#I have never seen a game where ALL our points were scored by the same player

[ehghtyseven]

george ford 27 - 10 argentina

give him absolutely anything he wants

[accirax]

Disventure Camp All Stars Power Ranking (Round 12)

Well, I can already tell that this is going to be a SUPER episode! (Also, @venus-is-thinking is finally caught up and is joining me this week, so make sure to check her rankings out too if you enjoy mine!)

In case you haven't seen my previous power rankings ( 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11), the Power Ranking Format is essentially a way of ranking how well each player is doing in the game. So, in essence, this is a long form way of predicting who I think will be eliminated from the competition in the next episode. There will be spoilers for last week's episode (obviously) and its power ranking, so make sure to read that first if you don't want to be spoiled on how I ranked our last boot. If you want more clarification on the rules, that first post will help you out as well. Furthermore, I'm going to be spoiling the preview for next episode, so if you want to go in TOTALLY blind, save this for later. Let's go!

Recap - Tom's Elimination

Current Score: 49 acquired/73 total

HOW THE FUCK DID YUL NOT GO HOME?????

Anyways.

The fans have been rooting for a Tom/Jake/Aiden elimination for a while now, and I think it will be beneficial for the show moving forward to not have all three of them in the heroes' cast. I'd still probably call myself a Tom fan overall, but... goddamn did this guy make it hard to like him sometimes. Between the three of them, I think I baseline like Aiden the most, and I think Jake has the most potential, so I'm glad it was Tom of the three of them. I also got a whopping 8 points from him, so haha >:D

(I was SO worried about my score if Gabby had gone home... I still don't really understand why they targeted her in the first place, but, no matter.)

It's really weird to finally have more S2 characters than S1 characters given how the season started, though. I guess these guys are finally getting their time in the spotlight.

Trailer Analysis

IT'S TIME FOR ANOTHER THEMED EPISODE!!!

Therapy from Nina? This will be interesting...

Alec will get #whitegirlwasted at his reward. I know he's neither white nor a girl, but it's the vibes that count.

THE INTERVIEW ROOM??? Is Emily back?! :D

Quirk analysis time! I very much assume that this will be in the same simulation program that presented the zombie apocalypse challenge in S1, although this time, it seems participants will be aware of it ahead of time. Yul appears to have lightning powers, and possibly the ability to teleport, although that's very likely just him spawning into the program for the first time.

Riya's repping the fire nation.

Aiden has super speed and a great expression. The fact that this is his power is part of what makes me thinks Yul won't be able to teleport.

We "don't see any scenes of Connor using his powers"* (I'll come back to this later), but we do have a suit design for him. The gray color and geometric shapes make me think he could have some sort of earthbending-like ability?

Grett appears to be the water to Riya's fire. Do all of the former Yellow team members have elemental abilities? That could fit if Connor is earth, and Alec is air.

Gabby can turn into an eagle at least, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was just animal shapeshifting in general. Very fitting ability for her.

Another fitting power, because Jake is really fruity--

(I really hope he can only manipulate bananas instead of having telekinesis in general.)

Ally has stretchy powers, representing how she's carrying all of the other characters on her back. (/j) I would say that this scene is an argument against Connor being able to move rocks, though, because then it seems like he would have made a bridge.

These could be random creatures on the island, but I wouldn't be surprised if one or both were actually Gabby.

Beyond being hilarious, this is where we come back to that asterisk from earlier! I think this scene could be evidence of Connor having super strength as his power. That seems fitting with his character.

"And you never will...!"

Riya's definitely showing off her fire abilities here. My guess is that this could be in response to Connor trying to "get under her skin" (AKA genuinely help her) again. Riya would see that as a threat to her game, or possibly just to her winning immunity this episode.

Another really weird thing to note is that we don't see Alec's superpower in this trailer at all? The team seems pretty cavalier about showing off what everyone's abilities were, so I doubt they're concealing it for spoilers' sake. Here are a couple of my theories on that:

Alec gets so intoxicated before the challenge that he can't compete/gets eliminated instantly.

Alec is actually the dinosaur/kaiju that I mentioned earlier could be Gabby. However, I don't know if they would really want to make two different competitors' abilities "going beast mode."

Alec's power is invisibility. He could even be whatever Riya hears in the bushes and starts to throw a fireball at in that one scene. I think I like this theory the most, because invisibility matches Alec's cunning well.

Power Ranking

#1: Grett

I don't think I need to repeat my same argument again. Who is targeting Grett? There are far more problematic villains to target, from both the heroes' perspective and the villains'. We also know from last episode that, when Ally, Aiden, Connor, and Jake (and Tom) had the choice to vote for Gabby, Grett, or Yul, they chose to vote for Gabby. That makes me think that Grett is in less danger than Gabby at least.

Then there's all the stuff about Grett's character arc and how it would feel weird to eliminate her before Yul at this point... But, hey, didn't I say that I wasn't going to waste my time repeating myself? I would be incredibly surprised if Grett were ousted this episode.

#2: Ally

I have to admit, Ally's placement here is mostly a meta read as opposed to actual character dynamic analysis. Simply put, she's (currently) the only female hero left in the game. If Ally were eliminated now, it would leave Aiden, Connor, and Jake as the only heroes, which would just feel... weird. She also hasn't done a lot in the last couple of episodes, which would make the villains targeting her feel pretty random.

There's also that fake alliance that Riya attempted to set up with Ally last episode. Despite me arguing that Riya should actually be trying to set up Alec-less endgame options, it seems that Riya isn't actually intending on working with Ally at all at this point. Still, if Riya at least intends on keeping up the illusion of forming a women's alliance with Ally, she probably wouldn't be the one pitching Ally's name to an otherwise seemingly disinterested group.

There is still the argument that Ally doesn't seem to have a lot going on right now, so you could say that having her unfruitfully taking up space as an actual competitor would be worse than suffering one episode of a mediocre elimination. However, it seems like Ally and Connor will be spending a lot of time together in this episode, so I'm hopeful that the writers will capitalize off of the brief bond that Ally and Connor formed in S2 to create a new relationship for her to bounce off of in upcoming episodes. Well... assuming that both of them make it through this elimination, anyways.

#3: Jake

I can't really tell if Tom getting axed makes it more or less likely that Jake would be going home soon. On one hand, now that the TomJake plot is "over," Jake theoretically has fewer plotlines to justify his continued inclusion in the story. He made enough progress in his character arc of becoming a better, less paranoid person that he could exit the competition on a good note at this point. The writers may also want Tom and Jake to both be eliminated at the time of the fabled Loser's Motel episode so that we can wrap up their story with a heart-to-heart conversation.

However, with Tom gone, Jake also gains more opportunities to explore plotlines on his own, like his growing friendship(?) with Aiden. He has made progress in his character arc, but there's still a ways to go if his former backpedaling foreshadows anything. And, well... even if that Loser's Motel thing is true, they might want to eliminate Jake closer to when it would actually happen, so that they don't have to explain why Tom and Jake wouldn't have talked to each other for the entire time period before the episode takes place. (Venus theorized that the Motel episode will take place pretty close to the end of the season so that they can have as many characters in it as possible. That made sense to me, so I'm sticking with it.)

At the end of the day, Jake winds up pretty high because I overall think it's more likely that a villain will go home than a hero, and I think that the villains have two heroes that they're more likely to target than Jake. The votes simply don't seem to be there, in my opinion. Also, he still gives me some winner vibes, no matter how bananas that may sound to some.

#4: Aiden

Yeah, I know. I talk some big talk about there being two heroes that the villains are more likely to target than Jake, and then I put one of them directly below him. But, look, one point in ranking differences is a huge gulf at this point! And I do think that the villains are more likely to target Aiden than Jake, I'm just not convinced that it would actually go through.

Aiden still has a lot of enemies in the villains alliance. Even if Gabby confirmed last episode that she doesn't really have it out for Tom or Aiden anymore, Riya and Yul still dislike him. If there's some reason why they aren't allowed to target Connor this episode-- such as, if Connor wins immunity-- I imagine Aiden would be their most likely backup plan. And, if the heroes can't manage to do anything to split the villains up at this point, they have the majority, and Aiden is gone.

That possibility relies on a lot of contingents, though, and is overall pretty unlikely. Still, it's not like I would be stunned if it happened. I don't really think that Aiden is going to be a finalist again, so, if that's true, he's gotta go home at some point or another. It could be now! However, there are more compelling reasons for me to think that others might be eliminated, so I'm sticking Aiden here.

#5: Gabby

Trust me, I want to put Gabby higher. But, after last week's scare, I'm afraid that I have the wrong read on the group's dynamics. Clearly, the heroes thought there was something to worry about with Gabby, and she got a whopping five votes last episode. Being that close to elimination can't bode well for her odds in this round.

However, now that the heroes are down in numbers, it seems like it'd be a lot more difficult for them to actually manage to eliminate Gabby. This is because, now, they'd have to convince one of the villains to vote for Gabby with them. I can't imagine that Alec or Riya would be down for that for strategy reasons, and, despite Grett's complaints, I do think that she would struggle to vote Gabby out after all Gabby has tried to do to help her.

Really, their only option is Yul, but I do think that's possible. If Yul hears wind from Riya that Gabby wanted to flip on the alliance and vote him out, he could panic and decide to work with the heroes to vote out the biggest threat to his game. If that did happen, it could be the final nail in the coffin for Grett, who could work with the (still) four remaining heroes to eliminate Yul next time. You know. Because Yul's elimination seems to be a next time issue.

However, that fringe scenario would require the heroes to actually choose to work with Yul to vote out Gabby instead of working with Gabby to vote out Yul. Even if Gabby wouldn't have heard of that plan on her own, the heroes could always pitch that vote back to her, and she would presumably agree. That would be good for their games, because a vote would further cement Gabby with their alliance moving forward.

Wait, I'm not supposed to be writing about why Yul would go home! This is about Gabby being eliminated! I do definitely think it's possible. But, there are flaws with the premise as well. Thus, she winds up in the middle. That's what happens when half of me wants to put her higher, and half lower.

#6: Connor

I mean, what am I supposed to do in the face of the villains alliance directly saying last episode that Connor would be in trouble as soon as he didn't have immunity? Assuming that he doesn't win immunity again this episode, I find it incredibly likely that the villains' plan will be to throw all five of their votes on Connor. And, if everything goes according to plan, he would be eliminated. But... will it go to plan?

Yes, Connor has had one episode back in the game at this point to do things. And, do things he did! His motivational speech got all of the heroes to finally put their personal agendas aside and work as a team. Even if they lost the tiebreaker competition, that was a big step. Connor had an impact. He could be voted out.

Except, having your returning competitor be back for two episodes, only surviving the one because the host gave him immunity, is still pretty lame. It feels like we're on the precipice of a villains loss, which would be the perfect excuse timing for keeping Connor in the game for a little bit longer, even without immunity.

My internal feelings say that Connor wouldn't be voted out so soon, but, I've certainly been wrong before, so I'm trying not to rely too hard on gut instinct. Unless he has immunity, there probably will be votes headed his way. It's just a question of whether there'll be enough of them to knock Connor down.

#7: Alec

Alec... I really don't know. He's such a threat. He has too much power! People have to be coming for him at some point. He wouldn't win immunity again now... could he? What is this man doing?!

I can't help but feel like we're reaching the point where Alec's game takes a turn for the worse. The fact that he seemingly gets drunk at the reward bodes poorly for him, in my opinion. He's in control, and he's getting sloppy. He could even make a mistake directly as a result of him being drunk/hungover, like accidentally revealing too much of his true opinions. Opinions about what? Not liking Yul? Actually liking Riya? I can't say, but it could stir up trouble with the villains for the future.

Still, even if Alec will be in trouble soon, would it really result in his elimination now? Well, maybe. I maintain that if the heroes could eliminate anyone of their choosing, they should pick Alec. The issue is, he does seem pretty well insulated within the villains alliance, so getting Grett, Gabby, Yul, or Riya to flip on him could be tricky. Honestly, despite all my praise for their friendship, I feel like Riya could be the best choice. After all, she would be the most likely to realize the true threat that he poses.

Here's a classic Accirax Crack Theory: Maybe Alec does have the power of invisibility in this episode, but, not being able to see him, the other competitors assume that he was too hungover to compete, or that someone else eliminated him without their noticing. At the end of the challenge, someone will believe that they've won, only for Alec to sneak attack them and steal immunity from right under their nose. While he celebrates his third straight victory, Riya will have a sobering moment realizing Alec's ability to sneak, deceive, and win challenges. It plants the seed in her mind that she needs to get Alec out sooner rather than later, especially because the friendship she's been building with him (showcased in this episode with the reward) has been keeping her from seeing him as a threat. That's dangerous. He needs to go.

Now, you may have noticed that that Accirax Crack Theory does not actually support Alec going home in this episode, because he would have immunity again. Yet, I still have him at #7. Oops. Well, it's because, even if that theory isn't exactly right, parts of its logic could still be used to justify an Alec boot. Maybe that exact thing is about to happen, except Alec's sneak attack doesn't succeed. Maybe it's just that sloppy gameplay that causes Riya to panic and seek out that "fake" alliance she built with Ally.

I don't, like... really think that Alec is going home this episode, but there's still enough going against him that I feel okay putting him down here. There are still obvious reasons why Alec would go home, even if the votes aren't necessarily there. Although, hell, if the villains are split between voting Gabby and Yul (like Yul/Riya/Alec on Gabby and Grett/Gabby on Yul) or whatever, it would be really funny if the heroes could use their four votes on Alec in the exact same way that the villains did on Ashley. Weird things can happen, and I do feel like Alec's timer could be running out. It could just be pessimism, though. Can't forget the pessimism.

#8: Riya

Much like how Riya feels about Connor, I'm sure that, now that Riya (theoretically) no longer has immunity, Connor will want to vote her out if he has the chance. Aiden and Connor both want her gone, so I wouldn't be surprised if the heroes wind up throwing their votes on her if they don't have a better plan. The main point against that plan is that throwing four votes on Riya won't do a whole lot unless you can get a fifth vote or if the villains split their votes. Could that possibly happen?

Well, the "splitting the votes" option is basically the same thing I described for Alec, just with the heroes' votes landing on Riya instead of Alec. It could be a result of Alec having immunity again, or of them just having more of a personal vendetta against Riya. But, how could a fifth vote happen?

One option is definitely Yul. Despite working together for so long in DCAS, Riya and Yul definitely don't like each other, so Yul could flip to take her out. Remember that vote that Riya cast on Yul for funsies back at the Miriam vote? Now that Connor is back in the game, he could once again try to prove to Yul that it was Riya who cast that vote. If he could come up with some convincing proof, it could set Yul off. Wouldn't it be fitting for Riya to be eliminated as a result of her former pettiness?

This would also work in terms of Connor being the one to get Riya eliminated. I assume that, much like they were going for with Ashley and Fiore, the writers will want Connor to get his revenge on Riya at some point in this season. It could be now.

The dialogue scene shown in the trailer also gives me reason to worry for Riya. She seems to be having a dramatic and emotional moment, possibly losing control of the That Bitch(tm) persona she's tried to cultivate and reestablish in Connor's absence. If she freaks out in a way that winds up losing the challenge for the villains, it could remind the former Yellows of the way she lost them the musical challenge. It could be additional fuel to the fire of Yul's flipping, or even convince Alec that she's too much of a liability...?

I don't know. I definitely feel like there's something there to support a Riya elimination, but I sorta worry about putting her this low, because I might be calling it too early. But, it's gotta be #9's time to go, right?!

#9: Yul

I'm NOT making my Ellie mistake again. I'm not going to let the fact that I feel like Yul should have been an obvious boot an episode or two ago cause me to gaslight myself into moving him away at the eleventh hour...!

I already talked about one way that Yul could be eliminated back in Gabby's section, and that's not even the most obvious way he could get axed. Gabby and Grett just straight up turning on him seems far more likely. I'm sure that the skin tight superhero suits will only invite more negative commentary from Yul to Grett, which could further motivate Gabby.

This point isn't necessarily directed at solely Yul, but, the superhero imagery certainly seems to bring a heroes' victory in this episode to mind, doesn't it...?

Yeah, I don't have much else to add about Yul. I think that I've already said everything I have to say about him in prior power rankings. Other than that the tiebreaker loss thing probably isn't happening anymore, just because I doubt they'd want two tiebreakers in one season. Ah well. You can't win 'em all... but hopefully I'll finally win by putting Yul at the bottom this week.

Well, that's it! I'll once again plug @venus-is-thinking's own power ranking if you want something else to read now that you're done with this. See you all on... Saturday? Woah, what a twist! We're really picking up the pace heading into the Disvengers: Endgame. I'm sure the superhero timing was purely intentional. Until then!

[uswnt-mostlypinoe]

I know I don’t post my personal thoughts on here very often, but I need to post something for my own therapy. Megan Rapinoe…

It’s extremely difficult for me to try and find the words to express how much Pinoe has meant to me over the past (almost) 13 years.

I used to play right midfield in soccer, but lost my love for the game nor did I enjoy watching any form of it.

One day, my dad randomly happened to be watching a 2011 WWC group stage match. He just stumbled across it flipping through channels and only knew who Wambach was.

He started listening to the broadcasters explain how a player had been benched from being a starter right before the WC started due to not performing to the coaches’ liking.

This player was then subbed onto the field and almost immediately scored, proving the coaches all wrong. She proceeded to run to the corner, pick up a furry microphone, and belt “born in the USA” for all to hear in celebration.

My dad yelled for me to come witness this player with “a shock of blonde hair.” As the highlights replayed, he explained the events that just occurred, knowing that he had just witnessed the start of something great.

After that, I was glued to the rest of the WC. Then, the quarterfinal match against Brazil happened… To this day, I have never seen a match quite like that: the highs and lows, the drama, the fairy tale ending… the cross that changed everything. Going forward, I was not only hooked to this team, but I felt a very special connection to Pinoe.

I started watching every video I could find that was about Pinoe (I will never forget roomies for life [wild turkeys, chocolate croissants, Gumby, megan rapinoe I went to the casino…], hometown visits, the video with the shins music, I could go on and on).

I fell in love with the sport of soccer again. I worked on tricks in my house, watched every game I could, started this blog dedicated to soccer, etc.

But it was bigger than just the renewed interest in sport. Megan Rapinoe became the first person who I did not personally know who I genuinely cared about. Up until that point, I had never had a hero (outside of my parents of course) like others around me did. As a socially awkward, reserved, low self esteem teenager, this was important for me.

I didn’t know what it was about her at first. But I found myself wanting to be just like her. I changed my hairstyle, my fashion, my music interests, and tried to be a more confident person. I’ll be honest, I was obsessed with her. I even questioned my sexuality, thinking it might explain why I’m so fascinated with everything about her (eventually realized I’m actually asexual).

After the team won the Olympic gold medal in 2012, I wanted nothing more than to see the team play in person. The problem was, back then, they rarely ever came to the Midwest. So my family and I decided to take an 18 hour road trip to watch them play in Rochester, New York.

I will never forget that trip as long as I live. My family happened to be staying at the same hotel as the team (I swear it was purely a coincidence). I met a lot of players that weekend (Hope Solo, Alex Morgan, Carli Lloyd to name a few). I cried like a fan girl while speaking to Rachel Buehler in the lobby due to my excitement.

And of course, I met Pinoe. I was terrified to talk to her. Thankfully my dad was there. He had no problem calling her over to get a picture as she was leaving the restaurant part of the hotel for practice. She graciously took photos with my family, but I was at a loss for words.

Later, I ran into her in the lobby. She came over to where my brother and I were standing. She asked us where we were from and was impressed to hear how far we traveled to support the team. She went out of her way to have a conversation with us, was interested in what we had to say, and made us feel like we were talking to a friend. She shook our hands at the end of the conversation and said she’d look for us at the game.

After that conversation, I’d never felt such a high in my life. I felt like if I could have a normal conversation with my hero (without humiliating myself) that I could do just about anything.

I continued to watch the games and attend as many as I could depending on the drive. It was so fun to get to watch her play in person. The creativity, vision, and play making skills that woman has makes her one of the best players the team has ever seen.

And just when I thought it couldn’t be possible to be more amazing, Pinoe started to unselfishly use her platform to advocate for others. As someone who comes from a family with some unique needs, advocating for all groups is very important to me. Her work for lgbtq rights, women’s equality, and bringing awareness to racial injustice is helping to change the world.

As someone who works with kids as well as individuals with disabilities, I strive everyday to be kind, empathetic, patient, and understanding in order to help make the world a better place. I strive to advocate for others.

Megan Rapinoe is everything I want to be. She is so genuine, confident, and empathetic towards all people. She’s my hero, she’s my role model, she’s a good person.

I truly don’t think soccer will ever have another Megan Rapinoe. I’m so grateful I got to see her play in her last game in Chicago. I will miss seeing her on the field. I cannot thank her enough for everything she’s done for soccer, for human rights, and for me. And I cannot wait to see what her next chapter brings.

[3416]

Hey love your blog! I am new to hockey but I’m confused over the coach firing. I understand when there is a pattern, things to change. But when keefe said he didn’t push the team enough to produce results, how much motivating can a coach really do? Doesn’t it still just come down to the players to produce? None of this meant maliciously! I understand this viewpoint can be completely wrong, just trying to learn!

motivation and team culture isn't a coach's only job! they're involved a lot in the specifics and systems the team plays (like where players are positions physically on the ice depending on the situation, 5v5 4v5 pk powerplay etc and all these are different methodologies team to team), and they're involved in the decision making behind the bench, obviously. you watch a game and they're back there choosing how to roll out lines, who is going on what line etc. at the end of the day, keefe knows his time was close to up with this team, and his reasons aren't like the 100% truth why we didn't succeed. at some point, it really doesn't matter how much he would have pushed them or yelled at them or whatever people think needs to be happening, they would've ended up in the same spot.

keefe's systems with the leafs were good for the regular season, but they never saw legitimate playoff success. he coached for almost 5 years here, and has some of the biggest talents the leafs have ever had and wasn't able to get them over the hump. in my opinion, it has a lot to do with him never having the best roster, but i also think the style he coaches doesn't necessarily fit the high end offense we have permanently on our roster. he's a very team-defense minded coach. his favorite players were the ones that can be moved up and down the lineup and often times lack finish but are defensively reliable. our team was reduced to playing a lot of low-scoring grinding games when... we have the best nhl goal scorer and some elite playmaking talent on this team, lol. at the end of the day, there can only be so many tries without success, and his style just wasn't fitting here but he will definitely not have trouble finding a new job! as for the future, i'm mostly worried we're going to hire someone who coaches very similar systems-wise even though that's all we've seen during the marner-matthews era, and the players are going to take more fall for coaching failures.

[choices-binglebonkus]

PB should just hire you to revamp WTD.

Part of the reason stories like ILITW and ILB left me so *shook* after playing them is because of decreasing nerve scores and the main characters' lives are at stake because of that. And of course these death sequences are well written to boot. Even though I was deliberately making the bad choices in my first playthroughs just to see what would happen, even though I was well aware it was gonna be horrifying, it still left me nearly unable to sleep. I'm not even kidding. ILS knew what they were doing and it did it good.

Having LIs' fates be determinant not just on specific stat levels but also your hard choice decisions would have been some very next-level goodness. But unfortunately, PB still played it just too safe even in one of the more respectable modern Choices books. #WakeTheDeadDeservedBetter

Absolutely, anon. That’s one of the biggest issues with modern books. For books where they need to take risks and get creative, they just don’t.

The It Lives series was so impactful because there were very real stakes. You could die. Your friends could die. There were lives on the line and they made that very clear early on in ILITW, letting us know that their nerve at the end of the game would directly tie in to their fates. If, say, Lily and Dan died, it was YOUR fault. If Lucas and Andy died, it was YOUR fault. If all of your friends died, well, you know the drill.

Plainly put, important characters integral to the plot could die because of your mistakes. And PB was absolutely not afraid to make you feel that in the most visceral, gut-wrenching ways.

Branching off of that, zombie media also tends to do this sort of thing particularly well. Wake the Dead wasn’t fully inspired by it, but had some very loose inspiration from The Walking Dead. In both the comics and the show (more so the comics), The Walking Dead isn’t afraid to let you know that absolutely no one is safe. No one.

Wake the Dead has many issues, but that, I think, is the biggest. It simply had no stakes whatsoever. Unlike some of the best zombie media, the zombie bites weren’t always fatal, and that took away a HUGE amount of what made the zombies so scary.

When the raiders attacked Sunflower Creek, I knew the main group would survive and there would be minimal casualties among the side characters. When the MC was taken by the raiders, I knew they were going to survive. When Eli was bitten, I knew he was going to survive, even when they gave us the choice to shoot him. When the main group went into the freaking zombie hive, I knew they were all going to survive. When Blackstock came to the colony and tried to execute us and all hell broke loose, I knew everyone was going to survive (but Blackstock).

There. Were. No. Stakes. NONE! None of them!

The closest thing we got to any sort of urgency was Brynn’s “death” early on. But that was it. That was the only major casualty in the book because PB played it safe in a zombie book of all books.

At the same time, PB tried to create an artificial sense of urgency by throwing different types of zombies into the mix. Types of zombies that the main group had never even seen before, even though the apocalypse had gone on for 21 years at that point, and two Solstices had already occurred since they happen like clockwork every 7 years. I don’t understand how not a single one of the people in our main group had never seen any of these variants.

And this goes without saying, but this artificial sense of urgency they tried to create with the variant zombies? It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work? Because the main character and love interests all had the most impenetrable plot armor in quite literally the entire app. I mean, Eli cheats death for Pete’s sake. He was on death’s doorstep from his bite (ON THE NECK, MAY I ADD, RIGHT BETWEEN THE HEART AND BRAIN) and still managed to survive and recover with no problem???? What????????

I get wanting to play it safe to an extent. This was a horror book that clearly had a lot go into making it. But you absolutely cannot be cautious in writing a zombie book. You simply can’t. Zombie media is absolutely notorious for killing off both main and side characters, whereas Wake the Dead only kills off side characters who otherwise don’t have much impact on the story.

Yes, some zombie media does get a happy, or at least, a realistically bittersweet ending. The Walking Dead comics, show, and Telltale series do. The Evil Dead does. 28 Days Later, I Am Legend, Zombieland all do. They have stakes which make us more invested, but also use those stakes in some way to tie up loose ends and give us an ending that really makes us think.

So yeah. As you said, anon, PB just played it too darn safe. And you can’t do that with zombie media. It’s not in the spirit of the genre, and its effect on the book quality was very evident.

[redwineconversation]

Olympique Lyonnais - ASSE OLPlay Postgame Interviews

Slowly but surely making my way through the backlog.

Blah blah standard disclaimers apply; if you do invasive shit your ass should be banned from stadiums (maybe THEN you will finally learn!!!); @OL Comms Dept it's fall aka PSL weather; y'all know the speech.

I am not too proud to admit that I had major concerns when Lyon first recruited Vanessa Gilles. How times have changed. Also hard to believe this is the same person Horan said was a massive introvert beginning of last season.

Gilles' interview ft Horan was one of the most chaotic things I have ever seen, and the "condensed" version Lyon posted on Instagram doesn't do the live version justice. Pure and utter chaos, and completely endearing.

Lyon and myself to Vanessa Gilles:

SONIA BOMPASTOR POSTGAME INTERVIEW

Bompastor: Obviously satisfied with the result, three points, and we're top of the table. It's a good thing. So, satisfied overall. Within the context of the game, I think we saw some really good things. I liked what my team presented this evening. So, a lot of satisfaction and we're on a really good streak.

Journalist: We still get the feeling we saw a game of two halves. Lyon was in complete control the first half, the second half was a bit more complicated.

Bompastor: Yeah, we struggled to get going again in the second half. Several different factors can explain that. There were a few substitutions at half time, so that took a while to get going. But also I think the game was very physical, there were a lot of fouls, a lot of stoppage of play. We saw that with the amount of extra time at the end. And so it's not easy in those conditions to keep your rhythm and impose your style of play. I was a little bit frustrated in that regard. But sometimes you just have to deal with it.

Journalist: We also would like a quick word on Lindsey [Horan], who scored a hat trick. For us in the studio, she was voted Player of the Match. Do you agree?

Bompastor: Yes, yes. Lindsey [Horan] had a really great performance. We saw it in the second half, but she had a great game overall. At halftime we showed her one or two clips where she could have pushed forward more and be more decisive. She was able to do that in the second half. She pushed forward a lot, both in the penalty area and also she scored a hat trick, so for her confidence, it's good, for the team as well. When you have Lindsey playing at that level, it's always really positive.

Journalist: For the team, there was a substitute which concerned us a little bit, it was Wendie Renard. Do you have any news?

Bompastor: Listen, it's too soon. In any case, as you saw, we took her off. I think we'll see how she feels tomorrow. We might do some additional exams and tests, and cross our fingers.

Journalist: One last question about the calendar. There are two away games, against Reims and maybe the big clash of the beginning of the season in Paris, but against Paris FC.

Bompastor: Yes, there will obviously the away game next week at Reims, in the Stade Auguste Delaune [Note: the big stadium]. There'll be the international break, and then right after the end of the international break we have Paris FC. Now, I've said it since the beginning of the season, we have a lot of ambition, a talented roster. So we stay concentrated on what we can and should do. The opponents, we give them all the same respect. Obviously when we're preparing for a game we focus on certain elements, but if we play at our level, with the talent and quality we have, we should be able this season to do some really good things. So yeah. Respect the opponents obviously, but have confidence in ourselves and put our game in place so that we can perform at our best.

VANESSA GILLES (FT LINDSEY HORAN) POSTGAME INTERVIEW

Gilles: First of all, thank you. I think it's a derby. A derby is never easy. As the saying goes here in France, you don't play a derby, you win it. I think we saw that with all the physical tackles throughout the game. So hopefully we get to go home with zero injured players. But especially six goals scored, it's - that's not done every day.

[Gilles looks resigned as Horan comes into the shot]

Horan: What was the question?

[Gilles completely loses it]

Journalist: So we have the Player of the Game and Vanessa Gilles. [Gilles is still losing it]. Vanessa, I have a quick question about your goal celebration. Can you tell us about that celebration?

Horan: No, we can't. [Gilles loses it again] We can't talk about that celebration. We can't.

Gilles: [imitating Horan's accent] We can't. [Horan loses it] We can't.

Journalist: Okay, then I'd like you to say something about your teammate, Lindsey Horan, whom we voted Player of the Game.

Gilles: Her? Player of the Game?

Journalist: Well she did score a hat trick. It was her first one for Lyon, that's pretty impressive for her part.

Gilles: If you say so. [Gilles and Horan both lose it]

Horan: Use your words.

Gilles: No, I'm really happy for her. A hat trick, it's [to Horan] Can you stop? I'm trying to be nice.

Horan: Okay, okay.

Gilles: It's true that we don't score hat tricks every day. I'm really happy for her and I hope it's the first of many for her at Lyon. Beyond that, she deserves it, she puts in so much work, sometimes we don't see it, like - how do you say it - defensively, etc. She puts in so much work, she's on every ball, she always puts her teammates in the right situation. So I'm happy that she scored that hat trick because she deserves it.

Journalist: We'll continue with Lindsey right after this, but one last question, Vanessa. We have a statistic, it's that you scored five goals in D1 Arkema, five headers. It's obviously your strong point.

Gilles: Yeah.

Horan: [patting Gilles on the head] The golden head.

Gilles: I don't score often with my feet, so - [Horan completely loses it] It's not a statistic that surprises me.

[Horan and Gilles lose it]

Horan: [still laughing] Incredible stat.

Journalist: Thank you very much, Vanessa. [Gilles completely loses it again]

Journalist: [in English] Lindsey, congratulations for the game. [Gilles is still loses it in the background]

Gilles: [to Horan] Do you need a translator or can I go?

Journalist: [to Gilles] [sounding resigned] You can stay to translate if you want.

Journalist: [in English] The first question - I'm going to do it in French - [in French] the first question, as we said, you were voted Player of the Game. How do you feel after your hat trick? It was your first hat trick with Lyon.

Horan: [in English] How do I feel about it? Sorry, that [your French] was quick. No, I'm very happy, I'm happy we won the game obviously. It's a cool moment for me, it's my first hat trick with the club, with Lyon. I know Sean has it, my ball, somewhere here. But obviously my team put me in good situations to score for tonight.

Journalist: It was a derby, it was highly anticipated here in Lyon against ASSE. For you whom are coming from overseas, is it something you have to learn to take seriously?

Gilles: Well -

Horan: [in English] Well we can see it.

Gilles: The fact we're not allowed to wear green here, that tells us how important the game is.

Horan: [in English] What she said. I felt like what you said was good.

Journalist: More broadly, regarding the team's beginning of the season, we only have wins, no goals conceded. It's a perfect start of the season.

Horan: Yes, we have a really good goalkeeper [Note: she uses the French word for goalkeeper but literally pronounces it as "gardian"].

[Gilles loses it]

Gilles: [in English] Pick a language.

Horan: Franglais is better.

Horan: [in English] One, I think it's a credit to - not just Vanessa - but all of the team defensively and what they do in the backline. As for how our team is progressing forward, we don't want to concede any goals, we want to go and win every single game and continue to play good football.

Journalist: One last question. [Gilles and Horan lose it] There are two more games coming up -

Gilles: I don't know why we're laughing.

Journalist: [nervous laughter] Indeed, it's a little complicated. One last question and we're done. [in English] Lindsey, one more question. Two big games to come. Two away games - [Gilles is still losing it] - against Reims and against Paris FC. [Horan starts laughing as well] It's maybe the biggest one, Paris FC, for the beginning of the season.

Horan: [in English] Yeah. Well I think we focus first on the game against Reims next week. I think that's most important. Have our bodies recover for that game because we took a lot -

Gilles: [to Horan in English] We took a lot of hits out there?

Horan: [to Gilles in English] Well it's true! Was that your answer over there? This is a different interview, isn't it?

Gilles: [in English] Well it's still my answer!

Horan: [in English] Goodness me. Anyway. Focus on that game and then we can move forward.

Journalist: [in English] [sounding depressed] Thank you.

[f1]

Front row is great but race pace is what matters Leclerc | 2023 Austrian Grand Prix

Charles Leclerc was encouraged by Ferrari’s return to the front row in qualifying for the Austrian Grand Prix but is eager to see signs their race pace has improved. The team has tended to be quicker over a single flying lap in qualifying than it has been in the races this year. Leclerc is hoping the team has begun to address the high tyre degradation it has had in races after introducing another upgrade for its SF-23 this weekend. “All the effort is made to make our race pace better,” said Leclerc. “So it is great to be on the front row, it is great to be close again to pole position or at least to be fighting for it. But on the other hand, we still need to wait because the points are scored on Sunday and since the beginning of the season, that’s where the struggles are for us.” “We’re very, very close to pole position, which is a good sign,” he added. “But we all know that our weakness is the race.” After introducing one upgrade for their car in Spain, the Ferrari drivers gained six places each during the next race in Canada to finish fourth and fifth. “So we are waiting for the race to try and see if we confirmed the positive signs that we’ve seen in Montreal,” Leclerc continued. “The team has done a great job by putting so much effort into bringing the upgrades earlier than what was planned, and that helped us also to have a good feeling with the car today.” Leclerc came within five hundredths of a second of beating Max Verstappen to pole position for tomorrow’s grand prix. He admitted there were a few points early in the lap where he might have found more time. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free “There’s always something more,” he said. “I think turn three was not ideal, neither turn one, I had quite a bit of snaps [of oversteer]. We tried to add a bit more front wing for the last run in Q3 and probably was a tiny bit too much. But at the end it’s part of the game.” He gained time at the end of the lap in two corners where several drivers had run wide and lost their times due to track limits violations. Leclerc, who was the only driver who reached Q3 but never had a lap time deleted, said he pushed harder in those corners on his last run. “I pushed, this was my weakness for Q1 and Q2 and I knew this last lap I had to make the difference there or at least go for it and see what happened,” he said. “It worked well and I had two good last corners. But that was a weakness for the rest of qualifying so I’m happy I put everything together in the last lap of Q3.” Become a RaceFans Supporter RaceFans is run thanks in part to the generous support of its readers. By contributing £1 per month or £12 per year (or the same in whichever currency you use) you can help cover the costs of creating, hosting and developing RaceFans today and in the future. Become a RaceFans Supporter today and browse the site ad-free. Sign up or find out more via the links below: Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 Austrian Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Austrian Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

[uboat53]

Story time! This is a little bit of a SHORT RANT (TM), but it has a story to go with it that I think helps illustrate the point I'm trying to make.

THE STORY

So in middle school I played video games (shocker, right?) and there was this online group I was a part of where we would make our own custom levels for the video games and compete for high scores. It was a good deal of fun and it also brought me together with a bunch of people from all over the world.

One of the people in one of those groups was a guy from Serbia. This was in the late 90s when the US was bombing Serbia in order to try to stop the genocide in Kosovo. At one point the guy uploaded a video onto his website (this was before YouTube, putting videos on the internet was a bit more complicated then) and was really excited for us to see it.

You see, down the street from his house was a power plant. He had set himself up on the hillside overlooking it with his camera and the video he had taken was of US warplanes bombing the power plant which was probably only about a quarter mile from where he was standing.

It was a really interesting to watch, but those of us Americans in the group were horrified. "What in the world are you doing?" we asked him, "Don't just stand and watch, get out of there! It's dangerous!"

"It's not a problem," he assured us, "The Americans always hit what they aim at."

"No we don't!" we replied.

THE LESSON

That experience has stuck with me ever since and I find it carries a useful lesson for a lot of the misunderstandings we often encounter.

We Americans (elites) know that we make mistakes, but the regular people elsewhere in the world don't understand that. In their mind we're perfect, so if we do make a mistake and hit something bad, they're going to assume that we meant to do that. I recall the same thing happening in Afghanistan, where Afghans would blame Americans for any civilian casualties while not showing the same outrage against the Taliban; they assumed that we had meant to strike civilians while they accepted the Taliban strikes as more inadvertent.

This isn't just applicable to the American military either. I find that this type of thinking surfaces whenever someone contemplates someone else that they consider elite and beyond their understanding. They assume that the "elite" or "expert" is capable of perfection and that anything less is malicious.

After all, the elite are never incompetent and they never make mistakes, do they?

CURRENT EVENTS

What brings this to mind most recently is the pandemic. We have seen people rise up in anger against those they see as "elites", the medical and political establishments, blaming them for not doing enough to combat or in some cases accusing them of deliberately inducing or pushing on Covid-19. In particular they point to shifting recommendations as proof that the elites, who must have known the correct answer from the beginning, were simply manipulating events to suit their interests.

Those of us who know how our most advanced institutions work know that this is a normal process when confronting a sudden new phenomenon, information comes in fast and heavy and initial assumptions can quickly be overturned by new data, but I need to emphasize to you that the average American (and the average person around the world) does not have this understanding.

Partly this is the fault of those elites themselves. While it is correct to say that it is best to have, say, medical experts at the CDC making key decisions regarding an ongoing pandemic, many leaders have, likely inadvertently, given the impression that putting the decisions in the hands of experts would result in perfect outcomes every time rather than simply the best possible outcome most of the time.

Still, it's also an issue of unfamiliarity, most people don't have any real connection the people and institutions that are making the decisions and that makes it easy to project real fears and frustrations upon them.

CONCLUSION

I'll admit, I'm not 100% sure what the solution to this issue is. For me the best antidote to this kind of thinking has been having the chance to meet some of the smartest people in the country and to realize that they are both incredibly capable and also outmatched by the sheer amount of things that are left to discovery. Perhaps it would be useful to create more opportunities for more Americans to actually meet and interact with the people deemed experts who are tasked with making decisions.

In any case, even if I don't have an answer for this, I think it's at least useful for people like me to be aware of this particular type of thinking when discussing issues. You can't convince someone of anything if you can't make arguments that make sense to the way that they see the world.

I hope you enjoyed this particular story or at least found it interesting!

[desirableend]

Try Knights, Try something else...

Yeah cringe title but I could not think of anything else. TLDR: Really bad, but not bad enough to be worth watching. 5%. First thing, I finished this months ago, I am not even going to lie. Like I watched this show faster than I watch most things. Typically I rarely watch an episode of a show a day, where as this I finished in the week. I think the only reason I waited, two months(?) to write this is, it means I have to move onto the next show. Personally I will at least give a disclaimer, I am not drawn to sports media, nor do I prefer CGI animation. Despite that I still firmly believe that no one can like Try Knights. Nothing about this show is worth watching. Many shows that are bad, are bad enough that it feels worth watching. It is an experience, a horror you cannot look away from. This show is the same 3 shots with the flattest characters and no story. Naria girls has less frames than this, but at least it is entertaining and embraces it. I am actually impressed that the average Anilist score of ‘Try Knights’ is 38%,instead of 5%. Truly astonishing when there is not a single thing interesting about this show. The characters have no motivation that feels real, the story is just non-existent, a completely straight predictable line, no tension, and the animation is god awful. It is either 3 drawn frames animated in probably power point, or the worst CGI animation I have ever seen an anime try and make look cool. The few times I did laugh during the show were only because of an unexpected shot. Along with general bad quality animation, not only was the story slow, so was the movement. Any of the sporty shots were set to a snail pace. Some shots were purposefully done to be slow motion tension moments, they never created that desired affect, especially since the whole scene of the game was slower than anything you would expect in a game. At least the backgrounds weren’t bad. But they could have been produced with a large amount of photo editing, or were scrapped from another project as only the lower quality backgrounds implied a relevant setting. It was also never clear what the setting was aside from “school” and “field”, nothing was built or developed in this show so at least it is consistent. The best characters in the show were the antagonists, not because they were good characters, or good antagonists, simply because they had some dumb running bit of being over dramatic, instead of just being our main characters nerd and jock. My largest question while watching the show was consistently ‘who was this for?’ The show was not made with love or care, so it cannot have been a passion project. With how the show handles the gameplay and teaches the audience basic rules, it was definitely not for a rugby player. The average sports anime fan wont find anything in this show that other sports media offers them. Even the characters were not interesting enough to look at that some young girl could find them appealing and ignore all other aspects of. Extending from that BL fans and fujoshis wont find any connection between characters that they could enjoy the show from that aspect. I should clarify, the show has no queer rep, it just has this sort of bait approach with some lines that come across as though there may be tension, and it is not played into enough to make anyone feel like there is.  From my understanding this show was a failed attempt at making money after the success of haikyu, as this was developed during around while it was extremely popular. This is the studio that made the ‘Welcome to the NHK’ anime, and they fell this far, after firing all but I believe 12 employees at the time. I really think the creators of this anime never set out to tell a story. A story contains characters, conflict, development, tension, emotion, or at a basic level has a message told through events and/or is entertaining. Whereas what Try Knights is, is a poorly executed fujoshi bait riding on the idea that people will be desperate for ‘pretty’ sport boys who play rugby. If you’re looking for sports: Try Chihayafuru If you’re a fujoshi: :/, just watch anything with pretty boys in it, it will have better character connections than this.

also Anilist and MAL i think have tagged the demographic differently. I think Strange+ is what I have to watch next, however I will have to check, as after finishing Try Knights I switched form MAL to Anilist, and there is a slight different in Josei listed and their ranking.

I have also been watching Usagi Drop, When I write my post on that I am not sure how long it will be as I have not taken many notes and paused it to finish Chainsaw man and Spy x Families first season.

A real screen shot, this was still for way too long.

[researchwithviolet]

‘Learning How to Learn’ by Babara Oakley and Terrence Sejnowski, with Alistair MsConville.

I’ve selected this podcast topic because when everyone was discussing about the topics they listened to for the first two articles, I found this topic practically interesting. I have always seen myself as the ‘Black Sheep’ of the family as both my younger sisters are straight A’s student with full scholarships. And then here I stand, who can’t even secure a fifty percent scholarship. I have also always find myself zoning out and day dreaming while studying. I can never sit still and study, I would get distracted by the sound of the birds, or the smell of my mother’s cooking, or playing with the stationaries on my desk… My mom never did really think highly of me too. When I scored over 3.0 GPA during my first semester in high school, she told her friends I only scored 3 point something and that I was never smart enough to score more. When I won fourth place in a music competition, she said from the audience seat that she did not think my skills could win any prize, to the judge who was presenting the trophy to me on stage. After listening to a few discussions about ‘Learning How to Learn’ in the auditorium, I knew I got to know about the techniques and how to learn things effectively and successfully.

Listen to the podcast here:

Over the weekend, I have listened to the podcast trice, zoning out a few times in the middle of it, and rewinding again to relisten. Until at the third time I started implying the ‘pomodoro technique’ I kept hearing Barbara discussed about, where I listened for about 25 minutes, and take a coffee break, make some notes, and continued doing the same thing until I finished listening to the podcast.

The book ‘Learning How to Learn’ is a modified version of Barbara’s best seller book ‘A Mind for Numbers’ to help people, especially kids and teens, to understand how our brain works and show us how to ‘hack’ complex subjects with simple tricks.

Barbara Oakley was a successful linguist working for the U.S. Army when she first went out into the world [1]. She used to be bad at math and science and hated it throughout her childhood, thinking those subjects were just not meant for her. But as an adult, technology is constantly evolving and Barbara had been put into different positions where the skills to operate technological equipment were required. It was challenging for the linguist as technology comes from science and math, and so Barbara decided she had to learn these subjects in order to level up the game in her career progression. By doing so, she discovered the secrets to learning and earned herself a Ph.D. in Systems Engineering[2].

In Barbara’s research, we have two types of memory. The working memory, and the long-term memory, which are related to the two types of thinking, the focused mode (also known as task positive network) and the diffuse mode (also known as task negative network).

Working Memory

The working memory, as defined by Professor Nelson Cowan, a psychologist and a professor of Psychological Sciences at the University of Missouri[3], are small amount of information that is being held in our minds when we are doing cognitive tasks like solving something and learning something new[3].

Long-Term Memory

The long-term memory, as defined by Professor Nelson Cowan, is the vast amount of information we gathered from our lives and stored in our brains[4]. It is in the back of our mind that will come to play subconsciously when we are executing a task we know how to do.

As per my understanding, it is like how RAM and ROM works in computer. We have the RAM, which the computer used when executing a program, and the ROM, which stores all our saved data.

Focused Mode (Task Positive Network)

In the podcast interview, Barbara explained the focused mode as an activation mode. She described it as like activating math skills when presented with mathematical questions, activating speech skills when talking, and activating writing skills when writing. This mode is activated when we need to activate something to solve something.

When we are focused, we put specific parts of the brain to work. When we are using our focused mode, it means we are paying attention[2].

Diffuse Mode (Task Negative Network)

According to Barbara, diffuse mode is when our mind is not thinking about anything in particular. When we are in diffuse mode, we are using parts of the brain that are different from the parts we use when we are focusing[2]. This mode happens when sets of neurons that are in resting state connects. It is usually when ideas and creativity come to us.

Often, when people get stuck working on something, and they decided to take a break from it, they come back with solutions after the break. What happened was that the focused mode part of our brain had the time to take a break from focusing and the diffuse mode part kicked in. Our brain managed to take a step back and process the information from a different perspective while we are not focusing on it. This happens subconsciously. During the interview and in her book, Barbara states that our brain go back and forth between these two modes to help us learn, but we can never be in both modes at one time.

The Pomodoro Technique

The Pomodoro Technique was developed by Francesco Cririllo in the late 1980s. This method implies using a timer to break work into intervals. The technique suggests to focus working on a task for 25 minutes, and then take a 5-10 minutes break, and repeat the process till the task is completed[5].

Barbara strongly recommends this technique to help achieve effective learning. But do not think of the task to be completed as it might demotivate your will to learn. Instead, focus on the process. For example, instead of thinking ‘I need to finish this research paper’, think of ‘I’m going to work on something for 25 minutes, and I can have my coffee’. This way you can trick your brain to not think on the stressful task on hand and build better focus. During this technological era, it is also important to switch off all distractions during the 25 minutes. Put your phones away, turn off the notifications, just for 25 minutes to keep you from straying away, and you will be able to work efficiently and effectively.

Another effective way of learning complex topic is to use metaphors. From the topics we have covered above, there are many scenarios where we are able to relate, where we are able to understand immediately because of the metaphors used. While Barbara was writing her book ‘A Mind for Numbers’, which is also an adult version book for ‘Learning How to Learn’, Barbara talked to many professors who were rated as top professors, to her surprised, many of the professors said the best way to convey their ideas to students so that the students remember is to use metaphors.

Barbara also talked about other tips towards the end of the interview. Persistency is one of the keys to effective learning, repeated practices can help create links to our long-term memory and enable us to solve the problem when it arises. One of the other effective ways is to have discussions, talk about the topics you have learned. When we discussed something with other people, this helps imbedding the data into our brains, and we may have mistakenly understood some information that when we discussed it out, others can help correct us. Barbara said that leaning is also a social activity as much as an individual activity. And lastly, Barbara also suggested us to push ourselves in the process of learning. Do not fall into ‘lazy learning’, go explore different ways of learning, and challenging ourselves to learn new things.

While looking for more information about Barbara’s book, I came across a free pdf version of the book and I have read through 20 pages of the book. It is over 350 pages in the pdf file, and I intent to continue reading a little bit every day. I have also come across her online course and enrolled into the class. The course starts on 10th October 2022, and it is free to join until December 2022. I hope that towards the end of Barbara’s course and her book, I will be able to control my daydreaming tendencies, understand the benefits of being a slower learner than my sisters, and be more content and confident with myself.

External Links:

Purchase Barbara’s book ‘Learning How to Learn: How to Succeed in School Without Spending All Your Time Studying; A Guide for Kids and Teens’: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36647421-learning-how-to-learn

Purchase the book ‘A Mind for Numbers: How to Excel at Math and Science (Even If You Flunked Algebra)’:https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18693655-a-mind-for-numbers

The PDF book for ‘Learning How to Learn’ can be found here: (Kindly purchase from the above link to support if you are financially stable) https://www.pdfdrive.com/learning-how-to-learn-how-to-succeed-in-school-without-spending-all-your-time-studying-a-guide-for-kids-and-teens-e195220593.html

The online course can be found here: (Free to join till December 2022. This course contains assignments that need to be submitted, so make sure to commit when you enroll for the course) https://www.coursera.org/learn/learning-how-to-learn

References:

[1] https://barbaraoakley.com/about-me/

[2] Oakley, B. (2018). Learning How to Learn: How to Succeed in School without Spending All Your Time Studying: a Guide for Kids and Teens. J.P. Tarcher, U.S./Perigee Bks., U.S.

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson_Cowan

[4] https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4207727/#:~:text=Working%20memory%20is%20the%20small,widely%2Dused%20terms%20in%20psychology.

[5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pomodoro_Technique

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our little love part 2 - mafia/yandere au Drabble {angst + fluff}

As always please let me know what you think, I am actually going to go to bed now my brain is angry with me for not sleeping.

It seemed the cycle was never ending, you fucking up and pissing them off, them punishing you by drowning you in their love, only letting you come up to breathe so you could swim in your own guilt and submit to them.

You wince as the victim to your latest fuck up gets another blow to his chest. Taehyung and Hobi held onto his arms as Jungkook and Jimin kick and punch the poor individual. You know not to speak, it’ll only make things worse. Temperament was a fickle thing in their lives, trust was everything, and you still had to build yours up again.

“Y/n help please,” Kai whimpers as you stood with your arms crossed looking away.

“Don’t fucking say her name,” Jungkook growled before punching your ex colleague in the face. You’re frowning, the need to beg them to stop was fighting for exit on the top of your tongue, but you bite it down and pray Kai doesn’t say another word. You know if you do as he asks they’d kill him. Your punishment was to watch silently.

Yoongi strolls up behind you, hands in his pockets before he rests his head on your shoulder, watching the display in front of you both.

“Nothing to say little love?” He whispers as your friend groans out in pain.

Please don’t kill him, you want to say, but you just shake your head in defeat. You want to believe they’re better than this, but the evidence of the contrary was never hidden from you. They showed you every side of them whether proud of it or not with bold eyes daring you to stop loving them, pushing your boundaries and morals waiting for you to snap. But the breaking point never came, you loved them, you shouldn’t and you knew it, but you did. You were completely and utterly theirs, yet still they treated you like you hadn’t seen the worst of them. Like you would run away the second you realised they were monsters, not that they would let you run far, only far enough to let you take a single breath before making you drown in them once again.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, keeping an eye on your reactions. The asshole deserved it, not that they cared either way, he tried to take you away from them, that was enough.

Kai was your old partner before you took a very early retirement, what you didn’t know was that he continued the case you were working on before you left; the case of the seven men you now loved and the reason you quit said job. He had called you to meet up for old times sake and you, very naively in Yoongi’s mind, decided it was harmless. But if it was harmless why didn’t you say anything to the boys? You thought Kai didn’t know the reason you handed in your resignation, but he had been keeping an eye on you all before he realised you were the key to their downfall. He knew you harboured some feeling for him in the past and thought you’d reciprocate when he tried to flirt his way into getting his hands on the evidence you collected, he didnt know you burned it all. You lied to him and said you lost it, same difference anyway. This prompted plan b from him.

“Y/n they’re criminals,” he had said to you. “You’re a cop at heart you can’t love them.”

You floundered at his words when you realised he knew, and yet he still asked you to betray them.

“Kai I think I need to go...”

It was a mistake, you knew it then, but he followed you out onto the street and you hoped tonight the men you loved weren’t keeping an eye on you. Maybe naive was an understatement.

“Are they coercing you Y/n! Do they have something on you or are they threatening you?” He calls after you. “Because the Y/n I know would never love killers, what have they done to you?”

It was when he reached his hand out to grab your arm that your boyfriends decided to show themselves from the shadows. Which lead to the situation now, Kai beat up and bruised beyond recognition, and you forced to watch. He falls unconscious and they let him drop to the floor, you hate this side of them, it was cruel and cold but you’d never leave. They turn to face you now, their anger still present despite the last hour of releasing it onto your old partner. They don’t miss the way you’re shaking, the shallow breaths as you try and keep your tears to yourself. As much as you hate their violence, you hate their disappointment in you more.

——————————————————————————

You’re sitting in Joonie’s lap for what you call the debriefing of your punishment, this happened way too often in your opinion. You look down but he wasn’t having it today, tilting your head to look at him by your chin.

“Why did you get punished today little love?” He starts the same way as usual.

“I went out without telling you guys where I was going or who with,” you say while fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“And?” Hobi sits across from you in a chair, legs straddling the back and an elbow rested on top with his fist holding up his face. Hobi was hardest to pacify, he was ruthless and unforgiving and while that didn’t extend to you, you still had a hard time with his stubborn anger.

“I met up with Kai, and I let him touch me,” you’ve done this too many times before to not know how it worked. Kai’s ‘touch’ obviously meant nothing to you but for them it was the worst crime anyone could commit against their little love.

You remember the time you nearly tripped in the park and a guy steadied you politely, but you still had to hold Jungkook back from throwing hands.

“Kookie would you rather I fell and hurt myself?” No he hadn’t wanted that so he grumbled in agreement still seething but you cooled it down. “Instead of hitting him maybe you should thank him,” it was a joke but it made the youngest scoff.

“Baby girl why can’t you just be good?” Namjoon’s sigh brings you back to the present. “Why do you always have to test us like this?”

You didn’t mean to, you want to say it but the words are stuck below the sob in your throat. You actually whimper as his tone, bottom lip wobbling pathetically. He hadn’t even told you off properly, but you already felt like a mess as he bathed you in his disappointment. That was the common consequence of your actions and you hated it, you couldn’t do anything right.

——————————————————————————

“Jin do you need help with the food?” You ask your eldest boyfriend politely, he was frowning and you thought it was because today’s meal was too much for him to handle alone, his tone of voice made you realise it was because of you.

“No, I’m alright,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks and you’re left gaping at him like a fish. Jin loved it when you cooked with him, it was your bonding time without the others, although Yoongi would join you from time to time. The others also tried but Jin wouldn’t let them anywhere near the kitchen, they hogged you enough anyway.

You feel your soul deflate, still standing there as he ignored you.

“Are you mad at me too?”

The way you said it made his heart twinge with guilt, but the others were right you wouldn’t learn and your first betrayal was still fresh on their minds. He sighs and you turn away, refusing to crying in front of them for the tenth time that day. What was wrong with you? Ever since that day where they found out who you really were you felt like you werent enough anymore, you tried so hard to make up for it all but you kept messing up. You weren’t like this before, but after seeing the hurt you put them through you were constantly on edge and second guessing yourself. You wish you could go back and stop them from ever finding out.

Jin hears the sniffle as you walk away and he can’t go through with it.

“Wait little love,” he calls for you. “I forgot to cut the onions, would you mind?”

You shake your head, you didn’t mind, but you didn’t trust your voice to answer for you. Youre grateful to Jin for giving you this task, it hides the fact you’re crying, but you know he doesn’t miss it.

——————————————————————————

Jimin and Taehyung were giving you narrowed stern gazes through dinner, it put you off your food which resulted in getting told off by Jin just after he branched out to you in the kitchen.

You felt alone, like the seven men you loved were against you and there was no one to blame but yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly before getting up and removing yourself from the dinner table and dining room, ignoring all of their stares. You decide maybe an early night is best, you could start again fresh tomorrow. You don’t get too far up the stairs before a hand pulls you back, you turn to see Jimin with Tae a few steps behind him.

You’re so used to seeing them laugh and play around that it feels like you’re looking at different people. Even during missions or gun fights, the youngest three were always joking their way through the bloodshed, keeping scores of who got the most headshots and other grotesque games. You remember the time Jimin and Tae called you during he middle of a shoot out, arguing with you and each other over who you loved more out of the two while you begged them to not get shot or killed.

“Why did you go see him Y/n?” Jimin asked, he wore the demeanour he used for enemies and it takes you back to that night.

“I... h-he said he wanted to see me to catch up,” you explain but you know it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“And you thought that was a good idea, to see your old cop buddy?” His tone makes you feel stupid, you weren’t stupid.

“He was my friend Jimin,” you say in disbelief, you know in the end it was a mistake but at the time it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You’re ours,” Taehyung moved forward, towering over you even though he’s a step below you. His face is close to your own, eyes burning into yours as he looks disgusted at the words that left your mouth as if they’re still attached to you. “How do you think we felt when you went to see another detective? Do you have any idea what was going through our heads?”

“Tae I love you,” you lean away from him, searching his face for a hint of softness and love in his gaze, but there was only fire. “You know I wouldn’t, you all know I wouldn’t, I left that life for you why would I turn back to it?”

He stalks away from you without a word, Jimin close behind, giving you a final cold glance before leaving you alone. You thought your love could make them better but if anything you made their darkness worse.

——————————————————————————

Jungkook needed to vent, the only way he knew how was physically. Obviously it wasn’t the cleverest thing he’s done, taking rounds with the punching bag only to open up the cuts on his hand from beating the bastard earlier. He mutters a few curse words under his breath, why did you make matters worse? Maybe they were being harsh on you before today, finding any excuse to punish you a little, test your boundaries and see if you would run, but today they honestly feared that was what happened. They thought you chose to leave them and go back to the life you had before them, but they’d never let you go, they couldn’t let you go. Despite everything you loved them and they worshipped the ground you walked on. You were everything for them now, there’s be no point to any of them without you. Why didn’t you understand that?

He throws another punch to the bag, spreading his blood across them, it hurt like hell, but the thought of you running back to your old partner still played on all of their minds. He wanted to cry, he wanted to find you and beg you to never leave them, they’d be nothing without you.

There’s a knock on the door and he finds you on the other side, waiting for permission to come in. You never waited for permission, it makes him frown, maybe they were too harsh on you today. He could see you shuffling your weight, insecurity screaming through your eyes, you feared his rejection more than his anger.

He notices the first aid kit in your hand, you must’ve heard him. He doesn’t let the fluttering in his chest reach his face as he sits on the bench, waiting for you to come to him.

His gaze is expectant, daring you to cross the threshold and face him, you were no coward, you didn’t fear them the way others did, why were you behaving so meekly now? You force yourself to move and sit beside him, setting the kit down and pushing your hair back behind your ears. He doesn’t move his gaze away from you, even with the sweat and hair hanging in front of his face.

You carefully take a his hand into yours, sucking air between your teeth at how injured it was.

“I’m sorry you hurt yourself because of me,” you say, eyes on his bloodied knuckle as you press the ointment against the open wounds. “Are you sure you want me to stay, I keep hurting you...”

You try to sound like you’re joking, that you’re okay and the hurt isn’t weighing you down with your doubts. He frowns, they really did take it too far. He sets down the cotton wool from your grasp, taking both of hands into his before kissing each finger delicately without letting you look away.

“You’re perfect little love,” Jungkook says, reassuring you with no question in his voice. “We’re the ones who don’t deserve you, we’re mean and cruel but we’re never letting you go.”

You remember how loving they were before that night, maybe while they accepted the truth at face value they could never really forgive you in their hearts. Maybe that’s why they were being like this, they didn’t love you the same way anymore.

“Do you love me?” You had to know, the doubt was eating you alive.

He looks at you as if you’re insane, maybe you are, you don’t know anymore.

“Little love, don’t you see how much we love you?” He asks sincerely. “We would do anything for that love even if it made you hate us, you belong with us, and no one is going to take you away.”

You could see the crazed look in his face grow as he spoke, you believed him, the honestly worn like a heart on a sleeve. But his answer bought a wave clarity to your hazed vision, you made them like this, you made them worse, you had to leave.

[kohanayaki]

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2   CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had  a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.  

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1977  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1978   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12​

[emf005]

Knock On Wood

Oliver Wood x Reader

Warnings: The Puns are real, fighting, fluff... (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Please Like and follow and let me know what you think!

What a lovely day to bother the Gryffindor quidditch captain, Oliver Wood. You swung your legs off Fred’s lap and ruffled George’s hair as you went to your dorm.

“Where are you off to?” George asked, tossing the pranking ball at you. You caught it and tossed it right back before it could release the gas from inside that smelt like a dead skunk bathed in vomit, a smell of your own invention you were proud to say.

“I overheard that Ollie was going down to the pitch for some extra practice. Think I need some work on my,” you flipped your hair dramatically. “Chasing.” The two scoffed at your horrible pun, considering you were the best Chaser in all of Hogwarts. Both figuratively and metaphorically. You ran up stairs and grabbed your gloves, threw on your riding boots and grabbed your broom. Everything you owned was pretty worn out, you were muggle born and your family wasn’t exactly the richest. Actually you were poorer than the Weasleys', and there were only four of you!

They looked back up at you as you jumped the last four stairs and walked out of the room to go bug the keeper. You loved bugging Wood. His name was meant for puns. It's just perfect! I mean, Oliver, obviously a good nickname for him was Ollie, which he pretended to hate. And then Wood. There were so many there. And then he was a Keeper. Like, he just made it too easy for you!

“Ollie!” You called happily from the bottom of the pitch. He glanced down and you could hear his eye roll. You flew up and met the Keeper in the air. “What a surprise meeting you up here, hun!” He rolled his eyes and turned his broom around so you wouldn't see the blush on his cheeks from the nickname you had given him. Well, one of the many nicknames you had given him.

“What do you want, Y/L/N. I’m practicing here.” You frowned and leaned forward on your broom.

“Maybe I wanted to practice with you, Ollie. I’m hurt you want me to leave so soon. I got all dressed up just to see you.” He glanced at your attire.

“Honored. You should really get new riding gloves and boots,” he mentioned.

“Yeah, they’re on my list right next to a cyclops.” He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. “Come on Wood, I bet I can get a few past you,” you grinned, sitting back up on your broom.

“Ha! You wish, Y/L/N!”

“Scared?”

“Never.”

“Then Wood you go get the ball and we can have a go at it!” He groaned at you pun.

“Stop it.

“Stop what? I just told you to go get the ball,” he flew down and started to walk away from you.

“You know what!” You smirked. He showed back up a few minutes later as you were speeding around the pitch. He watched you go in awe at how fast you were flying. How perfect your form was. And how good you looked doing it.

Stop it. He told himself as he called up to you. He tossed up the Quaffle and you zoomed over catching it in one fluid motion, going so fast you nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Lets go, Ollie!” You shouted down to him, tossing it up in the air and catching it. “I gotta beat you by four!” He mounted his broom and flew up to you.

“Why? What's at four.”

“Fred, George, and I have some… business to attend to.”

“Which hallway do I have to avoid this time?” He sighed, making his way to the posts.

“There's no fun in that, Olive oil! You might stop people like you did last time,” you pouted.

“Did you just call me Olive oil?”

“Your name is Oliver, did you not expect me to make an olive pun?”

“I was hoping.”

“I guess you could say you were-”

“Don’t do it.”

“Knocking on Wood.” You smiled.

“I hate you.”

“Nah. You love me,” you blew him a kiss making his cheeks heat.

The game was close the whole time, but you ended up winning by one point. Though, he did not accept his defeat.

“That wasn’t fair!”

“Just because you were too busy laughing at my joke, Ollie, doesn’t mean it wasn’t fair. You always tell me to be more focused. Maybe you should follow your own advice instead of gazing longingly at me,” you joked as the two of you headed to the locker room.

“I don’t gaze longingly,” he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah ya do, mate,” George said, coming over and putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Only at her though,” Fred clarified, doing the same thing on the other side of you. You laughed at the two trouble makers.

“I’m just flawless, he can’t help it. Right, Ollie?” You joked, but he just stalked off to the showers frustrated. You frowned and creased your eyebrows. You didn't take it too far, did you? “Did I say something offensive?”

“No.” they said together, smirks on their faces.

“Hey, Ollie!” You yelled to Oliver, running towards him in your Gryffindor uniform. It was the Slytherin v.s. Gryffindor match today, and you were ready to kick some serpent ass. Oliver just nodded to you and kept walking. You frowned and stopped watching him go. What was that? Fred and George came up behind you.

“What was that about?” George asked. You shook your head and looked after the boy you longed to talk to. It was a well known fact amongst the three of you that you liked him. They had tried to get you to tell him on multiple occasions, but every time you went to say something, a pun just came out because of your nerves.

Harry came over to the three of you and looked past you to see Wood walking away with his shoulders a bit slumped.

“He’s been like that all day.” Harry said, shaking his head. “Don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe throw him a pun or two today, Y/N. Looks like he needs one.” Harry left you three to stare after Wood as he made his way to where the majority of the team was, ready to walk out and begin the game against the Serpents’ house.

Brutal. That was the only way to describe how they played. Well, that was also how your team played. The rivalry between the houses fueling the urge to win. Skill increased, adrenaline flooded through everyone on the pitch. Rooms zoomed through the air, the wind combined with the cheers and boos from the crowd was deafening.

It was brilliant.

Y/N zoomed through the air perfectly, avoiding everyone as she threw the Quaffel into the top goal post. Gryffindor cheered and she smiled, flying her broom around in victory as the Slytherin’s booed her. Y/N watched the Quaffle get tossed around by a few Slytherin’s and zoomed over to them. As it was tossed in the air she intersected it and flew around towards the Slytherin side again, scoring yet another goal. The Slytherins sneered at you and, unbeknownst to you, had a plan up their sleeves.

The Quaffle was tossed to you again and then you were being chased, but this wasn't your normal chase. You had two Slytherin players in front and back and two on your sides.

You swore to yourself as they got closer. Suddenly they all just dispersed. You were far up in the clouds at this point and it was hard to see. You began to speed back down when something hit you in the head, knocking you off your broom.

You fell. You heard screaming, but you didn’t know if it was you or someone else. You felt yourself slow down but you were still going fast, the Quaffle still tightly in your grasp as you hit the ground. Everything went black.

Wood watched the Slytherin team surround you and take you up into the clouds. What were they planning? The team dispersed and flew back into view, but you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Then he saw your figure falling. His heart stopped. Dumbledore cast a spell to slow you down but you were still going too fast.

“Y/N!” him and the twins cried in unison, flying down to meet you on the ground. Your body bounced and you were out cold. The rest of the quidditch game was canceled and everyone made their way out onto the field to see what happened, Madam Hooch in front of them all. The three boys stared down at you unmoving body thinking that the fall killed you. The Slytherin’s walked off the field, not caring anymore. They had won. But that wasn’t the reason Oliver Wood’s blood was boiling. They had hurt you and that was not ok. Ever.

Madam Hooch took you to the hospital wing and Fred and George were about to follow when they noticed Oliver heading towards the Slytherin shower area with his fists clenched. They followed.

“Oi!” The boys clad in green turned around at his voice. “Was that really necessary? She could’ve died!” Marcus Flint scoffed.

“Not our problem.” Wood clenched his jaw.

“It is your problem.”

“Why, pissed off we hurt your mudblood girlfriend? Can’t even buy herself proper riding-” Flint didn't get to finish his statement thanks to Wood’s fist in his face. He stumbled back and Fred and George grabbed Wood’s arms pulling him away form the fight.

“Say that again. I fucking dare you!”

“Wood, shut up mate!” Fred hissed, struggling to pull him away.

“Lets go right now! I’ll fucking take you all down. Right here right now! Lets go!”

“Wood!” George hissed. “No. If you won’t come with us for your own sake, at least do it for her sake.” Wood growled, making the twins lean back. He just growled. They had never seen him get so defensive over something. So protective.

“Yeah! Go running to your mudblood girlfriend, Ollie.” The three froze. The twins dropped Wood’s arms and in three seconds he was on top of the Slytherin’s beating the lot of them to a pulp. They looked at each other and slowly backed away.

Wood could take care of himself. That much had always been clear. But this… This was just horrifying.

You started to stir a bit, everything in your body aching, you head pounding. You felt sticky, but not your normal sweaty sticky. You groaned and opened your eyes. The lights of the infirmary blinded you a bit.

“Y/N?” The twins? Your eyes adjusted and you saw two redheads staring at you from above. It all came back to you and your blood boiled. “How do you feel?”

“Can I please have a knife?”

“First off, no.”

“Second off, why?”

“I am going to stab each and everyone of those Slytherin pricks so they bleed and hurt and beg me for mercy.” You groaned.

“She’s up?” Your head snapped up at Wood’s voice, but you couldn't see him.

“Yeah.”

“But she’s in a killing mood again.” The twins patted your leg, silently telling you they’d be back later. Oliver came and sat by you, you turned your head so you could see him.

“You look good.” you smirked sarcastically.

“Yeah well, you don't look picture perfect either.” You cringed mockingly.

“That hurt Ollie. Almost as much as these broken bones.”

“You're lucky you're not dead.”

“I mean, there's still time for that. So…” you stabbed his shoulder three time with your fist. “Knock on wood.” He let out a laugh and you smiled.

“You laughed.” He looked at you.

“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you never laugh. Why do you think I always try? Who knew falling off my broom would get you to laugh.” “Yeah, well. Don’t go doing that again. You gave me quite the scare.” You laughed, cringing at the way you felt your ribs shift. He looked panicked. “What happened? Do I need to get Madam Pomfrey?”

“Relax, Ollie. It was just my ribs shifting. Nothing to over react about. So, what did happen to that pretty face of your? You look like a woodpecker attacked you.”

“You really can’t turn the puns off can you?”

“I just got to get Olive them out.”

“Wow. That's pathetic.”

“You never answered my question. Are you alright?”

“I just had a row with the Slytherin team. They called you a few… unsavory words.”

“Pour mudblood?” You asked without breaking. His eyes widened, surprised to hear you say the slur. You shrugged. “Yeah. They say that a lot.”

“And you’re just fine with that?”

“Well, I mean. No. But, what am I going to do about it? Take on all of Slytherin house?”

“I did.”

“Which was incredibly stupid. Why would you even do that?”

“Because they insulted you!”

“Ollie, why does that matter? I’m no one important!”

“Yes you are!”

“Really? To who?”

“The twins! The team! To me!” You fell silent and he heard what he said. He was about to cover it up.

“I’m important to you?” He swallowed.

“Yeah. Always have been.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Always will be. Y/N." He started to gain more confidence. "I have been in love with you since our first year when you made a Woody woodpecker joke at my expense. Whoever that is.” You laughed, remembering the cartoon.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I was scared.”

“I scare the Oliver Wood? That's an accomplishment.”

“I’m trying to confess my feelings here!”

“If you just kiss me, I think I’ll get the hint!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” He grabbed your face and, as gently as his adrenalin allowed him, brought it to his, putting his lips on yours, finally. You two would have continued to make out if not for a clearing of someone’s throat. Oliver disconnected your lips and looked back to see Madam Pomfrey.

“Miss. Y/L/N needs her rest, Mr. Wood. I am well aware of you two strained and prolonged crushes and am glad to see you two have finally stopped acting like buffoons and gotten to it already. But she has just fallen from an extraordinary height so it is appreciated if you would keep it to a minimum until she is well enough to at least walk.” She turned on her heels and walked out. You started to laugh and Oliver placed a kiss on your cheek.

“When you finally get out of here, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to,” he whispered into your ear. He pulled back with a smirk on his face and you gaped at him.

“Ollie!” You laughed. “Didn’t know you had that side to you.”

“Lots of things you don’t know, love.” he kissed your head. “Get some rest.” You smiled, your eyes already closing.

“M’kay, Ollie.” You were on the verge of sleep when you muttered out a question. “Hey, Ollie?”

“Yes, love?”

“You’ll still kiss me when I wake up, right?” He chuckled.

“I don't think I can stop now.” You smiled, sleepily.

“Good. I don't want you to.” You fell asleep and he watched you for a moment.

“Neither do I.”

Let me know what you guys think! I love feed back!

[adorerdraco]

Malfoy’s Gone Soft! ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Draco, your boyfriend, is mean to everyone until you call him out for it.

Warnings: mentions of bullying :( and a couple profanities :0

Words: 2K 

A/N: omg i wrote this on a whim while listening to the euphoria score soundtrack in like an hour idk if its all that but i have no idea what i’m going to do next for Healing Heart so for now i’m just going to write other things for Draco until i get inspired ! & feel free to send me requests ! also thank you for 100 followers you guys are amazingggg !!!!!!!!!!! *insert pouty emojy*

The sound of arrogant and boisterous laughter filled the courtyard, the Slytherin Prince and his minions were tossing around a book bag that a helpless 2nd year Hufflepuff was chasing around every time it was thrown to another boy. One of the boys yelled a foul, “mudblood!” that made the boy tear up as he reached and jumped up for his bag that was in the air every few seconds. It was nothing new to the school, Draco and his band of bullies would bother anyone who they found as an easy target just for the fun of it.

Unfortunately for Draco, you had been passing by through one of the corridors with a group of friends when you had seen the fiasco. As much as you adored your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny the sometimes nasty persona that he had and how much it bothered you. He would always swear up and down that he would stop his antics, but you often encountered him or heard from other people of him being in the same situations that he had promised would stop. 

You marched your way over to the group, a fire in your step and your eyes fixated on Draco who was laughing like a fool. You watched as Goyle rushed to elbow Draco’s side, earning him a look until he had pointed in your direction. All joy in the blond’s face quickly drained once he saw your vexed expression heading towards him.

The book bag had dropped from his hands onto the stoned courtyard ground, the young Hufflepuff hastily grabbed it and ran off in tears back into the castle. You stomped up to Draco, noticing how he had visibly swallowed in fear at what your reaction would be.

“What happened to, ‘I swear I’ll stop being a git to everyone!’” You asked him incredulously, mocking his voice as you quoted him. 

“Malfoy said that?” Blaise chuckled as if it were a joke. Both you and Draco turned to give him a frenzied look.

“Y/N, I...” Draco trailed off, looking around at his friends who were awaiting his response with smug smiles on their faces. Then he looked towards you, a hope glittering in your eyes that he would reassure you and be the sensitive boy you knew behind closed doors and away from his every day reputation. “I...”

“So you have nothing to say for yourself?” you deadpan, a scowl making its way onto your face when you realized he wasn’t going to apologize.

“Why do you care what I do to a stupid little Hufflepuff?” He snickers. Whatever hope you had left went up in flames, he had chosen his reputation.

“Because it’s mean,” you sneered. “Why would I want to be with an arse like that?”

With that, you turned on your heel, walking out of the courtyard and back to your friends where you walked to your next class without turning back to look at the group of shocked boys.

“I think you just got dumped, mate.”

“Merlin’s sake, do you ever shut up Zabini?” Draco fumed, his heart breaking at the question and his mind running a million miles per minute. He began walking towards the entrance of the castle to head into the common room, bumping shoulders aggressively with Blaise as he did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren’t sure whether or not you and the Slytherin Prince were broken up. Of course, it was the last thing you wanted but you were sick of the endless excuses and empty promises. You knew of the package deal Draco Malfoy came with when you started dating him, but there was a point when it all became too much. You were hoping in a last ditch effort, that if he genuinely really cared for you and respected your wishes, this would be the final push he needed to change.

It’s not like you were asking him to completely stop being himself. You were only asking for him to stop with the unprovoked teasing and pushing around of innocent bystanders. His friends especially, were a big reason why he continued to do it as he loved being the leader of the group and all that came with his positions as; the funniest, the most attractive and charming, the smartest, the wealthiest, the strongest. It was all just a game to him but he never saw the aftermath of his tormenting and how it could really affect someone or their day. You were like a broken record, repeating to him over and over again the same wish you had for him but he never absorbed it.

So now here you were, furiously writing your Potions essay in the library as your mind ran with thoughts of the aggravating platinum blond and nothing having to do with Calming Draught. 

“Write any harder and you’ll break your quill,” a certain timid voice said from in front of your table. You didn’t look up, already knowing it was Draco. You didn’t want to give in so easily to his intoxicating nature because the second his scared gray eyes were to meet yours, you’d melt. “Y/N, I’m sorry. For what happened in the courtyard.”

You sighed, setting down your quill and shaking your head, eyes still trained on your parchment. “It’s not just what happened in the courtyard, Draco. It’s that you do this to someone new every single day.”

“I’ve been this way all my life, I can’t just change who I am,” he argues. You finally look at him, the both of you silently seething at each other.

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Shh! Quiet down, the two of you or you will be asked to leave,” Madam Pince exclaims angrily from her desk. You turned back to Draco, hard eyes trained on him as he glared back at you with the same irritated look.

“I would just like to know why my girlfriend feels the need to suck the life out of all my fun,” he says lowly to you. Your face goes scarlet as you try to contain your wrath from being let out on the whole library, and on Draco who wouldn’t even know where to begin to handle it. But as angry as you were, it was quickly replaced with anguish and pooling tears as you thought of the main reason why you had wanted him to be nicer.

“Because your ex-girlfriend knows how it feels like to get bullied and targeted every day for no reason,” you spit sorrowfully. “I know what it’s like to live on the opposite end of what you think is fun and I promise you it’s nothing near that.”

You hurriedly grabbed all your things and rushed out of the library with tears streaming down your face as Draco only stood there feeling like the biggest most insensitive idiot and asshole in the world. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It had been a week since the incident at the library and the both of you couldn’t be any more miserable. It had gotten to the point where Draco felt ashamed and gross if he was even accidentally rude to someone, let alone on purpose. The blond boy watched you intently from his Slytherin table in the Great Hall, his friends and their conversation sounding like a distant incoherent buzzing as he focused onto your sad and defeated face and figure from afar. 

He had tried everything he could think of to get your attention, to get you to hear his apologies, but you wouldn’t give him the time of day; you refused to. You were beyond hurt. Not only because of Draco, but also because of the painful memories that had resurfaced that you spent so long trying to get over. It was all just a mess and Draco regretted everything he had said to you and everything he didn’t do for you.

“Just give it a rest, Draco,” Pansy sighs exasperated at the boy’s longing stares. “She broke up with you, stop pouting about it and move on.”

“Shut up, Pansy,” Draco sneers. “Mind your business why don’t you.”

“I’m just saying, if I was her, I would never do or say anything to ruin our relationship,” she shrugs, peering up at the frowning Slytherin through her eyelashes.

“You’re not her though, are you?” Draco snarks, his eyes squinting at her as he shoots the mean remark her way. All the surrounding boys give an “oooh” at the interaction, cackling as they watch Pansy go red in the face before abruptly standing up and leaving the table in a rush. 

Draco did the same and removed himself from the table to dart out of the Great Hall and towards an empty corridor near the courtyard where he liked to hide on an large windowsill. He had enough of his despair and enough of sitting around and doing nothing to win you back, so he got to work on something that would be his last and this time big gesture, to get you to listen.

A few hours had gone by, it was sunny and there was a nice breeze that was perfect for Draco’s plan on winning you back. He especially knew that when the weather was like this, you enjoyed sitting on a bench in the courtyard, the sun caressing your face with warmth as you read a book. 

He walked out of the corridor and towards the courtyard, and just like he knew, he spotted you sitting at your favorite bench angled towards the sun and deeply entranced in whatever book was in your lap. He took a deep breath before nearing you, stopping a few feet away to where you didn’t notice his presence just yet. His hand reached into the pocket of his robes, picking out the small and large variety of origami birds notes he had written and charmed to fly over to you and around you in a pretty and gentle circle. A bouquet of red and y/h colored flowers had appeared in his hands behind his back, all he was waiting for was for you to accept him.

You looked up from your book, eyeing all the paper birds that were fluttering around you and across the way was a frantic looking Draco with his hands hiding something behind his back. You let out a deep exhale, reaching out to grab one of the birds and unfolding the note to read his perfect cursive.

I’m sorry.

Then you grabbed another.

Please forgive me.

Then another.

You are everything to me.

And another.

I promise to change my habits.

And then the final one, the biggest bird of the bunch.

I should have listened to you from the beginning and I’m sorry I haven’t been more sympathetic. I’m also sorry that you had to go through that in your past. You are so beautiful and strong and deserve everything good in this world.

You placed your book to the side and stood up, opening your arms in a hug for Draco before he bolted towards you and enveloped you into his arms with a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he apologizes again into your hair as he nuzzled into you. He pulled back, handing you the large bouquet of flowers that made you blush as red as the roses that were mixed into the assortment. “I can’t promise you I’ll be perfect, but I swear on everything I love, I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Dray,” you chortle. “All I’m asking is for you not to be such a terrorizing little git.”

“Done,” he grins, throwing himself into your arms again as you giggled and ran your hands through his hair.

The two of you plop onto the bench below you, Draco peppering kisses all over your face in glee and gratefulness that you gave him another chance to prove himself. He didn’t even dare remove himself from you when he saw his friends strolling by, snickering and pointing to the nearly snogging couple.

“Malfoy’s gone soft!” Blaise yells across the yard, the rest of the boys laughing in response as usual like the mindless bozo’s that they were. Draco rolled his eyes, throwing them the middle finger before nuzzling himself back into your embrace.

[deluluass]

Attention

Since requests are open again, can i request a yan!bokuto developing a crush with one of the other teams' managers during their training camp? 👀             

for: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​. hi bestie 😔 this is late (again), but i hope u like it 😍

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; underage drinking; (slight) sub!Bokuto👀; mild footplay

Three minutes. 

Three minutes and forty-five seconds, to be exact, before the truth came for you like a ball careening towards your blindside: 

  You’re not supposed to be here .

  Granted, the thought had already slinked its way into your brain ever since you’d overheard the coach crying on his phone, his wife on the other side of the line, that if he hadn't groveled and appealed to his college friend’s sense of honor, as he’d sniffled, they wouldn’t have even considered the team ( your team) to be worthy of receiving an invitation to this training camp. 

  Ignoring the worries that came after that was supposed to be easy. It shouldn’t have come at all . It’s irrational and it doesn’t help anyone. What was the point in fretting? Your boys are more than deserving— more than capable in fact —of going toe to toe with some of Tokyo’s best. 

  It’s also a given that those people don’t know anything about your team. You do live in a town half a day’s ride away from the capital. And how could you expect city folk to recognize a team that hails from a place where the cows outnumber the people three to one?

  They’re bound to not know.

  But the needless unease stayed and soon took a life of its own, the weight of it becoming heavier and heavier over the course of the weeks that you waited for that dreaded day, like a hungry beast that you diligently fed with your little what-if’s. 

  What if that place eats us alive?

  What if they make fun of us? 

  What if, despite trying our hardest, all we do is lose? 

  What if these people take a single look at us and think that we’re not good enough?

  What if they’re right?

  The deep chasm on the scoreboard tells you exactly that, plain and without a hint of artifice.

  Shinzen High has already scored five points. 

  Your team is still stuck at zero.

  And the clock continues to tick.

  “Chance ball!” 

  Your captain's voice was feeble against the noise of the ball being passed from one hand to another. 

  Odd, that. 

  Itsuki's not the type to pull his punches. Especially in the middle of a game; always one to use his entire chest when launching back at his enemies with a guttural roar.

  You looked at the players standing on your side of the court— really looked at them, in a way that you should have instead of wasting your time entertaining those doubts— and found nary a trace of your teammates among those too-stiff, too-quiet boys that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bunch of rabbits caught in the headlights.  

  A chuckle erupted from your chest, surprising even you.

  "Something funny?" the coach asked, his glance turning wary when you convulsed in a fit of shrill giggles. 

  "Yeah," you told him, shaking your head. “There is, Coach.”

  From the bored expressions on your opponents’ faces to Shigeru’s (failed) attempt to set for Koyama, all the way to an audience that wasn’t even looking, who were, frankly, much more interested in what's on their phones than what’s in front of them. 

  How can you not find this funny?

  You were worried about... this ? 

  You sighed, your head the clearest that it’s ever been in a long while, and stood from your seat on the bench. 

  The coach called out your name in a harsh whisper. You ignored him, not even bothering to explain yourself. After all, you’ve already spent too much of your energy on the wrong things. 

  And so, in the most polite way that you could, you shouted:

  “Hey! What the fuck is this!”

  Everyone might've gawked; the coach may have pulled you back to the bench with a strength that you didn’t know he possessed. There’s something much more important than being respectable, though. 

  “None of us ever cared about what these assholes think!” you pressed on, staring down at Takami, whose dad never fails to remind him that he’ll waste away his life fooling around with that useless club . “So, why,” you ask with a clear voice, “Why are we starting now?!”

  Of course, just like any of your spur of the moment ideas, that hadn’t ended the way you hoped it would.

  They still lost (they also did in the following game). All of the coaches (including yours and excluding the one from Nekoma High; that one just patted your back) had expressed their disapproval over what you did. You couldn’t regret it, however, no matter how humiliating their rebukes made you feel.

  Because you don’t think you’ve seen any of your teammates look the least bit happy since you set foot into this place. But, now— even with the fact that all they've achieved so far is keep the floors clean with their diving laps— now, they do.

  With that, it seems to you then that this place isn’t so bad, after all.

A day.

  A day and ten hours, approximately, had already passed when Bokuto felt your presence acutely like the stinging red imprint a hurtled ball leaves on his skin. And just like the circumstances that lead to that bloodied, angry marking, you made your existence known with just as much force as a player spiking for the kill. 

  Some of them guffawed, out of disbelief and sheer delight both, because in all the years that they’ve trained together in preparation for the interhigh, they don’t think anyone has ever called them a bunch of “assholes” before.

  They didn’t think much about that new team that arrived too late. So, yeah, Bokuto wanted to laugh, too, just like others. ‘ What a way to make an impression, huh?’ he wanted to say.

  That wasn’t what he said, though. 

  Bokuto wasn’t even able to say anything. 

  He was too busy staring at your mouth, the resoluteness in your lips as if you knew exactly what to say; the way you looked at your teammates, like there was nobody else more astounding, more unbeatable at this game than the boys before you (though, surely, even you can see that they’re far from being any of those things). 

  And yet, there you were, your eyes incandescent; they might as well have been on fire, blazing with so much awe and unshakable faith and it was so clear for everyone to witness and— and Bokuto did not know what to do with it. 

  It was so embarrassing, truth be told. Bokuto may not be the most secretive guy around, but when the others eventually pointed out that he looked scared at the thought of facing them ( you ), he just couldn’t help but sulk.

  “We’re not half the cheerleader she is, Bokuto-san,” Yukie teased him, patting his shoulder as she did, “but rest easy, we’ll try our best to boost morale.”

  He just groaned, immediately locking his legs at a stand still when the others hooted, ‘Look at him! He looks like he’s about to piss himself bouncing his legs like that . ’ Really, what was he supposed to say?

  Because, when he finally faced your team with that net in between and as he felt the ball against his palms when he aimed for a clean hit towards the floor, it’s not even fear that rushes through him. 

  Not even close.

  Beyond the defeated faces, of the exhaustion slathered all over your team’s barks after each point he snatched under their noses, Bokuto saw you looking at him. 

  Just a flicker; a passing peek before that determined gaze settled back on the others. But it was there all the same: the pause in your breath as the ball detonated against your teammate’s frail arms, clutching the edge of the bench with your fingers as if it took everything in you to keep yourself from running towards the court.

  To rush towards him. 

  To— to what ? Exactly? To scream at his face the same way you did earlier? That he's going too rough and hurting your precious friends?

  There’s a part of him that wishes to stop. A strange, alien feeling that he supposes comes from the discomfort at the sight of you so troubled and wound up.

  Oh, but you're just starting to understand! 

  That if there's someone who's truly astounding, unbeatable, and staggeringly brilliant at this game, it's him . And Bokuto wanted to drive that point home like he's never wanted anything else in his entire life. 

  His body stopped feeling like his own by the second set. 

  His legs were too light to be his, like there were coil springs underneath his feet that carried him higher and higher he swore he could brush the roof with his fingertips. 

  There’s a thrumming in his flesh that propelled Bokuto to move faster, to push that ache over the edge until there’s nothing left but the breathless exhilaration of seeing his opponents kiss the ground.

  The air is getting thinner, like he’s scaling towards a mountain top as he sprints towards the other side of the court, long strides eating up the floor, uncaring for the sweat pouring down his cheeks.

  Bokuto was willing to let this thing go on forever and ever and ever , for as long as he feels the searing heat of your eyes on him.

  Until he turned his head in your direction. 

  You were smiling at something a spectator said. 

  He couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was it had pushed you to make a teasing remark to your team.

  A banter ensued.

  The referee blew his whistle as a warning.

  You giggled.

  Why?

  “The ball, Bokuto!”

  Why aren’t you looking? 

  His hands were two weights keeping him down, made heavier by that sinking sensation in his chest.

  When did you stop looking? 

  It was too much, too unbearable that he could cry. The indifferent way you'd removed him from your line of sight was a sucker punch that's not as painful as the shame it leaves him with.

  Were you even looking at all? 

  And he wonders with a shuddering exhale as he finally gathered the strength to raise an arm, Bokuto wonders what would happen if, just this once, he shot the ball towards y— 

  “Bokuto-san.”

  Akaashi was calling out to him.

  “Bokuto-san, we already won."

  The ball within his grasp dropped. 

  Bokuto watched it bounce on the floor until it rolled over to somebody else's waiting palm.

  He took a deep breath— in and then out, repeated it until everything came into sharp focus —and raised his head to squint at the scoreboard.

  22-3

  So they did.

  The other side of the court was already empty, your team assembled to one corner; you were out of sight.

  Everyone started to gather around him.

  They took Bokuto along with their cheers and reprimands and accusations, like a strong current that carried him from the bench to the shower room, laughing as they handed him a towel, having noticed that he’d been too out of it to do anything else but stay half-naked in front of the sink. 

  “Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” he heard Akaashi ask over the teeming excitement surrounding them. 

  Blinking, Bokuto paused from wiping his bare torso as he replied, “Me?”

  Their setter only nodded.

  “Yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, a tad louder than he ought to. “Yeah, dude! Of course! Never been better!”

  “You were a man possessed," Masaki, still fresh from the shower, suddenly drawled from behind him. 

  “You were... quiet,” Ubugawa’s captain continued, reaching for the toothpaste laid next to Akaashi. “It was unlike you.”

  Bokuto was about to say something, somewhere along the lines of “Really? I didn’t notice” when Daiki made his decision to wring the wet shirt in his hand, brandish it like a belt, and strike Bokuto’s back with it, the impact cutting across the room. 

  “You little..!” Bokuto turned with a snarl, poised and ready to throw the boy over his shoulder.

  “Let it go, let it go,” Daiki chortled, grabbing Bokuto by his damp hair. “That’s for not giving us a warning, alright? Crazy bastard.”

  Daiki shook his head as he walked away. “Never seen the idiot go hard like that,” he mumbled.

  “That’s our ace for ‘ya!” Haruki echoed from his cubicle, to which the others responded with wolfish howls and sharp whistles, completely transforming the shower room into a tiled rainforest. 

  And Bokuto wanted to join along, because although the game still felt like an abrupt, fever dream, he’s well aware that he did something that he’s going to be proud of in the days to come. But somehow— for some unknown, beguiling reason, all he could do was stand there and make himself vulnerable to Kuroo’s antics.

  The Nekoma captain looked at Bokuto through the mirror, clicking his tongue before lamenting about “ those poor country boys ” and their “ ill luck ”.

  “Go easy on us small fries sometimes,” he added. “You were pretty scary back there.”

  Kuroo gave his nape a quick pat before he went for the lockers, leaving Bokuto to stare at his reflection, features obscured by the fog.

  Scary , he said.

  Scary, huh.

  A man possessed.

  Bokuto wonders about its meaning, what coach had meant earlier when he’d jokingly called him a beast. He contemplated what about him had led them to think that way, tried his best to be perceptible of any changes.

  His eyes were the same, although the pupils in the middle were large pools of tar, widened and leaving only the slightest space for the honeyed rim. 

  His hair was the same platinum color and still streaked with the same black lines, although untamed and in a disarray this time, with the strands sticking to his forehead. 

  Although flushed, his face was the same, over all.

  Everything seems to be right where they’re supposed to be.

  Although he’s huffing and puffing, creating more mist to cloud the mirror with. And when he tried to reach for the glass, he realized that his fingers were still trembling. His blood still surging as if his body had never left the court. 

  Then, it struck him.

  Bokuto holds his breath in anticipation, the truth of it right in front of him.

  There’s no monster here. 

  No man possessed either.

  Only a guy who’s helplessly, foolishly in love.

Announcing to an entire room of strangers that one is of the opinion that they're assholes, as it happened, was an effective way of making new friends.

  Of course, there was that awkward day-long explanation that you had to do for Yuki and Kaori and the others. An affair that wasn’t too different from a one-woman press conference that involved you expressing your regrets, revealing that, sometimes, when backed against a wall, you can be an impulsive clown with a glaring lack of filter (like: "No, no..! I didn't think you guys were actually- you know- ass- it just spilled-" and "Ah, geez, this is embarrassing.The heat was getting to me. I didn't mean it, really!" )

  But the girls had been kind enough to let bygones be bygones, assuring you that all they ever felt was a joyous combination of relief and wonder. Ubugawa's manager, Eri, (who'd shook your hand while holding back tears) even told you that seeing another girl in a veritable sausage fest that is the training camp was a miracle in itself. 

  "It was fun, actually," Mako once said when the two of you were assigned to carrot chopping duty. "You gave us something to talk about for a while."

  And even when the novelty of being a bumpkin with the mouth of a sailor soon faded, the bond that quickly bloomed between you and the other managers hadn't.

  It was unexpected, although not unwelcome.

  You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. How silly you'd been: coming into the city expecting a den of wolves and hunters armed to the teeth.

  In the span of two days thoughts of survival were replaced by the confidence that your boys would pull through; by a sense of ease that you didn't need to win all the time and that this place is not a battlefield, but a fertile ground for growth and learning. You didn't need to constantly be on your guard— knuckles up and gearing for a fight, you realized.

  Well — 

  For the most part, at least.

  Serving spoon in one hand and potholder in another, you reluctantly paused from preparing your team’s meal to whisper under your breath. "He's doing it again," you hissed.

  Kaori only gave you a preoccupied “hm?” as she plucked the ladle to fill the plain white ceramic bowls before her. “Who is?” she continued. 

  “Your captain,” you replied, taking care not to let him know that you're on the verge of melting under his not so subtle scrutiny.

  The lovely Fukurodani manager didn’t even miss a beat; without lifting her eyes away from the food, she raised her voice, just loud enough, to address the creature (spying) standing idly by the door. 

  “Say, Bo-kun,” Kaori called out and you watched, amazed, as he coughed out the water that he’s been making a great show of drinking. “Your mama must not have taught you that it's bad to ogle.”

  Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s ace and captain— a volleyball player that sits atop everybody else in this training camp, whose name is almost always followed by “one of the very best in the country”— quailed as his manager, the Great Kaori Suzumeda, blessed him with a smile veering on beatific. 

  “Oh-who-me?” he prattled, hands pointing at everything and nothing as he choked on his own words. “Didn’t see you there! What’s up! I was just passing by!”

  “In the middle of practice?” Kaori snickered. “ You ?” 

  The boy released a laughter that resonated in the empty cafeteria. 

  She sighed, dropping the ladle, and told him to “Just go, Bokuto.” He obediently complied, thank the gods, but not without an overzealous goodbye to Kaori, as if he’d never see her again when lunch was just half an hour away.

  He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t need to, anyway. The lingering gaze that he directed towards you was enough.

  “Thank you,” you exhaled once you made sure you’re no longer within his earshot, plopping your head against Kaori’s soft arm.

  Her chuckle fluttered towards you, causing you to smile as she asked, “Is it that bad?”

  You could only nod, both as an affirmation and an effort to shake those golden, hawk-eyes out of your system.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the firmness in her voice making you stand upright and level with her.

  Common decency tells you that you should say no, to stop her and tell her that she didn’t really have to; that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. But, you’d never really been one to listen to what that part of your brain dictates.

  Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a light squeeze, incapable of doing anything else to convey your gratitude with a sob lodged in your throat.

  “He’s not a bad guy, our Bokuto,” Kaori soothed. “And for what it’s worth, he’s never been like this with someone he likes.”

  A grin lit up her face as you snorted, remembering the time someone had finally caught on to Bokuto’s newfound fixation. The uproar that it’d cause in the field when everyone was out enjoying slices of ripe watermelon. The unnecessary and, frankly, embarrassing anger that it’d pulled out of your boys after it's been revealed to the whole world. The infamous blush on Bokuto Kotaro’s face as he desperately tried to deny the accusation. 

  And the cold, spent feeling it left you.

  “Normally, he’d be all over them,” she continued, mimicking his owl-like way of moving, bobbing her head to and fro as she circled around you.

  “Kaori!” you squealed, pushing her playfully by the shoulder. 

  “Bokuto would be like—” Kaori pumped her fists in the air, “ Hey, hey, hey! Talk to me! Talk to me! Compliment me! Love me! ”

  You simply hummed, folding your arms against your chest as you commended her spot-on performance. 

  She didn’t need to tell you all that, though. The guy had a personality so big it’s a miracle how this city contains him. And you’d known from the very beginning that Bokuto Kotaro doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole “pining from a distance” thing. 

  But, they even said that he’s half in love with you already, with the way he follows you with his eyes and flails and stutters and acts like he’s never had a mouth and a pair of hands before whenever he’s around you. And that, somehow, he plays even better than he already does when you’re in the audience ( especially when it’s against your team). 

  You don’t bother to correct them and say that no, this might not be a silly little crush.

  Because you don’t think that anyone but you would understand that there can never be any love nor infatuation in a stare that traps you with its expectations. Even if you did tell them that, you’re the only one who knows what Bokuto’s gaze really makes you feel like: A plaything that he’s been gifted to and was told would sing and dance for him just so he’d stop crying. 

  And you know what temperamental children do with toys that don’t work the way they want it to, don’t you?

  “Trust me.”

  Kaori’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

  “He’s just an idiot,” she told you. “You’ve seen him— especially last week!” Kaori’s eyes bulged out, leaning closer to you, both of you gasping at the memory.

  Tears sprung out of your eyes as you laughed harder, your stomach aching when Kaori began to recount the events that had turned the entire training camp on its head, forever planting itself in its history as the worst ordeal it’s ever faced:

  A piece of the wall in the girls’ sleeping room broke off, revealing a large, Lovecraftian nest of cockroaches. 

  “If you’d only seen his face!” Kaori cackled, struggling to finish as she clutched onto you for support. “He burs- bursted into the room only for him to- to-”

  “Pass out when a roach flew to his nose! I know !” you screeched and slapped the table with her, ignoring that you’re almost knocking over the food and chortling until you were close to having a heart attack.

  “Oh- oh , I can’t breathe,” she groaned. Your laughter tapered off into heaving as you fixed her mussed bangs. 

  You smiled. 

  “See,” Kaori finally said, pinching your chin a little. “Bokuto’s a meathead. Just a meathead. Guy can’t get a clue. But he’ll come around once he realizes that he’s being weird.”

  “Yeah,” you murmured, giving her a weak nod. "I'm sure he will."

  You didn't know if you meant to say that with a hint of irony; if that scared farm girl is rearing her ugly head again and pointing a pitchfork at a monster of her own making.

  A monster that, you're convinced, would do something more than just look once you're within its reach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

  Bokuto even had it all figured out in his head. C’mon, he's got the looks, doesn't he? And he's not lacking in charm. In fact, he's oozing with it! That's why Bokuto had expected that he had this one in the bag. His game plan was foolproof: 

  Talk to the girl. Get the girl.

  After that, you’d be together for the rest of your lives and your fiery, unrelenting support for that lousy team of yours would never go in vain ever again. Because it’d all be directed to him. All that “ Good job! ” and “ You were amazing back there! ” and “ Don’t be scared! I’ll be right here rooting for you! ” would finally be given to someone who actually deserves it.

  All you had to do was see what he had to offer and baby— oh baby , how you'd love him. No force on Earth could have prevented Bokuto from making you his.

  So it's all the more sobering now that Bokuto’s witnessed that the said force turned out to be him of all people. And what he could actually give you was a few stumbling lines and compliments that didn't even make any sense (“ Y-your face smells nice ” for example)— all (preferably) uttered a few feet away from you. 

  The others teased him for looking like a jilted witch casting a spell on an indifferent lover. “What are you? Speaking in tongues or something? Is the Great Horned Owl that desperate?” they poked at him. He didn’t mind them before, but now he’s not so sure.

  " Tone it down, okay? " Kaori had reminded him again earlier this afternoon. That stern talking-to from their manager was an ice-cold bucket of water that doused what’s left of his optimism. 

  But, tone what down? What , exactly, is left to tone down?

  He couldn’t even talk to you without losing his ability to string coherent words together, let alone get close to you. Eye contact, too, he’d deliberately restrained himself from doing (if only you knew how much this is hurting him!) and not just because he’d been deemed a complete and utter creep. 

  Bokuto couldn’t look you in the eye ever since that incident.

  “ She’s helping the other girls carry their stuff to the other room, I saw them just now ,” Yamamoto had discreetly passed on as soon as he woke up from a terrible concussion. “And if you want to redeem yourself, my friend, after that humiliating performance, you’d better go out there and lend a hand. ”

  Because Yamamoto, being the love expert that he proclaimed he was, told him, “ Look, I feel for you. But it’s simple. You just gotta show her what you’re made of. That you’re a man she can depend upon, ” Bokuto then persevered to follow through.

  Only for him to be met by an empty room with bits of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. And your bag in the furthest corner just...lying there.

  Maybe you’d forgotten about it. Maybe you were too busy catering to your friends' needs that you'd forgotten about yourself.

  Either way, Bokuto promises that it wasn’t on purpose. 

  Bokuto had good intentions, really! He just wanted to take the bag with him so he could give it to you, is all! It wasn’t his fault that some of your stuff was peeking through the half-opened zipper. It’d already been in that state when he saw it. 

  And- and it’s not his fault that he adores you too much. 

  Bokuto reminds himself as much as he propped his forehead against the bathroom wall, water from the shower pouring against the taut muscles on his back as he wrapped your underwear around his cock. 

  The baby pink fabric, every inch of it soiled now over the days that he's used it, rubbed  against his balls when he began fondling them, his other hand caressing his nipples, rubbing and pinching at the peaks until they stiffened between his calloused fingers.

  His cock grew hard and heavy in his hand as he started pumping into his fist, fucking your soaked panties until precum dripped from slit.

  And with nobody else in the shower room, Bokuto allowed himself to grunt and curse and call out your name, digging his nails into his skin until it stung and made him want to cry.

  "Make me cum, princess," he whined, shutting his eyes to watch you on your knees, fingers between your legs as you looked up at him, never taking your eyes off of him even as you took his cock down your throat.

  "Please, please ," Bokuto groaned,"Please let me cum."

  Here, you don't turn away nor brush him off without even saying anything. Here, you call him your baby and you chuckle as you ask him, " Good boys deserve to cum, don't they? "

  He bit his lip, pressing his cheek against the freezing tile. "Mmhmm, I-I've been-" Bokuto moaned, feeling himself creep closer and closer, the pleasure at the pit of his stomach building, "I've been so fucking good for you."

  The contrast of your pretty little underwear around the thick veins of his cock made his head spin. And as he squeezed his shaft tighter, Bokuto knew that he did, in fact, deserve so much more.

  Because he's endured so much just for you. Now, it's time to get what he's due. 

Scouring high and low for a pair of cotton panties that have seen better days wasn’t how you wished you’d celebrate the last night with your newfound friends. 

  Yuki had advised that you abandon the ratty, old thing (though you did say it wasn't; ratty, that is) and leave it here as a parting gift— a mark of your impact on their lives, if you will— but you’d quickly laughed her off and set out to find it. She was drunk, anyway.

  Although, so were you. If not, then just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, bit tipsy.

  You hiccuped, giggling as the sound echoed through the poorly-lit hallway. The world was spinning beneath you and you prayed that it wasn’t worse for poor Yuki, having chugged half of that horrid concoction. 

  Kaori almost threw her out of the window after that stunt. Mako scoffed at her for being an arrogant ass. The girls who weren’t drinking sat back and chose to enjoy the unfolding chaos (while also being kind enough to be on the lookout).

  And you...well...right now you’re on the verge of breaking down as you make your way to the shower room. 

  Mostly because you’re just realizing that you might never see them again if your team doesn’t survive the Inter High. Partly because you’ve been dumb enough to not notice that you’ve been missing an underwear for a couple of days now. 

  God, it's so ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You're glad that you went on your own and rejected their offer to accompany you. Imagine if they saw you like this:

  Oscillating between sobs and strained laughter while swaying on your feeble legs; the very picture of a lunatic out in the streets in the middle of the night.

  You only hoped that you're not scaring the living daylights out of that guy who probably just went out of the boys' room to pee. Maybe you have already spooked him, with how still he's gotten.

  Cupping your palms around your mouth, you saw fit to save his sanity and cried, "Heyyyy! I'm not- hic - a ghost!" 

  "Oh!" you gasped, raising a pointing finger to shush yourself, "Oh, yeah, sorry, shhh-" 

  He didn't run the other way screaming and crying, which was good, instead he approached you hurriedly, making you squint to get a better look at him.

  "Koyama?" you whispered, struggling to recognize the tall boy with a sturdy build, his navy blue hoodie casting a shadow on his face. It didn't help that your eyes were doing something funny, as if they were busted camera lenses that went uncontrollably in and out of focus.

  "Good evening, my dear! I daresay you're looking quite bur- burl- blurry tonight."

  You cackled, immediately following your greeting with a slurred apology.

  "Why- Why are you still- um- up?" he asked. And before you could volley him with a question pointing to his weirdly different voice, he brought his head down to sniff at you. "Wait- have you b- are you drunk ?"

  "What! No! Of course not!" You pouted and airily slapped his cheek, drawing a lopsided grin out of you when his skin glowed pink, bright enough to light up the entire place. It was so remarkably adorable that it made you squeal and pinch both cheeks, rocking his face as you did.

  "Look at our big boy!" A sheepish, almost disbelieving chuckle shook his large chest as you resumed your baby talk, your grabby hands bringing his face towards you.  "Who would've thought that our stwong, wowdy ace could bwush wike so? And what's with this siwwy hoodie, huh? Where did you get this, bunnycakes? I've never seen you wear this before!"

  You wondered, also, why and how his jet black hair turned pallidly gray over the few hours you hadn't seen him. You even brushed the mildly damp locks out of his forehead, unsure if they're even real as you tried to right your smudged vision.

  And you wanted to blame it all on the alcohol.

  It's the reason for that dramatic change in his tone and manner of speaking and hair color and...those eyes .

  The very same pair that followed you everywhere, sometimes even in your sleep.

  "You love me, after all," he breathed, the statement a thin sheet of glass that could blow into smithereens at just the wrong response.

  That had been enough to drain the inebriation out of your body. Like being branded, you pulled away from Bokuto with a harsh curse.

  "I- I have to go," you said. "Sorry, I thought you were Ko- my teammate."

  But Bokuto had already laid hold of your arm with no intent of letting go.

  "Stay!" Bokuto called out, repeating it with please and listen despite your outcries, shouting for Kaori and Yuki and Mako and Shigeru and Takami and Coach and Koyoma and anyone, help me, anyone.

  Until he tugged you to his chest, wrapping himself around you and turning his entire body into a concrete prison as he fervently told you, "I love you. I love you so much ever since the first time I saw you and I know, I know you feel the same so if it's the distance that's keeping you from me I can come to you I'll follo-"

  "Nothing's keeping me from jackshit!" you gritted out. "I don't love you! I don't even care about you!"

  He didn't say anything to that. 

  Bokuto had gone quiet. It wasn't only until he nuzzled your neck, pressing his face snugly down the crook, that you decided to kick him with all your strength, breaking yourself free as your heart thundered out of your chest.

  You didn't look back.

  You dashed through the long, endless hallway with the air in your lungs dangerously running low and keeping you from screaming.

  But the remnants of the alcohol were lead that weighed your feet to the ground, betraying you further by morphing your surroundings into a hazy, dizzying scape. You teetered and wobbled, desperate to reach that staircase that will lead you out of this floor, but each step that you took was not fast enough, not nimble enough, as if you’re wading through knee-deep water. 

  And before you know it the monster has caught up and is ready to pounce from right behind you.

  “Get your hands off me!” you wailed as Bokuto heaved you by the waist and carried you over his shoulder. 

  The sudden upending of your world was so nauseating, you didn’t even notice that he’d already taken you to an almost pitch black classroom, its heavy curtains drawn together and the empty chairs and tables pushed to the side. 

  His large, sprawling hand was gripping your ass, your stomach lurching when you felt him caress it. Yet that didn’t deter you from hitting whichever part of him that your knuckles and feet could touch, ignoring the trail of your own spit that dripped on your face as you howled and thrashed and fought to keep yourself together because no one was hearing you.

  What’s left for you, now? Your captor was so strong, much stronger than you, that even when he tripped on his toes, Bokuto was able to catch himself and drop you on the nearest table in just a single breath. 

  “Stop fighting me..!” he panted, holding you down as he knelt before you. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I- ow! Don’t-”

  Bokuto’s grip on your wrists was unbudgeable. So, you didn’t miss the chance to bite him when he covered your mouth with his palm. Teeth chattering, you broke the tough flesh, sunk them sharply until the taste of salt and iron flooded your tongue.

  You expected that it would push him away. Give you the leverage to escape.

  That turned out to be a mistake.

  His honey-gold eyes glinted as he stared deep into yours. Every hair on your body stood on end when the corners of his lips slowly lifted, eyes still fixed on you as he released a bubbly, childlike laughter.

  “I've always wanted to do this to you," he sighed giddily. 

  The helplessness chipped at your insides bit by torturous bit when all you could do was rock the table with your flailing, while Bokuto had already crouched lower— low enough to pull the hem of your thin shorts with his teeth.   

  He watched you weep with a sickening display of dejection, like he's some dog that's been shoved around by his master.

  "Please don't cry," Bokuto whined, peppering soft kisses all over the insides of your thighs then licking off the beads of sweat that covered the goosebumps. 

  You’re not giving up. 

  You couldn’t give up.

  You pushed and gnawed and tore skin that you’re sure every inch of his palm is littered with fresh bruises, but this only seemed to encourage Bokuto, drawing out his drugged out moans as he spat on your clothed cunt, drool leaking down to your folds before he lapped at the wet spot. The moistened fabric scratched and rubbed against your clit to the point of quivering and writhing in his clutch. 

  “Oh, I know , baby,” Bokuto murmured, using the tip of his tongue to flick at the swollen nub. “I’ll make you feel real good soon.”

  Shaking your head, the unwiped tears gathering around your eyelids dropped to his long, calloused fingers. And you wanted to screech, to tell him to go to hell as he swirled his tongue all over your embarrassingly slick hole.

  No, you wanted more than that. 

  You wanted to drive your bare hands into his chest.

  But that’s not what you did, is it?

  When Bokuto finally removed his hand from your mouth, what slipped past your lips wasn’t the sound of a woman ready to kill. Instead, you sounded like a little girl begging to be carried home. And that hadn’t been the part that scared you, really.

  It was the fact that no matter how much you tried to scream, nothing was coming out.

  “L-let me go,” you wheezed, your voice cracking. “Or- or else.”

  “Or else?” Bokuto replied, eliciting a gasp from you as he sniffed your throbbing, wet cunt. “Look at me, princess.”

  “ Look at me ,” he repeated pleadingly, frustration giving his tone a rough edge, as he brought the hand that once suppressed your attempts to call for help to skim past your thigh and stroke the sole of your feet. “Just this once. See me.”

  You kept your eyes closed, even as he kissed your toes and brought it down to his crotch, forcing you to dig your heel into the bulge jutting out. He rocked his hips, gyrating slowly, his cock hardening under your feet, as he whimpered into your leg.

  “Please, please fuck me, please ,” Bokuto mewled. “I’ll do any- anything for you.”

  Profanities rushed out of you, but no one could hear them. Not even you. Perhaps that's why he didn’t flinch when he lugged you down to straddle on his lap.

  “Use me, baby,” he whispered, grinning wide as he snaked his other hand to your back and dug his nails around your nape, laying on his back and taking you with him as he did, your tits crushed to his chest. 

  With your arms dying in his grip, Bokuto easily stripped his pants along with his boxers. Violent trembles wracked your body as he dragged your pussy along his thick shaft, back and forth, your damp panties riding up every time he thrusted upwards.

  His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine as he giggled lowly, “Wanna cum inside you so fucking bad . Will you let me, hm? Please let me.”

  Of course you didn’t want to. It’s not like you’d stop struggling, either. It’s just that Bokuto would never listen to you. Even when he whimpered and babbled, “You don’t want to- fuck, your pussy’s all nice and wet - oh, you don’t want to? That's okay, that’s okay, baby,” Bokuto still slipped his cock inside your underwear.

  It slid past your lips up to your clit. And you’d never hated yourself more in your entire life when all you could do was stay limp and cry as the fat tip finally nudged your twitching hole.

  “No, no, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck, “It’s just the head- just the head.”

  As Bokuto groaned and rutted against you, all you wished for, in that moment, was for dawn to peek through the curtains and signal the end of this torment. But, still it went on with Bokuto stretching you open.

  And as he split you in half, you detachedly realized that you were right.

  This place did eat you alive.

[new-sandrafilter]

How Timothée Chalamet Channeled The Blockbuster Pressure of Leading Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ Back Into His Role – Venice Q&A

DEADLINE: In a few days Dune will premiere at the Venice Film Festival. You first met Denis Villeneuve about the role in May 2018 and started shooting in the early half of 2019. It was always going to be a long journey, but the pandemic stretched it even further. How does it feel to have finally arrived at this moment?

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET: You know, I like to think that with every film I’ve done, whether it’s Call Me by Your Name or Beautiful Boy, The King, or Little Women, the character you play is almost a piece of your flesh. And that’s always true, but simply from the perspective of how long the shoot for Dune was, and also the arc that Paul Atreides is on, as well as the huge love and almost biblical connection that so many people have for the book and the original film, it really felt… tectonic, if that’s the right word for it. Just getting to this finish line feels like: phew.

And independent of what the film is now, and what it has become, the experience of making it was I was put in such a safe environment, which you can never take for granted as a human, as an actor, but especially when you’re just starting your career, and when this is the first film of this size you’ve ever done.

To get to work with Denis on it, to get to work with someone of his caliber, let alone on a book that he considers the book of his youth and one of the things he has connected to the most… When he would have it in his hands on set, his body language would become that of a fan; of a kid who had fallen in love with the book at home in Montreal. And when all the kids around him were wearing hockey jerseys with their favorite players’ names on the back, this was a kid wearing a jersey that said ‘Spielberg’ on the back.

For it all to come together, especially with the added challenge of the pandemic, it has all combined to make this moment feel especially spicy [laughs].

DEADLINE: The entire ensemble will show up in Venice.

CHALAMET: Right. And I just can’t believe it; Jason Momoa has the number one film on Netflix right now with Sweet Girl, which I just watched. And since we shot, Zendaya has had all this success with Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. Just to be part of this cast, period, let alone as one of the title characters, it’s really the shit you dream of.

And let me not forget, too—and I know I’ve told you this before—that The Dark Knight was the movie that made me want to act. That movie had a score by Hans Zimmer, and he has done the score for Dune. And it’s almost not what you’d think. It’s totally appropriate and excellent for the movie, but he has somehow managed to do something subversive, in my opinion. It’s a pinch-me moment all over.

DEADLINE: So, take me back to the start. Is it true you had a Google alert set up to track the latest news on this project before you were ever cast?

CHALAMET: Yeah, it’s true [laughs]. Not right away—Legendary had the rights and was developing it—but as soon as Denis got involved, I set up a Google alert and that’s when I got the book.

In total honesty, I think my understanding of Dune at that point was from a graphic novel I’d seen at Midtown Comics when I was shopping for Yu-Gi-Oh! cards when I was about 10. The year you and I first met, when I was there at Deadline Contenders with Call Me by Your Name, that would have been 2017 or early 2018, and Denis was there with Blade Runner. I remember I was trying to put myself in front of him as much as possible and set up a meeting with him. We had a night at the BAFTA where one of my good friends, Stéphane Bak—who’s also an actor—saw Denis across the room and was like, “Hey buddy, he’s right over there.” So, we went over to talk to him. I kept trying to put myself in front of him, but I didn’t really get a sense of the possibility [of working with him].

I was about halfway through the book when I got the call that he was going to be the president of the jury at the Cannes Film Festival, and I was in London prepping The King. He asked me if I could come out there, so I quickly busted through the second half of the book as best I could. So, like, the first half of my copy is properly annotated and full of my thoughts, and then the second half I just raced through. And then I had that meeting with him, and it was such a joy.

I’m struggling with this even now, as I’m working with Paul King [on Wonka], because he’s another guy I have huge respect and admiration for, and it’s hard to feel on a level. Not that you ever are, because as an actor you’re a cog in the machine, and you’ve got to be humble to the vision of the director. But with Denis, he was pacing around the room, throwing ideas around, in some fancy suite in Cannes, and all I could think was that a year before I was just sat on a stoop on 9th Street in the East Village or something.

DEADLINE: Was that your first time in Cannes?

CHALAMET: Yeah. Well, bizarrely, my sister would do dance camps growing up. Ballet intensive programs in a town called Mougins, which is nearby Cannes, so I spent a lot of time there growing up, but never during the festival, and not on the Riviera. To get to be there for the festival was just nuts. I went to see the Romain Gavras movie, I think, and it was just a huge joy.

I got attached [to the role in Dune] a couple of months after that, and it was nerve-wracking from the announcement, because like I said before, the fans of the book, and the fans of David Lynch version, the computer game, and everything, there’s so much love and strength of feeling. And so much of our pop culture and films and books have been derived from Dune, and all the philosophy the book. I’ve been shocked to learn how many people have a next-level connection to the book. I compare it to how our generation grew up with Harry Potter, and that one makes sense to me. But it’s cool to see with Dune also, when you actually sit down and read it… It’s not that it’s a quote-unquote “hard read” or anything, but it’s not made to be consumed easily, I think that’s fair to say.

So, I was grateful to be working on something of this size not only with Denis Villeneuve leading it, who between Polytechnique, Incendies and Prisoners had nailed the smaller indie film across languages, and then had nailed Arrival and Blade Runner, but who, in his own words, he didn’t feel he’d made his greatest film yet. But also, to be working with this cast. I don’t know if there’s some nightmare version of a film where a young lead is not supported by the rest of his cast, where every one of them had been the leads in their own huge projects. But on this, everyone was there to support, and I think it’s because we all wanted to be foot soldiers for Denis, and I think we understood the potential, based on the script by Eric Roth, Jon Spaihts and Denis, that this could be something really special.

DEADLINE: I don’t have a connection to Dune; this movie is really my first experience of the story. What strikes me is this is clearly an enormous universe—a broad canvas being painted with various families and factions and politics and mythos—but that ultimately it comes down to very elemental, human themes, and we feel them through this character you play, Paul Atreides. Did those themes help ground the experience for you?

CHALAMET: Yes, and I would give the credit entirely to Denis. He would constantly say on set that he had some opposing drumbeat or something. In my diminished intellectual standing, I didn’t understand it, but it was like some vision for the movie based on how biblical the book is that tries to tackle so much that it doesn’t tackle anything. I think he felt the need to be close to a character in it, and Paul is that guy in the book. He’s a character that is still in formation, like a lump of clay, which makes him a great figure for the audience to mirror off.

It speaks, I think, to Denis’ premonition and his directing ability that there were times when we’d move on from a shot or move on from a scene, and I swear, literally, we’d go back because Denis wanted to get something over my shoulder, or push in on my reaction, just to make sure [it stayed on Paul].

And again, it’s something where I’m pinching myself. I had the best time on Interstellar, and that was one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on, but it was very much something where I was aware of when I had the opportunity to do real acting. And on a movie like Dune, again, one could think it would get lost in the scale and scope. But I felt every day like my plate was full.

DEADLINE: One of those themes is fear, and Paul must overcome his to become the person he needs to be. When you are number one on the call sheet on a project of this scale, and the cast list reads like an address book of Hollywood in the 21st century, and Legendary has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into this production, and it’s all falling on your shoulders, I have to imagine fear is a theme you can readily relate to.

CHALAMET: Oh yeah, and they can bleed into each other for sure—not to diminish the other work that goes in. It’s great when your life experience can inform the role. That’s not at all to say I’m on some crusade in the universe or anything, but definitely… And I had that same good fortune with The King I think. My life is not nearly as significant or as exciting as Paul or Prince Hal, but we all share an unwitting needle in the haystack feeling. On The King that feeling was because I was so new to having a career. On Dune it’s because of, as you say, just feeling the pressure of the hugeness of the project in all those different ways. Those things can absolutely inform each other.

And then there are the moments of glee that come, too, like seeing Jason Momoa running at you at a hundred miles an hour, or just getting to shoot the shit with Josh Brolin, or getting to do a scene with Oscar Isaac. I felt so supported, whether it was Rebecca Fergusson or Charlotte Rampling. When Zendaya came, it was a total breath of fresh air, and she’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. I just got really lucky, and I can’t wait to see them all in Venice.

Denis split the book in half, and the hope is a second movie will get a greenlight. That’d expand Zendaya’s role in the story.

CHALAMET: Definitely, Chani will play a huge role in the next film. I don’t know if there’s a script yet, but just based on the book, along with Lady Jessica [Rebecca Fergusson], they have a lot to do together, let’s put it like that. And Zendaya was incredible in this movie; the moment she pulls the mask down, it felt properly showstopping and powerful. I was hiding behind the camera, counting my lucky starts, because I was there in month two of the shoot and here was a total powerhouse just coming in for the first time.

And as I said before, this was before I’d seen Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. She’s doing such incredible work and is just trailblazing her own path, and she’s so, so cool. She also happens to be in the most-watched trailer of the moment, too, for Spider-Man: No Way Home. I cannot wait for that movie, and I was there, by the way, with everybody else, clicking through the trailer frame by frame looking for clues [laughs].