#my black girl magic syllabus

[myblackgirlmagicsyllabus]

Domino Day (2024 TV series created and written by Lauren Sequeira)

[carewyncromwell]

“It's just like déjà vu, me standin' here with you, So I'll be holdin' my own breath -- Could this be the end? Is it that moment when I find the one that I'll spend forever with?”

~“Gotta Be Somebody” by Nickelback

x~x~x~x

In 1941, the vampire called Bat Varney was murdered by the dark wizard Grindelwald for aiding the resistance movement organized by Ministries across Europe. Bat left behind many friends, including Danny Gibson @catohphm​​ and the Selwyn-Ellison family @that-ravenpuff-witch​​​​ -- but the person most devastated by Bat’s death was his most constant companion, Atticus “Grim” Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier​​​. Never in his life had the retired professor considered that he’d be the last one standing, out of the two of them -- and in his last days on earth, just before he died peacefully in his sleep at a ripe old age, all that he wished was that he might see his first true friend again. Little did Atticus know that -- in his last moments alive -- Bat had made a similar wish...praying that maybe he and his mate Grim could meet again someday, somewhere where Bat didn’t have to regulate how much or how long they touched...maybe even with his real face...as Robert.

About a decade after Professor Grimsley’s death, the only son of a well-respected Pureblood family started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and was Sorted into Ravenclaw house. The boy -- appropriately enough also named Atticus -- wasn’t particularly popular at school, given his hyper-focus on his academics and on satisfying the high standards of his father. Not only was Atticus expected to bring his family honor and esteem, but he also had a rival at Hogwarts who he was expected to “outdo.”

Bartholomew “Barty” Gilbert (pronounced “JO-behr”) was the only son of an up-and-coming Pureblood family who’d just emigrated from France and made a lot of money investing in robe shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade alike. He was also now a Gryffindor in Atticus’s year, and Atticus’s father was very firm that Atticus not let the boy surpass him in anything. Although Atticus normally obeyed his father with a certain degree of reluctance, in this case, he didn’t like the thought of losing to Barty Gilbert either. Not because the Gryffindor wasn’t pleasant -- no, in fact, he was almost too pleasant...too amiable, too inoffensive. And that made it so that even though Barty got away with doing whatever he wanted without worrying about his family’s expectations, it only served to earn him more friends and admirers. Even before that, though, when Atticus had met Barty in passing before school, he still couldn’t help but dislike the other boy. There was just something off about him -- something Atticus could hardly put into words. It was like whenever Barty opened his mouth, he sounded wrong -- whenever he smiled, it looked wrong...even his eyes weren’t as they should be. There was something almost familiar about Barty’s auburn hair, face, and height -- and yet something was wrong. And it just made Atticus upset for a reason he couldn’t really explain. It reminded him of those times, when he was a very small child, when his mother would try to comfort him after he woke up sobbing and could hardly explain why. Something about someone with red eyes squeezing his shoulders, tears streaming down his face and laughing like his heart was breaking...

So Atticus was determined to throw himself into his studies and do everything expected of him. Just because Gryffindor Golden Boy Barty Gilbert refused to do things the right way didn’t mean he shouldn’t -- and Atticus knew karma would eventually go his way in the end, if he put in the proper work. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still sometimes feel somewhat resentful every time Barty Gilbert waved to him in the hall, his two best friends at his side. One of them was the most popular girl in their year (of course), another Pureblood witch named Cecelia “Ceci” Crouch -- the other was one of Atticus’s own dormmates, a poor Muggle-born boy who in third year had become Ravenclaw’s Star Chaser named Robert Bellamy. Despite sleeping in the same dorm for five years, Atticus and Robert had really never talked -- Atticus was focused almost exclusively on his studies, of course, but even Robert seemed actively disinterested in talking to Atticus. Perhaps it was because of how much Atticus kept sticking his nose up at his best friend Barty -- perhaps it was because of how much of a stick-in-the-mud Atticus was -- or perhaps it was for a reason Robert couldn’t quite put into words, the same way Atticus couldn’t completely explain his instant dislike of Barty.

One day at the beginning of fifth year, however, Atticus and Robert were forced to engage with each other when Professor Binns inexplicably decided to actually assign a paired homework assignment. (A possible result of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore casually reminding the History of Magic professor of a similar assignment he’d assigned his OWL class back in the days when he was still alive.) Although Binns of course didn’t remember any of his students’ names, he nonetheless paired Robert with Atticus. Neither of the Ravenclaws was particularly pleased, but none of them was the type to actively argue or complain.

After class, Atticus approached Robert outside the History of Magic classroom. Robert told Barty to go on ahead to the Great Hall and that he’d catch up. Once Barty was gone, Atticus uncomfortably questioned Robert about when they could meet to work on their oral report on the Witch Hunts of the 14th century.

Robert frowned slightly, his well-toned arms crossing casually over his chest.

“Hogsmeade weekend starts tomorrow,” he said placidly. “You occupied then?”

Unlike the rest of his classmates, Robert wore his bronze-trimmed blue Quidditch robes over his disheveled uniform, instead of his usual black school robes. Atticus couldn’t help but wonder if Barty Gilbert’s buddy just liked to remind everyone that he was one of Ravenclaw’s Chasers.

Pushing this faintly condescending thought aside, Atticus shook his head. “No -- I’m available.”

“Good. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks and we can talk there.”

He turned on his heel as if to go. Atticus couldn’t help but sputter and he quickly rushed in front of the other Ravenclaw to stop him from walking away.

“What is there to talk about? We need to get started right away!”

Robert raised his eyebrows. “Tomorrow isn’t soon enough for you?”

“The project’s due on Monday,” said Atticus seriously. “We’ll need to spend a good deal of time at the library, if we want to be prepared -- ”

“No need,” said Robert with a shrug. “I already know everything we need to know.”

Atticus couldn’t keep himself from quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Oh really? Robert Bellamy, slacker jock who always dozes off in History of Magic, knows enough about the Witch Hunts of the 14th century to get us an O on our oral report? Somehow I doubt that.”

Amazingly Robert didn’t react with anger -- instead his black eyes turned very cool.

“The Witch Hunts really can’t be narrowed down to just the 14th century,” he said in a very level, matter-of-fact voice appropriate to a professor. “Not only did the ‘witch hysteria’ phenomenon last well into the 18th century, until the Age of Enlightenment, but there was a lot of set-up beforehand that laid the groundwork for it. Witchcraft, specifically black magic, was considered illegal even in ancient times -- the Romans considered it a capital offense. And of course one can’t ignore how early Christians demonized pagan beliefs by associating them with witchcraft, hence why images of the Devil came to embody traits associated with the nature god Pan. The Witch Hunts of the 14th century largely came about because a bunch of Muggles got their knickers in a twist about an increased interest in necromancy and herbal remedies among the poor, spurred on by the printing and circulation of older Islamic texts. The fact that many of those people who had the most use for those herbal remedies were women -- frequently mid-wives -- scared the church as well, of course, given the sexism of the time. And of course when bad things happen and there’s no explanation for it, people love to find a scapegoat. Add a text like the Malleus Malificarum that tells the terrified masses all of their problems are the fault of evil witches to the mix, and Incendio -- you’ve got yourself a bonfire.”

Atticus was completely sideswiped. He caught himself staring with his mouth open, and quickly closed it.

“That...well...”

He felt very sheepish. His ears burned -- his mother would’ve been scolding him if she were there, for jumping to conclusions like that.

“...That’s really impressive,” Atticus said self-consciously. “Forgive me, I...I was very rude, just then.”

He brushed a loose piece of his dark brown bangs out of his eyes.

“...How did you even know all that? I don’t recall Professor Binns ever saying -- ”

“I doubt he did,” said Robert. Once again he didn’t seem the least bit offended by what Atticus had said and was currently grinning cheekily. “I got my hands on the fifth year History of Magic syllabus from an older student before term started. I went to the Muggle library and borrowed a whole stack of books about the Witch Hunts so I could read them over the summer.”

Atticus blinked. “Muggle books? But -- but wouldn’t that information be incomplete?”

“In some ways, yes. But honestly, magical history isn’t much better that way -- it leaves plenty of stuff out.”

“I suppose it does -- but Professor Binns expects you to know what he teaches too. That’s why he does those lectures.”

“And puts the whole class to sleep,” said Robert with a snort of laughter.

“That’s beside the point,” said Atticus firmly. “It’s good that you studied the material so thoroughly -- very admirable, in fact -- but there is a right way to do things, and falling asleep in class when your professor’s trying to teach you will only make it harder for you to get top marks.”

Robert shrugged. “Guess I don’t see the need to regurgitate my professor’s lessons like a parrot. And how do you know I don’t already get top marks? I don’t remember you ever asking to see my grades.”

Atticus faltered. “Well -- it’s just -- I never see you study.”

“Probably because you never leave the library,” said Robert with a rather mischievous smile.

The words were an unpleasant barb in the corner of Atticus’s chest, and his eyes narrowed to hide the slight hurt he felt. Noticing the shift in the other boy’s expression, Robert immediately put down all trace of humor.

“Only joking,” he said defensively. “Crimey...you really are too grim for your own good...”

As soon as the sentence had left Robert’s mouth, there was a strange, silent ping that seemed to ripple through both young men’s ears. The word “grim” had hit Atticus in the heart stronger than anything else Robert had said. The young Pureblood had stiffened sharply, and his expression tensed further when he realized that Robert too seemed to have suddenly gone oddly pale.

Did...did the word affect him too? Did he also find it so strangely, frustratingly, achingly familiar? Why?

The two stared at each other, both looking incredibly disconcerted. Then Robert, stuffing a hand into his pocket, quickly strolled past Atticus.

“...I’d better go catch up with Barty,” he muttered. His voice sounded oddly calm to Atticus’s ears -- almost evasively so. “Is tomorrow at noon okay?”

Atticus glanced over his shoulder to look at Robert’s retreating back.

“...Yes,” he said quietly.

Robert didn’t turn back around.

“Three Broomsticks?”

“All right.”

“Good. ...Bring some books from the library, if you want. I’m sure Madame Pince will have some suggestions I haven’t read yet. Just don’t tell her we’ll be at the Three Broomsticks -- poor thing would probably throw a fit if we spilled butterbeer on her books...”

With that, the Ravenclaw Chaser departed down the hall without looking at Atticus again.

Atticus didn’t move from his spot in the hall for a while afterward, unable to completely shake the heavy, invisible weight that had settled down on top of his heart.

He’dd only ever felt such a strange, irrational kind of déjà vu around Barty Gilbert before, but this kind...this kind was different, somehow. The feeling that accompanied Barty Gilbert made Atticus feel irritated for no reason at all. This one accompanying Robert Bellamy...it was cold, and yet also so soft at the same time -- like the feeling one has when they hear a beautiful, sad song...or when they wake up sobbing from a dream where someone is squeezing their shoulders, while tears stream down their brokenly laughing face...

[blkgirlsinthefuture]

Welcome to Black Women & Girls: Future and Digital. 

This is the class of my daydreams and the work of my heart. Fantasy and digital culture, to me, felt interwoven in important ways, but also was established in a way that excluded my Black girlhood growing up. Fortunately, grad school introduced me to a number of (majority) Black women writers, scholars, thinkers, artists, etc. who did swift corrective work on my mind, and now I have the the urgent responsibility to pass along what I’ve learned to those who, like me, probably need it to make sense of themselves and their place in the world.

This blog will be the collective analyses and questions and various engagements of the students in my class (and perhaps, on occasion, me) with the material, both art and scholarship, and with each other. 

My first lesson/project for the students was one that challenged them to consider the ways they already think about Black girlhood, fantasy, and technology, before we even begin our work, by way of contributing at least one song to a thematic class playlist. The goal was to get their intellectual juices flowing while also beginning to feel out what collaboration in this digital space might look like. 

It was meant to be an introductory exercise, that would result in a near instantaneous shareable product, as opposed to this blog which will be a semester long project. It turned into a living archive where they can continue to submit songs throughout the semester, a digital product that has already challenged me three days into the semester. 

It has much of what you might expect of a thematic Black girlhood + fantasy + digital culture playlist: lots of Janelle Monáe, lots of Beyoncé, with a touch of Erykah Badu. But my students have introduced me to a variety of artists: a neo-soul/hip-hop duo out of the DMV, OSHUN; British rapper, Little Simz; Nigerian singer, Tiwa Savage. The thread that connect these musicians for me in this context is that they are representative of the wider African diaspora— and the discovery had me rethinking my syllabus. I tried to cast a wide net on diversity of authors, musicians and creators, but it could use a little bit more of a global perspective. My syllabus skews enormously American. 

I loved this assignment because it reaffirmed for me the beauty of our wide ranging experiences, perspectives and positionalities. 

It’s absolutely wonderful that this playlist is useable for the students to share with their peers, and me with my colleagues, but every time I play it, it reminds me of my duty to honor how each of my students are situated. 

Plus: as a former musician that traded my ivories for monographs, having an excuse to think critically about music again is such a joyful experience for me.

So from now through May, expect weekly contributions from students, who will be commenting on various texts that we cover in class as we do some collective learning and work on what it means to think about Black girlhood and magic in a contemporary moment that is defined by the digital.

—Professor Stringfield 

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 11/18

not my gif. Gellert

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

--

Learning the theory behind a spell was always a tedious work, she’d been a student and knew the feeling. However, it was a lesson that needed to be taught despite everyone’s protests.

She realised that she had created an escape refugee with her classes, allowing the children to do and say things they weren’t allowed with other professors. Durmstrang itself was a strict school, and she noticed how the students’ rigid discipline relaxed a bit in her classroom. Sometimes it could get out of control.

When she finished drawing the movement of the fire-making spell, she turned around to find several children leaning on their elbows. One boy next to the window was sleeping and a group in the back was sending each other flying pieces of paper.

She looked at the Flitterbloom on the desk, and an idea started to form in her head. She moved her wand slightly, and the plant started to grow uncontrollably; the roots broke the vase and its vines squirmed their way down the desk, growing with every second.

“Professor Williams!” At a girl’s desperate scream, other students started to get nervous as well, but when they saw that Kate had her arms crossed and didn’t intend to help, panic settled among them.

Some students got up and ran to the door, but Kate closed it from where she stood.

“There’s a situation that requires everyone’s attention! Imagine this happened in your house. Would you run out the door and leave? Let it destroy your home and your belongings? Imagine it’s a Devil’s Snare.”

The bush kept growing, now moving to the windows. 

“Are you going to let it escape to the castle?”

One of the girls that sat on the first row got up and quickly closed the window, avoiding a gigantic root behind her. Somebody shouted ‘Colloportus!’ And the windows of the other side of the room closed hermetically as well.

“Well done, you saved the school, now you need to save yourselves! And I told you how!” Kate jumped over a vine. The students started climbing on their desks.

She saw how Micael Angelov ended up with his back pressed against a wall, she saw him looking at her and then the blackboard and proceeded to shout ‘Incendio!’.

Part of the plant burst into flames, consuming the vine and part of the root, giving hope to some students were near him.

In a moment, all of them attempted to cast the spell, some of them succeeding quite masterfully.

Kate approached a girl and tilted her wrist to the left, making a flame shoot out of her wand with such a force that she stumbled. “Perfect!”

They continued to do so until Kate decided to stop to correct some errors after returning the plant to its original state.

She let her students finish copying what was written on the board and started handing out a roll of parchment to each one.

“These are copies of an article I found in a gardening magazine in the library. I want you to read it and write down any mistakes you find. In the greenhouse we will follow the instructions the article proposes to transplant Flitterbottoms and see why it is wrong”.

When the class ended Kate began to hang up the drawings of the different plants and flowers that she had asked them to make while the children collected their belongings. She could not help but overhear a conversation taking place near the door.

“First years never take part…” said a girl. Kate looked at her and took the piece of spellotape out of her mouth.

“And why is that? Everybody can participate.” The girl just shrugged.

“My brother says that with the knowledge of the other students, first years don’t have a chance of winning.”

“The question is: would you like to take part?” There was silence for a moment, but soft murmurs started to fill the place. Kate could hear some ‘It would be fun’ or ‘nice’ among some ‘no’ and puffs.

“Don’t underestimate plants. Look around you, I bet we can find something that could fit the theme of the contest. If you want to write your name on a piece of parchment and I will inscribe you.”

Micael Angelov said goodbye with a shy smile and disappeared out the door.

Kate had not seen any marks or bruises on Micael’s face since that day in the quidditch pitch, so she was partially relieved, and he seemed more comfortable as the weeks went by. They were getting better, and so was she.

As she finished hanging up the drawings, and with all the students already out of class, sounds of commotion were heard outside the room.

She looked out the window and saw Astrid Rhode’s worried face as she tried to disperse the crowd that had gathered outside.

Rhode turned and their gazes met; she motioned to Kate to come closer, and she obeyed.

“Now what has happened?” she sighed.

Astrid pointed to the column of Grindelwald’s mark, which now looked very different from when she first saw it: a crack ran halfway down the length of the pillar and was blackened at the bottom. She touched the broken stone with her middle finger and she perceived a buzzing sensation 

“It was done with magic...”

Rhode was too busy trying to get the students to disperse to respond, but Kate didn’t need confirmation. Something inside her was telling her that it wasn’t a student prank or an accident.

 --

She kept her diary inside her cape and took Dumbledore’s map with her to inspect on her way to the library. Each step was a disappointment after another as nothing happened.

When she arrived, she kept it next to her little notebook. She went to ring the bell but stopped before doing so. She had bothered Corentin enough.

She went upstairs floor by floor, read all the posters in the different sections, but could not find what she was looking for.

A hunch had led her to think that perhaps she should give the Grindelwald affair a chance and, she hoped, she could find documents that would give her a clue. For the moment, her efforts were not fruitful. She was inspecting the third floor when a black cloud appeared beside her and evaporated, showing Corentin.

Kate gave a start and took her hand to her heart.

“Don’t do that!” The librarian just smiled.

“Why haven’t you called me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense. Look at you, you’re like a headless chicken all over the place, messing up my library.”

Kate huffed a laugh.

“Did you hear what happened?”

“On the mark? Yes.”

“I need access to the Durmstrang history. Do you have...files or something?”

“What are you getting at?” Kate shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

Corentin suggested that she accompany him and together they went up the last set of stairs.. At the top, more books covered the walls.

He approached the end of the room and after airing his wand in an intricate manner, the block of shelves fell away from the wall, revealing scrolls of parchment and folders.

“Here you will find archives from 1894 to 1899. As well as all the editions of the DD.” Seeing Kate’s face, he corrected, “the Daily Durmstrang, the newspaper. Karkarov removed it from the curriculum. But I believe that Rhode wants to implement it again. If you want to find something about Deathly Hallows, this is not the place.”

“No. I want to know more about him. I think... I don’t know... maybe it’s stupid. I don’t even know what I want to find.”

“Then get comfortable. You’ll be here for a while.”

And Corentin was not wrong.

For weeks she went to the library to review those documents. She didn’t go every afternoon, just as her schedule allowed. Planning classes, preparing activities for the greenhouse, correcting homework and reading the syllabus she was going to teach took up most of his time.

But the afternoons she had free time she used to go up to the top floor of the library and sit at the small table in the corner to examine all the scrolls she could find.

She read entries from the Daily Durmstrang newspaper, a very interesting activity that she would have liked to see implemented at Hogwarts, about changes in teachers, subjects, quidditch events and about AEDA. At the moment, Grindelwald did not appear. She also found employment contracts, building renovation orders, and dance brochures.

On one of her trips to the library, she thought she saw Mer Yankelevich and Libor Marek talking alone in a corridor. This reminded her of the day Flavia Hodges left Durmstrang.

Three guards escorted her to the carriage. Kate watched the scene from the bridge with her arms crossed as Rhode said goodbye.

The rest of the teachers were also there, and although the students were not allowed to come near, Kate knew that their faces were glued to the windows.

Rhode gestured to her and Kate crossed the bridge to get closer.

“I think I’ve forgotten the potions you gave me.” said Flavia with a small mouth. Kate nodded and promised to come back as soon as possible with the bottles.

The castle was empty and very quiet, which allowed her to run to the hospital wing. On the way back, she heard footsteps coming from the hall and the main door closing.

When she identified Libor Marek’s voice, she stopped short before turning the corner.

“You haven’t left me alone since Karkarov left. Don’t try to drag me into your affairs, they don’t interest me.”

“But...”

Impatient to find out who he was talking to, she kept walking, looking at the ground and pressing Flavia’s potions to her chest, pretending not to hear anything. Yankelevich and Marek were shocked to see her pass by. She looked up and asked innocently,

“The carriage hasn’t left yet, has it?”

The charms teacher hid her concern with a smile.

“No, I think they’re waiting for you.”

“Ah, perfect.” She sighed in supposed relief and without bothering to look for her wand, he quickly aired a hand to open the door and leave the castle.

Distracted by the memory, she didn’t hear Corentin approaching from behind until she saw his shadow on the table.

She jumped up as she turned and saw his slim figure in a black suit.

“Will you stop that?”

Corentin ignored her and read the documents on the table over her shoulder.

“Have you found anything of interest?”

“Maybe now I’ll start doing it. These folders are from his last year here.”

“If you need anything, you know where I am.” Just as she thanked him, he transformed himself into his bat form and flew to the chandelier.

Kate put her head in one hand and with the other she squeezed one side of her belly, where it hurt. Forgetting to take the potion on the first day of her period was a serious mistake.

Tired of searching, she momentarily forgot the purpose of all the trips to the library and was reading an article in the Daily Durmstrang about the creatures that lived in the lakes. She turned the page lazily, wanting to finish the seemingly endless article.

As she laid eyes on the next page, she jumped up.

Gellert Grindelwald: king of the AEDA, by J.M. Nilsen. June 1899

Grindelwald, a sixth-grade student, turned up hopefully at Europe’s most famous dark arts competition, not knowing what its outcome would be.

The first of his class, hardworking and tenacious, are some of the many qualities that have led him to this glorious victory. The question is, which project did he do that will undoubtedly win the competition?

This year’s theme for the AEDA was challenging and confusing to many: Bottled Death.

After much thought, this student decided to take the meaning of this challenge literally. And that is that he has managed, for the first time in history, to catch a real obscurus in a glass container.

No one knows exactly where he has found such a creature, and it has been a project that has been very frowned upon.

However, despite the complaints and unanswered questions from the jury, they have been forced to give him first place, for the most spectacular feat seen in Durmstrang’s history.

Wizards and witches from all over the world have been impressed with the young Grindelwald mentioning that not only is he destined to do incredible things but that Durmstrang’s reputation will remain high for centuries.

It is rumoured that Grindelwald has been offered several deals from different magic ministries, but the truth of these facts is not known at this time.

In any case, Gellert still has a promising year at school ahead of him. What other wonders will he be able to achieve?

Kate’s eyes were wide open. At the end of the article there was a photo with a smiling Grindelwald in the trophy room, holding his cup tightly and looking proudly at his creation, displayed in a glass case. The light from various flashes moved in the photograph.

She blinked several times and looked out the small window on her right, hoping that the piece of sky in sight would give her the ability to connect points in her mind.

She stood up and frantically searched the archives from the previous year, where she thought she remembered seeing a particularly striking document. Triumphant, she found the scroll she was looking for and unrolled it.

Erik Aaberg missing.

The poster also had a photo attached.

She shook her head and returned to the 1899 documentation and continued to turn the pages of the newspaper.

Accident in the trophy room

A new subject!

Uniforms: practicality or oppression?

A student appears at the lake: a near-death experience.

Grindelwald expelled.

“Oh, Merlin...” she murmured. She collapsed on the chair and looked at the papers scattered on the table. She ran her hand over her mouth and stroked her lip with a finger, deep in thought.

She was reading the last of the articles when Corentin appeared again.

“You look worried.”

“Corentin...” she extended the text about the obscurus to him. “Do you remember this?”

Corentin flashed his eyes across the paper, reading the article, and made an “o” shape with his mouth and then frowned.

“I can’t believe I’ve forgotten this... Erik Aaberg I think...” Kate passed him the missing person sign and Corentin nodded.

“Corentin... he almost killed him...”

“I know.”

“It’s hard to think a child could do something like that... because he was really a child. He did more things like this, didn’t he?”

“He sure did...” Kate leaned back in her chair and looked at Corentin as he read.

A twitch of the eyes. A lick across her lips. A raise of the brow.

“Where?”

“Where what?” Asked a confused Corentin.

“Well, he had to do all the experiments somewhere, didn’t he? In his bedroom?”

The librarian left the paper in his hand on the table before shaking his head.

“I don’t think so, no. But...” Without another word, he turned around and Kate saw him heading across the room, opened a shelf and searched with her index finger until she found what she was looking for. He returned with a very heavy book.

“They used to keep a record of classroom loans, they stopped doing that in 1940, don’t ask me why.”

He put the book on the table and before Kate could protest that she wouldn’t spend another week rummaging through the archives, Corentin opened it and waved his wand.

“Grindelwald.” He said to the book.

The cover opened, and the pages were flipped frantically until it was closed again. Corentin tried “Gellert” but the book did the same.

“He didn’t use any class.”

“How can we be sure of this? He tried to kill a boy, I think he would also be capable of not signing up for a record book.” Corentin sighed and looked at her not knowing what to say.

“I have... I have the feeling that it is important to know where he was doing it.”

“Why should it be?”

“I don’t know. It’s a very strange feeling... I’m sure that’s the way it is, but I can’t make sense of it.”

He looked at her carefully for a moment. 

“The times I’ve ignored my instincts, I didn’t get the play right.” He said at last. “But answer me this...”

“Sure.”

“What’s the use of tracking Gellert?”

Kate looked at both sides but, although they were alone on that floor, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

She took out her diary and opened it at the end, tore out the last page and put it back. With a quill from the desk, she wrote, "

There is a Death Eater in Durmstrang

Corentin read it, and after raising his eyebrows, he shook his wand again and the paper broke into a thousand pieces in the air.

“That’s why you’re here.” It wasn’t a question, but Kate nodded anyway.

“I can’t tell you anything else.”

“I don’t need to know.” After a pause, she added, “Do you think it has anything to do with Gellert?”

A shadow crossed her expression. Voldemort would return, it wasn’t unreasonable to think the other most powerful dark wizard in history might be involved. That he was in prison would not be an obstacle.

“It could be, yes.”

“There are tunnels in the castle.” He said out of the blue. “It’s an extensive network that Nerida Vulcanova built in case it was necessary to protect the children. It’s possible... there may also be secret rooms.”

Kate jumped up.

“There are maps? Plans of the castle?”

“Yes, there’s only one problem: only Nerida Vulcanova knows how to read them.”

After tidying up and thanking Corentin for all his help, she left the library with a twinkle in her eye.

The search for Voldemort’s follower was proving frustrating and with no results. With this new goal in mind, she exchanged one dark wizard for another, but deep inside she knew that there was a connection that, for the moment, she was unable to see.

As she walked through the lonely corridors of the castle, she reached into her inner pocket to pull out her wand and give a little more light to her path.

In the attempt, all the papers she had there, flew away and were left scattered on the floor.

“Merlin...” She bent down to pick them up and panicked when she couldn’t find Dumbledore’s supposed map. She sighed with relief when she saw it a little further down on the ground.

Something caught her attention.

Kate picked up the map and saw that it had a small black line drawn on it and she could put her hand in the fire swearing that it wasn’t there before.

When she turned to go to her bedroom, the line disappeared as if someone was erasing it from the paper. She stopped short and stared at the scroll, then around her and back at the map again.

She took a step back, and when a dot appeared on the paper, her heart began to race. She turned around again and moved forward a bit more, watching with enormous eyes as a black line drew itself with each step. When she stopped, so did the line.

However, something curious happened next; as she continued walking, the line did not move.  She changed course and turned into a corridor. The line twisted with her.

Kate continued along the ground floor of the castle for a while, trying every turn and every hallway until she reached the main gate. She looked at the map again, at some point the line of the path she had left behind had erased. Trying, unsuccessfully, not to make a sound when she opened the door, she slipped outside.

The night was quiet; the wind whistled through the trees and Kate’s footsteps echoed as she walked.

She turned left towards the greenhouse, but nothing happened; she took the path on the right, which led to the back of the castle, but the map remained empty.

As she walked towards the bridge, the line appeared and as she stared at the path that went into the darkness of the forest; she remembered the other paper that Dumbledore had sent her,

Trust him in the woods.

--

[Part 12]

Tag List:  @eldritchscreech​ @meteora-fc​ @cazreadsstuff​ @the-navistar-carol​

[txtdiaries]

Axiom Academy for Extraordinary Boys - Chapter One

SUMMARY | Axiom Academy for Extraordinary Boys — one of the most elite magic schools in the world. Teaching its’ boys to defend themselves in magic with their own specialty, unique to every single one, and with the integrity of one who attends such a school. 

Axiom Boys learn to hold the world in their fingertips and manipulate the sorcery in their veins. Axiom Academy, an institute for only the most gifted young wizards in existence.

That is, until one, reluctant girl is suddenly forced to enroll.

PAIRING | choi soobin x female reader + the rest of txt and other kpop idols!

CATEGORY | magic academy, boarding school-esque, magic, wizards, witches, dark themes, etc.

WARNINGS | swearing, dark themes, yeonjun being Annoying.

WORD COUNT | 1.2k

SONG REC | never going back - the score

PLAYLIST | here

A/N: I’m praying there are no typos, dear god. ENJOY!!!

Preview / Chapter One

Incessant chatter and the occasional laugh are what Choi Soobin hears as he rests his palm under his chin and props his elbow on the face of his desk. His jaded stare is aimed toward the east wall of the classroom, seemingly focused somewhere outside the laboratory window, and he stays silent. The boys around him scramble to finish the potion’s assignment they had been given at the beginning of the lecture, and he’s glad they don’t try to talk to him. Instead, they allow him to keep to himself; he is grateful. There are clutters of raindrops painting the glass, and he’s been counting them one by one as the commotion goes on around him. It’s all he’s been focusing on as the minutes tick by.

Just as he’s reached fifty-four, though, he hears one of the boys in the seats next to him speak up. Most likely to his friend at the table behind them, but still loud enough for Soobin to catch.

“—And I heard she’ll be here at the new student’s assembly tomorrow. Can you imagine the possibilities?” The blonde-haired boy says smugly, tone dripping sickly in what Soobin can only describe as want. He frowns further into his palm and keeps his gaze away from the two boys. After all, they are just needy teenagers, and Soobin doesn’t really know them anyway. He decides after that to continue minding his own business, glancing down at his completed assignment before sighing. He always finishes first. The only downside? Having to endure everyone else around who hasn’t.

“Hey Soobin.” A voice tears his gaze away from his paper and up to a pair of round, excited eyes staring back at him. Soobin blinks once at his friend, Beomgyu, before arching a brow in question. Beomgyu simply laughs and drags his stool over to sit across from Soobin at his desk.

“Did you know? New student’s assembly tomorrow, and get this, they’re allowing a girl to enroll.” The younger boy beams, a slight lilt to his words as he playfully smacks the older boy’s arm. Soobin drops his arm onto his desk and sighs again, his friend’s word’s not exciting him in the slightest.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“It’s like the first time in history there’s ever been a girl allowed at Axiom. Like, can you believe that? Why now? Have they even thought about how risky it could be having a girl-“

“I think they know what they’re doing, Beom.”

Soobin tilts his head and looks toward Professor Song in boredom, watching as he flips through the course syllabus, before adding, “And anyway, why do you even care about some girl enrolling? She’s a complete stranger.”

“Because,” Beomgyu says, wagging his finger knowingly in his friend’s face, “Not only is everyone talking about it, but she’s going to be living on campus just like the rest of us. Maybe this will be my chance to finally get a girlfriend.”

Soobin nods absentmindedly at Beomgyu’s words, knowing that every single boy in the academy has the exact same thought.

Well, every boy except him.

It’s not that he doesn’t like girls or anything – he likes them very much – It’s just that he has a tendency to strike out when it came to members of the opposite sex. That and all his focus is usually on his studies; he figures throwing a girl into the mix will just add unnecessary stress into his life. So, he simply keeps to himself. No girlfriend and only a few close friends at the academy. That’s all Soobin has.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu’s voice broke Soobin out of his thoughts once again, “Yeonjun said he’d save us a spot in the dining-hall after potions class ends, so we should probably meet him after.”

The dark-haired boy nods at this, perking up just slightly. He is starving, and he misses his other friends. Lunch time was one of his favorite times of the day.

The sound of a beaker tipping and shattering, and loud laughter exploding from a table across the room causes Soobin to sigh again, and he’s looking out the window of the room once more as Beomgyu suddenly dives into a conversation with someone at the table over.

Dark, booming clouds can be seen rolling in steadily from the distance, and Soobin takes a deep breath.

Maybe soon, things will be different.

“Hello losers.” Yeonjun says in a sing-song voice as he slides into an empty chair at his friend’s table in the dining-hall. Beomgyu and Soobin greet him off-handedly before he hums in excitement, already lifting his chopsticks to start devouring his lunch.

“Oh, Jun, have you heard-“

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Yeonjun responds around a mouthful of chicken, already knowing the main topic of Beomgyu’s conversation. Soobin laughs at this, eyes crinkling as he glances momentarily up at Yeonjun from his book. This causes his friend to smirk cockily before speaking again.

“Everyone’s heard.” He adds, grinning at his friend before going in for some rice.

“Clearly not everyone’s heard,” A voice calls out as they slide into one of the chairs as well, curiosity peaking as they look at Yeonjun with an expecting gaze, “What’s up?”

“New student enrolling tomorrow. A girl.” Beomgyu answers for Yeonjun, wiggling his brows at the younger red head across from him easily. The red head – Tae, according to his closest friends – perks up significantly at this; eyes blown wide in the process.

“What?” He asks.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu nod at him at the same time, confirming his question. Soobin merely flips through his spells book lying open on the table, mouthing the printed ink as he reads quietly to himself. He seems uninterested, but truthfully, he’s listening. He just hopes the conversation about the curious new student dies down soon. He’s getting bored of everyone talking about it.

“And they’re just. . . allowing it?” Taehyun asks, starting to eat his own meal now, “Where is she even going to stay?”

“She’s going to have her own room, I guess. No roommate, which must be nice.” Beomgyu says the last part quietly, side eyeing the older, blue-haired boy who sits next to him. He doesn’t notice his friend’s cheap shot, instead he continues to eat his meal, a content smile on his lips.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu continues, “She’s all everyone’s talking about, and she’s not even here yet. She’ll probably be the most popular person here once she starts.”

“What if she’s not cute?” Yeonjun teases, eyes glinting, “Doubt she’ll be popular then.”

“Yah!” Soobin says, flicking Yeonjun’s forehead suddenly, “Stop talking shit. Just leave it.”

The rest of the boys laugh at Soobin’s action and Yeonjun rubs his forehead in pain, glaring at Soobin. “I’m just being honest!”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Soobin asks, finally closing his textbook before looking around at his friends pleadingly, “Literally anything else.”

“Fine, how was potions?” Tae asks after groaning, looking at Soobin questioningly.

“He finished first as always.” Beomgyu answers for Soobin, gaze flashing toward the black-haired boy before shrugging, “Him and his big brain.”

“It was fine.” Soobin finally answers, trying to defend himself somehow as he furrows his brow and lays his chin on his folded arms resting on the table. “Professor Song wants us to work on our love potions next class.”

“The love potion was such bullshit.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, referring to his time in potions last fall. “It barely works.”

“Just because you tried using it on your crush in the town over, Jun. Not even a potion could have made her have it bad for you.” Soobin shoots back. The boys laugh again and Yeonjun slumps back into his chair, muttering a, “Whatever.” Before the conversation shifts yet again. Soobin sits back and finally starts eating off his own plate, enjoying the light chatting going on around him amidst his friends. He’s chewing on a piece of beef before Taehyun leans in to speak to him quietly.

“So you’re really not excited about the new girl enrolling?”

Soobin gives him a glance before nodding gently, “Not really. It’s just a girl.”

“I know,” Taehyun says softly, “But I figured you’d be at least a little excited. All the guys are.”

This causes the older boy to shrug and continue eating, “I’m not really too bothered by it. I’m more worried about classwork, if I’m being honest.”

Taehyun laughs at this and nods, agreeing with his friend before he drops it and joins in on the conversation the other boys are having. Soobin feels his thoughts start to reel in his head as he decides to sit the gossip out. It’s not like more won’t occur later.

Suddenly, Soobin is thinking about Taehyun’s words from earlier, and something about it doesn’t sit right with him. Sometimes, Soobin wishes he could just be like everyone else. 

He wishes he could just blend in entirely.

Classes pass in a blur of spells and textbooks after lunch ends, and before Soobin knows it, he’s in the hallway making his way back to his shared dorm room. The heavy weight of his textbooks begging to be opened and worked on is evident in his black bag swung over his shoulder, and he weaves through the crowd of other students easily, tall figure looming over a lot of the heads around him.

Once he finally arrives at his dorm and enters, he’s slipping his wand into the pocket of his jacket and resting it on the back of his desk chair, noticing his roommate actually present too. His roommate, a man by the name of Lee Jeno, isn’t around often. He’s either in lectures, on the courtyard playing sports, or studying with his other friends in the library. He only ever comes to the dorm to sleep, but Soobin doesn’t mind. They get along well enough anyway.

“Hey Soobin.” Jeno says with a kind eye smile when he comes in, giving him a half wave after raising his nose from the book balanced against his knees. He’s in bed, body leaning against the headboard, and a pair of glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s still wearing his uniform, except his button up shirt is haphazardly only done up about halfway, and his hair is slighty messy. Soobin doesn’t ask – he assumes Jeno has had about the same type of day he has. It’s understandable without the need for explanation. Soobin gets it.

“Hey Jeno.” Soobin says back, dimples indenting in his cheeks at he grins at his roommate politely. He bites the inside of his lip absentmindedly before dropping his bag next to his desk and rummaging around in his closet for some more comfortable clothes. Unlike his blonde roommate, he prefers pajamas to their school uniform. He’d wear them all the time if he could.

“Did you hear?” Jeno asks, and Soobin mentally prepares for the same conversation he’s heard all day long. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when his roommate speaks again.

“They’re adding fudge cake to the dining-hall menu. How great is that?”

Soobin can’t help the gleeful laugh that escapes his throat, and he nods at Jeno, “I didn’t know. That sounds great Jeno.”

Jeno smiles before dipping his head down toward the pages of his astronomy book, and Soobin sees this as his cue to move toward the small bathroom the two share. After he’s done brushing his teeth and getting into his nightwear, he moves back into the small room and toward his desk. It’s relatively clean from his last study session, and he tugs his backpack over to unzip it and rummage through his books before pulling a few out. His agenda for the night consists of Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology. He would rather be doing anything else.

The hours begin to pass, and the only noise accompanying the scratching of Soobin’s quill is Jeno’s book pages being turned. Six in the evening soon turns to seven, and then eight, and before either of the boys know it, it is already eleven in the evening.

This is when Soobin finally leans back in his desk chair and stretches his aching limbs, deciding on calling it a night. He figures the same of Jeno, who finally lets his book pages fall closed and tosses it onto the nightstand near his bed.

“Lights out?” Jeno asks the taller boy, giving him a small grin as he takes his glasses off and sets them near the abandoned book. Soobin nods and turns off his desk lamp, moving toward his bed as Jeno turns his own lamp out as well.

Soobin pulls the covers back, climbs in, and moves around a bit until he is settled. The darkness is comforting, inviting him to sleep as he finally allows his body to go slack with relaxation.

“Night, Soobin.” Jeno says through the darkness, and Soobin can already feel himself drifting away.

“Night, Jeno.” He replies softly.

And then he is already dozing off, thoughts already running with the worries and anxieties of how tomorrow will go.

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Syllabus Day: A Critical Role Fanfic

For day 5 of @essek-week I just couldn’t resist a little Professor!AU, just the aesthetics of it all are just totally outstanding. Plus I am such a sucker for the “students ship it” trope, I just had to find a way to put it in.  

Read the collection on AO3

Enjoy!

Caleb’s first day as an official professor at Rosohna University had marked down in his memory as hectic, according to his personal journal. He had just managed to get into the country by the skin of his teeth the day before the term was set to start, his lecture notes had been stained by tea by a very apologetic undergrad, and to top it all off there had been technical difficulties with the microphone as he had given the lecture. He also wasn’t looking forward to unpacking both this office and his new apartment as soon as he got home. 

But it wasn’t to say that all of the things that had happened that day were bad. All of the kids he had taught had loved Frumpkin (who was very lovable if you asked Caleb), and were all excited to put Find Familiar in their brand new spellbooks. Caleb found that Find Familiar always made for a great icebreaker lesson, and good first week as opposed to spending a whole lecture on the syllabus. Thankfully he had been told by a few of the undergrads that they were looking forward to the course and to summoning their own familiars next class. Caleb has also had actual thoughtful questions on the material, so though he felt beaten Caleb was not defeated. Sometimes teaching was just a measure in flexibility which was something he was working on. 

When he got back to his office, he was content to move in his important things and then go home to a new apartment to decompress. He had decided that unpacking his apartment could wait until he stopped feeling like his brain was going to steam right out of his ears. It was also a lot of work to unwrap each individually packaged porcelain cat sculpture and place them just right on the bookshelf. He was just about finished with that and ready to call it quits when a knock startled him out of his focus. 

"You are Dr. Widogast then?"

The voice was calm, authoritative. Caleb looked up to see the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on in his whole life.  He was drow, as were many of the professors who guest lectured at Zadash University from Roshanna College. His hair was white, his skin an attractive dark-lilac, his eyes a glinting silver. He was lithe and shorter than Caleb, and wearing a meticulously pressed slate grey wool-and-cashmere trench coat with shiny buttons that had to cost thousands of dollars. And, by the gods, was that collar velvet? He was really wearing an ascot too, and shiny shoes and black leather gloves. Caleb had never felt so grungy in his whole life, in his cat fur covered thrift shop sweater, crinkled khakis and bargain-bin boots. Caleb had the insane urge to cringe and apologize for breathing in the same air as him. 

"I am," Caleb said, holding out his hand in spite of himself. "I'm Caleb Widogast, and you are…?"

"Dr. Essek Theylss, I run the fall semester Advanced Dunamantic Theory seminar and the Introduction to Graviturgy," he introduced, taking his hand lightly. Caleb couldn't help but gape. Essek Theylss, he knew the name Essek Theylss. Anyone in academia with even the slightest interest in dunamancy knew who Essek Theylss was, and yet somehow this man was talking to him.  

"Yes of course," Caleb said, his brain and excitement running ahead of his decorum. "I read your essay on influencing gravity with magic. You created a levitation spell that is rooted in dunamancy that can last for hours! It was an incredible piece of work." 

"I see my reputation has preceded me," Dr. Theylss said, mouth curling up in a half-smile. "And here I was thinking I was alone in admiration."

"What?" Caleb asked dumbly, as Essek ran a gloved finger over the desk, he inspected his finger before continuing to gaze upon his surroundings with a thoughtful look. For a moment it looked like Essek was considering the environment before he returned to look at Caleb with an intense expression. 

"Your work on spell modification is truly something. I was extremely pleased to hear that you were joining the faculty especially considering your work with Bigby's Hand. What's the name of the spell you developed?" Essek asked, turning sharply and so quickly that Caleb barely processed that he did. 

"Oh...Cat's Ire." 

"Yes, it's very clever, I'm sure a good many students will benefit from your instruction,” Essek said, and though it was a commonplace nicety somehow it felt genuine in a way that touched Caleb.  

"Well, thank you Dr. Theylss--"

"Just Essek will do," he corrected, straightening his already immaculate collar. 

"Then you must call me Caleb," Caleb managed beyond his tongue, which felt nearly swollen in his dry mouth. 

"Then I shall,” Essek said. He smiled, and he could see just the barest flash of elongated canines. “Caleb it is then. I cannot tell you how truly excited I am to be teaching with you this year. I look forward to it, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sure I will learn a good many things from you.”

“Me as well,” Caleb croaked. 

With another airy smile, Dr. Essek Theylss left Caleb speechless in his own office. Behind him the air was scented with the slightest bit of peppermint, like he had dabbed on some expensive cologne before he walked in the room. Caleb sagged against the wall, attempting to take deep breaths and calm the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t felt so affected by anyone since...well, in a very long time. Longer than he would probably like to admit. Attractive people like that lived their own strange and storied lives that people like Caleb simply couldn’t understand. Though...he wanted to. Mentally he was already calculating how long it would be until it stopped being weird to visit in one of Dr. Theyl--Essek’s lectures. He was sure that Essek certainly had a lot to teach him. 

“Meow?” Frumpkin asked from the top of the bookshelf, blinking down at him with wide yellow eyes. His ears were alert, like he had just caught Caleb with his hand in a treat jar. Greedy thing, Caleb broadcasted across their mutual bond. Caleb got the distinct feeling of playtime, bored, now sent back to him. 

“Ja, I know. What a day,” Caleb agreed before watching his familiar jump from the bookshelf onto his desk, scattering papers and knocking over his books and sending a paperweight tumbling to the flood. “Ach! Frumpkin! It’s not play time now! I’ll play with you when we get home!” 

A new year, a new adventure, and more things to learn. Caleb just wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 

___________________

“What do you think of Dr. Widogast, Luc?”

“What do you mean, what do I think? I mean, like, he’s a good teacher. He’s my mom’s friend so I knew him before but like, when we all didn’t do well on the quiz he threw it out and retaught us..that was pretty nice.” 

“No, no, no! I mean about him and Dr. Theylss?” 

“Oh! That. Caliana was talking to me about the Dunamancy Major kids’ theories on that whole thing. I think it’s just bullshit.” 

“Go fuck yourself!” 

“No, go fuck yourself, Kiri. And hey! Stop messing with Nugget and actually throw the ball please. Twiggy can you tell Trixie not to try to break nuts on Nugget’s head.” 

“Trixie don’t do that, be nice to Nugget! But seriously, Luc, you don’t think anything is going on between them?” 

“I didn’t say that, I just think that Uncle Caleb is too awkward to ever make the first move. Plus, Dr. Theylss is so intimidating. I heard he glared at a kid so hard once that they passed out in the lecture hall.” 

“Well I think it’s happening, and you wanna know why I think it’s happening?”

“Why?”  

“I saw them together the other day, outside of campus!” 

“No you did not, you are just bullshitting me right now.” 

“I am not! I totally did. I was having a girls night out with Reani and Keg and Caliana and Kiri and we went to the restaurant with the awesome fried calamari-you know the place right?” 

“I know the place. Also, hey, why did you guys all go out and not invite me? I’m insulted.” 

“That was the night you went on that date with the cute half-orc. How did that work out by the way?”

“Oh, got you. No luck unfortunately, all they wanted to do was talk about was how the War of 836 PD should be called the War of Xhorhassian Aggression and how good it was for the economy. Barf. I hate Merchant Majors. But anyways back to what you were saying…?”  

“They were in a booth talking, they had wine, and they were sitting real close together. Right, Kiri?” 

“Yes, I am very sweet.” 

“Dr. Widogast and Dr. Theylss were totally playing footsies under the table, it was definitely happening. They are totally in love and are dating, I am absolutely sure of it!” 

“Well, who would’ve thunk it. Uncle Caleb’s got game, maybe he could teach me a thing or two.” 

“You’ll shoot your eye out!” 

“Seriously, Kiri, wanna fight?”

[rainandhotchocolate]

Hello luv

A/N: This took me so fkn long to write omg - also extra soz to @nym-phi for how long this took me, I got very caught up in writing longer stories… ANYWAY I hope you like this as a lil V-day fluff piece - I hope this is ok!

Come Home

Y/N closed the door behind her, sliding down the door huffing. She smelled like Carlton Draught beer, it was soaked into her fingernails, and she could still feel where men had pinched her ass all night as she served them drinks. The lights were all off in her apartment, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to get up and turn them all on. The idea of her having to stare herself in the mirror covered in the mess of a workplace she’d been in for the past year made her want to start crying again.

Remus would have already made her a hot chocolate, a hot water bottle, and sat her in bed, telling her to put in her resume somewhere else, ‘somewhere that deserves her’. Y/N hated when he said that.

Y/N groaned finally, pulling herself up off the floor, rubbing her eyes and moving begrudgingly down towards her shower. She felt the hot water burning her skin, forgetting all the places that she had been touched or beer had been poured on her. After drying herself off and slipping into bed ducking her head under the covers to black out the noise and lights still coming through the window from Shoreditch.

She fell in and out of sleep. She felt strong arms curl around her waist, pulling her back into a warm chest hair brushing into her neck…

Y/N gasped, sitting upright as daylight began streaming into her window. She couldn’t help but check the bed beside her to see if he was there, smirking slightly, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. Y/N couldn’t help it, it was like a compulsion, just in case one day he happened to be there waiting for her.

“Y/N, Y/N are you up?” Another voice called out, Y/N realising why she woke up so suddenly.

“Yes Rem, all up, not naked” She yawned, grinning at him as he pulled open the door to her bedroom rolling his eyes.

“You look wrecked” Remus came and sat next to her handing her over a large cappuccino, scrunching up his nose at the smell as she opened up the coffee cup and sipped on the powdered chocolate.

“Thanks, Moony, always know how to cheer a girl up” She sighed as the caffeine began to course through her veins, “Are you all organised for next week?”

“Oh yes, got the streamers, balloons, several chains to bolt myself to the basement so I don’t get loose and kill the rest of London in a murderous werewolf rampage”

“Perfect! And guess what, I’m on my period next week too! We’re finally in sync” She winked, gulping more of the hot coffee as it warmed her up, “So why are you over so early”

“It’s 12”

“You know I got home at 4am right”

“I was here to give you some news, shush!”

“Ok, ok” Y/N grinned into her drink. 

“Alright so, I got a letter – and stop interrupting me ok, this is good news, - from Dumbledore” His face split into a smile, one that lit up his eyes in a way that Y/N hadn’t seen in, well 11 years (11 weeks, 3 days), “He offered me a job”

“He what! What job?”

“Defence against the Dark Arts Professor”

“REMUS!” Y/N threw herself at him, hugging him a little too tightly.

“Can’t – breath” Remus attempted to laugh as Y/N pulled away from him.

“Remus, that is so exciting! How long have I been telling you to apply, Dumbledore would do anything for you”

“It is a really big deal, I’m a little worried that he hasn’t thought the whole way through” And here was classic Remus again, brow furrowing deeper into his forehead as he began listing out all the potential problems there would be if he became a Professor at Hogwarts.

“Stop it, Shush! You literally studied for this, you have run through the syllabus for fun, and I can’t even count the amount of time you tried to teach s-“ Y/N caught herself before she said it, “me how to defend myself against a Grindylow. They’re going to love you”

“He mentioned another thing as well”, Remus continued, a little quieter. Y/N felt her stomach turn over. She’d already thought about it, about who might be at Hogwarts around about now, with black hair and round glasses.

“Harry’s going to be in one of my classes” Remus began picking at his nails, a nervous habit he’d picked up ever since Professor Slughorn told him that having long nails would result in him not being able to adequately stir his potion, clearly unaware of Remus’ nails being leftover from his latest full moon.

“Has Dumbledore told him anything?”

“No, I don’t think so”.

They both remained silent momentarily. Y/N remembered the day Harry went to Hogwarts, September 1st 1991, Remus and Y/N had taken days of work and sat at home drinking Firewhiskey. Y/N almost glanced over to the small black box pushed under her bedside table, the lid bursting open with small pointy corners of envelopes pointing out the sides. Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly and turned back to smile at Remus.

“When do you start then? Do you have to go in early?”

“Well normally, yes, but I mentioned that my furry little problem peaks up again next week, so he’s allowed me to come in on the train with the rest of the students”

“Get some nostalgia, maybe they’ll let you sit up with the driver like you’ve always wanted!” Y/N winked and shoved his shoulder slightly.

“Oh shut up” Remus growled, but he was grinning at her, “I’m really excited”

“You really, really should be” Y/N squeezed his forearm, “And stop internally worrying, I bet you already have a full years study plan ready”

“Well, I have been asking Dumbledore if he can bring in some cages for me” Remus’ grinned again, a twinkle in his eye that Y/N hadn’t seen since Si-, since their own days at Hogwarts.

“Are you ok?” Remus watched her closely as she shook her head, pulling at the hem of her pyjama top.

“Yes, sorry of course! Just a bit tired, come on let's go get your supplies, I know you’re desperate to get some new 0.7mm ballpoint pens”

Remus poked her in the ribs lightly and stood up, straightening out his trousers, “Alright get dressed lazy bones, I’ll meet you downstairs”.

“Do you-“

“Yes I have two muffins and a croissant downstairs, so hurry the fuck up” Remus closed the door behind him chuckling loudly.  

They spent the rest of the day trawling through every stationary store in Convent Garden. Neither of them wanted to bring up the fact that he would probably be needing some actual magical quills from Diagon Alley. They had both been avoiding it for a while now, only going when extremely necessary, or they couldn’t find another place that sold what they needed. Waving Remus goodbye from the Northern Line platform heading back towards Brixton. She felt her stomach drop as he turned away and her head swirled with the idea of being alone for the next 6-12 months as Remus went to teach at Hogwarts. Well, alone was a stretch, it’s not like she was a loner, but Remus was her strongest connection to the magical world since James and Lily and Peter and Si-

“What the fuck” Y/N banged on her front door trying to push it open, her key getting stuck as she tried to jam it open. She gave a final whack and fell through, landing painfully in a similar position to where she had sat the night before, covered in alcohol.

“Uuuuuuughhhh” She groaned loudly, digging her finger into her now bruised hip bone and stood back up to curse at her front door. Hanging up her coat and bag she went into the kitchen, grabbing some bread and ham and making a sandwich and sitting on her dining room chair, sighing. She bit down into the rye bread before she noticed anything.

As someone who spent a lot of time at home cleaning as a way to avoid… other things, it was blindly obvious when a scruff of black hair sat in the back corner of the kitchen, sticking out from under the cabinets. She stood up suddenly, walking over to it cautiously, wand at the ready.

“Lumos” Y/N pointed at the black tufts of hair, unsure what to do about it. It had been a while since anything odd had happened around here. She’d done a very good job of making her life as predictable as possible – work, Remus, work friends drinks, sleep, repeat. Her heart had started beating heavy in her chest in that way that reminded her what it was like to feel nervous, afraid, excited.

She went over and nudged it with her foot lightly when there was a light growl behind her. She jumped and turned quickly, holding her wand hand out like a sword, her heartbeat now crawling into her throat as she gazed out into the small amount of light coming out of her wand and a small lamp sitting next to her toaster (Remus had to explain to her 3 times how it worked).

“Who’s there” Y/N hissed, creeping forwards, “Show yourself”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure the best way to see you” a hoarse voice called out from the doorway, a large figure appearing slowly in the shadows. Sirius stepped into the light, revealing skin so pale he might have been a ghost, with black matted hair and dark, sunken eyes that seemed to suck in the remaining light. He was thin. Thinner than she’d ever seen him, even when he’d come back from his Christmas break in their 3rd year having been starved for 2 weeks by his parents.

Her stomach was flipping over and over, head whirling, unsure what she should do next – what are you meant to do when your life-sentenced partner breaks out of prison and stands in your doorway.

“You don’t have to say anything – fuck – I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, maybe I shouldn’t have come here” Sirius trailed off, his eyes flashing uncertainly. Y/N closed the distance between them in three long strides and flung her arms around him. Sirius gripped her back, digging calloused fingers into her shoulder blades taking in a deep breath as if he’d been holding it.

“How did – are you ok? Are people after you?” Y/N pulled away, looking at him closer now. His face looked skull like as if the skin was stretched back over him.

“Padfoot,” He said softly, nodding to the chairs where she had left her sandwich and going over to sit down, groaning loudly as he got off his feet, “The dementors, they can’t tell when you change form.”

“You mean to tell me… that you escaped Azkaban. ASKAban – the highest security prison in the UK by being an unregistered animagus?”

Sirius shrugged, his eyes beginning to droop shut with exhaustion. Y/N pushed the sandwich closer to him and nudged his leg so he’d wake up. He jolted back upright, eyes suspicious until he saw Y/N again and followed her hand to the partially eaten ham sandwich.

“Thanks” He croaked out, clearly unable to really function. Y/N watched him closely as he slowly tried to chow down on the bread, almost a little pathetically.

“Are you…ok?” Y/N asked slowly, wincing at how pitiful the question sounded but he smiled at her, and Y/N could finally see a glimmer of the Sirius she remembered.

“I will be.” He stepped closer again, reaching out a hand as if he wanted to grab hers but he pulled away quickly, “I just, I need to get to Hogwarts”.

“Hogwarts?”

“Peter is there, he’s with Harry, I can’t let him do anything to him”

“What? Peter, are you sure?” Y/N felt her throat close up. This was the one topic that had been playing on her mind. And the one that she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up.

“You don’t believe me?” Sirius turned sour instantly, eyes narrowed, suspicious.

“Of course I do, it’s just… Peter? We haven’t heard anything about him in what-12 years? How do you know he’s at Hogwarts?”

“Fudge, he came by Azkaban – probably to gloat, and brought the newspaper. There was a photo of the Weasley’s, do you remember Arthur from school? His kids all in Egypt – and there he was, sitting on the smallest boy’s shoulder was Peter” He gushed, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “as a rat”.

“And he’s at Hogwarts?” Y/N said slowly, struggling to take in all this information at once.

“That’s what the article said” It seemed that just getting the words out was calming him down. Y/N paused momentarily.

“Why are you here, Sirius” She sighed, asking the inevitable. There was still a little part of her ticking away in her head that kept reminding her of how much it hurt the first time he left. She knew she shouldn’t blame him, she wanted so badly to believe him, but she also knew he had a one-track mind sometimes and that didn’t always leave room for her.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said honestly, “Not that I’m not glad I ended up here. Once I got out I just kept moving and moving and ended up back in your old neighbourhood. I wasn’t sure if you’d still live here but I remembered you used to keep a key out because wizards would never look for it” 

“Apparently that didn’t work” Y/N chuckled, Sirius grinning back at her. 

“I, uh, should clean up” He pointed his hands towards his ragged attire and matted hair. 

“Oh, yes, of course, the bathroom is in the same place” She pointed down the hall and he nodded, leaving her alone in the kitchen. Y/N was frozen to the spot.  A part of her wanted to grab the phone and call Remus immediately, but she already knew that he would apparate here and be sticking his wand in Sirius’ throat so quickly she’d not have hung up yet. She heard the shower begin to run and the idea of Sirius, the boy she fell in love with, the man who could make her laugh till she fell off her chair, or push up against a wall and make her legs shake. 

Y/N walked slowly down the hall towards the shower and pushed open the door. The white curtain was closed, but she could see his silhouette, hunched and thin, pushing his face under the water.

“Sirius?”

“Mmmmm” 

“Can I join you?”

There was a pause, Sirius’ silhouette having stopped dead. 

“Yes, of course. I mean it’s your shower” He was nervous, his hands almost wanting to cover up the pulled skin over his bones. He didn’t feel like he was the man who deserved to be here anymore, with Y/N, who had stripped off and looked even more beautiful than he had remembered. She stepped in slowly, moving up close to him so she could share the warm shower. 

Y/N could hear his heart beating loudly as she moved closer to his chest, his eyes looking down at her. 

“I missed you” She murmured, not yet looking up at him, her stomach turning over and over in her stomach. This was something she’d fantasised about, every single situation that could have seen Sirius’ freed and back here, with her.

“You kept me going in there, you know” Sirius stepped in closer to her, his arms itching to pull her closer, to feel her up against him, “I shouldn’t have gone to face Peter alone, I-”

Y/N lifted her head up, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him softly. He pulled her up against him and kissed her back, deepening the kiss as she pushed him up against the back of the shower. Memories of feeling his lips on hers and his tongue push through and flick onto hers, in the hallways between Transfiguration and Charms, in the secret passageways towards Honeydukes, in back rooms of James’ house when his parents had gone to sleep and James and Lily were sneaking into each other’s rooms. 

“I’m not going to leave you again” Sirius murmured into her ear, still gripping her tightly. 

“I’m not going to let you”. 

@maraudersandco  @sly-vixen-up2nogood   @blackpinkdolan @katbernoulli    siriuslyjanhvi   evyiione   @sirius-lysad   @cherrie511   @thebabblingbook   @blushingskywalker    @imlukesnirvana

[myblackgirlmagicsyllabus]

Diarra From Detroit (2024 TV show created by Diarra Kilpatrick)

[obsidianarchives]

Exploring Slytherin House from a Black Historical Lens

As a weird, goth-punk, nerdy, queer Black girl growing up in the projects, I always held a certain type of anger. I adored Black history and developed a keen sense of the socio-political challenges our communities faced. I also embraced dark subcultural elements, like darkwave and punk, an avenue where ‘darkness’ played out in the Eurocentric sense, and thus became a part of rebellion with white kids. Anything dark would resemble rebellion — Blackness included. This caused me to become isolated and a bit resentful towards the outer world.  

My tastes for ‘darkness’ extended to the Harry Potter universe. My personal obsession with Slytherin House is odd since they have been considered to be the ‘neo-Nazis of the Wizarding World.’ I attribute this good vs. evil paradigm to Rowling’s cultural methodology of character building. But the characteristics of Slytherin shouldn’t be considered bad. The idea of having your community’s best interests at heart and living without fear from potentially antagonistic forces should be a wonderful message to marginalized individuals. However, in the Harry Potter series, it plays out with questionable character attributes that tend to be polarizing.

Zora Neale Hurston — folklorist, anthropologist, author, and all-around bad-ass — grew up in a small Black town in Florida. This autonomous Black community cemented her belief that Black people did not need integration in order to gain equality. She believed that the means of our freedom was in our own communities and that to allow whiteness within it would undermine our efforts. The spirit of the Black community could only be maintained if we were given the space to govern ourselves, unapologetically. For me, Zora and her views are very Slytherin.

"Or perhaps in Slytherin, You'll make your real friends, These cunning folks use any means To achieve their ends."  -- The Sorting Hat, Sorcerer’s Stone

When Salazar Slytherin helped create Hogwarts, he was mistrustful of Muggle-born students because of tensions between the Muggle world (which at the time was considered dangerous and a threat to magical people) and the Wizarding World (which he felt needed to be protected from that very threat). He wanted the magical community to live separate from the Muggles and Muggle-borns. 

Slytherin House is modeled by the philosophy of ‘being the best.’ It’s members are often viewed as isolationist. Cunning, hardworking, logical, and a traditionalist, Salazar wanted his students to solve obstacles in their lives with apt strategy. Despite this knack for self-sufficiency and collective transgenerational preservation, they are criminalized. Sound familiar?

Similarly, Malcolm X advocated for Black people to defend themselves from the racism and prejudice they faced. "I don't call it violence when it's self-defense. I call it intelligence." Malcolm was a controversial figure in his day, often seeming to butt heads with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and other Civil Rights leaders for his more separationist and headstrong views that eschewed Black integration into white society.

"We declare our right on this earth to be a man, to be a human being, to be respected as a human being, to be given the rights of a human being in this society, on this earth, in this day, which we intend to bring into existence by any means necessary."  -- Malcolm X, Organization of Afro-American Unity founding rally on June 28, 1964

Even Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. came to some elements of this Slytherin philosophy. Several years after the “I have a dream” speech, King is reported as saying, “I fear I am integrating my people into a burning house.” He suggested that perhaps it was not as simple to imagine equality only by the acceptance of race. He ultimately came to the conclusion that the answer to his “dream” was a bit more complex, that integration wasn’t the end of the fight. 

Likewise to these real life schools of thought, Salazar thought that integrating Muggle-borns into the magical community wasn’t as simple as Gryffindor wanted it to be. Salazar took his “means” too far in the direction of prompting genocide, but the parallels are there.

As with Black people through history, Slytherins have internalized adaptability, intuition, and a resistance towards those who misunderstand them. Slytherins can come off as being cold or callous, but their ability to possess duality makes them quite unpredictable. This could read as the very real struggle of the Black individual groomed into the idea of assimilation, only to be tokenized and regarded as a ‘token of Eurocentrism’ to the masses or be forced to hide their true nature, while facing systematic disadvantages. 

The fatal flaw of the analogy of racism in Harry Potter is that the Wizarding World is colorblind. Anti-Blackness is a rhetoric not explored in Rowling’s world. So comparing Black history to Rowling’s incomplete metaphor was more about me finding myself in Slytherin House when the rest of the Wizarding World didn’t look like me.  

Every day, those like myself who live on the fringe are told to ‘change’ and to accept a society that has been intent on killing us. Slytherin House taught me that we should live our lives unapologetically, without fear — by any means necessary.

Monika Estrella Negra is a queer, Black punk/goth hybrid of mystery. Her first short titled "Flesh" is about a Black femme serial killer navigating the Chicago DIY punk scene (of which was included in the ‘Horror Noire’ syllabus). She has directed three additional shorts, ‘They Will Know You By Your Fruit’, ‘Succubus’, and the in production ‘Bitten, A Tragedy’. A writer, a nomadic priestess, spiritual gangster and all around rabblerouser - Monika has written essays for Black Girl Nerds, Grimm Magazine, is the author of a zine series (Tales From My Crypt), the creator of Audre's Revenge Film and Black and Brown Punk Show Chicago, a 2018 Leeway Foundation Art and Change Grantee, and is aspiring to become a Meme Lord. Hailing from the Midwest, she now resides in Philadelphia, focusing on completing her Vengeance Anthology.

[mohini-musing]

Chasing Ghosts

I’m playing around with a newish AU setup. No powers, still figuring out full backstory, but here is the first bit of one shot in this little universe.

      Why did he think this was a good idea o’clock in the morning was not the best time to start seeing ghosts. Not that there is ever a good time to see ghosts, but this particular one was sitting front and center in his only idiots sign up for this shit chemistry lecture. His first instinct is to head for the rear of the room but he’s already lived through a war tour and he’s not running from a redhead who weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet. His second thought is to be grateful for his habit of entering classes from the front entries rather than the rear. It might be one of those habits of hyper-vigilance his therapist says he should work on reducing but for today he’s going to call it adaptive and fucking helpful. He sits a few rows back, close enough to pay attention to lecture or at least what little lecture there will be on read the syllabus to the class day.

A tedious hour of class policies and a hefty serving of dad jokes later the class at large files out the various doors of the large lecture hall. He can see her still and she is most definitely who he thinks she is. He would know that face in a thousand lifetimes. Those darting, hypervigilant eyes are burned into his consciousness in a way that is never leaving him. The way she holds herself on the balls of her feet, knees loose, hips just a little beyond neutral front and back, shoulders purposefully loose and ready, that posture is not the stance of a little girl in a light sundress and sandals. It’s the body position of a fighter and he knows it well because he sees it in his mirror daily.

“Tasha?” he calls out when he’s within a few feet of her in the hallway. She whips around in a spin that confirms every one of his suppositions.

“James,” she says evenly. Her eyes are surveying him and he finds himself hoping she finds him adequate, worthy, enough.

“I thought it was you,” he tells her, kicking himself for sounding like an idiot the moment the words leave his lips.

“It’s been a while,” she comments, eyes traveling up and down him and taking measure of every inch. The millisecond pause when she reaches the hand that isn’t a hand is faster than nearly anyone else he’s ever seen.

“I’ve got an hour before I’m due in class. Coffee?” James asks her, and she nods. They walk in perfect unison to the little crap coffee shop with over-roasted beans and too sugary drinks. She orders two black coffees and carries them to a high-top table.

“So, I’m going to assume the army wasn’t so good to you,” she says without preamble.

He nods, rolling the sleeve of his shirt up just enough for her to see the metal of the prosthetic clearly above the leather glove he wears to stop most people from staring.

“They weren’t half bad, it’s the IEDs that sucked,” he replies and he’s momentarily shocked by the ease with which the words come. He never talks about this with anyone but Steve. Even then it’s usually more a drunken moment of loose lips or the middle of the night revelations born of nightmares that don’t fade when the lights come on.

“I see,” she answers, and it’s the first time anyone has managed to not thank him for his service or tell him they’re sorry. He wants to hug her. He also remembers that hugging Tasha is a very bad idea.

“So how’d you end up here? I’m obviously GI Billing it. You?”

“Aged out and signed on for the extended care plan. The state pays for tuition and student housing so they can count me in the success column on the statistics. I get a roof, food, classes, and a worker who shows up to check in on me once a month and make sure I’m still breathing. It works.”

Aged out. The words chill his soul. It’s not that it’s a surprise. Kids like him and Tasha don’t get adopted. They get handed a list of options at the pre-planning conference that include things like Army, college, votech, and the ever popular back to the home they got pulled out of for any number of reasons.

“You’re staring,” she comments.

James forces himself to look down at the table, to stop searching her face for any hint of what’s beneath that pretty surface. He’s seen Tasha work her magic. No one ever sees anything but what she wants them to.

“Sorry. So, what’s your plan after?”

“You still suck at small talk, you know,” she smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m a criminal justice major. End goal is FBI, but they require a bachelor’s and some field experience so school’s the first stop. You?”

“Psychology. Figure I’m fucked up enough to be able to do some good helping someone else.”

“So we’re doing the same thing,” she tells him. “It’s good to see you, James. I need to get going, but give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

They exchange phones, logging their numbers into them and go their own ways. James watches her as she weaves in and out of the hordes of people on the pathways, disappearing into the crowd within moments. He makes his way to his next lecture, texting Steve when he slouches into his seat.

J.Barnes: Tasha is in my chem lecture.

S.Rogers: The Tasha?

J.Barnes: The Tasha.

S. Rogers: Damn. Good Luck with that.

J. Barnes: You are such a punk.

[sapphicscholar]

Letter 75

April 3, 2012, 10:55am

Hi Maggie,

Please don’t apologize. I wasn’t...I was talking more about the sort of cultural expectations around tragedy than anything else. It was the anniversary of my dad’s funeral this weekend. Normally I try to spend the day with family if I can and Kara offered to drop by, but I couldn’t afford time away from the lab considering I’ll be gone for the conference. I just couldn’t stop thinking of this one time I went to CAPS (the mental health services thing here) just because I though, I don’t know, everyone kept saying I should and…it really didn’t go well. The person they gave me kept trying to convince me that “everything happens for a reason” and that we can learn from the hardships we face in life. And idk I felt like I was failing at grieving. And who the fuck fails at that?

But you’re right, our situations are different and I can only imagine what it must have felt like to rebuild your life after what your parents did. I don’t know…reading about you leaving that card for Eliza, I can only think about brave you had to have been at such a young age. I think the way you were able to wrestle meaning out of all of that also speaks to your strength.

Ok after that depressing interlude…

I’m sure your aunt would love to hear from you!! I had never heard of Asterix before, but after a bit of Googling I’m pretty confident those are good gifts to send. Très French.

I’m excited for my present. WHAT IS IT??? I will buff up on my oenological lingo for our wine tasting. I’ll admit on my grad school stipend I myself am partial to a vintage full-bodied “Two-Buck Chuck” from Trader Joe’s. (Don’t laugh, at least it’s not boxed wine.)

I’m glad the trip went well! I’m excited to see the pictures. Also I’m currently envisioning you in a beret with a cigarette in hand typing away at the Shakespeare and Company typewriter while gazing out at the Seine at Notre Dame, accordion music playing in the background. Obviously this is all happening in black and white.

I emailed Kara to see if she could dig up some photos of the two of us from that dark time in my life. You’ll be the first to know if she finds something.

Hahaha…I will need you to develop a syllabus for Alex’s Gay Education. This is priority number two, second only to figuring out plan’s for Alex’s Trip Abroad. I’m really excited. And we don’t have to go hunting for alien references in the Ancient Egypt Art exhibits. I’m sure we can find some hints of them in the Impressionists too. Or at least we can identify fuzzy outlines of creatures that may or may not be aliens.

I was also going to say Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures!! However, I’m not going to lie…I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of Potions, but it really depends on whether Potions is a closer analog to Chemistry or cooking. Though I’d like to think that even if it was close to cooking, with weekly classes I’d eventually become at least competent.

So, are you one of those people who seeks out the 99% cacao dark chocolates? Because if so, you’re clearly a masochist. More seriously, do you do flavored chocolate? I know some people like sea salt chocolate, or chocolate infused with chili powder or mint. I’ll admit I haven’t really tried white chocolate aside from a Hershey’s Cookies ‘N Cream Bar, which hardly counts as chocolate.

I hope you get into every program you’re applying too, but I’m not going to lie: I’m totally rooting for National City. I can show you where I got those massive cupcakes! Though I would totally understand if you decide to go to Chicago to be close to your aunt. Let me know if you want a second pair of eyes on your applications.

To answer your questions:

1. Most embarrassing autofill: Not quite an autofill but certainly embarrassing. I was opening my laptop to show my professor a few figures I had made and I forgot that a google search of “How to know if you’re gay” was open in another tab. I like to think he didn’t see it…

2. Supposedly fun thing I will never do again: Getting a pedicure. I know it’s supposed to be relaxing or whatever, but my feet are super ticklish and it is not a good idea to burst out laughing and start flailing when people are working with sharp objects near your feet. Don’t worry, I tipped generously even though I left with only one nail painted.

3. The stereotype that fits me too well: I’m not sure, but I kind of fit the stereotype of the smart kid who got pushed into all of these accelerated programs only to burn out. I’m trying my best to shake that stereotype off. I was also once told that I fit that sort of bitter brunette with the “big black boots” and the “get back stare” from Jet’s “Are You Gonna Be My Girl.” That stereotype, however, is one I’m going to proudly live up to until the day I die.

Questions for you: 1) Flipside of a question we asked earlier on in this game: What is one superpower you would hate having? 2) What is one thing that you know is pretty ridiculous to be so obstinate over but you’re adamant about it and will argue over it to the death? 3) What’s your favorite season and why?

Bonus question: what should I pack for Italy that won’t make me look like a giant tourist.

I know I said it on Skype already, but to risk sounding a little dorky, I’m so excited to see you. I really, really am.

T-1 week!! Alex

[backstage-bucknell]

Put This Book On Your List...

by Jess Mount ’21

Link to performance videos!

http://www.danezsmithpoet.com/video

I could not be more grateful for and energized by the classes I am taking and professors I am learning with this semester. One of those courses is WMST 225 Modernisms on the Margins (shout out to Erica Delsandro!). If you are looking for something new to read just check out the syllabus for this course.

Don’t Call Us Dead by Danez Smith. If you are looking for your next book, this award-winning book is certainly a worthwhile read. Through a collection of poetry, they explore blackness in America in an innovative, inspiring, hopeful and heartrending form.

After watching a couple live videos in class of Smith performing their work, I immediately shared with my and had to share with my theatre community. There are two pieces in particular that have stuck with me since reading this book, “dear white America” and “Dinosaurs in the Hood.” For me, watching these readings was a full sensory, visceral experience; the way Smith embodies the passion and desire behind every word is breathtaking.

Check out the link above to watch readings of these pieces. Hope you enjoy and maybe look further into Danez Smith’s phenomenal work!

dear white america

BY DANEZ SMITH

   i’ve left Earth in search of darker planets, a solar system revolving too near a black hole. i’ve left in search of a new God. i do not trust the God you have given us. my grandmother’s hallelujah is only outdone by the fear she nurses every time the blood-fat summer swallows another child who used to sing in the choir. take your God back. though his songs are beautiful, his miracles are inconsistent. i want the fate of Lazarus for Renisha, want Chucky, Bo, Meech, Trayvon, Sean & Jonylah risen three days after their entombing, their ghost re-gifted flesh & blood, their flesh & blood re-gifted their children. i’ve left Earth, i am equal parts sick of your go back to Africa & i just don’t see race. neither did the poplar tree. we did not build your boats (though we did leave a trail of kin to guide us home). we did not build your prisons (though we did & we fill them too). we did not ask to be part of your America (though are we not America? her joints brittle & dragging a ripped gown through Oakland?). i can’t stand your ground. i’m sick of calling your recklessness the law. each night, i count my brothers. & in the morning, when some do not survive to be counted, i count the holes they leave. i reach for black folks & touch only air. your master magic trick, America. now he’s breathing, now he don’t. abra-cadaver. white bread voodoo. sorcery you claim not to practice, hand my cousin a pistol to do your work. i tried, white people. i tried to love you, but you spent my brother’s funeral making plans for brunch, talking too loud next to his bones. you took one look at the river, plump with the body of boy after girl after sweet boi & ask why does it always have to be about race? because you made it that way! because you put an asterisk on my sister’s gorgeous face! call her pretty (for a black girl)! because black girls go missing without so much as a whisper of where?! because there are no amber alerts for amber-skinned girls! because Jordan boomed. because Emmett whistled. because Huey P. spoke. because Martin preached. because black boys can always be too loud to live. because it’s taken my papa’s & my grandma’s time, my father’s time, my mother’s time, my aunt’s time, my uncle’s time, my brother’s & my sister’s time . . . how much time do you want for your progress? i’ve left Earth to find a place where my kin can be safe, where black people ain’t but people the same color as the good, wet earth, until that means something, until then i bid you well, i bid you war, i bid you our lives to gamble with no more. i’ve left Earth & i am touching everything you beg your telescopes to show you. i’m giving the stars their right names. & this life, this new story & history you cannot steal or sell or cast overboard or hang or beat or drown or own or redline or shackle or silence or cheat or choke or cover up or jail or shoot or jail or shoot or jail or shoot or ruin

                                                                                 this, if only this one, is ours.

Dinosaurs in the Hood

BY DANEZ SMITH

Let’s make a movie called Dinosaurs in the Hood.

Jurassic Park meets Friday meets The Pursuit of Happyness.

There should be a scene where a little black boy is playing

with a toy dinosaur on the bus, then looks out the window

& sees the T. Rex, because there has to be a T. Rex.

Don’t let Tarantino direct this. In his version, the boy plays

with a gun, the metaphor: black boys toy with their own lives,

the foreshadow to his end, the spitting image of his father.

Fuck that, the kid has a plastic Brontosaurus or Triceratops

& this is his proof of magic or God or Santa. I want a scene

where a cop car gets pooped on by a pterodactyl, a scene

where the corner store turns into a battle ground. Don’t let

the Wayans brothers in this movie. I don’t want any racist shit

about Asian people or overused Latino stereotypes.

This movie is about a neighborhood of royal folks —

children of slaves & immigrants & addicts & exiles — saving their town

from real-ass dinosaurs. I don’t want some cheesy yet progressive

Hmong sexy hot dude hero with a funny yet strong commanding

black girl buddy-cop film. This is not a vehicle for Will Smith

& Sofia Vergara. I want grandmas on the front porch taking out raptors

with guns they hid in walls & under mattresses. I want those little spitty,

screamy dinosaurs. I want Cicely Tyson to make a speech, maybe two.

I want Viola Davis to save the city in the last scene with a black fist afro pick

through the last dinosaur’s long, cold-blood neck. But this can’t be

a black movie. This can’t be a black movie. This movie can’t be dismissed

because of its cast or its audience. This movie can’t be a metaphor

for black people & extinction. This movie can’t be about race.

This movie can’t be about black pain or cause black people pain.

This movie can’t be about a long history of having a long history with hurt.

This movie can’t be about race. Nobody can say nigga in this movie

who can’t say it to my face in public. No chicken jokes in this movie.

No bullets in the heroes. & no one kills the black boy. & no one kills

the black boy. & no one kills the black boy. Besides, the only reason

I want to make this is for that first scene anyway: the little black boy

on the bus with a toy dinosaur, his eyes wide & endless

his dreams possible, pulsing, & right there.

[im-abanana]

“Meant to Belong” [2/3]

The second part of my Bendy x Alice story, I’ve just updated AO3 as well!

This is still a “safe” chapter, only Fluff in here, ‘cause I’ve decided to put the Smut part on the third. Hope you’ll enjoy this one, too!

The song I used is “My Escape” by Ravenscode, btw.

You are a total idiot. Yes, you are, and such a scaredy cat too. Compliments.

Alright, alright, enough with that shit! Let's say that Bendy didn't find the bravery to actually talk to Alice during the long break they just had, and let's even say that the still very nervous angel was now standing right next to the little devil on stage, waiting to find herself in front of their teeming audience once again, with a terrified and uncomfortable expression painted on her slim face and evidently not really up to perform or sing... fucking Hell, they were ruined, and the demonic character knew it well, too. “Great, really great. Oh for Satan's sake, why are girls always so complicated?” the minute star of the show thought as he carefully fixed his own black jacket, the refined piece of clothing Alice rudely tossed against his rounded face when they met in the main corridor just three or four minutes ago. “She's really mad at me this time.”.

Oh, and judging by the death stare Joey and the rest of the worried crew were giving them from behind the busy scenes, an earful or a punishment were the best options the united trio could hope for, especially if they'd mess up again during that important performance. Come on, those annoying creators were definitely exaggerating, his loyal co-workers were professionals and it wasn't entirely Bendy's fault, to be frank! Besides, he had a great plan to cheer Angel Face and his beloved fans up after the previous failure, with a little help from a certain best friend of his and a clarinet. If being successful and famous could allow you to disobey your bosses' direct orders and breaking tons of rules from time to time, heck yeah, Bendy was more than ready to do it his own way and make peace with the angelic singer of his band. “Ready for it, Boris?” the short devil silently whispered to the tall wolf, grabbing a microphone, winking at his kind-hearted buddy and getting an excited thumbs-up as a response; very good, it could finally begin. “Time to set this stage on fire, Bendy.”.

“Would you help me to find a new way? Would you guide me through all of this again? Don't let me slip away.” Bendy's unmistakable voice suddenly sang in the complete silence and darkness when the little devil met the angel's still irritated gaze, surprisingly and promptly accompanied by the peculiar sound of Boris' clarinet, as if those two had arranged to perform that unforseen song together, without saying anything to Joey, to the rest of the crew and especially to Alice, who was the one supposed to follow the right dance steps and don't mess up again. That wasn't on the syllabus, what was happening!? What was Bendy planning that time!? For fuck's sake, that disgusting demon was surely doing that on purpose, he truly enjoyed embarrassing her and get his friends and co-workers in trouble with the creators and the audience! All. The. Time. “I need you here 'till the very end, so stay here with me. There's so much love in your smile when I look at your face, and I'm here to stay. You're my first and my last love, and you're my escape.”

.

But no, not this time: instead of staying still and ruthlessly watch the angelic cartoon's certain failure, grinning at the fallen girl from afar or internally make fun of her lack of preparation and actual panic, evident and almost tangible in her elegant traits, Bendy slowly stepped forward and tilted his round head to look in the young woman's black orbs and lifted his tiny arms up, to gently intertwine his thicker fingers with her tapered ones, silently asking Alice to dance with him; only a simple gaze was more than enough for the two of them to understand each other's thoughts, doubts and secret desires or fears. Natural chemistry, or just an artificial connection? Well, it didn't really concern her now, since Bendy was trying to truly “apologize” for the very first time of his life, so better take advantage from this situation. “So tell me you'll be right here with me, hearing your voice is like hearing an angel sing. Through the good and bad and all in between, you're the one that I want and the one that I need, and I know.” the little devil happily intoned as he guided and moved with his surprised partner on the tidy stage, reminding Alice that his main innate talent was, in fact, dance. Oh, and probably charm too, since the stunning girl couldn't take her eyes off the demon, feeling hypnotised by his sly but caring grin.

Their inky and agile bodies were beautifully lit by the powerful light bulb of the spotlight, that was closely following their graceful and expert movements, almost accentuating the shiny fabric of their fancy gown and suit and each curve of their relaxed muscles, that were freely tensing and flexing to create an unequalled physical harmony and simultaneously a lovely but tacit tension between the apparently mismatched couple. It was like “seeing a fierce predator carefully interact with a frail prey”, that's how Joey and the others described their complicated and burning relationship; you could never know when one of the two would attack, or run, or growl at the other, or angrily submit without a fight, so as not to cause stupid disasters or useless problems to the superiors.

Yeah, the last option occurred pretty rarely to be completely honest, especially before an important performance or worse, a premiere; sometimes, a cold punch in the face or a firm kick in the delicate guts were way more satisfying than a plain compliment by the bosses or a nice communication with the patient and poor crew that had to put up with their unpredictable behaviour 24 hours a day, every single day. Egoism, you might say? Maybe a little bit, alright, but ehy! Brawling with an arrogant rival was one of life's few joys, maybe the sweetest, but the moments of complete peace or dammit, even tenderness between the spiteful devil and the fiery fallen angel were so incredibly rare that right now, seeing the two cartoons performing together with such grace, trust, respect and strength was almost unbelievable, definitely jaw-dropping.“You taught me to live each day, to live each day like it's my last. I won't make you turn away! So come with me, and never look back!”.

That particular song and its deep meaning couldn't be random at all, but the dancers' regal and measured steps surely were improvised... or at least things would have looked like that under the keen and trained eyes of a critic, or a journalist. Luckily for everyone nobody important was there that night, only the inexpert kids and the parents were watching the duo's little show, staring at Bendy and Alice with fascinated expressions and enchanted faces, not speaking as not to disrupt the magical and intimate atmosphere of the busy and pretty crowded room. “After all that we've been through, you are still by my side and I'm grateful you're there and I, I love you. You're my best friend and I want you to know I care!”. Only the tapping sound of their refined shoes hitting the wooden floor of the magnificent proscenium was audible, and the much more taller fallen angel smiled benignly as she spotted the tiny demon having an hard time keeping up with her own fast pace and hold her gloved hands in his, very careful not to step on her pale feet at the same time. Fucking height difference...

Poor thing, maybe he needed some help? Very well.

“So- Uh!?” a loud gasp of surprise and pure fear escaped from Bendy's parted lips as Alice unexpectedly bend over, curled her long fingers around his slim waist and easily picked him up, leaving her black haired partner with his short legs pitifully hanging in midair and feeling his pointed tail snugly wrapping around her curved hips, tightly, to probably get some sort of support and better security. Despite the minute star's evident confusion and distress, those momentary emotions were soon replaced by irrepressible excitement and frenzy as the young woman kept dancing with him in her arms and whispered a quick “I won't drop you, don't worry. Just sing with me.” against the demon's flushed left cheek. That wish was his command and besides, being so tall was awesome indeed! Cool! So that's how Boris and Alice always felt while walking around or simply standing!“S-so tell me you'll be right here with me, hearing your voice is like hearing an angel sing. Through the good and bad and all in between, you're the one that I want and the one that I need, and I know!”.

“So this is how we planned it, knowing that we won't be alone. And this is how it's supposed to be, when you knew it all along!” Alice elegantly sang right after her limp co-worker, her voice echoing in the thin walls and reaching such perfect high notes Bendy couldn't even imagine existed. In those unique moments, the little demon could clearly understand why he felt that huge tension when that majestic, angelic creature would walk on stage and stop by his tense side, giving all she got to their loyal and cheering fans: Alice's powerful but also mild singing was capable of making your fragile ribcage shake in total bliss, your weak heart faint with overwhelming emotion, your knees turning into slimy jelly and your head soar on the clouds of Heaven and drown into the sweetest dreams and wildest fantasies. And her face was so incredible too, her body so damn sexy, her smile so tender and so cute... her freaking everything was perfect, designed to appear breathtaking and absolutely appetizing to everyone, and especially him. Dammit, was he really that helpless in front of her undeniable beauty? Yeah, most likely. “So tell me you'll be right here with me, hearing your voice is like hearing an angel sing...”.

“... through the good and bad and all in between, you're the one that I want and the one that I need.” brushing her smooth and pale chin with the covered tip of his index finger, Bendy encouraged the young angel to look into his pitch black orbs, that were shining with great amusement and sincere entertainment as he took a final breath and filled his small lungs with air, ready for the last verse which he hoped they would sing together. And so they did.

“So tell me you'll be right here with me. Hearing your voice is like hearing an angel sing! Through the good and bad and all in between, you're the one that I want and the one that I need, and I know.” mixing and caressing each other like two passionate lovers would, the couple's voices generated an harmony that fit the romantic song, a very strange thing since they were technically natural enemies: an angel and a devil, good and bad, white and black, grace and disgrace. But maybe sometimes you just needed to forget about the differences to change your condition and embrace a new experience, or a surprising point or view; in fact, that was the very first time they performed together with such composure, without punching or trying to toss the other off the stage every five seconds. Even the audience seemed uncaring about their physical nature or their former relationship, since every single person in the big room immediately got up and started to clap forcefully and merrily, shouting out enthusiastic compliments and cheering at the top of their lungs, yelling their beloved names non-stop. Yes, their names, Alice's and Bendy's at the same exact time, as if they were one, as if them both had... the same importance. “And I know...”.

“Eheh, you hear them, Angel Cake? Listen carefully: this is all for you, you should be proud of yourself! Great job, not as good as mine of course, but pretty close!” Bendy weakly mumbled and laughed under his unsure breath with his usual sly and smug grin, panting a little to regain his yearned breath and still holding onto her narrow but robust shoulders. At this point, the tall angel seriously started to think that his dumb smile was indelible from his round visage, and soon after she felt his long black tail dropping down, the little devil trusting the girl completely and relaxing every single muscle, his tiny limbs imperceptibly contracting because of the previous exertion, and his sore throat aching slightly. Meh, singing wasn't that great after all... who cared about that stuff anyway, despite that he was still the most awesome star ever, and dancing was the most appreciated talent! “They love you, toots!”.

“No Bendy, you're wrong. Not only me.” Alice replied with a gentle and ecstatic smile, that only became wider as the angelic cartoon met the joyful gazes of the little kids, of the adults, of the teenagers and elders all around them. To the devil's tired and burning eyes, that amazing smile could lit the whole town, even the whole world. As the reddish curtain was rapidly brought down by the staff, the black haired woman turned her head towards her short co-worker and sincerely declared: “This is for us, for me, Boris and you. They love us all.”.

The sudden and rather scary sound of a powerful thunder broke the respectful silence that was deeply connecting the duo's blurred thoughts, and the violent rain started to ruthlessly beat against the thick windows, the grey rooftops, the hard asphalt, the greenish trees and everything standing outside their safe and warm building; at that precise moment, as the couple heard the noisy people, who just a few instants before were cheering them and clapping, standing up and quickly walking towards the exit to return home before the storm would get worse, the two talented cartoons knew that their show was finally over, at least for the night. Tomorrow was another day, hopefully a successful one.

“I guess... I guess it's time for me to rest and get some sleep, but only if Joey and the other creators don't wish to discuss the next performance with me, of course. Nice work by the way, I had fun tonight.” Alice kindly explained to her oddly attentive partner, clearing her throat and putting Bendy down with the needed attention, then scratching her cold nape with her nails and hearing another deafening rumble coming from outside. The young angel gently snickered and blinked a couple of times, feeling totally unafraid: “Now, that is what I call a real storm! Right? Bendy, what the...?” the black haired girl questioned and immediately spotted the little dancing demon hiding behind her calm form, his pointy tail tightly pressed between his curved legs and his tiny knees shivering in pure terror. No way, was he seriously...? “Bendy, are you... are you afraid of thunder and storms, like Boris is?”.

Snarling and frowning deeply in response, clearly irritated by her insolent insinuation, the minute demon promptly opened his thin lips to growl: “Pff, if I'm scared!? Do I look scared to you, Angel Face!? Pff! Me, Bendy the Dancing Demon, afraid of thunder and storms like some kind of crybaby, or like that wolf? You're insulting my pride and underestimating me, woman! I'm not scared at all, ok? No, no, no, no, no, no, no...” the stubborn star repeated mostly to himself with his slightly high-pitched voice, causing Alice to let out a pretty frustrated groan and cross her pale arms as she patiently waited for the truth. “... no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, maybe a little bit. Ugh, okay fine, yes! You won, I'm scared of thunder and storms, too! Are you happy now?”.

“Nah, not really, I'm just amused.” Alice shrugged it off with a brazen and superior look, laughing in front of her terrified co-worker without shame and with a vicious glint shining in her dark irises, almost enjoying the awkward situation and seeing Bendy so vulnerable and fragile. “What's the matter, Bendy? Afraid of sleeping all alone, in your isolated and lonely room, with that terrible storm right outside the building and those thunders roaring in your ears? Ahah, you're very cute sometimes. I personally think that you should share a bed with someone tonight since you're so scared, little one!”.

After a moment of total silence and wise reflection, a squealing phrase that the beautiful, young angel would have never expected to hear was desperately shouted by the pleading devil, who dropped down on his weak knees and left the girl completely speechless: “Please toots, we both know that we hate each other's guts with all our soul and passion, but can I sleep with you tonight!?”.

… wait, what the fuck?

[facetiousfanboy]

Roommate Romance

Pearl has finally made it into the exclusive Yellow Dorm on her campus but she may find more than she bargained for when she realizes her new roommate is her friend Garnet who she has had a crush on for years. Will the two simply stay as roommates or will they turn into something more? 

Pearl had finally done it. She had made it into the exclusive Yellow Dormitory after three years at Homeworld University. This was one of the best dormitories on the entire campus, complete with multiple common areas sporting wide screen tv's, a shared kitchen and dining room, full cleaning staff, and many other amenities which one could hardly get in the cheaper dorms.

The dorm was headed up by the smart and sophisticated Yvette Diamond, one of the four Diamond sisters who ran the school. The other three had their own dorms as well, each respectively called by a color and all were highly exclusive. The only way anyone made it into these dorms was with money or by being one of the best students on campus. Certainly Pearl had the smarts but despite applying every semester she had been rejected.

Her golden window of opportunity finally presented itself when her twin sister, Amber, had taken up a position as Yvette's assistant. After months of begging and pleading Amber took pity on her and pushed her application through. And so here Pearl was signing into the dormitory checklist and getting her keys. She had to contain her excitement as she walked to the west wing where her room was located.

The only unfortunate part about these dorms was that the students were still required to share their space with another resident. Some were lucky and ended up without any roommates but Pearl was not one of them. She took a deep breath once she reached her room and used the key to open it. She walked in and looked around. The room was large and had two full beds with actual mattresses, the walls of this one were painted a soothing blue and there enough space for her to do be able to move around without getting in her roommates way, which considering she did yoga was a blessing. The bathroom was on the left side next to a closet for her roommate.

The roommate in question was a large black woman with a full head of curly black hair that was done up in an afro. She had her back turned to Pearl and was unpacking her clothes into her dresser. As Pearl looked the woman over she noticed her rather generous curves which were only accentuated by the clothes she wore. She found herself blushing as her gaze lingered on the girls derriere. She had to calm herself down before introducing herself. After she was ready she cleared her throat to get the others attention.

"Hello. I'm Pearl Demer, your new roommate." She was trying to be as friendly as possible. She would probably be spending the next two years with this woman and she wanted to get off to a good start.

The woman stopped what she was doing and suddenly turned around to look at Pearl directly. As beautiful as she had been from the back she was even more so from the front. Of course her curves were distracting but Pearl was more or less used to them. The woman wore some pretty matching rings on each hand, one with a blue stone and the other with a red stone, she also had a pair of reflective sunglasses pushed up on top of her head, but the most striking feature about her were her mismatched eyes. The right one was a deep auburn and the left one was a dark blue, they were still as amazing as the first time Pearl had seen them.

The woman stood there with an expression of slight surprise as she looked Pearl over. "Pearl? What are you doing here?" She spoke with a British accent, the result of growing up in England when very young.

"I, you, we..." She could swear her brain was malfunctioning. "This is my room, I'm here to get moved in. Garnet, you got accepted into Yellow dorm too?"

Garnet nodded. "Yeah, I received the notice a week ago. I was going to surprise you all after I got moved in. But I suppose that's not going to happen now." She looked around. "Surprise."

Pearl felt a little awkward. She had known Garnet since high school after the girl had moved into her town and started attending her school. The two quickly became friends and shared many interesting adventures with Rose and Amethyst, they had all even ended up coming to the same college.

Pearl would have been lying if she said that she didn't have a thing for Garnet, even when she had been in a brief relationship with Rose she had developed feelings for Garnet. She had never admitted this to her of course and now they were going to be sharing a room, and a bathroom, and seeing each other all the time and sleeping in the same room, and close to each other, and maybe touching and... Pearl's brain overheated and she stood there trying to get her systems back online.

Garnet noticed and walked over, waving a hand in front of Pearl's face. "Pearl? Are you okay?"

Pearl blinked her eyes a few times and looked at Garnet. "Um, I'm... So I guess we're roommates huh?" She smiled even though she was screaming on the inside.

Garnet nodded. "Yeah, do you need any help unpacking? I'm just about done unpacking my own things and I can help you if you need it."

Pearl shook her head. "No, no, I'll be alright, thank you though. I'm going to go and get the rest of my bags from the car, I'll be back soon." She dropped the bags she had brought onto her bed and practically sprinted out of the door, trying to get away as quickly as she could.

She was roommates with Garnet Fire, she was roommates with the woman she had been crushing on for nearly six years of her life, she was going to die.

Garnet stared at the door for a few moments after Pearl left. She sat down on her bed and grabbed a pillow. She pressed it against her face and flopped down onto the mattress, screaming into the soft object. She couldn't believe it! She had been put into the same room with Pearl Demer, the most amazing, graceful, spectacular woman she had ever met! She could feel her heart beating at about a thousand beats a minute and felt like jumping for joy, and like curling up in a hole and dying.

Garnet had developed a crush for Pearl when they were both in highschool but had never asked her out because she was in a relationship with Rose, then after that she was too busy with school, then it had just been one thing after the other, but now... There was nothing stopping her, save herself. She dreaded asking Pearl out because she was afraid of what she might say. She was afraid of being rejected.

Garnet didn't know what to do right now. She got up and worked on putting the rest of her clothes away. Maybe if she could stop her mind working and just focus on this everything would become clear. She proceeded with taking her things out of the box and putting them in the dresser. Soon enough she had reached the bottom of the box but she was surprised to discover not clothes at the bottom but her magic eyeball.

She lifted the little novelty from the box and turned it over in her hands. She had used this toy in the past to try and get answers. It worked most of the time, but nothing was ever set in stone. Still I wouldn't hurt to try. She lifted the object to her face and whispered.

"If I ask Pearl out, will she say yes?" She shook the object a few times and then turned it over to see her answer. The message displayed in the lens read "Answer unclear, try again later". Garnet got a little annoyed and was about to shake it again when Pearl walked back in with three boxes on a cart. Garnet quickly tossed the ball into her sock drawer and closed it before the other saw.

"I’m back with the rest of my things." Pearl said, smiling a bit. She started putting her items away, taking the time to organize her half of the room as she liked.

Garnet turned away and tried to focus on getting the last of her things organized. She pulled out her phone next and saw that her moms had texted her to ask how the new dorm was. She chuckled and responded with how it was so far. Her mothers did like to keep tabs on her, but she was grateful for it.

She put her phone away and picked up her syllabus. She read over it to make certain it had the classes she actually wanted and then put it away. She had a few hours to kill before it was time for dinner and she was thinking about going around and checking out all the amenities afforded to her now that she was in this dorm. She looked over to Pearl.

"I'm finished, would you like some help with your things?"

Pearl looked at Garnet, a light blush coloring her features. "Me? No, I'm perfectly alright, just need to get everything organized and tidy. Do whatever you like."

Garnet knew that offering help was probably a lost cause. For as long as she had known Pearl the girl had always been obsessed with cleanliness and symmetry. She wouldn't let Garnet help her, she would just mess it up.

"Alright, I'm going to go and check out the dorm. Text me if you need anything." She walked to the door and gave a short wave before leaving.

Pearl took a few deep breaths once Garnet had left. Her heart was pounding and she was certain the other had heard it. She finished dusting the things on her side of the room and started to unload her luggage. She made certain that everything fit perfectly and was pleasantly organized. She put her clothes away, arranged her desk, put her books onto her desk along with their matching bookends, and finally put a ballet poster on her wall, making certain it was straight before stepping back. She stood there and looked over her side of the room with her hand on her chin. She scanned with her sharp eyes to ensure it was all perfect. Once satisfied she nodded to herself and walked to her desk.

She considered what to do now. She looked at her phone and saw it was only an hour until dinner. Dinner for that night was being held in the dorm's dining room, it was an opportunity for Pearl to meet the rest of her dorm, even Yvette would be there, as would Pearl's sister. She took a breath to keep herself calm and decided to spend the time making herself more presentable.

She grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She wanted to be ready for dinner and ensure she made a good impression.

Garnet returned after walking around the dorm, it was smaller than she had expected, but it was a higher quality place than what she was used to. She had met a couple of other residents and spoken with them briefly, one had even tried hitting on her. She walked into her room and stopped upon hearing the shower running. She determined Pearl was trying to look her best for their first dinner in the dorm. Garnet decided to get ready too.

She used her handheld mirror to fix her makeup, ran her comb through her hair, and pulled on a stylish jacket. She sat in her chair and played a game on her phone while she waited for Pearl to come out.

Pearl emerged eventually. She had done up her short hair and redone her makeup. She had also changed into a light blue dress that matched her eye color and was wearing a pretty golden necklace with a clock on it.

Garnet thought she looked beautiful. Pearl really knew how to make herself even more beautiful and Garnet felt her heart skip a beat when she looked at the pale young woman.

Pearl looked at Garnet as she walked out and smiled softly. "How was your walk around the dorm?" She asked.

Garnet looked at her. "It went well, met some people, saw the amenities. It's a good sized dorm. There's a gym too, it's in the basement."

Pearl was surprised by that. "Really?" She hummed in thought. "You'll have to show me later."

Garnet nodded and stood up. "Are you ready to head down?"

Pearl used a personal mirror to check her appearance once more. "Just about." She made some minor adjustments to her hair and then grabbed a small purse and organized the items she thought she would need for the night inside before putting it over her shoulder. "Now I'm ready."

Garnet went and opened the door for her. Pearl thanked her and walked out with Garnet following closely after. The two of them walked down to the dining room and sat beside each other at the long table which had already been set with plates, silverware, and rolls. There were a couple of others there as well, most notable were a pair of large twins who had flat top haircuts and were listening to music on shared ear buds and a smaller girl with an eye patch over her left eye who seemed upset about something.

Garnet and Pearl sat next to each other at the table. More and more people started to come out and sit at the table until only a handful of seats were left empty. Then she arrived. Yvette was an imposing woman to say the least. She stood at nearly six foot seven inches in heels and was wearing a full golden brown suit with a white shirt and patterned tie. She had a small tie clip with a beautiful yellow diamond on it. Her hair was spiked up and she had a stern face.

She was followed by a thin pale woman who could have been mistaken for pearl if not for her blonde hair and office clothes. The woman was carrying a tablet with her tucked under her arm and seemed to be emulating the woman she followed, adopting a stern face and strong walk.

Pearl had to hold back her laughs as she watched her sister, Amber Demer, approaching the table. Amber had always been the type of person who latched onto the strongest woman she could find and practically became a mini version of them, even in high school she had done this kind of thing. Pearl finally calmed down and took on a neutral expression as Yvette reached the table and stood in front of her chair with her hands behind her back.

"Hello and welcome to Yellow Dorm. Congratulations to you for making the cut and being counted among some of the best students in the school. I am Yvette Diamond, the leader of this dorm, and one of the women who runs this school." She looked around at the group. "By making it in here you have proven you deserve to be here, but make no mistake, if you at any point prove yourself unworthy of being in this dorm or this school I will not hesitate to throw you out faster than you can say "Supreme Authority"." She smiled a little. "Now, let us eat before the food gets cold." She clapped her hands and the chefs emerged from the kitchen with plates of food, setting it down before each person before retreating back into the kitchen.

Everybody began to eat as Yvette and Amber took their seats. Small conversations broke out along the table. Garnet turned to the girl next to her.

"Hello, I'm Garnet Fire, it's nice to meet you."

The woman looked at Garnet and smiles. "Hello, I'm Yana Zircon. I'm a law student." She took Garnet's hand and shook it formally. "Are you new to the dorms?"

Garnet nodded. "Yes, I and my roommate moved in today." She looked at Pearl and moved so Yana could get a look at her.

Yana shook her name. "Hello, Yana Zircon, a pleasure."

Pearl smiled. "Pearl Demer. It's very nice to meet you."

Yana paused and looked Pearl over. "Hold on, have I seen you somewhere before?" She pulled out a pair of glasses from her purse and put them on, then she looked Pearl over carefully.

Pearl blushed lightly. "Well it's possible you've met one of my sisters, we all share a very similar face." She cleared her throat and pointed to amber. "For example my sister amber differs from me only in the color of her hair."

Yana lowered the glasses and looked at Amber, then at pearl. She looked between the two a few times. "You're Amber's sister?" She sounded surprised.

Pearl nodded. "Yes, do you know her?"

Yana chuckled and put a hand over her mouth. "Amber? Oh absolutely! She's a self-important little busybody who likes to act like she owns this dorm. She goes around with that tablet like she's some kind of safety inspector and checks things off." She had to stifle another laugh.

Pearl covered her mouth to stop her own laughs but her delicate shoulders started shaking, giving her away. "Oh my goodness! She used to do the same thing at home!" She struggled to keep her voice down.

Garnet smiled as she watched the two and started to eat. She liked the food, it was delicious, and much better quality than the food she could get at the food court. The others at the table were enjoying it too, many had already finished their first plate and were speaking softly with those around them. The two large women were engaged in some sort of personal talk between themselves, the small angry looking girl with the eye patch had been joined by a couple other women who could have been her sisters and was grunting along as they talked. The few other residents all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Desert was served shortly and then dinner was over. Yvette stood again and clapped her hands to get everybody's attention again.

"Thank you all for joining us for dinner. We hope you enjoyed it and that you will take this time to get to know each other. I have important business to attend to this evening but my assistant Amber will remain in my place. If you have any questions or complaints address them towards her. Goodnight." She left, returning to her office and leaving them alone to do what they would.

Everyone rose and started to mingle, some slipped away before anyone could speak with them while others spoke with each other, learning about their new neighbors. Pearl took the opportunity to approach her sister while everybody was busy. She intended to thank her properly for helping her to get into the dorm. Amber watched her approaching somewhat wearily.

Pearl smiled as she stopped before her sister. "Hello Amber. You're looking well."

Amber nodded and lifted her nose a bit. "Yes, so are you Pearl. Is there something I can help you with?"

Pearl shook her head. "No, I just wanted to come over and thank you for helping me to get into the dorm. It was very nice of you."

Amber blushed lightly and fiddled with the tablet she was holding. "It was the least I could do, you are my sister after all..."

Pearl smiled and nodded. "Thank you regardless. How is it by the way? Being the assistant of Yvette Diamond?"

Amber cleared her throat. "It's very exciting, and also very tiring. She expects one hundred percent all the time, but I'm learning and getting better. She almost complimented me the other day." She gave an awkward smile. "It was wonderful."

Pearl nodded. "I see. Well I'm going to head back to my room I think. It's been a long day and I need my rest. I'll see you again soon." She turned and looked for her roommate.

She spotted Garnet talking to Peridot Olivine, a rather intelligent computer science student who was also clumsy and awkward. She had been in Yellow Dorm since her sophomore year and had always taken it as a source of pride. Pearl was annoyed by her sometimes but she could tolerate her, mostly for Amethyst's sake.

Pearl made her way over to the two in time to hear the end of their conversation.

"-and so I put together a detailed chart explaining how Percy and Pierre are conclusively the best for each other. Amethyst was quite impressed if I do say so myself." She stood there proudly while Garnet just nodded and gave her a thumbs up in approval.

Pearl cleared her throat. "Hello Peridot." She hoped this wouldn't turn into some lengthy conversation about aliens or tv shows, or aliens in tv shows.

Peridot looked at her. "Pearl, I see you finally made it into Yellow Dorm." She snickered. "Only took you three years!"

Pearl felt her eye twitch and groaned. "Oh shush, I'm in that's all that matters."

Peridot held out her hand to Pearl. "I know, and I wanted to extend to you a welcome!"

Pearl was surprised but she took Peridot's hand and shook it. Peridot was smiling broadly, feeling proud of herself.

"Just remember, if you need anything I'm in room 8 in the east wing." She looked at Garnet and gave her a thumbs up to which the large woman nodded her approval. "I'll see you both tomorrow!" She headed towards her dorm, the prosthetic legs she wore squeaked softly as she moved.

Pearl looked at Garnet. "Are you ready to return to our room or did you want to stay and talk a bit more?"

Garnet looked Pearl over, studying her with her gaze briefly before nodding. "If you'd like to go back to our room I'd be fine with that."

Pearl sighed in relief and started back to their room. She wanted to lay down and get some sleep for the next day. Maybe she could even get a full eight hours. That would be wonderful.

They reached their room quickly and changed into their pajamas. Pearl wore a blue night gown while Garnet slipped into a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt with a star on it. They laid down and went to sleep after wishing each other a good night.

Pearl slept well that night and even had a pleasant dream of being a professional ballerina performing on the stage for thousands of adoring fans. But she was awoken abruptly by a knock at her door and groaned as she lifted her head to squint at it. The knock came again and she stumbled out of bed to answer it, checking the clock and seeing it was six in the morning. She hoped there was a good reason for this. She made her way to the door and pulled it open, expecting her sister or Peridot, or something else that would be familiar.

The person standing on the opposite side of the door was a large woman with skin that was dark with patches of white. She was wearing a pair of torn up jeans, a tank-top, and a jacket. She smelled of alcohol and looked like she was about ready to fall over. She looked Pearl over quickly and leaned against the door frame, supporting herself.

"You're not my roommate..." She sounded puzzled until she looked at the door number and squinted, trying to read it out properly. "Does that say 14 or 18?"

Pearl was very confused and a little annoyed. "It's 14... Who are you?"

The girl leaned closer, far too close for Pearl's liking which caused the young woman to blush. "I'm Jasper." She smiled at Pearl now that she got a good look at her. "What's your name cutie?"

Pearl's blush darkened and she had to take a moment to compose herself before speaking. "I'm Pearl."

Jasper smirked. "I'll be seeing you around Pearl." She stood back. "Sleep well." She turned and walked down a few doors, stopping at the right one this time and knocking.

Pearl closed her door and shook her head, trying to make sense of what had happened. She could feel her heart beating faster but attributed it to her surprise and returned to her bed. She laid down and slipped back into a light sleep, hoping she would she able to get through the day without any more surprises.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story and that you will stay tuned for the next parts. Please feel free to tell me what you thought and please like and reblog. 

here’s Part 2

and Part 3

[tehstripe]

1. Lab Partners - Dave/Jade College AU

First finished work for my self-imposed AU list challenge! Based on the prompt “Wait, I actually have a competent lab partner?” from this college AU post. 

Introductory physics.

It was every Biology major's worst nightmare - a hard as hell science class (with an equally difficult lab component) that was a requirement in order to major in any science class, no matter how tangentially related. Dave knew there was a purpose for it - the pre-meds would need to know this stuff for their MCAT, which they'd need to get into a good medical school.

But Dave just wanted to be a paleontologist. He wanted to find cool dead things. He sincerely doubted that knowing the equations for the laws of motion would help him discover and name his very own dinosaur species.

(He had a name ready and picked out and everything. Hella jeffinius would be the next T. rex.)

Still, Dave would just have to endure. He would suffer through this class, get his degree, and then perhaps he could throw all of his physics papers and textbooks into a ritualistic, cleansing bonfire. Rose would probably know how to make something for him, or at least do a convincing job of making up some magic-sounding bullshit to placate him.

Though on second thought, that textbook was expensive. So maybe just the papers, while the book was sent to the ritualistic bonfire that was better known as Ebay dot com.

Dave slumped into the physics lab that fateful day of September, already dreading this entire class. A semester of a TA of unknown quality, with a bunch of other students who were only in here because it was a pre-requisite, doing experiments that didn't mean anything and praying that their data looked the way that it was supposed to. He settled in near the back of the room, picking the lab table as far from the white board as possible, and waited.

Other students began to file in, and Dave recognized many of them as being fellow Biology majors. The uppity pre-med students who were aiming to get into the bed med school took the front of the classroom, which was fine by him. They could distract the TA while he did his best to do as little as possible.

Nobody chose to sit next to him. That was fine. Dave had plenty of friends in college, but he'd met most of them through shared activities, like the semi-ironic anime club he attended with his cousin. None of said friends were also Biology majors. It wasn't much of a problem until moments like this, where he would almost certainly be getting the dregs of the lab partner coffee brew.

And sure enough, he really did get the dregs. The TA was already starting on a general introduction to himself and the course, and all of the seats except for the one right next to Dave were taken. For a moment, he was worried they'd put an odd number of people in the class, and he'd be stuck working by himself or as the third wheel to a group of three - but finally, almost fifteen minutes late, a girl with messy black hair swooped in and gratefully took the open seat next to him.

"Sorry I'm late," she whispered hurriedly. "Did I miss anything important? Probably not, right?"

"Uh..." Dave couldn't claim he'd been paying much attention. "No, I don't think so. Just intro stuff. Probably all in the syllabus."

"Okay. Great!"

Dave found himself torn between trying to be a good student and listen to the TA talk about the course and actually sizing up this new lab partner up. After another reference to the syllabus, he decided the lab partner was at least one hundred times more interesting. (Hey, maybe there was a physics equation that would let him actually calculate how much more interesting she was.)

To be honest, he didn't have high hopes. She was late, which was already a bad sign, and to make matters worse, she was digging through her backpack as though she couldn't find something. That meant disorganized, probably even a little forgetful. He'd have to pray there weren't any group projects involved in this class, then.

More interestingly, he didn't actually recognize her from any of his Biology classes, which seemed to be most of who made up the class. Did she transfer from another school? Was she in a different major? Chemistry, maybe - but then he'd suffered through Intro to Chemistry with all of them.

She was cute, at least. Big, round glasses, and her phone case was decorated in pictures of dogs and paw prints. But cute meant absolutely nothing if she failed the course and dragged him down with her.

The girl glanced to look at him, and Dave quickly looked back up front to the TA, who was continuing to blabber on about the course. He tried to pretend like he didn't notice her staring at him out of his peripheral vision. He wondered what she was thinking of him. Was she hoping that he'd pull her through the lab course, since he actually got here on time? It was hard telling.

Finally, the TA shut up and gave them their instructions. It was a simple lab today - testing to find the strength of gravity, which mostly meant dropping things while getting used to the measurement tools used in the lab. More importantly, it gave Dave a chance to talk with his new partner for the semester.

He turned to her and held out a hand to shake. She gave it a strange look for a moment before tentatively reaching out to shake it herself. Her grip was a little weak, but Dave decided he'd try not to hold that against her. "Hey," he said, giving her the ghost of a smile. "Name's Dave. Who're you? I don't remember seeing you around. Are you a transfer student?"

"My name is Jade!" she said, giving him a much more blatant smile. "And no, I'm not a transfer student. I'm a junior, actually."

His eyebrows went up a little bit. "Huh. Same as me. You a Chem major?"

Jade shook her head, and it caused her voluminous hair to go just about everywhere. God, that was a lot of hair. Dave imagined what would happen if she managed to braid it all - it could probably end up being used as a weapon that way. "No. I'm a physics major, actually!"

Dave stared at her. "Wait. No- wait. You're a physics major. And a junior. And you're taking introductory physics? Like, no offense, but something here isn't quite adding up. Like, shouldn't you be in a more advanced class by now? I thought most of the physics majors found a way out of this class."

Jade rolled her eyes. Clearly, this was a sore spot for her - Dave couldn't say he was terribly surprised. Something wasn't adding up. "Yeah, most of them are able to exempt it with a standardized test or something. But as an international student, my credits didn't transfer over, blah blah, so now I have to take an introductory physics lab to make sure I get all the necessary credits, blah blah." She sighed.

"That sounds pretty dumb," Dave said.

"It is very dumb!" Jade agreed. "But I'm here, so I might as well do my best. It should be an easy 'A', right?"

Dave cocked his head to the side. "Well. As somebody who's not a physics person, I'm not sure I'd say easy. But yeah, we can aim for an A."

Jade laughed, and god that was a good sound. Dave decided he'd like to hear a lot more of that sound. "Well, don't worry! I will help you be a physics person. I like to think I am pretty good at it, and if I'm going to get my PHD in atomic physics some day, then I need to make sure I know how to teach it, too! Maybe by the end of the term, you'll be ready to change majors?"

She gave him a wry smile, and Dave realized very suddenly that he was doomed, but not in the way he was expecting. His grade in physics was going to absolutely rule this year. He would come to every physics lab and he would do every piece of homework and study for every test.

But god. He stared at Jade, with her cute round glasses, wild bushy hair, and bright green eyes. That cute laugh and that charming smile. An IQ that was quite probably double his.

He was so fucking doomed.

[aes-k]

Not My King 1.0

Characters mentioned: Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, you

Summary: Your high school’s heart throb takes a chance at your heart.

Genre: Angst

Words: 2.4K

“Namjoonnie oppa!!”

“He’s so hot!”

“Handsome coming through!!!”

It was the same routine every morning at school.  Namjoon this, Namjoon that, all the girls swooning over his every move like he was some worldwide celebrity that blessed these halls.  The guy could just simply blink and girls would blow it out of proportion and think he’s hitting on them.  Sure, he was attractive, I guess, but I didn’t see him as anything special.  He’d been going to our school since kindergarten like most of us, and he certainly hasn’t changed a bit.  Well, he used to be a little dorky, but of course over the summer, puberty hit everybody like a freight train.

Everyone except me.

On the first day of high school, everyone hugged and reunited with their friends, while some were terrified, already running through the halls to locate where their classes were ahead of time, something I probably should have done.

My first class, Social Studies, was where my crappy year began.

“(Y/N)!”

I knew that voice too well.  A small smile crept across my face as I walked through the upper-classman’s hallway and my dear friend ran to my side, hand over my shoulder, leaning on me like he always did since we were kids playing in the garden making mud pies.

“Hey, Jiminie,” I replied cheerfully, getting a full view of his signature eye smile.  It was definitely one I never grew tired of.

He smiled, taking his right earbud out, wrapping his headset around his phone and pocketing it before returning his attention to me.

“You haven’t changed a bit, (Y/N)!”

“Well, that’s nice to know,” I huffed, rolling my eyes sarcastically, “I look the same as I did when I was twelve while everyone else suddenly became hot.”

Jimin stuck out his bottom lip in response, trying to sympathize but also knowing that he was amongst the students who drank some magic handsome water over the past three and a half months.

His hair was styled, which I’ve never seen him do in the twelve years I’ve known him, and he tried harder than usual to dress nice, wearing black skinny jeans that were ripped at the knee, black worn-out converse, a white t-shirt, and a light blue plaid shirt that he left open.  I also noticed he got his cartilage pierced, which I never imagined he’d actually do, since he cried when we got our ears pierced together at age four. 

I did have to admit, he was pretty good looking, but I knew it’d never happen between us two.

“Hey, do we have any classes together?” he changed the subject, knowing I’d eventually get butt hurt somewhere down the line.

“We’e already been through this Jiminie, we have three out of eight classes together, pabo.”

“Aish, this is what I get for choosing a dance major!” he scolded himself.

I shrugged and patted him on the back, which felt more full and toned than the last time I saw him.  “At least we have Social Studies, English, and Science together.”

“Right.  Hey, have you seen Namjoon, yet?  I was supposed to meet with him before class.”

“No, I honestly thought he moved or something,” I admitted, which was partially true.  He was so quiet and reserved I always forgot the poor guy was even in our graduating class.

“Well, I better go find him, good luck on today,” Jimin smiled, hugging me before running towards his hallway.

I sighed as I approached my locker, arms full of books and a pen sitting in my mouth, careful not to rip or damage my schedule which contained my combination as I attempted to unlock the lock, but froze once I felt another hand brush mine.

I looked up and felt my arms go weak as I made eye contact with a rather tall, handsome guy that I hadn’t recognized before.  Neither one of us dared to speak, but instead took in the complete awkward air that surrounded us.

His skin was tan and free of any scars or blemishes, his nose cute as a button, not too skinny, but not too big for his face, either.  Bleached blonde locks accompanied him, styled in messy, voluminous spikes, which kind of reminded me of a 90′s boy band, but he somehow pulled it off.  His eyes were a deep brown, but had a grey tone to them when the light hit them in the right place, and his sense of style was just as good as--maybe better than--Jimin’s.

“Y-Yes?” I mumbled, struggling to keep my books from falling from my arms.

“This is my locker,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he half-frowned, showcasing the cute dimples he also had. 

Seriously, how is this guy so perfect?

“Actually, it’s mine,” I replied, voice half muffled with my pen still between my teeth.  “See,” I held my schedule up to him as he squinted to read it, embarrassment flashing across his face a few seconds afterward.

“Oh.”

Okay, problem addressed, now can I set my books down before my whole body collapses?

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I don’t think I can hold these books any longer.”

“You should get yourself a strong man to hold those for you,” he mumbled, but was purposefully loud enough for me to hear.

“Excuse me?” my eyes bulged.

“Are you single?”

“You seriously better leave before I punch you and your cheeks swell so hard you won’t have those little dimples of yours, anymore,” I threatened, shoving him out of my way to finally unlock my locker and throw my books inside, leaving a sting in my forearms, but I wouldn’t dare show it.

“Cute,” he huffed, walking towards me with hooded eyelids and a smirk on his plump lips, towering over me as I backed against the neighboring locker, his hand above my shoulder near my head.

“Call me sometime, princess,” he whispered, taking my schedule out of my numb hand and ripping off a corner, writing his number on it, and handing it back to me before walking away.

Well, he was cute until he opened his mouth.

My knees locked and grew numb, causing me to slightly fall, closing my locker in the process as I tried to piece together what just happened.  What stranger just randomly decides to hit on someone, especially after an awkward moment like that?

He was cute, though, I’ll give him that.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t hear the sound of the bell to go to class sound as students began jogging through the hallways to find the right destination.  I took a deep breath to ease my conscious from my eventful morning when I realized I had to re-open my locker, which I knew would take me a couple tries.  Luckily I knew where my first class was.

I pulled out my schedule for my combination, only to find it was completely ripped off.  

“That asshole!” I yelled, cowering as soon as I realized what I’d just said, hoping a teacher wasn’t around to hear it.

I scramble to reach into my pocket for the crumbled up paper with the mystery guy’s phone number on it, barely able to read it underneath the digits written over it in heavy ink.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in annoyance, trying to open my lock by memory, but it was no use.  Hell, I couldn’t even remember what color underwear I was wearing.

I ran to the counselor’s office, slicing my way through the ocean of students going in every direction possible, only to find a line standing outside of his door, sighing in defeat as I accepted the fact I’d be late for my very first class of the school year.

Go, me.

“And those are the materials you’re going to need for this class.  Also don’t forget we are getting a seating chart so don’t get too--”

I slammed the door open, all eyes on me as I bent over to catch my breath, victoriously holding up my schedule with a bright pink sticky note attached to it with my locker combination written.

“I made it,” I breathed, straightening up and realizing the super embarrassing situation I had just created for myself.

I glanced around the room as heat rose to my cheeks.  I was never one for crowds, that’s for sure.  Like that time in first grade when I had one line in a play we put on about the fifty states and I was so nervous I threw up on California.  Or the time it was my turn to do the pledge of allegiance and I said ‘please flace the fag’ instead of ‘face the flag’ over the intercom for the entire school to hear and it embarrassed me so much I stopped right then and there.

I wiped my palms that were beginning to coat in sweat onto my dark wash skinny jeans as the teacher cleared her throat, motioning me to the front of the class and for the others to rise as well.

“As I was saying,” she emphasized, tilting her glasses in my direction, “I will put together your seating chart for the semester.  Please do get along with each other.”

She sat us until there were four of us left, four desks left, at the back corner..

Shit.

“Park Jimin, next is Jeon Jungkook, Kim Namjoon, and (Y/N) in the back corner.”

Today couldn’t get any worse...

I groaned as Jimin shot me a worried look, totally oblivious to this morning’s events, but I’m pretty sure if he’d known he would have either said he would have done it if he weren’t my best friend, or he would beat the guy up, which I felt like he didn’t quite deserve...

Yet.

We sat down in silence as the teacher ranted on about her classroom rules and handed out the syllabus, none of us really paying attention, especially not the mystery guy, who was making it more than obvious that he was staring at me.

I rested my cheek on my left palm and tapped the eraser of my pencil against my desk in attempts to ignore him, but his stare was piercing through whatever barrier I had, making it almost impossible to not feel his eyes.

“What do you want?” I groaned, crossing my arms in annoyance.

“You gonna call me later?” he smirked.

Those damn dimples.

“I’m not going to call you at all, not now, not ten minutes from now, not ten hours from now, not ever,” I hissed.

“Why not?” he pouted, sticking out his bottom lip.

“Why would I be interested in someone so pushy and annoying?  I don’t even know you, you haven’t even told me your name,” I explained and his brows shot up.

“Have you forgotten me already?  It’s only been summer, not twenty years, (Y/N).”

“What, am I supposed to know you?”

“I’ve been going to school here since kindergarten... You know... Kim Namjoon...” he hinted, seeming a bit shocked that I had no clue who he was.

I froze, jaw agape as I scanned all his features closely.  He couldn’t be?  There’s no way this is THE Kim Namjoon... How did someone so dorky and chubby in the face turn into.. this?!

“No fucking way...” I mumbled, receiving a shush from fellow classmates.

“Don’t tell me you just remembered who I am?”

“No,” I collected myself, “I just remembered what color underwear I’m wearing.”

He scoffed and leaned in towards my ear and I frowned in disgust at the close contact, taking in his cologne that smelled like an off brand of Axe.

“I’d love to take them off of you,” he whispered.

Before I could retaliate, the bell rang and he rose, exiting the classroom and ridding himself from my sight.

A week passed since then, and he still seemed to be the hottest topic (and guy) that roamed the school, and despite all the attention he seemed to receive, he never returned any of it.  Thankfully, he had left me alone since that day, not speaking to me unless it was necessary, which was nice, but I admit it made Social Studies rather boring.

We watched a video in class today, and he didn’t show up, so I spent the whole duration passing notes to Jimin about his newfound crush on new student Jungkook, who seemed to be quite timid, someone I’d never see Jimin be interested in due to his firework-like personality, but I guess opposites attract.

Fifteen minutes into the video, I excused myself to go to the restroom, which was actually an excuse to just roam the empty halls and escape from eternal boredom, which didn’t really turn out to be that much better.  It was still the beginning of the school year, so the walls remained rather blank, and students didn’t dare skip classes at this time of the year, making sure not to let their grades slip until it didn’t really matter, but I’m pretty sure if I failed Social Studies due to skipping a video, my parents would see it just as ridiculous as I.

I stopped at my locker before returning to class to check my cell phone, which had a low battery, no service, and was dry of notifications, as usual.  I never knew why I ever expected anything different, especially not before school, but a girl can dream, right?

I sighed and began to close my locker until a bright pink sticky note attached to the inside of my locker door caught my eye, still somewhat stuck in the upper slots like it had been snuck into my locker by a passerby.  At this time of the year, I expected it to be a Yearbook advertisement or cheer leading tryouts, or some information list about Homecoming, but as I opened it, I was introduced to something completely different.

‘Princess, I see you still haven’t called me.  Why do you do this to me?  I’m waiting...’

Damn you, Kim Namjoon.