubilee. Shanks is going to have a horse riding station, mostly for the kids, but sometimes adults like to join too. 
“How's your back, dad?”
“I'm managing. I'm still taking the pills.” 
“Don't overdo it, alright? Are you sure you don't need me there to help you?” 
“No, baby, Beckman will be there to help me. You know he loves these horses. You go and have fun at your party.” 
Benn Beckman is one of your dad’s oldest friends. They used to play some sport together in school and they both never left town, so it’s a natural friendship, like yours with Nami and Robin. The festival only starts on Monday, but the vendors and concessionaires that will have their businesses at the fair are going to use Sunday to set up and you feel as if you should be helping your dad instead of going to a party. 
Shanks winks, and you laugh. “I will, dad.”
“Just not too much fun…” He grumbles, beneath his breath and you roll your eyes as you climb the stairs to take a bath and wait for the girls. 
-*-
“Ohhh, I've got the perfect dress for you!” Nami claps excitedly and you roll your eyes to the back of your head. 
“I have my own clothes, Nami! What is it with you and trying to get me into your clothes?”
“Funny, she always tries to get me out of them…” Vivi muses and you laugh out loud. 
“Honey, don't take this the wrong way. You're beautiful, but your clothes are a bit… plain… don't you want to dress to impress?” She winks. 
“Not really, no.”
“Too bad. This dress is perfect. Vivi and Robin already agreed and I won't take no for an answer. Ace will be blown away!”
You sigh and let Nami dress you up as if you were a barbie doll. There’s no use in fighting her, really. And you hate to admit it, but she does own some sexy clothes. And you do want to blow Ace away.
Though you’re having a hard time admitting it.
-*-
As you cross the tiny pathway to Mr. Garp’s house - turns out ‘at Luffy’s’ means there because Luffy’s flat is too small to fit his many, many friends - your heart starts to beat faster. You know Ace will be there. And you know there will be girls all over him. But you should also know that you can't be jealous, because you're nothing but a friend to him. 
And that's all you'll ever be. 
Still, you feel as if an army of tiny ants are crawling on your insides because everything is moving and squirming in there and you are actually quite nervous to meet him. You guys had a wonderful chat yesterday, but you also knew he had been with another girl before speaking with you. 
And Nami has already told you: Ace is a chaser. He likes the difficulty in seducing women - not that it's difficult for him, you bet. You need to keep repeating in your head: you don't want to be just another girl! 
Are you obsessing? 
Shaking your head, you try to steady your heels on the uneven path. Why did you listen to Nami? You tried to put on sneakers, but after she dressed you in the most shockingly slinky, short red dress with a draped cowl neckline and thin gold chain straps, she almost had a heart attack when she saw your feet. 
She screamed sacrilege and almost hit you in the head with the gold heels. You kept repeating that it was too much, but none of the girls listened to you. To be fair all of them look equally stunning and sexy, so you don't really feel that out of place. 
Still, it's hard to walk in these things and you're pretty sure you’ll be taking them off at one point or another as the party progresses.
As you pass the threshold of the front door, you get immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. It smells like sweat, pot and booze, and the mixture makes you wrinkle your nose. 
“Who are all these people?” You ask Nami, screaming over the loud music. 
“Luffy has many friends!” She answers with a laugh. 
Right. He has many friends but they're definitely from out of town because you're pretty sure that he has more people inside this house than the entire population of your hometown. 
Robin wanders away saying she saw Sabo and she wants to say hi. Nami winks suspiciously at her and the raven-haired girl blushes and giggles. Then, Nami does a little crowd check and smiles. 
“Oh, I see my friend Lola. Will you be alright by yourself or do you wanna come?” She asks with concern and you nod vigorously. You are already seeing some familiar faces, and you won't mind mingling for a while. She smiles and saunters over with her girlfriend, also ready to mingle. 
Sighing, you set out to find a drink, first. You're in the right mood to get wasted after thinking about Ace sucking face with half of the pretty girls at this party! And free booze is just the right way to do it. Sanji is there and you take the cocktail he effortlessly makes for you with a big smile but you don't get to chat much as his drinks are in high demand and he excuses himself to go cater to another beautiful lady. 
You chuckle at his ways and take a sip of the drink he made for you. Perfect. 
You hear your name being shouted and turn around with wide eyes. It's Luffy. You hug him and he hugs back, introduces you to some of his many friends and both of you speak as if you never stopped talking at all. 
“I'm so glad you're back in town again! Ace can't stop talking about you!” He grins and you blush. 
“Right. I bet.”
But, even though you wouldn't mind knowing what Ace has to say about you, Luffy is also in high demand and gets summoned by a man with a long nose and curly black hair, who's smiling at him. Excusing himself, Luffy promises to find you again and you promise to hold him to that. 
You take another look around the room, trying to find old friends amidst the sea of new faces, but your eyes are immediately drawn to him. In all his shirtless glory, obviously. And, even more obvious is the way there's a brunette sticking to his side. An arm draped around his waist and dreamy eyes on her face. 
It figures. The party has just started and already Ace has chosen his catch of the day. Or maybe it's the catch from yesterday?
It irks you so much! Why does he have to be such a player? No, screw that! He can be a player all he wants, he just needs to stop giving you attention and making you feel special! He needs to back off! So you can move on! Geez, you look like a teenager with her first serious crush. 
Chugging the cocktail in one go, you cringe at the aftertaste and quickly ask Sanji to make you another one. You've made up your mind. You just need to avoid Ace all night. If he doesn't speak with you, there's no chance for him to enchant you with his deceiving words. There. You're a genius. 
With this happy resolution in mind and a new tasty cocktail in hand, you decide to leave this room. First step to avoiding Ace, don't be where he is. 
Swaying your hips to the beat of the song, you make your way to the backyard so you can breathe some fresh air and though there are many people outside, the open makes everything better and you inhale deeply. 
“Heeey beautiful.” A slurred voice echoes near your ear as a grimy hand moves your hair away from your shoulder, from behind. “Is that dress on sale? Because it's 100% off at my place!”
You cringe as you turn and slap the hand away from you. “First of all: eughhh! Secondly, don't touch me, creep.” The man looming near you smirks and licks his lips as his eyes rake your body from head to toe, drinking you in, and he further invades your space. 
“Come on,” he snorts and you realise he's clearly inebriated or high, or maybe both. “Dressing like that, what were you expecting?” He reaches and tries to touch you, but a large hand, coming from a presence behind you, wraps around his wrist and stops him. 
“Respect, obviously.” A low voice rumbles over your head as you turn your head around and meet the cold gaze of Ace, boring his dark eyes straight into the boy in front of you. Because in the face of Ace, he's nothing but a scared little boy. He steps in front of you and smirks. “Now apologise and beat it, before I kick you out of my house.” You're impressed with how he managed to speak such menacing words with a smile and still sound threatening. 
The boy mutters a hastened apology and escapes, tail between his legs. 
You face Ace with a frown still upon your lips. So much for avoiding him. Your plan failed and you're not a genius. You're actually an idiot. “Why do you insist on being my knight in shining armour? Especially since you're never wearing anything other than shorts!” You reply deadpan as you point at his naked torso. 
He's checking you out. His eyes linger suggestively on your exposed legs - Nami, once again, knew who she was dealing with when dressing you - and a cheeky smirk curves his cheeks upwards and makes his freckles dance just for you. “I know you like seeing my muscles.” He flexes and guffaws as you roll your eyes. 
“Yeah, me and all these young, impressionable college girls. Smooth, Ace.” You muffle a snort by taking another sip of the amazing cocktail and close your eyes in bliss. “Thank you, but I know how to defend myself from creeps. You can go now. I see a lot of lonely girls ogling you. I'm sure you have better things to do.” You mention suggestively. 
It still stings to know Ace is a player. And that you almost fell for his act. Because how can you not fall for the hot, freckled, funny and helpful fireman who compliments you and pays attention to you? Until you realise you're just another one. And you're not special nor ever were. Not to him, not to anyone. You're just… just… 
You. 
Sighing, you finish your drink in one gulp and turn inside to get another. Maybe this time you'll bring a bottle with you. 
“Woah, easy there, tiger. Don't chug your drinks like that. They taste sweet but they pack a mean punch! Sanji doesn't go light on the alcohol unless you specifically tell him to.”
You eye his drink and, honestly, don't even care what's in it. Locking eyes with him and burning him with your gaze, you snatch the red cup from his hand, ignoring his protests and warning words. “Well, boo-freaking-hoo!” With a mock toast gesture, you chug the whole thing in one gulp.
And regret it immediately.
You cough and wheeze, eyes brimming with tears as you try to breathe through your nose to calm the burn in your throat. Ace just stares at you and crosses his arms over his bare chest. The drink was nasty! It was like pure alcohol. 
“What the hell?” You sputter. 
“I told you, you couldn't handle it.”
“Shove off, Ace!” You drawl as you turn back inside in search of a bottle. God, this man infuriates you. He doesn't follow you inside and you don't care for the empty feeling that leaves in your stomach. You'll soon fill up that spot with some booze. 
Securing a bottle, you make your way back outside, expertly avoiding the place where Ace was, and start mingling with some old school friends. Time flies in an instant. Either that, or the vodka you snatched is really good, because suddenly everything seems to be spinning around you. 
You make up an excuse and try to find your way back inside, ready to find Nami and tell her this was a terrible idea and you are going to go home. But, instead, you take another chug of the bottle and wince. The numbness of the alcohol is quite refreshing, maybe a bit more won't hurt. 
But your steps are uneven and you keep bumping into people and apologising. Someone grabs you and pulls you into a dance and you can't quite tell if you know the person or not. It looks like he has spiky green hair and a loop for a nose ring. His teeth seem really sharp but that might be just the alcohol talking. He starts to get handsy because you're losing your balance, but soon, his hands go from your waist to your hips and try to get lower. 
Your brain clicks and you shove the man away but you are even dizzier from the dance and ready to fall or pass out until a strong pair of hands grabs your waist and sets you over his shoulder unceremoniously. 
Before you protest, you realise it's Ace just by the smell of him. That darn smokey wood and fresh pine! A freaking punch in the gut just as you were having fun. “Let go!” You slur into his back as you start to kick your feet in the air. 
“Stop it! Your dress is riding up! This thing is freaking short.” He hisses. 
“I don't care! Let go of me, Ace, I mean it!” You keep kicking and sure enough, your dress is almost exposing your butt, so you feel him pull the fabric down and settle his warm, big hand over the gap of your thighs and your butt so it doesn't ride up again. 
That action stops your squirming immediately. 
You start to take notice of your position: breasts are squished against his back and bare legs feeling all of the heat emanating from his chest. And his smell… God, his intoxicating smell is making your head spin. Or perhaps that’s from all the alcohol. 
Why is he with you? Shouldn't he be sucking face with some bimbo? 
You realise you still have the bottle in your hand, so you take another sip as Ace carries you up the stairs. You've been upstairs at Luffy’s house before. In his room, never in Ace's. Because that's definitely where he's taking you. So in with another sip. 
“Stop drinking!” He hisses again and sets you down at the top of the stairs. You stumble and hit your back against the wall with a low whine. At least you're steady now. 
Grinning, you raise the bottle, your eyes never leaving his harsh stare. “Make me.” You taunt and take another sip. Ace grunts as his hands tousle his dark hair. 
“You're infuriating.” 
“Hmm, hmm.” You chuckle. “As I thought. You're all bark and no bite.” You take a step to the side to descend the steps, aiming to get another bottle, or to find Nami, or leave. Whatever. Anything to get away from Ace's intoxicating presence. 
But the stairs move! Or the floor does. You're not certain. What you do know is that you're about to fall. 
But, obviously, you don't get to fall, because your knight is right there for you, holding your waist and pulling your body against his. Ace’s head nuzzles against the crook of your neck while his arm circles your waist, protectively. You feel pressure on your hips just as he digs his digits firmly against your flesh, his hip fixation driving you crazy once more as your toes curl. 
A gasp leaves your parted lips as he inhales your scent and then you moan softly as he exhales hot breath against your neck, trailing goosebumps with his lips and grunting near your ear. 
He lets go abruptly and wraps a hand around your wrist, tugging and pulling you towards his bedroom. Is this going to happen? Are you going to fall into his trap? 
Because you're drunk? 
Opening the door he throws you onto his bed with a growl and turns. You hear him breathing heavily but you can't do anything as everything is spinning around you and, even if you wanted to, you couldn't quite get up yet. 
After a moment you hear his feet shuffle as he turns back to you. “Sleep.” He approaches and snatches the bottle from your hand. “And enough of this.”
He turns to leave the room but you grab his wrist. Were you going for the bottle? Or was it really his wrist you meant to grab? 
“Stay.” You whisper against your will. 
You can almost hear his internal battle raging outside. You're drunk, and you know he doesn't want to take advantage. But you do. 
Do you? 
His jaw clenches and he sits by the foot of the bed, away from you, his face turned as he's assaulted by a grim look. 
You can't think too much about this or it will never happen. You're drunk. So you should just go with it. You're sure it'll feel good. It will help you process whatever it is you think you feel for him and then, finally, forget him. What did Nami say? 
Ride that cowboy, scratch that itch. 
Damn, riding him does sound good. Who cares about the dumb bimbos he has downstairs waiting for him? Who cares if he'll just find another girl to chase after you?
Sex sounds pretty damn appealing now. 
“So how does this work, exactly?” You start, getting on your knees and approaching his body, one hand caressing his naked shoulders and now he can't help but stare back at you. “You seduce the girl, or barely do anything because you have all that!” You point at his body with a snort. “And then after you've fucked her, you move on? It's like she never existed, nothing happened, just another notch under your belt?”
You ask while he keeps staring at you. You can't read anything in his dark eyes. His freckles seem lifeless, his smirk is gone and he doesn't seem amused at all. 
“Because if that's how it works, maybe we should have a go at it. You just fuck me and we both move on. Because I can't take this anymore, Ace.” Your voice is barely a whisper. You move closer and straddle his lap. Your dress rides up and you buckle your hips against him, feeling his hardness against your achy, needy core as he muffles a grunt against his pressed lips. His hands twitch as if he wants to grab you but they remain planted firmly against the bed. His eyes never leave yours, yet he remains silent. “I can't be this hung up on you anymore, Ace. So just get this over and done with, will you? So we can both move on.”
Tilting your head to the side and digging your nails into his scalp, you lean in for the kiss, ready to take his lips, his tongue, his hands and his dick. And then his rejection, his aloofness and the hurt of seeing him with someone else. 
That is the whole Ace package. 
But maybe that's what it takes to stop obsessing over him. 
Except you don't take anything because he stops you. Two strong hands on your shoulders push you back as his gaze falls down, facing your bodies where they are close. Would be connected, even, if not for the clothing between you. Ace is breathing heavily and you can feel the tension oozing out of him in hot waves. 
“Stop.” He says your name firmly. And you know a ‘no’ when you hear one. Even though this one hurts like hell. 
Nodding, it takes you a few turns to swallow the hard lump that formed in your throat. As you get off his lap and fix your dress, you notice that the world is spinning once again and this time it's almost unbearable. 
“It's not that I don't want you. Trust me.” He groans. “It's just… you're not even going to remember this conversation tomorrow, let alone be of sane mind to consent to sex.” He snorts and shakes his head. “When-... if we do this, I want you to remember all of it.”
You roll your eyes at him and scoff loudly. “I would rather forget.” You mumble and lie back, curling to the side and closing yourself off. As if you would like to remember the time when Ace used you and dumped you - if it happened. Forgetting is much easier than getting all of his attention. 
He sighs and gets up. Then he takes off your shoes and tells you to close your eyes and sleep. You close them, with a heavy heart and a heavier conscience. You do hope you don't remember this tomorrow. The way you threw yourself at him and the way he swiftly rejected you. 
Which one is worse, really? 
Covering your body with a blanket, he puts the trash can near the bed in case you need it later - you’ll probably need it. There’s a heaviness on top of your eyes, the beginnings of a throbbing headache, and a moment passes but Ace doesn't leave. His presence still fills the room, still fills you and makes your heart ache. But you don't open your eyes to acknowledge him - or your pain - and your breath starts to even out. 
You hear him sigh and sense him leaning above you, his head hovering near yours. “You would never be just another notch under my belt…” He murmurs and kisses your forehead gently before leaving you alone in his room.
-*-
You’re woken up either by the bright sun shining directly on your eyelids, or by the throbbing headache in your temples, you’re not quite sure.
Either way, your body says that it’s too early for this, and it’s too freaking hot. When it gets this hot, you usually lean against the wall on the side of your bed to absorb the coolness from the bricks. So you turn to the side and scoot over to mould yourself against the cool wall.
Except there’s no wall. 
And there’s no more bed.
So you fall with a soft yelp, dragging the blanket - which is rolled around your torso, arms and face, for some reason - and fall onto the hard floor.
Wait.
You fall, alright, but not onto the hard floor. It’s firm. And it’s a body. It’s grunting.
Huffing, you try to stand up but the blanket makes the job difficult and the room is still spinning from all the alcohol you ingested yesterday, so you sit, on top of the body, stradling the man below you, and trying - in vain! - to either get up or to get rid of the blanket, all the while muffling apologies for the minor ‘inconvenience’. 
In the middle of your desperate plight to escape your situation, you hear another low grunt and feel two strong hands grab your hips and pin you against his body, making it impossible to move.
“Stop. Squirming. Please.” 
It’s Ace. You stop immediately, your free hand grasping at the surface in front of you - his abs. Feeling your face burn up at the touch you realise the reality of your situation: You’re both on the floor, with you straddling him and fondling his perfect six-pack - maybe stop touching him! - and he’s very hard between your legs. 
“I-I’m sorry. It’s… the blanket…” You start, your face hidden by the thrice-damned blanket. Ace grunts again and you wince at the loss of contact when he removes one of his hands and rips the blanket off you with one swift motion. 
The pull disrupts your balance, and you dig your nails into his stomach - that’s sure to leave a mark - and tighten your legs around him to try and steady yourself. You know he doesn’t mean to, but Ace bucks his hips up with your squirming and you barely bite back a whine at the friction that creates in your core. 
“Fuck.” He mutters with a desperate exhale, lifting his torso up and facing you.
This is dangerous territory. And now you’re free, so you should get up. Why don’t you? 
Ace’s fingers grip your hips tighter. When did his hand return to your hip? You didn’t notice it, it’s like it belongs there. And why are you now grabbing his shoulders? His eyes are all pupil and he doesn’t blink while he drinks you in. You know you must be a mess. Hair all over the place, smudged makeup, dress straps off your shoulders… yet the look he’s giving you makes you feel like you’re the only girl that matters in the world. 
“Don’t do that…” You whisper. You want him to stop looking at you like that, to stop making you feel special and wanted, because you can’t take another heartbreak, and there’s no way that something you start with Ace won’t end in heartbreak. So you need to nip this in the bud even before it blooms. 
“Right.” His voice is hoarse and ragged as his hold tightens around your waist, lifting you with ease and setting you aside, removing himself from the situation. He grabs a discarded shirt from the back of his chair and leaves the room cursing and tousling his hair. 
You only meant for him to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t want him to leave completely. Right? Because now there’s a sudden emptiness inside and around you and you’re not quite sure how to be complete again. 
Sighing, you massage your temples with both hands. The tension between the two of you is becoming unbearable. Should he just fuck you and get it over with so you could each go your own way?
Why does this line of thought feel so familiar?
Lowering your head, you inhale and almost gag at the smell of your dress. At some point yesterday you must’ve spilled an entire drink on yourself, because it smells like the back alley of the town's dingiest tavern. 
You test your stability by slowly lifting yourself with the help of the bed, and it works. Then you look around and, sure enough, there’s a half-crumpled t-shirt lying on the chair, the same place he took the other one from. Grabbing it, you take a tentative sniff. It doesn’t smell bad. If anything, it smells like him.
It smells amazing.
Even though Ace closed the door when he left, you turn your back and quickly discard your dress. You curse when you realise you’re not wearing a bra because the dress didn’t allow for one, but you still pull the shirt over you. It falls to your thighs, almost at the same height as the dress.
“Hmm, hmm.” Ace’s grunt startles you and you turn swiftly to the door. Did he see you change? “Here.” He extends a glass of water and two pills. His eyes are locked on the ceiling and there’s a slight blush on his cheeks. He saw you.
You choose not to acknowledge the fact.
“Thanks.” You take the pills and almost inhale the glass of water because you’re so thirsty. Then you sigh in satisfaction and set the glass on his desk. “I took your shirt, I thought you wouldn’t mind… seeing as you barely wear them.”
That elicited a very small chuckle from him, but the curl of his lips didn’t even reach his freckles. 
“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck.
“No. Not much. I think I remember you bringing me here, but then, nothing. I must’ve blacked out immediately, right?” You chuckle and miss the pained grimace on his face.
“Yeah, that was it.”
“Sorry for taking your bed and making you sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. “Sorry for falling on top of you… I thought I was in my room, you see, there’s usually a wall there and-...” You stop your wild gestures and chuckle. 
Why does this feel weird all of a sudden?
“I guess I should get going. Shanks might be worried.” You know your father will never say anything about you spending the night away or drinking, you’re no longer a kid, but he will still worry.
“I texted him last night to tell him you were alright and spending the night.”
You flush as your eyes meet his. “You told him just like that?” He nods and you groan. “Great, he’s going to think we have something.”
“Who would want that, right?” He sounds sarcastic.
“What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem!” He grunts again and you somehow pick up on the fact that he’s angry at you, or frustrated at least. 
“Clearly you do!” Taking a step forward, you try to approach him with your hand extended, but he turns his face away from you with a ‘tsk’ and steps back. For some reason your heart sinks and you feel cold. 
“Got it. I’m the problem. I’ll get out of here, no worries.” Maybe he wanted to spend the night with some girl and you being in his bed got in the way of that? That had to be it. Why else would he be so upset?
Grabbing your shoes from the floor and your crumpled, smelly dress, you make your way to the door, brows knitted together and lips pursed. 
“I’m so sorry for getting in the way of your lay. Maybe you should’ve just dumped me in Luffy’s old room instead of your own. Then you would’ve been able to fuck whomever you wanted.”
You stomp past him and you don’t know why you have tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Might be because of the hangover? It has to be.
“So sorry for the inconvenience.” You shout before running down the hall, down the stairs and to your home.
116 notes · View notes
sendandburn · 7 months ago
Text
An analysis of Severus Snape as a teacher
"Three things always come up in the context of Snape’s abusiveness. One of them is not something Snape does but a reaction to him.
1. Threatened to Poison Neville’s Toad
This is one of two direct interactions between Snape and Neville in the books. Since it merits real-time narration, it must stand out: Snape is at his worst at this moment.
A particularly nasty mood is understandable:
“have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted.” “Where?” [...] “Not too far from here,” said Seamus.
Snape believes that Black betrayed the Potters and wants to go after Harry. Black also nearly murdered Snape in their fifth year, so Snape has reason to be on edge.
His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned — “Orange, Longbottom,” said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see [Harry assumes]. “Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?” Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears. “Please, sir,” said Hermione, “please, I could help Neville put it right —” “I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.”
Not great. Snape is not a suitable teacher for an introductory class, or for insecure children like Neville, but abusive, this is not. The fact that Neville brought Trevor to class shows that Neville never expected to be very severely sanctioned for doing that or for Trevor to come to any harm, before that lesson. Snape is at the end of his rope with Neville and wants him to take the lesson seriously. He states his motives plainly - to get Neville to understand.
Did he mean harm to Trevor? Snape is competent enough that if he’d wanted that toad dead, it would be. In any case, the potion turned out alright, and Snape knew it - he can tell from the way the potion looks. Snape also has a bottle of the antidote in his other pocket:
Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville’s potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor’s throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape’s palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.
Is he sour because he hoped to kill Trevor? Why give it the antidote, thus saving it? Maybe he is sour for the reason he says he is:
“I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”
This is also why he docks five points, not because Neville got it right. This was a misguided attempt to teach. Nothing was ever going to happen to Trevor.
[Sidenote: Animal cruelty is commonplace at Hogwarts. sentient or semi-sentient animals are experimented on regularly in Transfig. They even vanish cats. Even the herbology plants seem able to feel pain, but 2nd year students are expected to chop up humanoid mandrakes. Flitwick demonstrates levitation on Trevor, and Harry practices Accio on him.]
Let's be clear here: putting the wrong number of spleens into a potion suggests someone who either doesn't consider the instructions to be important, or simply doesn't care.
Something else to consider is just how dangerous someone like Neville is to the class. In university, one of the requirements for my degree was Organic Chemistry, which contained a large lab portion to it. Organic Chemistry, for those who don't know, is chemistry that focuses on carbon-containing compounds, which includes things like oils and chloroform. To put it mildly, it's dangerous. Many of the compounds used are either explosive, or are placed in potentially explosive situations. Many of the chemicals are directly dangerous all on their own, too.
Rules in that lab were particularly strict, they have to be, because one wrong move could end disastrously. Case in point, one of the experiments involved a type of round bottom flask which were needed to heat a set of chemicals in. Critically, the pressure had to be relieved from the flask. The instructor told us what happened in a prior class when someone had failed to do so: it exploded, and everyone in the lab was lucky none of the glass had cut anyone. That particular person was ejected from the lab for it, and with good reason.
Potion class seems just as dangerous at the end of the day, perhaps more so since unlike chemistry where adding different amounts of ingredients is more likely to cause the reaction to fail, people like Neville appear to be able to produce something, it's just something that's likely to be toxic or have completely unexpected effects. We know from the books that producing an antidote to a blended toxin is a complicated, almost quantum endeavour, I shudder to think what you need to do to properly reverse or mitigate the effects of a poorly blended potion are.
Similarly, Snape isn't being cruel when he docks points for Hermione's successful recovery of Neville's toxic potion, because in actuality what we see here is an academic offense; Neville is essentially presenting someone else's work as his own." (reddit)
Plus, bringing a pet to class always causes problems,specially if it is to the wixen equivalent of a chemistry class.
Granted his bad mood does not in any way excuse or justify his actions towards neville but it does help explain them.
2. Neville’s Boggart
"True, his boggart is Snape.
This does not mean that Snape is truly scary. (assuming Snape is scary because Neville fears him because he is scary is circular reasoning). His fear of Snape is not overwhelming or traumatizing. Neville’s fear is on par with Ron’s fear of spiders (which itself was caused by the twins, who are much scarier), Dean’s fear of hands, etc.
If Snape had been abusive, other students would not have found this funny, and Neville would not have smiled. If the fear had been overwhelming, Neville would not have defeated the boggart on his first try.
Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.” Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful. “Professor Snape... hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?” “Er — yes,” said Neville nervously. “But — I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”
Neville seems more scared of admitting he fears Snape than of Snape. He does not want to confront his grandmother either, probably because, like Snape, she makes him feel inadequate, which is what really scares him. But she should have loved Neville unconditionally and not compared him to his parents, and Snape is his teacher, whose job it is to let him know when he is doing poorly.
Neville defeats his Snape boggart on his first attempt because it’s a trivial fear. Molly, an adult witch and the bad-ass who killed Bellatrix, fails to beat her boggart, in OOTP, because there’s nothing trivial about her fear of losing her husband or her children.
Snape is listed among the meaningless boggarts the kids defeated with ease:
“Did you see me take that banshee?” shouted Seamus. “And the hand!” said Dean, waving his own around. “And Snape in that hat!” “And my mummy!”
This is the textbook definition of a boggart:
Hermione put up her hand. “It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.” “Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin.
The boggart is whatever’s on your mind, not your true deepest, darkest fear (unless Ron is a monster for fearing spiders when just last year, he nearly lost Ginny). POA already introduces a creature that actually makes you relive your worst moments - Dementors. Introducing two creatures that do essentially the same thing is redundant. Snape’s on Neville’s mind because this lesson immediately follows the toad scene.
If that does not convince you: Hermione’s boggart is McGonagall (but actually, failure).
An out-of-universe explanation for Neville’s fear of Snape is that his parents’ story, just like the Cruciatus curse, did not exist at the time of writing the boggart scene. You’d think Draco would tease Neville about it, if it had existed by POA.
This passage is from GOF, after the lesson about unforgivables, in which Neville was clearly thinking about his parents:
“What was that?” said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. “Sounded like a banshee... Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Harry!” “It was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”
This scene shows that Harry is unlike the rest of his classmates because his fears are real and serious. It provides comic relief, because the big meanie is in drag. It’s the beginning of Neville’s arc from someone who fears Snape in Y3 to someone who leads the DA in Y7 and fears nothing. It hints at the Snape-Marauders relationship. It’s used to make Snape’s behavior in the werewolf lesson seem petty and vindictive, to obfuscate the fact that it actually takes place right after Sirius infiltrates the castle for the first time, which is what’s actually bothering him.
In conclusion, the boggart says nothing about Snape, only about Neville.
3. I see no difference
In context:
“And what is all this noise about?” said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, “Explain.” “Potter attacked me, sir —” “We attacked each other at the same time!” Harry shouted. “— and he hit Goyle — look —” Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. “Hospital wing, Goyle,” Snape said calmly. “Malfoy got Hermione!” Ron said. “Look!” He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth — she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape’s back. Snape looked coldly [as opposed to his usual smirk/smile, when he enjoys whatever he’s saying. Also, what’s the difference between being “calm” and being “cold”? Harry is awful at reading people, and at reading Snape in particular] at Hermione, then said, “I see no difference.” Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears.
Snape is demanding an explanation from Malfoy, not the trio. Harry admits that both of them attacked each other. You’d think Snape will never miss an opportunity to punish Harry, who attacked his favorite, right? Wrong. He sends Goyle to the hospital wing calmly, despite Goyle being in pretty bad shape. Ron seems to expect Snape to be helpful, otherwise, why does he direct his attention to Hermione? The Slytherin girls hide their giggling from Snape, as if expecting him to discipline them if he sees them. But he simply says he sees no difference. Why is he acting this way, so out of character? Because at this point, in GOF, the Dark Mark is already growing darker and Voldemort is coming back. Snape will soon have to resume his spying role. He cannot act like he otherwise would have, which is to punish everyone, including the Death Eaters’ children - he is downplaying the whole thing to avoid punishing anyone.
Did he absolutely have to mock Hermione? No. Does he ever do that in any other context? No. It was an easy way to demonstrate his hatred of Harry and supposed disdain for his Muggle-born friend, when he needed to reinforce that image of himself.
Some resentment is understandable: Hermione had set Snape on fire, stolen from him, and slammed him against a wall, knocking him unconscious. That she gets away with a mean-spirited comment indicates that he doesn’t hate her.
He wasn’t even necessarily thinking of her teeth. He might have meant “ISND between what Malfoy did to you, and what Potter did to Goyle”, “ISND between what I told Goyle to do, and what you should do”. We know he can insult her outright when he wants to, and nothing stopped JKR from writing “your teeth look the same as yesterday.”
Maybe he was thinking about how, just a few chapters previously, McGonagall had watched Moody torture Draco, and instead of asking Draco how he was feeling (redundant question, since he was visibly in pain, but it would have been her duty nonetheless), and sending him to the Hospital Wing, she had allowed Moody to drag him away for more punishment, meaning it was she who had set the precedent that students in obvious distress can be dismissed.
She gets over this comment instantly. She even defends Snape later in the same book, and up until he kills Dumbledore.
Snape is definitely an asshole. Here are other bad things he does:
The first Potions lesson: calls Neville an idiot and then accuses Harry of not helping Neville because he wanted to look good. Absurd.
“Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Hilarious, but ouch!
Calls Hermione an insufferable-know-it-all (which she was), following several more civilized attempts to shut her up.
Reading the article about Harry in front of everyone, when the Trio is discussing it in class instead of working, then separating them, ordering Harry to sit next to him, and taking the opportunity to taunt him, culminating in calling Harry a “nasty little boy” and threatening to use Veritaserum on him. This is clearly an empty threat, or Snape would have simply slipped him some without warning him, like Umbridge (not that the legilimens needed to).
Doesn’t punish the Slytherin who hexed Alicia Spinnet before the big Quidditch game (McG before that: “I’ve become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don’t want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time [from the lack of homework] to practice, won’t you?”
In the first occlumency lesson, calls Harry a lamentable potions maker (irrelevant and uncalled for), as well as implicitly calling him stupid: “The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter… or at least, most minds are.” Why should Harry know how legilimency works? He’s never heard of it. Even that can be explained away, though: Voldemort might be spying on the lesson through Harry’s eyes.
When escorting Harry from the train to the school in HBP, he calls Tonk’s Patronus weak, and needles Harry. He accuses Harry of only wanting attention: “I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?” Then he says this: “No cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I’m sure.” Make up your mind, Snape.
When Harry says ghosts are transparent: “Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter.” When Ron points out that this is the most useful way to tell ghosts and inferi apart, because inferi are solid, he says this: “I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room.” Possible explanation: Harry and Ron were publicly discussing Snape’s and Fletcher’s involvement in the Order, so shutting them up was imperative.
That’s 9 things, so with the toad scene and ISND, that’s 11 bad things Snape does to students, in 6 years. Snape is the teacher we spend the most time with, so we get a large enough sample to have an accurate impression of him. All of his transgressions are insults of varying severity, and that’s it.
He’s rude to everyone, not just his inferiors: Tonks and Sirius, fellow Order members, Bellatrix, a “fellow” Death Eater, and even Dumbledore, his superior in every way. Yes, he should have been gentler with students. He is harsh, unkind, strict, impatient, and overbearing, but not bullying or abusive.
His treatment of Harry is truly unfair. He projects the trauma James had caused him onto Harry, which is completely undeserved (but he also protects Harry out of guilt and love for Lily, which is also, strictly speaking, undeserved). Snape doesn’t see Harry for who he is, but even that is not as superficial as it seems, and it’s not entirely the result of Snape’s “immaturity” (i.e., long-term trauma).
PS: When they first make eye-contact, both of them are set on the wrong path because of Quirrell. Harry feels a pain when Snape is looking at him, pulls a face, and continues to stare at Snape. The legilimens might be sensing Voldemort in him. Harry then sasses at him in the very first lesson, and nearly knocks him off his broom.
COS: Harry arrives at school by flying car, launches a seemingly random attack on Slytherins, the appears to be encouraging the snake to attack Justin.
POA: Harry displays recklessness truly worthy of his father, sneaking off to Hogsmeade, throwing snowballs at Malfoy, lying about it
GOF: Harry becomes the center of attention. Snape resents this, as do Ron and Sprout. Twice, the legilimens is looking into Harry’s eyes while Harry is fantasizing about hurting him.
OOTP: Harry violates Snape’s privacy and endangers him, Snape does not know that Harry regrets the whole thing. He also catches Harry at this:
“What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.
This must have been flashback-inducing. What we see as fiercely, Snape sees as vicious.
6. HBP: Harry hexes people at random, including Filch, and worst of all, Snape catches Harry casting Sectumsempra on Draco.
Snape has a disincentive to try with Harry: He knows he will return to Voldemort as a spy. The cover story is, “I thought Voldemort was finished, and that Harry did it.” Becoming buds with Harry would have been inexplicable; becoming buds with Harry and then NOT using that to deliver Harry to Voldemort (i.e., what BCJ has done) - unforgivable. Snape relied heavily on half-truths and misdirection but there was one thing he could be honest with Voldemort about: He hates Harry with a passion. That, ironically, helped him protect Harry.
FWIW, I believe the memory of Snape ranting about Harry, and Dumbledore dismissing Snape and telling him he’s wrong, is included as an apology.
Snape’s three biggest victims are Harry, who names a child after him; Hermione, who doesn’t mind him and even likes him; and Neville, who clearly got over it with ease.
Dumbledore will never fire Snape. He has a free pass to be as cruel as he wants, because he has a cover to keep. Other than the DADA teachers and Hagrid, he is the least experienced, and he is the youngest by far except for, briefly, Lockhard and Lupin. Hogwarts is a site of lifelong trauma for him. Since he is so young, some of his students probably saw or heard about him being publicly humiliated. It also meant that he was initially barely older than some of the students' siblings, so he had to cultivate a very strict persona to control his classroom.
Hence, if you find judging teachers’ conduct in a children’s book a worthwhile pursuit (I don’t think it is, but here we are), Snape should be judged less harshly, not more harshly.
He has no incentive to dial down his cruelty and a wealth of excuses for being cruel, so the cruelty we see in him is the worst he could do, despite being under extreme stress. Yet it is limited to sarcastic remarks, docked points, and mild detentions.
He never lays a hand or a wand on a student, except when pulling Harry out of the Pensieve and then blowing up a jar over his head. Pulling him out was obviously justified - Harry not only violated his privacy and humiliated him, he also risked showing Voldemort classified memories. I believe that if he had wanted the jar to hit Harry, it would have, and he missed on purpose. He never takes advantage of his position over students or his relationship with them, and his punishments are never dangerous.
But he is biased, right?
Not as biased as people think. He has issues with the Trio+Neville, but not other Gryffs, or with students in other houses. He assigns zero house points, including to Slytherins, and his deductions are rarely substantial. He does not bend the rules to get a 1st year student on the Quidditch team, and he does not give 170 last minute points.
Unlike points, grades do matter, and he grades fairly:
According to Lucius in COS, Hermione beat Draco in every test, including potions:
“I would have thought you’d be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” snapped Mr. Malfoy.
Harry expects Snape to grade him fairly, when he tries:
Determined not to give Snape an excuse to fail him this lesson, Harry read and reread every line of instructions on the blackboard at least three times before acting on them.
Harry does fail. This is the Strengthening Solution they work on over two lessons. In the second lesson, Harry isn’t paying attention because he is too busy listening in on Umbridge’s interrogation.
Except the bit where Harry's vial breaks, there is no evidence that he grades unfairly. This was petty, but Hermione is the one who vanished the rest of the potion and prevented him from being able to turn in a second sample.
At the end of the lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it, and took it up to Snape’s desk for marking, feeling that he might at last have scraped an E. He had just turned away when he heard a smashing noise; [...] His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor, and Snape was watching him with a look of gloating pleasure. “Whoops,” he said softly. “Another zero, then, Potter…” Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to his cauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contents had vanished. “I’m sorry!” said Hermione.
This is after Harry views SWM. Assuming Snape did this on purpose (we don’t know), he might have been vindictive or he might have been putting on a show of it because Voldemort was watching through Harry’s eyes.
Snape appears unfair in the sense that when Harry does poorly, he receives poorer grades than he deserves (in Harry’s opinion), but when Harry does well, he expects to be graded fairly (OOTP29). Specifically, Harry complains that Snape grades only him unfairly, and not Ron or Neville, meaning that the issue is with Harry and not with all Gryffindors (OOTP12+15).
Snape’s bias shows only in that he does not punish his own students for their wrongdoings on-page. However, Slytherins wait until Snape’s back is turned to misbehave, and that includes Draco, Snape’s favorite:
In the ISND incident, Pansy and her friends giggle behind Snape’s back.
Draco flashes his Potter Stinks badges when Snape’s attention is directed elsewhere.
Draco taunts Harry with his “remedial potions?!” jeer when Snape isn’t looking.
Right before the toad incident, Draco was pretending to be badly hurt, and pointed out to Snape that Ron (who was sitting next to him and whom Snape had asked to help Draco) wasn’t helping him properly. Draco lowers his voice to admit he pretends to be hurt partly because it means Snape will have someone help him.
They routinely bother to hide their nastiness, because they expect some sort of sanction. McGonagall sends Slytherin transgressors to Snape for punishment, meaning she expects him to handle them.
Snape also assigns Crabbe and Goyle detentions liberally to make sure they “pass their DADA OWLs”. This is also done to thwart Draco’s attempts to kill Dumbledore, but nobody is surprised at this.
Snape is a very effective teacher and the students don’t all hate him
In Y2, Snape teaches students about Polyjuice Potion, which exceeds the curriculum requirements. Umbridge’s objective is to discredit Dumbledore’s hires, but even she recognizes that his class is advanced. Snape constantly explains to the students what they did wrong, even if Harry calls this bullying. His exam pass rate is high: The trio earns two Es and one O even though Harry and Ron don’t care about the subject. Snape is an effective, albeit very imperfect, teacher (Harry, Ron, and Hermione all earn the same grade in Potions as they do in Charms and Transfiguration; Neville can be deduced to have passed his Potions and his Transfiguration OWLs with an A).
He only admits O students into his NEWT potions class, whereas Minerva is “very pleased” with Harry’s E. This is not as restrictive as it sounds:
This is the composition of Harry’s 6th year Potions class:
The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws. This left Harry, Ron, and Hermione to share a table with Ernie.
Everyone but Harry and Ron had earned Os, because they all had the textbook already. That’s at least 10 out of 28* students in Harry’s year who got the highest grade.
*There is some debate about the size of Harry’s year. I’m only counting students who have names.
25 out of 25 eligible students take DADA with Snape in their 6th year:
”Before we start, I want your dementor essays,” said Snape, waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk.
The missing ones are Crabbe and Goyle, who failed their OWLs, and Abbott, who left.
Neville definitely took DADA with Snape:
Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to repel Neville’s muttered JellyLegs Jinx, a feat that would surely have earned her twenty points for Gryffindor from any reasonable teacher.
Harry whines, but note that Snape doesn’t take points from Neville for muttering, either.
That’s how unbiased students talk about Snape:
“Harry,” Ernie said [...], “didn’t get a chance to speak in Defense Against The Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought.”
Safety is his top priority
Snape:
stops Ron from hitting Draco
Upon hearing that a student had been taken into the Chamber - he was distressed enough that he had to grab a chair "very hard" (even though his Slytherins alone were not in danger)
is the one who nags Lupin to drink his potion in POA, and not the other way around
runs into the Shrieking Shack to face Black and Lupin on the full moon to save the trio
when the egg starts screaming in GOF, runs toward the sound of someone screaming as though they’re being tortured in the middle of the night
Supplies Umbridge with fake Veritaserum
Orders Harry to release Neville when he thinks Ron and Harry are fighting him
Saves Neville from being choked by Crabbe
Runs toward a woman screaming in the middle of an occlumency lesson (it’s Trelawney getting fired)
Makes an unbreakable vow to protect Draco, keeps it
Runs toward Myrtle’s cries of a murder, not knowing who was hurt or how and what danger he might face there
Steers Hermione+Luna out of harm’s way before the Astronomy Tower battle
After killing Dumbledore, he stops Death Eaters from Cruciating Harry when Harry confronts him. Harry tries to curse Snape, including an attempt at Crucio, yet Snape risks breaking cover to spare Harry pain
He is the one Dumbledore assigned to keep students safe during DH. Snape did not have to stay at Hogwarts at that point, both of them knew Harry won't be attending next year, so this had nothing to do with the original mission, Dumbledore just trusted him this much, and rightly so - nobody is reported to have died during Snape's year as headmaster, which is more than can be said for Dumbledore. Within this, he Sent the silver trio to Hagrid as a form of "punishment" for trying to steal the sword.
Only in one of these cases is Harry even in the picture (that Snape knows of before springing into action). I omitted things like saving Harry in PS. In one case, he leaves Harry to go see what’s going on. Also not included are multiple instances of Snape saving students at no risk to himself or to his cover, by brewing potions or using his Dark Arts expertise (COS, HBP). His attempts to save adult characters are not included either.
“Her [the Doe Patronus’s] presence had meant safety.” (r/harrypotter on reddit)
Tumblr media
Note: the writer of this post said it the the title that Snape is the best teacher at Hogwarts, wich i frankly do not agree with as, despite being a master in his subjects and prioritizing safety, Snape comes of as unaproachable to his students wich causes strugling students like Neville to go to peers for help instead of him, wich is far from ideal.
140 notes · View notes
ephie-om · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Starting to realize how much I like writing chaotic MC ':)
Day 24: RAD
“The halls of the royal academy have seen thousands of demons’ footsteps over the centuries. Discoveries have been made in these rooms which revolutionized magic as we know it. And not just magic; the sciences of biology, persuasion, and chemistry all have a home here.” You nod along to Barbatos’ explanation as he guides you through the labyrinthian academy grounds. The vaulted ceilings make you dizzy if you look up for too long, and you try to focus on keeping pace with Barbatos’ efficient strides. “You will be taking a set of introductory courses specifically selected for a non-demon student. Your professors have all been notified of your status as an exchange student with a one-year tenure and will adjust their lesson plans accordingly. You will have one-on-one training with certain professors before the year properly begins to provide you with a foundation of basic Devildom subjects that you will use throughout your time here.” Your eyes have already started to glaze over.
As far as you were concerned, you were pulled from your boring human life by the most powerful demons in existence. You live with the Avatars of the seven deadly sins, who you’re quickly learning can be bribed to do your chores. You’re going to do everything you can to make the absolute most out of this year, and school is looking like the last thing on your list right now. You try to pay attention to Barbatos again, but he’s started talking about the demons whose paintings line the front entrance and you find yourself not caring at all.
Your staunch indifference to your studies serves to make you yet another thorn in Lucifer’s side. You aren’t directly opposed to the idea of paying attention to your classes, you just end up finding more interesting things. Like an incantation to make Mammon speak without his accent for an hour, or the myriad of ways to make something explode into sparkly magical smoke . You’re sure you get disapproving looks from your centuries-old professors, but you’re too busy trying out new things to notice them. You’ve singlehandedly caused at least two classrooms to temporarily close for repairs (the third one could arguably also be Satan’s fault). Your textbooks have to be replaced almost on a weekly basis due to water damage, fire damage, lava damage, mastication, vanishing, or transmutation.
To the chagrin of everyone else, the problem only worsens when Solomon officially takes you on as his apprentice. Now you have the tools of a wizard to sow chaos on academy time instead of just your pact magic. On your first day, he lets you choose which basic spells to learn first, and without blinking, you choose every single one that sounds like fun. He chuckles knowingly, but you take solace in the fact that at least one person here finds you predictable.
As it turns out, Solomon’s lessons are much more engaging than those at RAD. Maybe it has something to do with the connection you two have as humans, or maybe you just learn better when your teacher is just as insane as you. You start to learn all the principles you’ve been unknowingly applying to your little experiments in class, and you revel in the way Solomon’s eyes shine when you finish a sentence for him. You’ve actually learned quite a lot from your class activities.
The following weeks, your destruction is a little more controlled. You think you catch one or two of your professors letting out a sigh of relief as you catch a runaway spell for the first time instead of sitting back and watching it go. You and Mammon are still inseparable in class, but now you understand why you get the results you do. He laughs under his breath when you mutter to yourself just like Solomon, eyes trained on a deep purple flower in your potions class. You look back and forth between the petals and the chalkboard at the front of the room, frown deepening.
The board says that the ingredient should dampen the water-summoning effect from the other reagents to create a controlled stream, but you swear you remember that it acts as an enhancer. You open your mouth to ask the professor if he’s sure he copied down the instructions, but the glare he shoots you makes you close it again. You shrug indifferently, excited to see the result either way. Sure enough, as the crushed petals hit the bubbling mixture, a rush of water shoots straight up from the murky liquid, and demons around the room cry out as their uniforms are instantly drenched. The force of the flow threatens to rip off the ceiling, and your professor can barely shout instructions over the sheer noise of the thing. You laugh to yourself even as you slog out of the room, spilling water over the floor in the hallway.
You recount the story dramatically over dinner that night, with Mammon adding in colorful details you must have missed. Satan laments how a professor, of all demons, could have made such a simple mistake. Lucifer listens silently, but you notice the glint of blue in his eyes as you speak. You text Solomon to fill him in on anything he hadn’t already heard, and he sends you several smiley stickers in a row. Bit by bit, the demons at RAD start to take you a little more seriously. Ever so slowly, you actually start to complete your homework, and the RAD you knew begins to change.
Not physically, of course. It’s still suffocating and stuffy and old. The imposing portraits of important Devildom figures in education still stare down at you from their massive frames in the lobby, following you with their dark eyes. You still get scolded for doodling sigils of your own creation instead of drawing out your arithmancy matrices. Barbatos still stalks you from behind random columns (no you can’t actually prove that, but some part of you can feel his beady eyes on you).
But you start to understand what the vision for this academy is. Like it or not, you’ve learned a lot in your time here, and its resources are indispensable to your work. You may not do serious wizard things like Solomon, but you’re definitely doing something that wizards do, which is doing magic for the hell of it. You surprise your housemates with fun little spells. You’ve learned one to reinforce Beel’s lunchbox at the seams, preserving it from the demon who gets a bit too distracted to find the zipper on the first try. You still blast off the occasional fireball to not let anyone’s nerves get too settled, but you’re finally starting to feel like RAD could be a place for you too.
40 notes · View notes