#population notes class 9

[megwritesriddles]

Sweetest Nectar ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Being at Hogwarts at university-level had it's perks, such as unsupervised days in the greenhouse with Neville. Reader finds herself in an unfortunate position thanks to a flower in the greenhouse and Neville has to figure out how to help while being a gentleman and preserving their friendship.

Tags: Sex pollen, Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected sex, Begging, Friends to lovers, Minor yearning, HogwartsUniversity!AU, Post-war/Eighth year, Virgin!Neville (he just is, I don't make the rules), Too much backstory, Sentient Hogwarts, Silly fluffy ending.

Word count: 11.1k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: Can you see why I've been gone so long??? This had zero business being 11k words but I'm a chronic overexplainer so here we are!! Skip the first 9 paragraphs if you don't care about any worldbuilding. Continuing my 'Neville gets muscular as he gets older' agenda as per. The last line is so dumb... Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

P.S. this is technically day 23 of my kinktober but it's january so lets not talk about that

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Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways, with its own indecipherable motives. This much had always been true but was especially recognised lately. Once rebuild efforts had concluded after the war, Professor McGonagall, like every headmaster before her, bar Severus Snape, had sent out invitations to recent graduates to join the Higher Education program, a two-year program that would prepare its students to become a professor in any chosen field, subject to meeting entry requirements of the course. Demand for this program was higher than it ever had been, so many recent Hogwarts graduates felt like they had missed so much time at Hogwarts, that they were willing to come back on the program just to make up for lost time. At first, McGonnagal thought of shutting the whole thing down or at least raising entry requirements for joiners; there wasn’t exactly enough room in the designated Higher Education quarters for all the applicants. And though the regular student population had dwindled significantly over the course of the war (best not thought about too hard), it seemed wrong to try and room adults with 15-year-olds just to fit everyone in. The night before she intended to send out the letters of amendment to the required marks, McGonagall felt bizarrely compelled to go on a stroll around the castle, feeling drawn down a route she didn't often find herself going. There, she found a brand new door, behind which were brand new living quarters, just big enough for all the applicants. Although she should have been relieved, McGonagall was initially rather frustrated by this. Why now did the blasted old castle decide it could build, when nearly all summer long volunteers had been slaving away to restore the castle? The windows glittered as if to wink at her, she decided that the daft old thing must have liked the attention. McGonagall found herself relieved, she too felt that the recent graduates were not ready for the career world quite yet, having had not only their final year of study lost to the war, but the years before that tarnished by looming threats and incompetent bumblers. Also, there was an urgent need for qualified teachers of magic, so the more the merrier, even if most of them would only use it as a springboard into something else. 

You had always been a shoo-in either way, although you never got to sit your NEWTs, the honourary grades you were given were stellar, supported by fantastic results in your OWLs and overall fantastic conduct in class. The blemishes on your record from the Carrow's note-taking were wiped, leaving your record squeaky clean. You received your acceptance letter and list of supplies and felt like you were eleven again. Everyone was required to specialise in a subject, and while you'd had a couple in which you had adequate grades which you might have chosen, you went for Herbology in the end, as it was something you loved.  In all honesty, you liked Professor Sprout the best and were eager to train under her. 

As soon as you received your letter, you wrote to Neville. There was no doubt in your mind that he would be studying under Professor Sprout alongside you, despite not even knowing if he had applied to the program initially. He quickly confirmed this suspicion when he wrote back to you, saying he had a sneaky feeling about you as well. The two of you had become fast friends in the sixth year, both being in Advanced Herbology. You'd known each other a little here and there before that, but in this class, your friendship truly formed. The class was very small, as the interest in Advanced Herbology was low, most careers only required a decent grade in standard Herbology, so even those with interest had to prioritise other things for the sake of their future, such as Potions or Charms. There were only the two of you and a pair of Slytherin girls who, despite seeming genuinely very passionate about the subject, refused to converse with the two of you and whispered amongst themselves all the time. This was fine with both of you, as you had each other, taking time to study together, walking to and from class, and working efficiently during any pair work. The two of you had been ripped apart during the war, you had to steer clear of Hogwarts for your safety, and Neville, being intensely monitored by the Carrows at the time, refused to write to you and risk revealing your location to them, so you had been out of contact for quite a while. You wrote to him again on his birthday and had been corresponding a little since, but things felt slightly stunted. You hadn't seen each other in so long and Neville was never the best when it came to socialising. 

Arriving at Hogwarts once again had been intensely bittersweet. So many good and bad memories to try and process all at once, it felt overwhelming. You'd had to step outside during the sorting but found yourself far from alone out there. So many people were broken. You apprehensively made your way over to Hermione and said hello. She pulled you into a tight hug, as you hadn't seen her for a long time either. You listened as she explained about Harry and Ron, that they didn't want to go into teaching, and though she'd explained over and over that most people that do the program don't end up teaching, they'd still refused to come. Trying to make the most of it, she tells you it'll be nice to spend time with other friends for once and you nod along. She is somehow specialising in three subjects, she'd wanted to do more of course, but it hadn't been allowed. Trust Hermione to work herself to the bone happily. You'd made it to your room later that night, a private room with an en-suite, which felt awfully fancy for Hogwarts, and settled in. Being back was an odd feeling, you could see the cracks in the stone everywhere you looked, there was pain everywhere, yet so much good to try and find.

To your complete relief, when you started your first day in the Greenhouses, things fell back into place with Neville instantly. At first, you'd greeted him with a hug, which had been awkward as he hadn't been expecting it, but very pleasant once he figured out what was going on. Soon after this though, as Professor Sprout set you her first task (to prepare some plants for her third years), things were back to as they were, perfect. You worked together well, talking and laughing easily, and though occasionally the chat went sour and the mood fell, this was happening with everyone lately, a byproduct of the war, there was so little to talk about that wasn't tarnished that it was a wonder the two of you were able to laugh as much as you were. Neither of the two girls from advanced Herbology were there, and although this initially saddened you both, you conceded that there could be many reasons for it. There weren’t many Slytherin returners, there never had been, but after the war especially, the turnout was pathetic. Most Slytherins avoided their peers after the war for fear of ostracism, which was fair as people had some pretty bad opinions on them but sad because there were several Slytherins who hadn’t been on the wrong side of history who were still facing hostility. 

The course was a lot of independent study of assigned texts and essay-writing, but all day on a Tuesday and half a day on a Thursday, the two of you were in the smaller greenhouse behind the ones for teaching, working on various projects, which also sometimes required your attention out of teaching hours. This greenhouse was set aside initially for research purposes at Sprout’s predecessor's request, but now was being used to train those in the higher education program. Despite this greenhouse being smaller than the two nearer the grounds, it was still fairly large and complex. Upon entering, you came into a little cloakroom, where you would have to don your aprons and gloves before entering, with a sink in the corner for washing up when leaving and entering. The next room was the main growing area, growing various plants that weren’t dangerous but were still perhaps best kept out of the reach of the younger students. There was a long wooden workbench in the middle of the room for potting and taking notes and whatever else you might need to do. Off of the opposite end of this room, there were three doors, one that led to a small room which was always kept humid and at tropical temperatures, one which was always kept cool and dry and one lockable room in which more dangerous plants were kept, such as venomous tentacula or fanged geraniums, only to be accessed with Professor Sprout supervising. 

Professor Sprout would only tutor the two of you on Thursday, so with the exception of the first few weeks, the two of you were entirely alone from 9 am to 4 pm on a Tuesday. Although it sounded a little salacious when you told friends, the truth was that most Tuesdays you were both too busy for anything to happen. Not that anything would of course, but certain assumptions were made when people heard you were alone together for hours with what they assumed was an easy subject. Mostly your days were full of tending to the plants, having to frequently refer to your notes for how each should be cared for (how much water? what temperature should the water be? do they require singing to?), observing any plants that were the subjects of your essays and preparing plants so they would be safe for lessons with younger year groups. 

It’s a Tuesday like any other. Neville is carefully planting some seeds across the workbench from where you’re delicately pruning a particularly active flitterbloom bush, setting the clippings aside to send to the potions department later. One of Neville’s research subjects is observing what methods of growth acceleration work the best and cause the least damage to the plants they’re applied to. He has been planting, growing and replanting dittany over and over for weeks now, but was still gathering more data as he came across more and more methods to test, and each had to be tested several times over to rule out external factors. 

Your research was on the merits and drawbacks of pruning, and which plants took best and worst to the practice. Pruning was useful as it allowed more ingredients to be obtained from individual plants for potioneering purposes, but generally was thought to be harmful to the overall health of the plant. You were attempting to write a definitive list of which of the 25 most common plants used in potions could be pruned and which couldn’t, which to your surprise had hardly been researched before as the belief of its harmfulness had permeated the field since 1870 and most Herbologists had steered clear of it since. Your research seemed to be proving it wasn’t nearly as harmful as thought.

The two of you chat idly as Neville uses a pipette to apply various growth potions to the soil of his newly planted seeds and you carefully measure the regrowth of a stem of the flitterbloom bush that you pruned a few weeks ago, struggling as the stem swayed about. 

“I can’t believe Hermione talked Ron and Harry into actually joining the course next term,” Neville hums, extracting exactly 5 millilitres of potion from a bottle with his pipette. You scoff. 

“For real this time? They keep saying that yet nothing ever comes of it,” you shake your head, scribbling down your measurement on the parchment beside you.

“Yes, really, two new rooms have appeared in the boys' dorms with their names on them, if Hogwarts knows, it must really be happening,” his tongue sticks out slightly between his teeth as he concentrates on dropping the liquid right in the middle of the little pot. Not wanting to throw his research, you wait until he’s done to reply.

“Perhaps Harry and Ron don’t even know it themselves,” you joke, making Neville chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the castle decided it for them,” he carefully pushes the cork back into the top of the potion bottle. “The castle is quite odd lately, perhaps it has whatever its equivalent of brain damage is from the war, it’s acting much more blatantly,”

“How so?” you tilt your head in his direction, soothing your finger over the agitated stem that you just had to hold taut for measuring. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories of people getting stuck in rooms with the people they like, doors literally disappearing until they confess or otherwise!”  Neville laughs, carefully moving his pots back to their designated spot on the windowsill. With his back turned, you can’t help but glance at the door despite yourself, wondering if it’s still there. It is. You quickly avert your eyes from the door as he turns back toward you. “It’s why there’s suddenly all these couples popping up, sure the castle has always been a little cheeky, but never so obvious before, it all started with the higher education wing appearing overnight and it’s seemingly been madness since,” he shakes his head, picking up another batch of pots containing little sprouts at various heights that he has to measure. 

“It’s sweet how many people have liked each other and not even known… has it always been people who like each other stuck together?” you ask, stroking your quill, feeling the soft tufts beneath your fingers. 

“As far as I’ve heard, each time it’s happened it’s ended well,” Neville shrugs, rifling through his bag for his measuring tape. You glance at the door again, seeing it still there. Unrequited, you figure, that door will stay right where it is. 

“I wonder where the brain of the castle is if it even has such a thing… it is sentient in some ways, so there must be an equivalent right?” you ponder as he loudly removes his books from his bag and thuds them onto the workbench. 

“The room of requirement? For some reason that comes to mind… a fire in your brain can’t be good,” he chuckles, his voice slightly strained as he peers under the table for the offending measuring tape.

“You can borrow mine,” you suggest softly as he comes up with nothing. 

“No it’s fine, you need it,” he waves his hand dismissively, standing up from his stool. “I’ll fetch mine from my room, I’m fairly certain I know exactly where it is on my desk, can’t believe I forgot it again,” he grumbles the last part to himself. “Be back in 15, watch my plants,” he smiles, although you can tell from his sheepish look that he’s embarrassed to have forgotten something yet again. Luckily, you could head back to fetch things at any time at your level, no longer having to ask to go to the toilet or anything like that. There was no one here to ask. You smile back, watching as he enters the cloakroom. A few moments later, you see his heavily blurred figure heading up the hill through the heavily rippled glass of the greenhouse windows. In the newfound quiet, you return to your work, hearing only the spray of simulated rain in the tropical growing room. 

Finally finished with the flitterbloom, you stand to retrieve your next plant, a valerian bush, for pruning. As you move to stand and step forward, you feel an odd pressure at your ankle. Stepping forward anyway, you realise too late that your foot is hooked on a support between the legs of your stool, sending both you and the stool off balance and toppling over toward the room-length counter that holds all the various plants. Reflexively, your body twists and your arms come up to shield your head as you thud loudly into the solid wood surface, causing a choir of wobbling pots, luckily with no ensuing crash of broken terracotta, you had to count your blessings somewhere. A dull pain throbs through your body, starting from the side that crashed against the counter. Thud! A yelp rips from you as the stool, still twined with your leg, falls onto your thigh. Luckily, it is only light and will leave a small bruise at most, your side colliding with the counter on the other hand…. You shut your eyes tight, feeling utterly embarrassed about what just happened despite being alone. You weren’t normally this clumsy and you were sure you looked a mess, an undignified heap on the floor, too shocked to stand up or even open your eyes yet. In the permeating silence, you sit on the cold stone floor and try not to cry, from the shock more than the pain. 

A violent sneeze overtakes your body, the action of it hurting your side. You sniff and cough, dust seemingly surrounding you. You must have jostled some old dusty plants that hadn’t been touched in a while when you collided with the surface. Surrendering to the coughs and sniffs that wracked through your pained body, you wait it out until the dust subsides, grabbing your bruised side as you double over with violent sneezes and sputters. Finally, a deep breath of clean air, you sag against the counter and try to gather yourself now you can breathe properly once more.

“It was exactly where I thought it was…” The door from the cloakroom creaks open in the silence as Neville enters, clutching his measuring tape. “I can be so scatterbrained,” he huffs, his eyes sweeping the room at the height he expects you to be. In embarrassment your eyes squeeze tighter, not wanting him to see the mess you’d gotten yourself into. Upon not seeing you, he glances around for any evidence you might be in one of the back rooms, though not thinking of a reason you would be. 

“Down here,” you squeak, your voice hoarse from coughing. The words itch your throat and you splutter slightly once more as he rounds the workbench and spots you on the ground. You give a sheepish smile, finally having opened your eyes. It’s painfully obvious from your stool-adorned leg what happened, you just hope he doesn’t think any less of you. He shouldn’t, he has a reputation for being clumsy himself, but you can’t help but worry. “I fell,” you rasp pathetically. 

“Are you alright?” he surges toward you and kneels, immediately examining your head for any bumps, rubbing over your scalp gently. The action makes your cheeks heat up, but you try to ignore it. 

“I’m okay, I landed on my side,” you reply as he carefully removes the stool from around your leg and stands it back up beside the workbench. His arms wrap around you and he carefully lifts you to stand, you yelp as the movement stretches your side and he shushes you gently. 

“It’s alright, there we go… just—,” he holds you steady until you’re stable on your feet. When he lets go of you, it feels oddly painful deep in your stomach, but you brush that off. 

“Thank you,” you whisper shyly. 

“Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” he asks, bringing his hand up to feel your skull once more, worrying over whether you might have been badly injured. You lean slightly into his hand without meaning to.

“No I promise, it was just my side and my thigh,” you insist, inwardly wishing he’d brush his hand against those spots to check them. For a moment his hand moves like he might, but he stops himself. 

“If you’re sure,” he inspects you once more, hovering behind you as you sit back down on the stool, trying to brush past this whole incident. “Can I grab your plant for you?” he offers. “Which were you going for?” you want to complain, but his eyes are wide and earnest and you know he wants to help.

“The valerian… and could you pop the flitterbloom back for me?” you request, hesitantly testing the tender skin where the stool collided with your thigh, wincing at the throb of pain that followed your touch. Neville dutifully returns the flitterbloom to the counter, then places the valerian bush before you. Behind you, you hear him gently pushing some of the pots that had moved when you smashed into the counter back into place. You flush and keep your head down, pretending to inspect the valerian bush but not being able to focus. Your brain feels a little fogged up, you assume from the shock of the fall. Not wanting to alarm Neville in any way, you grab your tape measure and pretend to measure the leaf regrowth. He quietly moves around the workbench, bringing his pots over to your side of the bench and sitting down beside you to resume his work, his brows furrowed in concern for you. “Really, I’m okay,” you chuckle, but the weakness of your voice does little to reassure him.

“It’s better if I sit here, just in case something happens,” he says, more firmly than he usually says anything. That side of him was new since the war, this ability to stick up for himself in smaller situations. He’d always known how to stick up for the greater good, but little things like this, he would allow himself to be walked all over, too scared of losing a friend. Now that he has more confidence, he’s not so afraid to dispute his nearest and dearest, knowing you’re unlikely to end your friendship with him over this. And if you did, it would be weird and not his fault anyway. The tone of voice is also on the newer side and it stirs something in your belly.

You sit side by side working on your respective projects. Well, Neville is working, you’re more just going through the motions while your mind hovers elsewhere, not allowing you to focus on what you’re meant to be doing. Maybe you were concussed… but you hadn’t hit your head during the fall, so what was wrong? You take a few deep breaths, trying to slow your heart which still seems to be beating slightly fast. Slowly but surely, your body starts to feel a little warm. You glance to make sure the door to the tropical room hasn't opened as your cardigan starts to feel a little stuffy. No matter where you look in the room, you can’t find any source of excess heat. A puff of breath breaches your lips, you’re growing uncomfortable now, the heat only seems to rise and rise. With great unnecessary difficulty, you wrestle yourself free of your cardigan, throwing the wretched thing on the ground beside you with a grunt. Neville gives you a confused look, but not yet seeing anything obviously wrong with you, returns to his measurements. There is relief from the warmth that was engulfing you, but only for ten minutes at most, as soon you are sweltering once more. An awful voice at the back of your head tries to convince you to throw off all of your clothes, but you keep it together, merely squirming in your seat, rubbing your thighs together to try and quell the growing ache in your belly that your mind isn’t quite registering yet. In a last-ditch effort, you sip some water from your lukewarm water bottle, the relief it provides is even shorter than before. Your head whips around now, searching fruitlessly once more for the source of this despicable heat, but finds nothing. Neville is unfazed beside you, still wearing his sweater and looking perfectly comfortable. The only thing you can think of is that Neville must be radiating the heat, as nothing else could explain your sudden discomfort. You reach your hand out toward him, trying to gauge if it gets warmer the closer it gets to his side. This finally catches his attention and when he looks up, he’s met with your flushed clammy face and dilated pupils.

“Whoa! Is everything alright?” he sputtered, leaning back slightly as if worried you’re contagious. This upsets you and you let out an unseemly whine.

“I’m hot,” you huff, pushing your hair back from your face to get more cool air on your skin. “Really hot,” Neville’s eyes brush over you for a moment as he considers just how hot you are, before promptly snapping himself out of it.

“You do look a little… feverish,” he agrees, reaching out and touching the back of his hand to your forehead. You lean forward into the touch, moaning softly. Your skin is burning and slightly tacky with sweat, which makes Neville frown deeply. How could you have suddenly developed such a terrible fever? He pulls his hand back, but you immediately whine and claw at his arm to pull his hand back. Too baffled to protest, he lets you pull his hand to your cheek and watches you lean against it happily. He gently runs his thumb over your cheekbone before catching himself. “Are you alright?” he enquires once more, keeping his voice soothing.

“Don’t stop touching me,” you pout, looking up at him through your lashes with a look that is wholly inappropriate for an academic premises. He swallows.

“Wha-what?” he stammers, watching as you nuzzle against his hand.

“It helps the heat… don’t stop,” you whimper, reaching out to try and pull him closer by his sweater, but not being strong or focused enough to do it. This failure pulls another whine from you. Neville’s mind reels completely and he has to look away from you to compose himself, though he keeps your cheek cradled in his palm. What was going on with you? Were you ill? His eyes find the spot where he’d found you on the floor just earlier in his attempts to avoid the sultry unexplainable look you were giving him. “I need you to touch me,” you mewl, making him shiver.

“I’m not sure that’s–” he cuts himself off when his eyes land on the plant on the counter above where you fell. Lamprocapnos libidinosus, also known as the dripping heart, a magical relative of the bleeding heart flower in the muggle world. A common ingredient in lust potions and aphrodisiacs, highly dangerous in the wrong hands due to the potent amorous effects of its spores. Neville vaguely remembers Professor Sprout's warnings that one of the PhD students was being allowed to grow it for research and to steer completely clear of it. A warning he’s sure you would have headed if you hadn’t been tumbling toward it. Even from afar, he notices a couple of burst spore pods. “Oh no…” he mumbles to himself, dropping his hand from your cheek. You immediately protest but he stops you short. “When you fell… you didn’t happen to breathe in any dust, did you?” his voice shakes slightly, this cannot be happening to you. He always thought they shouldn’t have the plant growing in this greenhouse, even if only experienced herbologists were allowed in. Accidents happened as he knew all too well, and now his vague fears had become a biting reality.

“Yeah, why?” your voice is soft and sweet as you paw at him, trying to get him to hug you, or presumably something more. Neville flushes brightly and shoots upright, making a mad dash for his textbooks, still on the workbench from when he’d been searching through his bag. You wail at his absence, feeling the heat that had reduced to a low simmer return to a full boil. “Please…” you sob at him, not even knowing why you want what you want. “Just hold me, comfort me,” The look in your eye has him breaking, and if he remembers what little he’s read about the plant, you must be rather uncomfortable right now. He returns to your side and allows you to cling to his arm, bumping your head into his shoulder like a loving cat, while he frantically searches for the information he needs to help you. After several panicked flick-throughs, he locates the page.

Lamprocapnos libidinosus; also known as the Dripping Heart or the Flower of Lust.

At the top of the page is information entirely useless to this cause, the best season to plant, how much light is needed, etcetera, but finally Neville finds what he’s looking for under the ‘uses’ section. It’s tough to focus on reading when you’re practically trying to get under his sweater with him, pushing the knit material slightly up his side, your fingertips brushing his abdomen and making him jolt. He pushes your hand away but pulls you into a hug to silence your outcries, which you’re more than happy to sink into. He’s hugged you plenty of times so he pretends this is perfectly normal as he wills his brain to digest what's in front of him on the page. It’s hard to keep this pretending up as he can hear you sniffing him and moaning deeply at the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat, which in this state only fuels your arousal, acting as a pheromone, worsening your need.

He skims the section frantically. Inhalation of the spores will lead to overwhelming feelings of lust even in small doses, however, the dose may affect who this lust is directed toward. Smaller doses will only worsen lust toward people already lusted after by the infected person, while larger doses will cause these feelings of lust to latch onto whoever is around, no matter prior relationships. The infected person will pursue their object of affection at any cost, they will be unable to focus on anything but the lust that has overtaken them. These feelings of lust, if left untreated, can cause extreme discomfort in the infected person, high fevers, intense symptoms of arousal (such as fluid secretions), shivers, brain fog and other symptoms varying by person and dose. The only way to cure the infected person of these symptoms and return them to full faculties is to have them reach climax.

It seems that you have chosen him as the object of your affections. Neville looks down at you as you hug him tight, continuously trying to slip your hand beneath his jumper. Out of selfish curiosity, he heads for the plant to try and determine how large of a dose you got and whether you may have already experienced feelings of lust toward him before the effects of the plant. When he moves away, you practically sob.

“Please don’t!” you wail, diving for him and into his arms once more. For now, you seemed to be mostly content just being held in his arms, and it’s clear you find it painful when separated from him for even a moment, so Neville has to relent. He delicately lifts you, and although having you wrap your legs around his hips hadn’t been a part of his plan, he supposes it does help keep you steady. He blushes brightly as he walks over to inspect the flower. He’s never held anyone like this, so intimately. Your skirt rides up where your legs wrap around him and he has to tear his eyes away before his thoughts become too inappropriate. You like the sight as much as he does. “You’re so strong,” you purr in his ear, your voice much lower than normal. He shivers and you feel it, the knowledge you’re having some effect on him overtakes your lust-addled brain. 

“Th-thank you, I’ve been exercising a lot since the war,” he mumbles, counting all the burst pods on the plant. He counts five, but he’s not sure if that’s considered a large dose or not. Probably, but the pods do look rather small.

“Mmm, it’s so hot…” you purr, trying to wriggle against him. Neville’s face turns red and he practically drops you, but holds you steady so you don’t fall once more once your feet touch the ground.

“Don’t say stuff like that!” he yelps.

“It’s true,” you pout. “I need you,” you try to hop up into his arms again but he holds you firmly on the ground, practically shaking. Really, this should’ve been a dream come true for him, he’d had feelings for you practically since the day the two of you met, but he felt disgusted with himself for every wave of excitement that passed over him. You were burning up, your cheeks brightly flushed, a deep ache at the pit of your belly and an ever-growing wetness in your underwear. All you could think about was how it might feel to have Neville soothing the fire inside you with deep strong thrusts, you moan aloud, if you focus enough you can almost feel it. “I bet you’re big, I bet you’d fill me up so well,” you murmur, looking up at him seductively.

“I- Merlin…” Now Neville feels overheated, he tries to push you away a little but you aren’t letting him. The image of filling you up won’t leave his head no matter how much he commands it to. It doesn’t help that you’re now trying your best to reach his jaw to kiss it. 

“Please…” you beg once more. “I need it so badly…” his resistance crumbles for a moment and his hands drop from your sides, allowing you to rush forward and attach your lips to his jaw. His eyes slip shut and he whimpers as you hold him close and lavish his neck and jaw with attention. His arms wrap around you, hands gently skimming your back as you continue to pepper him with kisses. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, your hand dropping to the buckle of his belt. The feeling of you tugging at his belt makes his eyes shoot open. He realises in a sudden flood of shame what he’s allowed you to do. You’ll hate him for this once you’re back to normal. He grabs your shoulders harshly and pushes you away. You squeak as he sits you on one of the stools, your eyes filling with tears at the rejection. You’d been so close to what you needed, and now with this newfound distance from him, you were in pain once more, a horrible throb in your stomach. 

“Listen to me,” he breathes shakily. “We can’t do this, you’ll regret it as soon as it’s over,”

“No, I–”

“You’re not in your right mind, you don’t know what you actually want,” he asserts again, reminding himself more than anything. He takes a deep breath and thinks. The only way to cure you according to the textbook was for you to reach climax. In colloquial stories about the plant, he’d always heard that orgasm would have to be reached with the help of another person, but the book didn’t stipulate this, maybe this was the answer. You could do it alone. His cheeks were flushed bright red as he opened his mouth once more. “What you need to do is… er… I’m going to take you into the cloakroom, alright?” he swallows, cautiously pulling you up from the stool onto your feet. You would need to sit somewhere to do this presumably and sitting on the stool or the workbench in here could lead to falling and disaster all over again. The best place he could think of was the bench in the cloakroom where people could sit to remove their shoes. You would have the wall to lean against and wouldn’t be sitting on the cold stone floor. Beneath you, he lays out a towel and then helps you to sit down on top of it. The towel was intended to make you more comfortable, but he considers with a blush that it might be necessary for other reasons also. He clears his throat. “Now, you have to… er… get yourself… uhm…” he can’t seem to make himself say the words. With a soft tug at his sleeve, you pull him to kneel between your legs, your faces nearly level given how much height he has on you. 

Before he can stop you, you kiss him. His brain stops functioning for a moment, all he can do is wrap his arms around you and kiss back, so intoxicated by the way your lips move against his. He didn’t have much experience with kissing, but there was no doubt this was the best kiss of his life. You moan against his mouth and it sets all his nerve-endings alight, making him push even closer to you in desperation. For you, the kiss is a sweet relief, cool water washing over your overheated body, but even so, you need more. There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs, a horrible feeling of emptiness that you know only Neville could fill. Trying to urge him on, you brush your tongue against his lips, hoping for entry. You’re allowed in for one tantalising moment before he pulls away with a start when your tongues graze against each other. The whine that rips from your throat is downright pathetic, but you don’t have the faculties to care at that moment. You look at him through your lashes, watching as he fights to regain his composure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Never in his life has he felt as weak as in this moment, rendered so malleable by his desire for you. The two of you are friends. How will you react when you come back to normal and discover he let you kiss him in this state? That he’s allowed his selfishness to get in the way of what’s right? He jumps to his feet, ignoring your cries and protests as much as it pains him to do so.

“Look, the textbook says that the only way to cure you of this is… a uh… a climax,” he blushes and chokes on the words slightly. “I’m going to keep watch outside that nobody comes in, all you have to do is… you know…”

“Get myself off?” you supply in a sultry voice. 

“Yes, exactly,” he clears his throat, turning to leave you alone.

“Nev, please… I need your help… I don’t want to do it alone,” you plead, your voice soft and needy.  

“No, you can do it alo– oh… wow,” he exhales heavily as his eyes reach you once more. In an effort to persuade him, you’d pulled up the hem of your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your thighs and your soaked panties to him. The cold air makes you shiver but doesn’t actually cool you down in the slightest. It takes a great deal of strength to keep Neville from lunging himself at you. You look positively delicious, the wetness of your panties allowing him an outline of your most intimate areas, the skin of your thighs soft and plump and enticing. If he was even a slightly feebler man, he’d already be on his knees, devouring you through the thin, damp fabric. Just imagining how you might taste has him weak in the knees. “Oh Merlin…” he breathes, feeling his erection, which has been slightly present for the last half-hour or so, straining painfully against the zip of his jeans. The needy seductive look on your face almost breaks him, he takes a step toward you, causing you to light up, before he stops himself and just stares. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, unable to help himself. He watches you squirm in response. 

“Please, I need you,” you beg, unbuttoning your shirt as he observes. The garment falls to the ground, leaving you in your plain bra. Neville doesn’t seem to mind how simple the garment is in the slightest, his breath hitching as you reveal yourself.

“I really shouldn’t” he tries again, but he cannot rip his eyes from your body.

“I can’t do it alone, I feel so empty,” you whimper, spreading your legs further. “Please, fill me, I need your cock,” Neville nearly faints at those words, at the pleading way you say them, at how desired you’re making him feel. His legs carry him forward before his brain can catch up and he sits beside you on the bench. His brain finally does catch up just in time to stop you from sitting in his lap.

“Maybe I can help a little, but we can’t… I can’t uh… I can’t ‘fill’ you,” he gives in, despite knowing he probably shouldn’t. He had heard many times that another person was needed to reverse the effects of the Dripping Heart, so it was likely he did have to help, given the fact you hardly seemed satisfied with the idea of getting off alone. He could still be as much of a gentleman about it as possible. He knew the both of you had limited sexual experience, he himself was a virgin and though he wasn’t sure about you, he would guess you were in the same boat or had only had one partner before. With both of you having so little experience, he didn’t want to go all the way, as for you it would likely be regrettable. You plead with him softly, trying to climb into his lap still, despite his strong arms holding you at bay. Each plea weakens his resolve and he knows you know it because you’re babbling now.

“Please, please Nev, I need you inside me, to fuck me, I’ve never needed anything so badly, please, I know you want me too,” he deserved a medal for being able to resist you for this long, most other boys would have given in the second the girl of their dreams said something even remotely flirty, but he was somehow just barely resisting your pleas to have sex with him.

“Sit down,” he implores you, and you quickly obey, batting your lashes at him. “I’m going to help you, okay? But you need to stay still and just… take what I give you, don’t ask for more, okay?” These words seem to excite you, you squirm and nod, eagerly allowing him to spread your legs. His shaking hand rests on your bare thigh for a moment as he takes a few composing breaths. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, it was something he had dreamed of incessantly, but now it felt like it could ruin his life if he wasn’t careful. You tug softly at his arm, trying to get his hand where you want it, bucking against the air.

“Please…” you sob, clenching around nothing as you look at his large hand against your thigh. He shushes you gently.

“I’m about to, just give me a second,” he stammers, trying to sort through his brain for any information he has on how to do this. He averts his eyes, figuring you wouldn’t have wanted him to see you so intimately, even if the damp fabric of your panties had already given him a pretty good look. Slowly, he places his hand on the apex of your thigh, shivering at the damp warmth he can feel radiating from your core. You mewl. Despite the pain in his neck from the position, he keeps his eyes locked on the wall behind you, pointedly ignoring how arousing the sounds you made were. Gathering his courage, he carefully slips the tips of his fingers past the fabric of your underwear and groans aloud at how wet you are. Your nectar gathers on his fingers and for a moment he just gently swipes them up and down to gather as much as possible, hearing your desperate moans as you lean your head on his shoulder. He never knew a woman could be this wet, and sure perhaps the flower was exacerbating it, but the thought still had him unendingly aroused. The angle wasn’t quite right, so he removed his hand, whining in unison with you at the separation. Your essence dripping down his fingers was like a siren song, trying to lure him to lick his fingers clean and finally get a taste of you. How could he ever explain that to you later? To his infinite regret, he doesn’t bring them to his mouth, sliding his hand into your panties once more, now from the top. This angle works a lot better, your hips immediately buck as his fingers slide over your clit.

“There, please, right there,” you beg, and he’s glad for the advice. A little unsure but determined (no point backing out now, at least he might be able to cure you), he relocates the spot that makes you shiver and whine. Your reaction tells you exactly when he’s found the little bundle of nerves once more and he takes a deep breath, before gently beginning to circle his fingers around it. It’s something he remembers hearing in the common room, and it seems it was good advice as soon you’re panting in his ear like a dog in heat, mewling his name softly. He can’t believe the noises you’re making, the sinful way you’re saying his name, it’s like perfect torture, it takes a lot out of him not to look. “Yes, fuck… Nev…” you whine, feeling the syrupy pleasure coursing through your body. “Yes, yes! More!” 

“More?” he croaks, unsure what you mean by that. As a guess, he tries circling faster, and though you definitely seem to like it, your hips canting up into his touch, he can feel you shaking your head against his shoulder.

“Need you inside,” you cry, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“We- we can’t do- that,” he stutters, although he’s never wanted to more in his life. He wholeheartedly agrees with your pained sob in response, but he knows it’s for the best. “How about… er… my fingers? Inside?” he gulps, flustered that he’s even in a situation where he can ask such a thing. 

“O-okay,” you whimper. Neville fumbles around for a moment, trying to figure out where to put his fingers. It would be much easier if he could see what he was doing, but he’s already decided he shouldn’t. The fact that he touched you will no doubt be mortifying enough once you’re back to normal. With a little guidance from you, he very slowly and cautiously presses two fingers into you, making you gasp in pleasure. You’re wet and warm and tight around his fingers and he practically drools imagining how you might feel around his cock, almost cumming on the spot just thinking about it. Merlin, he was such a pathetic virgin, maybe he should be taking the chance and losing his virginity now, but it just doesn’t feel right when he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about it afterwards. He presses his forehead to the cool wall to calm himself down and prevent him from looking at how you took his fingers in, withdrawing them just slightly and then pressing them back in. The sound that comes from you makes Neville’s heart skip, so lewd and sinful and full of ecstasy. He wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows he shouldn’t. 

At your renewed pleading, he starts up a steady pace, thrusting his fingers in and out the way he wished he could with his cock, feeling filthy for even thinking it. The wet sound that each thrust made, accompanied by your wanton moans makes him feel like he’s the one who has been infected by the flower, so crazed with desire. Could there have been some pollen on you that he inhaled when he helped you up? It didn’t seem impossible, but he was also a young man, they weren’t exactly notorious for being level-headed when it came to sex. You lean heavily against him, gasping against his shoulder at each press of his fingers, the coil in your belly twisting tighter than it ever had before. You mumble incoherent pleas and he simply shushes you, not trusting himself not to give in to you if you keep talking. 

“Thumb,” you breathe between vulgar moans and though it takes his sluggish brain a moment, he realises what you want. He presses his fingers deeper, fumbling a moment before his thumb grazes your sensitive bud, making you sob in pleasure. His large deft hand pleasures you like it was made for it, all you can think of is the bliss he’s giving you as he hits all the right spots over and over. Your hand flies up, nails digging into his arm as you realise you’re dangerously close to exploding, despite the bite of your nails, he doesn’t let up his pace, too addicted to the sound of your moans to slow down now. “Nev… I’m–” you cut yourself off with a shout, pleasure shooting through your body like you were struck by lighting. Your muscles tense and tremble, your eyes rolling back in your skull, walls contracting around his fingers hard. The pleasure goes through you in strong waves, drowning you in it, not allowing you respite from shivers and moans for even a second as it wracks through you. You’d never felt anything so intense and all-consuming before. Neville feels your essence gush onto his fingers and though he should be relieved it’s over, he finds himself disappointed that he has to stop doing this, hearing those bewitching sounds. Gently, he removes his hand from you and guides your skirt back down your thighs so he can finally look toward you again. His fingers are covered in your essence, creamy and mouth-watering, the only thing that’s able to stop him from having a taste is your hand still clinging to his arm. He waits for you to gather your breath, silently smug he was able to help, but also petrified of what happens next. 

“Are you alright?” he asks delicately, shifting his erection away from your back now that you might actually register it. You open your eyes and look up at him, which immediately makes him frown. Your pupils are still almost comically dilated, your cheeks still pink and clammy, and though it could just be from the aftermath of your orgasm, he immediately knows something is still wrong.

“I feel better… but not entirely,” you whisper and Neville bites his lip. Great. He stands to wash his hands in the sink, and during that brief period of absence, he watches you become consumed by the effects of the flower again, pleading for him to come back. He splashes water on his face and takes a deep breath. You had reached climax, he may not be an expert in female orgasms but he knew what he just saw and felt, so what was wrong? Was the plant in the greenhouse genetically modified in some way? Would he have to call Professor Sprout to ask for help? How exactly could he explain that he’d already given you an orgasm and it hadn’t worked? Looking back, he should have taken you to Madam Pomfrey the second he’d realised what had happened to you, but he thought you would have found it too embarrassing. Now things would be infinitely more embarrassing for the both of you if you sought out help. Lesson learned, just because he’d survived a war it didn’t mean he could deal with anything life threw at him alone. He feels you approaching from behind and turns around, allowing you to sink into his arms. “Stay with me,” you plead, holding him close.

“Okay,” he sighs, because what else can he do now? “I’m here,” He caresses your bare back and tries to forget what he just did to you, but he can’t. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, kissing your forehead without thinking. “I’ve made a mess of things, we did all that and you’re not even cured,”

“Why won’t you fuck me?” you whimper. Your boldness doesn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Because it’s not what you really want, you’d never forgive me once things got back to normal, I was just the only person around for the pollen to latch onto,”

“But that’s what the pollen wants, maybe that’s the only way to cure it, I don’t just want an orgasm, I want you inside me,” you suggest. He’s glad you’re slightly more lucid from the relief of your climax, but you’re still not entirely yourself, your voice slow and sluggish like wading through water when trying to formulate logical thoughts. He can’t deny the way his cock, which had softened slightly, was coming back to life at your words. “Please…” you nuzzle against his chest. “I promise you, I want this even when I’m not… whatever I am right now,” you chuckle. He sighs. He doesn’t quite believe you but he’s running out of ideas of what to do, and your friendship is presumably ruined anyway. Maybe he’s making excuses for himself, but it feels more and more like there’s only one thing for it. He prays you’ll remember how much you begged and how hard he tried to be a gentleman and not hate him, even if you avoid him for the rest of your life after this. “I need you,” you whisper and he gives in.

“Forgive me for this,” he pleads, before lifting you into his arms and moving back over to the bench, sitting down and letting you straddle his lap. You smile at him softly, fluttering your lashes. At least the orgasm before made you a little calmer and more agreeable. If nothing else, if he gets you to orgasm again, you might be even closer to normal. He pulls you to his chest taking a moment to embrace you for what he worries may be the last time. You nuzzle into him eagerly. “I’m a virgin, you know?” he mumbles into your shoulder, not knowing why he feels the need to say it. Those words seem to embolden you, you paw at his chest.

“I promise it’ll be good, please…” you purr. He wonders how you might have reacted if you were your regular self. Would you have found it sweet? Would you have pitied him? You probably knew, everyone knew, but you never mentioned it to him. He allows you to pull off his sweater, lifting his arms and watching you discard it across the room. When you lean in to kiss him, he doesn’t even pretend to put up a fight, holding the back of your neck and kissing you back, pouring all his unspoken feelings into it. He tries to keep it slow and gentle, but you’re far too eager, and the heat starts mounting fast. He pushes away all his doubts, telling himself he can enjoy this, or else it would be even more of a waste. The t-shirt that was under his sweater is next to go, as he pulls away to allow you to rid him of it, he studies your face, still flushed and feverish, but so beautiful, full of lust. His hands fall, one to your waist and the other to your cheek, pulling you back in, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue between them. You moan against his mouth, whimpering a soft sound, a thank you or a plea for more, it’s unclear. He groans back in agreement with whatever it was you intended to say. Your tongues languidly swirl together, caressing one another affectionately. Feeling your warm hands on his bare chest makes him shiver, feeling as you explore the newfound definition of his abdomen, only light, but still a change. In turn, he presses a few kisses to your chest, shakily reaching up to rid you of your bra. It falls away and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath hitching. He could have never hoped he could see you like this, could have never hoped for any of this, and yet here you were, whining and guiding his hands under your skirt. He runs his hands up and down your thighs as he kisses and sucks at the supple skin of your breasts, giving himself some time to enjoy this despite your hurry. Under different circumstances, he would have liked to have left a mark and asked you to give him one in return, but he knew this was crossing a line as if a million lines hadn’t already been crossed today. At this thought he changes his mind and sucks a tiny mark into the centre of your chest that he’s sure will fade in a few hours, staring at the light pink mark a little wistfully. “Need you inside…” you whine, despite enjoying his affection. There’d be time for that later, but right now it felt completely imperative for him to be inside of you, fearing you might explode if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“Alright, I get it,” he sighs, placing a few more lingering kisses on the swell of your breasts. Your hands find his belt buckle and without him stopping you this time, they make quick work of it. There’s an awkward shuffle as he helps you lower his jeans around his ankles, but once you’ve settled back in his lap, you take in the sight before you. He looks big even through his boxers, just like you predicted, thick and slightly longer than average. Just the thought of him inside you makes you moan and claw off your skirt with no regard for whether it survives the encounter. Neville’s overheated back presses against the cool wall as he leans back to watch you. He doesn’t bother feeling insecure, as you look like you’ve struck gold as you drool over his length, he supposes in this state you would have been happy with anything. His hands slide up and down your sides, being gentle, taking in the sight of your body, so perfect. He wishes in the back of his mind that this won’t be the last time he sees it, but hope feels too dangerous given the circumstances. He helps you slide your panties down, groaning softly as he spots a string of arousal fluid connecting you and the fabric for a while. You want him so badly. His boxers soon follow and he hisses loudly as your hand wraps around his length. “Oh Merlin…” he whimpers, bucking his hips into your hand. “Fuck, I need you,” he parrots. The ghost of a smile crosses your face as you recognise the words as your own.

“You have me,” you whisper, shifting your hips so you’re above his cock, holding him steady as he twitches. Deep brown hooded eyes stare into yours, he can’t believe his luck. Unable to wait any longer, you sink down onto him. Neville’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and he grabs your hips to slow you. You feel perfect around him, warm and silky and inviting, engulfing his whole being in sickly-sweet pleasure. He pulls you close, embracing you as you moan in his ear. Slowly, he lowers you down the rest of the way until your hips are flush with his. For a moment, he simply hugs you and kisses your neck. 

“Feels so good,” he pants in your ear. “So good,”

“You fill me perfectly,” you whine, squirming in his lap for friction. “So big…”

“Yeah?” he coughs, trying to sound smooth but failing, causing him to chuckle nervously. “I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he rubs his hands up and down your spine. “I wish this could last forever,” He lets go of you and leans back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips, taking a moment to admire the sight of you on top of him, him inside you. You feel him twitch within you. “Take what you want, love,” he encourages you to move. There’s no point in him trying to remain in control, all he cares about is that you reach climax, he’s bound to anyway. The nickname makes you even needier somehow, the way his voice is deep with desire. Your hands find his shoulders for purchase, eyes meeting for a moment. You’re both flushed and blissful and the look in his dark eyes shoots a jolt through you. He’s always been attractive, but to see him like this, vulnerable, needy, chest-heaving, it was something else. On his advice, you begin lifting yourself up and lowering yourself down onto his cock, moaning unabashedly with each motion. He stretches you open in the most delicious way, exactly how you’d been picturing all day, or for several years really, perfectly endowed. He relaxes and closes his eyes, groaning and whimpering as you move. Every rock of your hips stokes the flames in the both of you, sending you both toward a common end faster than you regularly might. 

“Thank you,” you purr between moans. “I’ve needed this so bad,” 

“I know,” he chokes out with a tired smile. “I’ve needed it too,” he gently massages the fat of your rear as you ride him, watching in bliss as he disappears inside of you over and over. Your moans rise to a fever pitch, your pace faltering slightly as your climax approaches.

“Yes! Yes!” you practically scream, all your senses heightened as you slam your hips down against him. His face scrunches up in pleasure.

“I’m going to– Ahh!” he grunts, body trembling as he releases thick ropes inside of you, whining with the aftershocks as you continue using him to chase your high. It’s so close, you can’t give up now. Neville’s hands weave into your hair, pulling your face down to his to kiss you. Your tongues meet messily as you struggle to focus on the kiss, preoccupied with your orgasm that is on the tip of your tongue. Heat pools strongly in your abdomen, and you feel the familiar ecstasy of the coil snapping in your belly. Your movement immediately ceases, walls spasming around his length as you moan loudly into his mouth, grabbing him and holding him as close as possible. Your vision whites and your brain goes blank, your whole body twitching violently. He tries his best to soothe you through it, but the pleasure isn’t allowing a single thought to form in your mind for several moments. Finally, your muscles relax and you collapse against him heavily, chest heaving with effort, skin slick with sweat. You vaguely register him removing himself from you and wiping you with a towel, but the corners of your mind are fuzzy and you just cuddle closer to him. You sit in silence for a long while and you nearly fall asleep against his shoulder when he speaks up. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you hum. He tilts your chin up towards him.

“Open your eyes, love,” he implores softly, to which you flutter them open. He sighs a great sigh of relief, seeing your pupils shrink as they react to the light, dilated now a regular amount, and the flush on your cheeks is much less than before. “Do you still need me?” he asks.

“Don’t go,” you panic, holding him closer, but then you realise what he means. “Oh… no, all I want is to maybe have a nap,”

“Thank Merlin, I couldn’t have gone for another round,” he jokes stiltedly. You giggle, cuddling closer once more. “You don’t hate me then?” he mumbles, as if worried he will have reminded you to hate him, gently pushing some hair from your face. 

“No, you… saved me,” you shrug.

“Saved seems dramatic,”

“Well, who knows what would have happened to me if you’d just run away and left me alone? You didn’t have to do what you did, but you did it for me,” you lean up to kiss his cheek. “You gave yourself to me completely, just to save me from discomfort,”

“Trust me, it was my pleasure,” he laughs nervously and you gently swat his chest. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead with a barely contained tenderness.

“Yeah, you’ve proved that,” you grin, kissing his cheek again. “And I for you,”

“You’d have had sex with me if I’d been the one to bump into the plant?” he prompts, sliding his hand up your bare side affectionately. 

“Of course, I’d have done it way sooner too, not wasted time being a ‘gentleman’,” you tease. “Thank you for that though, it was sweet of you, even if it was unnecessary because I don’t regret it one bit,” you promise him, kissing his lips tenderly. He embraces you tighter for a moment and then loosens his grip. 

“We should probably leave, I bet it's past teaching hours now,” he sighs before helping you up and to dress. Your panties are well and truly ruined, so you’re forced to go commando under your skirt. Neville wraps his sweater around your hips to help prevent it from flipping up as you walk through the grounds back to the dorms. He finds it difficult to dress himself as you keep eagerly kissing him, but finally get himself presentable, only to be pulled into another kiss. It’s not desperate or lustful like before, more playful and excited, and he’s happy to accept them. “I take it you like me,” he chuckles as you hug him tight, his arms around you in return.

“Loads,” you sigh into his t-shirt.

“I do too,”

“My room? I promise we can just cuddle and sleep,” you suggest, smiling up at him.

“Hey, give me a few hours, I might be raring to go again,” he jokes.

“Well then definitely my room so I can help you out, I owe you one, don’t I?” you giggle and wink. He blushes slightly and shakes his head. 

“That plant has made a monster, come on,” he takes your hand in his. “Let’s go before someone notices and starts asking questions,” he opens the door into the greenhouse, accio-ing both of your bags over, as well as the open textbook from the workbench. “Stupid inaccurate thing,” he grumbles, stuffing it in his bag. You merely giggle at his frustration. As you turn to leave, you’re met with a gleam of magic, the door to the outside of the greenhouse rematerialising. The two of you exchange a look, neither of you had realised the door was even missing amidst the whole debacle, but it must have been, or else it couldn’t have reappeared. Hogwarts had forced the two of you together, it was likely your fall hadn’t even been organic in the first place. You knew you weren’t usually so uncoordinated.

“Huh,” Neville blinks, checking that the door now works, wondering when exactly it disappeared and how he had missed it. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief before the both of you laugh earnestly.

“Hogwarts is a total perv,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

[syn4k]

if tumblr existed in empires s1 then the dashboard would look a little bit like this i think

🏜️ cactus-abolitionist

MY CAT JUST RAN OUTSIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF A SANDSTORM IM

�� theres-no-place-like-gnome Follow

oh no are they okay?? i don't know how serious sandstorms are but maybe you could go after them?

🏜️ cactus-abolitionist

Sand blowing past you at upwards of 75kmh. It's also really hot sand. It's been known to literally strip the flesh off of bones wait post cancelled my cat just walked back in she's fine guys

9 notes

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

visiting the Mythlands today and me and my family found a neat lil natural floating island while hiking

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

to the people in my notes going "what the fuck": have y'all never heard of physics?

🥀 remorse-is-remorse-of-course Follow

OP WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU LIVE WHERE THIS IS NORMAL

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

western mezalea?? lol

🔧 verylostmechanic Follow

well that explains a lot.

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

Can I Help You

🔧 verylostmechanic Follow

ain't emperor joel dating a fish

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

yeah, they're married. Isn't Emperor Joey a demonfucker????

#dude why are the notes arguing over the ethics of being ruled by a demon 😭 what the fuck #op im so sorry

11,798 notes

🌸 prismarined Follow

...i'm in this class thats being taught by the headmaster today and she smells like weed. i'm not gonna say anything but like. what

🦦 i-like-otters

yeah the academy's just like that. as long as she's not like, actively dying or anything she's probably fine??? idk o7

#reblog

2 notes

⌛️ thelittlesandthatcan Follow

I JUST GOT BACK FROM A BUSINESS TRIP WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE COPPER KING'S GONE

🐟 kelpieselkie Follow

I DONT KNOW I DONT LIVE THERE BUT apparently nobody expected it either?? like some people are saying it was the Dragon Fight that did it (i know Emperor Joey came out with statements that Emperor Riffs actually helped kill the dragon and unleash the demon but its been two days and we all know that he hates that guy so idk) but nobody actually knows anything. it's crazy bro

⌛️ thelittlesandthatcan Follow

my mom said the royal housekeepers found a note from him alongside like everything he owned but they're not saying what's on the note yet. holy shit

237 notes

🐠 fishfucker997

this will definitely have an impact on the local trout population

🏰 all-the-kings-hen Follow

the Guardian of the Thirteenth Empire just died and you're worried about fish???? be for real omg

🐠 fishfucker997

have you people never heard of references in your life

🏰 all-the-kings-hen Follow

why are you interacting with me i literally have "codlanders dni" in my bio

🐠 fishfucker997

my brother in cod you literally reblogged this from me??

🐠 fishfucker997

they blocked me lmao

#how is this post only 2 days old

197,233 notes

🐪 camel Follow

she dragon fight on my copper king til i disappear

elvfish-deactivated-20210503

who the hell let a camel onto this site lol

🐪 camel Follow

You will die at age 87 with nobody to mourn you and no stars still shining to watch you go.

#911 i just witnessed a murder

87,546 notes

🌻 helantheia

anyone know who made emperor pearl's dress? it's really pretty :0

0 notes

📷 desertphotography

West of the River of Plenty, Pixandria

2,307 notes

[ros3ybabe]

April 1st, 2025 🎀

April already? Time is flying, I feel like we barely entered 2025 and now it's April? Feels unreal almost.

I have no work today, so I'm going to spend as much time as I can on stuff that I really need and really want to do! I've done pretty good at getting stuff done lately, especially with school stuff, so I really want to keep that sort of momentum going to try and be more successful as the school semester comes to an end.

Todo Today (April 1st) ✨️

wash dishes 🫧

put away clean laundry 👕

wash bedding 🧼

clean room 🧹

clean cat litter box 🐱

take out trashes 🗑

complete assignment 6 for one of my online classes 💻

complete chapter 10 notes for exercise physiology ✏️

complete chapter 9 notes for health psychology ✏️

complete assignment 10.2 for exercise physiology 💻

make study quizlet for health psychology

make study quizlet for exercise physiology

make a grocery list to order 🍞

daily journaling 📖

read 1 chapter of Attached 📚

night time shower + skincare 🚿

stretch and/or light plates workout 💪

Seems like a lot at first glance, but I have all day to do this stuff, so I definitely have the means to get it all done.

What I Did Yesterday (March 31st) 👑

completed chapter 9 quiz for exercise physiology

worked on chapter 10 notes for exercise physiology

completed assignment 10.1 for exercise physiology

washed a load of laundry

dropped off two packages at the post office

finished paying off my rent

worked from 230pm to 945pm

I feel like that's a good amount of stuff to have gotten done yesterday, given I really wasn't feeling like doing much. Work had been so tiring lately, I'm almost glad the semester is ending because of the toll that work is taking on me physically now. On the bright side, I should be getting promoted in April, so hopefully, things ease up once that happens.

I want to start studying languages again, and of course I'm stuck between my favorite three: Spanish, Korean, or Japanese. I have lots of Japanese study resources, I live in a high population of Spanish speakers, and I listen to lots of music and media in Korean. Which one(s) do I start with to ease back into it? Pick one? All three? Help a girl out!!

🎶 Song of The Day: like Jennie - Jennie

til next time lovelies 🩷

[ginsengkitten]

~AN: This is just quickly thrown together but I like it so whatever hehe also yes I’m a sucker for controversial age gap scenarios with slash SMD!!!! Slightly slow burn sorry hehe

Part 1: Building C.

“If you don’t take a creatives course, you won’t graduate”

Your face burned hot, panic stirring in your chest at the very idea of not graduating. It felt sour on your tongue.

The councilor, Mrs. Price, looked at you with true remorse. She knew how hard you had worked to be a straight A student. Somehow, you'd managed to skirt by high school til your senior year, without ever taking a creatives course. You felt they were unnecessary and got in the way of the real classes. You felt an added pressure to overachieve, be the best, likely because you were the oldest person in your class. Practically 19 and a senior. How could you possibly not graduate at that juncture alone? How humiliating it would be.

"Well...I guess that's that then. What are my options?" You bit your lip nervously.

She sighed.

"Well that's the thing here, there are no 'options'. There's only one class that will take in someone this late in the year. Guitar II."

You slumped back in your chair in shock.

"Guitar II? I don't even play guitar! I didn't even know we had a guitar class." You moped.

"It doesn't have to perfect, Y/N, please I'm trying to work with you here." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

You accepted defeat. In order to graduate you would have to take guitar II. And pass.

Great.

—

"I took guitar 1 last year, it wasn't that bad! Stop moping around and just get it over with Y/N!" Your friend Becca encouraged. You leaned your back against your locker. All the academic prowess you'd achieved and yet it all relied on a stupid guitar class. She was right, true scholars take academic challenges. This wasn't going to hold you back.

"Plus, you're lucky, you get to have Mr. Hudson. He's so hot." She wooed.

You raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Hudson? Who even is that? Am I in the same universe as you?" You questioned.

"Haven't you ever been to building C? His class is the left hallway there don't you remember? He came in last year and all the girls were talking about him!" She said.

Building C. Hm. No you don't think you ever had a class in building C, at least not while he was there. It was large school after all.

"But he's so mysterious. He's like- totally hardcore about guitar. It's like all he lives or breathes. And he never talks about his life. Only work. I heard from someone that he used to be in some old rock band or something, toured all over the world and stuff, but if you ask about it, he refuses to talk about it! A total weirdo!" She added.

Hardcore hm? You weren't intimidated. Not by him.

"Anyways, I gotta jam. I'll see you later Y/N!" Becca said trotting off. You waved her goodbye and pulled out a crumpled paper from your bag.

You glanced again at the class building and number etched on Mrs. Prices pink sticky note paper.

"Guitar II. with Mr. Hudson.

Building C

Room 110"

You began your long trek from the main building all the way down to building C. Building C was the oldest installment of the school. It was the original school before investors came in and revamped the school into a high end private school for all the rich folk who'd moved and settled nearby. Mostly snobby rich kids. Others, like you, had just gotten lucky on a lottery system. And that's why you tried so hard. You were lucky to be here and you weren't going to waste it.

Finally you arrived at the hallway of guitar II. The building was less populated, almost abandoned save for a few classes still held there. Even the color palette hadn't been updated to the new buildings. A shell of what was.

Room 110. You suddenly felt nervous, having to be the late comer, to a new class.

You meagerly clicked the door open. Heads of about 9 others turned to you instantly. You slipped in. Face red.

The tenth head turned its way to you. Mr. Hudson. He eyed you from the front of the room.

"Can I help you?" He asked kindly, deeply.

Now on the spot you tried your best to act casual, but nerves struck you like a timid rabbit. You smoothed your skirt.

"I'm- uh, I'm a late transfer. This is- guitar II right?"You glanced at the piece of paper and then usher it towards him from afar, showing him the evidence. His face softened. "Oh yeah, Mrs. Price had mentioned you. Have a seat wherever." He said flatly. You gave him a low nod and tucked yourself towards the far right of the class.

The classroom was different than any you'd had before. No desks. Only chairs, scattered in a loose oval around the chalkboard. You recognized only one guy in here. Clay Larsen, from English. He gave you a small wave. His small greeting inviting a semblance of calm as you settled into a seat next to him.

"No Guitar?" Mr Hudson broke your train of thought. The red returned to your face. So unprepared.

"No. Sorry." You looked down sheepishly. He didn't emote. "No worries. Can you take notes for now?" He asked. You nodded and pulled out a notebook. He seemed a real riot, this Hudson.

But as soon as he started to play, you were dumbstruck.

What notes would ever cover this? The class watched as he skillfully plucked his electric guitar with precision and ease. He was incredible. He made the guitar cry out in ways you never thought a guitar could. And he looked as if it was nothing. Like breathing air. The guitar looked small and delicate next to his large stature. His large hands cradling it gently.

And so was its natural course that you found yourself eager to perfect this class too. You had to be good at everything you did, every class you took. And now this one would be too. Even if you'd never touched a guitar in your life. You were now determined and inspired.

"Glad to see you in here Y/N. I didn't expect you would be into guitar." Clay mentioned as the class packed up their things. "Me neither hah.." you gave a half grin, not exposing your methods of getting here.

"Hey Y/N, can you stay back for a minute?" Mr Hudson called over to you as the students eagerly filed out. Your name on his mouth caught you in your tracks.

"I'll see you!" Clay waved goodbye. "Cya." You replied, before 180'ing to Mr Hudson. He sat at his desk in the front corner of the room. A sort of intimidation struck you. Perhaps star struck by his skill.

"Yes Mr Hudson?" You greeted him at his desk. He shifted slightly before scooting himself in at his desk, leaning his arms on the table casually. His arms were large and muscular, almost bulging out from his half rolled sleeves of his black button up. He stared at you for a long pause.

"So do you have a guitar to bring?" He asked finally. You bit your lip nervously. "..no."

Your head snapped up. "But I'll find one! A good one too. I'll make it work somehow I promise!" You reassured him firmly. How embarrassing it would be to admit a simple guitar was out of your price range. He sort of cracked a slight smirk and let out a breathy laugh. Happiness or amusement to that extent—neither emotion he'd expressed the entire class until now. His smirk was somehow sweet, albeit likely only amused by your unpreparedness.

"Alright then. Fair enough." He responded flatly again, his smirk disappearing.

He paused for a moment, a silence seconds longer than was necessary. Was he waiting for you to say something now? Did he have more to say? Whatever the stare down was, he didn't seem to hide it. Some sort assertion of dominance? An intimidation tactic to scare you off?

"...is, that all...Mr. Hudson...?" You asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'll see you Wednesday, thanks- "

He paused awkwardly. He didn't seem to have your name memorized quite yet.

"Y/N" you assisted.

"Right, Y/N. See you then." He finished and turned away from you.

"Bye, Mr. Hudson."

[animementrash]

Class 1A as Pro Heroes Headcanons

Characters: All class 1A male students (After time skip)

Tags: characters headcanons, manga spoilers, some may be ooc?, not proofread.

A/N: Heya! It's been a while since I posted, many things happened in my life. I traveled to Japan, got a promotion at work, celebrated my birthday... but I'm back! This is the first post non AOT related hehe, this is a multifandom account but was usually populated with AOT stuff and while I plan on uploading some more AOT stuff today it's turn for MHA. Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!

Izuku Midoriya

Is part of the team of judges who set the current top hero’s billboard.

Has a weekly column in one of Japan’s most important newspaper where he analyzes heroe’s techniques and moves. Most heroes wait expectantly each week for his column to be released.

Attends many charity events and is the top #1 fundraiser for children causes.

Has been the special guest for at least 30 shows, he’s still a nervous mess in all of them.

Is the only person who has a major fanbase without being an active top hero.

Received permission to write a biography for All Might.

Shoto Todoroki

Is top #3 in the charts.

Became ambassor for UNICEF.

Is also an active member of the “Big brother, Big sister” program.

Took over Endeavor’s agency and turned it into his.

Is one of the most requested heroes for fundraisers or charity events.

Has a lot of modeling requests and has been the face of at least 15 brands since he became a top hero.

Katsuki Bakugo

Is top #2 in the charts but constantly switches place with Shoto. (The top #1 Hero is Mirio)

Was the first one from class 1A to make it to the top 5 heroes.

His merchandise is the best seller among all current heroes, anything that has his face in it sells in less than 1 hour.

Just like Shoto, received many modeling requests but refused almost all of them.

Has the largest fandom in Japan, is forced by his PR team to attend fan meetings.

Has a scrapbook with all of Izuku’s columns from the newspaper, if he’s mentioned in them he highlights that part and makes notes based on it.

Yuga Aoyama

Isn’t part of the top 30 heroes but works diligently in his community.

His flashy style never left but he’s a bit more mature about it now.

Is co-writing a book with Izuku about the challenges of being born without a quirk in a quirk-ruled world.

Attends many events related to kids without quirks and is genuinely happy to be there.

Tenya Iida

Continued his family’s legacy and took over his older brother agency.

Is top #7 in the charts, for some reason his fanbase consists of salary men and housewives.

Attends more international events than his former classmates.

Held the Olympic torch during its tour in Japan.

Mashirao Ojiro

Is top #18 in the charts.

Works part time as a martial arts trainer, his trainees made it to the Olympics and won silver.

His agency specializes in taijutsu related quirks and is very popular.

Has a nationwide gym franchise with his hero name.

Denki Kaminari

Is top #9 in the charts.

He supplies his agency electricity as well as Jiro’s agency (it’s canon their agencies are next to each other)

His fanbase consists mostly of high school students, he’s very popular with the teens.

 Was the first one from class 1A to get official merchandise as a pro hero.

Eijiro Kirishima

Is top #4 in the charts.

Is the face of a very famous protein shake brand.

Was the first from class 1A to appear in a magazine cover as headliner (It was for men’s health magazine).

Usually partners with Ojiro’s and tetsutetsu’s agencies for charity events.

Koji Koda

Isn’t part of the top 30 heroes.

His agency is located in a slightly rural town, this is due to his quirk having way more range when surrounded with wildlife than in the city.

Founded more than 30 animal shelters in his first 5 years as pro hero, he received an award because of this.

Most of his fanbase is elementary school kids and middle school girls.

Rikido Sato

Is top #20 in the charts.

Co-owns a bakery with Momo Yaoyorozu.

Wrote a recipes book and it became best seller in Japan for 4 weeks in a row.

His fanbase consists mostly of housewives.

Has his own line of desserts and chocolates, they’re the best sellers during holidays.

Mezo Shoji

Is top #17 in the charts.

Updated his hero suit and no longer hides his face and scars.

His action figure is one of the best sellers.

Participates with Shoto in a lot of “big brother, big sister” events.

Hanta Sero

Is top #16 in the charts.

His fanbase is the most variated one, has kids, students, professionals and even university students as fans.

Just like Shoji, his action figure is one of the best sellers.

His agency is in the center of Tokyo, has to take advantage of the tall buildings and structures.

His most sold merchandise is a tape dispenser, it’s almost always out of stock.

Fumikage Tokoyami

Is top #12 in the charts.

He and Dark shadow have different fanbases.

Whenever he attends a social event paparazzi turn off their flashes so Dark shadow can be in the picture too.

While Tokoyami’s fanbase consists more of teenagers, Dark shadow’s fanbase is elementary school students and little kids.

Minoru Mineta

Isn’t part of the top 30 heroes.

Changed his creep attitude and apologized with all the girls he knew during that time.

Is the ambassor for an organization dedicated to eradicate harassment.

For some reason most of his collabs with brands have to do something with food.

A well-known tea shop has a bobba tea named after him.

[techramonic]

The most ironic thing about Elliot Rodger is that in his attempt to prove that all women are shallow, he proved that not all women are shallow.

My Twisted World: An Analysis on Elliot Rodger's Manifesto

This is a great take. Thank you! I've been meaning to talk about this matter after reading the first few pages of Elliot's Manifesto.

note: Thank you for Antimatter_42 on reddit, since a lot of the information sourced on this analysis was from their reddit post, “Elliot Rodger: A Psycho-Lingustic Profile” on r/TrueCrimeDiscussion. Other information is from my own analysis while reading Elliot Rodger’s Manifesto: “My Twisted World”.

Elliot Rodger was actually a normal guy. People on reddit would often question why this guy was lonely. Why did no one consider him attractive enough to be in a relationship with him? He had the looks, the wealth, practically almost everything a girl would want, right? The reason why no one approached him was because he was shallow.

Here are some of the aspects of his personality and life that could better explain why:

CHILDHOOD

I currently have been reading his manifesto and he had a seemingly good childhood. He was a nice kid who lived a nice life. Up until his parent’s divorce. Even until then, he would still spend time with both sides of his family, who both treated him with wealth. On his first birthday, he had already been to France, then lived in Sussex, went on a vacation to his mother’s home country Malaysia, took a trip to Spain, then Greece, then grew up from ages 5 to 9 in California. He travelled a lot.

First observation, he places so much of his worth on materialistic things that it fully consumes him when he fails to become what he isn’t. He has exhibited this fixation at a very young age. Just when he moved to Topanga Elementary School, by the age of six, he had already developed a view on the world that separates people by their differences: the “cool kids” and the “losers”. He considered the cool kids as the higher-class, the ones who are privileged with garnering attention even if they did the bare-minimum. He even went so far as to dye his hair blonde to appear more white because of the predominantly white population, and even tried to pick up on skating because he thought it would make him cooler. This was the first red flag, because instead of accepting things and bettering himself, he chose to change aspects of his life to better fit people's "standards", when in truth, that was only a standard he set for himself because he was insecure.

RACIAL HIERARCHY

Elliot is an interesting case because he has no sense of self-worth. He is so fixated on hierarchy that he constantly demeans his own kind. He’s very racist, particularly and most fixated on Asians. Elliot is Asian-European himself, his father is English and his mother was of Chinese descent. Yet he was so focused on how this makes him less because he considered whiteness as a prestige. He has made several comments regarding how no woman would find Asian men to be attractive and it seems like he has placed whiteness on a pedestal that somehow is highest in the racial hierarchy.

He was also very fixated on his looks. He was vain, to be short. He has repetitively mentioned how he hated his hair, his looks, and even his height. From things he can control and others of which he can’t, all these aspects of him seem to tie into him being mixed. He thought that this difference further alienated him when in truth, it really didn’t. Sure, he was bullied for being physically weak and short but he shouldn't blame that on his descent, for that wasn't something in his control. He could've went to the gym and worked on himself, it might've helped him feel better, but he then only saw this problem as "being mixed is a form of inferiority", because this made him “undesirable”. He is not as fair-skinned, he is blonde, he didn’t have blue eyes, and he was not as tall as the other kids simply because he was not them. He changes parts of himself to better fit the narrative of being “cool”. To him, it’s all a part of growing up and fitting in but he fails to see that the more he takes parts of himself for people to like him and focus on him, the more it just makes him hollow.

Elliot’s childhood and teen years, best summed up, is a fixation on trying to keep up with those who are higher on the social status ladder and this continued to his later years.

EXPOSURE TO PORNOGRAPHY AND SEXIST / MISOGYNISTIC MEDIA

He was also more lonely during his teen years, 13 years old according to his manifesto, he stopped having contact with his only friends because they started having their own separate lives together, making him spend more time alone by himself (Rodger, 2014, pg. 38). This was when Elliot first recounted his exposure to pornography by catching a teenager watch it on Planet Cyber.  He said he was “traumatized” by how two people could do such a thing and call it love. He didn’t know about sex up until then and this explicit exposure truly “damaged” him, according to his words himself. Though he did feel aroused, he was more guilty and confused.

This was the pinnacle of Elliot’s misery. A kid who searches for validation with his looks, now searches for it with sexual gratification as well. He only found himself as wanted if girls flocked over to him. He had the misogynistic mindset that his worth is only measured by how many girls he could get and how fast he'd lose his virginity. Especially with the stereotypical portrayal of media influencing teen boys with the concept of "cool" guys having lots of girls, treating them like objects and trophies, while nerds and "losers" have none. With this, he did not even make any effort to do his part. It was almost always one-sided, his friends would say, where he would expect women to just swoon over him because he exists, because he is a man. 

ENTITLEMENT

Furthermore, initially, his middle school years at Pinecrest were pleasant according to him. He even talked to girls and even danced with a girl during a school dance (Rodger, 2014, pg. 29). However, things eventually became difficult as he found it harder to socialize and was also bullied in his later years. According to his friends, he barely even talked to women but still complained no woman wanted to talk to him. He just expected them to approach him.

Elliot also had  a record for being entitled or spoiled. Even as a kid, he would complain about things that were small, like when on his first birthday, he cried that his friend got the first slice of his cake, which was understandable but still relatively small; or when he refused to sit crossed-legged for his class picture and was the only boy who didn’t do it after the teachers gave up on persuading him; or when he threw a fit that he didn’t get his hair fully-dyed as blonde because the hairdresser said he was too young. This transcended to his adult years.

More on his latter years in life, he attended Pierce College and found it rather pleasant compared to former schools, but after a while, found it disheartening after seeing a lot of couples on campus, which shifted his fixation from school to getting a girlfriend, so much so that he dropped out and enraged his step-mother. Elliot had this hatred for his step-mother, Soumaya, which was mentioned in the book as well. He considered his dad to be “weak” for following her orders around, when in truth, she was only trying to teach Elliot a lesson about independence.

At his mother’s insistence, Elliot began looking for a job and eventually found work with a family friend on a house construction project. He felt more comfortable with this job, seeing it as helping rather than typical employment. After getting his driver’s license, Elliot enrolled in summer classes at Moorpark College but struggled with attendance, again due to his jealousy of campus couples. He dropped out midway through, briefly worked as a janitor at an airport office, and quit after one day. Knowing his mother would be upset, he reenrolled at Moorpark but eventually dropped out again (Rodger, 2014, pg. 70). Upon learning of Elliot’s decision to drop out again, his parents decided he would move to Santa Barbara, where he would live alone in an apartment paid for by his mother, receive a $500 monthly allowance from his father, and enroll in classes at Santa Barbara Community College (Rodger, 2014, pg. 77). 

CONCLUSION

Elliot is insistent on the idea that “women are shallow.” when in truth, it was him all along. No man is entitled to force a woman to give them their love and attention, even to buy it off of them. No one has absolutely any obligation to love someone because the other sees it as a form of acceptance or validation. Self-worth comes from yourself, not from others. 

Due to Elliot’s constant fixation on trying to be accepted, he lost himself and the identity that made him authentic and less shallow. If only he stuck to being genuine, then surely, he wouldn’t have been so lonely. It’s like seeing a kid who was sheltered all his life finally open his eyes to the cruelty of the world and because he thinks he can get whatever he wants, he feels disgustingly hateful whenever he doesn’t.

Additionally, due to the unfortunate events that have subsequently happened in the later years of his life, he was driven to a point of madness. His best friend ended their fourteen-year friendship due to Elliot's constant complaints about not having a girlfriend, his stepmother cut ties with him,, he got beaten up while he was drunk and desperate to find a girlfriend, the cherished gold necklace given to him by his grandmother was robbed, further drove him to the tragic decision to commit his crime and suicide.

Concluding, Elliot was the epitome of shallowness. He wanted everything even if he did the bare-minimum. It wasn’t the problem of the second party, it was him, and because he never realized that and only further saw gratification of his actions from both the media and guys who sympathize with him because they also could not get women themselves and are too caught up with their misery to work on themselves instead, he was convinced that his crime was the only way for the world to give him the attention he desperately wanted.

[darkmaga-returns]

10 shocking stories the media buried today.

The Vigilant Fox

Dec 09, 2024

#10 - A new study demonstrates, “Something is being shed from the COVID-19 vaccinated population to the unvaccinated population.”

The “conspiracy theorists” were right again.

The study revealed shocking findings: women who were around vaccinated people daily (within 6 feet) had a 34% higher risk of heavy menstrual bleeding, a 28% higher chance of their period starting over a week early, and a 26% higher chance of menstrual bleeding lasting more than seven days, compared to those with little close contact.

One of the authors of the study wrote: “After more than a year of censorship from the medical journals, our landmark study and manuscript has been published demonstrating significant circumstantial evidence that something is being shed from the COVID-19 vaccinated population to the unvaccinated population. It is far beyond time for these toxic injections to be withdrawn from the market.”

Reacting to the study’s alarming findings, esteemed physician Dr. Pierre Kory wrote on X: “The most puzzling thing we’ve seen with the vaccine is its ability to ‘shed’ and harm those who never got it. A peer-reviewed study just validated the thousands of shedding reports sent to us.”

(See Sources and 9 More Revealing Stories Below)

Source 1 - New Study Finds Concerning Evidence of COVID-19 'Vaccine' Shedding

Courageous Discourse™ with Dr. Peter McCullough & John Leake

New Study Finds Concerning Evidence of COVID-19 'Vaccine' Shedding

by Nicolas Hulscher, MPH…

Read more

17 hours ago · 148 likes · 39 comments · Nicolas Hulscher, MPH

Source 2 - Newly Published Study Shows Shedding Of Covid mRNA Vaccine Products

Pierre Kory’s Medical Musings

Newly Published Study Shows Shedding Of Covid mRNA Vaccine Products

As many of my readers know, about a year ago I spent months researching and writing on the topic of “shedding” of gene therapy medicinal products (GTMP), a class of therapies which the Covid vaccines are categorized under. That effort was first inspired by patients reporting to me and my partner…

Read more

13 hours ago · 104 likes · 31 comments · Pierre Kory, MD, MPA

#9 - Elon Musk Considering Giving Reform UK $100 Million To Help Farage Become Prime Minister: Report

The Telegraph and others are reporting that X owner Elon Musk is mulling heavily investing in Reform UK, the political party headed by Nigel Farage in order to help him compete with the two establishment parties in Britain.

“Elon Musk is reportedly considering giving Reform up to $100 million, or around £79 million, after cementing a friendship with Farage at Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago home in Florida,” the outlet notes.

Read More: https://modernity.news/2024/12/09/elon-considering-giving-reform-uk-100-million-to-help-farage-become-prime-minister-report/

#8 - Speaker Mike Johnson Says He Supports Defunding Planned Parenthood

“Planned Parenthood and PBS are in congressional control. Are you planning to axe both of those?” Fox News host Martha MacCallum asked Johnson.

“I would like to. That’s for sure,” Johnson replied.

Read More: https://www.infowars.com/posts/speaker-mike-johnson-says-he-supports-defunding-planned-parenthood-i-would-like-to/

#7 - UN Deploys Investigators as Mysterious "Disease X" Continues to Spread

In the Democratic Republic of Congo, international health officials have been deployed to help stave the spread of a mysterious respiratory disease.

Dubbed “Disease X,” DRC health authorities have already recorded 406 total cases and 31 deaths, and the disease is disproportionately affecting young children.

Read More: https://futurism.com/neoscope/un-team-disease-x-congo

#6 - NYPD Identifies 'Strong Person Of Interest' In United Healthcare CEO Murder Case

While you’re here, don’t forget to subscribe to this page for more daily news roundups.Subscribe

#5 - US Military Begins Launching Strikes as Assad Flees Syria

#4 - Joe Biden Voted as Worst President in Modern History

#3 - Rand Paul Warns Musk & Ramaswamy About The Swamp’s Upcoming DOGE Dodge

#2 - Ex-Secret Service Agent Warns of Major Attack on Trump Before Inauguration

#1 - Judicial Bombshell: Federal Judge Forces FDA to Release Over a Million Pages of Pfizer’s COVID-19 Trial Documents They Wanted to Keep Hidden for 75 Years

BONUS #1 - Stephen A. Smith Delivers Unexpected Knockout Blow to Joe Biden

BONUS #2 - Alarming Levels of DNA Contamination Found in COVID Vaccines

BONUS #3 - How to Get Ivermectin, Z-Pak and More

BONUS #4 - Fed-Up Liberal ERUPTS on Democratic Party in Epic Rant

BONUS #5 - The Shocking Truth About Skin Cancer: What You’re Not Being Told About the Sun

[tobiasdrake]

Who do you think is more dangerous/untrustworthy: the police or the military? I ask because I've noticed lately that there's a lot of shows out there that seem to like to pit the two against each other, especially copaganda shows.

I don't know why that has to be an either/or. But I do think it's worth noting that while a lot of wars are fought for bullshit reasons, there is good cause for having a standing military. Not a hyper-inflated military like what the U.S. has but. Like.

Where would Ukraine be right now if they hadn't been building up their defenses in response to increasing Russian hostility in the years leading to the invasion?

It would be nice to live in a world where there was no societal value to a military. And it can be hard to see what societal value a military can possibly have when you live in the U.S., where people are starving in the streets so that Lockheed Martin can sell more fighter jets on the government's dime.

There is no justification for the hyper-inflated American military. But there is, in the real political space we occupy, valid cause for a military. Small, vulnerable nations need something to protect themselves from deranged, aggressive powers like Russia, North Korea, or the United States.

By contrast, there is very little good that police exist to do.

The military, at their core, exist to protect the interests of the State against foreign aggression through use of violent force.

The police, at their core, exist to protect the interests of the State against their domestic civilian population through use of violent force.

Police are the militarized soldiers of capital and the ruling class, and the enemy they seek to destroy is their own disgruntled civilianry. They grow in power and number in direct proportion to increasing discontent among the nation's commoners. Their job is to keep the cogs of the machine turning through intimidation and force, and to annihilate "the enemy within"; those citizens who are a threat to the existing power structure.

Now, mind you, there are situations where society needs the ability for someone with body armor and a gun to respond to a developing crisis. But these are extremely few and far between. Not nearly common enough to justify a vast, standing patrol force.

Because even in the best-case scenario, when you have millions of people who've been told that their job is to watch out for the next 9/11? You've created an organization of very bored people with weapons and a bit of insecurity over whether or not their job is worth doing. And when those people start chomping at the bit for a little action, that's a recipe for disaster.

There is nothing good that can come from putting a gun to the head of every citizen.

[davekat-sucks]

I have my troll headcanons, and this is gonna be a long one, I’m doing all the Beta trolls. Also note these headcanons assume all characters survive and exist on Earth C.

Aradia Megido is trying to puck back up on the hobbies she abandoned when she became a ghost, and with her luck Earth has a vast archeological expanse of history and paleontology that Alternia destroyed to legitimize the Condesce’s rule, and to erase any mention of organized rebellion against the empire. Of course, history still existed, but is almost exclusively known by highbloods who have the class and age to study writing, own journals to write on, live long enough to document dozens of sweeps of their life history, and have less of a chance to get culled by drones controlling population growth. Reassembling Alternian history on Earth C is like finishing a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces hiding across the empty void of space. Aradia likes to search for fossils, but her interest in the dead and telekinetic connection with ghosts make her a professional paranormal investigator as well, she once snuck into a haunted house being filmed for a ghost hunters TV show, and was caught on camera. Her ripped clothes and ruffled hair from attempting a breaking and entering made her look like an undead troll.

Tavros thinks Pokémon is too simple and amateur for him, when in reality he’s mad he still loses in competitive matches in both card game and online game. He still likes the Pokémon anime! A boy who never grows up going on adventures against an organized crime syndicate trying to steal a powerful ally and nonverbal creature! Not to mention that the Ash character has friends to tag along on their perilous journey! When it comes to fighting with mythical magical monsters and complex bullshit with cards, Tavros has a soft spot for Yu-Gi-Oh, and Seto Kaiba reminds him of a troll that kept on meddling with him… and still does.

Sollux is possibly the best software technician on Earth C. He is an admin for a forum that discusses obscure desktop/master software. He obviously uses Linux and Gnu, and codes .ath viruses as practice for whitehat hackers to disarm. His Earth C hive is entirely themed by bifurcation. His curtains, his furniture, his goddamn toilet are themed by 2 colors. Karkat calls it ugly, Kanaya calls it creative. To cope with his psiionics and his loss of them, Sollux teamed up with Aradia, Karkat, and Feferi to code and design a walkie talkie that can talk to the recently deceased, this was also done so people could stop running specifically to him for predictions of armageddon.

Karkat is trying very hard to accustom himself to human culture, he has watched a lot of human film (mostly American, a few Fench and Soviet films and a bunch of Tokusatsu and Anime slop) to get why humans were like that, and if everyone was like Dave and Rose. He finds human film boring and generic, but continues to watch it anyway, to connect with the human way of life. He also follows John’s Youtube account… to leave hate comments, they don’t even attack John’s appearance or the points John makes about the film, it’s general allusions to how frustrated he gets watching John’s videos.

Nepeta has been banned from New York C’s central park zoo for scaring the bears at their enclosure and intimidating them into smashing the glass. Nepeta was allowed back in 2 years later when she promised she would not harm any animals because “it would be too easy to hunt them.” Nepeta is a professional huntress who is unique in that she doesn’t use firearms, she just catches the animal in her mouth and slices their neck if it’s big game like deer or wild boar. She meets her maximum bag capacity within a day. She is the scourge of human huntsmen and she is known as “the green lioness” to many.

Kanaya was able to pass on the duties of brooding cavern patrol once the first Jadebloods reached maturation after 9 sweeps. On Earth she was introduced to a new series of monsters and beasts after being accustomed to the animated corpses she’d hunt during the Alternian day and rainbow drinkers in her trashy teengrub erotica. Since she was always around Rose, a girlfriend and devout student of zoologically dubious, she became a cryptozoologist and eventually a bigfoot hunter. Her agility, strength, night vision, and rainbow drinker hearing made her perfect for hunting North America C’s most hidden animal. She would mostly stalk the rustling of leaves and moaning from the shadows of the forest to find it’s a human hiker or a bear, until she actually caught Bigfoot in an open Brush 30 miles West of Marquette C, Michigan C. Notably sightings were made days after Kanaya caught the creature, and after a week on news channels, talk shows, radio interviews, getting a nobel prize in biology and ecology, and getting a giant golden trophy called the “first big step” she now is treading westwards for possible other bigfoot sighted from California to Idaho. That is, when she can schedule it, she has a girlfriend she also wants to be there for. Of course, Rose has joined Kanaya on a few bigfoot searches to support her girlfriend.

Terezi IS the law. Professional trollcop and private investigator, she has her own TV show like that of Chris Hansen where she roleplays as different people, ranging from kids that pedophiles prey on to lone wolfs and depressed deadbeats that drug cartels search for to hire as peddlers and soldiers. Terezi’s strongest expertise is hunting down anti-troll hate groups, since she gets to be herself instead of roleplay as a human. She struggles the most catching anti-human troll groups and Neo-Condescites considering she has to fight against her own species, which have an easier time sniffing out if she’s faking her human archetype and some of them are super strong indigobloods.

Vriska haaaaaaaates how boring and fake human roleplaying games are. In FLARP you had real costumes, stat bats, real loot, month long continuous sessions, and dire consequences if you lose. To keep herself not bored she has become a practitioner of the extreme sport of rock climbing, since Vriska hated walking down and up all those stairs just to get to her lusus, and climbing a shear face would be more safe than slipping on those infernal steps! She also wanted one day for her lusus to watch her climb, as spidermom laud down in that pit of webs, too fat and loud to crawl up herself. Spidermom has been dead for sweeps now so Vriska still won. GET F8CKED FUSSYF8NGS!!!!!!!!

Equius was an unfortunate troll who got caught up in strange human subcultures, and that subculture was human hypermasculinity and “alpha” male mentality. He has a Youtube channel, Twitter, and Instagram dedicated to exercising routines, habits, and hobbies that make male trolls, humans, carapacians, and even denizens respected leaders in their community. Equius tried to co-opt My Little Pony as being masculine and sigma despite the protagonists being all colorful horses. Equius believes all of the protagonist ponies (the mane 6 as they’re called in fandom circles) each hold masculine traits that can correlate with the masculine archetypes in alpha men. Think how Twilight Sparkle exemplifies intelligence and planning, AppleJack has strength and stoicism, Rarity appreciates natural beauty and appearence, etc. Also they are horses, and Equius is frustrated that humans took the maned roarbeast (lions) and striped fangbeast (tigers) as the mascot of alpha males. Equius made his own personal gym in his hive because he was banned from all the gyms for excessive sweating and never cleaning up his station. He films fighting tutorials with his combat robots, but they all break in one punch, so Nepeta has to be invited for any successful demonstrations on how to demonstrate Equius’s fighting style and not break in one punch.

Gamzee is in a mental Asylum becaise of the whole murder thing and has only broken off from Lord English’s control for the first time in his life. He expresses himself by rhyming the GREGCLOUROIAN WICKED RHYTHMS for THE FROWNING MASSES to proselytize the NEW COMING OF THE DARKER CARNIVAL. After 5 sweeps in a straitjacket Gamzee was deemed sane and pacified, so he can finally start his real life. He immediately asked Tavros to start dueting some sick bars he wrote in the brig to bring forth the new prophesy of the evanjesters. Tavros agreed without hesitation. “Mike Club” and “Wild T” sell albums as the “UNHINGED PAGLIACCI TROUPE” and have gotten many a negative review as “the worst rappers in all paradox space” but in the end, built up a dedicated fanbase of clownfolk and followers of the true faith.

Eridan doesn’t go out much, if at all. He plays a lot of video games, grand strategy, roleplaying games, a few puzzle games. He feels mixed about First Person Shooters and asks for a good story in an FPS campaign. He sees himself as honorablenand only shoots with a reason, like how he killed lusii to feed G’bolg’lyb and stop the vast glub. He doesn’t want to shoot people because some authority tells him to! Honest! Ask Sollux and he’ll agree Eridan shot in self defense! And Sollux is still alive and happier that he doesn’t hear the boices ofbthe dead doesn’t he?! Maybe Sollux should THANK HIM FOR BEING CONSIDERATE. Sorry what was I talking about? Eridan does not regret a lot of things, but he will still talk about them when you bring them up to insist he does not regret anything, nope, he’s fine. He does hang around with the people, or rather, person he tolerates. Karkat. Everyone else are lowbloods that don’t like him because he’s better than them so they insult him and say he smells bad when that’s the natural smell of the ocean and they don’t understand how important he is, or Feferi who toyed with his emotions and left him for some bipolar mustardblood and avoided him after ALL HE DUD FOR HER AND WAS SO NICE TO HER AND SHE DIDN’T RECIPROCATE THOSE FEELINGS wait what was I talking about? Eridan insists he does not need help. He’s fine. He’s fine fine fine fine fin.

Feferi loves Spongebob Squarepants, it’s a match made in heaven, but she’s not obsessed with it. She still went far enough to paint her recuperacoon blue with the colorful flowers that dotted the oceans of Bikini Bottom. She is an advocate for saving all the coral reefs and has sued many companies with her nonprofit organization and vast personal wealth for spillover of hazardous chemicals into protected waters. Considering how often CrockerCorp gets into these environmentalist lawsuits, Feferi gets under Jane’s nerves. A lot.

Final thoughts. Eridan, Karkat, Nepeta, Vriska, Tavros, and Terezi (sometimes Sollux but he’s busy most of the time) all run a discord for roleplaying and video games. Eridan Karkat and Tavros like to play the Elder Scrolls series, Sollux likes to play the Fallout series, Vriska, Nepeta, and Terezi like both. Sollux tried to get Eridan to play Fallout: New Vegas once, but Eridan got bored after a few hours and thought the morality system was too simple. Between the organized disciplined and stable Caesar’s Legion or the corrupt incompetent bureaucrats of the New California Republic, or the selfish authoritarian Mr. House, or you thrusting the wasteland into chaos as you throw all 3 of the remaining lighthouses of civilization into collapse. Sollux has a let’s play channel but the only uploads on it are Nepeta’s playthrough of Postal 2 she shared on the discord server.

Karkat does a lot of human movie watchparties with his old friends to keep his trollian friends close enough that they don’t kill each other or wander off on this new weird alien world, and to his surprise they like some of the human films even though they are bottom of the barrel compared to peak alternian film. Each of the trolls favorite films are:

Aradia: Carrie (1976)

Tavros: Pokémon the First Movie (2000)

Sollux: The Matrix (1999)

Karkat: Con Air (1996)

Nepeta: The Lion King (1994)

Kanaya Maryam: Harry and the Hendersons (1987)

Terezi: Trolls (2016)

Vriska: Pirates of the Caribbean (2005)

Equius: Spirit (2003) and Fight Club (1999)

Gamzee: Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988)

Eridan: Waterloo (1970)

Feferi: Atlantis the Lost Empire (2001)

Final fact: since films from the beta kids library still had a chronological year, the release year of films gets confusing, so to make up for it, films on Earth C are released on a separate calendar, the year on the Earth C Planetary Film Board is equal to current year (number of years after the original kids touched down on Earth C) plus 2009. Old Alternian films are hard to chronologically measure since they were made billions of years before April 2009.

This is a long one!

These are all amazing!

[workersolidarity]

🇮🇱🇺🇲 🚨

BIG FAT CRYING ISRAELI BABY BEGS UNCLE SAM FOR MORE BOMBS, LESS RESTRICTIONS

In bizarre series of events on Thursday, when the Israeli entity's psychotic Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, accused the Neocon administration of Genocide Joe Biden of imposing unfair restrictions, bottlenecking munitions deliveries, and slow rolling arms sales for the Zionist occupation army.

The accusations seem to have been made out of a desire for speeding up the genocide in the Gaza Strip, because murdering nearly 40'000 Palestinians in 9 months doesn't seem to be resulting in the rapid ethnic cleansing of Gaza the Zionist Prime Minister was hoping for.

Netanyahu began his toddler fit with false praise for the Genocide Joe administration, telling reporters in English that “When Secretary Blinken was recently here in Israel, we had a candid conversation. I said I deeply appreciated the support the US has given Israel from the beginning of the war."

Almost immediately, Netanyahu's praise became a backhanded complement when he added, “But I also said something else, I said it’s inconceivable that in the past few months, the administration has been withholding weapons and ammunitions to Israel..."

"Israel," he said again in faux disbelief, "America’s closest ally, fighting for its life, fighting against Iran and our other common enemies.”

"Secretary Blinken assured me that the administration is working day and night to remove these bottlenecks,” the crying man-baby-in-chief continued, adding that “I certainly hope that’s the case. It should be the case.”

But Netanyahu didn't stop there, the Psychopathic-man-baby-in-Chief reportedly accused the Genocide Joe administration of playing into the hands of Iran and its "proxies in the region", including Hamas and Hezbollah, by slowing munitions deliveries.

Asked about the man-baby's breakdown, US Secretary of Murder at the State Department, Antony Blinken, suggested the Zionist occupation's leader was exaggerating, and insisted only a single delivery has been held up.

The top war-mongering diplomat in the State Department went on, pointing to the one shipment the self-propelled grandpa mentioned in a press conference in Washington over a month ago.

"We are continuing to review one shipment that President [Genocide Joe] Biden has talked about with regard to 2000-pound bombs because of our concerns about their use in a densely populated area like Rafah. That remains under review,” Blinken said of the shipment.

"But everything else is moving as it normally would move… with the perspective of making sure that Israel has what it needs to defend itself against this multiplicity of challenges [it faces],” the Chief State Department war profiteer added.

When pressed about the issue in a later press conference, the blood-soaked-White-House spokeswoman and terrible-at-her-job-of-being-an-expert-liar, Karine Jean-Pierre, added that "We genuinely do not know what he’s talking about. We just don’t."

Clearly uncomfortable and aware that many of Genocide Joe's voters reject the Zionist genocide in Gaza, but equally conscious of the psychopathic and maniacal flippancy of her counterparts in the Israeli entity, Karine Jean-Pierre added that "There was one particular shipment of munitions that was paused, and you’ve heard us talk about that many times."

"We continue to have constructive conversations with the Israelis for the release of that particular shipment and don’t have any updates on that. There are no other pauses or holds in place… Everything else is moving in due process."

But it's clear from the behavior and words of the crying Israeli man-baby, Zionist Murderer-in-Chief Netanyahu, that his concern lies with wrapping up the genocide as quickly as possible, noting in his earlier statement that increasing the flow of American weapons would "help him finish the war more rapidly."

In his typically over-aggrandizing style, like a 13-year-old girl in a middle school Drama class, the man-baby said “During World War II, [UK leader Winston] Churchill (another historical psychopath) told the United States, ‘Give us the tools, we’ll do the job,'" going to add, "and I say, give us the tools and we’ll finish the job a lot faster.”

According to unsourced reporting in the Hebrew media earlier on Thursday, the Top war-mongerer Antony Blinken promised the man-baby Netanyahu that he would remove any and all restrictions on US weapons transfers to the Zionist entity in the coming days. Information that was likely leaked by the man-baby or his administration themselves.

Despite the crocodile tears, it's become clear Genocide Joe and his administration are not serious about preventing the use of American weapons to kill tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians, including thousands of women and children, and will continue funding and arming the destruction of innocents despite the ever escalating concerns from International institutions like the ICJ that were built by the United States itself, along with its closest allies.

In just the latest example of the Genocide Joe administration's ever escalating foreign policy, The Times of Israel, citing the Washington Post, says the Biden administration pressured two lawmakers with a hint of a conscience, Rep. Gregory Meeks and Sen. Ben Cardin, who were holding up a single delivery of 50 F15 fighter jets for several months, into accepting the arms transfer.

Times of Israel:

"Rep. Gregory Meeks and Sen. Ben Cardin have signed off on the deal under heavy pressure from the Biden administration after the two lawmakers had for months held up the sale, the [Washington] Post reported."

The pressuring of lawmakers, the odd relationships leading to bizarre comments from their Israeli counterparts, and the holding up of a single symbolic arms delivery all come together to expose the Biden administration's greatest contradiction: its dedication to Neoconservative foreign policy and US Imperialist domination, while at the same time offering up the occasional virtue-signaling public comments to its base of more peace-prefering voters who, at the very least, don't want to watch a live-streamed genocide occur right before their eyes, funded by their tax dollars.

These contradictions continue to play themselves out before the eyes of the entire world as crying babies and manipulative political figures continue to take advantage of this contradiction, seeing it for the weakness it is and using it, and other weaknesses, to manipulate the Genocide Joe administration into endlessly backing the maniacal and psychopathic Israeli occupation as it forever escalates with its adversaries, hoping the drag the United States into another two decades of war in West Asia.

#source1

#source2

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[lupiinee]

things i want more from the wizarding world bc jkr sucks at fucking world building

where are the museums? where are the heritage centres? witchcraft and wizardry has been around for thousands of years, where's all the artifacts and history stored

you can just??? walk into a trade once you graduate??? where's the apprenticeships?? where's the hogwarts-to-careers pathway?? where's the gap years? where's the studying abroad??

field trips? not once did any of the professors think that learning would be better out in the real world? think about snape teaching the kids to gather ingredients and how to make a bare bones potion in the wild. or remus showing natural habitats of creatures?

hogsmede being the only wizarding village is dumb as shit. especially when most wizards cannot understand muggle lifestyles at all - like are you telling me most wizards are in muggle towns and NO ONE questions them not knowing what a car is?

on that note - why is muggle studies not MANDATORY for all witches/wizards??? if they're going to live amongst them why is it an elective course?? if you're going to end up marrying a muggle you need to know the by-laws of showing off magic surely???

quidditch being the only sport that is played is dumb as fuck. especially if it can be over in less than 5 minutes if the seeker gets the snitch

why are these people giving wands to 11 year olds and expecting them to take them seriously??? if i had a wand at the age of 13 years old BEST BELIEVE i'm murking my bullies. nah you should be getting your wand after you graduate or at the very least, not have it with you outside of class???

what were children of wizarding families doing prior to hogwarts? surely they can't be all in private tutoring?? the weasleys wouldn't have the money for that for a start and what happens if they turn out to be a squib and can't read or write and don't have basic math comprehension before the age of 11???

are we seriously expected to believe that wizarding children from dufftown scotland are expected to travel all the way down to london to catch an 11am train to take them back up to scotland. like do they not stop at edinburgh and aberdeen first? like???

on that note, surely EDINBURGH the most HAUNTED PLACE IN THE UK would be a peak wizarding community. like surely they have their own subsect of shops and society.

there's an average of 280 students at hogwarts at any given time ( 5 male students x 5 female students x 7 years = 70 x 4 houses = 280 ) that is a DANGEROUSLY LOW wizarding population for tom riddle to be murking people left right and centre and not being noticed so fudge has NO EXCUSE

azkaban is dumb. i will not elaborate.

actuallY NO I WILL ELABORATE!! so people go to azkaban for serious crimes right?? do you get sent for like?? tax evasion??? do you get sent for illegal gambling?? what about keeping an illegal animal??? surely they can't all go to azkaban??? for all eternity amongst death eaters and literal child murderers??? what the heck???

how DOES the wizarding world taxation process work??? do they take into account you working in a muggle career??? how is the ministry funded??? do they have their own subsect from the UK government??? thats a dangerous relationship!

why is the minister of magic not included in discussions of parliament?? issues that could clearly cause issues for the wizarding world would be something he needs to know about like a little thing called brexit??? the european union??? other parliamentary members would need to know who they are and what they're doing there surely???

what about wizarding holidays??? are there travel companies??? how did the weasleys get over to egypt without passports??? they couldn't have used floo or apparate. was there a service ensuring they got there???

280 students crammed into a castle for 9 months out of the year and only 3rd years and up get to go to hogsmede? give them dances. give them entertainment and clubs and spirit weeks and shit like that. give them non-uniform days and movie days.

[spoiled-ojousama]

I decide to fuck around and imagine some kinda rpg wherein you generate a planetary system, and the entire game is confined within it, the whole universe being as expansive as any interstellar setting as the point (no ftl, if the system is extrasolar, it's been habitated centuries ago by slowships), overall, going decent, I feel I'm lacking direction tho, but whatever.

idk the name either, Starbound is actually fitting, but the creators of terraria stole that.... so.... hmmm

System generation is rough and not too terribly blocked out, here are my general things:

based on traveller, worlds designated by strings of numbers

Star Generation:

1/3 chance to get a binary, determine distance between stars in AU, 4d6-4, any result above 10 is a multiple of 10, so 11=20, 12=30, so on

Roll the class of each star, which is the 'habitable' zone of it (0-2AU) (habitable zone means it holds surface liquid water, or can at least)

use this class as a multiplier of 10 for how many worlds you have in this system

World Generation:

Distance from star in AU, if result over 10, it's a multiple, so 11=20, 12=30, blah blah, if 0 AU, roll again to figure how many 10ths of an AU it is to the star, this is also the multiple of 360 days for an orbital period

World Size

Hydrography (possibly useful, most of these places can be terraformed tho, so like, this is just a measure of resources that can be sourced, and water is fucking everywhere, so idk)

Atmosphere (assumption is all planets are terraformed when able tho, so idk, world size is more useful to find if it can hold atmosphere, to note, planets that can't hold atmosphere still can, just only for like, 100 000 years, or so I've heard, that being said having diverse atmospheres is fuuuuun)

Rotational Period: day length, effected by distance from sun, within 0AU is basically tidally locked I think, but idk, might not have this.

Chance of orbiting gas giant (low, but because the dice are slanted towards higher AUs, gas giants are more likely to spawn outside.)

Orbital Distance from largest body: (days to travel via primitive rocket, multiply by 9 maybe for orbital period, if a world is a 'largest body, note 0 or something)

Population: based on world size, effected by being in the habitable zone

Tech base: effected by population and world size, impacted by habitability perhaps? 4 classes: Dependant/Inferior, Dependant/Superior, Independant/Inferior, and Independant/Superior, which generally describes how the worlds get their technology and general governance

Tech Level: the sort of generally used technology and mechanisms of a world

Gas Giant Notes:

Distance: pre-input

Habitable zone: possible, correlates to size, basically how many days out a planet has to be to not get dessicated by the gas giant, might use to note worlds in danger of environmental collapse, which is imo an interesting like, plot hook

Rings: number of rings

rotation

population: hinting at aerosat-type cities and all that

Tech base

Tech level

System notes: count out populated range bands (whole AU, not tenths), they should be up to 2 times as far away from the sun as the prior one, if farther, put a ring in it, roll population and tech shit

inviting criticism, will try and make something myself soonish

[bergeronprocess]

9/25/24

It’s raining really hard today and it just made me think about a rainy day in Paldea and how my original/game protagonist character might deal with that.

Also good god I love Scarvi so much but they REALLY needed to give the areas proper names. 

Well, there go my plans, thought Violetta the moment she opened her eyes. The rain was driving hard against her window, the world outside tinged in gray, creating a morning darker than it should have been. Her plan had been to head out to South Province Area 4 and go on a Pokemon catching spree, but immediately she knew the marshy area would be even worse than usual with all this hard rain and it was just going to be a miserable time.

So instead, it was time to create a plan B.

Violetta sat up, stretched and looked over to see her partner Pokemon Sprigatito (Spriggy for short) still curled up asleep in her bed, which just so happened to be shaped like a pizza. She knew that wouldn’t be the case for much longer, though, so she hopped out of bed and immediately saw to filling Spriggy’s bowl with kibble. The sound of the kibble woke her up and she ambled over to get her breakfast, her Everstone clinking on her collar as she walked. She meowed approvingly and began to eat.

“As for me,” Violetta said aloud, her accent giving away her Wyndonian heritage. “Breakfast here, or at the dining hall?” She took a quick inventory of what was available in her cabinets and found a box of Choco-Pokeball cereal, her absolute favorite. “Right, that’s the way!” And so she poured herself a big bowl of it, added some Moomoo Milk from her fridge, then sat at her desk and opened her laptop to browse the internet while she ate.

A quick check of the weather confirmed that this rain would be falling all day. Violetta had already attended all of her required class sessions for the week, so she didn’t have that as a backup plan. No new messages had popped up in her Uva Academy email account overnight and her direct messages inbox was empty on the Uva Grapes social media site. The weather was too dreadful for her to want to visit her mum’s restaurant in Los Platos. She really and truly had no plans.

What to do?!

She got cleaned up and got dressed in casual clothes (not needing to go to class meant no need for uniforms), recalled Spriggy to her Pokeball, made sure she had her purse and left her room.

Having arrived in Paldea at the start of this school year after moving to the region with her mum, Violetta found herself in a surprising new role at Uva Academy. She was popular. All the other kids seemed to be interested in her. The combination of Galarian accent, battling Team Star on her first day, her unusual Cyclizar-like Pokemon with a color that matched her hair and her willingness to give anything a go had endeared her to the population. It was very much the opposite of her experience back in Galar, where she purposefully distanced herself from everyone because her father kept her up to her eyeballs helping to run the bed and breakfast. It was different - and it was nice.

She said hi to everyone she saw as she made her way, using only internal hallways and corridors so as to stay dry, into the library. Her father hadn’t allowed her to have a Pokemon, so she felt she was lagging behind other students in terms of her Pokemon knowledge. Thankfully the library had tomes upon tomes to help her get up to speed. She spent some time quietly reading up on her type advantages - some of them made sense to her, but she really struggled to master others - and then felt her phone vibrate.

It was her best mate Nemona! 

“What’s up today?” read her text message. 

“Literally nothing. Not going anywhere in this rain!” Violetta answered.

“I hear that,” Nemona answered. “Me neither. Classes?”

“Finished them for the week.”

“Same. Nowhere indoors to battle safely either :( Ugh this sucks.” That was a relatively down note for the eternally chipper Nemona, thought Violetta. “Where you at?”

“Library. Reading up on type advantages. I just can’t make heads or tails of Poison type!”

“Just try to remember that the ground safely absorbs poison and that a psychic can see the poison coming and avoid it!” Oh, that’s actually quite a good mnemonic. No wonder she’s a Champion, thought Violetta. “Let’s get some churros at the dining hall.” Well, go on then!

The two girls sat side-by-side, facing outward, all the better to people-watch as they dunked their freshly-made churros into luscious chocolate sauce. Nemona was chatting away about how she battled a third year after class yesterday and totally schooled him, he had no idea what he was up against, he was so mismatched, he…

Then suddenly Violetta felt like she could barely hear Nemona despite her literally being right there. A certain someone walked into the dining hall and time seemed to slow down entirely, like in a movie. Everything else faded away for a moment. He even has his hair up in a Ponytatail, thought Violetta as she felt herself get warmer and felt her heart start to beat faster and faster. I love when he has his hair in a Ponytatail.

Arven made a Beedrill-line straight for the counter. Violetta couldn’t hear whatever he was ordering over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. She absentmindedly continued to dunk the same churro in her chocolate sauce over and over again - it was rapidly becoming a mushy mess - he looked so good saying thank you to the staff members and then receiving his tray of food, she couldn’t stop staring, his arms looked so strong holding that tray, did he work out or something, wait hold on, hold on, is he…

“Little buddy!” he said brightly, smiling from ear to ear as he noticed Violetta sitting there. Overly excited, she waved…the hand that had been dipping that churro so thoroughly, flinging chocolate sauce all over.

“Oye!! Stop that!!” Nemona protested, flailing her arms about, scrambling to grab a napkin.

“Oh no!! Sorry!!” Violetta said with an embarrassed gasp, letting go of the churro so it would plop onto her tray before realizing she’d splattered chocolate sauce all over her shirt. Now she felt mortified, so much so that she just wanted to shrink into her chair. Arven probably thinks I’m mad, or an idiot, or both.

But instead, he just kept smiling, set down his tray containing a mug of Tapu Cocoa topped with pink marshmallows that had Ditto faces on them and put his oversize backpack onto the chair in front of his tray. Unzipping one of its many, many pockets, he retrieved a towel and offered it to Violetta.

“Here,” he said, his voice as warm as that Tapu Cocoa must be. “It’s OK. Happens to us all sometimes.” 

Her hand trembling, Violetta took the towel and somehow managed to thank him before she attempted to tidy up her shirt. She was able to mop up some of the damage, but she still knew she’d have to go back to her room, change shirts and pop over to the laundry room. Guess that’s my plan for the afternoon then, she thought. Wait, this towel’s going to need washing up as well, won’t it…

“Looking better already,” he said, his voice still as warm as the sun. Even though Violetta still felt quite mortified, his voice did seem to comfort her a bit. 

“Ay, I’ll need to wash this shirt,” Nemona mumbled under her breath. 

“Th-thanks again,” Violetta mumbled. She could feel that her ears were warmer than usual, and she suspected she was blushing as well. “Erm, do you want this back?” she asked, gesturing to the dirtied towel. 

Arven chuckled a little bit. “Nah, all good. Keep it, little buddy.”

Little buddy…I kind of hate when he calls me that, but I also kind of love when he calls me that. Is that weird? That’s weird, isn’t it? Does he think I’m weird? Does he think about me at all? Does he have any idea that I fancy him? Violetta’s thoughts were racing.

Nemona, noticing that Violetta was temporarily on another planet, rolled her eyes and then spoke up louder than normal. “Thanks, Arven! That’s so kind of you! You’re so thoughtful!” She was intentionally laying it on thick. “Isn’t he so kind and thoughtful, Vi?”

“What? Huh? Yeah!! Er, yeah! Really…” Violetta turned red from ear to ear. “Really kind and really thoughtful.” She could hardly bear to look directly at him, the feelings were just so intense. “Really…thanks…” 

Arven smiled again. “Of course! Any time.” He then made to pick up his tray again. Oh no, is he leaving?! I’ve driven him off, Violetta lamented. But then he stopped. “Hey, little buddy, do you have any plans for tomorrow?” Her heart leapt in her chest. “I could just use your help with something if you’re not busy.” 

Violetta knew that was his attempt to remain subtle and not broadcast his Herba Mystica quest out loud to everyone in earshot. They’d already been on one outing before, so she was already familiar with this mission.

But Nemona, not knowing any of this backstory, saw it totally differently.

“Oye!!! Arven! Are you asking Violetta out on a DATE?!” she said at full volume. Violetta thought she was going to fall right out of her chair in shock! “Tomorrow is FRIDAY! That’s perfect for a DATE!” Then she grinned as she beheld Violetta and Arven, both as red as Tamato Berries, rendered fully unable to react for what seemed like an eternity.

Until…

“Er,” Violetta said quietly, her mouth dry. “I…would…I would like that.”

Arven looked surprised. “You would?” Violetta just nodded. “Well then…” Now he looked resolute. “Let’s go into town tomorrow night.”

Violetta was thrilled. All of a sudden, this boring rainy day had turned extremely interesting!

[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK # 230:

"I know you are but what am I?"

PEE-WEE AS HIMSELF, the new 4-hour portrait of Paul Reubens, better known as Pee-Wee Herman. Sweet and and heart-warming with fascinating 💯 score on Rotten Tomatoes. I love the interviewing style where they just let him talk without interruptions, editing cuts or suffocating music. 9/10.

🍿

"Here's the last of the calf's foot jelly..."

Pee-Wee Herman mentioned in his biography above how influenced he was by the Disney orphan drama POLLYANNA from 1960. So here's a sentence you don't read here too often:

"I haven't seen Pollyanna in over 60 years". But it's true: Hayley Mills was an early crush for 10-year-old me, and revisiting it today was a revelation. ♻️

It's an idealized world of Edwardian innocence, nostalgic small town Americana and wholesome Victorianism. A picture-perfect Disneyland life-style, with good [white-only] people, the country doctor, the town carnival, the preacher, Ronald Reagan's first wife... And Pollyanna is the eternally-optimistic 11-yo blond, the cutie-pie goody two-shoes, who's able to transform everybody around her into happy people just by "being positive".

The film opens on a butt of a naked 5 year old boy jumping into a river, and is encased in swelling music that tells you how to feel. It's not the kind of cheesy concept I would usually fall for, but I loved its simplistic sunshine nevertheless. 8/10. (Screenshot Above).

🍿

"Nothing is what it seems..."

Re-watching - again - one of my all-time favorites♻️: Nicolas Roeg's artful DON'T LOOK NOW from the banner year of 1973. The brilliant sound editing of the opening scene, the parallel shots of water, and balls, and the color red as markers, the father's grief at the death of his daughter, the growing psychological dread that engulfs like blood, the rich visual style, mood and acting, the premonition, the book laying there "Beyond the fragile geometry of space", Renato Scarpa as the police inspector, the love making scene... It's simply perfect.

There were nearly 30 adaptations of Daphne du Maurier's novels into films, and this was one of the only two she liked. Also, for my money, this is one of the best mood pieces of Venice on film. 10/10.

🍿

"Khashoggi! Khashoggi! Khashoggi! Khashoggi!"

MOUNTAINHEAD is the new absurdist wealth-porn drama from Jesse Armstrong, his directorial debut, and his first effort after 'Succession'. Four megalomaniac tech-bros, including a Musk, a Thiel, and a Zuck gather for a weekend of poker and heartless fun at the secluded Lair on top of the mountain belonging to one of them. The world is imploding, partly because of their wide-spread influence, but they react with an unexpected twist. It's a dark, grotesque and cynical fan-fiction about the billionaire-plutocrats class and their despicable world view. It was surely meant as a satire, but it turned to be very much like a sick documentary. 8/10.

🍿

I tried the highly-acclaimed TV series POKER FACE (2023), even though I'm neither a Natasha Lyonne fan nor Ryan Johnson fan. The napkin-pitch must have been fun to conceive: An alcoholic female Columbo with a magical sixth sense of bullshit detector - on the run from some vengeful Vegas mobsters - solves an unrelated murder mystery every week. But the one-note high-concept became repetitive after 5 episodes, and the whodunit magic ran its formulaic course. With each new pivot and twist the well-used tropes became stupider and less original. Overrated!

🍿

2 EXPERIMENTAL BRAZILIAN CLASSICS:

🍿 THE INHERITANCE (1970), an unusual adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet, transported into the rural Brazilian countryside, populated by Gauchos and cowboys. Nearly without dialogue, it is a primitive, visually-attesting and violent curiosity.

🍿 SOUL IN THE EYE (1973), my first by Zózimo Bulbul, a metaphor about Black Brazilian history. Inspired by Eldridge Cleaver and accompanied by a John Coltrane riff.

🍿

THREE POPLARS ON PLYUSCHIKHA STREET (1968) is a popular near-romance classic from the Soviet Union, which was compared to 'Casablanca'. A simple farm wife travels to Moscow to sell a suitcase full of hams from her backward village, and a nice taxi driver helps her around. The two are attracted to each other and tell each other things - but they never act upon their feelings. [*Female Director*]

Unfortunately, the English subtitles on the YouTube copy were so inaccurate that it was hard to get the exact nuances of what was expressed.

🍿

2 X DOLOMITE:

🍿 "Hey man, how'd my life get so damn small?"

Re-watch ♻️: In DOLEMITE IS MY NAME (2019), Eddie Murphy portrays real-life badass hustler Rudy Ray Moore. He was a comedy and rap pioneer who proved naysayers wrong when his hilarious, obscene, kung-fu fighting alter ego, Dolemite, became a 1970s Blaxploitation phenomenon. It's a happy film, full of fun, funky playfulness and joy. And at one point, the mood changes with the first, faint notes of Louis Armstrong's 'La vie en rose', so you know, this is an important moment. You check out the timestamp and it's exactly 1:00:00. Classic! The trailer.

🍿 So of course I had to check out the original 1975 DOLOMITE. So yeah, he's a badass comedian-pimp who owns a nightclub, and his army of hoes know kung-fu and shit. It's low production value with the boom mic showing up in many of the scenes. There's ridiculous Ghetto-fashion, loud ass-kicking, tits and asses, the Samuel L Jackson origin story.

🍿

"Yeah, the spaghetti is free. But you make the sauce with ketchup. How disgusting!"

SILVER NITRATE (1997), my 3rd by provocateur Marco Ferreri [after 'The Wheelchair' and 'La Grande Bouffe']. This last film before his death was an homage to the centennial of the cinema, a Godard'ian-type 'Cinema Paradiso'. A disappointing pastiche of half-baked ideas and images mixing silent and sound clips. 2/10.

🍿

2 BY NIRVAN MULLICK:

🍿 CAINE’S ARCADE was a heartwarming documentary that went viral in 2012. It told of a sweet 9 yo boy who had built a functioning cardboard arcade in his father's auto part shop in East Los Angeles.

We watched it multiple times when it went around the first round. ♻️

🍿 THE BOX MAN (2002), an eerie stop-animation story about a man living in a cardboard box. It's strange that a talented guy like him only made these 2 random shorts.

🍿

THE SHORTS:

🍿 Another re-watch ♻️: GRAND CANONS (2018). A French artist draws a pencil in watercolor, then a different pencil, then some pens. In quick succession, thousands of everyday objects, from brushes, to panels, to canisters, and hammers are being juxtaposed. Mesmerizing rhythm - insane choreography. 9/10.

🍿 Iranian Hana Makhmalbaf is Mohsen Makhmalbaf's younger daughter. Her 2011 short DOOGY LIFE is basically a puppy video with an anti-cleric message, about having dogs as pets in Iran, which is apparently frown upon, and maybe illegal. Includes a graphic scene of a dog giving birth. [*Female Director*]

🍿 KITCHEN BY MEASURE (2020), a cute Icelandic stop-motion puppetry about a man designing a perfect kitchen for his wife.

🍿 NINEL (2016) is the most popular Romanian short film on the Cinepub YouTube channel, with 20M views. It's an uncomfortable Tinder-type date film. A single woman from Bucharest travels (by bus) to a small provincial town to fuck a guy she only spoke with by phone. He turns out to be weird, and the whole experience is awkward, mildly-traumatic.

🍿

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).

[jasmin-d55]

9/12 Blog Post Week #3

Why and how can the internet be or feel like a safe space for women outside of political organizations? 

For many women not involved in political groups, the internet can feel like a safe space where they can challenge the gender inequality they deal with in their everyday lives. It gives them a place to explore who they are, connect with others, and talk about feminism and gender issues without the restrictions they face offline. Nouraie-Simone (2005) explains that for young Iranian women, the internet becomes "a liberating territory of one’s own—a place to resist a traditionally imposed subordinate identity" (p. 61). It offers them a break from the limitations of public life, allowing them to express themselves freely. In this way, the internet is like the “room of one’s own” that Virginia Woolf described—offering women a personal, empowering space to speak up and take control of their identity.

Reference: Nouraie-Simone, F. (2005). On Shifting Ground: Muslim Women in the Global Era. The Feminist Press at CUNY.

2. Would it be considered right or wrong when people seek out online spaces that affirm and solidify their own social identities? 

Looking for online spaces that support and strengthen one's own social identity is usually seen as a positive thing. People often use the internet to connect with others who share their racial, gender, or sexual identities, which can be empowering. For instance, young people might use social media to express themselves and connect with friends (Boyd, 2004). People of color and LGBTQ+ individuals also use specific websites to affirm their identities and find like-minded people (Bryson, 2004). Nouraie-Simone (2005) notes that for those in restrictive environments, the internet can provide a freeing space to explore and express their identities (p. 61-62). Moreover, research shows that people with health issues use online platforms to talk about their experiences openly, rather than to escape them (Pitts, 2004). So, using the internet to support one’s identity is generally a meaningful and helpful practice.

Boyd, D. (2004). Friendster and Facebook: Social networking site strategies.

Bryson, M. (2004). QueerSisters: Learning to be queer online.

Nouraie-Simone, F. (2005). On Shifting Ground: Muslim Women in the Global Era. The Feminist Press at CUNY.

Pitts, V. (2004). Illness and the body: Online narratives of cancer.

3. How can high tech tools impact and affect poor working class communities negatively when it is supposed to “help those in need?”

Even with the best-laid plans, high-tech instruments can be detrimental to underprivileged populations. Governor LePage of Maine falsely claimed that recipients of TANF were abusing their benefits based on EBT data, despite the fact that only 0.03% of transactions were dubious. Due to the perpetuation of unfavorable perceptions, receiving public aid was seen as "lazy" or "criminal" (Eubanks, 2018, p. 19). Stricter regulations were consequently implemented, burdening families with additional stress (e.g., requiring them to retain receipts for a year). In this instance, technology didn't help—rather, it made things more difficult for individuals who require assistance.Eubanks, V. (2018). Automating inequality: How high-tech tools profile, police, and punish the poor. St. Martin's Press.

4. AI struggles to be able to fully conduct black and asian faces and it is known. Why does law enforcement rely on this to identify these people knowing the risk of putting someone innocent behind bars? 

Facial recognition tech is notoriously bad at identifying Black and Asian faces, but law enforcement still uses it. Research shows that these systems are much more likely to misidentify people of color because they’re often trained on biased data (Buolamwini & Gebru, 2018). For example, Nijeer Parks, a Black man from New Jersey, was wrongfully arrested after being misidentified by facial recognition—he's the third known Black man to face this kind of mistake (Hill, 2020). Even though the risks are clear, police keep using this flawed tech, likely because it seems like an easy solution, but it ends up hurting innocent people. There needs to be more caution and oversight to prevent these errors.

Buolamwini, J., & Gebru, T. (2018). Gender shades: Intersectional accuracy disparities in commercial gender classification. Proceedings of Machine Learning Research, 81, 77-91.

Hill, K. (2020). Another arrest, and jail time, due to a bad facial recognition match. The New York Times. Retrieved from https://www.nytimes.com

[fancoloredglasses]

Star Trek, part 4: The Next Generation (Making the Federation even more Mary Sue)

[All images are owned by Paramount. Please don’t sue me]

The introduction of the Enterprise-A in Star Trek IV opened up the possibility of new adventures of the USS Enterprise, so when it was announced in 1987 that a new Star Trek television series would be starting, fans were hopeful that the crew of the Enterprise would go from the big screen back to the small screen.

They were very wrong.

(Thanks to Great80sTV)

Star Trek: The Next Generation (or simply TNG) takes place 80 years following the original Enterprise’s five-year missions. Gene Roddenberry is once again at the helm of the show, though he is assisted by Rick Berman, who would become the official showrunner following Roddenberry’s death.

The Federation of the 24th century is, if possible, even more utopian than before, having signed a peace treaty with the Klingon Empire (even if more than a few Klingons aren’t happy about it)

The latest ship to carry the legendary name, the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701-D) is a Galaxy class starship, capable of longer missions into deep space. Warp technology has progressed far enough that the formula for warp speed had to be amended. Now (according to fan publications) the calculation is to a power of 5 (meaning that Warp 5 would be 5 x 5 x 5 x 5 x 5, or 3,125 times the speed of light. Using my Alpha Centauri example from my review of the original series, it would take about 9 1/2 hours at Warp 5 to reach Alpha Centauri from Earth, a much more reasonable time frame.

In addition to better Warp and defensive technologies, the Enterprise had a new technology known as holodecks, that made life-like imagery that the crew could touch and interact with, as a way to keep the crew from going stir-crazy. And the holodecks never, ever, ever had anything go wrong inside. Nope. Never. Not even once. (excuse me as I stifle several giggles)

Two other things that were different than previous Enterprises.

(Thanks to April 5, 2063)

Since the Galaxy class was designed to go farther out than was previously possible, crew quarters are large enough to allow the families of the crew to join them on board. Because of this, the saucer section can be detached from the Engineering hull to allow the civilian population to be evacuated in cases of extreme peril.

One other change was in the uniforms.

(Thanks to The Hollywood Reporter)

Starfleet has replaced the uniform used for over 70 years with an almost “throwback” uniform with the uniform color matching divisions (though red is now operations and gold is now service; but don’t worry, we’ll still call the doomed security personnel “Redshirts”)

You will note that the uniforms are all onesies. This will be changed by Season 2 (along with several minor changes as the series progresses, almost as if whoever designed the uniform didn’t plan for the comfort of the wearer)

Now let’s meet this new crew…

The Enterprise’s commanding officer is Captain Jean-Luc Picard (played by Sir Patrick Stewart, a Shakespearean actor who had never seen Star Trek before auditioning) Stewart takes the gravitas he learned on stage and brings it to the 24th century, setting the tone of the series to something a bit more thought-provoking and less fist-provoking (just one question: why is a French starship captain talking with a British accent?)

Picard’s First Officer is Commander William Riker, who tends to be more Kirk-like in his command style. He’s not the type to get into a brawl or anything, but he’s more the smooth-talking type who leads his team when danger presents itself. He tends to lead missions that are away from the ship, preferring the Captain stay within the relative safety of the Enterprise.

The Second Officer and Chief Navigator is Lt. Commander Data (played by Brent Spiner, who previously was known as recurring character Bob Wheeler on Night Court), an android created by Dr. Noonian Soong capable of independent initiative. Despite rumors to the contrary, Data earned the rank he holds. His journey of learning to be as human as possible often puts him at the center of humorous situations (like when he tried growing a beard) He (and it’s been confirmed that he is male, with all of the plumbing to match) is incapable of showing emotion or using contractions, and often gets so wrapped up in what he’s saying that he has to be cut off by whomever he’s talking to due to not knowing when to stop spouting facts.

Some time during the series (it’s never explained in or out of canon when or how), Data acquired a cat, which he named Spot (despite the fact that the cat had stripes) There were four different “Spots” throughout the series and NONE of them looked alike (plus Spot’s gender changed at least once) Spiner has gone on record saying he hated doing scenes that included Spot, as they always took three times as long to shoot due to the cat not cooperating.

The Ship’s Counselor and advisor to the Captain is Lt. Commander Counselor Deanna Troi (played by Marina Sirtis), a member of a telepathic race known as Betazoids (she mainly uses her abilities as an empath, preferring not to use telepathy) Troi is actually half-Betazoid. She previously had a relationship with Riker that ended amiably, which comes back into play every now and then.

Her mother Lwoxana (played by Majel Barrett) is infatuated with Picard, much to his chagrin.

The Chief Helmsman (and eventually Data’s best friend) is Lt. (later Lt. Commander) Geordi La Forge (played by Reading Rainbow host LaVar Burton) La Forge is blind (due to a blind girl wanting a role model on Star Trek and Gene Roddenberry having an ironic sense of humor by making the pilot blind) The object that looks like a banana clip (because that’s what it is!) is a VISOR (Visual Instrument and Sensory Organ Replacement), which is connected to implants on La Forge’s temples that feed his brain sensory data, including infrared and ultraviolet emissions. Starting in Season 2 (following Season 1’s “Chief Engineer of the Week”), La Forge is transferred to Engineering where he remained through the remainder of the series and beyond.

Lt. Worf (played by Michael Dorn) is the first and (thus far) only Klingon to serve on a Starfleet vessel. He was the last survivor when the Romulans attacked a Klingon outpost when he was a boy. A Starfleet crewman found him and raised him. He is still very much a Klingon warrior, though tempered by Federation ideals.

He serves on the Enterprise as…well, I’m not entirely certain what his duties are at the start of the series other than to be the Token Klingon.

[FUN FACT: The prosthetic Dorn wore in season 1 was stolen after the season ended, so a new one had to be crafted but wasn’t an exact replica, which is why he looks different from Season 2 onward]

The Chief Medical Officer is Commander Dr. Beverly Crusher (played by Gates McFadden) Unlike Dr. McCoy, she doesn’t have any memorable catchphrases. Her husband was killed under Picard’s command years prior. She and Picard have unresolved romantic tension throughout the series.

Since families are allowed on the Enterprise, Dr. Crusher is allowed to bring her son Wesley (played by Wil Wheaton, who was previously known for Stand by Me) aboard. Wesley is a child prodigy who…

Look, I’m just gonna say it. I never liked Wesley (though I’ve gotten a lot of respect for Wheaton since he left the series) because he was pretty much a Mary Sue. He knows more about every aspect of the Enterprise than officers who’ve spent years to earn their posts. Despite being a teenager, he refers to the crew as “grown ups” rather than “adults” and (at least in the early parts of the first season) threw tantrums when the people in authority wouldn’t let him get his way.

That being said, he managed to somehow gain the respect of the crew (especially Captain Picard)

(Thanks again to April 5, 2063)

Last, but certainly not first, we have Head of Security and Tactical Officer Lt. Tasha Yar (played by Denise Crosby) Yar comes from a colony that had broken down, now ruled by the strongest. At times it seemed like there could be romantic leanings between Yar and Worf (and there WAS a sexual encounter with Data!) however, this never came to fruition as the season 1 finale will explain.

(Thanks to Frustrated Idealist)

It turns out that Denise Crosby had the same issue that Nichelle Nichols had (her role was essentially window dressing), but unlike Nichols, Crosby didn’t have a famous comedian to urge her to stay so she left the series. With Yar’s death, Worf was moved to her position (which really should’ve been the case from the start, given he’s a Klingon)

In addition to Wesley’s field commission and the transfers of Worf and La Forge (oh, and Riker grew a beard), there were two casting changes for season 2.

Backstage tension between Gates McFadden and the show’s head writer (who had gotten more authority as Gene Roddenberry started stepping back) caused McFadden to be fired. In canon, Dr. Crusher was reassigned to Starfleet Medical (though Wesley stayed aboard for some reason)

Replacing Dr. Crusher is Lt. Commander Dr. Kate Pulaski (played by Diana Maldaur (who had appeared in an episode of the Original Series and was best known for falling down an elevator shaft on LA Law) Dr. Pulaski was far more gruff than Dr. Crusher (more similar to Dr. McCoy, but without the catchphrases), and proved to be unpopular. She was replaced when the writer left and Rick Berman asked McFadden to return for season 3.

Finally, we come to the other Nichelle Nichols story she enjoyed telling.

There was a young black girl who saw Uhura and was amazed there was a black woman on TV who wasn’t a maid (this was the 60s, so that kind of thing was almost unheard of) She would be inspired to become a stand-up comedian, and eventually a popular movie actress. When TNG started, she went to Roddenberry and told him she wanted a role on the show…ANY role!

That little girl’s name?

Whoopie Goldberg, who was given the role of Guinan, the bartender of the Enterprise’s Ten Forward lounge. Guinan is of a race with cosmic-ish abilities (when the Enterprise is involved in a temporal event that changed history, Guinan was the only one who knew something was amiss)

Also over the course of the series we got interactions with Original Series crew members...

Admiral McCoy (retired, now over 130 years old)

Captain Scott (retired, who was suspended in time for over 70 years)

...and Ambassador Spock (well, Vulcans do live over 200 years)

It’s the interactions between the cast members that sets the series apart from the Original Series, and it truly is an ensemble cast; every cast member is given their chance in the spotlight on a number of episodes (particularly Data (in his quest to try to be more human) and Worf (as he tries to find his place between two cultures))

With the Klingons more-or-less friends, Starfleet needed more recurring alien threats to deal with (the Romulans were still around, but were quiet during the early seasons)

The Ferengi are a race that personify the absolute worst a capitalist society can be, prioritizing profit above all else (they even codify it in their code of “ethics” known as the Rules of Acquisition) Unfortunately, rather than being the threat they were intended they turned out to be little more than comic relief.

The Cardassians are a militaristic race bent on conquest (there are certainly a lot of those hanging around in the galaxy, aren’t there?) They tend to be cruel to those they conquer. However, to prevent a war the Federation ceded a number of Federation colony worlds that once belonged to the Cardassians, leaving those who chose to stay to fend for themselves against their new rulers (this may be the first crack in the utopian facade the Federation shows) Many Federation citizens (including a number of Starfleet personnel) formed a resistance group known as the Maquis, who are dedicated to freeing the colonies left to the Cardassians. Both the Federation and the Cardassians treat the group as terrorists.

Q (a member of the Q Continuum, played by John deLancie) is an omnipotent entity who appears occasionally to attempt to teach the Enterprise (and more importantly Captain Picard) about the fallacies of humanity and the dangers of What Lies Beyond. Many times his antics are played for laughs, but unlike the Ferengi there is always a dangerous undercurrent to Q’s games. Unfortunately, his antics have gotten Q in trouble with his fellow Q, and at one point he had been stripped of his powers and made human for a brief period.

Q is directly responsible for introducing the Federation to the gravest threat to the galaxy…

The Borg.

The Borg are humanoid beings that have been enhanced with cybernetics and, due to their hive mind, are able to adapt quickly to dangers (a phaser will down a few Borg, but they will quickly adapt and be able to repel future blasts on that light frequency) Any time they encounter a new species, they assimilate the species and their technology into their Collective.

The series ran for 7 seasons, beginning and ending with Q putting the humanity on trial (with the crew of the Enterprise playing the role of defendant for the entire race) The series laid the groundwork for two spin-off series set in the same era (plus at least one that debuted after 2010, so I won’t be covering it), but those are tales for future reviews.

If you would like to watch the series it’s available on Paramount+, PlutoTV, or behind your favorite paywall. If you would like to see an episode reviewed, please let me know!

One quick note before I go: I would like to show the tale of the first Meeting of the Generations (which occurred during the filming of Star Trek V), as told by Wil Wheaton.

[DISCLAIMER: This is told entirely from Wheaton’s perspective, and I’m sure William Shatner has a different take on it, but given all the stories about Shatner over the years, I’m inclined to think this is closer to the truth]

(Thanks to Eric Webb)