Snape has largely been considered a heroic character within the Potter fandom, with apologists going so far as to suggest that he did nothing wrong. However, anyone who reads the books with a critical eye knows that Severus Snape, one of the most well-written and interesting characters of the series, was a complete toolshed. This panel, which will be open to screaming and boos from the audience, is designed to separate impressions of Snape’s value as a literary character from his values as a person within the books.
This time I should ask you some questions. You. What did you do to my younger sister? Physical abuse at any time. Grabbing people’s hair is a given. Throwing dirt. Unfair misjudgement. Because of you a person died and you don’t even blink an eye.
Stiles would love to say that his incredibly awkward conversation with Derek in which Derek introducedhimself before making sure Stiles knew to keep his mouth shut about their
once friendship was the end of it.
He would love to say that he got the message loud and clear,
that he read and understood the signals – all of them. From Derek’s angry hello
to the threatening step forward to the hand that was somewhat angrily offered
before clenching into a fist. He would love to say that it was a clean break.
He would love to say those things but he would be lying.
Because, yes, he understood
what was happening. He wasn’t an idiot.
It was just his brain wasn’t cooperating. His brain had
spent the entirety of the interaction with Derek trying to sneak glances at the
older boy’s eyes and trying to memorize where Derek’s beard extended to his cheekbones
and how low his voice had gotten in the four years they’d been apart.
His hands had been shaking the whole time, he couldn’t get
his mouth to stop spewing words and Derek’s frown had only deepened and it was
a relief when the bell rang and Stiles could turn away and stop schooling the
crushing disappointment from his face.
And then, that afternoon, after he’d made his daring escape and
gone through the remaining two periods on autopilot, and after he’d just
thought he had put the incident out of his mind, his brain had offered him the
splendid image of Derek coming in even closer, maybe pushing him up against the
locker, one fist curling into the front of Stiles’ shirt, tilting his head down
When Derek Elrod was rushing a fraternity at the University of North
Texas (UNT) in the fall of 2013, he was having, as he puts it, “the time
of my life.” The brothers at the fraternity of his first choice, Sigma
Phi Epsilon (SigEp), were surprisingly warm and welcoming.