#as far as repeating try to avoid it on most essays it's best to be concise
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SHE - L.E
SUMMARY: Through the years (Y/N) has fallen in love with Lily Evans while she falls for James Potter.
PAIRING: Lily Evans x femSlytherin!reader.
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
WARNINGS: Angst with a sad ending. OOC Severus Snape. Mention of death. I cried while writing this so beware.
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Am I allowed to look at her like that?
Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at?
Lily was laying face down in your bed, she wore a long T-shirt that barely covered her thighs, while you changed your outfit. You tried not to look out of respect, however you couldn't help but worry for your sanity. After all, being in love with your best friend meant having to endure looking at her without being able to touch her or kiss her.
If someone asked you when you realized you were completely smitten with the redhead at your side, you would answer in a heartbeat. Fourth year, Slytherin had won the Quidditch cup after a rough game against Gryffindor. All her housemates were booing and yelling, but not Lils, she ran to the other side of the pitch and tackled me in a bear hug.
“What do you think?” You asked her. Lily dropped her magazine on the bed and turned to look at you, her bright green eyes roaming your body as she examined the lime green dress you wore for your friends date.
“Gosh (Y/N) You're such a babe.” You knew she meant it, but not in the way you would've liked. Still you smiled brightly at her. But deep inside you, you longed for the day when those words were more than just friendly, when Lily Evans looked at you with the same adoration and love that you had for her.
And she smells like lemongrass and sleep
She tastes like apple juice and peach
You would find her in a polaroid picture
And she means everything to me
Lily Evans always carried around that peach flavored chapstick everywhere. It was her thing, her perfume was a green apple scent that you gifted her for her birthday, you didn’t know, but she wore it everyday. It made her feel closer to you, her best friend.
You on the other hand were never seen without that muggle camera, your mother had given it to you and you carried it everywhere, most of the polaroids you took were of the daily Hogwarts life, studying at the library, hanging at the Three broomsticks, spending time with Severus and Lily.
The picture you cherished the most however, was a polaroid of the Gryffindor redhead, Lily appeared smiling at the camera, her head tilted a little bit to the right, her hair loose while her eyes were closed, the sunlight couldn’t have been more perfect because it captured her essence brightly.
“Are you ever going to tell her?” Severus asked, clearly annoyed at your lack of bravery and Lily’s obliviousness. You looked at the other side of the great hall, Potter was talking to her happily while Lily rolled her eyes, but you could see the smile that creeped on her lip.
“Let it go, Sev. You and I both know it would only end badly.”
I'd never tell
No I'd never say a word
And oh it aches
But it feels oddly good to hurt
“Merlin, When is he going to give up?” You said, your tone clearly showing how annoyed you were at James Potter, maybe it was the fact that he could express how he felt without the fear of judgment, of losing Lily because he never really had her. But then again, you didn’t have her either.
“I don't know, but he's getting less insufferable. Don't you think so?” You rolled your eyes, Lily was caught off guard by this, you were never one to act that way. If only she knew just how badly you wanted to tell her, show her how you truly felt.
“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” She asked, completely oblivious to the bad feeling that settled into your chest, you got a hold of your books and abruptly stood up. “I’m perfectly fine, I just remembered I have to go and ask professor McGonagall something about that essay.”
With that, you left the library, the tears that rolled down your cheeks went unnoticed by Lily, but not by a certain glass wearer Gryffindor that had been watching you from afar.
She smells like lemongrass and sleep
She tastes like apple juice and peach
You would find her in a polaroid picture
And she means everything to me
You loved to spend your nights on the Slytherin common room, especially when it was cold, you were wrapped around a warm blanket, laying on the love seat while the fire of the chimney brought you comfort, the book in your hand that narrated the love story of two naive teenagers spoke to you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?”
“Huh?” You raised your head from your book to look at Lily, she stormed into the empty common room, something she did since both you and Severus were Slytherins and you used to sneak her in. She was just back from her first ever date with James Potter, a few weeks ago she had asked for your opinion on her outfit, and ever since then, you both were drifting apart.
“I asked what on earth is going on with you lately? You haven't spoken to me in three days, you act distant, and all of a sudden James tells me that he thinks you're in love with me!”
You noticed the tears that rolled down your cheeks, your heart was beating so rapidly that you believed it would get tired and stop. “Would it be so bad if I was?” Your voice sounded so vulnerable, broken.
She stood there, just looking at you with her mouth parted, at a loss for words. “Wh-what?”
“You stood from your seat, fully facing Lily, her fiery red hair matched the fire that you felt at the pit of your stomach. “Would you be so disgusted by me if I told you that I love you? That I have fallen for a girl who happens to be my best friend?”
“ (Y/N) I-'' She tried to carry on but you continued talking, getting closer and closer to the girl you loved. “That the reason why I needed space was because i can't stand the thought of you and James Potter because that should be me and-”
This time, it was her who took the next step, Lily got a hold of your shirt and pulled you towards her, the movement so sudden you would have fallen if it wasn't for the pair of hands that held you by the waist.
All your life, you dreamed for the moment your lips met, and now that it was happening, your mind couldn't think about anything but her. Lily Evans tasted just like that stupid peach flavored chapstick, the smell of her perfume was so intoxicating and you felt like you were floating. And at the same time, it was such a bittersweet feeling that was installed on your chest.
Lily pulled apart just as abruptly as she kissed you, both of you had tears in your eyes, she wouldn't even look you when she turned around and without a single word spoken, left, leaving you behind. All you could think was how it was perhaps the ending of your story, one that never even had the chance to begin.
And I'll be okay
Admiring from afar
Cause even when she's next to me
We could not be more far apart
And she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall
But to her
I taste of nothing at all
A month had gone by and even if you tried to speak to Lily, she avoided you at all costs, by the second week you had accepted that not only had you lost a friend, you had lost your other half.
So, taking matters into your own hands, you stood outside the Gryffindor common room, trying to ignore the deathly glares you received from the other members of the house.
Once you spotted Lily leaving the common room, you got a hold of her hand. “I have to tell you something.”
All it took was a look into your eyes to know that this was your last chance of making things right between both of you, so she nodded as she said goodbye to Marlene and Alice.
As Lily guided you through the halls and into an empty classroom, you felt your chest tightening once more, what you were about to do had you in tears already. She opened the door and you threw yourself into her arms.
“I love you Lils,” You said, the tears that fell from your eyes right into her shirt were the last thing you worried about, her arms wrapped around your torso and she held you just as tightly.
For a couple of seconds that was all you did, hold each other.
And then you broke apart, looking into those green eyes once more. Shit, maybe green has been your favorite color for all the wrong reasons. You leaned in and pressed a kiss on her cheek. Your hands were intertwined together as you whispered once more. “I love you, Lils.”
“James asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you-” You smiled, although it didn't quite reach your eyes, you promised yourself this was the last time you cried over her. Over something that never happened. “Because, it's my way of saying goodbye Lily, I'm sorry,”
After that day, the world was just a little gloomier, you would find her looking at you during class, cheering from the stands while you played Quidditch, but not once did you allow yourself to look back. Often you wondered if she too had been just as enamored by you as you were with her. Maybe she just couldn't take that leap of faith with you.
Had you known that it would be the last time you'd speak to her, you would have repeated those same three words until it stopped making sense, in the end, Lily Evans died young, and you went on to live with the memory of those piercing green eyes and the taste of that cherry chapstick.
She meant everything to me...
#lily evans#lily evans x reader#lily evans angst#james potter#severus snape#slytherin#slytherin reader#lily evans x fem!reader#angst#harry potter fandom#hp#the marauders#Youtube
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Fine Line
Summary: There’s a fine line between love and hate and you’re not too sure which side you’re on with Harry anymore. Part Two to What Kind of Man
Words: 5.0k
Warnings: I said this in the first part & will repeat it. This is purely fictional. This in no way reflects how I feel Harry would handle this situation in reality. I’m really using Harry as a character. DO NOT READ THIS if you feel the situation of cheating and staying together will impact you strongly or offend you. That is not what I want when reading my story.
Notes: I urge those uncomfortable with cheating to avoid this. I also urge those who dislike this kind of writing to avoid. I came up with this story at a point in my life where my parents were divorcing, I was going through a break up and was lost. I’ve decided to finish this story because I put so much effort into it for it to end unfinished feels wrong. I can’t speak for anybody and how they would handle this situation.
Thank you for 1000 followers. That is crazy!
-
You’ve got my devotion.
But man, I can hate you sometimes.
...
You sunshine, you temptress.
My hands at risk I fold.
-
April.
The first two sessions had gone by in relative silence. You weren’t sure what to say to answer the therapists questions. You weren’t sure you even wanted to talk at all.
“Y/N.” You look up startled out of your thoughts. “Do you feel like talking today?” Her eyes are kind and understanding. Her degrees hang behind her head and you zone in on them. Dr. Walsh had been the only therapist who could take you on in April. Any others that you called had informed you their next opening for new patients wasn’t until the end of May.
You supposed it could have been worse. So far, Dr. Walsh had come across as kind and understanding of your hesitance. She had never forced you to talk and had only tried to get you involved on your own accord.
“What would we talk about?” You ask instead of ignoring in silence like you had the past two sessions. You can see Harry turn his head to look at you out of the corner of your eye, but you remained focused on the two degrees hanging behind Dr. Walsh’s head.
UCLA. “What year did you graduate?” You ask before she can answer your original question. “From UCLA.”
“We can talk about whatever you want. How you two met. Your kids.” You raise an eyebrow and she smiles. “1996.”
“I thought we were supposed to talk about our issues. Why would we talk about our kids or how we met?” You answer her question. You can tell Harry’s eyes are moving back and forth between the two of you, like he’s unsure if he should get involved in the conversation.
Dr. Walsh shakes her head. “Sometimes the best place to start is with what makes you two happy. You’re here to work on your relationship, right?”
The two of you nod. “Then I’m not worried about starting with the most painful part of your relationship. I want to learn about it. If I can learn about your relationship then I have more knowledge on how to help you repair it, if that’s what you want.”
“Okay.” You agree. You feel some of your tenseness fade away. You were here for a reason. “We went to UCLA too.”
She nods. “You did? Were you studying the same thing? Is that how you two met?”
You look down at your fidgeting hands and let out a laugh. “Not quite. I was a creative writing major and Harry was political science. We met in a World History course our sophomore. It was a general requirement class.”
“Yeah.” Harry nods as if the memory is coming back to him. “Professor Ward.”
“Mind if I sit here?” You look up and your breath hitches. He was handsome. That was your first thought. Bright eyes and a sweet smile that could take anyone’s breath away.
You nod hastily. “Yeah. It’s all yours.” You move your notebook over so he has a bit more room on his half of the table.
“Thanks.” He drops his books on the table and flops down into the chair. “Harry.” He reaches a hand towards you and you meet him halfway.
You offer your name up easily and his smile brightens. “What brings you into a World history course?” He asks quietly as the last bit of students rush into the few seats left up front.
You smile. “Creative writing majors have to take one broad history course before focusing on any history of writing courses. Ward’s class was the only one with openings that didn’t start at eight.”
“Creative writing. That’s cool.” Harry’s spinning the pen in between his fingers. “You want to be a writer?”
You smile nervously and nod. “That’s the goal. What brings you to Ward’s World History?”
Harry laughs softly. “I’m a political science major, this is just a required gen ed.”
“Political science. What’s your plan with that? Am I sitting next to a future senator?” You give him a teasing smile.
“Lawyer.”
You shrug, “Senators have to start somewhere.” The professor comes in and that halts the conversation from going anywhere else. As Professor Ward goes over the syllabus you see a piece of paper slide across the table towards you. You look over at Harry, but he’s looking ahead with a smirk on his face.
You unfold the paper and there is a number written in messy handwriting taking up the small page.
“Bold.” You whisper to him and he shrugs. “I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.” He whispers back.
“So you both liked each other right away?” You look up as you're dragged out of the memory of meeting Harry.
“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I think so.”
“Definitely.” Harry agrees. “I’m lucky I was running late that day. The seat next to her was the only good seat left. Plus, she helped edit all my essays. I was a shit writer before her.”
You smile softly at the memory. “Y/N?” You look up and Dr. Walsh is watching you closely.
“That class sucked.” You can’t help but let out a laugh. “We had so many essays. He’s right, he was a shit writer before me.”
You finally spare a look over at Harry and he’s watching you with soft eyes. “That was our first semester of sophomore year. We were attached at the hip after that.” You look back down at your hands.
“Did you guys start dating right away?” She asks.
“Pretty much. We started dating right before winter break.” Harry answers for the both of you.
She nods as she eyes the clock on the wall. “Does that memory still make you happy?”
You nod. Your memories hadn’t been ruined. But that didn’t really mean anything when you could barely be in the same room as Harry now. “Of course. But… Things are different. We’re not twenty-somethings with no responsibility. We’re parents. Partners. We’re supposed to have each other’s back. And now it feels like we don’t.”
Harry looks over at Dr. Walsh as she studies you. She was obviously taking in your words and processing a response to them. “I think the biggest question you need to find the answer to is, do you want to fix this marriage?” She finally says looking pointedly at the distance between you two.
You pause and mull over her question. “Can we fix it?” You ask quietly.
She shrugs. “I can’t answer that for you. It’s my job to help you find the answer, not give it to you. What I can tell you is; Sometimes people walk out of this with a new appreciation and love. Sometimes people realize it can’t be fixed. Nothing is wrong with either, it’s just up to you two to figure out which one it is.”
You look over at Harry and find him watching you with hopeful eyes. You knew he wanted to and felt like you both could fix this.
But you weren’t sure. “I don’t know.”
-
The drive home is silent for the most part. Music playing softly from the radio as you stare out the passenger side window.
“I don’t know what to say.” Harry says as he pulls the car into the driveway. He puts it into park but doesn’t turn it off so the music is still playing as he turns to look at you.
Gemma’s car was parked behind your own. You see the curtain move slightly which is a telltale sign that a child was peeking out the window. It quickly falls back into place when your eye catches Serena’s.
You shake your head and look back down at your lap. “What is there to say?”
Harry shuts his eyes and you see his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “I want to fix this. I’m trying. Do you want to fix this?”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t try and guilt me, Harry. I didn’t cheat, you did. This… This mess isn’t my fault and it shouldn’t be my job to fix it.”
“I’m not trying to guilt-“ He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “That was a shitty thing to say. I know. I just want to know if we’re gonna make it through this. If you think we have a chance.”
You look over at him with watery eyes. “I don’t know. All I can think about is you fucking another woman while I was home with our kids. Telling them that you were just busy. That we would have dinner tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.”
Harry flinches like you’ve hit him. You turn away but don’t stop talking. “I know a month may not seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things. We’ve been together for seventeen years, so what’s a month?” You laugh humorlessly. “But how long have we been distant? How long have you been staying late and missing dinners?”
“I don’t know.” Harry whispers and you see him clench his eyes in an attempt to stop tears from falling.
“It’s been months, Harry.” You look around the yard. Your and Persephone’s plants needed maintenance. “We had Jack and then everything changed. We stopped date nights. Family game nights faded from existence. We stopped having sex. I… I don’t know what happened.”
Harry doesn’t say anything so you sigh. “I’m trying, Harry. It may not seem like it to you, but I’m trying.” You unbuckle yourself and move to get out of the car.
Harry reaches out and wraps his hand gently around your wrist. “I know.” He stresses the word. “I know you are.”
You nod and the two of you just watch each other for a moment. You break away from him first. “I’m sure the kids are peeking out the window. We’ve been out here long enough.”
The both of you climb out of the car silently. The door flies open by the time you reach the second step of your front porch.
“Mama!” Oliver comes flying out towards you. “Mama. Never leave us again. Baby Jack is crazy.” He grips you tight and you laugh, the tension immediately leaving your body as you hug him back.
Gemma comes to stand in the entrance with Jack on her hip. She gives you a weak smile and you smile back. “Come on, I’m sure Aunt Gem is dying to go home after watching you crazy lot for two hours.”
Gemma leaves quickly handing Jack off to Harry and giving you and Harry both kisses on the cheek. “Let me know about spring break, Y/N!” She calls as she rushes out your front door.
“Spring break?” Harry asks as he bounces Jack in his arms.
“We’ll talk about it later.” You say sparing a glance down to Oliver, who’s still attached to your leg. Harry nods before moving towards the living room. Oliver follows behind him and you’re left in the front hall alone.
You take a deep breath before following them.
-
Harry sleeps in the guest room. You can’t bring yourself to allow him back into the room you two shared.
His clothes remain in his half of the closet though and his toiletries had remained in place on the bathroom counter, so you saw him every night before going to sleep.
Dr. Walsh had suggested the two of you used this time to try and reconnect. “You don’t have to sleep in the same bed yet. It’s completely normal for you to need time apart, Y/N. But I do want you two to talk before bed every night, I know you have four kids and it may be your only true alone time to reconnect emotionally before you ever do anything physically, even just sleep.” She had offered at the end of your session after you had admitted you weren’t sure how you felt about Harry and your relationship now. “This is a good way to figure out if you can still see yourself together.”
You loved him. You didn’t need her to help you answer that question. He was the father of your children. You had over a decade of amazing times together. But you couldn’t look at him without your chest aching.
“What was Gemma talking about spring break?” Harry sits on the lounge chair you two had placed in the corner of your room. Jack’s bassinet used to be next to it, but he had recently moved into his own room.
You sit on the end of your bed with your arms crossed over your chest. “Olly has been asking if we could go to Disney World. I was talking to her about maybe surprising him and Serena for their birthday since it falls during the kids break this year.”
“That sounds really nice.” Harry smiles and you nod. “I’m sure the four of them would love it. I can put in for the week tomorrow. I have a bunch of paid time off I need to use up.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “You want to go? We haven’t been on vacation since the beach trip before Jack was born.”
Harry’s face turns stoic. “Of course I want to go. I told you I was going to spend more time with guys.” He walks towards the dresser you have pushed against the wall. “Here, pull your laptop out, let's book this now so we can get a good room.”
You gape at him. It had only been an idea you were considering for the twins birthday. Although, it was coming up and you were running out of time to make a decision.
“Are you sure you can get the time off?” You ask instead of listening to his direction.
Harry nods resolutely. “Can I?” He points next to you and you nod. You lean over to your nightstand, where you had left the computer the night before while writing.
You push it open. “I’m gonna go get Persephone.” You stand up and hand the laptop to Harry. “She can help plan some stuff with us, so we know what these young kids want.” You give Harry a weak smile and he nods.
You shake your hands out as you make your way down the hall towards your eldest daughter’s room. You knock softly on the door, “Seph?”
“Come in.” She calls and you push the door open. She’s got her show paused and is curled into her comforter. “What’s up, mom?”
“Can you help your dad and I with something?” You ask hesitantly. “I know it’s late, it’ll be quick.”
Persephone gives you the same dimpled smile Harry has, “Of course. I was gonna be up binge watching this show anyways.” She unwraps herself from the blanket and grabs her phone before following you back to your bedroom.
“Hey, lovebug.” Harry gives her your favorite smile. One he’s somehow reserved solely for you children. Soft and bright while his eyes shine proudly.
“Hi, daddy.” She plops herself down next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead and the smile that spreads across Persephone’s face is contagious.
You take a seat next to her, so she is squished in between the two of you. “You know how Olly has been asking about Disney?” You ask quietly. You and Harry had put the twins down an hour ago, but Oliver was known to sneak away from his room for a cuddle with you.
She nods instead of verbally answering and Harry pulls up the booking website. “Your mom had the great idea to surprise the twins for their birthday.”
“Really?” Seph asks excitedly. Your family trips usually consisted of beaches or visiting grandparents. The last time you had been to Disney was when it was just the three of you. You weren’t sure she could even remember most of the trip.
You bump her shoulder softly with an excited grin. “Really. Jack is old enough that he can get probably through a day there without screaming his head off. Aunt Gem said that she could come to help watch him so you three can have fun.”
“That sounds awesome!” She lifts her head from Harry’s shoulder and looks at you happily. “What did you need my help with?”
“Picking out where to stay. You guys are the focus of the trip so we want you to stay where you want to, not us.” You gently take the laptop from Harry and place it in her hands. “So tell us your top three and then dad and I will pick from there so you still get to enjoy some of the surprise aspect.”
She scrolls through the website for a few minutes while the three of you sit there quietly. You glance over at Harry hesitantly. He’s looking down at your daughter with bright eyes.
You quickly look away when his eyes move up to meet yours. “Okay. I added the three I liked the most to your favorites! Did you guys need anything else?”
You both shake your head. “Just keep this a secret. It’s going to be a surprise.” You smile excitedly at your eldest. She had grown so much, but seeing the childlike shine of excitement in her eyes brought you a bounty of joy. She was still your baby.
Persephone nods before handing the laptop back over to Harry. She presses a kiss to both your and his cheeks before hopping up and making her way towards your door.
You give her a confused smile when she pauses and turns back around to face you again. She takes in a nervous breath before speaking.
“It’s really good to be all together again.” The words are quiet and fearful. “Um. I love you guys. Goodnight.” She turns on her heel and bolts out the room and back down the hall.
You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and look down at your lap. “I’m sorry.” Harry whispers. His tone is similar to her’s. Quiet and full of fear. “I love you all. I know I hurt you, but you are all my world. Those kids are what I’m most proudest of.”
“I know.” You look over at his lap. His hands curled tightly around the laptop still open in his lap. “I never doubted how much they meant to you Harry. I know how much you love those kids.”
You want to reach out and pull his hand into yours. Something you usually did when Harry was scared or nervous. But you kept your hand firmly planted in your lap, unable to give him that forgiveness.
“I was never afraid of you not loving them. I was-“ You stop unsure of what to say. What were you afraid of? “I was afraid that I had given so much and you still wouldn’t have chosen me.”
Harry looks over at you with sad eyes and you let out a humorless laugh. “Harry, I’ve never regretted having Persephone so young. I’ve never regretted being home. But, I just want you to show that… that you appreciate me.”
“I do appreciate you.” Harry says quietly. “I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like I don’t.” He places the laptop in the empty space in between you. You watch as he works through what to say, his tension clear in his eyes.
“But…” He trails off like he’s still unsure of what to say. “I’m here. I want to be here. I want to show you that I appreciate you.” Harry takes a deep breath and places a hesitant hand on your back. “As long as you’ll have me.”
You take a deep breath. “Let’s focus on this... I want the twins to have a great birthday and for Seph to have a great spring break. Things have been tough for them too. We can figure the other stuff out later.”
Harry doesn’t say anything, just nods and pulls the laptop back towards him. You can tell he wants to though. That he wants to talk this out and get in deep.
You just can’t bring yourself to do it.
-
“A family vacation can be very cathartic for couples struggling.” Dr. Walsh gives the two of you a kind smile after you reveal what you had planned for your kids. “But, it can also bring about stress at being in such a small space for such a long time. Especially when you’re still struggling to communicate.”
“I’m really trying.” You say quietly, on edge at the idea of you and Harry bringing about any stress on a trip meant to be for your kids. “We both are. I think.”
“I know.” She gives you an understanding look. “You guys do your homework. You said it yourself, your nightly conversations aren’t painful anymore. But talking about small things is only the beginning of strengthening your communication.”
“So you want us to talk about the affair?” You ask. “The big thing.”
She shakes her head. “Eventually. Sweeping it under the rug or ignoring it can only cause more tension. But there are other things I’m sure you want to talk about as well.”
“Like what?” Harry asks. He glances over at you before looking back at Dr. Walsh.
“Anything either of you felt was an issue.” She explains. “Big or small. Anything you think contributed to your distance. Try to remember, you’re not placing blame.”
“Not even for the affair?” Harry sighs and you shut your eyes. “How can I not place blame? That’s not my fault.”
“No.” She agrees. “I’ve never agreed with placing blame for something like that on the victim. Do you want to start with talking about it?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to make sure we’re not finding all these so-called small issues so we can then excuse the cheating. I won’t do that.” You say disdainfully.
“We don’t expect you to.” She glances over at Harry. He looks pained but he nods in agreement. “Of course not.” He says quietly.
You take a deep breath in before nodding. “Okay, then where do we start?”
“A lot of times, affairs feel like they come out of nowhere. They do.” She gives you an assuaging look. “But it’s also important to remember that there were issues before it and they’re still there to be worked through. We want to work through the big problem, but oftentimes couples work through that but not other things and end up separating.”
You nod and take a deep breath trying to think through issues. Things had felt perfect during your pregnancy with Jack.
You were excited, a fourth child and it was a boy, you and Harry had been hoping for another boy. Harry had even planned the small family vacation to the beach so you could enjoy time together as a family of five before it became six.
“We argued.” You say quietly. The family vacation slips from your mind as your exhausted tears come to your memory. “Um. I had Jack and I was exhausted and we argued. It was barely even an argument.”
“He still won’t eat?” Harry asks, coming into the bedroom. He was still in his suit from court and you feel angry heat flush through you at how put together he looked. How well rested and up he looked.
You shake your head silently. Harry seems to not notice your tense jaw as he pushes his way into the closet to find clothes for the night. You turn to look down at Jack laying restlessly in your arms. Tears rush to your eyes as you stand and place Jack in his bassinet and finally get a look at yourself in the mirror hanging next to the closet door.
You hadn’t showered since Persephone had left earlier the previous day and after running around to get the twins settled with Gemma and taking care of the baby all day you felt tense and gross.
Harry comes out and smiles kindly as he watches you step towards the ensuite. “Can you watch him for a moment? I need a shower. I feel gross and it’ll help me relax. My nurse said getting tense makes it harder to breastfeed.”
Harry looks down at his watch. “Something more important?” You ask before he can get a word out. “No. Just- I was supposed to hop on a conference call with Jeff, I’ll reschedule.” Harry tries to change the tone of the conversation, but you’ve already seen red. “Y/N, go shower.”
“I’m sorry.” You say instead of moving. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you with your child for half an hour.” You know you don’t mean the harsh words and that you’ll probably regret them all after you’ve taken a break but- “I’m home all day with him, but fuck if I ask you to watch him so I can shower.”
Harry’s eyes widen at the cold tone. He crosses his arms defensively across his chest as he takes a step back from you, even though he was already several feet away. “I never said I was inconvenienced. You asked a question and I answered honestly. I don’t have a problem spending time with my own child, Y/N.”
Your turn on your heel and stock into the ensuite and slam the door shut behind you. You hear Jack begin to fuss more and Harry’s whispers as he presumably picks the baby up. There wasn’t a time in the fifteen years you’ve had children that you’ve ever thought Harry didn’t want to spend time with his kids. You still didn’t. But the exhaustion and stress that you felt with Jack was unlike anything you’d felt before and Harry hadn’t seemed to notice.
“It felt like you weren’t paying attention.” You say quietly. “It felt like you had no idea what was going on.” Dr. Walsh trains her eyes on you as Harry’s eyes flick around trying to figure out what argument you were talking about.
“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. Jack is curled in your arms as he eats and a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. You feel shameful at the words that had slipped out in an attempt to make Harry notice how upset you were. “I know you’re not inconvenienced by our kids.”
Harry turns his head to look at you. He had been silently typing out emails as you fed Jack, upset but refusing to leave your side. “What’s wrong?” He asks as he slams the laptop shut.
You want to tell him. How stressed and anxious you felt. How much tougher being with Jack was than any of your other children. How insecure it made you feel. You should tell him.
But.
“How could I tell you all that and not sound like I’m angry at our child? Not sound like an awful mother?” You choke on the words.
Harry stares at you with what looks like pity and you turn away. You didn’t want pity. You wanted help. You wanted him to understand. “You don’t sound like a horrible mother. You sound tired.”
“What stopped you from telling him this?” Dr. Walsh prompts gently as you and Harry fall into silence. Her eyes flicker to Harry as he watches you with the same sad eyes.
You shrug. “I just wanted him to notice. I wanted to feel like he still noticed me.” You let out a breath. “We love Jack, but Jack wasn’t exactly planned. We weren’t sure if we wanted a fourth and had only just begun talking about it. When I found out I was pregnant and figured out how excited I felt, I knew I wanted to keep him.” You explain to the therapist carefully. “We decided that we wanted him, but he would be our last one.”
You think of the doctors appointments and heavy warnings that a fourth pregnancy could wreck havoc on your body.
“But I’m not twenty-three anymore and the pregnancy was really tough on me. And Harry knew. So he took care of the kids when I couldn’t and he planned vacations for me before I gave birth and it-” You breath catches. “It felt like you didn’t care anymore once I had him because I wasn’t in danger anymore. But Jack is stubborn and I was struggling.”
Harry takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to steady your trembling hands.
It’s a start. You guess.
-
“I didn’t realize how tough Jack was on you.” Harry says quietly that night. You had been dreading sitting in the awkward silence.
You shrug. “Babies are tough. Persephone was tough because we were so young. Serena and Oliver were tough because they were twins.” Your baby monitor makes a sound and you glance over to see Jack stretching his arms.
You sigh and stand up. “Jack was… Jack was tough in a way I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it was because I had four kids all of the sudden or because you started working more. I was exhausted all the time.”
You leave before he can say anything in response, but you know he’ll follow you to Jack’s room. You push the door open quietly and hear Jack’s soft giggles.
“Hello, handsome.” You whisper as he looks up at you. “What’s got you awake?”
You pick him up gently and bring him over to the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room. Harry leans against the door jam.
You rock back and forth with Jack in your arms and Harry watched with gentle eyes. You look up as Harry begins to speak quietly. “I wish I could take everything back. Just… Redo this past year.”
You look down at Jack and run a gentle finger over his cheek. “You can’t. You don’t get redos in real life.”
The room is silent as you rock your baby back to sleep and Harry watches.
-
We’ll be a fine line.
-
Notes: Title song Fine Line. This is really a filler for the next piece, I needed April to get to May :/
A few things; I have them staying together written. While this has been my plan since I begun writing this part & the next, if it’s something people wanted, I could do two different endings.
Like I said, I wrote this at a low place for me and had always imagined it as some type of closure that I never got from my parents situation or from my ex. Cheaters suck. But, some people do work through it. Some people can’t. That’s the beauty of our autonomy, we decide. I got a lot (and I mean a lot) of messages urging me to be mindful of impressionable people who may read this piece & with that I want to say; Your situation is not this one. Some cheaters will always be cheaters. This is not in anyway trying to convince you that a toxic relationship is okay. Or that cheating is okay. Please remember this is fiction and not meant to do anything other than entertain you! This is a piece I wrote & a piece whose ending I choose. Thank you for reading. I love every single person who read What Kind of Man and thought, I want more of this person’s writing.
(please do not be mean to me, I write for fun & am very emotional thank u)
#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles writing#my writing#tee answers
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MILGRAM theory time: Haruka!
This isn't going to go super in depth (famous last words) but there's a few heavily debated parts of Haruka's MV I want to share my findings/thoughts on because I think this is my new special interest and during my quest to get best boy's song to 1 million views I have been looking over his first MV with a fine tooth comb so to speak.
Disclaimer: As the Jackalope said in the "This is the MILGRAM" trailer, we don't necessarily know everyone's crime from just the first video, its possible that a lot of things will be re-contextualized in the second MV, however I am not psychic or bilingual and thus will only be working with content released before August 20th 2021 and translated into English (which could cause some language/cultural details to be lost on me as translation is not a 1 to 1 process).
TW for discussions of ableism, child abuse, murder and animal death.
Also this is really long so sorry to all the people that follow me for non-MILGRAM stuff
Firstly, I want to start on the topic of Haruka as a person.
He is disabled. He does not have 'the mind of a child' (although he is 17, making him legally a minor in both North America and Japan). He is not just 'child-like'. And he is not mentally ill (well he might be, in the sense that many disabilities like Haruka's have strong comorbidities [where a person has two or more conditions but neither directly causes the other] with anxiety, depression and PTSD, but usually when I see people talk about him 'struggling with mental illness' they go on to refer to aspects of his disability).
Sometimes on tumblr, people like myself, will see canonical traits written into a character and identify them as being traits associated with our disabilities/mental illness and headcanon them as such. Sometimes this even involves saying things like "It's basically canon!" Although we understand that these characters were probably not the result of a writer intending to write a disabled person.
When I say that Haruka is being written as a person with a neurodevelopmental disability, I mean the writer intended to write a disabled character and wrote them in a way that they wanted the audience to pick up on.
As an autistic person (which is one of many neurodevelopmental disorders and also something I probably didn't have to specify because who else would be writing an essay about a series they got into a few days ago at 11 o'clock at night) I really like how Haruka has been written so far. There's definitely some parts of him that have been exaggerated so abled normies can pick up on his disability (namely how his MV 's main motif is really child-like drawings) but the writers also included a lot of smaller details I appreciate like how it is noted he avoids eye contact when talking to other people and is depicted as nervously pulling at his sleeves in official artwork, or how he says he finds his prison uniform (which has tight straps) 'relaxing' and when he gets nervous/tense, he will dig his fingernails into the palm of his hands. (These last two potential being examples of 'self stimulation' [aka stimming] where a person seeks out specific sensory stimuli in order to help regulate their nervous system/emotions, in this case the tight uniform creates a comforting, secure feeling [you may have heard about some people preferring to sleep under weighted blankets for this reason] and digging nails into his palms sounds uncomfortable/painful but is done in an attempt to deal with a greater sensory discomfort caused by the situation/environment)
I also appreciate the depth he is written with, he struggles to communicate verbally but in his MV and interactions with other inmates is shown to have insecurities, opinions and a consistent thought process (this is all basic character stuff but unfortunately not always present in disabled characters)
Also I want to add that (in terms of what we've been shown so far) Haruka did not kill anyone because of his disability/mental illness. Disabled people are not inherently more innocent than abled people. But there is no disability/mental illness where a symptom is that you kill people and real people have to live with the stigma when you speak carelessly and suggest things like "Haruka is the kind of mentally ill person who kills people as a cry for help" 🧂
(or at the very least real people have to read BS like that and cringe).
TL;DR Haruka is less child-like and more onion-like (as in, he has layers) 🧅🧅🧅
Now is the actual theory stuff, oops:
Every prisoner in MILGRAM is supposed to have committed murder in some way, obviously considering Yuno just had an abortion (which i personally do not consider an act of murder) whilst Mu literally stabbed someone to death, this definition is stretched a bit. But it is not agreed upon yet who Haruka killed/how many people he killed or why he killed.
In his MV he is shown to have chased after his dog into a forest, seen something off-screen, then beaten something into a messy pulp with a rock.
Some people think the dog is a red herring and that Haruka actually killed his mother/the girl from the fireworks show/his brother.
I do not agree.
First: I believe Haruka when he says he doesn't have a brother. The MV literally starts by Haruka looking in the mirror and then switching between the him now
and a really similar looking younger child who just so happened to be a key feature of his memories (I don't have the vocabulary to explain it but its like cinematic parallels that establish this is the same person at different points of their life)
Its not impossible that this is Haruka's secret younger brother, but i think its unlikely.
I saw someone saying they had to be different people because Haruka looks less happy than the child but like, most 17 year olds are less visibly happy than when they were 7 (or however old the child is meant to be). Life happens.
So when Haruka is shown pushing the child around and eventually strangling him, this isn't meant to be literal (homicide or suicide), but a representation of how conflicted Haruka feels about his younger self, who may have committed the murder (if you've ever been kept awake cringing at memories of something you said in the past and wishing you could go slap some sense into your former self, this is like that but 10 times more self loathing).
The lyric "I am always repeating yesterday," implies he might think about this specific past event a lot.
Moving on, its pretty well accepted that Haruka's parents were abusive in some way and Haruka internalised a lot of it: he constantly apologises, he says in his interrogation questions that his one wish come true is that "[he] want[s] to be loved" and describes in his MV how when he couldn't find the words he was looking for ("you're unfair") one of his parents "would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”".
He seems to know its unfair but also still says he 'loves' his family, possibly mistakenly believing it is his fault, but also showing an awareness of his situation (and how his parents might behave).
Now, the MV is stylised in a way that makes certain details unclear, but there is one clear detail showing that Haruka's dog was killed
This is the first close up of Haruka and the dog. Haruka's mother is just out of frame supervising, but they look pretty happy. Notice how the puppy has a silvery chain for a collar.
Somehow, this dog gets out of the house but only Haruka is shown chasing after it (whether his mother was searching elsewhere or didn't bother following her disabled son into the forest is unclear).
Either way, young Haruka is now in the forest, unsupervised.
By the time he finds the dog, there is already blood, suggesting it was initally attacked by something else.
is this a sigh of relief from a boy whose finally found his beloved pet or a jealous weakling glad that nature took its course and he is finally free of that meddling mutt stealing all his mummy's attention? /j
I think this shock at the discovery that 'there is blood on his hands' could imply that rather than literally getting the blood from his dog, Haruka has seen his already injured dog and realises that if the dog got out because of him (he is previously shown to be aware his parents seem to blame him for everything) then he is the reason his dog is injured/dying and will be blamed for it.
(this scene plays over the lyrics
"It’s fine, though it’s really not It’s really fine, though I don’t really think so
When I tried to understand it,
You’ll make that disappointed face again"
suggesting he is trying to avoid making his parents disappointed and letting the family pet escape into danger is something that could make them very disappointed)
now we get into rock murder (this is present-day Haruka implying that this is either: not how the scene really played out; the writers really wanting the audience to know that this was Haruka's doing and not someone else's; or this turns into a separate incident that happened much later [although note that the red sky and blue moon is the same as when young Haruka first appears at the start])
b the corpse is beyond mangled now, but its clearly the dog because the silver chain collar is still there, to the right of the body.
(circled in red for your convenience :3)
My hypothesis is: Haruka didn't set out to kill his dog, but upon finding it injured (we don't know the severity aside from bleeding and also it not being able to run away from Haruka kneeling down above it w/ a big rock so it could range from treatable with a lot of vet help to already on death's door, TBH I don't think Haruka would know the difference)
He knew he'd be blamed for this; made into a villain who let the poor puppy come to harm. He panicked and killed the dog out of some idea that it would make him the victim here (since he'd be found crying over a dog corpse, which might make a parent go comfort him rather than getting angry about what could've happened to the dog).
This is over the lyrics:
"I cried, I screamed
I wanted to be a pitied and loved weakling
I was in denial, I was in denial I just had to make sure
I’ve become a victim, I’ve become a victim"
(there's another theory that he was also jealous of the dog, which could work here too, since this is not some calculated plot; rather its a rash decision)
This ties in with his Japanese song title (translated as Weakness) which is a play on a phrase sort of like "The strong eat, the weak do not" to become "The weak are eaten by society" or "The weak eat each other to survive"
[once again I am reminding everyone this is based on second hand information from the youtube comments section (from users mitchki and Alphaistic) because I do not speak Japanese]
This second meaning (The weak eat each other to survive) makes sense under the reading that Haruka killed his dog in order to 'survive' making his parents disappointed for the dog escaping.
Miscellaneous points:
We don't know where Haruka's necklace came from yet, it must be a gift since the most expensive thing he's ever bought was cotton candy. The younger child in the video isn't wearing it and neither is his mother or the girl in the purple dress.
Haruka's home seems quite big, at the start we can see a large flower garden outside the window and there's a forest in walking distance. This might suggest his family is quite wealthy
Haruka probably did go to school at some point as homeschooling is not a legally accepted as an alternative to public schools in Japan. (However it is estimated that up to 5000 families homeschool, this is uncommon)
A lot (about 62%) of Japanese schools apparently have a 'special needs' classes and there are about 505 schools focused on educating intellectually disabled students
(although I do not know which sort Haruka would've needed as whilst intellectual and development disabilities can be comorbid they aren't the same).
Now, if children aged 7-14 don't go to school, their parents receive a fine, but its possible that if Haruka's parents are wealthy, they just paid it to avoid sending him to school.
(This might imply they wanted to hide him or were generally ashamed of him in some way)
However high school education (for students over 14) is not legally required and its likely that even if Haruka went to elementary/middle school, he hasn't been around people his own age in at least 3 years. As he seems quite lonely and glad that the other prisoners give him attention.
I don't think Haruka's parents are divorced and if they are, its not his father who left.
Haruka mentions in the 30 questions that he thinks he disappointed his father. But still includes him as part of his family ("My father and mother and me").
A theory I've seen is that his father was disappointed by his son being disabled and left.
but developmental disabilities (especially in non verbal and semi verbal children like Haruka) can be diagnosed before the age of 3, so I feel it is unlikely that Haruka would bring up his father if he left that early in Haruka's life
All MILGRAM prisoners have covered one of DECO*27's older vocaloid songs (DECO*27 is a well known producer who composes the music for MILGRAM)
Haruka covered 'Two Breaths Walking' (https://youtu.be/puXLfVWrz2Q) which is about a boy's first relationship and how his mother's jealousy set him up for failure as the relationship becomes toxic
(specifically it has some very funny out of context lines like "Whose breasts are you sucking on now?")
so yeah, mommy issues: the song
(Also: some people say in the song, the boy kills the girl at the end, but this isn't literal, TBW is the first of a trilogy of songs about the same relationship, it is followed by Android girl then Two Breaths Walking: Reloaded and the story resolves with the couple reuniting as adults and getting in the relationship again, although its not necessarily as abusive as before, its still implied to be codependant ending on the line 'We should live like oxygen tanks, sucking breathe from the words each of us exhale, until our last breathe')
In all seriousness, the scene where younger Haruka is walking through the city with his mother but it keeps repeating until older Haruka pulls the younger one away might indicate an attempt to focus the happier memories of his parents (since this is also over the lyrics "Why is it breaking? Tell me why?
Please don’t change
If I tried and couldn’t say it,
You would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”" which depict a worse scene)
I think both his parents are still physically present but have become far more emotionally distant, not giving him as much attention, which exacerbates his loneliness from not having any friends his own age to talk to
And if one of his parents did leave? I think its likely his mother since she is shown disappearing out of his reach after the dog-incident (inferring she got angry/disappointed in Haruka anyway)
This could also be where he got his necklace from: Its something his mother used to wear (although this is 100% a guess) and that's why its shown to be important to him
This one is just me, but i didn't realise until a rewatch that when Haruka is watching the younger him and the girl running together, the background has fireworks. Haruka mentions fireworks being a key memory to him so I wonder if this was one of the first/last times he got to make a friend...
On three separate occasions in the interrogation, Haruka mentions not liking animals. Despite this, he is depicted as sleeping with a rabbit plush and on his birthday art (I'd include that too but tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post, so here's a link) he is standing next to a giant blueberry and strawberry cake with two bunny themed biscuits at the side.
Through my experiences of seeing Japanese fandom art on pixiv, sometimes rabbits are used to insinuate a character is cute and timid in fanart.
Meaningless details: Haruka sleeps with his necklace on; he sleeps on a bed and not a futon; at first I thought he woke up holding his plush's hand but his hand is merely next to the toy; and considering the state of the pillow and blanket, I wonder if he moves a lot in his sleep or if the is just because in this case he seems to be waking up from a nightmare about the dog incident...
Final note: I've spent so many hours writing this I don't remember if i was building up to any big finale or not but I hope you enjoyed reading this! Feel free to add on in the comments/reblogs.
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if only in my dreams
Lily has been having some dreams about James but of course that in no way means she has any feelings for him of any kind
Read below or on AO3 or FFNT
The dreams started about a month into October of Seventh Year. They started slow at first and innocent enough, fun little dreams of the Marauders and Lily’s friends all sat near the fire playing Exploding Snap or chatting at dinner. Slowly, however, they started to shift. Instead of it being all of their friends together, they began to focus in on just her and James. Sometimes they were outlandish and artificial the way dreams could be, like the one where she was a star quidditch player and was playing his team but all of the other teammates were octopuses, or the one where Paul McCartney was their Transfiguration Professor. Fun and ridiculous and clearly too dreamlike to be of any real consequence to her but certainly notable. Yet other times they were so completely and utterly simplistic, domestic even. Calm and casual, just them sitting and laughing and holding hands. Everytime one of those occurred, Lily would wake up feeling content, at peace almost. Then the realization set in and the contentment quickly turned to horror. Those were the scariest dreams of all.
After the first few she was able to write them off as a coincidence, simply neurons firing in her brain as a way of dealing with spending so much time with him during the day as co-heads. Especially as they became friends over those first few months, it was really simple and logical, just her brain dealing with him being so present in her life and working it out as she slept. Considering it’d been years of them fighting and screaming, the sudden shift to friendship and laughing was obviously a lot to process.
The dreams didn’t occur every single night, at least not at first, more like once or twice a week at max. Just enough for her to spend some time thinking about them during a boring Ancient Runes class and processing them, but certainly not enough to cause any real worry or concern over her well being.
Even when they increased in frequency, from twice a week to six times a week plus that one time she zoned out and started daydreaming during History of Magic (which didn’t really count because he was sitting next to her and smelled so good of course it was going to leech into her dreams). It wasn’t hard to rationalize those either. It was completely logical that she’d daydream about lying on the Quidditch pitch alongside James, looking up at the stars together, hands intertwined, because after all they had stood near each other in Astronomy that day and he had pointed out Venus’s moons to her. It was natural, truly.
And it wasn’t difficult at all to make the connections between that day at lunch when she’d almost tripped but he’d caught her with a strong arm wrapped around her waist with that evening, when she had dreamt that same arm was wrapped around her tightly as she sat in front of him on the back of his broomstick as they flew over the school.
They were just dreams. Harmless imaginings of the imagination and the kind of stuff that was covered in day one of Petunia’s psychology courses at muggle Uni. Easily explainable and not in anyway shape or form telling of any real emotions she’d possibly be having.
Except that considering how simple and natural some of the dreams felt, she occasionally started mixing up what had happened between dream James and Lily and real life James and Lily. Was it real James or dream James that had brushed her hand while passing a quill in Transfiguration and set a wild blaze of electricity firing all up and down her arm? Did she actually hear real James’s breath hitch when she had brushed against him while reaching for the bottle of scalamander eyelashes during potions? Was it real James or dream James that she had stood so close to, close enough to feel his chest rising and falling against her as they hid from Filch in a cupboard?
It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise (but of course it still was) when the dreams turned a little more… intimate. When instead of dreaming of lunch in the Great Hall, the scene began to shift to lunch in the Three Broomsticks, just the two of them, followed by hand holding through the streets of Hogsmeade.
Friday night escalated things to nightmare level. Lily had been studying in the common room with Dorcas when the team returned from practice, led by James. Sweaty, grass stained, hair mussed, quidditch gear wearing, James. Lily felt her throat tighten and heart accelerate. His eyes landed on her and instantly smirked, nudging Marlene to point them out before the pair of them headed straight towards her.
“Evans, Meadows,” Lily’s mouth was too dry to respond. She nodded weakly as Marlene flopped down next to her and looked at her strangely.
That image of him haunted her, snuck deep into her subconscious, permeated her thoughts and took root there to flood her dreams. Filled them with him, sweaty and red, but for a reason far different from quidditch, leaning over her, whispering into her ear while she gripped his shoulders and left scratches in a trail down his back.
She couldn’t meet his eye the next day at breakfast.
This process seemed to repeat for the next several weeks: notice something about James during her waking hours that her subconscious would latch onto for the evening, wake up embarrassed, flushed, unsatisfied, and try her hardest to ignore him and stop the cycle. She never succeeded.
The night that really ruined her was right after they’d been partnered in defense. When she’d struggled with the incantation and he’d placed his fingers overtop of hers to show the correct positioning. When she felt how strong and flexible his hand was, how warm and long and rough his calloused fingers were. She felt shivers up and down her neck as he breathed closely to her, smelled mint on his breath, smelled the warm musk that was just so James.
All night she twisted and turned in her sleep, feeling those fingers trace up and down her arms, down her chest, twisting and lapping around the valley of her breast, circling each bud, pushing lower and lower, carving out waves of electricity as they squeezed her hips until she could just feel his fingers circling her clit. She could feel the callouses, could see him smirking at her as he’d bring his head down to meet his fingers, following the same trail of his fingers with his mouth, leaving a series of kisses across her skin.
She’d woken in a tangle of sheets sticking to the sweat on her skin, his name on the edge of her lips.
It’d taken a long, ice cold shower, to clear her head successfully. She stood in the freezing water attempting to justify the dream as just a way for her subconscious to deal with the fact that her close friend was decidedly fit. She tried desperately to cling to the idea of the dreams being a symptom of teenage hormones. However, in spite of her most sincere attempts, it was becoming shockingly clear that the dreams were much more a symptom of her real, genuine feelings for James. Romantic feelings. Spurts of butterflies and rampaging elephants that flooded her heart when he smiled. The fact that he could make her feel so on edge with excitement and anticipation when she saw him coming yet also immediately comfortable and the ability to talk to him about anything.
But she missed her chance. He’d been into her before, sure, but that was long over now. He’d essentially told her as much back in September, when he asked for a ceasefire now that they were both Heads. He’d told her he had grown up and would stop asking her out and bothering her if they could be civil, wasn’t that admitting that he’d left any possible romantic feelings for her behind him? He was over her. He was over her and it wasn’t his problem that she’d just now begun to realize how very badly she wanted him, all of him. She’d just get past it too.
How she was going to possibly get over him when his every waking action filtered through her dreams each night was the real issue. Her fingers were beginning to go numb from the frigid water, nearly shaking as she reached to turn the water off.
She wrapped her towel around her tightly, sheltering her like armour as she met her reflection in the mirror. Cheeks still flushed.
“Get over it,” she whispered to herself. She’d avoid him. That was the best solution. The only way to remove him from her dreams was to remove him from her waking moments as well. It’d be hard to avoid him forever, but at the very least she couldn’t be alone with him. Groups would be safer.
XXX
The next several days were difficult. Filled with eyes flitting away, nodding answers to his questions that had clearly been asked to engage in a conversation, ducking into bathrooms as he came down the corridor, and in a moment of absolute desperation brought on when she saw him standing there waiting for her in the doorway after potions, clearly attempting to walk with her which was essentially an ambush, and she had no choice but to strike up a conversation with Slughorn on the merits of using crushed salamander spleens verses the ever controversial chopped spleens. He’d gone on for about six minutes before James had given up and moved on to lunch, Lily counted to thirty before cutting Slughorn off and dashing away.
In the end she lasted three days of almost complete avoidance. He found her in the library. She’d done her best at hiding, choosing to study in the dusty Arithmancy section that maximum one person and one ghost seemed to visit per year and the table needed a solid Scourgify charm before she was able to sit down. She’d made it through half of her Charms essay before his hands slammed down on the table.
“Lily, I need to talk to you.”
His voice was tense and without looking up she could envision his rigid shoulders and sharp jaw looming over her. Her grip tightened on her quill as she set her shoulders and took a breath.
“Little busy right now, can it wait?”
He scoffed and pulled back the chair opposite her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Not avoiding,” she squeaked, sneaking a glance up to see his gaze locked in on her and quickly averted her eyes back down. “Just busy, very, very busy.”
She could feel the eye roll.
He reached out across the table and closed the textbook she’d been reading from with a thump, forcing her to meet his eyeline with a glare that he unflinchingly met with his own.
“You can’t prove anything,” she crossed her arms across her chest.
“The only proof I needed I got when you suddenly, desperately had to talk to Flitwick about the best technique for forging charms which we all know you mastered three years ago. Or when you needed to discuss that stupid Salamandar debate with Slughorn that was clearly boring even you stale.”
He stated it all dryly, matter of fact, leaving no room for question or debate. They sat there silently for 93 seconds (she counted) as James leaned back in his chair, a vision of casual confidence.
“Fine!” She broke first. “I’m avoiding you. Are you happy? Are we done here now?”
He barked out a laugh, dropping his hands onto the table and folding them together. “We’ll be done when you explain whatever it is I did that made being around me so awful when we were just getting to a place where I thought we were friends, or at the very least capable of being in the same room and having a civil conversation.”
“I think it's time I go.” She pushed all her stuff into her rucksack hastily, hearing an ink well shatter as she did, and practically running to the door. One of the only benefits of the Arithmancy section is that it at least had a fast exit route, away from the main drag of tables, up the side of the aisles. She could hear James scrambling out of his chair and running to catch up with her but she refused to look back, getting as close to running as she could without risking the wrath of Madam Pince.
She was so close to the exit, the taste of freedom on the tip of her tongue. If she could just get out of the library, she could go left out of view and hide in an alcove until he passed or gave up looking. From then it’d be a simple matter of hiding away in her dorm for the next two to six days before she felt capable of facing him. She was rounding the corner to the exit, nodding tightly to Pince, when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and yank her into the nearest aisle.
She stared longingly over her shoulder at the exit as it disappeared as James pulled her along, weaving through aisles. Past Charms, past their table in Arithmancy, straight through Potions, all the way deep into the Divination section where the dust on the books appeared to be older than Lily and James combined.
It was there he finally stopped. Pulling her to the center of the aisle and standing strong in front of her.
It was silent for a tic as she stood there counting the seconds, mentally hoping that if she stayed quiet long enough, James would give up and leave.
Instead he cleared his throat. The noise was jarring in the otherwise silent aisle and without thinking her head turned on its own accord away from the dusty tombs to meet his eyes instead. Big mistake. His eyes were positively smoldering, a storm of hazel and gold glaring down at her. She’d always loved his eyes.
“What?” she bit out, forcing herself to break eye contact and stare somewhere around his shoulder instead.
“Start talking, Evans.”
His shoulders looked solid, no way she could charge past them. The way his shirt was pulling taut across them made her wonder if they’d feel as solid as they appeared and how’d they feel on her hands if she dug her nails into them while she-
She ripped her eyes away from his shoulders and down to his shoes instead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, studying his laces and fidgeting slightly.
He scoffed and brought his free hand to her chin to tilt her gaze up to meet his once more. There were the eyes again.
“It’s a little late for all that, Lily.” He spoke slowly and quietly, as if she was a young deer he was worried would scamper off. “Now talk to me or I swear to god I’ll learn Occlumency just to get a peek at what you’re thinking about up there.”
Well that was a horrifying thought. Her brain reeled through all the images he’d see if he had actually taken a peek, his body pressing hot up against her, the two of them sitting in a sunlit field, picking dandelions, him wiping away a butterbeer mustache off her top lip as they laughed in the Three Broomsticks, him winning the Quidditch Cup and picking her up to spin her around in front of everyone.
“There,” he whispered accusingly, “that blush all over you right now? You’re hiding something from me, Evans, and that ends right now.” The tone was soft but the words were strong, gaze remaining level with her own, eyes searching her own as if the answer was written within them.
“I’ve been having dreams,” she blurted out, too flustered to be aware of her words and instantly regretting that they had come out. Her insides shrank as she squirmed under his gaze, shifting her weight.
He held steady, keeping his hand still tight on her wrist, not allowing her to move more than a breath away.
“What kind of dreams?” Nothing had changed in his voice, still controlled and level.
“I don’t know!” she snapped out, voice far louder than his own, “the embarrassing kind, okay? Are we done?” She twisted her wrist out of his own, somewhat surprised when he allowed her to. She was free, a part of her knew she should run right now and make her grand escape but a much larger part wanted to see what James would say, do, now that the truth was coming out.
She could practically see his wheels turning, mentally piecing together her words with her actions and the ramifications of it all. He was being too quiet, taking too long, and the words were boiling up in her now, desperate to fill the silence.
“They’re just dreams, okay? They don’t actually mean anything, it’s really not that big of a deal even,” she insisted, repeating the words she had spent the last several weeks telling herself out loud for the first time.
“If they don’t mean anything, why are you still blushing like that? And why would I be avoiding me? And what kind of dreams are the embarrassing ones exactly?” His brow was furrowed and a hand was rooted in his hair.
“They’re just stupid and random and unrealistic,” she spluttered, feeling the blush reach down to her toes.
“So tell me about one!” He demanded, “what happened in the most recent one? Did I kill you or something?”
“Oh please you don’t get it at all, you buffoon.” The embarrassment quickly was turning into rage and the words were pouring out.. “You didn’t kill me, you kissed me. Okay? More than kissed me really. You happy now?”
James was decidedly not happy. His expression turned only more incredulous with each passing second as her words took effect on him. His left hand dropped from her wrist to join his right firmly rooted in his hair, pulling and twisting.
She stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response, a realization, a reaction, anything. But instead he just stood there. Dumbfounded or disgusted or downright confused.
The seconds ticked by and her discomfort level rose as each one passed. The rage faded back to embarrassment and formed tears pricking at the back of her eyes, blinking furiously and squeezing her nails into her palms to try and stop any from leaking out.
“Are you going to say anything or just stand there ripping out your hair?”
He continued to stare, unmoving.
“Goodbye, James,” she spat out, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and pushing straight through him.
She heard him splutter something and got about six steps ahead before hearing his thundering steps behind her catching up to her. She pushed ahead until she felt his hand grip her shoulder and turn her around again
There was a scream on the tip of her tongue as she was pulled around to face him. “What, Jam-”
Her exclamations were silenced as he pushed his lips down onto hers. She hesitated for a moment in shock before throwing her arm around his neck and pulling him against her, leaning up on her tiptoes and responding enthusiastically. His hand from her shoulder pushed up to caress her cheek, other hand pressing hard and unforgiving into her hip.
“Was it like that?” The words were a whisper, hot against her face, barely a breath of space between them. “In your dream, was it like that?”
She barely nodded before pulling his lips back down to meet hers.
It was harsh and unyielding and not the kind of first kiss she had ever imagined for them but was certainly something taken right out of her dreams. She felt his hand tilting her head, adjusting their angle to fit perfect against each other as his tongue reached out to meet hers. Hot and heady and unbelievably perfect.
She didn’t notice them turning until her back was pushed up against the shelf. Corners and spines of the dusty volumes pressing up against her barely registering when there was so much of him to feel up against her. His scent surrounding her entirely, permeating the air around her until all she could think, smell, feel was just him.
He pulled back again, still barely a centimeter away and clearly reluctant to do so. “Wait, wait,” he heaved, “what exactly about a dream like that is ‘unrealistic’?”
She stammered unintelligibly for a moment, head filled with fog and fist curling tighter in the fabric of his shirt to anchor herself and him next to each other, “I just meant that we were friends now and you didn’t want to be…. you know.”
He cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, “enlighten me.”
“With me! Romantically speaking!” Her cheeks burned again, and eyes flitted down to where her hand was twisting his shirt.
Until she heard laughter. Actual laughter. One quick look at his face confirmed it, James Potter was actually laughing at her.
“Dear God, Evans,” he brought his hand to caress her cheek, thumb tracing her lower lip. “Evans, if I ever, and I mean ever, say I don’t want to be with you ‘romantically speaking’ you might as well Avada me right then and there because that is clearly an imposter.”
He didn’t give her a second to respond, crashing his lips back down onto hers.
And then he was snogging her again, harder. This instantly shut down her brain, eliminating the potential to analyze the implications of what he had just said because of course there would be time for analysis later but right now, in this moment, there was no time for that. There was no time for that because James Potter was snogging her in the depths of the library and it was so much better than any dream she’d ever had. She had no idea how long they’d stood there snogging, hands pulling hair and bruising skin and leaving her so utterly weak in the knees that she became vehemently grateful for the support of his arm around her back and the shelf she was leaning on. Minutes, hours, days, years, until she was so out of breath that she was practically sighing against his lips as they both slowed down, exhausted but so unwilling to separate, lips still brushing as they breathed in and out.
Her eyes remained closed and she pressed their heads together, lips no more than a centimeter apart.
“Hey Evans?” He sighed out, kissing her again chastely.
She hummed in response, rubbing her nose against his lightly and pushing up for one of those chaste kisses of her own, feeling his glasses press into her nose.
“Go out with me?”
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you don’t understand, poppet // dm
warning; language i think?
summary; being severus snape’s daughter makes your time at hogwarts just slightly difficult
word count; 5.8k+
draco x snape!reader, dad!snape x daughter!reader
this doesn’t follow the harry potter timeline!
you don’t remember how exactly you ended up here, sneaking out of draco malfoy’s room at a despicably late hour, trying to flatten your hair while making sure that your sweater was put on the right way.
it was one thing to sneak in and out of draco malfoy’s room every once in a while, but this had been the third time this week, and it didn’t help that it was starting to get harder to sneak out so often.
the two of you had been sneaking around for longer than you could recall at this point. you hadn’t kept track, too busy tripping over yourself when you saw the blond boy smile at you from across the room. despite the two of you being a secret from everybody in the school, it was hard not to pick up on the longing gazes and the giggles that neither of you could hold back when the other was put under a microscope.
you hadn’t always been the best friends with draco malfoy, but you couldn’t deny the fact that the slytherin boy had taken your heart in his hands with little to no effort. if it were completely up to you, with no complications sitting in the forefront of your mind, you would’ve announced to the entirety of the school about you relationship status with draco long ago.
though, that proved to be anything but an option, given that the head of slytherin house was not only a less than tolerant man, but also your father.
it had been nothing less than expected for you to be sorted into slytherin. being severus snape’s only child, and living up to the family name, it was inevitable for you to sport silver and green during your time at hogwarts. you were well versed in potions, given that it had been your father’s area of expertise and you had nothing but an abundance of herbs and liquids lying around the house when you grew up.
most people were never given an opportunity to see severus snape’s fatherly side. the part of him that would read you to sleep, the part of him that had him leaning over the edge of his bed to pull you up after you’d had a nightmare. nobody ever saw the side of him that was reserved entirely for you, behind closed doors and almost never on the hogwarts campus.
they all knew him to be the hard ass professor that took away house points far more than he awarded them. the one that assigned surprise essays when someone pissed him off in class. snape wasn’t seen as the fatherly type, though you and a few of the professors at hogwarts knew that wasn’t necessarily the case.
he was hard on you, there was no doubt about that. he had always been hard on you, ever since you were born. it was no secret to you that your parents were never in love with one another. your father’s heart belonged to someone that didn’t want it, and you had been the product of a way to forget about that.
he didn’t show you any special treatment while you were in class, or if you stepped out of line, but you preferred it to be that way. you hated your first few years at hogwarts, since it had mainly consisted of your housemates blowing you off as the favorite of the house by default. that, along with the few times that you found out kids were spending time to get into your father’s good graces.
you had quickly isolated yourself, sticking your nose up at the kids in your house, and ignored by kids from other houses. it had taken you three years to allow yourself to slip into a steady friend group, guarding yourself from more people than you initially intended.
and now here you were, trying to tip toe down the hall back to your room where you’d have to sneak into your room as quietly as you possibly could. you made the mistake of thinking you had made it safe and sound by the time you reached your door once, but your roommate had run off to your father the next morning and told him that you had been out after hours.
that wasn’t a fun conversation to have at seven in the morning.
you were surprised to see draco on the other side of your door early the next morning, knocking with a grin plastered onto his lips. your disheveled hair and narrowed eyes allowed him to know that you had just pulled yourself out of bed, completely forgetting about the quidditch match that you had promised to attend. slytherin wasn’t playing this morning, so most of your house would be sleeping in as late as possible.
it took you all of ten minutes to get ready, throwing on an old sweat shirt that was very much not yours, though you weren’t sure who the rightful owner was. draco wasn’t going to tell you that it was his, one you had stolen from him a few months back when crabbe had spilled pompion potion down the back of your robes.
you hadn’t even made it out of the hallway before you almost ran into your father, who stood tall and rigid in the middle of the hallway, eyes void of emotion as he looked between you and draco.
“where are you two off to?” you rolled your eyes, stepping around your father and continuing your path out to the front of the building.
“to the quidditch game. care to join us?” you pushed a smile forward, cocking your head to the side as you and your father had a silent argument.
he had been suspicious about your behavior for a few weeks now. he’d caught you out in the halls after hours several times, though you were always quick to whip up a believable lie. that is one thing he wished you hadn’t inherited from him; the ability to be sneaky. you were. good liar, and he was to thank for that.
he shook his head slowly, lingering his gaze on draco for just a moment before you were gripping the boy’s elbow and tugging him in the direction of the pitch.
you sat beside draco during the game, not being able to ignore your father’s burning gaze on you practically the whole time. draco noticed the heavy gaze on the two of you as well, restraining himself from reaching out and showing you any form of physical affection.
the two of you had to do everything in secret. if anybody found out, your father would find out, and that was the last thing either of you wanted.
your father liked draco, sure. he was the stereotypical slytherin student at hogwarts, which was bound to bring the two of them together. he sucked up to the right people at the right time, and wasn’t falling over himself at the sight of harry potter like most of the school usually did.
but it didn’t matter how much your father liked draco. at the end of the day, you had his voice ringing in your ears, reminding you that you were, in his words, “far too young to be making decisions that will dictate the rest of your life’. you always rolled your eyes when he repeated the phrase you’d heard from a very young age, but now it was dictating just how you truly lived your life.
you were close to being caught one afternoon, pinned between draco’s frame and a wall with his lips latched onto your neck. if it wasn’t for your keen hearing and the faintest clicking of shoes, you might have exposed your hidden relationship. but you were able to push draco off of you just in time, running around the opposite corner of the hall and leaving the flustered blond to be found by your father, all alone in the middle of the hall.
then there was the time you were late for class, your tie ever so slightly loosened and crooked. you were panting softly, though it was assumed that was from rushing down the hall to get to class. this is a time when most of the class expected you to receive special treatment, barely receiving the bat of an eye for being late to your own father’s class.
that assumption was wrong.
“late, miss snape?” you felt your breath catch itself in the back of your throat, nerves building up at the tone used to address you.
“sorry, professor, i was-“
“ten points will be deducted from slytherin.” you felt your shoulders sink when the slytherin portion of the room groaned at their entire house being punished from your mistake. “take your seat now.”
you slid into your seat, catching a glimpse of draco’s gaze for just a moment. he smirked, not half bothered by the point deduction since he knew it was because you woke up later than you had intended, having to rush back to your own room to get ready before class. you rolled your eyes, though your lips tugged up into a soft smile that had his heart thumping in his chest.
halfway through the class and you had been completely lost. you were barely following, which had been a surprise to everyone in the class, especially hermione who sat beside you. the two of you weren’t the best of friends, but you found it easier to work together since nobody had been better at potions than the two of you.
so when you poured too much lethe river water into your cauldron, you threw your head into your hands and tugged at your hair.
“struggling?” your father stood at the end of your desk, hands folded behind his back as he quirked up an eyebrow at you.
“no.” you grumbled softly, moving to grab your cauldron so you could pour it out and start again. you were beat to it, the man before you grabbing it in his own hands and pouring the contents onto your desk right in front of you.
you jumped back, trying to avoid ruining your robes with the large amount of liquid, but ultimately failing. your sudden movement and loud gasped had surely caught the attention of everyone in the room.
“papa!” your eyes were wide, filled with shock and a twinge of hurt as you stared up at him in disbelief.
“start again.” he dropped the cauldron onto your desk and spun on the balls of his feet, eyes scanning across the room to test anyone to say something to him about his previous actions.
when everyone turned around and tucked their nose into their own books and recipes, you were left to clean up the mess with a newfound distress weighing in your chest. you had lifted your wand to clean up the mess, hoping to get rid of the liquid spilled across your desk quickly before your father was calling back to you without even sparing you a glance.
“and don’t even think about using magic to clean your mess, miss snape.” your wrist paused, not even having time to conjure the charm before the rest of the class was looking at you, once again.
you had gotten up to leave the class as soon as you were dismissed, ignoring the incessant calling of your name echoing between your ears. you had almost made it the entire way out of the room before you felt your feet glued to the spot, your muscles unable to move, which meant your escape was no longer possible.
the charm that your father used on you lit a fire in your chest. he hadn’t done it in years, choosing to address the problems between the two of you in different ways. the two of you played dirty when it came to fighting with one another, but gluing your feet to the ground beneath you was something that never failed to get underneath your skin.
“y/n.” you sighed when your father stood before you, waiting for the rest of the kids to file out of the room before he allowed you to move from your spot. “what’s going on with you lately?”
“me? what’s going on with you?” his eyes softened, detecting the hurt in your voice and in your question. the two of you had never had this silent feud go on for so long. usually it was a few days at most, but you were teetering the line of a few months now, and you weren’t sure how much more embarrassment you could take.
“you’re keeping something from me.” you groaned, screwing your eyes shut as you racked your brain for another quick response. “and don’t lie.”
“it’s not a big deal, papa. it’s just not something i want to talk to you about.” you hoped it was enough, hoped you could circle around him and slip out the door without more of an interrogation.
you were wrong.
“did i do something?” you felt your shoulders fall at the question, feeling defeat creep into the back of your mind.
“no, you didn’t do anything. i promise.” you took a step towards him, allowing your arms to snake around his abdomen before squeezing gently. “i love you, papa.”
“i love you too, poppet.” his voice was soft, barely reaching your ears.
you were able to slip away then, making it halfway towards your next class before you were being tugged into an empty classroom. you were closed in between a familiar frame and the door, locking you in your place.
“close call, huh?” draco’s hand fell to your cheek, thumb softly stroking the soft skin of your cheek as his lips turned up into a smile.
“really close.” you smiled widely, eyes falling down to his lips just before they pressed against yours.
you had been sitting at dinner when you were being called into your father’s office, having to put your plate aside and excuse yourself from your conversation with draco and crabbe.
the familiar scent of peppermint filled your nose upon entry, a soft excitement bubbling in your chest when your father turned over his shoulder with a knowing look.
“cuppa?” you nodded eagerly, already feeling your tastebuds stand tall as they awaited your favorite tea.
your father always made the best peppermint tea.
you had taken a sip almost immediately after he’d set the cup in front of you, humming in delight while he circled the desk and leaned against it. he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes boring into yours as you sipped your tea.
“are you keeping something from me?” you brought the porcelain cup away from your face and narrowed your eyes.
“yes.” your eyebrows furrowed at your own voice betraying you.
“why were you late to class today?”
“i woke up late.” he narrowed his eyes at you, surprised that was truly the reason. he had expected your secret to come tumbling out by now.
“have you been sneaking around with somebody?”
“yes.”
“who?”
“draco.” you slapped your hand over your mouth, unsure of why you were spilling out these truths until you caught sight of the small bottle that sat beside your father’s kettle. “you put veritaserum into my tea!”
“you’re right, i did. how long have you been sneaking around with malfoy?”
“a few months.” you groaned at your inability to lie to him right now. your lies had been the only thing saving you from your father’s rage for the past few months.
“were you ever planning on telling me?”
“no.”
“why not?”
“i doubt it’ll last.”
“why’s that?”
“because nobody wants to spend the rest of their life with me!”
your father stated at you then, finding himself at a loss for words. you didn’t truly believe that, did you? surely you would’ve told him that. surely you would’ve been able to realize that that isn’t true in the slightest.
“why would you say that?”
“because it’s true.” your voice was soft now, eyes falling to your hands that were folded in your lap.
the heavy feeling in your chest pinned you to your chair. you had never admitted these things out loud, always finding the embarrassment far more intimidating than you were willing to face. it was also common knowledge that your father wasn’t the most emotive person, keeping most of his life experience and thoughts on almost every single subject known to man, to himself.
“poppet-”
“i don’t want to talk about it anymore, papa.” you pushed yourself to stand up from your chair, the lump forming in your throat taking all of your focus in order to swallow it.
“y/n, just talk to me!” you shook your head, moving to wipe away the single tear that dared to roll down your cheek.
“why? so you can tell me that i’m too young? that i don’t understand anything about life because i’ve barely scratched the surface of what life has to offer? i’m tired of hearing that. i’m tired of being told that i don’t know what’s good for me because i’m too young.”
your cheeks were wet with tears now, your voice slightly scratchy from the strain you’ve been putting on it in the last few minutes. snape’s lips parted, his mind racing in order to try to find the words to say to you in order to make all of this better.
“you don’t understand, poppet-”
“to hell with that, papa! i’m set to graduate soon!”
“graduation has nothing to do with your ability to make decisions for yourself!” you froze in your spot, staring at the man who was now seething in front of you.
his breath came out in heavy sighs, his chest rising and falling with the beat of his anger as he watched you sink in front of him. your shoulders fell, your tears cascading down your cheeks as you stood there at a loss for words.
your mind reeled, thinking about every time he had told you something similar. within seconds, your mind was filled with your father’s voice overlapping itself, tumbling out excuse after excuse as he drilled it into your brain. he didn’t trust you to make large decisions. life changing decisions.
“you’re merely a young girl who thinks that she knows what she wants, but you don’t. you don’t know the trials and tribulations life is going to put you through, and if you think that that little twit malfoy is going to stick by your side, then you’re wrong.” your bottom lip wobbled just before you clamped your teeth down around it so it would still.
you looked down at your feet, allowing him to continue his lecture of how you were unfit to choose the life you were going to live. you knew how your life was meant to go, and how it would play out, more than likely.
you would be handed off to a boy that your father saw as fit, no doubt a boy that was physically and mentally capable of caring for and protecting you. you knew that your father wanted you to be safe and respected throughout your life, but that didn’t mean he trusted you to pick who you would share your life with.
it had been a philosophy he’d taken from his youth. he didn’t want you to experience the world that he had to endure, and although you appreciated that, you weren’t him. you weren’t going to follow his footsteps that closely, but he had tuned you out when you tried to assure him of that.
when he stopped, words halting on the tip of his tongue while his eyes were locked onto your defeated and shaky figure, your eyes locked with his once more. you saw the flicker of guilt in them, but you also watched that flicker fleet quickly, replacing itself with the same absent look he often held.
“it’s getting late. you should head off to bed.” you nodded once, turning on the balls of your feet to step back out into the hall, fully intending on bolting straight to your dormitory.
“y/n!” you turned just before making it fully out of the door, turning over your shoulder to lock eyes with your father once more. “don’t even think about stopping by that boy’s dormitory on the way.”
the tears spilling down your cheeks had been far too much for you to wipe away. it would have been useless since there had been a build up in your eyes large enough to refill an entire lake if prompted to.
“well if it isn’t our favorite snape.” you ignored the weasley twins’ comment, walking straight past them without so much as a glance in their direction.
you were able to dodge both of their frames, sliding between the two of them successfully. george had caught sight of your wet cheeks, but had no time to ask about them or point them out to his brother before you had turned the corner and disappeared from their sight.
you thought you had made the cleanest getaway you were capable of, just as you were colliding into another figure, too busy staring at your feet through burred vision to notice the boy walking towards you.
“bloody hell, love, you just about ran me over just now.” you had mumbled out an apology, turning to duck out of his way and move around him before he could see the tear track on your skin, but it had been too late.
he had reached for your cheek out of habit, moving your head back ever so slightly with every intention of greeting you with a kiss in the middle of an empty hallway. he stopped at the damp feeling on his fingertips, and the sight of tears leaking out of your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.
“oh, love. what’s happened?” you shook your head, reaching for his wrist to pull his hand away from you in an attempt to save yourself the embarrassment. “darling, please. who’s at fault for making my pretty girl cry like this?”
“he knows.” you squeaked out, voice weaker than you had originally thought it to be.
draco’s eyes widened ever so slightly, partially out of fear of how snape would eventually confront him about the newfound news, but also because he knew how much you tried to avoid this very scenario. the two of you had been as carefully as you possibly could be, and now you were in front of him, sobbing in the middle of the hallway.
“i reckon it didn’t go well.” you shook your head slowly, not being able to stop the built up of fresh tears in your eyes. “let’s get you to bed.”
his soft voice, along with the way he wrapped his arms around you brought you a sense of needed comfort. he walked you back to your dormitory, threatening both of your roommates in order to get them out as soon as the door opened.
they scurried out, not sure what was happening but surely making a mental note of taking this straight to snape in the early morning. you couldn’t bring yourself to care much, too focused on the sound of your father’s voice still swimming between your ears.
you spent the night in draco’s arms, spilling every detail of the conversation between you and your father. it pained the boy to hear the quiver in your voice as you spoke, having to pause every now and again to choke out a sob in between words. he stayed by your sight for the entire night, arms wrapped around you while he listened patiently.
he didn’t try to talk you down, or assure you that everything would be alright. he knew you hated empty promises, and truth be told, he didn’t know if it would all be okay. all he knew for sure was that he was going to fight for you if faced with the decision.
you had developed bags under your eyes over the past few days, feeling more defeated and exhausted than you did during exams at the end of every year. your shoulders had fallen more often than not, eyes void of the glint they usually held. you only ever smile behind closed doors when draco would pull out all of his tricks to bring the very action out of you.
the last thing you wanted to do today was to stare your boggart in the eye.
you hadn’t been the first to go, which had been slightly uplifting, though the anxiety continued to bubble up in your chest as you waited to stand at the front of the queue. it had been comical when your father tumbled out of a wardrobe while neville stood at the front, shaking at the mere sight of your father.
your classmates, especially those you shared a house with, had expected you to find the sight more amusing. they expected you to laugh or even crack a smile at the sight of your father in high heels and a dress, but you didn’t. you had ben too worked up about what you were about to see. what the whole class was about to see.
“alright, miss snape. wand at the ready.” you nodded slowly, raising your wand in front of you as you anticipated the next few moments.
you casted a glance at draco, who had already had his turn moments ago and stood just off to the side with a reassuring smile. you tried to shake the nerves from your head, but when the creature before you took the shape of your father, seemingly two feet taller than he actually stood, you felt your heart thud harshly in your chest.
he loomed down at you, gaze as cold as it usually was and shoulders squared. his hands were folded behind his back, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he stared at you with the utmost disappointment in his expression.
“pathetic little poppet.” you felt your breath hitch in your throat, completely forgetting about the full room of students that stood around you, watching the entire thing as it played in real time. “a disgrace to the name i’ve so graciously awarded you.”
your lips parted, the spell sitting on the tip of your tongue, but held back by your lack of focus. you had forgotten about the assignment, forgot that there was a way to end this experience now and forever.
“far too young and weak to make lifelong decisions. you’ve relied on me your entire life, did you think that was going to come to an end anytime soon?” you clamped your lips tightly shut as tears stung your eyes for the first time in several days.
you hadn’t spoken to your father since the conversation in his office. you avoided his gaze in the great hall, and he avoided picking on you in class. the two of you had an unspoken agreement that you would keep your distance from one another, far too tense to try chipping away at the ice for now.
“you’re never going to be able to-”
“riddikulus!” your head whipped around, casting a gaze across the room just in time to catch your father lowering his wand, a mortified expression displayed clearly across his face.
the room was silent, not even professor lupin had something to say on the subject. that is, until he clapped his hands together and told everyone to grab their things and hurry out of the room.
just before draco walked out, your father pressed a firm hand to the boy’s chest and held him in place, telling him to stay put for the time being.
draco had been waiting for the man to call him into his office, or keep him after class one day. he had expected this lecture long ago, and was surprised it had taken this long for the head of slytherin to make that step.
there was an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air, nobody knowing how to break the thick blanket of tension that laid over the three of you. draco didn’t think it was his place to speak first, figuring there was far more to solve between the two of you than the small role he played in it all.
“malfoy, i’m going to say this one time and one time only.” draco nodded, his own nerves bubbling up to the surface at how much of a mess he had made for himself by falling into a relationship with severus snape’s daughter. “one step out of line with her, and i’ll make sure you never forget who you’ve messed with.”
he had expected much more. more interrogation, or threats leading up to an inescapable command to break it off with you right then and there. draco hadn’t expected him to give in so easily, not even expecting an acceptance for years to come.
you hadn’t expected it either, not seeing a future where your father allowed you to choose these things for yourself. you were sure he’d wed you off to a man you had little to no interest in for the rest of your life. never did you imagine him to stand here and give draco his blessing, even if those weren’t the words he used.
“yessir.” draco nodded quickly, scared that if he took too long to accept the sliver of sentiment, that it would be retracted quickly. “i would never hurt her, professor snape.”
“you say that now, boyo, but i assure you-”
“papa, please.” your voice, although soft, carried across the room and brought both of their gazes over to you.
“you’re dismissed, malfoy.” draco sent you a questioning glance, surprised to see you nod within seconds, giving him the silent cue that it was okay to leave you alone with your father.
when the door shut behind the blond, your father was taking steps towards you, eyes casted down at his feet as he searched for what to say to you. he knew he stepped over the line the other night, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to admit it to you just yet. he was still having trouble accepting it himself.
“papa-”
“just, give me a moment.” you nodded, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you waited for him to find his words. “i shouldn’t have put veritaserum in your tea. i shouldn’t have said all of those despicable things to you the other night, and i should not have told you that you can’t make decisions for yourself.”
you nodded, not knowing how to respond to a thing like this. you knew your father wasn’t one to admit when he was wrong, but there still hadn’t been an apology that you were able to accept or reject in his train of thought.
“it was wrong of me to trick and treat you like that. i shouldn’t have done it, and it won’t happen again.” you nodded again, still keeping your lips pressed together as his eyes drooped with sorrow. “i’m sorry.”
“i just wish you trusted me with my own life.” you were shocked by your own words, seemingly holding the weight of the word in them.
“i do trust you, poppet. i trust you, i just,” he stopped to breath out a heavy sigh through his nose. “i fear that you’ll make the same mistakes i made when i was your age.”
“i wont.” you shook your head carefully, taking the small step that allowed you to wrap your arms around your father’s frame. “i’ll be careful, papa. i promise.”
“i know you will.” his voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to his frame. “but i was serious about what i said to malfoy.”
you laughed gently into the fabric of the man’s shirt, feeling his own chest bubble with a low laugh.
just as the two of you unravelled yourselves from each other, you turned towards the door to make a swift exit by each other’s side. however, the sight of multiple pairs of eyes peering in through the window that led into the hall had elicited a soft growl from the pit of your father’s chest.
you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of kids scattering away from the door, leaving the same blond boy that had just been in questioning with wide, apologetic eyes.
“i tried to get them to leave, but nobody would listen.” your father huffed, muttering a small ‘thanks’ before turning to you and telling you to make sure you weren’t late for dinner.
when he left, leaving you and draco standing in front of one another, you let a large smile spread across your lips. draco mimicked it, allowing himself to relax at the sight of you smiling and joyful once again. just as he made a move to reach for your cheek, his hand was clamped down back by his side involuntary, and the two of you were looking down the hallway at your father.
“i’m not going to make it that easy on you, malfoy.”
though he had kept his promise to not make it easy, keeping a close eye on the two of you for the remainder of your time at hogwarts, he accepted the love affair between you and the blond boy.
you were head over heels for the boy, and he for you, and even your father was capable of picking up on that. so when draco stepped up to your house one evening, two years after graduation and while you were away at work, he sat down at the table in your kitchen, your father wasn’t surprised.
draco, despite your now lengthy relationship and his ability to develop a strong relationship with your father, was still slightly surprised to see a grin, though small, spread across the man’s lips. your father had been waiting for this, wondering when draco was going to step up to the plate and drop to one knee in front of you.
he was there for it all, smiling and even wiping a stray tear from his eye when you legally bound yourself to the malfoy boy. though he had been sour about your new last name, he would learn to deal with it. he would also learn to deal with three little ones running around with the very same name.
he was partial to favoring the eldest, a boy with hair as black as his grandfathers, and the same name to prove the relation. your father would mess about with his three grandchildren, claiming that severus had been his favorite, but you were the one to blame. though, that wasn’t entirely true. he loved all three of them all the same.
as long as you were happy, so was he. and you were the happiest you had ever been.
#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco#harry potter#severus snape#snape x reader#tom felton#draco malfoy x reader
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Little Red Lies - Chapter 1
Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating
{Next}
Words: 5,439
[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]
Trash Rat 22:57
[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]
Trash Rat 22:58
Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.
[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]
Roman 23:04
[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]
Trash Rat 23:06
[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]
Trash Rat 23:06
[even tho its been 2 yrs now]
Trash Rat 23:07
[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]
Roman 23:07
Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).
[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]
Trash Rat 23:10
[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]
Roman 23:11
[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]
Trash Rat 23:11
Roman threw his phone across the room.
It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.
Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.
Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.
When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.
Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.
Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.
They couldn’t.
Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.
Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.
Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.
He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.
“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.
Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”
“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.
“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”
“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.
“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”
The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”
“No! We’re going to a club!”
Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”
“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”
“You’re pulling my ha-”
“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”
“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“-ealthy, and- What?”
Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.
“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”
“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.
Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”
“You fucked yet?”
“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.
“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”
“He’s shy.”
“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”
“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.
He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).
But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.
He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.
But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.
Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.
Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.
He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.
In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.
His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.
So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.
He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.
At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.
Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.
[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]
Pops 23:25
Patton.
[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]
Roman 23:26
[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]
Pops 23:26
[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]
Roman 23:27
Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.
Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.
The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.
Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-
“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.
“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”
Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”
He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.
Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.
Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.
The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.
He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.
“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.
“Obviously.”
Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.
-
Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.
Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.
“Everything okay over there?”
“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.
“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.
Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”
“Are you-”
“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.
Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.
Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.
Besides, he was exhausted.
Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.
How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…
Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.
That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.
The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!
He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!
Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.
This was the best idea he’d ever had.
-
“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”
“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.
Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.
Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.
“Ow!”
“That was entirely your fault.”
“You just slammed the door on my foot!”
“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”
Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”
“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.
“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”
“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”
“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”
“Studying! I have exams to pass!”
“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”
“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”
Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”
The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.
Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.
“Please, Logan!”
Silence.
“I’ll be forever in your debt!”
More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?
“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”
Nothing.
Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.
Oh-
“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”
Roman held his breath and waited.
And waited.
Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.
“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”
“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”
“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.
“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”
“What?”
“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”
Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”
Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”
“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.
“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”
“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”
“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”
He had a point.
Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”
“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”
“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”
“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”
Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).
Groupchat: Princes and Co.
[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]
Roman 09:58
[a name!!!!!!!!!!]
Trash Rat 09:59
[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
Trash Rat 09:59
[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]
Pops 10:01
[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]
Emo Nightmare 10:02
[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]
Emo Nightmare 10:04
[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]
Padre 10:04
[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]
Trash Rat 10:04
Several people are typing…
[Suck a dick, Remus]
Emo Nightmare 10:05
[we did, actually]
Pops 10:05
[would but janjans at work :((]
Trash Rat 10:06
[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]
Roman 10:06
[Pat!]
Emo Nightmare 10:06
[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]
Snake Eyes 10:06
Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.
[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]
Trash Rat 10:07
[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]
Emo Nightmare 10:07
[No I didn’t tell Janus!]
Roman 10:07
[I’m omniscient.]
Snake Eyes 10:08
[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]
Snake Eyes 10:09
[You and your sister scare me]
Roman 10:11
[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]
Snake Eyes 10:11
[Told you. He’s shy]
Roman 10:12
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.
Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.
No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.
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please drop the essay length analysis Judas and Jesus (extra gay Swedish edition), O great and knowledgeable monarch of our times
alright, you ask i deliver! please excuse any typos, my eyes aren't exactly working rn
welcome to my probably super subjective but correct analysis, aka
Judas Was Right and Jesus Was A Victim (At Least, In Swedish)
Before we get started, a couple points: i’ll try to avoid comparisons to other specific productions, i’ve only seen the other recorded 2012 british version which i didn’t like for reasons including but not limited to the amount of white people with dreadlocks. Also, my understanding of swedish is limited to a couple words and phrases, so most of the lyrics i reference will be english subtitles from Ola Salo’s swedish translation and therefore might not be the most accurate !
There’s so much i could cover in this, but for now i’m going to focus on how jesus and judas are portrayed in the 2014 swedish arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar (JCS) starring Ola Salo as Jesus and Peter Johansson as Judas, along with how this production more implicitly views god.
From the opening number, translated into swedish as En Dimmig Himmelsdröm (A Foggy Heaven’s Dream), Peter Johansson’s acting and semantic differences in the lyrics present us with a deeply sympathetic portrayal of Judas. Looking purely at language, the english equivalent Heaven On Their Minds instantly paints Judas as much more of a faithless doubter- lyrics exclusive to the english version like “all your followers have gone blind / too much heaven on their minds” and “they think you’re the new messiah / and they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong” strongly enforce Judas’ main motivation for his actions being that he has less belief in Jesus and God’s plan than any of the other disciples with strong statements judging the other disciples for following him and claiming that Jesus ISN’T the messiah. The swedish translation doesn’t paint exactly the same picture- the focus of Judas’ number becomes his fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, not because he isn’t the messiah (the production remains fairly ambiguous on this point), but because Jesus can’t cope. The root of Judas’ concern comes from fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, and the disciples are referenced as regularly misunderstanding and wilfully twisting Jesus’ words. The swedish equivalent lyrics for the above examples are “they say, “jesus is god’s son” / but you know how people can change” (judas isn’t concerned with truth, just the danger that jesus will be in if the tide turns), and “the kingdom of heaven is within us, that’s what you said / bu they sew it, stitch by stich into some kind of foggy heaven’s dream”. Judas is showing that he HAS been listening and cares for Jesus’ teachings, but ‘they’ [his disciples] are turning them into something else entirely, and Judas’ worries that the support of the masses is fragile at best- the lines “and everything you say gets twisted by your lackeys / it will be anything but what you’ve said” and “you are being used by people who want you in their battle” reinforces this again. When combined with Peter Johansson’s tough but tender performance, in which he dances between disdain for Jesus, the institution, and affection for Jesus, the man (an important distinction), Judas is the harsh realist doing his best to look out for the man he loves. The way he takes Jesus hands and looks at him with love and urgency straight away establishes that his motivations are pure- Judas is doing what he thinks is best, even though it feels like no one will listen to him.
That was long, but En Dimmig Himmelsdröm is the perfect character introduction for Judas. He’s not totally unrecognisable, still delivering digs about ‘Jesus, the little carpenter’s son’, his manner is still rough and at this point we’re not sure whether or not the claims he makes about the disciples have any truth to them, BUT we can also see how much Jesus means to him, an important point that give context to the intensity of their future arguments and really makes the whole story much more heartbreaking.
This brings me to Ola Salo’s Jesus. Delightfully camp and queercoded, Judas describes him as being caught up in his own magic and mystery and buckling under the pressure, and he’s not entirely wrong. Throughout the first act, Jesus basks in the luxuries that being messiah can give him (the oils Mary paid for using disciple funds that were supposed to go towards helping the poor, him absolutely thriving in the shopping cart in What’s the Buzz?), and is shown actively avoiding any reminders of the seriousness of his position. He’s sick of the disciples asking him for a plan, he chooses the comforting Mary, who’s theme consists of telling Jesus everything is okay and he doesn’t need to think about anything, over Judas, who is less perhaps ‘cosy’ but is actively trying to warn and protect Jesus from an awful fate. During The Temple, he starts to crack as he’s overcome by the followers begging him to make him well, fear in his eyes as he raises his arms while frozen on the spot trying to avoid being devoured by the frenzy in desperate need of a messiah. Judas’ point about Jesus buckling under the pressure is starting to look more and more reasonable, and the dashes of showbiz campness add to the sense that much of Jesus is a persona constructed for the masses to give himself enough distance to prevent him from being crushed by the weight of God entirely. Jesus, the institution, prances around, lays his hands on his followers, and projects an air of easygoing calm. Jesus, the man, is scared and alone, and Jesus, the man, really comes out in Last Supper, but before we get there, I want to circle back to the Jesus/Mary/Judas thing.
Jesus, Mary, and Judas are presented as a love triangle: so much so, that Judas seeing Mary sing of her love for Jesus (I Don’t Know How To Love Him) is actually played as the inciting incident that sends him to the pharisees. Judas, the picture of the jealous lover, storms onto the scene, breaking them up and attempting to kiss Jesus, who instead shoves him to the ground in disdain. Judas, who is perhaps a little controlling, realises that any influence he had over Jesus has gone, and it’s likely a combination of jealousy and the knowledge that Jesus won’t stop that prompts him to head to the pharisees. In his meeting with the pharisees (known in english as Damned For All Time, although that phrase doesn’t appear once in the swedish), Judas’ expresses outright that “I’m the one who sees / Jesus, he can’t handle it anymore” “the truth is that this hysteria is making him lose control”, once he can get past explaining how much this plan of action feels like a last resort. He never even verbally or physically accept the pharisees’ offer of money, he denies it twice before it is eventually thrown over him after he reluctantly gives them the date and time to find Jesus- we never even see him pick it up, unlike other productions which show Judas grabbing for the cash and place a higher emphasis on Judas making sure he ‘won’t be damned for all time’, painting Judas as far more self serving. When it comes to Jesus, Judas is active- he’s running around trying to help, caressing him, embracing him, grabbing his hand, kissing him. They share countless moment of intimacy, especially at the start, establishing the fondness between them instead of instantly jumping to their conflict. When it comes to Mary (and admittedly, this is partially because she’s a secondary character- don’t get me wrong I still love her and Gunilla Backman does a brilliant job), she’s much more passive. Other than the much more gentle kisses in I Don’t Know How To Love Him and her penchant for dabbing Jesus’ forehead, she’s mostly just ‘there’. She cares for Jesus after the fact, and even when performing acts of intimacy like the oil and the kiss, she maintains a lot of physical distance- her songs touch on this as, much like Jesus (admittedly for different reasons), she actively distances herself from feelings to protect herself, so naturally she literally places distance between herself and the object of her love.
This brings me back to Last Supper, Gethsemane ( I Only Want to Say), and the kiss of death that broke all of our hearts. Throughout this segment, this is when Jesus, the man, really comes through, and it’s devastating. In Last Supper, he properly expresses the sheer amount of loneliness he feels, reiterating how he feels everyone will forget about him once he’s gone, and doesn’t really care about him as a man (”for you, my blood is not worth more than wine / for you, my body is not worth more than bread” “you will have forgotten me as soon as i give up my life”). This devolves into the disciples fighting each other and, you guessed it, ignoring him. For the first time, Jesus meaningfully lets out his anger, and as it turns to Judas, Judas does the same. Because of the set up of their complicated romantic relationship and the stakes involved, the amount of personal attacks and anger that comes out of Jesus and Judas’ repeated fights (which get physical) make complete sense- Jesus’ frustrations come from the fact that his entire fate has been predetermined and to him, Judas is just another instrument in the ways he’s been controlled (both with Judas being his betrayer, but also the way that Judas’ constant advice and interference with Jesus’ life (most obviously, the mary thing) are acted by Ola Salo as becoming increasingly frustrating to Jesus)- these frustrations are directed at their real cause, God, in Gethsemane. Judas’ frustrations come from the fact that no matter how hard he tries to help Jesus and keep him safe, Jesus keeps rejecting his efforts resulting in “all that we’ve built up [being] destroyed”- Judas’ heart hasn’t just been broken by Jesus rejecting him romantically, but on every level. Here, he’s actually shown to be the disciple most passionate about helping people practically and long term, being the only one concerned about Mary taking money which was supposed to help people, manipulated by the pharisees with the promise of doing good for the masses, and criticising Jesus for how they could be doing so much for people, ending his part of Last Supper with “every time i look at you i ask myself why you let all your things go so wrong? / all i ever wanted was to help you”.
This is also the point where Judas’ claims about the disciples are essentially confirmed, and this productions intent to portray Judas as more of a tragic hero become absolutely clear. In the english version, the disciples chorus remains virtually the same each time it appears, generally being far too calm considering their leader is about to die, revealing their aspirations to be apostles, and their intent to write the gospels to be remembered. the swedish translation still achieve this, but with variations from chorus to chorus it becomes much more poignant. i’m just going to stick to ttwo, which are choruses 1 and 3. In chorus 1, lines roughly translate to “i’ve always wanted to be an apostle / life is so nice when you’re saved/ then when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / then everything will be the way we want”- the apostles declaring that life is so good when you’re saved supports Judas’ opening statement that they care more about some idea of heaven than anything else, not to mention ignoring the absolute horrors that Jesus will have to go through to be saved, while the final line about the gospels introduces their intent to change whichever details they need to make ‘everything the way we want’: once again, exactly what Judas warned us of in En Dimmig Himmelsdröm. In chorus 3, taking place after Judas storms out for the last time, these lines change to “never really liked that judas / never saw what jesus saw in him / then, when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / and we’ll angle it so he gets all the blame”. Judas as a sympathetic character is confirmed here, as the disciples straight up admit how they don’t like Judas anyways and intend to write him as a villain (also inadvertently admitting that, since they have to write the gospels to make it look like only Judas’ fault, Judas isn’t really the sole one responsible for everything that is to come). It’s deeply unsettling, and for me was the point where I really began to question how good any of these disciples were, and by extension, how good is this production’s God if his truly sanctified followers are acting like this?
Jesus vents out all of his anger and desperation in Gethsemane. He acknowledges his own powerlessness and begs him to change the plan, but with the dark stage and no response (along with Ola Salo’s spectacular acting) it becomes clear that if anyone is there, they’re certainly not listening (”you, who have all the power / can you please change the plan / for i can already feel the pain burning in me”). It’s worth mentioning that a lot of the imagery in this swedish version is much more intense than the english, both in this song and the production as a whole. Jesus plainly calls god “thoughtless”, begging to understand, and it’s that this point we realise that he agrees with much more of what Judas has been saying than he’s been letting on- Jesus’ faith appears to be the only thing keeping him from listening to Judas and running away. Judas’ messages about people misunderstanding Jesus’ words also come out (”you care that everyone sees / but not that anyone understands”), and his eventual agreeing to die is played less as an inspiring act of faith, and more an act of desperation as he realises, he realise has no other choice. In this song, we see just how much of Judas Jesus has valued and taken on board, and that his air of carefree aloofness which frustrated Judas was, as we’ve already touched on, a complete act. The line “might as well finish what i’ve... what YOU’VE started” is absolutely miserable, reinforcing one of the major themes of this production: the idea that Jesus and Judas were both just ordinary men tormented by futures defined by forces out of their control. Just as Jesus has absorbed Judas’ logic, as an audience so we have, and it’s difficult to view the rest of the play’s events as anything other than an immense and unnecessary act of cruelty.
we’re almost done i promise!
Even knowing what Judas has/will do, Jesus still greets him with love. Judas, still under the impression that Jesus will be okay and that he’s doing what’s best, approaches him with the utmost tenderness, and the kiss is a beautiful signifier of two things. For Jesus, the return of his love for Judas shows his realisation in Gethsemane that Judas isn’t the one who’s sealed his fate and has only being trying to help, it’s god himself who has decided Jesus’ future. For Judas, the kiss shows that despite all of the anger and frustration that has been pouring out of him, he truly does love Jesus, and the way he cradles the scared and alone Jesus to his chest afterwards shows just how much he wishes he could be the one to help him and keep him close. Even with all their arguments and dysfunction, here Jesus and Judas find comfort in each other, and it almost seems like everything will end up alright. It’s in this moment that Judas and Jesus are most identifiable not as enemies, or as villain and hero, but as archetypal lovers from a Shakespearean tragedy. Neither of them set out to hurt each other, but through miscommunications, their own flaws, and external forces (both natural and supernatural), their love is simply never to be. Furthermore, in the following torture and spectacle, everything that Judas predicted for Jesus is about to come true. Another detail I find interesting is the way that Jesus and Judas both sport black nail polish, leather pants, and similar length hair: along with just looking cool as hell, the similarities really reinforce how close they are and how much they influence each other- it feels like a contemporary version of carrying a cameo or a lock of your lover's hair with you, a way for 'star crossed lovers' to keep a piece of their beloved no matter what.
The disaffected persona of Jesus, the institution, comes back as he’s taken by the authorities and subsequently insulted, degraded, and whipped. Also the swedish version of The Arrest, when the chorus starts singing questions, contains this dick joke and I think we all deserve it: “why were you dating a whore? / talk about a huge magic wand!”
Skipping forward to Judas’ Death, this is where both his character and the production’s conception of god beautifully (and miserably) align. When Judas runs to the pharisees, minor semantic changes (along with the genuine concern and great acting from Peter Johansson) reinforce that this Judas genuinely didn’t know that Jesus would be beaten and sentenced to death the way he has been, and Judas’ concern regarding how things look is played less as ‘oh no people will hate ME!’, but how having sentenced the man you love to death is one nightmarish thing, but for everyone to think you did it knowingly and willingly and then congratulate you for it is unthinkable. Where the english shows Judas’ attempting to evade responsibility for Jesus death, the swedish is more focused on Judas’ guilt, horror, and regret. The english “I’d save him all the suffering if I could / don’t believe our good / save him if I could” is swapped in swedish for “If anyone should die here I should / don’t say I’m good / better if I died”. While the english statements are somewhat empty (sure, Judas says he’d save Jesus’ suffering if he could, but he can’t so we’ll never truly know) and are still focused on Judas’ attempt to construct himself as a good guy, the swedish translation has Judas admit his guilt (even if it’s not really his fault), and make the promise of “better if i died” which, given the name of this sequence, he later delivers on. When english Judas sings “Christ, I’d sell out the nation / For I have been saddled with the murder of you”, swedish Judas sings “Jesus, I’ve been deceived / because of my act your blood’s now being spilt”, and instead of ending this first section with “I should be dragged through the slime and the mud”, swedish jesus returns to the theme of character assasination with “i will be cursed as the one behind your murder”.
The swedish translation of the next rework of I Don’t Know How to Love Him also places much more emphasis on Judas’ genuine romantic love for Jesus- we’d be here for hours if i listed everything but here are a few key contrasts. The english has Judas sing “I don’t know how to love him / I don’t know why he moves me”, whereas the swedish has Judas crying while singing “how do I show my love / all I want is to be close to you”. Along with acknowledging Judas already loves Jesus, the entirety of this segment is shifted from Judas singing about Jesus in the third person ‘he’, to a direct address. Judas isn’t performing his sadness, or venting his emotions, he’s emitting one last desperate cry to the man he loves as he sobs on a stage completely shrouded in darkness, and it’s devastating. Peter Johansson lets his voice run raw as he’s belting, and interrupts lines with sobs, and this Judas answers the question of “do you love me too? do you care for me?” with a quiet “no”- Judas is about to go to his death convinced Jesus must hate him, just as Jesus will face his knowing his love inadvertently put him there.
We finally reach Judas’ actual death, and the production’s far more ambiguous (if not negatively geared) depiction of god comes to a head. Judas’ screaming at god the moment he realises that his god essentially forced Judas to be the one to kill Jesus (an act of ultimate cruelty given their love) comes across as horrifying in it’s validity, unlike in other english language productions where it follows the more common characterisation of Judas being an unbeliever who can’t take responsibility for his own actions. When he spits on the ground, screaming “you have murdered me!”, we can’t help but agree- Judas was trying everything he could to stop Jesus from dying, and yet here he is. Most notably, Judas doesn’t set up his own suicide- a noose literally descends from the heavens, already tied, and Judas is literally trapped between the edge of the stage, and the symbol of death behind him. Much like he didn’t choose to kill Jesus, Judas has no choice in his own suicide- it’s suggested to merely be another part of the plan god has for him, and Judas raising his arms to form a crucifixion pose before he finally turns and jumps, disappearing into the depths of the theatre as the rope trails down (somewhat evocative of a leap to hell), highlight the sick joke. Much like Jesus begging in Gethsemane, a plea with god that in anyway implies fault or cruelty is met with silence followed by a death sentence.
When Judas reappears to the broken and bloodied Jesus in Superstar, he appears as more of a twisted hallucination than the literal spirit of Judas. He’s the opposite of everything he was in life, draped in colour, surrounded by red lighting instead of the signature blue, his hair quite literally let down, joking and dancing. Despite singing about him, Judas virtually ignores Jesus for the whole song except when he’s taunting him, snatching his hand away after a broken and desperate Jesus reaches out for the image of his beloved (refuting Judas’ belief that Jesus would die hating him), along with the swedish additions of Judas repeatedly addressing him as “little Jesus”. Where the living Judas was serious, sometimes harsh but always well intention, often paying more attention to Jesus than he received, this Judas is the opposite: light hearted but cruel, not caring about Jesus one bit. It’s somewhat an inversion of the beginning of JCS, where the tormented Judas was constantly reaching out to Jesus, and often met with scorn and insult (see: most of their arguments, this line from Everything’s Alright: “the thought is beautiful but quite unrealistic / yes, even quite stupid”). As the song goes on, and even as Jesus is crucified, the victorious scoring of the Superstar theme ends up reinforcing the cruelty and questioning of god distinctive of this production: Ola Salo’s Jesus is one of the bloodiest Jesus’s (Jesii?) I’ve been able to find, with blood covering his torso, his arms, and all over his face, not in passive dribbles, but violent ‘swooshes’ spreading out from his eyes, emphasising the fear and pain contained within them. As the music suggests how great and wonderful Jesus’ death is, the images straight out of a horror movie before us don’t seem to match up: as both Judas and Jesus question, if no one is understanding what Jesus is saying, why kill him? instead of making a point, you’re ensuring that the falsehoods continue to circulate, unless spreading the true message isn’t really the intent at all. or, simply that Jesus was wrong: his interpretation and teachings of god were far too kind and practical, and the true god really is the one that he briefly saw in the garden of Gethsemane, and that Judas saw before his death- a cruel and vindictive god using them for his own sick purposes. If you're a strong Christian, I'm sure you could watch this production and still believe that God was right (although I think Jesus and Judas being in love counts as blasphemy), but I think in doing so you'd lose part of what makes this production so hard hitting and, as i keep saying, devastating.
that’s pretty much it for this one! i feel like jesus and judas as a queer couple is less significant to this production than the fact that it’s specifically jesus and judas that are in love - they don’t face explicit homophobia as such, although i do think the paratextual and historical associations of queerness (both with them each looking visibly queer, and them as a couple) adds a beautiful dimension by subverting the standard christian teaching of Jesus’ sacrifice as “a love that changed the world” and making the love that truly could have been transformative (and was, to a degree) the love between Jesus and another man, not to mention the way in which queerness is often viewed as radical perfectly upholding the ‘radical’ views of god and the story of Jesus shown in the production. Why wouldn’t the love between two men be the love which has us questioning god, faith, and that which many of us have been taught since birth? Ola Salo has talked about how he’s able to be positive and negative towards christianity, along with how he wanted Jesus and Judas to really represent two sides of the same coin (’faith and intelligence’), and being bisexual along with having alluded to being raised christian (not to mention Breaking Up With God, a song by his band The Ark), it’s not surprising he’s managed to present such a nuanced and layered interpretation of Jesus Christ Superstar that even me, a trans exvangelical, can fall in love with.
UPDATE: @bands-and-hobbits has just let me know that Ola's dad was a priest! Apparently he's said that he liked the organs and the music, but that was all when it comes to christianity, which (when combined with Ola stating in interviews that the JCS soundtrack has been one of his favourite albums since he was 14) makes a lot of sense about the level of familiarity he had with the text giving him confidence to go in and make changes to really capitalised off of some of the themes that are hinted at in the english version- you have enough information to understand how everything works together, but aren't so dedicated to preserving belief that you feel you can't improve/change things (and my god are we glad he did)
#thank you if you made it this far!#also the inherent rhythm in swedish as a language just makes all of the songs sound better i'm gonna say it#english is really hit and miss when it comes to music and can get especially clunky with musicals requiring exposition#also sorry there's so much i've left out !#anyways enjoy#jesus christ superstar#jesus christ superstar swedish arena tour 2014#jcs#peter johansson#ola salo#also i have barely edited this so i hope it's coherent
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How to write an essay (especially when you struggle with writing essays)
[Image Description: A graphic titled “BASIC ESSAY STRUCTURE”. There are 3 sections. The first section is regarding the introduction, labelled “Agonize for an hour”. The second section is regarding the body, labelled “oh hell yes i can do this no problem i got stuff to say i’m on a roll”. The third section is regarding the conclusion, labelled “I am going to walk into the sea”. /End Image Description]
I saw this post about essay writing with this as the structure and I just. Screamed a bit. The outline above (imo) makes a very boring essay that is UNNECESSARILY DIFFICULT to write. I was gonna just add onto the post, but I thought I’d make my own because I have a LOT to say.
So, to start off, I have spent far too long making this handy-dandy graphic with an essay structure that I find to be a lot more helpful.
[Image Description: A graphic titled “ESSAY OUTLINE”. There are 7 sections. They include the outline for the Introduction, Body, and Conclusion, along with tips for all three, and then a section for General Tips. /End Image Description]
There’s some pretty lengthy explanations under the cut, and I spent way too long on this. However, I’m passionate about writing and hate seeing how much people struggle to write simply because they haven’t been given the right tools.
Without further ado, here we go!
Introduction (1 paragraph)
Opening Statement: This is your intro/hook. With an effective opening sentence, you want to introduce the main topic of the paper, and make it interesting for the reader to draw them in. The introductory sentence should be somewhat objective; your thesis will be your arguing point, but we need to know the general topic without the bias. As for the hook part—your prof/TA/teacher/whoever is grading your paper has read the same paper 600 times. Your paper probably won’t be entirely unique, BUT you can still make it stand out. This is where the “hook” comes in. An easy way to do this is to simply start with a verb. Reading papers that all start with “the” or “a” can get really repetitive and boring, so an action word can be a good way to grab the reader’s attention. You don’t want your opening statement to be too long; a sentence or two should be your goal.
Allude to Thesis: Right after the opening statement, use a sentence to briefly allude to your thesis (the stance you’ll be taking on the topic). This way, you can state your argument points without having to worry about wording your thesis correctly right away, or risk your thesis getting lost within the introduction. This is kinda a segue to your points rather than its own official “section”, so keep it brief.
Outline Supporting Points: These are the points that help support your argument. Avoid using a list form for this by using things like semi-colons or commas; each supporting point should have its own sentence. Saying that, definitely use transition words to help the sentences flow together so it doesn’t just seem like a laundry list. Don’t limit yourself to three points unless that’s explicitly part of the assignment. At least two is good if you can expand on them enough to do the paper, but don’t be afraid to use four or five if you’re still able to stay within the limits and expand on them enough to be individual points. However, sometimes too many points can make it hard to expand, so see if you can group some together if you have too many.
Thesis: Your thesis should be a statement, subjective, demonstrable, and specific. It therefore should not be a question, objective, hypothetical, or vague. This is because your thesis is a definitive stance on a specific issue or topic that you can prove with evidence. As for placement, I always put my thesis at the very end of the introduction. I would say it’s up to personal preference whether to put it at the beginning or the end, but please never put it in the middle. When it’s in the middle, it’s very likely that it won’t stand out as a thesis, and then you’d have to come up with both an opening and closing statement, which is hard. I like putting it at the end because I find that if I do it at the beginning, it can be REALLY hard to balance having a clear thesis while also introducing your paper and making it interesting. Plus, if it’s at the end of your first paragraph, it still stands out, you don’t have to do a concluding statement, you don’t have to balance any other aspect of writing (like an intro or hook) with it, AND it creates the perfect transition to your supporting points. Limit your thesis statement to one or two sentences—you want it to stand out to the reader as the thesis, and you don’t want to muddle the message by being too detailed. You’ll have the rest of the paper to expand.
Body (2-10+ paragraphs)
Introduce Evidence: For each piece of supporting evidence (your main points), make sure you introduce them clearly before actually explaining everything about them. Don’t be afraid to word it in an interesting way (although remember, you still want your message to be clear!). I also want to give you an incredibly important tip: the amount of supporting points you have DOES NOT have to correspond with the amount of body paragraphs you have. They drill the five-paragraph essay outline into you for years, and it’s BORING—for you and whoever’s grading your paper. It’s also bad writing, because then you get unnaturally long paragraphs that take up a page and a half. So, unless your assignment rubric says otherwise, don’t be afraid to get creative with the paragraph amount. Always start a new paragraph when introducing a new main point, but definitely consider splitting the main point into two or three paragraphs if needed. Disclaimer: sometimes if you have to split a point into multiple paragraphs, that means you might want to consider splitting the main point into multiple main points. On the other hand, sometimes combining two main points into one can help make a paragraph more substantial.
Expand: For each point, expand. Explain any extra details. Relate the explanations back to your main point so you can stay on target and not go on tangents that take up half the page.
Connect to Thesis: After you expand each point, as a concluding statement, relate the main point back to the thesis (the whole point of the paper!). Anyone can list evidence—show that you understand why this evidence is connected and how it proves your stance. If you can’t connect the point to your thesis, it’s probably not relevant or you need to do more research. By making the connection between the evidence and your thesis, 1. This is how you get bonus marks, and 2. It makes for an excellent concluding statement/transition to the next main point.
Repeat: For each main point, follow the structure of introduce-expand-connect.
Conclusion (1 paragraph)
Restate Thesis/Main Points: Rather than coming up with another introductory statement, restate your thesis and the main points that helped to prove your thesis. Please try to reword it so it’s not repetitive, and it’s best to keep the restating brief. You’ve already established all of this in your paper, so you don’t need too much detail. A sentence or two is fine. Another tip is to avoid basic concluding words. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but definitely avoid the ones that involve the word “conclude” or its derivatives (e.g. “in conclusion”; to conclude”, etc.). Keep this part to one or two sentences to avoid the dreaded repetition.
Explain Relevance/Make Connections: Here is something I NEVER see in the common essay templates, and honestly, I feel like it’s one of the most important things with essay writing. It’s the difference between just another essay in a pile of 200, and one that stands out as exemplary. SO. We know your thesis. We know your evidence. You’ve even briefly restated it in case we forgot. Now, WHY is your thesis (and by extension, the paper you just spent a few hours on) actually important? Why is it relevant? Who cares? You don’t want to give too much “new” information, but you really should be able to find some connection as to why your paper matters. Because if you don’t see the point in it, how are you gonna convince the reader that your paper is worth reading? Essays are about arguments, yes, and convincing people that You’re Correct and You Know Things, but you need to be able to connect with other things to see the true relevance. Make connections, folks!
Concluding Statement: Truly the bane of anyone’s existence. A good tip is to look at it as your Mic Drop moment—your time to wrap it up, drop the mic, and walk offstage. Tie your thesis, evidence, and connections together into a sentence or two with a little pizzazz and sense of finality, leaving no room to argue.
General Tips
Know your audience: This can sometimes help with finding the balance between over- and under-explaining things. With essays, the person grading (the audience) is probably a bit above your current level, unless it’s being marked by another student or something. So write at your level—or the average level of your class/group. For example, if you’re in a second-year university biology class, you probably don’t need to explain what photosynthesis means. But if your essay is on a little known technique to measure chlorophyll levels in plants, you might need to explain some things that you already know, but others might not. Remember, your goal is neither to dumb yourself down nor put yourself on an academic pedestal—your goal is to communicate a message in an effective way that can be understood by the appropriate audience.
Pick a relevant topic: Sometimes this doesn’t apply, as you have limited choices. But, whenever possible, choose a topic that you actually know something about and/or are willing to write about. Sometimes even asking your teacher/prof if you can choose your own topic is worth it. The main point: picking something you find interesting makes you more willing to put in the work to write a good essay. Pick you favourite topic out of the options (or, at a minimum, the one yo hate the least).
Experiment with the writing process: Some people swear it’s easier to write the conclusion first, while others absolutely have to write the essay in chronological order. Some people need to finish what they start, some people need to flit around and add things as they think of them. Ultimately, the order you write things is very much a personal preference, and something worth experimenting with if you’re struggling!
Cater to your writing needs: Writers will tell you that they need to set up a space to write. Some people like writing on their bed or in a cafe. Some people need absolute quiet while others can’t focus without background noise. Some people need frequent breaks for the best results, others need to sit through until they’re done. The time of day can affect your writing—writing in the morning might be really difficult if you’re most alert at midnight. Lastly, experiment with different media. Maybe writing on a laptop just doesn’t work for you, and pen and paper is the way to go. Typewriters are fun. Microsoft Word might work better for you than Google Docs. Find out what works for you and gets you into a writing headspace.
Repetition and word choice: To avoid sounding like a broken record, make sure you use a different first (and even last) word for each paragraph. I always notice when an essay writer only starts paragraphs with the word “the”. Another helpful way to vary your word choice at the beginning of paragraphs is to use different types of word, preferably words that aren’t articles (a, an, or the). Using a noun, verb, or transition word can keep things interesting and help your writing flow.
Write with an active voice: Writing with an active, positive, and resolute voice fortifies your writing. An active voice is when the subject is the focus rather than the object, whereas a passive voice is the opposite. Example: “Sally ate a grape” is active because Sally (subject) ate a grape (object). “A grape was eaten by Sally” is passive because the grape (object) was eaten by Sally (subject). Essentially, if the sentence includes (or could include) “by [Subject]”, it’s passive. Even if you wrote “A grape was eaten,” that’s still passive. An active voice includes the subject doing the action, whereas a passive voice includes the object having something done to it. It’s a wishy-washy way of writing, though it’s sometimes inevitable in formal writing because you can’t use subjective pronouns. As for a positive voice, it doesn’t mean your essay has to be happy or perky—it means your writing, when possible, should focus on the positive part (what did happen or was added) rather than the negative part (what didn’t happen or was taken away). Example: “Sally didn’t eat an apple” is negative, because it just says what Sally didn’t do. “Sally ate a grape” is positive because it said what she did do. Lastly, use a resolute voice. Be concise and to the point without muddling the message with unnecessary words. Example: “Sally just a grape” is tentative. “Sally ate a grape” is resolute. Word like “just”, “maybe”, “really”, “perhaps”, “necessarily” are not resolute and can weaken your argument. Definitely take this advice for your thesis.
Communicate clearly: Using long or complicated words can improve your writing—but if they’re overused or used unnecessarily, it can actually weaken your argument because no one understands what you’re trying to say under all that academic jargon. If you can’t explain your argument in an understandable way, you probably don’t have a good grasp of your argument. This isn’t to discredit people who have a hard time articulating while writing or people who need to use complicated words—but the whole point of a paper is to communicate a message in an effective way. If you’re too caught up in using big words, it’s very easy to lose the actual focus of the paper.
Fortify your opening/closing statements: If the person grading your paper has a lot of other papers to go through, they’re not gonna read every word you write. Focus on strengthening your first and last sentences of each paragraph to perhaps improve your mark with the graders who skim.
Proofread: PLEASE read through and edit your work. You don’t have to completely rewrite your paper (who has the time???), but definitely proofread it when you’re done. If possible (I know it isn’t always, but it really helps), give yourself as much time as possible, then do another read through. Even waiting an hour or two and then going through it again can help you catch some last-minute mistakes. When you’ve been staring at the same paper for three hours, you kinda just ignore the mistakes because they’re burned into your brain. Going back can help you catch them and fix them before handing it in. Double check the assignment requirements, including formatting, sources, grammar, etc.
Kudos to you if you made it to the end! This took me 4 hours? 5? I hope it helps some of you in school. Essays can be a really fun thing to write if you’re passionate about the topic, and they shouldn’t be nearly as hard as school makes them. Even if you didn’t read this whole thing, I hope my graphic can be helpful! The original essay structure from the other post made me mad because no wonder some of you guys struggle! When you don’t have the tools, it makes life difficult.
Here’s a pic of my cat and dog for making it this far!
End note: I’ve never done an image description so I apologize if it’s not perfect!
#writing#writing advice#quasimodo speaks#i spent so long on this pleaseeee#essay#school#college#university#paper#education#advice#life hack#infographic
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@ruby-whistler so uh I accidentally wrote a bit of an essay here so I’ve made this its own post instead of adding it as a reblog lol
But yes the Prince reminds me very strongly of c!Dream in quite a few ways. This is probably not what my political theory professor had in mind when he had us read Machiavelli and Locke but the c!Dream brainrot is strong <3
Something that stood out to me about the Prince was, while it focuses how to be an effective leader and the balance between cruelty and kindness, it’s also about possessions, attachments, control. People are attached to their land and to their countries, and the way a leader approaches this attachment can make or break them. Sounds familiar right?
c!Dream, as the story progresses, loses more and more control of his server and his life, and becomes more and more of a Machiavellian villain as a result. By the time of the Disc Saga Finale, c!Dream has adopted this mindset of the ends justifying the means, and that the most effective mean is cruelty. This forms a super interesting contrast with c!Techno, who has a bit of an opposite story- he starts off believing the only way people will listen to him is if he uses violence to get their attention, but, when his withers after the Pogtopia Revolution fail to convince anyone of his viewpoint, realizes that violence doesn’t always work and tries to do a 180, becoming a pacifist. But when he is isolated and alone, his attachments (Carl, Phil) are used against him. He dies for his attachments and walks away not believing they don’t matter but rather realizing how important they are to him, and so he takes his horse and his bff and tells L’Manburg to kindly go screw themselves, then comes back later and blows them to smithereens for hurting him and his friends. And now, current day c!Techno has learnt through the Syndicate that attachment- friendship- is a far greater strength than violence. c!Rivalsduo my beloveds
So with that side tangent out of the way, here are some quotes from the Prince that I believe fit c!Dream :D under the cut for length
Chapter numbers are from the Wooton version of the text I believe!
Chapter 8:
"Well-used cruelty (if one can speak well of evil) one may call those atrocities that are committed at a stroke, in order to secure one's power, and are then not repeated, rather every effort is made to ensure one’s subjects benefit in the long run. An abuse of cruelty one may call those policies that, even if in the beginning they involve little bloodshed, lead to more rather than less as time goes by."
L'Manburg my not-so-beloved </3 from an in character pov, c!Dream was a very different person back during the Independence War and so he didn't "commit atrocities at a stroke" like Machiavelli argues, because he didn't really believe in this idea. But by not destroying L'Manburg, by not getting rid of c!Wilbur right from the get go, how much blood was shed? How much suffering did L'Manburg ultimately cause, suffering that would've been avoided if only c!Dream had stopped it then and there? Would he still have his big happy family? This is the beginning of the ends justify the means to me- you can hurt people, commit atrocities, so long as you’re doing it to prevent further violence.
Chapter 17:
"For love attaches men by ties of obligation, which, since men are wicked, they break whenever their interests are at stake. But fear restrains men because they are afraid of punishment, and this fear never leaves them. Still, a ruler should makes himself feared in such a way that, if he does not inspire love, at least he does not provoke hatred. For it is perfectly possible to be feared and not hated. You will only be hated if you seize the property or women of your subjects or citizens. Whenever you have to kill someone, make sure you have a suitable excuse and an obvious reason; but, above all else, keep your hand off other people’s property; for men are quicker to forget the death of their father than the loss of their inheritance."
"I conclude then, that as far as being feared and loved is concerned, since men decide for themselves whom they love, and rulers decide whom they fear, a wise ruler should rely on the emotion he can control, not on the one he cannot. But he must take care to avoid being hated, as I have said."
There's a lot to unpack with this one, but man, attachments. Once again they take centre stage. People may grow attached to you and vice versa, but “men are wicked” and may leave you out to dry. c!Dream Team anyone?? Two other ideas stick out for me- "fear restrains men" and "make sure you have a suitable excuse and an obvious reason" to kill people. This is c!Dream post New L’Manburg, c!Dream with exile and the hall of attachments. The burning of c!George’s house is nothing too unusual for this server, but it provided the perfect excuse for c!Dream to control c!Tommy. c!Dream, by exile, has lost just about everything- his friends, who fought by him in the first war, his pets, killed or stolen and used against him, his beliefs and his desire for peace and harmony overshadowed by the knowledge that he can’t make everything go back to how it used to be. c!Dream now believes the only way to take control of his life is to control everyone else’s, and to do that, he relies on fear. This ties into the second quote as well, because by now he is grasping for control the only way he knows how- through threats and violence. His downfall is that he makes himself hated in the process by trying to control people’s attachments- their property mentioned in the quote. He makes himself more hated than feared, but he is both by the time he is imprisoned.
Chapter 18:
“Of course, if all men were good, this advice would be bad; but since men are wicked and will not keep faith with you, you need not keep faith with them.”
“In general, men judge more by sight than by touch. Everyone sees what is happening, but not everyone feels the consequences. Everyone sees what you seem to be; few have direct experience of who you really are.”
What no pov does to a mf. c!Dream is judged entirely on appearance, constantly, both by the characters and the audience. He has no point of view, so we do not get his internal thoughts or his reasoning, we only see the results of his actions and not what led him to take those actions. As well as this, we see his behaviour toward people like c!Punz and c!Techno with that first quote- there’s no point in making friends because they will one day turn on you or be used against you, so it’s hired help and business partners at best. Since people hurt and betray and leave you, you can do the same to them, because that’s just how people are, right? “Men are wicked” so you can be to.
Chapter 19:
"You become hateful, above all, as I have said, if you prey on the possessions and the women of your subjects. You should leave both alone. The vast majority of men, so long as their goods and their honor are not taken from them, will live contentedly, so you will only have to contend with the small minority who are ambitious, and there are lots of straightforward ways of keeping them under control."
And here it is- attachments and control summarized nice and neatly. I think c!Dream realized the only thing that could help him in his goals of returning to his big happy family is through forcing others to do what he wants. Especially if the prison was built for c!Dream all along as a final villain to unite the server against him.
c!Dream does the opposite of what Machiavelli suggests here, actively "preying on" the other members' attachments, but he does it to help him keep this ambitious minority (especially c!Tubbo and c!Tommy) under control. By the Disc War Finale, c!Dream is pretty much universally hated or disliked, so I don't think he was particularly fussed with trying to make everyone content. Instead, I think he realized that all people value their possessions and attachments, and that this entire saga has been about people using their possessions to control each other (Dream with the discs, Tommy with Spirit and Mars and Beckerson, everyone with L'Manburg, the Pet Wars, everything has been about attachments and how they can be used against you). Once he realized this, he threw Machiavelli out the window, because how can he be an effective leader without any control of his subjects? He directly goes against Machiavelli’s advice and it comes back to bite him, because now he’s quite literally in a prison of his own creation.
This got… extremely long lmao anyway those are some of the quotes that stuck out to me when reading the Prince and skimming some articles about it! To me, c!Dream is Machiavellian by way of tragedy- he didn’t start out believing cruelty is kindness. But it’s so interesting to see how something as absurd as a Minecraft roleplay can echo the same political thoughts and arguments people have been having for centuries.
#dsmp analysis#my posts#this got so long oops#I'd love to see your thoughts if there's anything you wanna add!!
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Study tips for people who’ve never had to study before
It recently came to my attention that there are a whole load of ~highly achieving~ students out there who’ve never had to learn to study, but suddenly being naturally gifted just doesn't work anymore. I’ve been in this exact position & came out of it ok, so here are some important things I picked up along the way/wish I knew back then.
Habits. If you build good study habits early, before things start getting intense, you’ll be well set for when the stress comes. Maybe always finish your homework before tea, or come home and study for an hour before you change into sweats. Association is helpful - if you have an established routine for something else, like getting a coffee or sports training or practicing an instrument, say you’ll always study directly before or after that. Make it work for you.
Little and often. People say this about languages but it’s the same for anything. Half an hour every day is so much more effective than 3 hours in a day, once a week, and you won't feel wiped out afterwards either. This works for long term projects as well - breaking things down into manageable chunks and doing one little bit per day is much less overwhelming than sitting down and telling yourself you’re writing your whole essay today.
Time management. Parkinson’s law is real. Set yourself a limit, say you’re going to write this essay before tea, or you’re going to do this maths for no more than 2 hours. Things will drag on and fill as much time as you allow them to, especially bigger projects, so stick to a schedule. If at all possible, aim to have bigger assignments complete at least a week before they’re due, so you have time for printer problems, formatting disasters, etc etc. This ties in with organisation, which is equally important. I don’t mean perfectly drawn schedules and bullet journals (even if thats what studyblr wants us to believe) but get a diary, I use a page per day diary but you can use a notebook, wall planner, whatever. Put deadlines and classes and exams and everything in there asap, and then day to day you can make a to-do list of smaller tasks. These should be flexible, so if something comes up or a task is unexpectedly complicated, you can adapt and just add it to the next day. Don’t set your expectations too high - its better to set out to work for 4 hours and achieve that than to say you’ll do 8, only manage 4 and feel like a failure.
Your environment is important! Your desk does not have to be all white minimalism and pastel highlighters to be a good study space, but try make it as clear as possible, well lit, and free from distractions. The bigger the better. Make sure you have everything you need within reach, including a plug for a charger, if you use a laptop. Quiet is ideal but not always possible, so make yourself a playlist of background music (or try one of mine, here.) Libraries are great, because they’re literally designed for reading in and having people working around you can be really motivating. Avoid procrastination at all costs. Leave your phone somewhere far away, turn it off, or use the forest app. And try not to work where you sleep, because that won't help with your work or your sleep (bedroom is fine, in bed is not.)
Test yourself. Repeated retrieval is the best form of learning, so if you have past papers or quizzes thats great, use them! If not, writing your own questions or getting some study buddies and writing questions for each other is a good way of studying, because it forces you to think about the material in a different way.
Teach others. It’s great if you have a friend or two to revise with, but if not, try writing presentations, talking to yourself, a pet, a plant... anyone who’ll listen. Break down concepts into simpler language, as if you were explaining it to someone younger. Use flow charts and clear diagrams, and be concise. This will not only consolidate your understanding, but you'll get some great notes out of it (and presentation practice.)
Your notes do not have to be beautiful! I love looking at these aesthetic studyblr notes as much as the next person but realistically that takes hours and calligraphy is not an efficient use of your precious time. Try to keep them as concise as possible - bullet points are good - and use no more than 3 colours per page or they’ll lose meaning. Don’t go too hard with the highlighters. Arrows and annotations and post it note additions are all excellent - don’t rewrite what you’ve already got! That is not good revision. I’m sorry. Try using a whiteboard. For short answer questions, calculations, quick diagrams - anything you’d use scrap paper for - a mini white board is great. I mean something like this which is cheap and also better for the rainforests than using a whole bunch of paper that you’re just going to throw out. I *borrowed* mine from school which I do not condone but may be an option.
Take regular breaks. A good rule of thumb is that your break should be around 25% of your study time, so if you study for an hour - 15 minutes off. Study for 8 hours - 2 hours off. And take your breaks properly - get up, leave the room if you can. Get some fresh air, even if thats just opening a window, drink some coffee water, have a snack if you need it. Try not to fuel yourself on junk food - biscuits are essential but have some fruit or nuts or something as well - they actually help your brain work and you’ll feel better for it.
Don’t compare. I know this is easier said than done, but study for yourself. Find your own method, whether that’s what everyone around you does or not. Try not to compare grades, either. A little bit of competition can be healthy, but (especially around exams) don’t listen to the people who “only did 12 hours last night.” Equally, ignore the people who say they haven't studied at all and don’t let either of them get to you. You know how hard you’re working, and who know how efficient they are?
It’s never too late. This is maybe the most important thing to take away from this. You may have weeks, even days until your final/assessment/essay, but it is not too late to start studying. I’ll make a post about how to cram later, but even though its not ideal, it can definitely be the difference between a pass and a fail or an A and an A*. So if you think you’ve left it too late - you haven’t.
Good luck, and feel free to message me if you want more tips/details/a sympathetic shoulder to cry on about how hard all this is <3
#studyblr#studyspo#study tips#studying#study#study aesthetic#revision#work#learning#dark academia#light academia#light academic#dark academic#university#college#school#exams#online exams#remote learning#lockdown#uni#medschool#medics#medblr#advice#becks writes#help#organisation#desk#time management
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Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 2
I.II
Masterlist
Warnings: None
"Please don’t tell me you started this paper last night," You groan as you hold out your hand for Katie’s essay as you intend to hand them in to Professor Hotchner.
"Fine. I didn’t start this paper last night," You roll your eyes as a shit-eating grin spreads across your best friends face
"God you’re so judgy, Sigmund," She snorts and starts shoving her books into her bag. You furrow your brows in horror at the nickname.
"Absolutely not," You laugh.
She smiles at you, "Freud?"
"Why can’t we just stick with Einstein?" You argue with her, your classmates filing out all around you.
"Come on kid, changing the nickname is funnier," She stands up, slinging her bag onto her shoulder.
"Funnier for who? You or me?"
"Both of us."
"For someone nearly 5 years my senior you sure act like a child," You roll your eyes and turn to walk your papers to the front of the class. You try to avoid Professor Hotchner’s eye line, but he glances up from tucking his papers into a briefcase to take the two essays from your hand. Your fingers touch his as you hand them in but you’re quick to pull away, "Sorry, sir."
To say you’re terrified of Hotchner would be an understatement. After your disastrous first day of class, you can’t catch a break. He’s overly critical of every fucking word you say in class. So much so, that you’ve resigned to barely participating at all. But that just spurs him on to cold call on you.
"Freud?" Hotchner quirks up an eyebrow as he looks over your essay, flipping through the pages.
Your face grows to a wonderful shade of pink and you focus your eyes on the essay in his hands. Then you realize you’re staring a little too much at his hands. "I hope my work is to your satisfaction, Sir."
You don’t have to look up at him to know that fucking pompous smirk is quickly spreading across his face, "We’ll see."
You nod, turning away to snatch up your bag and grab Katie’s hand dragging her out of the class as fast as possible.
She’s unable to contain her laughter as you speed out, "Oh my god! You’re such a little teacher's pet."
"Will you shut up?"
"I hope it’s to your satisfaction sir!" She teases you, mocking the high pitch tone of your voice.
"You’re insufferable," You punch her arm lightly.
---
You shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around your body. You’re not wearing much which isn’t helping with the chilly New York air. However, getting into a club under the age of 21 means less clothing and a lot of confidence, a pairing that seems kind of counterproductive. You glance over at Katie and your larger group of friends.
One of your male friends, Charlie, walks over to ruffle your hair playfully, "Don’t worry kid, we’ll get you in."
You roll your eyes, "Charlie, I’m not a kid."
"You’re the youngest here, therefore you are the kid in this friend group." He hands you the small flask from his pocket and you down the remaining liquor inside of it.
"I’ve had boyfriends older than you," You hand it back, pressing it against his chest as you do. "Besides, I’m the most responsible one here."
He raises a brow, "Says the girl who just downed nearly two shots of tequila from my flask." As you step to the door of the club the bouncer gives you a fast once over before looking among the group of friends before simply letting you inside. "See? So nervous and for what, da Vinci?" He grins as you step inside.
"Da Vinci? Really?" You laugh, "Not you too."
"Did you know da Vinci actually had one of the highest IQs in history? Estimated at nearly 220!" As you step further into the club, the music starts to drown out Charlie’s ramblings.
"That’s it!" You chuckle as Katie is quick to bring over a round of shots, "No more stupid nicknames." You gesture at your group with the shot in hand before downing it.
"Aw, I thought Sigmund was gonna stick," One of your friends pipes up and you flip them off.
"I’m not giving up on Einstein, that’s fucking cute," Charlie rests an arm on your shoulder.
"See! That’s what I said," Katie smirks.
"Einstein is better than ‘kid,’" You roll your eyes. "And Freud? Really?"
"Sorry I embarrassed you in front of your boyfriend," Katie teases, hiding her large smile behind her glass.
"Einstein has a boyfriend?" Charlie turns to you.
"No." You reply curtly.
"Oh, Professor Hotchner I hope you like my essay! Oh, Professor Hotchner, I’m sorry I was late. Sorry, sir, won’t happen again." Katie continues to tease you, mocking your voice, "Oh Hotchner if I mess up you can spank me!" At that Charlie laughs harder and throws his arm around your shoulders.
"That’s it!" Your face is burning, not only from embarrassment but the alcohol you very quickly consumed is finally getting to you. You establish a vice grip on Katie’s wrist and drag her out towards the dance floor. A few of your friends follow the two of you.
"You can’t deny he’s hot!" Katie yells over the loud music as you and all your friends begin to dance around like idiots.
"Of course he’s hot," A friend agrees.
"Yeah but he’s an asshole," You shake your head.
"That makes him a million times hotter," Katie smirks at you.
"You have some serious issues," You roll your eyes but you can’t help but agree with her. Is he an asshole? Yes. But the way he looks at you. The way he’s so confident, so smart. He commands the attention of the whole classroom with just his presence. The way he can reduce you to stuttering just from leaning against his desk or taking a few strides towards you. The way his hands brushed against yours today when you handed in your paper.
"I would drop everything to fuck him," Another one of your friends joins in agreement with Katie.
"Maybe that’s the key to getting an A in his class," You scoff and shake your head, "He obviously doesn’t care about hard work, preparation, participation."
"Oh you’re just bitter because he doesn’t worship you," Katie laughs, "You know you can’t be every professor’s favorite all the time."
"Yeah but—" You turn to her and someone far behind her catches your eye, "Oh you have to be fucking joking." He’s sitting at a table in the back of the bar. He’s next to another man around his age, you assume another professor or a work friend of his. However, he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to what the man next to him is saying.
"What?" Katie whips around, following your eye line to the back of the bar. "Holy shit he looks good!" She grins.
Professor Hotchner’s eyes are trained on you and his focus is unwavering. Little by little all your friends turn and notice him sitting there watching you. He raises his glass with that smug smirk on his face, almost as if to greet you.
Like a group of lovesick teenagers, all your friends give him sweet smiles and little waves. You roll your eyes, "Can we please get away from his eyesight? He’s making me sick to my stomach."
"Sick to your stomach? He looks hot," Katie gives another laugh and wave to Hotchner and he shakes his head slightly. You can tell he isn’t paying attention to your friends, he’s just looking at you.
"It’s in his name," Your other friend jokes as the three of you walk to the bar, to get away from the hot, crowded dance floor, "Hotchner."
You lean against the bar, slightly sweaty and panting as you slide onto the stool. "Could I just get a glass of water?" The bartender nods, sliding over a small glass. You trace your finger around the rim. "Isn’t it creepy that he’s here?"
"Creepy? It’s a popular bar."
"Well, he has to know students come here to hang out."
"We’re all adults."
"Well most of us," Charlie teases as he comes up behind the three of you.
"Last time I checked, anyone over the age of 18 is an adult," You elbow his chest, "Oh wait, you’re 24 and you’re still a child."
He sticks his tongue out at you and takes your glass of water, sipping from it.
"Hey! That’s mine!" You laugh and he shrugs before disappearing back onto the crowded dance floor with your other friend.
"He was looking at you a lot," Katie chuckles, "Maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you think."
"No he hates me," You groan and lean more of your weight onto the bartop. "Which it really does not help that he’s so fucking hot right now—" You turn to look around to where he was sitting previously to see that he’s no longer there.
"Having a good night, ladies?" You hear a deep voice come from your left and you nearly jump out of your seat. When you turn to look, Professor Hotchner stands right next to you and Katie.
"Professor Hotchner!" You jump slightly. "We were just—"
"Heading out for a dance," Katie grins and turns, leaving you alone at the bar with your professor.
You give an awkward, forced smile as Professor Hotchner slides into a seat two away from yours. "Whiskey, neat, and…" He glances over at you, "Whatever she wants."
"Vodka soda," You nod at the bartender, who pauses and looks at you for another second. Usually, your friends order the drinks for you so as not to get you thrown out but you’re putting on your best face of confidence.
"I think she asked you for a vodka soda," Hotchner repeats a little firmly as he holds out a black card. The bartender’s eyes shoot down to the card. He takes it and gives a small nod and smile your way.
"Thanks," You glance at him and pull the glass close to you. You can feel Professor Hotchner’s eyes on you as you pull it up and take a long sip.
He chuckles lightly and slides into the seat next to you, "Einstein?" He glances at you and you finally look up into his warm brown eyes.
"Uh yeah… it’s a nickname," You try not to maintain his eye contact for too long.
"Any particular origin story of it or…?"
"I’m the youngest in my friend group," You nod. "And probably the smartest."
"How modest of you," He teases.
"It’s just the truth."
"It’s cute," He laughs and looks down into his glass.
You attempt to remain icy towards him, "So do you buy every one of your students drinks or just the ones you hate the most."
"Who said I hate you?" He looks back over at you.
"Please," You roll your eyes at him.
"So I’m tough on you, doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I actually like you quite a lot," He replies honestly, leaning in closer, "You’re very bold in class. Always ready to correct your classmates when they’re wrong. Very… passionate," He glances down at your body quickly before looking back into your eyes.
"Professor Hotchner—" You start but he cuts you off.
"Hotch," He smiles and you glance over at him. Here, in this bar, he’s just about the most handsome, charming man you’ve ever met but all you can think about is the ruthless law professor who never lets you get a word in edgewise in class.
"Hotch," You start, but it feels wildly uncomfortable when you see the smile growing on his face as you do, "Look, sir, please don’t take this as disrespectful, but full transparency I’ve had a little bit too much to drink to be polite. You’re quite frustrating and confusing." He lets out a laugh at that and it catches you off guard, and not because he’s laughing but because it’s so unexpected. For such a mean, harsh, professor, his laugh is full of vibrancy.
"Are you laughing at me?" You furrow your brows.
"Sorry, but were you trying to be mean? " He teases, "Because it was very adorable."
Your face flushes again, "No I just… I think your actions are confusing."
"What actions?"
"Buying me this drink and flirting with me in this bar and embarrassing me in class." You huff out and start to stand.
"Well, you were extraordinarily late," He shrugs and you dig through your purse, before slamming down a 20 dollar bill in front of him.
"Thank you for the drink but good night," You reply angrily, before adding, "Sir." In fear of getting further on your professor’s bad side. You storm away, phishing through the crowds of people as you try to exit the bar. You take a few steps outside and look around, not quite sure why you bothered to storm out, knowing you have nowhere to go and your friends are still inside.
You shake your head and turn to go back in and that’s when you see Hotch exit the bar looking around for you. "Oh god," You groan softly.
"Like I said, very adorable when you’re angry." He teases you with a smirk, his hands shoved in his jean pockets.
You turn and try to walk down the street away from him, but again, realize you have nowhere to go and wandering around alone, and drunk, late at night out of anger is not the best decision. You stop a little bit away from him and turn to look at him. Just as you expect, he’s staring at you with that smug grin of his. He starts to walk towards you slowly, his eyes running up and down your body slowly. "Do I scare you?"
"No," You try to keep your posture confident and your voice firm but you stumble just a little bit as he draws closer to you and you attempt to move away. "Look, you can’t do this."
"Do I intimidate you?" He smirks and takes a few steps closer to you. As he moves closer and closer, you feel your heart thumping rapidly against your chest.
"No, but—" You pause, "You can’t bully me in class and then get flirty with me in a bar. It’s confusing and cruel—" At this point your back hits the brick wall of the club behind you.
Hotch moves in close, placing one hand flat against the wall right by your head. He cranes his neck down so his face is just inches away. You avert your eyes away, scared to look up into his, scared of what you might do. He places his fingers under your chin tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. Once your eyes meet his, you arch your back, bringing your face closer to his, "So you don’t want me to kiss you right now?"
He grins down at you and you find yourself leaning up towards his lips, "No," You let out breathily. You let your eyes flutter closed and arch even closer. You suck in a small breath as his calloused fingers run up your bare thigh, slip just under the hem of your dress.
You find yourself gripping his shirt tightly in your fist in an attempt to pull him closer. The moment seems to last forever, with your chest pressed against his warm, muscled chest. His fingertips rise higher and higher. He grips your thigh firmly in his large hands and pulls you completely flush against him, eliciting a small moan from you.
Just as you feel the slightest brush of his lips against yours you can feel a smirk spread across his face. "That’s what I thought." He grins and the warmth of his body that was just so close to yours disappears. As soon as you open your eyes, he’s already disappearing down the street and turning out of sight.
And you’re left standing in the cold, wondering what the fuck just happened.
Chapter 3: I.III →
#aaron hotchner#hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch x reader#wanna be yours fanfic
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Come to me
previous chapter. 1
PART 2 - next
Summary. After what happened in a relationship in the past, you found it difficult to trust someone with the gentleman image. 'Gentleman' seems like merely a concept and it was probably impossible for someone to be a genuine one. Now that you're stuck with the number one gentleman at campus for a group project, how would you cope with the one and only Joshua Hong?
Genre. College!au, non-idol!au / friends to lover
Pairing. Joshua x y/n x a little bit of S.Coups, and a sprinkle of Wonwoo
A few days later, you and your groups gathered again to discuss more for the project assignment. You and Joshua came early to a secluded spot in the library. You were worried if things were going to be awkward, but unexpectedly he was always the first one to talk to you. While waiting for Suhyun and Johnny, both of you managed to look over your schedule to find out which time should work without disturbing each other's activities. You almost dropped your jaw when you realized he almost always matched all gaps between classes, which was because you were in the same class most of the time yet you had no idea.
"I didn't know that we're in the same class like almost for all subjects," you uttered. Again, the mixed feelings of guilt, nervous and awkward made you unable to directly look at him.
He slightly smiled at your obliviousness. "Because you always sit in the front row and don't even bother to look around."
"Really?" You nervously faked a chuckle. Not even your friends had called you out like that despite what he said was actually true.
"But anyway, it's easier for us, don't you think?"
"That's right." Another nervous chuckle slipped out of your mouth. This was the time you vigorously typed a message to Johnny and Suhyun to come quickly. However you can't even be on your phone for too long since this guy literally kept talking to you, which you found it odd. This guy should hate you if he remembered the first encounter. Suddenly you were reminded of Johnny once saying one of Joshua's nickname that made him even more famous than just a 'gentleman'. The holy Jisoo.
Neither you did believe nor care about that. Sometimes you had to beg Johnny to stop talking about him as if there was nothing else to talk about. Now that you think about it, probably being forgiving could be one of the trait of 'the holy Jisoo'. But still, it was not that you care.
"Hey, now that we're classmates for almost every class, is it okay if I ask you to study together sometimes? Especially for Professor Kwon's class. I mean, I heard that even getting B from his class is already considered good."
"I know right. I don't even know why I take that class." Wait, does this mean I agree to study together with him? Wait, what?
"How about this weekend? We can finish this one quickly and proceed to discuss for other subject."
"This weekend is no good," you quickly answered. Secretly you were relieved you had other stuff to do. "Got essay due Monday and another group project assignment too before finals."
"Oh, okay. No problem. Which class though?"
"Professor Kim Jooyong it is. I believe you don't go to this class, right?"
"Yeah, no. But I think I know someone there."
"Yeah?" You raises both of your eyebrows, slightly showing curiosity.
"You know Jeon Wonwoo?"
An excited gasp slipped off before you spoke. "You're kidding! He's my partner for the group project."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, he's a life saver," you answered enthusiastically for the first time ever. "I take this class unintentionally. This guy thankfully makes it more bearable."
Without words, Joshua smiled. It was a different smile from earlier before the topic of Jeon Wonwoo arose. Of course, you wouldn't notice. The way you talked about Jeon Wonwoo definitely made him feel something. It just made him wonder if someone asked you about him, would you look that cheerful and excitedly say something good about being his classmate?
--- after hours working on the group project
"This doesn't look like we're able to finish any sooner. Should we continue tomorrow?" Suhyun stretched her arms and tilted her neck.
"You're right. I still have my essay to do," Johnny complained to himself. "I don't think I will sleep tonight."
"I told you you should have started as soon as Professor Jung gave it," you scoffed.
Suhyun and Johnny quickly packed their stuff and left. Meanwhile Joshua was a bit slow for unclear reasons. Basically he came the earliest and left the latest, which you found it odd. Again. Yes, you got a bit closer within such a short time when waiting for Johnny and Suhyun. But you still felt uncomfortable being with only him. And you can't confront him and ask 'what take you so long?', can you?
"Tomorrow we finish the class at 4, right?" Again, he was the one to break the silence when he was about to depart. "Want to continue our discussion tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure." This was a scenario which it would turn out weird if you say no. "Library?"
He paused. His face showed that he was thinking of something. "Sometimes it's crowded in the library. We got lucky today. Do you know a small cafe near the campus gym?"
"There's a cafe?"
"Yeah, it's not very popular. But it's quiet. I usually study there."
"Okay, sure. We can be more focused then," you said, nodding your head although you had no idea where the place he suggested. The last thing you wouldn't even want to imagine was this gentleman turned out to be a psycho who would abduct you in an unknown, quiet place at campus.
"Anyway, can I sit next to you tomorrow in class?"
Again, a scenario that would turn out more awkward than it already was if you say no. "Well, yeah, sure.." This dude must know that many people avoided sitting in front row seat, so your side was empty most of the time.
"Okay, cool. I'll see you tomorrow?" He flashed you a smile.
That was the first time you noticed the way he smiled. You had no idea he looked like that. Now you know why everyone always calls him a gentleman. That smile and the way he talks softly explained his nickname perfectly. That smile made you look away because suddenly you got too shy to look at him.
"Yeah. See you."
--- the next day
Joshua was right. The small cafe near the campus gym was quiet, as if it was located outside the campus. You wondered what makes this cafe underrated. Was it new that no one knew? Was it that secluded? Was it too far? Well, Joshua and you had to spend at least 10 minutes of walk from your building to this place. Honestly that was the most awkward walk you've ever had. You kept your distance, but he kept going closer every time you took a step away. You were nervous most of the time. You were really worried if he would try to do something funny you wouldn't even want to imagine. You actually had Johnny's number ready to be dialed if there was a sudden emergency.
"This place is not so bad, right?" As always, he started conversation while you prepared your notebook and laptop.
Flashing your smile with your best effort, you nodded.
"Oh! It's Shua!" An excited exclaim filled the quiet place. "And it's Park Y/n!"
"Seok-Soon, is that you?" You got excited too as two guys, a black haired one with a well-built tall body and the other one with dark blonde hair, paler skin and slimmer figure proceed to your seat. The three of you hugged and cheered loudly, happy to reunite again. "I miss you guys. What are you doing here, Soonyoung? Seokmin?"
"We should ask you the same." Seokmin broke your group hug.
Soonyoung darted his eyes to you, then to Joshua. "I didn't know you're close with Shua hyung," he said, flashing his hamster teeth.
"’Shua’?" you asked back in confusion. Soonyoung nodded, gesturing at Joshua with his head and his expressive eyes. That was a clear hint that the guys were close friends.
"I didn't know you guys know her." Joshua managed to stay calm, totally contrast with the rest of you.
"Yeah, we met during the orientation week," you explained happily without looking at him. Your attention was now fully on the other guys. Your linking arms with the Seok-Soon duo proved how close you were with them.
"And after that the class schedule always separates us," Soonyoung responded dramatically, faking a sniffle.
In Joshua's eyes, this was the brightest version of you and your smile. He noticed the drastic change of your expression when Soonyoung and Seokmin entered the cafe and called them. To him, you were like a chameleon. Your expression, the way you talk, and even your behavior kept changing as if you were adapting to who you were with. Soonyoung and Seokmin were famous to be the mood maker, they barely can keep quiet or stay still. You kept giggling at whatever they said since they joined your table, kinda forgetting that you were supposed to get your work done with Joshua. It didn't look like he minded though. In fact, he could use this time to quietly observe the new side of you. He remembered even when with Johnny, you never looked this cheerful and hyped up. No wonder you always became much more quiet when it was only him. Compared to Johnny, Soonyoung and Seokmin, he was indeed the calmest.
Soon, another guy came in. Soonyoung called his name and the new guy joined you immediately. With a big, mischievous smile, you stood up and bowed, singing his name, "Kim Mingyu sunbaenim."
"Oh, hi, Park hoobaenim." He raised a hand waving at you with his smug smiley face, trying to give more of the sunbae vibe, which always made you and the others almost lose it. "Long time no see," he spoke in English with his strong Korean accent.
Soonyoung and Seokmin still laughed at how you and Mingyu addressed each other, leaving Joshua puzzled by himself. Basically it was their inside jokes within the guys only, so it surprised him how you had any idea about it. It also confused him how you got to know his bestfriends.
"Mingyu repeated the history with Jeonghan hyung. He thought she was a freshman at the first day of school after spring break. So he was like, 'Oh, are you lost? Let me help. Oh, by the way, my name is Kim Mingyu. You can call me Mingyu sunbaenim.' when she was standing in front of Communication 101 class."
"She really looked like she was lost though?" Mingyu defended himself when the others recalled that dark memory.
You blended very well with the boys that it felt strangely nice for Joshua. It was kind of odd to feel alienated when the guys were his best friends, yet they seemed closer with you. But again, he didn't really mind that. It was just for him, to click with someone new was never easy. Moreover, his instinct could tell easily that you were not comfortable with him. That was why he always tried to speak first. Seeing you obviously close with his best buddies made him want to know more about you. Now he needed to boost his confidence to be more open up. Starting from you as a groupmate.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen au#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen joshua#joshua imagines#joshua x reader#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt au#kpop fanfiction#post by yourblinkies
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Day 1 - The Great Candy Cane Disaster
synopsis: Malfoy gets you in trouble so you decide to get back at him but things go a little too far
pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (if you squint)
Words: 2.6k+
A/n - We’re kicking off the first day of my advent calendar with something centered around Draco Malfoy.
Warnings - Swearing
"They look ridiculous," Malfoy muses as you add the final ingredient to your forgetfulness potion.
"They look fine," You roll your eyes, utterly fed up with the boy. Sometimes you wished he'd simply keep his comments to himself. "I wanted to look festive but I have to wear my uniform so antlers were the next best thing."
"They look stupid," He repeats. You adjust the reindeer antlers that sit upon your head like a silent protest.
"Will you just try the potion please?"
"No, why don't you do it?" He bites back, you swear he's being difficult on purpose just to get under your skin. When it came to potions class, you often found yourself paired with Malfoy. On the odd occasions, he was relatively helpful but sometimes he was the exact opposite.
"I did most of the work so you have to try it." You risk pushing the potion cauldron a little, watching the liquid inside almost swish over the edge; that would be the last thing you need in Snape's class.
"I do hope that amongst all this arguing, you managed to finish your potion." Snape's dull voice ringed in your ear."
"Of course Professor," Malfoy recites as professor Snape approaches your table. "she was just about to test it out."
You want to protest but you know better. It's probably just land you in trouble, so you reluctantly pick up a glass vile "fine," and plunge it into the orange potion. You take the smallest of sips. "So, Uh... what were we talking about again?"
"Next time, you two should refrain from shouting across my classroom"
"Yes Professor," you both reply.
"Five points from Gryffindor."
"Wait why?" You question quickly, brows furrowed.
"Careful now, or I'll make it ten." You can hear Malfoy's little snicker beside you as you watch Snape walk away to inspect somebody else's work.
By the time lunch came around, you were utterly fed up with the day. Slumping down at the Gryffindor table, you let out a dramatic sigh suggesting you wanted someone to ask what was wrong. Nobody did. So you sigh again.
"I can't believe you lost us house points," Hermione scolds as if she hasn't done it before. It wasn't a big deal. "why can't you be more responsible."
"You try being partners with Malfoy," you grumble, as you take a couple of sandwiches and place them on your plate. "And besides, Snape was totally unfair."
"Honestly, everyone knows Snape favours Slytherin so you have to be more careful." Hermione was right about that. It was clear Snape favoured his own house and was especially harsh when it came to Gryffindors. Why he hated you so much was unclear but it was something you had come to terms with.
"Gosh it was only ten points, it's not the end of the world Hermione." You take a bite of your sandwich. "Enough about that- I need your help."
"With what?" She asks, bringing her goblet of juice to her lips.
"Learning the duplication spell? It never seems to work for me."
"Why?"
You simply shrug. "If I knew why, I wouldn't ask for help,"
"No- I mean why do you want help with it? You never normally want to study outside of class."
You'd laugh if it wasn't true. Studying, for the most part, wasn't your favourite thing to do and much like Ron, you tended to avoid it as much as possible. You were by no means a bad student, just not as good as Hermione for example. "You're always telling me I should get ahead of my studies and not leave everything to the last minute, Hermione, I'm just trying to be a good student."
For a moment, you think she's seen through your lie but she just smiles a little before pushing her plate to the middle of the table.
"Fine. I have to head to the library and get a few books but I'll meet you in the common room later and we can go over it."
"Great," and with that Hermione leaves you with the boys to finish up lunch.
"So tell the truth then," Ron perks up, his mouth full of food.
"Huh?"
"We all know you're not suddenly a model student," he continues. "so why do you suddenly want help with a spell?"
"People can change, Ronald." Hermione always called him that.
"I don't believe that for a minute,"
"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "You once said you wouldn't be caught dead in the library. That doesn't sound like model student behaviour."
"Blasphemy," You state dramatically slapping your hand against the table.
Ron chuckles a little. "Tell us. We won't tell Hermione."
"Fine," You could trust them enough not to keep your secret; they'd proven that value before. "I want to enchant an object and give it to Malfoy."
"Hermione isn't going to like that you're using a spell to get back at Malfoy-" Ron warns with the most playful of smiles. "I can't wait to tell her."
"You just said you wouldn't," you huff, tossing a piece of bread in Ron's direction. "It's just a harmless prank."
"He's messing with you," Harry adds.
"Malfoy's leaving- I'll be right back," you jump up sharply. "Don't head back without me."
Charging over to the Slytherin table, you find Pansy just as she's finishing up. "Great, what do you want?"
"So volatile," you tease. "I need a favour."
"Ha! that's likely," Pansy Parkinson was not your friend. Everyone knew that. In fact, she actively chose to hate on you every moment she got. You liked to think it was just a complicated relationship with one of the biggest bullies in school.
"Can we... talk in private,"
Taking her arm, you drag her out of the great hall as she struggles in your grip. "What do you want?"
"A favour." You repeat. You need Pansy on board or your plan wouldn't work. You weren't close enough to Malfoy, nor did you have access to the Slytherin common room. Pansy did and she was not against breaking the rules.
"Tough luck," she spits, turning sharply on her heel but you reach out to grab her before she can leave.
"Please Pansy,"
"What's in it for me?"
Uh... you hadn't planned that far ahead. "My love and friendship?"
She chokes out a laugh. "Pass."
"Fine, I'll do whatever you want,"
"Whatever I want?" The was a degree of intrigue in her voice as she turned back around that made you worry about her upcoming demand.
"I mean... I'm not gonna like murder someone but you get the idea."
"Do all my Christmas break homework?"
"You can't be serious?" You got enough homework on an average day never mind during the holidays. It was like the professors deliberately didn't want you to have fun. "We've already been set like two essays and-"
"Take it or leave it," she interrupts, a malicious grin graced her beautiful features.
You groan loudly. You didn't really have much choice and she was holding all the cards here. "Fine- okay, I'll do al your homework."
"So, what do you want me to do then?" She wonders, pulling out of your grip.
"I need you to sneak me into the Slytherin common room."
"Is that all?" She raises a brow. "That's easy enough- When?"
"Couple days. I have to prepare first."
"Kay-" Without another word, Pansy turns on her heel and enters the great hall. Guess the conversation was over then. You may now be lumbered with way more homework than you cared to think about but at least she agreed. Heading back to the table, Ron is somehow still eating.
"What was that about?" Harry questions before you can even sit back down.
"Since when you and Parkinson friends?" Ron adds.
"We're not. I'm pretty sure she hates me." You shrug, finishing off your drink. "I needed her help but I had to wait until Malfoy wasn't around"
"Sounds like more effort than it's worth." Ron was more right then he would ever know.
"We should go. We have charms soon."
Classes were relatively easier towards the end of the year excluding any tests but the days still felt way too long. That evening you're sat on the floor beside the roaring reds and oranges of the fire. Hermione is sat across from you with a neat stack of papers and an array of books. Ron and Harry are chatting on the couch just within earshot.
"No offence, Hermione but why do I have to know the entire history of the spell to use it?"
"You wanted my help, didn't you?"
You sigh softly listening to her entire lecture with forged interest. When she's finally stopped telling you about the twins who created the spell, she placed a small leather-bound book on the floor between you; pulling out her wand. "Before you begin, you want to be sure of exactly how many copies you wish to make otherwise it can become uncontrollable," Hermione explains. "Only the caster can stop the uncontrollable duplication." Waving her wand she gently tapped the book. "Geminio." The book shook a little before splitting into two identical books side by side.
"And this spell works on anything?"
"To a degree. Keep in mind while they are identical, the other copy is considered worthless as after a while it'll start to degrade. So you give it a try,"
You pull out your wand and with a flick. "Geminio." Nothing happened. So you try again.
"juh-MIN-ee-oh," Hermione corrects your pronunciation slowly. "And don't flourish your wand so much. Just a smooth and simple flick," she readies her wand and flicks. "Geminio."
The book splits into another. Show off.
You flick your wand "Geminio." Again nothing happens.
"You're not very good at this," Ron teases from the side.
Hermione takes your wand hand in hers. "Let's try together, okay, ready?" You nod a little. Hermione guides your hand. "Geminio." You both say together and this time the book splits. You smile brightly.
"It worked!"
"Good job."
"Now I can put my plan in motion."
"What plan? I thought you just wanted help with your studies?"
"Oh- yes, that's what I meant." Her eyes narrow in and you offer an innocent smile. "Well, I'm off to bed- Good night."
It's a couple of days before you decide to finally get back at Malfoy. That time was mostly spent in classes and practising the spell. While everyone else is distracted having dinner, you follow Pansy through the halls of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons.
"So why are you doing this?" She asks but she doesn't sound too interested in an actual answer.
"Malfoy got me in trouble and I wish to share the Christmas spirit."
"By giving him... a candy cane?"
"Yeah," Your smile brightens. "Candy canes are the perfect Christmas treat. He has to be the one to touch it okay? No one else or it'll ruin it."
"Weird." She seems suspicious. "But fine. You're still doing all my homework."
"Yes. I know." You roll your eyes. Every time you've spoken to her in the past few days she's mentioned her homework. Stepping into the Slytherin common room felt weird; you don't know what you were expecting it to look like. You guess you just imagined them all to look the same but in different colours however, that was certainly not the case. It was... darker in here somewhat creepier.
"Then I'll make sure he's the one to get it."
"Promise?"
"Just leave before I call Snape."
"Alright, alright, Thanks for this."
Sneaking out the Slytherin common room, you head back to the great hall as if nothing had happened. Joining Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.
"Where have you been?" Hermione quickly asks and your mind draws a blank.
"Huh- oh! I wasn't hungry but now I am- So what did I miss?"
"Nothing really," Harry shrugs.
"Hermione was lecturing us," Ron follows up.
"Sounds about right," you chuckle.
It's hard to pay attention as you wait for Malfoy to finish his dinner. Staring intensely at the Slytherin table; only catching bits and pieces of the conversation happening around you. When you notice Malfoy leaving, you sit up a little straighter.
"What are you looking at?" Hermione clicks before your eyes, drawing your attention back.
"...nothing,"
"Do you fancy Malfoy or something?"
"What?" You turn to her, completely shocked and sort of offended. You and Malfoy would be a... weird combination to say the least. "No. Don't be silly."
"You have been staring at him since sitting down," Ron adds, a smirk on his lips. He knew exactly why you were distracted so his comment was just to rile you up.
"I don't fancy him- shut up." You growl back. "I'm heading back to the common room."
"I think I'll come too," Hermione stated, clearing up the almost none existent mess she had made. LI wanna do a little reading before bed."
You offer a small smile. If you say no, she'll be suspicious so you kind of just have to go along with it. Harry and Ron end up joining you. The halls are pretty empty as the four of you head back, it was still pretty early to be fair. You're idly chatting away to Hermione when you hear your name echo through the hallway. While taking note of it, you choose to ignore it and continue walking but then it happens again. Louder this time. You grab Hermione and Ron, by the wrists and pull them a little faster. "Hurry up,"
"What why?" Hermione protests pulling out of your grip.
"Because."
"Stop!" You know the voice belongs to Malfoy; it's hard to miss. When you finally turn around to look, you see him charging towards you looking very angry. "What can I do for you Malfoy?" You ask innocently, putting on your best smile but he doesn't stop. You back up until you're against a wall and he is standing before you. It doesn't seem like the time but still, you reach up and pull a candy cane that seems to be stuck to his best. "Didn't know you liked candy canes so much. Saving this one for later were we?"
He doesn't see the funny side. "I know it was you,"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Hermione defends, walking up behind him.
"Yeah shove off," Ron growls.
"You're not funny," the Slytherin snaps, taking a step back and taking your wrist. "You either come with me or I tell Snape that you filled the room with candy canes."
"How could I do that? I can't even get in the Slytherin common room."
"Your name was on the card."
"Is that why you wanted to learn the Geminio charm?" Busted.
"I used the Geminio spell on a candy cane so when Malfoy picked it up, they would start multiplying." You admit.
"We can't get it to stop."
"How is that my problem," you protest as he tries to drag you along with him.
"Did you remember to set an amount?"
"Uh... I knew I forgot something."
As much as you struggle you do end up going with Draco. He doesn’t say anything the entire way but his grip suggests that he's still very angry and as the door opens and some candy canes spill out, you realise you may have gone a little too far. You had originally expected a hundred copies or so but this was way more and they didn't seem to be stopping as they spilt out onto the corridor.
"Well... Shit. Probably should have brought Hermione with us."
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Predator/Carnivorous Dæmon Profiling: some of my long-winded thoughts
One of my biggest pet peeves in the dæmon community is the characterization of prey animals as being gentle/good, and predator animals being mean/bad. This is not an everybody-does-this kind of thing, by the way, but it crops up sometimes. It’s an easy trap to fall into (heck, I’ve done it before), and this isn’t an accusation towards people who personality-type this way. This is mostly to help A) newer or confused dæmons, B) start a discussion, and C) let me rant.
I think one of the largest hurdles when dealing with characterizing predator dæmons is working through what it means for a dæmon to be carnivorous. To best do this, let’s look at why some animals evolved to eat meat rather than plant matter. In the simplest terms, meat, and especially organ meat, are incredibly nutrient-rich compared to pretty much all plant matter. Herbivores spend the vast majority of their days foraging for food, eating that food, and then repeating the process. If you’ve ever had a pet like a goat, cow, or horse, you know how long they’ll spend grazing, if you let them. While herbivores expend comparatively little effort meeting their nutritional requirements, the payoff is also relatively low; that’s why they’re forced to spend so much time eating. Consider, then, that while herbivores trend towards low risk—low reward, carnivores trend towards moderate/high risk—high reward. When examined in this way, it’s easier to see that predatory/carnivorous dæmons are people who work based on efficiency above all else. While I noted the possibility of “high risk”, what carnivorous animals really want is to put in the least amount of effort for the highest amount of payoff. This is why they frequently target the old, the young, the sick, the weak, and the slow; if a carnivorous animal can avoid putting in excess effort, they will. Also, fun fact! Most herbivorous animals can and will eat meat if it is made available to them. They might not be able to eat much of it, but they can digest at least a little bit. It’s actually quite common for herbivores to eat meat (birds, rodents, frogs, lizards, even carrion), so if you want to put some kind of moral judgment dæmon-wise on carnivores because they eat other animals, it’s going to have to extend it to herbivores, too.
When it comes to profiling dæmons, I understand that a certain amount of anthropomorphizing animals is required to do so accurately. However, I think sometimes people in the dæmon community take this to the extreme. I do get it—when you’re anthropomorphizing one animal, you’re obviously going to anthropomorphize them all, so the circle of life previously untethered from morality comes out a little more murder-y. Here’s the thing though: there is no such thing as sadism in the animal kingdom. The closest thing I can think of is animals that envenomate their prey and then follow them until they die so they can eat them (like Komodo dragons), but even in those cases this is, again, a case of a predator using the lowest risk action to gain the highest reward. And like, I do get it. Animals dying is sad! It’s violent, and brutal, and often extremely bloody! We all feel bad for Bambi, but that isn’t very helpful when it comes to dæmon profiling.
I frequently see predators characterized as vicious, when what they actually are is vulnerable. Predators aren’t competitive over territory and breeding rights because it’s fun, they’re competitive because if they lose their territory they will likely die. Without a safe area for them to live and hunt, they will probably starve or be killed, so when predators act aggressively towards other animals or people, they’re usually doing so out of desperation. Predators in particular have to be extremely careful about what fights they pick; as a general rule, they want to avoid conflict. Serious injuries are a death sentence to predators in a way that they aren’t even to prey animals, because predators are on a ticking clock to heal fast enough that they can hunt again, or they’ll starve to death. If a lynx were to somehow break its leg, that’s it, that animal’s life is over, so if a predator is willing to actually fight over a resource, they’re doing so because they have no other choice. The general list of what predatory animals will fight over can usually be summed up as follows: breeding rights, cubs/babies (if they have them), food, territory. These are the essentials of the animal kingdom, so to speak. To put this into perspective for why this list matters in regard to dæmons, people with predator dæmons will not be constantly aggressive, or evil, or cruel. For the most part, predator dæmons are very conflict-adverse, and will only involve themselves if said conflict directly affects them and/or something that holds an extremely high value for them.
Now, that being said, most predators are also opportunists. A pack of wolves will go after a human like they would a deer because humans are, generally speaking, relatively easy to kill. While we may attach a moralistic perspective on that killing because as humans, we relate to said prey, these hypothetical wolves are just trying to meet their needs in the way that is the least strenuous and least likely to result in them being injured. This is a characteristic which often gets labeled selfishness—which I’m not denying that it can be—but which I think might be better labeled as individualism. I’ve seen people describing carnivorous dæmons as taking care of themselves at the expense of others, but often times what they’re referring to is an anthropomorphized approach to carnivorous behavior. I personally think this is a bit lazy and doesn’t get at the heart of what predator dæmons are like, because predator dæmons do invest in themselves above others (especially for animals that are lone hunters), but it isn’t because they kill other animals; it’s because, as I mentioned before, they’re inherently vulnerable. I’ve seen people refer to predator’s natural prey drive (such as tigers in zoos stalking patrons, or wolves overkilling livestock) as a sign that people with predatory dæmons are constantly looking to fuck someone else over, but the reality is that predatory animals (and therefore dæmons) are simply extremely aware of how vulnerable they are, and will take every occasion to meet their own needs, especially if that can happen without them needing to put themselves at risk.
So how do we translate this into dæmonism? Mostly with a lot of generalizations and patience. Generally speaking, carnivorous/predatory dæmons are conflict-averse, efficiency-based, need/interest-focused people. Despite the aggression stereotype, most predator dæmons just want to be left alone, and will likely only engage if they feel like or someone/something extremely important to them is being threatened (this is slightly less true for animal forms that are group hunters, as they have a wider support network to fall back on and can manage more risky behavior). Predators are also efficient animals, and dæmons of the same kind will reflect that. This means that people with predator dæmons won’t usually be inclined to expend effort unless they’re actively gaining something of high value from it. This doesn’t mean that people with predator dæmons can’t be active, it just means they aren’t likely to take on a challenge without a sufficient reward waiting for them at the end. Predators dæmons are also going to be need/interested-focused, which I tend to translate into predator dæmons having a few categories of things that are actively important to them; it might be their career, their family, their hobby, whatever. These categories tend to overlap, and become the main concerns for people with predator dæmons’ happiness. Everything outside of those specific concerns don’t matter overly much to people with predator dæmons. If something doesn’t directly affect a person with a predator dæmon, they probably don’t care. This is where the selfish characterization comes in, and while it isn’t wrong, I think it lacks the awareness that the downside to this blasé attitude predator dæmons carry towards things outside their interest is that, should that person lose any of the things they consider vital to their own life, they will experience a huge amount of upheaval and distress. This is what makes them vulnerable. A lion needs to eat, you know? And if a predator dæmon can’t feed themselves (metaphorically speaking), they’ll waste away. These three traits (conflict-aversity, efficiency, need/interest-focus) all tie into one another, and present a person who will likely only take on challenges in their own life if they can either do so without significant risk to their personal comfort, or see the potential reward as worth significant possible loss. So, it’s a somewhat contradictory personality that stems from wanting the best for the lowest price.
Just some disclaimers, since anyone who’s read this far deserves them! Not all predator dæmons are going to meet this personality type exactly. Predators higher on the food chain, and predators that hunt in groups are going to be more prone to risky behavior than lone hunters, and predators lower on the food chain, generally speaking. There are also outliers, as with any broad category (fisher cats have successfully killed lynxes, those little bastards do not fuck around). A lot of omnivores also get stuck in the carnivore/predator category, when they can, but don’t always follow the same personality type (some bears do, like black bears, but not all). So, while I hope this essay/rant helps people, I also hope that anyone who reads this understands that personality-typing dæmons is complex, so if you feel like this doesn’t apply to a form, don’t worry about it. Or, hey, reply to this and let me know. If anyone thinks I’m completely wrong, I’d also be curious about your take on predator/carnivorous dæmons.
#dæmons#absolutely nobody wanted this so that's why I had to write it#i love posting long rants that you all are now going to have to suffer scrowling past
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Yoongi x fem!reader pt4
genre: hurt/comfort/smut
rating: E
word count: 4,5k
summary: In this series, Yoongi and you are childhood friends, and he’s helping you through some issues you’ve been facing lately, while your relationship slowly blossoms into something more.
warnings: implied depression, self-critical thoughts, EXPLICIT SMUT (oral sex) in the later part of this chap. Start and finish are indicated
Can be read standalone, but is part of a chaptered series
Part I: Catalyze
Part II: Flicker
Part III: Rise
“...and yeah, that’s...why I haven’t been keeping up with my schoolwork.”
You finished the sentence with a timid glance at the curly-haired woman on the other side of the desk. Her hands were knitted on top of the table, one of her eyebrows slightly arched. You understood why. Answering the question “so what seems to be the issue here, Miss Y/LN ?” hadn’t been easy, and you were pretty sure it hadn’t made sense, either.
Basically, you had just stuttered some disjointed, vague gibberish about "feeling a little under the weather lately". Aka, nowhere close to the truth. And now, the anxiety was making itself known. In the form of beads of moisture running down your neck, and your hands fidgeting in your lap.
Because you didn’t want to be here. In fact you wanted to be anywhere but here.
But once again, Yoongi had showed himself perfectly able to push you into motion and help get you back on track. Using his steady, encouraging flow of reassurances, and fingers laced into yours as he pulled you with him to your final destination. And now you were here. Squirming uncomfortably in a chair in the university counselors office, and discussing why you had fallen behind on your studies, all entirely against your will if you were honest.
Your eyes wandered over the neat rows of folders on white shelves, the piles of documents on her desk, the sterile academic environment. Run, is what your brain told you. Just get up, walk out, escape this situation – but Yoongi’s hand, inconspicuously resting on your thigh, prevented it.
Because he’d insisted on coming with. And now he sat next to you, like a parent there to discuss his child’s progression. Clad in his usual uniform, black hoodie and snapback pulled far over his forehead, all in order to avoid being recognized. It worked, and you alone had the counselors undivided attention.
“So, if I understand correctly,” she started, pushing her half-moon glasses further up her nose. “You’ve been...feeling ill? That's why you’ve been absent?”
"Uhm...kind of..."
“I see here that you have a lot of overdue assignments...and you haven't attended classes...but it would be best if you book an appointment with the university healthcare, if you have a condition that interferes with your ability to study.”
Your ears heated up as you digested this information. A tiny, sober voice within you told you yes. Do it, open mouth, voice the issue. Another, more overpowering and toxic one told you no. Repeatedly, until it was basically chanting it like a whole firing squad in your brain.
“No, no, I don’t need to. I...uh, I’ll make sure to finish all the assignments, ma'am. Just been feeling a little...unwell, but, yeah. I’m fine.”
You ignored Yoongi’s pointed glare, along with his attempts to kick you in the shin under the desk. Your counselor expressed clear puzzlement over the sudden change in your narrative.
“Oh? But didn’t you say that you’ve been feeling down and experiencing difficulty with keeping up with your studies?”
“Uh...yeah but, it was just a temporary slump,” you lied, and accompanied it with the most convincing smile you could conjure. “I really am fine, and I will catch up on it. Promise.”
“Miss Y/LN...I really do think you should go see the healthcare unit.”
“No need, I’m fine, I’m absolutely –”
“She’s depressed.”
The sharp exclamation draped itself over the three of you, and the office fell silent. You slowly turned to your left, quiet anger flaring in your gut. And Yoongi, the bastard, was wearing a polite smile and blatantly ignoring your burning looks.
The perplexed-looking lady opposite you blinked about a million times in confusion, before clearing her throat.
“Is what your friend is saying true, Miss Y/LN? You've been feeling depressed?”
Your airways were blocked, by what felt like a thick bundle of dry cotton. You didn't get a word out. Yoongi decided to just nod in affirmation on your behalf.
"Yeah, yes, she’s...been down. Not left her apartment much and just slept and not eaten and...I think she needs to see someone.”
“Oh, oh dear...well, that sounds worrying indeed." The lady turned to you with a motherly smile. "I’ll book you an appointment to the healthcare center, Miss Y/LN. They can refer you to a mental health professional if there's a need for that...hold on a moment...”
She started tapping something on her computer, while she kept talking, but you didn’t focus on it much. You were forced to just listen and accept the documents shoved into your hands, with the appointment date and other information. Forced to nod affirmatively when she announced it would be next week.
Not like you were about to go. No way.
Once you were dismissed, you were fuming. You stormed out and over the university grounds, leaving Yoongi and the repeated stream of requests to slow down behind you.
“Y/N, fucking wait – jesus, can you wait!?"
He finally caught you, but you ripped your arm from his grip instantly, backing further away while spitting furious words in his face.
“No, I can’t! Why the hell did you have to tell her that, Yoongi?! You had no right to tell her I’m…”
You came to a screeching halt just as you were about to say it, and gathered yourself. Yoongi regarded you from a distance, his eyes like dark, tranquil oceans as usual.
Always so understanding, always compassionate. Even now when you wanted none of it.
“I’m not depressed. Everything is fine with me.”
You said it with steadfast conviction. Maybe, if you said it enough times, it would become true.
The wind rustled the leaves in the trees around you. It was actually a beautiful day. The warm rays of sunshine heated your back up, and Yoongi’s sympathetic smile was securely in place as always.
“Y/N...I had to. If you get to decide yourself you just dodge your issues and pretend they don't exist for all eternity. I can’t just stand by and witness it anymore, okay? Please just trust me. Everything isn’t fine with you.”
“Yeah it is,” you interjected stubbornly. You shook your head, shook it until nausea hit you and you just stumbled uselessly when trying to vocalize what you felt.
“It is, and I don’t want to go...it makes me feel sick. I don’t want to talk about it...I don’t want to be the person who has something wrong with them, Yoongi...I want to be normal.”
Your voice was suddenly saturated with hysteria and tears, and Yoongi was on you in an instant. Picking you up, just like he always did, collecting the pieces and patching you up again. You sobbed into his hoodie, and asked him, over and over again, why it was so hard.
“It’ll get easier,” Yoongi promised. He hugged you as you cried, while a warm breeze blew past and gently ruffled your hair and dried your cheeks. “It will. But not until you face it, hun.”
During the next few days, you spent a lot of time hunched over your laptop. Slogging your way through email after email, and doing your best to figure out exactly how far behind you were in your studies.
Really damn far turned out to be the answer.
You did his best to fix that, finishing up half-written essays and projects collecting dust on your hard drive until you were close to crying from the effort. All of this happened while Yoongi sat next to you, peering over your shoulder and making sure the process was moving forward. But it left you exhausted, and the list of assignments was mile-long.
“I’ll never have energy to finish all this...might as well drop out,” you whined, face buried in your hands, multiple times when it all felt too overwhelming. But Yoongi wasn't about to just accept that. Of course he wasn't.
“Nope, you sure as hell won’t,” was his stern reply to that. He was like an impenetrable wall you couldn't bulldoze your way through, and so you remained in front of the laptop, while his hawk eyes made sure your attention stayed on the screen.
Annoying. It was, but you had to admit it was effective. After many cups of espresso and bordering-on-meltdowns the list gradually shortened, and you were left slightly less stressed. But you’d transformed into a wet rag at the end of it, a wet rag that Yoongi transported to the couch and kissed and hugged and showered with compliments about how you were doing so well.
And it felt good, admittedly. Even though he must be lying through his teeth. His arms wrapped around you also felt great, and his gentle kisses made you all tingly – but that was the problem. He was too gentle. Too soft, like you were some kind of fragile flower to be handled with care.
Yet another week had passed since your almost-steamy-encounter on Yoongi’s couch. Another week’s worth of wet daydreams, of imagining the two of you in scenarios that stretched so much further than just kissing. Another week’s worth of not daring to make the first move.
Because without alcohol flowing through you, you remained much too shy and insecure, even though he was your boyfriend now.
The desire you felt for him made your blood pump faster, made your lower regions heat up. Every time Yoongi held you, every time he sat next to you with his elbows leaning on the table. Because you just wanted so badly for those veiny hands to undress you. To wrap around you. To travel further down and envelop you, all of you.
But at the same time, you were scared when imagining it.
Maybe Yoongi’s vision of you wouldn’t match the reality, the you hidden underneath the oversized sweaters and baggy sweatpants you’d worn for the past week. Maybe he would just see what you saw in the mirror.
Someone a little too gray and washed out, who didn’t get nearly enough sun and who lacked that rosy, healthy glow on their cheeks.
Maybe Yoongi’s feelings would even cool once he saw your body. Despite all the things he’d said for the past weeks about how you were gorgeous and beautiful and perfect.
The thought brought you close to tears.
You just felt like an illusion, about to crumble anytime now.
All of this messed things up, and soon you found yourself in bed. At 5PM on a Saturday evening. And all of Yoongi’s messages sat in your phone, unread and ignored since a good 24 hours.
You were pushing him away again, and it was just a matter of time until the doorbell would ring.
It did, like an ominous church bell ordering you to return to the land of the living. And you dragged yourself over the same damn floor, towards the same damn door, mentally preparing for yet another lecture by the same person you’d let down, again.
“Hey there, bun,” Yoongi greeted casually, leaning against the wall in the corridor when the door slid open. “What’s up? Ignoring my messages again?”
“Yes,” you confirmed dully. Unnecessary to pretend otherwise, and you were aware how wantonly snappy you sounded. Yoongi took absolutely zero notice of it. He looked stunning as ever, the dark hair slightly tousled by the wind and hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
Hands that still hadn’t touched you where you wanted them to and when would they?
You slammed the door with unnecessary force after Yoongi strode past you, causing him to turn around in surprise.
“Woah? Easy with that. Bad mood huh? Look kinda rough.”
“Yeah. I always look kinda rough, if you haven't noticed.”
“Hold it right there. Don’t twist it into something it’s not. I just meant you look a little tired.”
He gave you a sharp glance, a warning that clearly told you "don't even try to argue". You yielded, heaving unhappily.
“I’m sorry. I just...I wasn’t feeling well, and everything just felt shit, and...I couldn’t get out of it”
“Uhuh...that’s...kinda why you need some help, sweetie.”
“I don’t need help.”
You tried, but it was weak at this point. Yoongi closed in on you, raising a hand to cradle your cheek and sneaking the other one around the small of your back.
“Sorry to slap you with uncomfortable truths, but...yeah, you do. And I understand that your mood shifts and you want to be alone sometimes...but please don’t ignore my texts. You're making me sick with worry when you don't answer. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Alright, baby. So did you shower today?”
“No.”
“Eat?”
“No.”
“Y/N...that’s no good." He trapped you in a kiss, before separating you and giving you another look that left no room for arguing. "Come on. Go get showered or changed and whatever you need and let’s head to the shop.”
You huffed, turned and stomped off to your bedroom without a word.
Getting changed and going outdoors didn’t feel tempting at all. You dug through your closet, but once again there was nothing of use, because once again you'd failed to do the laundry. Because you’d been nestled in bed instead. And crawling into it again felt like a splendid idea now.
"How's it going over here?"
Yoongi had made an appearance in the doorway. He raised a critical eyebrow, skeptically eyeing the pajama shorts and coffee-stained t-shirt you were still wearing. You just stared blankly ahead, cross legged on the bed and not about to move another inch if you could avoid it.
"Badly. Have nothing to wear and I'm hideous."
You knew how that sounded, oh you knew. But you could do absolutely zilch to prevent it. Yoongi closed the distance between you, his gaze oddly dark, like a looming thunderstorm.
"Stop saying those things about yourself."
You bounced up, gurgling with unidentified frustration you just couldn’t seem to kick.
"No. Because it's true."
“It's really not. I understand it feels true to you. But you’re stuck with these ideas about yourself, because you’re seeing everything through a skewed lens. That makes you overly critical of yourself. Understand, baby?”
“Nope. You’re fucking wrong.”
Yoongi's finger on your mouth silenced you. He was right in front of you now, and he leaned in until his lips brushed over your ear.
"You're not hideous. Get that through your thick skull."
And then he pulled back, and kissed you. And it wasn't gentle. In fact it was everything but gentle. It was demanding, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and his fingers weaving themselves into your hair and his nails scraping over your scalp.
When you finally parted, your body was already in overdrive, your pulse crashing through your veins and your lower regions practically on fire and thumping almost painfully.
"Think it's about time I touched you, huh,” Yoongi pondered, eyes half-lidded and with his finger pressed down on your lower lip.
You just swallowed, whining something that sounded like "uhuh" in response. Yoongi's hands were all over you in an instant. He swung you around with your back facing him, and moved your hair out of the way so he could press feather light kisses down the junction of your neck. You were lost, to the unexpected shivers worming all over your skin, lost until you heard a request that made your knees weak.
"Is it okay if I take off your clothes?"
"Ye– yeah," you managed, without really thinking. There was just a split second of self-consciousness, and then your shirt was pulled over your head, your shorts hiked down – and you were bare, save for your underwear. You went rigid for a second, shielding yourself, but Yoongi untangled you quickly.
"Nah, none of that. Don’t do that. Let me see you."
He looped his own arms around your waist, and sprinkled kisses all over your exposed skin – your shoulders, your jawline, everywhere he could reach. And then, he spun both of you around. Facing the full length mirror, the one you’d been about to throw out so many times now.
"Look at yourself."
You looked. And looked away the next second. You saw yourself, the body you hadn’t studied for a while. You saw your skin illuminated by the lamplight, showing every little imperfection in unforgiving technicolor. And you saw Yoongi's toned arms blanketing you.
"Yeah, I'm looking. What's there to see? I'm, just...whatever. Just...meh."
"No. Not meh. Everything but meh. Stubborn, a little bratty, but definitely not meh."
He forked fingers into your hair, yanking you back to stress the fact.
"Or ugly. Or useless Or anything negative you want to imagine. I know you don’t see it yourself, but trust me, then. Can you do that?"
“Maybe.”
^^^^^^^^
You couldn’t, still – but you were coming undone, basically unable to speak, unable to do anything but succumb to Yoongi's voice and touch and tongue leaving goosebumps all over your skin.
Your breaths picked up as he unhooked your bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. You let out a pitchy whimper and dropped your gaze as he cupped your breasts. One by one, gently caressing them and rolling the pink buds between his fingers.
“Beautiful. Beautiful and mine,” he whispered into your hair.
He kept one hand loosely around your throat, while the other traveled down your spine – down, down down and all the way down. There, he gathered one of your asscheeks into his hand, squeezing possessively and pressing his own, very blatant boner against your ass.
“This too,” he purred cheekily, a little louder, and slapped it once, very lightly.
And you choked.
Well, nearly. Choked on the feeling of the pulsating, warm and very real body pushed up against you. It infused you with a craving that practically hurt, and you gasped in surprise when Yoongi’s hand snaked its way to your front, sliding down to part your thighs. He nibbled on your neck, while his fingers found your clit, lightly brushing over it and drawing moan after bated moan from you.
"You're hot, okay. I love your face, I love your body, I love your personality, you’re gorgeous and don't ever doubt that." Yoongi murmured, while stroking you through your underwear and holding you steady with his free hand. "I've wanted to fuck you for ages."
Oh shit. Okay. All you could do was whimper needily in response. The sinful confessions into your ear made your head spin violently – and that voice. Surely couldn’t belong to Yoongi – it was too husky, just oozing dominance – but it did. It did and it seeped right into every corner of you, into every cell of your body all the way into your fingertips and not least, your crotch.
And you felt like you might suffocate from the pressure. From Yoongi's fingers rubbing teasing circles all over you, his breath hot and wet against the nape of your neck.
"I want to see you too,” you whined, wrenching yourself loose and pawing desperately at his t-shirt.
"Sure thing, baby.”
You held your breath while his clothes were discarded. Shirt, jeans, briefs, and then he stood there, stripped in front of you. Not just a smudgy almost-Yoongi in one of your vivid dreams, but the real Yoongi. With a heinous twinkle playing in his mischievous eyes, his posture self-assured and his dick half-hard and smooth and...actually a little menacingly thick in girth.
You swallowed down the nervously flapping butterflies, and stepped forward, tentatively running hands all down his pale chest and around his back and his ass and absolutely everywhere.
You’d imagined this man naked so many times. All throughout your adolescence, and now that it finally happened, it felt like some trippy dream.
"God, you’re fucking...beautiful, Yoongi.”
"Says you.”
He grabbed you, kissing you and pressing the two of you together, with his hands firmly on your ass. And you heated up to scorching temperatures, while your brain was filled with only one thought.
“I want you.”
“Want you too. But we’re taking it slow.”
You grumbled, but he just briefly let his finger travel into your mouth, and smirked in response when you sucked on it like it was a lollipop. Then, you were hauled up and lowered onto the bed on your back, and turned into a shivering, whimpering wreck of a person. Yoongi kissed you, pushing his tongue in to drag it over the roof of your mouth, and continuing down your torso, your chest, your tummy until you shivered pleasantly underneath him.
He mumbled little words of praise at you while he went, and your breath came out shorter and shorter the further down he traveled. Soon he had to tell you to remember to even breathe.
“Relax. You’re so pretty, been wanting you for so long.”
He parted your legs gently, wrapping his hand around your thigh and sucking teasing love bites into the sensitive skin until you were almost crying from the sensation.
“Want me to touch you, baby? Can I take these off?”
You curled your spine against the sheets, desperate for him to just do it already. “Yeah – yeah. Please.”
"Good. Cause I'm really dying to."
Your panties slid off, finally, and Yoongi crawled between your legs, blinking up at you, dark eyes clouded with lust and tousled bangs falling into his forehead. All of you was practically vibrating, filled with electricity sprouting underneath the tips of his fingers as he rested one hand on your tummy and settled the other one between your legs.
“Look at you...already so wet for me.” He spread you with a thumb, sliding it between your lips, and you whined in response. Not like he was wrong. You’d basically been soaking wet since that first kiss. “So pretty. I want to make you feel good, hun. Can I eat you out? Do you want that?”
You nodded frantically. You could feel your release literally around the corner, and whatever Yoongi was about to do to you would lure it out at record speed. He offered you one of his gummy grins, gripping your thighs with both hands for leverage and pushed his pink tongue out, dragging it all over your clit and making you cringe against the sheets.
“God – Yoongi, holy shit-”
“You taste good. Fucking sexy as hell.”
You didn’t care about restraining yourself anymore. You allowed yourself to moan unabashedly while he sucked on your clit, and tantalized you by pushing his tongue into you and pulling it out the next second.
You hadn't been touched for so long, you hadn't come for so long . An eternity. And now you watched, eyes feverish, as Yoongi turned you into a slobbering mess in minutes. Your orgasm was close, and Yoongi must have felt it, because he quickly pulled back, lips glistening and cheeks flushed.
Next you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, and he threw you a quick, questioning glance and asked, voice hushed and dripping with lust, if it was okay. You hurried to nod again, crying out when he pushed a finger into you, slowly gliding over your walls and filling you up, while his thumb rubbed against your clit. Settling on his knees, he threw one of your legs up and squeezed your thigh as he started finger-fucking you, slowly but surely.
You couldn’t help but wonder, amidst all the hazy pleasure, how the hell he was that skilled with his hands.
Probably because he was experienced. You knew he’d had kind-of-girlfriends, but maybe he'd even had multiple partners. That thought made you irrationally jealous, once again, and also worried you’d appear like a rookie in comparison.
But those thoughts were quickly washed away, for now, as Yoongi hit the spot again, and a pitchy whimper escaped you, echoing through the whole bedroom.
“You’re tight,” he hummed, gaze heavy on you. “How’s that? Feels good?”
“Y– yeah...feels great…”
Your neck cringed, your hands gripping the sheets as he picked up the pace, before adding a second finger. Soon he had two of them knuckle-deep in you, fucking you while working your clit while you squirmed against him to create even more friction. You watched him, his lustful dark eyes plastered on you, the veins in his arms tensing as he brought you closer and closer.
"Yoongi...I'm gonna...c-come...if you keep doing that–"
"Well that's the goal, right? You're moaning so prettily, turning me wild," Yoongi teased, leaning forward. He positioned himself half-laying on top of you, so he was able to reach your quivering lips while his fingers slid in and out of you.
He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel his cock poking you in the side. You glanced down. There it was, all stiff and veiny and fully erect and – damn.
Yoongi wanted to fuck you with that.
You pictured it, and then you were done for.
"Coming?"
"Uhuh..."
"Go on, baby girl.”
Well. That did it. You shuddered your way through your release, spasming against Yoongi’s fingers and crying out a lewd and elongated “fuck” as you came. You faintly heard Yoongi mumbling something as you rode it out, and then you collapsed into the mattress. Completely drained, and with your chest heaving and droplets of sweat running down your neck.
^^^^^^^^
Yoongi pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and withdrew his hand. "You okay, pumpkin?"
You nodded wordlessly, slow waves of pleasure still rippling through you. Yoongi sneaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against himself and squeezing you tightly.
"See why I wanted to take it slow now? Yikes...you look like you just finished a marathon. Didn't take you very long.”
He nuzzled into your hair, and you weren’t even able to provide anything coherent in response yet. Soon he announced he was taking you to shower, and before you could protest you’d been scooped up and carried off, bridal-style.
The shower was turned on, and you were dazed when jostled into position underneath the spray of water. It splashed down between the two of you, heating you up as you rested your head against Yoongi’s chest, just enjoying the warmth and being so close to him for now.
He pushed strands of soaked hair out of your forehead, and propped you up more securely when you were in danger of sagging to the floor. "Are you alright, sweetness?”
“Yeah...sorry, it’s been a while since I, uh…was...touched...”
You quietened, bashfully pushing your nose against his chest again to avoid meeting his eyes. He gave a little chuckle, and ran his hands all over your back in reassuring circles.
“Yeah, I figured. That’s okay. Just take it easy, baby. I’ll take care of you, don't worry.”
Yoongi gathered you into his arms, and your throbbing muscles were soothed by the flow of hot water. But you also felt a rigid boner poking your thigh, still. Belonging to him.
You peeked down at it. It was a little intimidating, but you were also eager to return the favor. Even though your tummy turned into slush at the thought of doing something wrong.
You swallowed down a lump, and Yoongi noticed your hesitance.
“Y/N. Just relax.”
"You're still hard though, I can –"
"Yeah, duh, I'm hard,” Yoongi chuckled, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips to shut you up. “...cause that was hot,” he added, and your cheeks instantly turned tomato-red.
"But we got all the time in the world. I can wait. You're the most important, bun."
"Fine, ugh...okay."
You burrowed into his chest, letting out a soft moan when he squeezed some shampoo out and started massaging it into your scalp. Yep. You could definitely see yourself getting used to this.
#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts fanfiction#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#bts self insert#min yoongi#bts fluff#bts angst#bts romance#bts au#bts reader insert#yoongi scenarios#bts si#bts x reader
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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 8
PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
Chapter 8 - The Potions Hero
Penny
It was about a month before we would have to take our first-ever final exams. I was so excited as I was good all year, did all my homework plus some extra credit work in Potions, of course, and I just couldn't help to feel prepared.
Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for my friends who were oblivious to the fact that the final exams were coming. I have been warning them for about 2 weeks now but the replies I got back, made me think that they were going to be in big trouble if I don't nag them even further.
“Oh, come off it Penny, we still have plenty of time.” Tonks said to me one morning as I tried to slip the final exams into our conversation as we were meeting our friends for breakfast in the Great Hall.
“Penny, you are overreacting.” Tulip rolled her eyes over dinner the next day. “We have plenty of time and besides we are not doing so horrible at school that we ought to be worried about exams! How much harder than a few essays can they be?” She sounded really confident.
Charlie and Nova gave me the most trouble as I could hardly catch them as they spent more and more time outside. Nova kept relying on my notes more and more and when I heard that they are thinking of skipping a History of Magic lesson to go to Hagrid's I flipped.
You should have seen the look on their faces when the whole Courtyard turned in our direction as I was practically yelling at them that they simply can't be that irresponsible.
Nova's mouth was open and I could see guilt in her eyes and Charlie blushed so much that he looked like a tomato with red hair.
After I've threatened them that I will not lend them my notes for the final exams, they finally started to listen to me and now I take every opportunity we spent together as a group to remind them of the exams.
—
One morning, when I woke up and Tonks' bed was already empty and nobody was outside the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance and nobody was at the Courtyard or in the Great Hall, I was beginning to think that they have started avoiding me for nagging them so much.
Then an idea came to my mind that was almost impossible to believe. Could they be in the Library? I thought incredulously. I grabbed a quick bite in the Great Hall and hurried to the Library.
I've made sure to be as quiet as possible entering as Madam Pince would have my head if I spoke a word too loud. I looked around and at first thought that they weren't there after all. But then I spotted 2 redheads at the table in the far back. Charlie and Tulip were sitting with Nova and Tonks. They were all facing the bookshelves, their heads stuck together.
For a moment I felt proud as I thought they were finally studying but as I got closer...
“Okay, so what's the plan?” I heard Tonks whisper to the best of her ability.
“I reckon we should just ask her nicely.” Nova said, scratching her head.
“Are you mental, did you forget how she yelled at us in the Courtyard for being irresponsible wanting to skip History of Magic that one time, because I haven't? Her voice is still haunting me at night.” Charlie's voice shook a little.
“Well, what else can we do? It's not like we can force her?” Tulip said and gasped as if she couldn't believe what she just said.
“We can try!” Tonks already warmed up to the idea.
“Tonks, don't be ridiculous! Penny is our friend.”
“Shhhh!” Madam Pince shushed them as Charlie said the last sentence a little too loud for her taste.
“I am confident that if we apologize to her and ask her nicely, she would love to help us.” Nova felt confident.
“Hi guys, what are we whispering about?” I decided to play a little joke on them and stuck my head next to Tulip's who was on the left side of the head-sticking group.
“Ahhh!” There was a loud bang as they all jumped up and Tonks hit her knee at the table, their hands on their chests as I scared the living ghosts out of them.
I had to put both hands over my mouth not to laugh too loudly but it was in vain as Madam Pince was next to our table so quickly as if she has apparated.
“You either leave right now using your legs,” she glared at every single one of us, whispering, “or I will drag you out by your loud mouths.” She crossed her hands on her chest and pointed her long finger to the door.
I followed the lot to the Courtyard, them looking quite embarrassed but for me, this was the pranks I wanted to pull on people, not the ones Tulip, Tonks and Jae usually had in mind. Mine at least won't get us to lose House Points.
Tulip, Tonks, and I sat on the bench while Charlie and Nova sat on the ground in front of us.
“Soooo,” Tonks looked as if she swallowed a chili pepper, “how much have you heard?”
“You are planning something that might or might not be forced upon me.” I giggled, still amused, their faces frightened.
“Well,” started Nova, while scratching the back of her head. I bet she got that from Charlie, as he did it every time he was too shy to say something, “it has dawned on us that the final exams are approaching.”
“Oh, really?” I responded in a sarcastic tone.
“And we were,” Charlie continued, doing the same scratching motion as Nova, “we were wondering if you could help us study for our Potions exam?” He said as quickly as his tongue allowed him.
“Just for the Potions exam?” I was skepticalabout that.
“Yeah, we were talking and we are doing pretty good with Herbology. We are already doomed in History of Magic as even you haven't been taking notes. Nova will help us with Transfiguration and Charms, while Charlie helps us with Flying and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I will lend everybody my notes and hand when it comes to Astronomy.” Tulip revealed their plan.
“So you have all been studying?” I couldn't believe that they actually had a plan.
“Of course, we have, Penny!” Charlie exclaimed. “You've nagged us so much that we didn't have a choice, now did we.” He chuckled.
“As much as we don't want to admit it, we do care for school and our exams, Penny.” Tonks grinned.
“Tonks and I have been studying Herbology and Astronomy in the Kitchens for the past week.” Said Tulip proudly.
“That's what you've been doing in the Kitchens?” I couldn't help but be startled.
“Mischief isn't the only thing we do, you know.” Tonks sounded offended.
“Yeah and Hagrid has been helping Nova and I study for the Defence Against the Dark Arts. We studied so many beasts this year and he knows so much about them. That's why we were planning to go to Hagrid's the day you yelled at us at this exact place.” Charlie pointed a finger behind him to the middle of the Courtyard.
“You weren't going to go to Hagrid's to ask him again if he can take you into the Forest?” I asked incredulously.
“Nah, we gave up on that. It's almost the end of the year and he did promise to do it once we are in our Second Year so we decided to give it a rest. Make him forget about it a little.” Nova grinned.
“Sure!” Tonks and Tulip replied at the same time, giggling.
“Wow, I didn't think you were taking me so seriously.” My hand on my mouth as I couldn't help but be astonished at their achievements. “You even wanted to skip a class to study for another class.” I extended my arms at Nova and Charlie, proudly.
“We got your hint, Penny.” Chuckled Tulip.
“So will you help us study Potions?” Asked Tonks, now all 4 of them looking at me like Fang when he wanted scratches.
“Of course I will help you study!” I exclaimed. “I would help you lot even if you didn't start yet.” I admitted and they squeezed me into a tight hug.
We decided that we would start the next day and I stayed up all night to make them each notes on the most important things that I was confident are going to be on the exam. I also made them sheets that would help them remember potion ingredients and their most common uses. As for myself, I've made a plan what I would teach them, how, and where.
Obviously, Madam Pince wouldn't let us in the Library all together probably until the next year. So, in the morning when we all met for breakfast and I gave them everything I've prepared for them, we decided that staying at one of the tables in the Great Hall was going to be our best option.
After a few days, Nova and Tulip were doing the best. Nova had all the potion ingredients for all 3 major potions we worked on this year memorized. Tulip exceeded my expectations as she gave me not 7 but 8 reasons why Firecrab cauldrons are not as important as one might think. As much as Tonks was trying she still couldn't memorize the right ingredient sequence for the Sleeping Draught and Charlie was struggling to understand why do we need 5 reasons why a potion has to be stirred in a specific direction and why the other way around could be very harmful.
—
Later that week we got our Final Exam Schedule.
I've read it aloud:
“Monday – morning Charms theoretical exam, afternoon Charms individual practical exam
Tuesday – morning Herbology exam, afternoon History of Magic exam
Wednesday – morning Flying practical exam, midnight Astronomy practical exam
Thursday – no exams
Friday – morning Potions theoretical exam, afternoon Potions practical exam
Monday – morning Defense Against the Dark Arts theoretical exam, afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts individual practical exam
Tuesday – morning Transfiguration theoretical exam, afternoon Transfiguration practical exam”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam?” Repeated Charlie. “We didn't even do any practical spell work in class!” He felt offended.
“I guess Rakepick assumed we would learn them on our own.” Nova shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, to be honest, we did learn some of the same spells in Charms, haven't we.” I thought out loud.
“I guess.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “It's nice to know that we have until Friday to study Potions, though.” His mood recovered.
—
I have to say that I was very proud of every single one of my friends as they were all fairly prepared for their Potions exam on Thursday night. We did have to shake Tulip awake a couple of times when her eyes started to shut as she was repeating different kinds of cauldrons in her head.
Of course, our study group didn't go unnoticed and by Wednesday afternoon Murphy, Jae, and Andre, who stopped to talk to Tulip and Nova as he was a Ravenclaw, joined.
On Friday, nobody except me and Charlie, who was obviously a nervous eater, ate breakfast as others rather nibbled on their nails, lips, or mumbled words to themselves as they were revising before the hardly anticipating Potions exam.
Nobody wanted to talk about the theoretical part, they saw it as a waste of time as they wanted to prepare themselves for the practical part of the exam. I was leaning on my hand in the Great Hall, looking at them as I was listening to their murmurs, counting on fingers, and rubbing the sides of their foreheads. I knew I had amazing and smart friends but I couldn't help but smile as I was so proud of how much effort they actually put into their least favorite subject.
#harry potter hogwarts mystery#hp#harry potter fanfiction#hphm mc#harry potter hogwarts game#hp hogwarts mystery#hphm charlie#charlie weasley#charlie weasley fanfiction#hphm#hogwarts mystery mc#the weasleys#hphm tonks#hphm fandom#hphm au#hphm characters#hphm fanfiction#hphm tulip#hphm penny#bill weasley#weasley family#weasley fanfiction#ron weasley
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