#The review this professor is going to get at the end of the term is going to be unbelievable

[endtimers]

god my folklore class fucking sucks i need to do perfect in it to stick it to this prof now

[transmutationisms]

Any tips for reading academic/dense texts? I’m out of practice and without the guide of a professor to patiently explain every single thing it’s pretty hard getting back into it. Got any advice for improving one’s reading/comprehension abilities? I was reading Gramsci the other day and gave up. So we are talking pretty dire straits.

read a few book reviews or a secondary essay that summarises the text's arguments and significance. these readings are not definitive and you may very well end up disagreeing with them, but knowing what someone else made of the work can help you know what you're looking for when you read it yourself

read the introduction and conclusion first, then tackle the body chapters. this is similar to the above strategy in that it can clue you in to the main arguments and significance of the text before you delve into specific details and arguments. it helps keep you oriented if you know generally where a chapter is going and why. where applicable, you can also read the intro and conclusion to each chapter before reading the middle bits

academic texts are context-bound just like any other writing. if a book is baffling you, it can be clarifying to ask questions like: whom is this trying to respond to? why is the author setting these particular parameters of debate? what arguments or events is the author building on, answering, or taking for granted a reader's awareness of? you don't have to become an expert in every author, their political context, or their intellectual influences, but it often helps to pick up the broad strokes

keep a running lexicon of any specific jargon, vocabulary, or neologisms the author introduces. get into the habit of 'translating' sentences, at least in your head, by replacing all such terms with their definitions when necessary. sometimes you might even find it helpful to draw up some kind of diagram showing how terms relate to one another, like a taxonomical tree or other scheme

don't be afraid to skip around. if a chapter or section is particularly dense, baffling, or irritating, it might make more sense if you come back to it later, after reading other bits of the argument. academic non-fiction follows varying organisational schemata, and often chapters and sections stand on their own (& may even have been written as separate pieces, for instance intended for journal publication)

annotate (i like underlining and scribbling in the margins) and take notes (i like to remind myself what page number i can find a specific topic on) as necessary. the goal is not to disrupt your reading flow, but to give the future you the ability to look back and quickly identify what you thought was important or interesting in a text

[uhardite]

4 active study methods to boost your productivity

୨୧ leitner system:

-> create flashcards -> label 3 to 5 boxes with study time periods eg: box 1 for cards to be reviewed every day, box 2 for cards to be reviewed every other day, etc. the timeframe depends on the amount of time you have before your test. -> all your flashcards should begin in box 1. review each flashcard, try to recall information on each side -> if you answer a flashcard correctly, move the card to box 2. if you miss it, place it back in box 1. -> continue this method each time you review your flashcards. if you get a card correct, move it to the next box. if you get the card wrong, place it back in the box you picked it from. i really like this app for the leitner system, it has a no-frills design and an in-built spaced repetition for each flashcard you review

୨୧ blurting method:

mainly a revision method, using this activates your recall muscle. the more you test yourself, the stronger the muscle gets. -> study until you understand the object -> take a piece of paper and write down everything you remember -> mark your work, pay attention to detail -> keep doing it until you feel like you remember everything

୨୧ the feynman method:

i already explained this in another post but put it here for yall -> identify a topic -> try to explain it to a 5-year old -> study to fill gaps in your knowledge -> organize what you know and review

୨୧ the sq4r method:

survey: -> look at chapter and section titles -> what do the captions discuss? -> quick overview for charts and graphs -> summarize, and try to get a sense of what the assigned material covers

question: -> turn chapter and section titles into questions -> read the questions at the end of the chapter and/or section -> did your professor cover this information in the lecture? -> what do you already know about this topic? it might be helpful to write these questions out so that you can refer to them while reading

read: -> read to answer the questions you wrote out -> pay attention to captions and section summaries -> pay attention to bold, underlined and italic words/phrases -> stop and reread if not clear -> quality over quantity. slow down if you need to

recite: -> ask your questions aloud. try to answer without referring the text -> revisit the text to answer the questions you found difficult -> recite key terms and concepts -> how would you put the information in your own words?

relate: -> try to link the topic to previous iconcepts you are familiar with -> how does it relate? why does it relate? -> how does this reading relate to your notes? what are the differences?

review: -> after finishing reading, go over the chapter + notes + questions one last time -> schedule time for each day and continue reviewing

by @//xoxoparisstudy on ig

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Welcome to Chapter Thirteen! Thank you for waiting; I wanted to do it before Christmas, but you know how busy December is. Also find me on AO3: The_Crystal_Quill !

Also I'm so glad to finally give Rahim some appreciation <3

Please don't forget to leave a like!!!

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Thirteen ~ One Step Closer

Dear (Y/N),

It’s about time that you wrote me a letter that I didn’t have to share, and I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me, but I do enjoy having secrets to keep. I won’t tell anyone; I highly doubt they would be of any help anyway.

First of all, stop looking in the damned library, the answers to your Message aren’t in a book. I suggest you figure out where to go. This Spirit, whoever they are, obviously has something for you to find. They must have been to Hogwarts, or there would have been no point in Contacting you now. It must be there.

I would like to be involved in this, obviously you’re getting nowhere on your own, the only obstacle in my way is the fact that Hogwarts is so far. you should stay at Hogwarts to do some investigating. I will help.

I’ll start to set the seed in Mother and Father’s heads about what it would be like to see your school, I know there is a village near Hogwarts, find out the name for me. Then you can write home and tell them that you want to spend the holidays at Hogwarts – I’ll convince them to travel to see you there, it should be easy to get them to believe it was their idea.

In the mean time, you just look for some clues. I’m sure you can find something to do until I get there.

~ Wednesday

Emotionless, mildly condescending, and straight to the point, just like her sister. It was clear to (Y/N) that Wednesday was rather excited about this enigma; it had only taken a couple of days for her to reply, and she’d obviously put a plan together rather quickly in her eager state.

She really must be bored without (Y/N) there. It was a nice thought, in a way.

(Y/N) didn’t really want to spend the winter holidays at Hogwarts; she’d actually been rather looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and decorating the family tree, standing for another annual portrait and bickering while Lurch painted their every expression, and not to mention the flaming Christmas Pudding that only Grandmama knew how to make. But it seemed that some things were more important – (Y/N) was starting to despise this Spirit for interrupting her life; she was supposed to have a very normal year of magic and studying.

There were no practical lessons so close to the holidays, and most of her classes consisted of reviewing the work they had completed during their first term before it came to an end. For the last thirty-six minutes, she had been writing an essay about Rowena Ravenclaw and her life before and after the creation of Hogwarts, while Professor Binns lectured about how next term they would be looking into the other schools of magic around the world. It was a shame, (Y/N) thought, that Binns had a talent for making a subject so interesting sound so incredibly boring. It seemed the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was his death, and even then his retelling of the event was as dull and lifeless as the corpse which he left behind.

“…Now, Beaubatons, the French academy, that is – you may read it and think it is pronounced ‘beau’ as in ‘beautiful’, but is actually pronounced ‘boar’ like the wild pig, now that I think on it, it’s much like Hogwarts being named from the mole of a hog – anyhow, Beaubatons is in the Pyrenees, and takes students predominantly from, France and Spain, so I suppose they must also have language classes there too. Actually, quite a lot of them seem to speak a few languages, very talented students, they are, so I suppose they must offer language classes. So anyway, as I was saying, Beaubatons school is cloaked under a spell, much like the one that hides the Hogwarts grounds from muggles, but where here they simply get dazed and confused and return themselves away from the area, them being in the Pyrenees means a lot of muggles tend to get themselves lost off the edge of rocks and cliffs and the like, and as unfortunate as that is, it means that the whole area is highly advised against, as far as the muggles are concerned, so in the end it turns out to be not so bad. Sure, there’s a few injuries and the odd death every now and then, but it does a fine job at keeping the muggles away. So, as I was saying…” Sweet Hades take my soul to the depths of Styx already, (Y/N) thought. If he carried on any longer she may just pull her ears off, and her peers seemed to suffer similarly. Listening to Binns’ unique way of speaking was somehow the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry; his tone was slow and monotonous as if he were bored of it himself, and he drawled through each sentence like a snail, droning on and on, digression after digression, to the point where it’s hard to even hear what exactly he’s talking about over the constant sound. And don’t even get started on what it was like to get trapped in a conversation with him – there was no escaping the relentless torture of word after word for what felt like hours, and there was no helping his victims chained in place by the requirement to be polite to your elders.

Sharing her desk was Saoirse, of course, but (Y/N) had noticed she’d fallen asleep some time ago – Binns had quite the power for doing that. Now would be the perfect time for some earphones, yet another con to muggle technology not working at Hogwarts; she’d once wanted to ask why that was, but she dreaded how long the answer would take.

‘Rowena Ravenclaw then decided that her house would be one for students who valued wisdom and knowledge above all else, and created an environment which would nurture their minds and mould her students into some of the brightest witches and wizards at Hogwarts.’ (Y/N) wrote, hoping to finish her essay before the class ended so she wouldn’t have it for homework. Only ten minutes left until the bell would sound and release them from their torture.

When there was only four minutes left, (Y/N) nudged Saoirse with her elbow, waking her almost immediately; they had learned that it was best to leave as soon as the bell rang, rather than risk being caught up in a conversation with the professor, it was a mad-dash to leave.

As she rolled up her essay and put her quill away, (Y/N) thought about what she was going to write in her letter home. Wednesday must have already set the seed of seeing Hogwarts, as she’d put it, so now she needed to request that she stay. Only, she was finding it a little tricky to think up a reason for the strange request; in almost every letter (Y/N) had mentioned how she couldn’t wait to return home, what could possibly make her want to stay?

She needed a lie, and a good one at that.

When the bell finally dismissed them, the girls grabbed their bags and cloaks and exited the classroom. As December had rolled around, the snow was starting to fall each night, leaving a light layer on the grounds, and the hallways were becoming even more chilled than before. It was the perfect amount of cold for (Y/N); her breath fogged slightly in front of her, and she could wear comfortable layers, and feel like she was taking a lovely trip through the morgue.

The hallways gradually warmed up as they got closer to the Great Hall, their ever-burning fires seemed to heat the whole room, and the toasty warmth was trapped between the walls. Magic, probably, stopped the heat from escaping through the brickwork.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat and thought of what to write in her letter while Saoirse started a conversation about her latest obsession: vampires. “Wait, you really didn’t know they were real?” (Y/N) asked as she fiddled with the golden goblet in front of her. She sometimes forgot that Saoirse was raised by very ordinary muggles.

“I thought they were just a myth, like an old folk-tale, y’know?” Answered Saoirse with a wave of her arm, she gestured often when she spoke, (Y/N) noticed. “Like Dracula.”

“Dracula was real too.” She replied, amused at the way Saoirse dropped her hands on the table and gawked.

“What?” She said, moving her hair out of her face to pay proper attention to her friend. “Explain, now.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) succumbed to the distraction. “Count Dracula was from Romania, he came to Whitby by ferry, and he lived and died there. The story got a bit exaggerated through time, but he was very real. In fact, you can learn all about him in my town.” She was ready to leave it there as she saw her other roommates enter the room and look for them, but she thought one last piece of information would be worth sharing. “Local legend says he’s buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the town, but he’s actually buried in the Addams Cemetery next to my Great-Great-Uncle Wolfgang Addams.”

“WHAT?”

Dear Mother and Father,

I have so been looking forward to returning home for the holidays, as you know. But there has been an unfortunate incident involving a friend of mine and a carnivorous plant in one of the herbology greenhouses. She is having to spend the holidays in the hospital wing and can’t go home. I know you have been excited for me to be back home, but I may have already agreed to stay here so my friend wouldn’t be alone. Is that alright? I feel terrible about it all, but I’ve heard Christmas at Hogwarts is something to be awed. Perhaps you could send my gifts here? Or we can save them for the next holidays? It’s such a shame you can’t come here.

I have been practising my sword skills in the Forbidden Forest, luckily the cold weather means that few people are outside to see me. Sadly, I haven’t seen any terrible creatures in the forest, no ghouls or monsters, but there’s still time.

My lessons have been going well; my potions are near perfect, herbology has been coming naturally to me, and I only fell off of my broom once. Though, Transformation is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

The Hogwarts Express leaves from Hogsmeade Station early on Saturday morning next week, and I’ve agreed to accompany Saoirse as she boards. I look forward to hearing back from you.

~ (Y/N)

It wasn’t a perfect lie, but it would do. (Y/N) was attaching the letter to Mortis’ long leg as he finished up the steak and kidney pie she brought him, hoping he wouldn’t get too cold during his long flight. She’d already sent a note to Wednesday, informing her of the name of the nearest town and any updates on her mystery. With luck, she could easily convince them to stay in Hogsmeade – it would be a shame to not see them all for the winter – perhaps (Y/N) could sneak Wednesday into school.

“Go on then, Mortis.” She said to the great bird, giving his strong back a pat. “Fly back home as quickly as you can, I’ll see you soon.” (Y/N) took a step back, and watched as the vulture gave her a farewell nod and spread out his massive wings, diving from the tall tower and catching the wind to take him south. She watched until the giant creature turned into a brown-ish blur and disappeared into the white horizon, hoping it didn’t snow on his journey.

The trail back to the castle was long and peaceful; dark fir and pine tree tops were dusted in white and the snow on the ground had set a foot deep already, crunching beneath her shiny black boots with each step. For a while, that was the only sound she heard, until she neared the castle grounds and saw that there were students dotted around – some were settled around the courtyard some were walking through the fields to the iced-over lake, and two identical red-heads were throwing snowballs either at their friends or at unfortunate bystanders.

(Y/N) tugged on her leather gloves and tightened the emerald scarf around her neck, feeling a chill breeze redirect her way. She was pondering returning to the library to once more search for a useful book in the Divination section; she had all but given up on that idea, there was no way she could search through so many on her own, but she’d hate to admit that Wednesday was right.

She was just ascending the salted stone steps that lead into the castle, when she felt a soft pat on her head, and cold water melting into her hair and run down her neck. (Y/N) froze, and the whole courtyard seemed to freeze with her. A curse was muttered from behind her, and she turned to face the culprit. Maybe a dozen people were in the open area, all staring wide-eyed between the black-clad Addams heir and the group of damp third-year boys at the centre of it all. Three of the boys took a step back, pointing at their red-head friends accusingly, who watched warily for her reaction. (Y/N) said nothing, waiting for them to go first.

They straightened themselves out, faces pale from the cold and shock, noses red, gloves wet, both covered in snow. They looked to each other briefly, seemingly deciding what to do. “It was him!” The one of the left exclaimed, pointing to his brother.

The second twin gasped and put his hands up in surrender, shooting his brother a horrified expression of betrayal. “It was an accident, I swear!” He defended, giving her what he hoped was a sincerely apologetic look, crossing his heart with his forefinger. “I was aiming for Lee!”

A boy on the right threw his hands up, mirroring the look of innocence his accuser displayed. “Don’t drag me into this, you’re just a crappy shot.”

“Oi!”

“Well you’re the one who hit her!”

It was clear a petty argument was about to break out, so (Y/N) turned to face them fully from the third step and crossed her arms, successfully regaining their focus. They expected her to yell, to scream, to throw insults and curses. But she didn’t – she already had their attention; she didn’t have to cause a scene to get what she wanted.

All eyes were on them as the boys looked between themselves and her nervously; the longer she stood silent, the more anxious they became, wondering what she might do. Nothing in her face or body language gave away any indication of what she was thinking. Lee elbowed the twin nearest to him, seeming to snap him into some sort of action. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.” The guilty red-head said, pulling his knitted hat over his ears as he gave her another genuine expression.

There was a pause of complete silence, all lesser-noises absorbed by the blanketed snow, as everyone watched. Then, with only a single, small nod, (Y/N) turned and continued on her way, leaving them to their business.

Sometimes (Y/N) forgot about the reputation she’d somehow accumulated since her arrival, after all, she did very little to build it. Somehow, in simply being herself, people had made her (and her family) to be some sort of fantastical being of dark and mysterious origin. Saoirse often made her feel so normal, that she often forgot that, in the eyes of everyone else, she wasn’t. So it wasn’t too drastic of her to assume something as simple as a rogue snowball may have been thrown on purpose, she thought. But an apology was all she needed, and the boy was polite enough to give a sincere one. So perhaps not everyone outside of her inner circle was all that bad, even if they thought some truth was behind the rumours about her.

It was half-past eleven on a Saturday morning, exactly one week before the Winter holidays, which meant that the library would be full of people finishing up assignments and catching up on reading. As she entered the quiet hall, she was unsurprised to see most people wearing Ravenclaw jumpers. Making her way towards the back, (Y/N) passed a table piled high with books; curiously, she peered around a stack to see Hermione in a discussion with her two Gryffindor friends. “This is taking forever, I don’t know where else to look.”

“I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” Harry said, flicking through a copy of Great Wizards Of The Twentieth Century, before Ron nudged him in the arm and nodded to their observer. “Oh, um… hi…” He said, drawing back slightly, as if unsure of what to say. It was then that (Y/N) noticed how Harry didn’t seem to ever say her name – perhaps, (Y/N) considered, he simply hadn’t decided on if he should call her by her first name or her last.

“That’s quite a lot of books,” (Y/N) commented, busying herself with undoing her coat.

“Yeah well, we’ve been doing quite a lot of reading.” Said Ron with a slight edge of defence. (Y/N) couldn’t understand why, it seemed to her a silly thing to defend.

Normally, (Y/N) would have resigned the attempt at conversation. But given that these were Hermione’s friends, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a little effort – she thought it was very grown-up of her. “Anything interesting?”

The answers from each of them varied, but Hermione simply huffed at them and turned to her. “(Y/N), do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?” She asked, ignoring Ron’s noise of protest.

(Y/N) hummed as she removed her scarf and hung it on her arm. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him. Why?”

“No reason.” Said Ron, closing his book and moving it aside, interrupting Hermione before she shared too much.

Hermione only sent him a glare and ignored his frown of disapproval. “We’ve looked everywhere but we just can’t seem to find anything on him. The only place we haven’t checked is the Restricted Section.”

“The Restricted Section?” (Y/N) repeated, wondering why a library would hide books rather than share them. “What’s in there?”

“Mostly books on restricted topics, advanced dark magic and the likes.” The intelligent girl explained, turning to look to the back of the library. “Unfortunately, you can’t go in without a consent form, and that’s never going to happen.”

“Well, can’t you just ask the librarian? Surely she’ll know something about this Flamel.” (Y/N) offered, though she was clearly intrigued.

Harry shook his head. “No way, she’ll tell on us for sure.” He said, but the moment he did his eyes widened and Ron made another frustrated groan.

(Y/N) raised a brow and felt her curiosity grow. “So it’s a secret, this Flamel stuff?” She guessed, and it seemed she hit the nail right on the head.

“Look, you can’t tell anyone.” Ron stressed, moving the stack of books from between them so she could see all of him properly. “It’s very important that no one finds out about any of it.”

(Y/N) nodded, she wasn’t one for spreading secrets. “Of course.” Seeing then that she had nothing more to offer, and not long before lunch, (Y/N) stepped away from the table to take her leave. “I’ll let you to it then, I’ll see you here in the week, Hermione.” She said, then gave a nod to the group and made her way to the Divination section.

She thought that went relatively well; at least this time they actually talked with her.

With her coat and scarf placed safely on a desk chair, (Y/N) chose a shelf to scour, and began her ascent up the ladders to have a look at the M’s. Perhaps today was a good day to go through Meteoromancy: Secrets in Storms. She did love the sweet lull of thunder.

The Great Hall was decorated beyond (Y/N)’s expectations; snow dusted trees standing twenty feet tall at the front of the room, snowflakes falling from the ceiling only to fade away halfway down, colourful ribbons and garlands hung on the walls, and everything smelt of cinnamon and pine.

It was all very light and bright and colourful… it only made her miss the smooth blacks and blood reds of their tree at home.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat picking at a bowl of fruit as everyone discussed the holidays; Saoirse was looking forward to returning to her home most of all, telling Millicent all about her dog and how much she’d missed him. (Y/N) wished she was going back to Whitby – the beachside town was so charming in the winter; there were rarely any tourists, the wind was icy cold from the sea breeze, and the famed abbey looked so beautifully haunted covered in snow and salt-ice. The Addams Manor would be decorated with silky blacks, silvers, reds, white, and plum; the tree decorated with skulls and spiderwebs, piles of gifts wrapped in black paper; and the games they would play would bring a smile even to Wednesday’s face (especially when they played autopsy).

There were exclamations of excitement and dozens of owls came flying down from the highest windows carrying letters and packages to their owners, dropping them in their laps. Saoirse, Millicent, and Bridgit tore open their letters eagerly, as (Y/N) waited for Mortis to deliver a letter from her parents.

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Bridgit after a gulp of pumpkin juice, standing with a letter in hand, “this one’s addressed to me and my brother, I need to catch him before he goes to class.” She explained with a huff, turning to find him at the Gryffindor table.

Saoirse leaned across the table to stab her fork into an untouched sausage on Bridgit’s plate, then put her own letter safely in her bag. “What about yours?” She asked Millicent. “That from your parents?”

Millicent nodded, fiddling with the page in her hand. “Yeah, just how they’re looking forward to me going back and all that. Not very long, though.”

A moment later there was a scuffle of wings from the high window as a few owls rushed out of the way, making room for Mortis to fold his enormous wings to fit through, then reopen them again to glide down. He had the usual black envelope in his talons, dropping it for his young mistress to open, and bending his head low for a pat. “Good morning, Mortis.” She greeted him as she dragged an unused knife under the fold of the envelope to reveal the off-white paper inside. “Go get something to eat.” She said, watching him waddle over to a plate of bacon; his walk might have been cute, if it weren’t for the sharp talons that tapped the table with each heavy footfall that showed his weight. With all of the long-distance flights and buffet of foods, he really was getting bigger by the month.

(Y/N) unfolded the pages to read her mother’s swirling black handwriting.

Dear (Y/N),

We understand your desire to stay at Hogwarts with your friend. If you had something to do with the injury, it shows good character that you would agree to make up for it, & for that we are very proud of you. Pugsley would very much like to know more about the injury and how it came about, & if there were any limbs lost or infected wounds. Well, you will be able to tell him yourself. After we received your letter, Wednesday subtly pointed out how Hogsmeade is a popular visit this time of year, & how it isn’t too far from your school – she will deny it to her dying breath, but I believe she misses you more than she’ll admit. But nonetheless, we agree. We have made reservations at the Hog’s Head, & will be arriving on Sunday 22nd and staying until January 5th. As for you, you may stay with us or at Hogwarts with your friend, we can make arrangements for whatever you decide. I’ve included a note for the deputy headmistress in the envelope, if you would please give it to her.

We are all so looking forward to seeing you, Darling. It has been far too long already.

Missing you,

Mother

X

(Y/N) let out a small sigh; Wednesday might not have been as subtle as she’d said, but her intentions worked out anyway – and her family believed the lie she’d crafted, so all was well.

She folded the letter back into the envelope and took out the page written for McGonnagal, curious to be sure that she hadn’t written anything about the lie, but was relieved to read only about last-minute plans to Hogsmeade. (Y/N) would be glad to deliver it at the end of her Transfiguration class.

A tap on the arm brought (Y/N) back up from the page, seeing Saoirse collect her bag and grab a biscuit. “C’mon, we’ve got Potions.” She said, and (Y/N) noticed she had Millicent’s letter in hand.

“Why do you have that?” She asked as they made their way out of the Hall.

“She left it on the table, I’ll give it to her in class.”

The Dungeons were icy at this time of year, which was no surprise really – actually, what was a surprise was that they let students live down there in the damp and the cold. Their breaths fogged up in the air as they descended the steps and turned down the classroom’s corridor, seeing most students already at their desks, still wearing their robes and gloves. Saoirse gave a quick indication towards Millicent, nodding to (Y/N) as she returned the letter.

Snape entered the classroom with a swish of a cloak, glaring at those left standing around. “Be seated.” He demanded with upturned lips, watching as everyone shuffled to the nearest table. Truly, that man shouldn’t be working with children.

(Y/N) saw a spare seat in the centre-left of the room, where Rahim was sitting alone, and decided to occupy it (seeing as Saoirse had panicked and immediately sat with Millicent). She gave him a nod in greeting, receiving a shy smile in return as she unloaded her textbook, notes, and parchment onto her side of the desk.

“Today we will review the Forgetfulness Potion.” Snape drawled, and if it weren’t for the fact that so many of them were scared of him, many students would be lulled back to sleep by his monotonous voice. “This includes ingredients, directions, effects, cures, and history. Find the page in your textbooks, and I want an essay of at least two feet before the end of class, or you will be finishing an extra foot for homework.” There were a few groans from the back of the room, which he ignored completely. “You’ll do well to pay attention – you will be tested on it at the start of your next term, and it will be included in your final exam at the end of the year, along with the many other potions and ingredients that we cover.”

For a long while, there was near-silence in the room, only the scratching of quills and the low mumbles and whispers of discussions. And as (Y/N) was writing about the effects of the potion (which she was already having a hard time remembering), she felt a cramp in her hand and decided to take a short break.

Rahim was writing quickly, copying a list from his textbook rather efficiently, until he noticed the bored look on his friend’s face as she studied a satisfying lower-case ‘b’ on his paper. “Um… you alright?”

Nodding, (Y/N) continued to rub her hand as she glanced in the direction of their professor, seeing he was busy marking papers with vague disappointment. “Yes, just… in need of a break.” She answered truthfully.

Rahim nodded and straightened himself out, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Yeah, me too. But at least there’s not long before the holidays.”

(Y/N) hummed, deciding against mentioning how she was staying back. “Yeah, you can finally spend some time away from the library.” She teased, as if she wasn’t in there far more than him.

Humming a laugh, the boy gave her another shy smile, half-hidden by his dark hair. He seemed to be considering something, opening and then closing his mouth hesitantly.

(Y/N) realised that she couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with Rahim alone; they were always accompanied by Saoirse or Hermione. Perhaps that was why he was hesitating – or maybe it just made him all the more shy. “What is it?”

Rahim scrunched his brows slightly, before opting to say what was on his mind. “Well, uh… I was just wonderin’… about them books you’re always reading from the library…” He finally said, fidgeting with his quill and smudging his fingers with the first ink-stains of the day. “They’re just a bit… um… odd… I guess.”

She could tell he was trying very hard not to offend her, which she found very endearing, and was pleased that he was putting such effort into his phrasing. She thought perhaps that he could be trusted with the vague truth; after all, he didn’t have anyone to tell secrets too, other than Saoirse maybe. But (Y/N) was too tired to think up clever lies – it was a skill she’d have to work on. “I received a Message from a spirit, and I’m trying to figure out what to do.” She strategically answered.

To her surprise, Rahim didn’t seem all too shocked by this. Given his quiet nature, she’d expected a bit more of… a reaction. But instead, he seemed to be thinking over her answer seriously. “Spirit? Like a ghost?”

She waved a hand in a ‘sort of’ gesture. “Kind of… but a more dead ghost than a… living... ghost?” She cringed — not so elegantly put.

Rahim thought nothing of the peculiar answer, going along with it in understanding. “Well… where’ve you been lookin’?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Well, just about everything really. Auramancy, Occulomancy, Tarot, runes… so far I haven’t found anything helpful.”

“And Necromancy wasn’t any help?”

She stopped. For the first time in a while, her brain seemed to stutter and freeze. Necromancy.

Necromancy.

Oh how the hell did she not think of Necromancy?

“Oh… I am such an idiot.” She muttered, massaging her forehead in frustration. It was so obvious now, she seriously questioned where her head had been all this time. “Rahim, it’s extremely rare that I’ll ever say this again, but I owe you one.” (Y/N) said, earning another shy smile from the boy.

She had one last shelf to check in the library.

Thank you for reading! Pleeeease like/comment/reblog to support!

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[beebotea]

hey, are you listening — part 15

pairing : college au!xiao x f!reader . summary : in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ . cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns .

[prev] [masterlist] [next]

15. working

act 1, scene 1

With an hour left before the end of class, Professor Lisa announced that she planned for the remaining tome to be used on the group project work. As there were only a few days left until the first submission checkpoint, it would be wise for all students to coordinate with their partners accordingly.

Y/N watched as her classmates started to shift around to find their partners. Her own friends leaving soon after, but not without checking in on their suspiciously quiet friend.

“Y/N?” Yanfei spoke up from beside her.

“Hmm?”

“Everything alright? You seem a bit down?”

“Yeah… just thinking i guess. I don’t really wanna talk about it right now but Lumine is free to tell you guys whatever. I don’t mind. I just don’t wanna talk about it all over again… Maybe aftewards.”

“No worries. We can talk anytime you need.” Yanfei gave you a gentle smile before leaving to look for her project partner Aether, waving to Heizou as she passed.

Y/N felt a hand on her head, ruffling her hair and she looked up to see HuTao grinning down at her. “You’ll be okay.” The brunette encouragingly patted her friend on the back (although it was more like a shove) before following suit to find her own partner.

Not long after, she heard the chair beside her being pulled out.

“Can I sit here?”

Y/N met eyes with Xiao, who waited patiently for her response despite feeling all kinds of emotions on the inside.

“Go ahead. We’re project partners after all.” There were so many things to be said, but so few words came to her mind as he took his spot beside her.

Moments passed and no further words were exchanged. It was as if the air was denser, harder to breathe in and harder to communicate through.

“So… are you feeling alright.” Xiao finally said, deciding to break the silence between them.

“Mhm.” Y/N responded.

“Are you sure? You seem… different.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She gave him a curt smile. “I’ve just been… stressed so you don’t need to worry about me.”

It was hard for her to read the expression on his face. A little hesitant and a lot concerned, perhaps.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. It’s not good for your health.”

“Yeah I guess it would be pretty bad if I got sick since we’re working together on this project, huh.”

“Whether you’re my partner or not I’d prefer that you’re always happy and healthy.”

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just start working alright? We’ve already finished the first draft so I guess we could use this time to peer review each other’s work.”

“Alright.”

—

act 2, scene 1

—

act 2, scene 2

Scaramouche looked up from his phone to glare at the boy wearing teal braids in front of him.

“The fuck you mean you nominate me?” He whispered loud enough for the other band members around them to hear.

“Well you’re probably the most acquainted to both of them out of the five of us. And you don’t have shit to do in this class either!” Venti argued.

“Fine.” Scaramouche said as he roughly pulled his Venti’s beanie down to his eyes, before treading off to find a seat near Y/N and Xiao.

“I think we can probably get the submission draft done by tonight if we keep working on it.” Y/N said, looking up from her screen as she reached the half-way point of Xiao’s part of the report.

“Yeah, probably. I’m down to push through and get it all over with tonight.” Xiao agreed, thinking it would be the best decision as it would lessen the workload on Y/N's shoulders.

“You guys don’t have any plans tonight?”

“I don’t think so.” He felt as if he was missing something...

“I thought you guys had band practices Tuesday evenings.”

Oh right. That's what he forgot. “Oh shit." He said, mentally facepalming. "We do…”

"It's alright then, Xiao, no biggie." Y/N reassured him that it would be alright for them to finish the day after until she was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Or, you can just come to band practice with us and work before and after we practice." As if appearing like the Cheshire cat, Xiao's indigo-haired cousin spoke up from the seat directly behind the partners.

"Scara?"

"Oh so you've finally noticed. Venti's here too." He smiled at her.

"Are you guys stupid? This is a 9am class! Why are you even here?"

"Tch. It's always why Scara but never how's Scara, huh." Scaramouche rolled his eyes at her for unknowingly sounding too similar to Aether. "But like I said. Come with us to band. We won't mind an audience. Right Xiao?"

"Yeah. I'll walk you home after too." His cousin agreed. "It's better that we finish this submission sooner rather than later for you. It'll take some stress off of your shoulders, Y/N."

Despite her constant inner turmoil, Xiao never failed to make her heart skip a beat and almost forget all of her worries. He always remained attentive and caring, making her feel safe and special regardless of what was happening around them.

"Pfft-stress? From what? Colouring in your business analysis charts with crayon?" Scaramouche cackled from behind her. "You're in business... what could be so stressful about your course load? I've seen Childe submit a picture of a marketing poster he made out of Crayola marker and get an 85%. It wasn't even scanned to be submitted as a PDF. Straight up PNG to the submission folder."

"Lay off it, Kuni. They're in different programs." Xiao rolled his eyes at his cousin.

"Yeah! Shut up, nerd. Don't you have problem sets to finish or something?" Y/N stuck her tongue out at the Inazuman in retaliation.

"Whatever. So you coming to practice or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go."

—

a/n: verrryy overdue bc i have this course called collaborative exercise where we need to p much complete an arch project in like four days (i.e. i wake up at 6:30 am to get to uni at 9am and i get home at 7pm allll week). i think next chapter will also be p reading intensive too so theres ya heads up :DDD hopefully i can get the chapter out in time but if not, my apologies. hope you enjoyed <33

—

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—

[collegecuckcakev3]

You asked for more color on our dynamic. My husband is a professor. We live in faculty housing. It isn’t unusual for students to stop by for help. My cake first showed up last year around March. She dressed very suggestively and the two would go into his study for their tutoring sessions. He always closed the door. He has a doctorate and I dropped out of college to support him thru school. After getting the job on the faculty here I got a secretarial job with another professor. So, there has been a growing rift between us as he is intellectually my superior as are all his friends. When we have company I am the servant, nothing more. I’ve been told not to engage anyone in conversation so as not to embarrass him. The other wives, many of whom are on the faculty, too, look down on me and for good reason. He never wanted kids. Our sex life was mainly centered on his dominant side. I finally admitted I was submissive after denying it for years. I was graded as a wife weekly. If I received a bad grade I’d be disciplined, usually with his belt, but sometimes with the cane. Over the years I gained weight. It embarrassed him, I know, as most college professors are thin. When my cake finished the term I thought I’d seen the end of her, but when the next semester began she continued stopping by even though she didn’t have any of his classes. She’d often come from the gym still sweaty and he would tell me I should take more pride in my appearance and she offered to coach me. I knew he was bending her over his desk in his study regularly. They both knew I knew and didn’t care. She would assign me exercises to do and eventually she introduced corporal punishment when I didn’t do it right or failed to make progress. She took away my clothing privileges and said if I wanted to look disgusting I would have to do it nude. They no longer hide their sexual interludes. They do it in the bedroom now and I am allowed to watch and must clean them afterwards. I have to address her as Miss Taylor and ma’am even though she is young enough to be my daughter. She also told me she would be moving in with us in the fall. She told her parents she is getting free rent for serving as a pet sitter. I guess they consider me an animal. I have my weekly review and weigh in tonight. It is at six right before they go out for dinner. She will punish me and then decide what I can will be allowed to eat. Let me know if you want to know more, ma’am.

that is very hot. is you diet the only thing she controls?

[xreaderbooks]

The Shadows of Our Love |5|

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader, Platonic! Ominis x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood purity

Summary: Y/n and Ominis have a conversation

Playlist

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 4 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 6

Multicolored puffskeins were at your feet, bouncing on your legs and vying for your attention, much like the rest of the beasts in the forest vivarium. You spent your Thursday afternoon in the Room of Requirement after a frustrating class on Ancient Runes, at this point, you didn't know why you had signed up for the bloody class. You overestimated your ability to pay attention, thinking that your slight interest in the subject would mean you would actually listen to the droning of the Professor.

The time you spent with your beasts as a form of procrastination was therapeutic, alas, your time was ending and you would have to do your homework for potions soon.

You fed and pet every single one of the exotic creatures to the point where you had feathers and fur all over you. It wasn't until Deek had emerged from the entrance to tell you that you had a letter, that you let out a heavy breath and decided to stop lingering.

With your final goodbyes to your adorable animals, you stepped through the portal back to the large room where the house elf handed you the letter. 

Y/n,

Whenever you are available, I would like to study with you in the Undercroft. I will be skipping dinner waiting for your arrival.

Ominis

Interesting...

You and Ominis were on speaking terms, more than just classmates but not exactly besties on the level that he and Sebastian were on. It pleased you to know that he wanted to hang out, officially, that is.

The two of you had a bit of a rough start in the beginning, especially with the way you enabled Sebastian at times with his quest to save Anne, you wouldn't have and didn't blame him for his response to everything that went down so you were happy to refresh the page and start anew.

You changed into a different set of robes and sprayed yourself with your floral-scented perfume to hide the stench of the animals you spent half the day with.

~~~

"Knock knock," You voiced out into the secret room as the metal gates to the Undercroft shut with a clamber.

"Y/n?" Ominis said on a wooden desk he must have conjured since it wasn't there before.

"I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl, Omi," You walked over to him and settled your writing tools for the essay you were going to force yourself to work on.

His eyes narrowed at the nickname.

"Right, that was weird," You cringed and slid into the seat across from him. "Sorry, wanted to try it out."

"Not your best, I must say," His lips quirked upward. "Shall we get started?"

"We shall," You unrolled the scroll of parchment and your advanced potions textbook. "What are you working on?"

"Practice test for Charms, Professor Ronen just assigned it today but I want to get it done as soon as possible, who knows when the man will spring up his practice quiz."

You were familiar with Professor Ronen and his spontaneity, always the one to make sure his students were actually paying attention in his class, he would give you a practice exam to review and give you all homework credit for it but it was also a warning for his pop quizzes he frequently liked to give.

"Oh! I have mine with me if you'd like to just copy off mine and study later?" You offered. You brought your satchel with all the books of assignments you have and have not completed.

Ominis appeared thoughtful and declined, "That's alright, I prefer to study the material given to me actually. It was kind of you to offer."

"Not at all," You smiled at the fact that you were getting to know little details like this about Ominis.

~~~

A full hour of work, the Undercroft echoed with the scribbles of your quills on parchment and the turning of textbook pages. Not at all as awkward as you thought it was going to be when you were heading over here.

The only times you would talk to Ominis were when you were both surrounded by people, in the Great Hall or in class, the both of you gravitated toward each other in a room full of classmates who hadn't been through the same experiences and grief- all thanks to Sebastian.

You thought that being alone with him without Sebastian's impending doom looming over the both of you, would be tense but it hasn't been.

Ominis worked on his assignment, while you worked on yours- 12 inches of parchment on Everlasting Elixirs. It was due next week Monday and you knew that you had to get started on it somehow if not, by the time you actually put the effort in, it would take you til the morning of the due date to finish.

That was stress you did not need when you were already worried about sodding Ancient Runes class.

"Is something the matter, Y/n?" Ominis broke the silence.

"W- Yes, I am." You were surprised by the question, "Do I not seem alright?"

"You're very quiet, well you are quiet but you're thinking so much, I can almost hear it." He chuckled lightly as he said it. "As a matter of fact, you've been quite pensive these past few weeks."

"Have I?"

"I'm blind Y/n, that does not mean that I do not notice such things." He sits up straighter, "Your other friends may not have seen it, that lot has always been more extroverted but so were you, last year. Not as much but still I can feel it when I'm around you, it's as if you're less enthused."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, he cared. It was a little bit of a shock to know that he did but it warmed your heart.

"I have a confession to make," He started. 

"Do tell," You placed your elbows on the table and leaned in, curiously awaiting.

"You mustn't tell anyone," He says with a stern tone. "Not even Sebastian."

You snorted in an unladylike manner, "Done."

He inhales, and confesses, "I'm a legilimens."

Your face contorted in confusion, your silence gave it away before you had to ask what that was. You had only been a part of the Wizarding world for a school year, you didn't know much besides what you had encountered and learned about last year.

"It's a person who can read the thoughts of others, I can look into your mind and find your deepest memories, even read your thoughts at present if I wanted to."

"Are you trying to tell me that you read my mind?" You didn't know how you felt about that. "That's what all the concern is about."

"I- Well, no. I wasn't lying when I said I felt the way your energy has changed. It's not something I can control or practice often, though I should."

"Is it something that you learned or were you born with it?" Had he always been able to do that and just now said something because he heard something that drew him to be worried?

"Wizards and Witches can learn and master it but for me, it was a trait passed down from my ancestor, I choose not to use the ability," His voice was tight as he explained. "Your thoughts were loud, I didn't mean to intrude, I'm telling you this because I want to trust you. I want you to trust me as well. I know you and Sebastian are still not speaking-"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring him up," You sighed. "How is he, by the way? Since we're on the subject."

"He's Sebastian, complicated and stubborn" He answered. "This was never about him, point is, I've noticed over the course of a few weeks that you haven't been yourself and was wondering if there was anything I can do to assist."

You crossed your arms and leaned on the back of your chair, "While I appreciate the concern, I am quite alright, Ominis."

"You know, Sebastian and Anne have been a better family to me than my actual blood. They had no hate in their hearts, they held no judgment on me and the beliefs of my family." He cleared his throat, "I was gutted at what had happened to Anne and the path that Sebastian took to try and save her. That drove a wedge between him and me, as you've witnessed. Dark magic is not something I could ever resort to, you know this, ever. Not even for someone I consider a brother, so trust me when I say I meant no offense when I heard your thoughts."

"I know, Ominis," You said in a light tone to ease his mind. You weren't upset at him for accidentally reading your mind, it caught you off-guard and you were just grateful you weren't thinking something embarrassing.

"So your parents are racist," you joked to ease the tension. "To be expected with the whole Slytherin thing, pureblood supremacy and all that, obviously not your thing." 

"A never-ending fight," He exhaled. "I never asked- not that it matters but where are you from?"

"I'm muggle-born," You shrugged. "I had shown signs of having some magical ability when I was a child but my parents were visibly uncomfortable whenever I showed signs so I just held it in, kind of trained myself to ignore the urges, and even went to a muggle primary and secondary school."

His eyebrows quirked at the information, how different the two of you are.

You continued, "It got to the point where I just couldn't hold it anymore and everything just burst out of me. At the worst time, might I add, in the middle of the class- everyone fell out of their desks. I was nervous for a presentation and everyone was overwhelming me with questions, With all the build-up from never being released, I just exploded. Freaked my parents out, by some miracle of fate, I heard a pair of wizards buzzing on about Hogwarts and so I wrote a letter to Professor Black and here I am."

Ominis blinked, processing the information, "Fate was right to bring you here. I'm not my parents but just be glad you're in Slytherin, that's the only prejudice I will take part in though you do spend a great amount of time with Gryffindors, I'm not so sure the sorting hat made the right choice."

You reach over the table and push his shoulder lightly, he laughed breathlessly in his seat.

"I'll have you know, a Gryffindor could never get out of the skirmishes I have, and that's all thanks to my cunning." 

"Or sheer luck," He murmured. 

You tossed your quill at his chest, "Oh, stuff it."

~~~

Chapter 6

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[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Rate My Professor (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt is an adjunct professor at Columbia - teaching a few legal classes a week between his pro-bono career and being Daredevil. You Karen, Marci, and Foggy read Matt's online reviews from students, most of whom are more interested in looking at him than actually learning. You're jealous about it. Professor Murdock assures you that you're the only one for him.

Notes: 18+. Smut with plot. No use of Y/N. Female reader (use of girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Use of pet names (sweetheart.) Semi-public sex with a little exhibitionism, Unprotected sex, Very clothed sex, Oral (f receiving), P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from both Matt and Reader. Professor Murdock, which is a warning in itself.

WC: 3350

“I don’t think I really want to know.” Matt exclaimed

“Oh c’mon it’ll be fun. I’m sure you’re a great teacher! I bet there’s not a single bad review on there!” Karen replied

How you all had ended up on the subject was innocent enough - Marci had mentioned a new intern had started that week at her firm. The intern in question had just graduated from Columbia and was a student of Matt’s last year. According to Marci the intern had “only great things to say” which led you all to talking about favorite professors, which had then subsequently led into the current topic. So now here the five of you were, in the living room of yours and Matt’s shared apartment on what was supposed to be a friend’s game night, looking him up on RateMyProfessors.com.

“I agree with Matt, this could be a bad idea. I really loved to dig into my professors on this site when I was in grad school and I was not kind.” you responded from your spot on the floor, full well knowing you were going to join the group in reading Matt all of his reviews anyway.

“We get feedback from the end of semester surveys, I really don’t think I need more!” Matt protested from beside you

“Yes, but your admin filters it out for you to keep it constructive! And you know the students know it’s not totally anonymous, so they hold back! I bet they’re way more honest on here.” Foggy argued back

The four of you scrolled through your phones, looking for Matt’s name on the long list of Columbia faculty.

“Oh wait, wait, I got it! Here we go…” Foggy said as he had all but jumped up from the sofa, his phone having loaded the review page first 

“Mr. Murdock is an excellent teacher - his lectures are succinct and to the point and give great insight on the real world arguments made for the law. His class is easy to pay attention to, though who is to say if that’s the subject or how easy Mr. Murdock is to look at.” Foggy’s voice trailed off as he got to the end, not realizing where the statement was going

There was a moment's silence where tension hung in the air before you, Karen, and Marci all burst into a fit of giggles and shrieks.

“It does not say that!” Matt replied

He grabbed for Foggy’s phone, even though he wouldn’t be able to see the screen that his best friend was reading.

“Um, it totally does, and it’s not the only one.” Karen said as she scrolled

 “I found Professor Murdock’s class really challenging - particularly his grading. But when your professor is as hot as he is, I find it hard to complain. I wonder if he goes as hard in the bedroom as he does with grading term papers.”

Marci’s jaw flew open in scandal as Matt just continued to shake his head.

“Care to confirm?” Foggy asked you

“Well I’ve never written him a term paper, so I’m not sure...” you teased

“Oh wait! I found a good one too!” Marci interjected 

“Mr. Murdock is unbelievably attractive - honestly just take his class even if you’re not pre-law. Just to look at him for two hours, twice a week.” 

“Tell me there’s at least one that doesn’t mention my appearance?!” Matt asked with a huff

“This one mentions how hot they think your voice is when you say ‘According to the First Amendment and the precedent laid out in Tinker v. Des Moines’ so technically no mention of your face or body, just your sexy man-voice.” you responded

Matt laid his head down on the coffee table and groaned. He was hoping the ever changing glow of the billboard outside would mask the pink tint inevitably creeping up his cheeks and onto the tips of his ears. He could feel the heat of his blush spreading and didn’t want to give you guys another thing to tease him about tonight.

“Okay okay. I think I found a real one.” Foggy reassured his friend 

“I really loved taking Mr. Murdock for Constitutional Law 101. He really knows what he’s talking about and facilitates really great discussions in class. I just wished he used more visual aids.”

“How am I supposed to use visual aids when, ya know?” Matt gestured towards the red tinted glasses, which covered his unseeing eyes.

“Oh no wait, I didn’t scroll enough, they then went on to say ‘But I guess when you look like that, you are the visual aid.”

“Okay. Can we please stop this? I pride myself on how hard I work to make an instructive and professional learning environment and I’m not loving that this…” he gestured to his face and down his body “Is what everyone is focusing on.”

“I mean, I might be biased, but I certainly don’t blame them Matty.” You teased, giving him a quick peck on the cheek

As much fun as you were having with your friends at your boyfriend’s expense, there was a slight pang in your chest. The small bubble of nausea in your stomach wasn’t just because you were waiting on your take out delivery and hungry, but also at the thought of other people thinking about your boyfriend that way. Surely, he had mentioned that he had a serious, live-in girlfriend to his students? Certainly, he had toned down the charming smile and flirty banter (that made you fall so in love with him in the first place) while he was interacting with a bunch of young co-eds whose minds he was supposed to be shaping for the future?

Of course it’s all fine, you thought. Matt is an astute professional educator and lawyer. He’d never cross that boundary and he’d never even consider anyone else but me, let alone a student, you mentally spoke to yourself, trying to find some reassurance. 

But the feelings of insecurity still gnawed at the back of your mind.

Once dinner had arrived and more wine had been drunk, the conversation had moved on from Matt’s online admirers to other topics.

But even as you and Matt said your goodnights to your friends and got ready for bed, you couldn’t push down the feelings of insecurity and jealousy now planted in your thoughts.

_________________________

A few days later, you were sitting on the 1 train, traveling up to Columbia’s campus. You had just finished a long day of meetings at work. After you had lamented a little bit to Matt via a mid-morning phone catch up, he had suggested meeting up and grabbing dinner near campus when he was done with his Thursday evening class. 

“We can have a date night and you can vent.” he said

You shuffled your way through campus to one of the law school buildings, weaving down the carpeted halls until you made your way to Matt’s office. If one could even call it an office. As an adjunct, he got stuffed into a glorified broom closet in a quiet corner of the building.

The door was slightly ajar when you arrived and you pushed it open further, giving it a soft knock as you did.

“Matt?” you called out gently

You knew he could detect your scent and your heartbeat as soon as you stepped on campus, but still didn’t want to startle him in case he was too focused on something else.

Matt was sitting behind his desk with a rather serious look on his face. There were some papers scattered across it and the blueish glow of his computer screen illuminated his focused expression in the otherwise dim room. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to his forearms and his hair was slightly disheveled after a long day of teaching. One headphone hung in his left ear as he listened to his computer dictate a term paper. His glasses rested on top of the papers, long ago discarded from his face.

“Hey sweetheart!” his expression softened as soon as you stepped into the room and shut the door behind you “I thought those were your heels I could hear down the hall.”

He stood from his chair and pulled the headphone out of his ear as he shuffled out from behind the desk, reaching to embrace you.

You returned the sentiment with a hug and a quick peck on his cheek.

“Hey, so I’ve got about 20 more minutes where I have to be here for my office hours, then we can head to dinner. Sound good?” he asked

“Yeah. I can go hang out somewhere else if you need me to.” you offered

“No, no.” he waved your statement off as he returned to his seat and gestured for you to sit as well

 “Most students don’t show up this late. I just get in trouble if someone comes by during my posted hours and I’m not here. Was just using this time to get a head start on grading, but we can start catching up on your day now if you want.”

You flopped down in the chair opposite him.

“You sure none of those girls who gave you glowing reviews aren’t gonna swing by for an evening chat?” you jested, bringing up the subject for the first time since that evening with friends

The statement came out more spiteful than you intended. 

Matt sighed and dragged a hand down his face to rub his chin.

“I knew that bothered you. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked

“Cause it’s not important.”

“That’s not true.” he argued

“I mean it’s not like you meant for it to hurt me. You didn’t even want to read them. And besides, it’s not like you can do anything about it. You can’t control what they write online about you and your damn sex appeal. Unless you’re being flirty with students and letting them think… ”

“Sweetheart, you know that I would never.” he reassured

“I know. I’m just worried. Like not a lot, but it’s just that little thought in the back of my mind. But it’s stupid. You know, just worried that someone comes to one of your classes and is smart and brilliant and younger and fitter and prettier…”

“No, no, no.” Matt brought his hand up and waved it, cutting you off

“You’re the only one for me. I promise. Look, I don’t give a damn what a bunch of random college girls think of me. You know how many times one of them hangs around after class and instead of asking questions, they try and stupidly flirt, and you know what I say to them?”

“What?”

“I lie and use you as an excuse to get away. I usually go with ‘sorry, I’m meeting my girlfriend for dinner,’ or ‘gotta run, my girlfriend is calling me.’”

“Do you really?” you giggled

In a much better mood, you rounded the desk to his side. You bent down, placing a hand on each armrest of the worn leather chair, caging him in. You rested your forehead against his.

“Yeah. I didn’t hear your review on that stupid site, and that’s all I care about - you and what you think of me. None of them will ever compare to what you and I have. I promise, I’m not going to ever let anything tear that apart.” he reassured

You leaned forward more and met your lips with his - softly, but with passion and intention behind the kiss. He lingered for a moment before you pulled back just enough to look into his unfocused eyes. 

“You know. Not many heartbeats in this building right now. None on this floor but ours.” He spoke lowly

Calloused fingers began to dance up your thigh, toying with the hem of your pencil skirt.

“What are you suggesting Professor Murdock?” you whispered back

“I’m suggesting that I use the next 18 or so minutes to prove to you that I’m yours and only yours.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst use of time. But you’ve gotta use your bat-hearing and make sure we don’t get caught.” you said

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” he replied with a smirk

This time it was he who kissed you, with much more fervor. He didn’t break the kiss as he stood and slowly pushed your shoulder so that your bottom met the hard edge of his desk. 

His tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for you to allow the kiss to go deeper. And you did. You let him cup your face with both hands as his mouth moved from your lips, across your jaw and down your throat, then back up to your lips again.

Slotting himself between your thighs, he moved his hand back down to your skirt. You took the cue and stood a little, just enough that he could shimmy it up your body so all the material gathered at your waist. The rough wool material felt like sandpaper on his sensitive skin, but he knew the softness of your flesh would relieve that discomfort soon.

You sat back down on the desk edge, as Matt began to kneed at your thighs.

He worked his way up, until his thumb hovered over your clothed core. 

Four circles of his thumb on your clit was all it took to make your eyes snap shut and a feral moan to escape from you into his pouty lips that hovered over yours.

“Please Matthew, don’t tease.” you begged in a desperate prayer

He let out a huff in protesting agreement. He tugged at the waistband of your panties. You maneuvered yourself until he removed them and tossed them somewhere amongst the paperwork beside you.

He dropped to his knees, similarly to how he did every Sunday at mass, but today you were his sacred worship and your moans his hymns.

Patience was not a word in your vocabulary tonight, as your hand flew to his hair to give a quick tug as soon as he made contact with the floor. He began to lick and nip his way up your thighs, making sure to arrive at your opening quickly.

His tongue met your clit and he wasted no time, licking and sucking at your sensitivity. 

The soft exhale you released in sweet relief filled his ears. He chased after the sound, wanting to hear more breathy moans from your perfect lips. All caused by him. You bucked up into his mouth a little, a silent beg for more.

And he was happy to oblige. 

A softly whispered “Matthew” escaped your lips, though you were so lost in him, it didn’t even feel like you were the one who said it.

It was enough to break his resolve, as he pulled away from you and stood once more, wiping the remnants of you off his chin.

His breath caught behind his teeth as you reached out to toy with the buckle of his belt. 

He needed you. Now.

He fiddled with the top buttons of your blouse, opening it just enough so that he could reach in and massage at your breasts. Finally, you undid enough of his pants for him to free himself.

He kissed you, now more desperate than before. Tasting yourself on him only made you more incoherent.

“Lean back.” he managed to moan between teeth and tongue clashing

You did as instructed and propped yourself up on your elbows.

His mouth moved down to your neck, where he let out a hot breath as he pushed inside you.

The pace he began with was sinfuly slow, allowing you the time to take in every moment, every drag of his hips, every millimeter of him pushing slowly further inside you.

“Oh Matthew… oh fuck-” your words faultered as he finally picked up his pace

His tie tickled at your exposed sternum with every thrust. All you could do was wrap your arms around him and cling to him as he brought you to closer and closer to ecstasy. 

The intoxicating aroma of your sex filling his dingey and moth-ball scented office was bringing him near to the edge sooner than he’d like. But he could sense you were close too.

A few more thrusts and you’d both be there.

And then he heard it. 

The soft ding of the elevator. The familiar heartbeat of a particularly pushy student from his Civil Procedure class making her way down the hall towards his office. Then the smell hit his nose - oh god the smell - the cheap Victoria Secret body spray she doused herself and her assignments in. 

He had explained to her on multiple occasions that she didn’t need to go to the library and print her assignments in braille, that submitting them via the online platform was perfectly fine; but she insisted on invading his nostrils with that stench and making more work for him to get her grades in. All in a pitiful attempt to seduce him. She was still a few doors down and that damn terrible body spray nearly drowned out the heavenly scent of you that was right in front of him.

Any moment she would reach his door and catch the two of you in this very compromising position. 

He knew he should alert you, give you the time to make yourself at least look a little appropriate, but he couldn’t bear to pull himself from you. 

Then he had a thought.

Oh this was too perfect - to have you in such a sinful manner and an opportunity to set some very clear boundaries for her and (he assumed she’d spread the word via the grapevine to her gaggle of giggling friends) any other student who thought they stood a chance.

And if there was ever anything that would be concrete proof to you that he’d never be interested in a student, purposefully getting caught would do it. 

Fine. He was going to let this play out, he decided, not bothering to slow his pace as he continued to thrust inside you.

The footsteps got closer and he heard the distinct click and squeak of the door knob turning in it’s place.

His head was blocking your view of the door and he was pretty sure your eyes were closed as well. Anyway, you were too lost in fuck to notice as the door slowly open and the student peered into the room.

You didn’t notice her stand there for a moment and you didn’t notice her hands fly over her mouth in shock.

Matt couldn’t help but smirk into your neck. It was that moment that you chose to sink your teeth into his earlobe and growl in his ear.

“Say it, Matthew. Say that you’re mine.”

“Yours sweetheart. Only yours. Always.” he huffed in response

Oh she definitely heard that, he thought, picking up on the scurrying footsteps of his student making her way back down the hallway and disappearing into the night. 

You tugged the hair at the nape of his neck, still blissfully unaware of what just occurred. The action pulled him back into the moment.

“Yours.” he repeated once more in a barely audible whisper

That was all it took.

Waves of fire washed over you as you reached your end, with Matt not far behind. A few more thrusts had him grunting and moaning into your neck as he spilled himself inside you.

He slowed his hips to nearly nothing and brought his head up to press his forehead to yours.

You both lingered, reveling in the moment.

He pressed a kiss to your temple as he slowly slid himself from inside you.

There was little strength left in your wobbly legs as he took a step back to allow you the space to stand.

You fumbled around the desk and retrieved your panties, shimmying them up your body before sliding your skirt back into place.

Matt placed his glasses on his face and felt for the braille watch on his wrist.

“Office hours are over. Let’s go get some dinner.”

[sluttylittlewaste]

Since the Hbomberguy video has dragged everyone back into talking about academia, I have a rant:

The take, "Academic papers and academia in general tend toward a writing style that is intentionally inaccessible to maintain standards of ableism and academic elitism" (woke) is not the same statement as, "Because I do not understand this thing about this topic I have never researched at this level before, the work is inaccessible and therefore in Bad Faith™️" (not only broke but fucking wild).

Working as an academic advisor in my senior year, my specialty was helping people with writing. That included reviewing essays and helping with research mostly, as both of my degrees are research and writing intensive. Even with the MANDATORY Introduction to College Writing class freshman were forced into - unless, of course, you either tested well in AP English Language or passed the writing assessment that allowed you to skip the course (which most people didn't) - I often found myself explaining that academic papers are written with the understanding that the reader already possesses some meaningful amount of context. Students would come to me with full confidence just to show a paper reliant on paraphrasing and regurgitating the source text, ended with whatever hand-wavey, unresearched thoughts they had while reading and call it /Analysis/. Thus would begin the long, arduous process of teaching them how to actually research and structure an academic essay from scratch, down to identifying reputable sources and deciding how many is too many quotes.

As such, while it saddens me to see people put off of academic writing (and research as a whole) for the reason of inaccessibility, I get it. Disregarding the prevalence of paywalls blocking credible published works from the public, I'd argue that most papers assigned to studentsr weren't actually written for students. The 25 page article in the well established medical journal is going to be laden with esoterica and intracultural references; it was written for peer review by other professionals in their field with a baseline of pre-requisite knowledge. Similarly, if you're doing independent research and just roll into a random a decades old article you found on Google Scholar, it's likely to be confusing if you have no backgound in the topic. The expectation that anyone can just dive into a research paper written by an expert and immediately grasp the information provided completely misses the fact that learning is an active practice requiring critical thinking and access to reliable resources.

Why does that matter? Because the core facet of research is taking that confusing, inaccessible academic journal or data and /making it make sense/. Taking the time to learn terms you don't recognize, to read ALL OF the provided context, to reword and recontextualize the information to be digestible to an audience without expertise on the topic, that's THE POINT. When an assigment asks for ten sources, it's not for the sake of making you work harder. The entire exercise is to have you compare and contrast things like word choice, historical context, and author bias so you can synthesize your own understanding of the topic. Entire categories of the research and essay writing community exist simply for this goal: to make complex academic literature accessible to general audiences. It's what Internet Historian and Illuminaughti (fuck if I spelled that right) were pretending to do!

There are a lot of valid points to be made in the discussion of academia being inherently inaccessible. Unfortunately the Internet, specifically social media, has a way of boiling actual conversations down to the bare bones of "Is hard and I don't like it, therefore is bad."

(Note: This does not apply to professors/educators assigning a bunch of text without doing any actual teaching. Expecting everyone to be able to read something and just get it isn't a "challenge in critical thinking", it's bad teaching and makes things harder for people who may already find a learning challenging or inaccessible. Do better. )

Is academia filled with conventions that make it widely inaccessible to people from all education levels? Yes.

Do some people write with as many big words or as much autofellating fluff as possible purely for the purpose of sounding smart? YES.

But, as an academic writer and reader myself, and as a person with a bevvy of peers I respect deeply in the field of research, a significant amount of these articles are written in good faith by people who are using the vocabulary they have. The use of "big" words, esoteric references, and hyper-specific language isn't based in the desire for exclusion, but rather clarity for a peer group who are comfortable with the language being used is it's intended context.

Sorry about all this. I just actually enjoy academia when it's about the love of learning rather than being a pissing contest/bitchfest. Ignore me 😭

[riddle-me-ri]

Alright so this is less romantic and more shitposty but. If I can request the scarecrows' responses to a gotham university psychology student showing up at his doorstep like "hey uh could you look at my thesis?" Like fully prepared to be fear toxin-ed on the spot but absolutely worth the risk cause lord knows that's some shit I'd do 💀

A/N:  hnnggg this shouldn't have taken as long as it did but I kept taking it too seriously except for the absolute crack that it is lmao I have no doubt in reality it'd be a miracle if any of them opened the damn door.

Scarecrows Reacting To A Student Looking for Feedback (crack)

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

First of all, how did you find him?

Secondly, how dare you disturb him?

Are you fearless or just foolishly stupid?

He genuinely can’t tell and he doesn’t want to waste time thinking about it.

However, since you’re here now…

And it doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Clearly, despite how many threats he’s shot your way.

He isn’t opposed to a willing test subject

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow:

Well, this was odd. 

If not also incredibly annoying.

When he hears your reason for being on his front stoop.

He is shocked…

Surely your institution has much more qualified, not to mention more relevant assistance to look over your paper. 

He’s a man of science making headways, he has no time to–

Well, actually…he hasn’t seen very sufficient results in his recent Arkham patients…

BTAS Scarecrow:

Really? Him? 

Even when he was a professor, none of his students came to him for a review.

No doubt he’s itching to just shut the door on you. 

Then again, perhaps he can hold you ransom for some money to fund his toxin…

And on top of that he can also use you for testing the effects of his recent toxin…

How he could make it stronger, faster, last longer…

Besides, he’s never gotten a chance to properly review a term paper..

This should be fun. 

TNBA Scarecrow: 

He’s likely to ignore it, if not open it, yell at you and then slam the door.

This Scarecrow doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Surely, you have other institutional superiors that you can go to?

Why would you willingly dive headfirst into danger? 

Unless…you just don’t care? 

If you’re so willing to get into danger, perhaps he should take advantage of it. 

He debates with himself for a minute…

Before finally just gassing you with his toxin. 

Taking sweet delight in your screams.

Fear State Scarecrow: 

You should consider yourself lucky that he even answered the door.

Like seriously, the only reason he answered was because of your incessant knocking. 

He had half a mind to slip on his mask and inject you with toxin and be done with it.

He’s far too busy planning his Fear State Theory into motion.

Jonathan can’t have any distractions or loose ends…

Everyone has their role to play, he was so sure that Gotham would enter it’s Fear State seamlessly. 

Patience running low, he does open the door, and one threat is all you get. 

When you don’t leave, it’s very much your fault that you’re screaming bloody murder down the street. 

Year One Scarecrow:

Jonathan groans at the prospect. 

His past sure has a strange way of following him somehow. 

Again, you should be surprised he even answers the door. 

But you kept pushing your paper underneath his front door. 

Quite, infuriating him. 

It takes a few more threats and slams of the door before he finally reaches his breaking point. 

He slaps on his mask, believing he’s done all he could to be rid of you. 

Perhaps, a reminder will help you.

He’s no professor, a scholar on fear. 

He’s The Scarecrow, the Master of Fear…and you’ve just experienced his wrath as you breathe in the toxic fumes. 

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

Jonathan is confused, if not also agitated. 

Is this some kind of joke? 

His lived a long pathetic life of humiliation…

He doesn’t need it coming to him, knocking at his front door. 

You can’t just expect anyone with a PhD is willing to help you…

What kind of simpleton just walks up to a known high-class criminal, a criminally insane criminal? 

Honestly, when spoken like that, it was quite admirable. 

Took a lot of courage…bravery…or just a huge lack of common sense. 

Yes, yes, he’ll take a look, but first…indulge him in your fears

(it’ll help him in his own research later) 

HQ:TAS Scarecrow:

Jonathan thinks this must be some kind of joke.

Surely, this is the Legion pulling his leg, what else could it be?

Not only that, how else would you found out where he lived?

It has to be a joke. 

He tries to play along, but is quick to realize you’re actually being serious. 

Probably the only one that’s actually going to help you with your thesis paper. 

1000/10 would recommend 

And you may even get a member of the Legion of Doom as a friend. 

HHSD Scarecrow: 

I’m surprised Grandpa could hear you knocking.

Just kidding, only a little, I love to love and rag on this version when I can. 

But you really shouldn’t have picked a night when there were Elvira re-runs. 

Jonathan opens the door, reluctantly and is perplexed, but immediately annoyed. 

He didn’t have time for these things when he WAS a professor. 

He thought he left this type of harassment years ago, why do you choose to haunt him now with it? 

When you fail to leave on your own accord. He advises you to go away through a speaker by his door. 

When you still refuse, he decides enough is enough. 

Jonathan was inspired by that intriguing night at Crystal Cove, as he used a maniacal jack-al-lantern of his own to run you off.

[luvxiem]

luxiem in hogwarts

word count ! ~800 pairing ! no pairing! just me brainrotting over the luxiem boys in a hp setting :) possible pairing on a (maybe) future part tho w reader being in different houses genre ! fluff

.｡.:*☆ IKE EVELAND !

he's a slytherin !

he doesn't fit the bill of mean dark and brooding but he's just as sly and cunning as the rest of his house

particularly talented in transfiguration and charms, easily becoming a professor's favorite

his patronus is a swan! beautiful and territorial

gets assigned prefect in his fifth year but he went out of his way to write the headmaster requesting to relinquish the role because he doesn't want to deal with first years

doesn't play quidditch but always goes to the matches to support his friends—although he still shows up in emerald green

can often be found in the library reading or studying

somehow managed to get a permission slip to check out books from the restricted section???

he's not planning on becoming the next dark lord but he finds the subject matter incredibly interesting... for better or for worse

.｡.:*☆ LUCA KANESHIRO !

what else could he be but gryffindor ?

loveable and kind, his boisterous laughter is easily contagious and he never fails to draw smiles from those around him

he's an animagus! begged ike to help him after finding out his talents in transfiguration, although was devastated when he found out his animal was a golden retriever and not the lion he so desperately wanted

the amount of head pats he got that day more than made up for it though

naturally gifted in ancient runes and quidditch

plays chaser and got the honor of becoming quidditch captain in his fifth year

constantly pulling pranks and giggling behind corners alongside shu

the first to approach ike and adopts him into his friend group

or was it the other way around?

if luca never notices when ike slips away to deal with some rather distasteful individuals

well

what he doesn't know won't hurt him

.｡.:*☆ MYSTA RIAS !

what a lovely hufflepuff

very skilled duelist and a prodigy at defense against the dark arts, also weirdly good at divination???

became a running gag to ask him which first years would be assigned to which house to the point where his housemates will do bets on it every start of term

turns out his great great grandma was a seer, so there's that

the first to manage a fully corporal patronus which was a phoenix ("so cool!" luca whines)

became friends with the other boys after he got paired with vox in potions and got hard carried

he was a bit embarrassed but thankfully his partner was cool and reviewed everything with him so that he can do it himself later on

he's rather quiet for a hufflepuff but that doesn't make him any less kind

he's protective of this ragtag group of friends and won't let anything as petty as house rivalry to get in the way of that

.｡.:*☆ SHU YAMINO !

ravenclaw, obviously

although he hates studying

talented in arithmancy and charms (and one of the few to take advanced arithmancy too!)

his patronus is a dolphin!

likes to plan pranks with luca, often at vox's expense (shu ran away cackling as the two gryffindors duked it out on the second floor, luca leaving with puke green hair and vox's clothes dyed highlighter yellow)

can often be found chilling in empty classrooms with his friends while working on his own things

even though they're not making active conversation, he enjoys being in their presence anyways

when hanging out with the other boys he's happy to let them take the lead, offering support in the form of joyful laughter and deez nutz jokes

one time in third year he finally caved in to luca's begging and decided to try out for ravenclaw's quidditch team, except the day of the actual try outs was too cold so he ended up ditching it to go play gobstones with his brother in the castle's kitchen (hufflepuff privileges, apparently)

.｡.:*☆ VOX AKUMA !

gryffindor !!

very good at potions (even takes the newt level course!) and oddly enough, actually enjoys history of magic

the only one who manages to stay awake in that class, good for him.

his patronus is a snowy owl!! it's so pretty

helps tutor other students in his free time so it's pretty common to see him in the library or in the courtyard

gets SO many love letters and love potion spiked chocolates on valentine's day that at this point he just doesn't open any mail one month before and one month after the cursed holiday because nothing is safe

very protective of his friends !!!! do not anger him because he WILL come after you especially if it's less than sane admirers who think they can get vox through them

he and ike are a rather terrifying duo

speaking of ike

leader of ike's totally fake very much a joke he he ha ha funny not real fanclub

definitely not serious

no sir

WRITTEN ON ! 092222

[thetypedwriter]

Babel Book Review

Babel Book Review by R.F. Kuang

This book was so incredibly impressive in multiple ways. I was blown away by Kuang’s sheer amount of research in terms of history, etymology, linguistics, and sociology. There were so many aspects of this novel that required her to dig deeper into subjects and Babel is an incredible display of her hard work and effort (and PHD’s). 

Babel tells the story of a young boy who is taken from his home in Canton and trained by Professor Lovell in England. Given a new name, Robin Swift, the best tutors, and a strict schedule that dominates his childhood, Robin is forced to forget his home and dead family in order to assimilate into White British society, a society that sees him as foreign and less than human, even as they rely on his Cantonese in order to power their city. 

Blending realistic, brutal history of the British empire—bloody politics and colonialism included—with the magical element of silver bars and silver-working, Kuang creates a beautiful blend of accuracy and the fantastic. In this world she’s created, silver working is birthed through what is lost in translation, requiring different languages and people who deeply understand it. 

The effects of this translation are magical bars that can be imbued with a variety of purposes like making carts go faster, ships sail smoother, and teapots stay hot—only if you can afford it, of course. 

Robin’s childhood is stained with memories of Professor Lovell’s cold shoulder, violent temper, and reticence to admit that Robin is actually his son. With Lovell looming over him, Robin is relieved when he’s old enough to attend Oxford as a Babbler, a revered translator. 

A good portion of the book details Robin’s stay at Oxford, including his studies with his other cohort members: Ramy, Victoire, and Letty. 

I could argue that this section was a bit long, where we have chapters upon chapters of Robin attending classes, dreaded school functions, mundane translation work, or spending time with one of his friends but overall, I enjoyed it. 

This is where Kuang focuses a lot of energy and pages to linguistics, building her world and magic system of silver bars, and developing the relationships between Robin and the others. These chapters are also steeped in history, with several of them almost coming across like a textbook. 

Again, if this sounds boring, it wasn’t. I found the historical recounting of the British empire a fascinating subject when used in conjunction with the silver bars and Robin’s eventual epiphany of his own situation and latent childhood cruelty. 

Some much needed spice came in the form of Griffin and the Hermes Society. Griffin, it turns out, is Robin’s half-older brother and also an unnamed heir of Professor Lovell. 

He is a part of a rebel organization whose purpose is to destroy Babel, stop the pillaging of other languages for Britain’s greed and pleasure, and eventually, to change the course of history by dismantling war plans between China and England. 

I could go on and on by summarizing the rest of the book (which would contain massive spoilers), but the ending focuses on Robin and his friends going to Canton themselves, witnessing the British trying to get the Chinese addicted to opium, a harsh death that leads Robin and his cohort to join the Hermes society, and then a fight against the empire itself as Robin and his rag-tag survivors destroy Babel within in order to bring Britain to its knees and leave Canton alone for good. 

The plot of this book itself was solid. I don’t say fantastic because there was never at any point where I was truly shocked or blown away by a surprise twist or revelation. The characters you think will die, do die, and the characters that seem suspicious of betrayal, do in fact betray others. 

This would be a criticism of obvious expectations, but I don’t think astonishing was what Kuang was going for. I think she was going for more of a streamlined story in which, yes, the white girl does feel slighted and must take action in order to save herself.

 I did like the occasional separate POV’s that would explain a character’s backstory and motivation, but in general, Kuang was trying to tell a realistic story and she did, including adding historical footnotes, remarks on translation, and word definitions that I found fascinating, if a bit obtuse. 

Setting wise, Oxford was brilliant. You can tell that Kuang is half in love with Oxford, which makes for very pleasurable reading. As I studied abroad there myself, it was very nostalgic and lovely to read about its cobblestone streets and spires glinting in the moonlight. 

My biggest gripe with the book are its characters. They’re not bad, not by any stretch of 

the imagination, but none of them felt very fleshed out either. The only character I found myself really understanding and relating to was Robin, as we spend the entire book in his head. I found Robin to be a sweet, tortured soul who took us on a riveting journey of self-discovery and eventual, brutal revolution. 

All the remaining characters in the book were fine, but I never felt like I knew them on any grounds. It annoyed me when Kuang would have a paragraph or two every other chapter discussing how much Robin loved his cohort members and list off random things about them, like how Victoire preferred her tea or how Ramy acted in the morning. These idiosyncrasies should have been shown to me, not told. 

The book would have been at least a third longer if Kuang had truly tried to develop the characters naturally in a way where their connections felt believable and organic, so I understand why she didn’t, but it comes at the cost of having shallow characters with little depth and minimal attachments to the reader. When several characters died, I didn’t bat an eye. 

I teared up slightly when Robin was miserable in prison, but the deaths of others? Not a blink. 

While I understand that Kuang’s focus was more on the history, sociology, and linguistics, as I mentioned at the beginning of this review, by shafting the characters, it does make this a good book rather than an exceptional one. 

For me, a very character-driven reader, no matter how stunning the research and backdrop of your novel, if you don’t have strong characters to pull the reader through, it will never amount to a book I would consider great. 

However, that being said, I really enjoyed this book for what it was and the information it contained, even though we never learned Robin Swift’s real name. It was a very different read than the novels I’ve been ingesting lately, coming across as refreshing and informative. 

I really enjoyed the book, despite not having attachments to characters, because of all that I learned and the lens of history it offered. 

Recommendation: If you like history, revolution, languages, and magic, this is your book. If you wanted a different perspective on the fall of the British empire mixed in with fantastical silver bars, you will find nothing more polished or better explained than Babel. If history bores you, the world and characters will not be enough to pull you through to the end. But as a lover of history and different perspectives, I bolted down Babel and cherished how much I learned in the process. 

“Language was always the companion of the empire, and as such, together they begin, grow, and flourish. And later, together, they fall.” —Antonio De Nebrija 

Score: 7/10

[elliepassmore]

Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands review

5/5 stars Recommended if you like: cozy fantasy, fairies, light academia, epistolary narrative Big thanks to Netgalley, Del Rey, and the author for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries review I'm so so happy I got approved for this! I absolutely loved Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia and am very thrilled that I got to read more about her, Shadow, and Wendell's adventures so soon after reading the first book (now if only I can get that luck with the Divine Rivals sequel). This book opens in September of the same year the last one ended in. Emily and Wendell have been back at Cambridge for some time now and Emily, now tenured, is working on research to locate Wendell's door. Emily does seem to have some new social skills, though these seem largely to be remnants of what she learned in Ljosland more than anything and she is still overall the same grumpy, focused professor that we loved from the first book. The stakes in this book are a little higher, with Wendell's stepmother upping the ante, which results in more than one dangerous encounter (along with all the other, normal dangerous encounters). Admittedly I did like the more laidback pace of the first book more, but I was also interested in seeing how things would play out with Wendell's door and his stepmother, so I was glad to see that come into play in this book. It also means we get to see a bit more of Fairy, albeit a different realm/kingdom than the frosty one we saw in book 1. Emily is, as mentioned the same as usual, if not a smidge less reticent when it comes to socializing. She remains focused on her work and has an avid interest in cataloguing everything they come across on their adventure. I appreciated her methodical thinking paired with the instincts she's gained over years working with/among fairies. I also liked that her caring side was shown a bit more in this book. She's worried and cares for Wendell on numerous occasions, which brings out that softer side of her, but there are also moments when she worries for her niece, Ariadne, who is a member of this expedition. Wendell is also the same: strikingly glib and woefully uninterested in hardships/labor (and ridiculously in love with Emily). I enjoyed the humor he brought to the book and the fact that even with everything else going on he was still fussy about their accommodations. We get to see more of Wendell's magic in this one, and it was interesting to learn more about what he can do. Ariadne, Emily's niece, is a new addition to the team. At 19, she's an undergrad in the dryadology department and somewhat idolizes her aunt. She's eager to learn and has a fierce stubborn streak that helps her get her way on more than one occasion. Ariadne is quick on her feet and also makes friends easily, which also helps the group out on more than one occasion. Personality-wise, she provides a nice counterweight to Emily and adds a bubblier aspect to the story. Another new member of the team is Rose, the dryadology department chair and someone who is not on good terms with Emily and Wendell for the first part of the book. Rose is an old-school professor and is resistant both to new methodologies as well as to Emily's trust in certain fairie elements. He kind of bulldozes his way onto the expedition and I wasn't a huge fan of him at first, but the longer the trip goes on, the more tolerable he becomes, and he and Emily reach a sort of understanding and actually end up being buddies by the end. Shadow returns in this book as the loving and spoiled dog we know him as. There were some mentions of his advanced age in this book, which I don't remember being a thing in the first one (though perhaps I forgot), but I was glad to see the pup again. Poe also comes back and I was glad to see him. Things seem to be going well for him and his lady, and I was glad to see the little guy. Wendell's cat, Orga, also makes an appearance and I already like her. She's aloof and fierce and more than willing to claw people up if they aren't doing what she wants. We don't get to see much of her, but I'm looking forward to more appearances. We also meet a fuchszwerge, a new kind of fairie, that Emily names Snowbell. He's a vicious thing but has the excitement of a kid, and I did like the interactions with him. Overall, I enjoyed this continuation of Emily's story and the new characters and settings it brought. The end of the book said the adventure would continue in "Book 2," which I'm assuming is a typo for "Book 3," so I look forward to whatever comes next for this little group!

[haneulislearning]

2024년 한국어 목표; Korean Language Goals

With my study abroad date coming closer and closer (only 19 days away ㅇ.ㅇ), I figured it was time to share some of my language/Korean specific goals for the year!

These aren't all of the things I want to "accomplish" for the year, and some are long-term while others are short-term goals, but it felt better to have something physical to look at to remind me of what I am aiming to do this year and have my thoughts organized.

The hardest thing about this is reminding myself (Hi, if you don't know me, I fear academic failure and set high expectations for myself), that it will be okay if I do these things only partially or if something didn't quite meet my expectations that it is okay.

There are some things that I want to aim for as a personal milestone that I didn't list here in an attempt to NOT overwhelm myself to get it done.

(Like trying to read Harry Potter in Korean, because 1. I am NOT at that level yet, and that will take quite the time to go through and 2. I want to buy the book second hand because JK Rowling is a bitch and I don't know yet where I could thrift the book while in Korea. Mostly want to read it because it is a book that I read over and over again as a child so the concepts/ideas/plot is familiar, just not the nuanced vocabulary and grammar)

So I am viewing this less so as a list of things to do before the year ends, and more as a set of remiders, affirmations, and sources for me to review throughout the year as I am abroad and expanding my use and knowledge of Korean.

There is so much to say about my goals and views of langauge learning, but I don't want to make this my longest post ever, so maybe some other day I will share some of my more abstract goals in another post.

Anyways, enough rambling, here's what is listed in my journal:

Listen to Korean podcasts

Become comfrotable reading short stories + news articles

Journal more often in Korean

Annotate + break down THREE songs in Korean (*not in my journal, but the goal is to understand, memorize, and practice reading speed and listening with this)

Read + annotate one book in Korean

Try learning AT LEAST 10 new words a week (*I see this one either not lasting long or turning more into 10 words every OTHER week lol)

Review each month what you've learned (*just trying to go back and refresh myself on things that I learned recently but may not have had the chance to put into practical use often)

Other notes:

Use your resoruces! I have so many Korean books and websites/apps saved, and I will use them for about a week before I forget they exist, so this is my reminder to look at them a little more often!

If you know how to say it, say it! Don't hesitate! The amount of times my friends and I have decided to speak in Korean to each other only to say something in English and then quickly realize we 100% know how to say that in AT LEAST broken Korean :/. Or when my professor would ask us to share what we did this weekend in Korean and think that my sentence or phrase is wrong, only for someone else to say something similar and realize I actually knew how to say it. Better to try and maybe be wrong and get corrected than to not try at all and learn nothing.

Keep it simple, but try to build your sentences! Actually a reminder from my Korean professor lol! If you don't know how to say it, look it up of course, but you can't pull out your phone in every conversation you have! Sometimes it is easier to keep it simple and short and others it's great to build on and connect where you can. The whole point of my last class was to work on using connectors and conjuctions for our sentences to lengthen them, but it's not always possible. Some days it is just easier to say 네 or 아 그래요 and move on if you know what I mean.

Any progress is good! There have been multiple times this year where I have literally gone to Korean tutoring and forgotten every Korean word I know and beat myself up over the fact that I feel like I "failed". Simply put, I burn out too quickly sometimes and take the minor victories for granted. Celebrate anytime you can when it comes to remembering a small vocab word or how to order food in Korean!

Consistency is Key! Seems obvious, but one summer in between semesters I didn't study Korean for at least a month and wanted to cry when I tried to self study again before the new semester because that sense of failure was kicking in and I couldn't remember a lot of what I had been practicing. Even if it is just reviewing vocab, watching a youtube video in Korean, or even a K-drama, consistency is key when it comes to learning. It doesn't have to be a lot, just something.

Explore ways to learn, make it fun for you! I have only been learning Korean for almost 2 years now, and now that I am going abroad I'm realizing that I will be in much more different situations in terms of school and socializing, so how I experience Korean is going to be different for a little while. This is just a reminder to take advantage of fun opportunities and see where and when you can learn Korean.

You're probably doing better than you think you are. Don't stress. I feel like nothing needs to be said here, but if you look at where you started versus where you are now I am sure the distance is actually farther than it seems.

[nxjirx]

⊹₊ ⋆ Tears For Another Day ꜜ

pairing: Vil Schoenheit x reader

└➤ 。✑ ─────┐

School stress piles up and an accident ensues. Don’t worry, Vil is there to take care of you.

ﾟ･｡･ ┊͙

Slight angst to comfort! Reader is gender neutral but they’re mentioned wearing makeup.

Warnings: implied panic attack, small injury described

Work under the cut!

‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - - - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿

I hate school. Between the rigorous curriculum of the college and playing therapist for the alumni as per the request (more like threat) of Crowley, things quickly became overwhelming.

So, it came as no surprise when I’d finally had enough one evening, storming out of the alchemy classroom, Professor Crewel’s confused yelling trailing behind me.

It was silly, it really was. The end of the term was near, and as a result we were reviewing for finals. The potion we were making was simple, something we had already gone over at the beginning of the semester. Foolishly I let myself relax, thinking that since I’d already done this before I could take it easy. Just this last class period and I would be free to go back to the dorm and rest.

I glanced to my right and saw Ace and Deuce bickering over the assignments instructions. Ace was holding the beaker above his head and out of Deuce’s reach, who was angrily insisting he do the work in Ace’s stead.

Deciding to interfere before a disaster occurred I swiveled to face them.

“Boys,” was all that had to come out of my mouth to get them to stop in their tracks. The stern tone and questioning arch of my brows enough to clue them in on my growing disapproval at their behavior. They glanced at each other, then me, then back at each other before sighing and reluctantly muttering a ‘sorry [__],’ and getting back to work.

I fixed myself in my seat and went back to work, only looking up when I heard the pitter-patter of Grim’s paws and the jingle of his collar as he climbed onto the desk.

“Here you go, a bundle of hawthorn branches, as requested,” he boasted, chest fluffing out and tail curling back and forth in a dance.

“Thank you Grim, you’re the best,”

“OF COURSE I AM-“

“Grim,” I started, a knowing look in my eye. “What have we said about volume?”.

He huffed in obvious disapproval but heeded my advice anyways. “As I was saying, you as my loyal henchman should clearly know by now I AM indeed the best, there’s no need for you to remind me,”.

I giggled and ran my hand from the top of his head to his tail. “Yes oh-so-magnificent-Grim, how dare I forget such crucial information,” humoring him was always so fun.

He let out a series of happy trilling noises and bounded back to the ingredient table for the rest of the supplies.

I picked up the hawthorn branches and began attempting to remove the sharp thorns littering it’s surface (as per its namesake). I tried twisting and cutting, but to no avail, as the thorns stared back at me in mockery, still in pristine condition. I felt tears of frustration prick at my eyes, the stress from the week and lack of rest boosting my irritation.

I kept at it until my vision went dark around the corners, as if a vignette filter had been put over my eyes. Star like dots appeared and I felt weightless for a second. All the hyperventilating and straining myself combined with fatigue were finally catching up to me. Before I knew it, the hand holding the pliers slipped from the force I was using, and in my disoriented state I could do nothing but watch as it sliced the palm of my hand.

I instantly recoiled, a yelp tearing through my throat as the tears from earlier resurfaced and began trailing down my face. The cut was long and thin; not something that would scar, but definitely something that would hurt for a while. I decided I’d finally had enough and in a fit of childish irritation I angrily grasped the safety goggles off my head and threw them across the room.

By now, the rest of the class had noticed my distress and began staring, even the professor had stopped his critique of a students potion and glanced at me in confusion and concern. I ripped myself from my seat and pushed my way to the front of the room and out the door. Footsteps and the voices of who I recognized to be Ace and Deuce echoed behind me, but they only spurred me on to run faster.

I picked up speed and turned corner after corner, only eventually slowing down after reaching the schools courtyard. It was empty, as classes were still on-going which I was greatly thankful for. I dragged myself over to the nearest tree and slid against the trunk, falling to the ground and pulling my knees to my chest.

I glanced down at my injured hand, the blood was dry now, it had been smeared and irritated because of my frantic running. My other hand balled up into a fist and came to my face in an attempt to wipe my remaining tears away. I felt my mascara and rest of my makeup smudge even more, and I was now certain I looked even more pathetic than before.

I curled in on myself in an attempt to block out the world. I was so focused on tuning everything out I failed to hear the dull thumping sound of someone walking on the grass towards me.

Feet shuffled just at the edge of my vision, and I looked up to see a crisp uniform, a Pomefiore armband attached to it. Vil was leaning downwards slightly in order to meet my gaze. His brows furrowed and yet he said nothing.

“Oh- uhm hi, yeah uhm hi Vil,” I began, startled at his sudden appearance. “Is there, uh, can I help you?”.

Even now, he said nothing but it was obvious the gears in his head were turning. I shifted uncomfortable under his gaze, having someone that perfect and pristine look down at you (quite literally) was nerve wracking. Him standing next to me in this condition was an oxymoron in of itself.

“Come,” he said, extending a hand out to me. I failed to register his words properly the first time, and seemingly growing impatient, Vil decided to take matters into his own hands by reaching for my shoulders and pulling me up to stand.

Curious and yearning for comfort, I followed the blond out the courtyard and back into the school. We eventually reached the hall of mirrors and faced the Pomefiore dorm’s mirror. Sensing my hesitation, Vil looked towards me and offered a hand.

“It’s ok, come on let me help,” and that was all it took for me to grasp onto the blazer of his uniform and follow him in.

I’d been in this dorm before, and yet every-time I was astounded at the grandeur of it. Living in a place like Ramshackle, it was a shock to process how someone could live in a place this nice.

Assuming we would be talking in the common room, I made a line for the seats when I felt a hand tug me in the opposite direction. I looked back at Vil and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Where are we going?”

“My room, I’ll take care of you there, don’t you worry,” he reassured.

We did a series of turns until reaching what was obviously the dorm head’s room. It was only when he opened the door that I realized I was still tightly grasping his hand. He sat me down at the foot of his bed and I hastily let go of his hand, posture unsure and rigid as to not ruin the crisp white satin beneath me.

Vil had taken to searching through his drawers, pulling out various beauty supplies and only stopping once in a while to organize them on his vanity table.

“Wipes, moisturizer, toner…” he’d mutter, no- not mutter, it was more coherent yet softer than a mutter, Vil was just like that, everything he did was so effortlessly refined. So pretty.

Finally - seemingly satisfied- he turned on his heels and faced me once more.

“Come on now,” a hand extended once more, hooked under my arm and guided me towards the bench centered in-front of his vanity and the mirror on the wall.

Still shaky, I made my way over and took a seat. Vil positioned himself right behind me, only bending slightly in order to make eye contact with me through the mirror. I squirmed in my seat, he was so close, the scent of expensive cologne reaching me and his warmth coming closer as he put a his hands on my shoulders and his head next to mine.

I scooted back a bit, nervous from the distance or rather the lack-of it. “To do what I must I’d like to first put your hair back for you, are you okay with that dearest?” He said, hints of a smile tugging at his lips. A murmur was all I could manage as a response. He was being so sweet, so nice, and to… me? Me, of all people. After seeing the mess I’d made of myself he still chose to help me. I had known Vil for a while sure, but I wouldn’t exactly call him my best friend or anything, we were just…. mutuals is all.

“Nuh uh uh darling, that won’t do,” he tsked in a mock-reprimanding tone. “I want to help you, but I won’t touch you until you’ve clearly given me permission to. So, I’ll ask again; May I touch your hair?”

A nod and a nervous gulp, “Yes, yes you can,”.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Very well, do tell me if anything I do hurts or makes you uncomfortable. Your happiness is the top priority as of right now,”.

He began to brush through my hair, gently, as to avoid tugging on any knots. He reached into a side cabinet and pulled out a cloth head band. A hand gently grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards, putting the headband over my head and arranging my hair to fit comfortably through it. He smiled “There we go, I’m going to take your makeup off now, okay?”. Another shy nod and he got to work.

I watched as he sorted through his makeup wipes and a variety of makeup removes for the ruined mascara that stained my skin. His fingers were quick, almost like this was all being done by muscle memory. Soon enough, he had turned back around and grabbed my face once more, a wipe in hand.

I stayed still and let him do what he did best, only slightly tilting my head at his command. It felt cool and refreshing, getting all the grime off of my face was already making me feel so much better than before.

“Now, please do close your eyes for me darling, we do not want me injuring your eyes by accident do we?” he gently chided.

I giggled and complied to his request. He swiped gently over my eyes, careful to not tug at the skin or my eyelashes.

“Thank you,”.

“Hm?” He said as my eyes flickered back open.

“For uh, for helping me I mean. You didn’t have to, but you did! I know you’re always busy, I mean how could you not be? Ive witnessed firsthand how chaotic your schedule can be,” a smile rose to my face, “I realize we aren’t exactly.. the closest, per say; but you really saved me back there you know? So, thank you Vil. I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me in a long time,”.

I watched as his eyes widened for a second before Vil turned his head slightly, his hand raising slightly to cover his face. The fainted hint of a rosy hue tainted his cheeks as he began to giggle. It was a warm and comforting sound, like the droplets of the first spring rain hitting the ground.

He began to apply moisturizer and various other skin products to my face while he spoke. “Im glad I have managed to brighten your mood,” tender hands brushed cold creams on my face, a welcomed sensation when coming from the pretty blond before me. “I just could not stand seeing you in such a state. Surely you understand , no dear? Someone like you does not deserve to be so down in the dumps,”.

He gave me the last finishing touches of his beauty regimen before removing the hair band and beginning to style my hair.

“If I may,” he started. “What caused you to react in such a drastic manner? Its very unlike you,”.

“Ahh, just school stuff, stress, Ace, Deuce, Grim, you know the usual,” I told him in a more light hearted tone.

“Haha, very well. Do feel free to come to me if you are ever in need of a pair of ears to talk to. Whatever the problem, I am here to listen, ok?”.

“Yes Vil, thank you,”.

He left his room for a moment only to come back with a small first aid kit. He gently grabbed my injured hand and got to work on cleaning it.

“All done, you should be all better now but do go to the infirmary if any irritation occurs,” I watched as he put away the supplies and turned to smile at me once more.

With that I gathered all my things and made my way back to my own dorm. Vil had insisted on accompanying me, only leaving once he had made sure I made it inside the building safely.

He had stood by the door as I unlocked it, and I looked back at him once more before I headed in. I felt his hand brush back a few stray baby hairs that had come loose from my hairstyle in the wind.

“Goodnight, sleep well dearest,” and with a kiss to my cheek he made his way back down the pathway to my door and back to his dorm.

[splendidissimus]

May 1999 - "I need you"

((Content warning: emotional breakdown))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 10: Stranded / "You said you'd never leave." ))

((This gets kinda fluffy by the end, and is pretty much about recovery.))

Genre: hurt / comfort

Romance level: moderate

Angst level: 2/5

Draco's headspace: inconsolable

((words: ~2800))

------------------------------------

It was Saturday. Theo was methodically reviewing potions with a loose study circle of most of the other seventh-years who had the class, keeping one ear on Granger's half-frantic muttering because, all else aside, let it never be said she wasn't excellent at studying. It was just over a month until their exams started, and she already felt like she was falling behind, a sentiment he didn't share, but she wouldn't miss a detail. 

It took him by surprise when his pocket got warm. He still carried around the enchanted paper he and Draco used to write back and forth while he was at Hogwarts, but Draco had fallen out of using it except to answer him. He hadn't initiated conversation in… it had to be since before Easter break, so at least a month. 

The last thing written on the paper, in a loose, sloppy version of Draco's handwriting, was 'I need you.'

Theo immediately tuned out the other students and used the special quill that went with the paper to write back. 'Anything. What do you need?' 

But Draco didn't answer. He tried for almost twenty minutes, writing until Draco's entry was pushed almost off the top of the page, then made a decision — he had to go. If Draco needed him and couldn't tell him why, he had to find out. He swept all of his things together into his bag and left the library without a word to anyone else. 

He kept the paper close inside his pocket in case Draco wrote back, though. 

He elected not to waste time going to the dungeons to get rid of his stuff; he'd just get out past the gates and Disapparate… That was what was going through his mind when he turned a corner and ran into Slughorn. Literally. 

He bounced back and nearly fell, fumbling his bag, though Slughorn was unmoved. "Careful there. We're certainly in a hurry to study, aren't we?" 

"I've got to go," Theo said, gathering his bag again. "It's an emergency." 

"Well, you've just passed the toilets," Slughorn chortled, amusing himself. Theo gave him an irritated look, and the man read the mood. "You mean leave the school?" he inquired genially.

"Yes, I have to go home. I'll be back as soon as possible, I'll do detention or whatever you want, but I've got to go." 

"Now, there's no sense in detention as a fine for misbehaviour if it's not going to be a deterrent. I can't authorise you to leave—"

He was pretty sure he could have found a way for someone who had something to offer him, Theo thought irritably. "Fine, but I'm still going."

Slughorn raised his hand. "Don't rush. I was going to say there's no need for you to run off and break school rules when we can explain the situation. Don't be so quick to buck the system when you can use it." 

Was that supposed to be life advice? He'd be a lot more impressed with anything he had to teach if this wasn't a professor who all but ignored his existence for two years because of his last name, and literally ignored Draco for all of last term to the point where he didn't even report that he stopped attending classes…

Slughorn put a hand on his back and didn't let him escape; they made their way over to the west tower and the Headmistress's office, Theo chafing every step for the wasted time, clutching the paper in his pocket and willing it to get warm. 

"Cover your ears now," Slughorn chided Theo almost playfully as they approached the gargoyle guarding the stairs. "Abyssinian." The gargoyle jumped out of the way and let them onto the moving staircase.

"Minerva." Slughorn didn't really check to see if she was available before speaking, which made her look a little bit annoyed already as she looked up from whatever was laid out on her desk. "Young Mister Nott here would like to speak with you about a weekend pass to go home."

"This weekend?" she pointed out sharply. "You are aware that the memorial of the battle will be held tomorrow. Missing it is out of the question."

"I don't care about a weekend pass, I'm just telling you I'm leaving," he said tightly. "I have got to go, it's an emergency, and I'd be gone already if I didn't run into him." He jerked his head at Slughorn.

"Mister Nott," she said sternly. "I am aware of your… home situation. If there is an emergency with your sister or her children, I'm sure that—"

He clenched his hands into tight fists. "It's not about that at all. I'm not a kid; I've got responsibilities that are frankly a lot more important than these exams." She didn't look particularly impressed at that assessment. "I've been helping look after someone who's sick, and they just messaged me for help, and I've got to go." 

"Calm down. Consider the situation. They have time to owl you, but no one else could have helped by now?" she said reasonably, the epitome of pragmatic rationality. 

"It's not like that!" He yanked out the paper and slapped it on her desk. "That's called an Owlless, it's in real time, and he called for help almost half an hour ago." And he was trapped here, because these people wouldn't let him go without kissing the ring of their paperwork — it was fully within his power to get to Draco and he was being held back by rules. Oh how he hated society. 

Slughorn sidled up to the desk, peering over her arm at it. "Now, that's an interesting bit of workmanship, isn't it?" 

McGonagall skimmed the paper, parsing how it worked. Then her lips pressed into such a flat line they disappeared. "Malfoy." 

"He's my friend," he said defiantly. "And he's sick, really sick, because Voldemort cursed him. He could be dying right now because you're not letting me go see what's wrong! Maybe you don't care," he added acidly. That's right, did she think he'd forgotten her sending Draco to detention last year, knowing exactly what that meant? Even if he antagonised her for half the year, she should have been better. Yeah, he wasn't impressed with any of their nobility, no matter how society decided they were the heroes.

"Mister Nott," she warned. He was unapologetic but didn't push it. She skimmed the note again, then folded it and handed it back. "Be back before classes on Monday, and if you miss the memorial tomorrow I shall expect an essay on the impact of the battle." She nodded toward the fireplace. "You can floo from here."

"Thank you," he forced himself to say, because society demanded it, took back his Owlless before Slughorn could make it disappear, and almost ran to the fireplace. The floo powder box opened itself as he approached, he took a pinch, and called "Malfoy Manor!" as he stepped into the flames.

The world spun, showing him flashes of kitchens and lobbies across the country, and then he stepped out in the Malfoy drawing room. "Draco!" he immediately yelled, throwing his bag down. A scan of the room showed it was empty and he ran out, calling for him. "Draco! Draco, I'm here, tell me where you are!"

Parlour, window seat, both empty. He called for Draco again and ran back to the stairs, focused on the library at the top. Or maybe his bedroom… or that second-floor window… 

He heard a squeak from below him. "Mister Nott!" The house elf was quavering beside a closed door in the hall going back past the staircase, and when she saw him looking she pointed at it urgently. "Master Draco is here, sir!" 

Theo jumped the last two steps to get back down, and when he was back on the ground he oriented himself and realised that was Draco's mother's room — tacitly off limits unless she was entertaining. "Is she here?" If she was, if Draco was with her, then he wasn't needed and she'd probably consider him intruding… unless Draco called him even though he had her…?

But the house elf shook her head vigorously, ears flapping. "Mistress isn't home, only Master Draco! Please help…" She wrung her bony hands.

He didn't have to be asked again. He opened the door and looked around frantically. "Draco?"

Draco was in a chair isolated in the corner away from the rest of the seating, with one foot drawn up in the chair to hide behind his knee, holding his head in both hands, sobbing. 

He came to him and pulled down his leg. "It's okay, I'm here." He tried to pull his hands away so he could see him. He touched his heart monitor on the way to see if he was having a bad spell, but his pulse looked okay, and that was a relief. "Are you okay? Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing… Everything!" He bent over double and sobbed into his knees. 

"It's okay…" Theo hugged him and rubbed his back, looking around. Nothing actually looked obviously wrong, and he seemed to be okay, physically. He didn't think he was panicking, he wasn't sick, so… 

"Master Draco can't stop crying," the house elf said in a small voice, and he looked back at her. She was pulling down her ears. "For hours, if it goes away it comes back." 

He looked around again, running his fingers through Draco's hair. Next to his seat, there was tea and chocolate, showing how the house elf had tried to help, and an empty potion; he sniffed the potion bottle and identified a Calming Draught, which had either not helped or worn off, and touching the remains of the tea found it cold. There were nibbles taken out of the chocolate.

Draco had actually tried, he realised. Really tried. He hadn't pushed it down or ignored it, or hidden where no one could find him to try to cover it up. He'd done everything he could think of to make himself feel better. He'd taken the potion, he'd taken the chocolate even though he didn't like to eat, he'd moved to his mother's room where he felt safe for comfort, and when he realised it wasn't getting better, he called for help — for the first time in years. It felt huge. 

He sat down on his knees and kissed the top of Draco's head, rubbing his back again. "You're okay." He wished he knew what to do to actually help him, but maybe just being there would be something. "Everything's okay. There's nothing wrong… There's nothing wrong with crying if you need to." 

"I can't…"

"That's okay."

He couldn't tell what Draco meant, what he felt he 'couldn't', but maybe it wasn't meant to be anything specific. He was starting to think there wasn't anything specific or rational behind the crying, he was just overwhelmed. Maybe? 

Maybe that really was what it was. Since Easter — actually, probably longer, he'd been pulling away since March — he'd been so cold and withdrawn, tightly controlling himself and trying to force his mind and emotions to do what they were supposed to. He'd spent most of Easter break in that damn drawing specifically because bad things happened there and he wanted to prove they didn't have power, instead of giving himself a break and just getting out of here for a little while. Maybe he'd pushed it all down for too long and it just cracked. 

He rested his head against Draco's, rubbing his back, just patiently waiting to see if it helped. "Thanks for calling me," he said, voice light and casual. "I was getting really tired of thinking about N.E.W.T.s. It's nice to have a break." 

Draco didn't respond to the joking like he hoped, but at least it didn't seem to hurt him. "You said you'd never leave…" he admitted, breath hitching. But at least it was a coherent sentence, so improvement. "I hoped it was true…"

That made him all warm, and he hugged Draco tightly. "Of course. I'll always come if you need help. Or if you call me for any other reason. And probably if you just think it really hard." 

Draco's crying did ease up; maybe the tears didn't entirely stop, but he stopped shaking. "Do you feel better, or are you just tired?" Theo wondered, running his hand over his hair. It seemed like it would be physically exhausting to keep crying for ages, not that he'd really know. Draco just shrugged without lifting his face out of his arms, but that was okay. 

A little while later, Theo was reminded that the house elf was still around when she spoke up. "Mistress is home," she warned, then disappeared. 

"Is this going to be okay?" Theo shifted and tapped his feet together to wake his legs up in case they had to move quickly.

"Yes," Draco said, still without lifting his head. 

Narcissa entered the room in another moment. Theo would be hard pressed to say he had ever really seen her show an emotion other than vague disgust, which at least she wasn't showing now, but that meant as far as he could see it was just nothing; he was sure Draco would have told him he was wrong and exactly what she was feeling, but since Theo didn't share whatever weird telepathy allowed Draco and his mother to never have to speak to each other, he was left having to guess. He guessed she was annoyed he was intruding.

He made a report promptly without getting up, staying there in front of Draco with his arm around him. "He called me for help. His heart's okay, though. He's not panicking or anything. It's just some crying." He had an instinct, based on no evidence, that keeping things calm and casual would be good for Draco, so he didn't make a big deal about it. He assumed the house elf had filled her in.

"I see." He couldn't tell much, except maybe he'd been wrong about her being annoyed. There wasn't any sharpness in her voice, anyway. "I'll relieve it," she said, drawing her wand out of her sleeve. 

"Wait." Theo stood up quickly on his knees between them and held up his hand. "Maybe that's not the best move. He's already had a Calming Draught and it, what, it all came right back as soon as it wore off, right?" Draco nodded silently into his arms. Theo ran his hand over his hair without thinking about it and looked back up at his mother. "I think maybe he's been suppressing everything for too long, during some really hard times, and now today it just cracked for some reason and had to come out." 

"It's the anniversary of the battle," she said. 

"Oh, shit, that's right." Not that he hadn't known that, obviously, just hadn't made any connection. But Draco would have been hearing about it from the Prophet, the wireless, any post he got, maybe even his mother — of course that was going to be hard, if it was hard to think about. Draco'd never told him much about the battle, which he was beginning, after Easter, to think probably meant it was a pretty bad memory. He rubbed Draco's back. "Either way, suppressing it's just going to make the same thing happen again. Maybe, just let him feel it?"

She considered, and her eyes moved from him. "Draco?"

Draco was still quiet for a bit. "Maybe he's right," he said after a moment. He took a deep breath and pushed himself up, his head and arms off his knees, and wiped his face with both hands. There were still tears leaking out afterward, but nothing like the sobbing when Theo'd first arrived. He didn't actually look at either of them, probably embarrassed. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know what happened. It was just out of control. Maybe he's right." He wiped his eyes again. 

"All right." She slipped her wand back into her sleeve and touched Draco's head lightly, then went back to a different couch. To Theo, that seemed really indifferent, but Draco must have gotten something else from it; he distantly ran his hand through his hair where she'd touched it, then wiped his eyes again and pulled his legs up into the chair, curling up in the corner. He silently dropped his hand down to hold Theo's, so Theo took that as saying he shouldn't go anywhere, and he sat down in front of Draco's chair, rubbing his hand lightly. If Draco's mother noticed, she pretended not to.