i took over class



I’m so

Why is it that if you get a good grade and share it, it’s bragging? To the point where I feel legitimately ASHAMED if I get a good grade.

There’s this girl, the same girl who accuse me of bragging when I said “I thought I would be invited to PTK since I have a 4.0 and 12 credits and that meets the requirements” (I was, by the way, it was just late). I feel like she constantly tries to bring me down academically now.

For example, last week, a mandatory discussion board was posted for English bc we had a snow day Thursday, and the email said it was open til Monday. I posted something to snapchat about it and she was like “bro that was due on Thursday…” and I said “no it’s open til Monday” and she was like “yeah cause only me and two other people did it” and I was like “no it said in the email…” and then checked with my teacher and told her and she didn’t respond.

Today I posted about the 99 in soc on snapchat and she was like “didn’t you already take precalc in high school?” and I was like “no this is sociology” but like… I just feel like she’s trying to find some way to take me down a notch or something.

But the thing is, I can get good grades whether I’ve taken the class before or not? I hadn’t taken psych before and I ended up with an over 100% average. So saying “you took the class before” doesn’t mean the 99 is less valid.

Moreover, it’s not like I brag about my grades and don’t share my bad ones. I share all my grades, even the bad ones! It just happens that I work my ass off and I’m blessed to be naturally hardworking and organized and so I usually get good grades!

It’s gotten to the point where I feel GUILTY when I get a good grade because I feel like people are going to accuse me of bragging and try to bring me down. I feel like I should get a C because then when I share it people won’t accuse me of conceit.

That guy who dumped me during finals week said I was “academically intimidating” and that my confidence came off as me being conceited. He said he thought I thought he was below my standards academically (I legit never even thought about that). Do you know how AWFUL it made me feel to know I made someone FEEL that way?! Yes, it’s more his problem, but it happened.

I don’t know. I really don’t. I post about my grades on Snapchat and people call me out for “bragging” and think I’m conceited but like do you know how much fucking shit I have dealt with to get those grades?!?! Ugh. Anyway I’ll end this rant but I’m just so upset about this right now it’s unreal

1075. Luna Lovegood hated Care of Magical Creatures, solely because Hagrid told her that Crumple Horned Snorkaks- any many of the other creatures she mentioned- weren't real and she refused to believe him.

Request: Hi I LOVE YOUR WORK! Can I make a request? Anyway can I have a Draco Malfoy imagine were you go to meet him in the forbidden forest but he’s not there but Crabb and Goyle are and they attack the reader? If you do t want to write this it’s cool! :) :)

Character: Draco Malfoy

Word count: 665

Warning: Physical abuse, verbal abuse.

Sorry, it took me this long to write this, enjoy it.

*Gif’s not mine, credit to whoever made it*

Originally posted by imagine-everything41

“Shhhh, Mr. Malfoy. Leave,  you need to let her rest.”

“No! I’m staying with her until she wakes up, and then I still will be with her to take care of her.”

Whispers, echoing inside my head, getting louder and louder until they were unbearable screams filling me completely. My eyes snap open unable to take the noise anymore, I was meet with silence but it was replaced with the increasing race of my heartbeats and the eyes of Madam Pomfrey and Draco. I tried to stand from the bed, realizing I was in the hospital wing. I couldn’t move, a rush of pain run through my body letting an animalistic grunt of hurt escape from my mouth.

“Easy, let me help-”

“You are not helping her Mr. Malfoy, that is my job.” Madam Pomfrey hurried to help me sitting down, preventing Draco you even put a hand on me.

“Thank you.” I mouth her grabbing Draco’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze. He sadly smiled at me and sat down.

“What happened?” he asked worried giving a delicate kiss to my hand.

I was supposed to meet Draco at Forbidden Forest at 6:00 p.m but I’m running late because I woke up late from a nap I took after classes were over. I walked faster as I approached the border of the Forest. I deepen myself in it planning my apologies to Draco for being; late when something hit me from the back and my body fell to the ground landing on my face. I tried to prevent from hitting my face but I was unable to move. 

My body was turned harshly around and I see Crabbe and Goyle’s standing in front of me. I was doing my best to scream and run from them but I didn’t move an inch.

“Look who we have here, the (Y/H) mudblood.” spat Crabbe giving me a filthy look and kicking me hard in the ribs.

Pain extended all over my body. He walked around me, trying to intimidate me, purposely stepping on my hand probably breaking a finger or two. Goyle did absolutely nothing but stare almost as if he was bored. Crabbe kicked me a couple more times on the outer part of my thighs and near my chest. I felt how my body was lifted from the ground and I feared for my life not knowing what he was going to do.

“Stop!” we heard a female voice scream from behind, my body was left to fall to the ground carelessly hitting my back with a fallen branch. I was relieved but my eyes showed authentic fear when Pansy Parkinson.

“I can’t believe you started without me and being the only ones having fun,”

she said as a psychotic smile grew on her face.

“ Draco’s too good for you, you worthless mudblood,” she spits on my face. Shen then grabbed me by my shirt lifting me from the ground, before she did anything she got closer to the lever of my ear and whispered.

“Take this as a warning, stay away from my Dracky or else…” My head hit something extremely hard as I sense something warm and wet on the spot where the back of my head was smashed. I heard their steps getting less and less audible, letting me know they were leaving.  My body stopped being stiff and I was able to move again, felt dizzy and my eyes felt heavy as I blacked out but I was being carried away from that horrifying scene before I lost my conscience completely.

Draco’s teary eyes became hard and soulless, his breath sped up and his knuckles became white as he gripped the sheet of my bed. He stood up looking at nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts, he came closer to me and gently kissed me on the forehead.

“Don’t worry my dear, I’ll deal with this.” he said slowly and walked his way out of the hospital wing.

anonymous asked:

what are the most common mistakes writers make? and how do you fix them?

Thanks for your question, nonny!  This is a very wide topic, so I wasn’t sure how to answer it – but I’ve come to a conclusion.

I think the most common writing mistake is to self-edit, and it’s detrimental to writing time as a whole.  Self-editing is basically editing your story while you’re writing it; going back and correcting mistakes and rewriting sentences while you’re still putting paragraphs on paper.  The worst part about this problem is that it feels like you’re doing the right thing – that by “fixing yourself” and keeping a scrutinizing eye on the page, you’re becoming a better writer.  But you’re not helping yourself.

Think of it this way, because this is how I learned it: I grew up in dance.  I took over a decade of ballet, jazz, and tap classes, and I moved up in the classes at a steady pace.  I was awkward as hell, but I was a fast learner.  I was meticulous and made sure to pay attention, learn all the steps, and master the timing.  I was, in retrospect, one of the most accurate dancers at my level.

But I didn’t get lead roles.  Ever.  No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get any of the starring roles in our productions.  And every time I asked for critiques from my mentors, I got the same message, over and over.

You’re too in your head.  You’re too focused on being perfect to engage with the audience.”

And they were absolutely right.  Going back and watching tapes of myself, I never smiled – even when I was having a good time.  I never showed my own personality; I never messed around between run-throughs. I made fewer mistakes, but I missed out on the personality and fun and interactive aspect of art and performance!

So instead of focusing on getting things right, approach it like this: prepare beforehand – study and revise afterhand.  But let writing be writing.  Let yourself get lost in the scene.  Let yourself make mistakes.  Try turning the font white or closing your eyes; try Write or Die to turn up the heat.  Whatever you do, just do it and don’t think until it’s over.  That is my advice.

Thanks again for your question!  Happy writing :)

If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask me!

Marty Scurll | “One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.”

Title: “One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.”

Pairing: Professor!Marty / Reader

Summary: If someone ever asked me why I took this class I’d tell them the truth, I signed up because I loved Shakespeare’s work, but stayed for the way Professor Scurll’s ass looked in trousers.

Words: 1,894

Warnings: Slightly NSFW, I’m talking very slight. 

A/N: Thanks to the Topman advert that Marty is in for the new muscle fit suits, I got this idea! Also, do you get the title!? I was v proud of it tbh. It’s from Hamlet and it has the word “villain” in it! Fitting, no? (but he doesn’t hold that moniker in this fic, yet). Anyways! Hope you all enjoy Professor!Marty in all his beautiful glory.

Keep reading

nct as texts in my class chat
  • Taeil: #whyareyouallsogay
  • Hansol: that was my plan and if you steal it i will break a coconut with your head
  • Johnny: *at 1am* what was the homework and did anyone do it and can you send it to me. *1:50am* please?
  • Taeyong: you all should be studying instead of writing here
  • Yuta: *only ever writes happy birthday and happy new year*
  • Kun: oops sorry, wrong chat
  • Doyoung: wow! great! i would've never! ever! thought of that!! you! deserve! a medal!!!!
  • Ten: *only ever sends dog pics captioned 'look how cute, just like me'*
  • Jaehyun: i just met my old teacher, should i fuck him?
  • WinWin: why did i even get up
  • Mark: i'll explain the homework to you but you gotta do it yourself i'm not THAT nice
  • Renjun: *the one who always sends the material*
  • Jeno: *uses fish and noodle as insults*
  • Haechan: Guys…I have to tell you something…IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW YOU BETTER NOT FORGET IT
  • Jaemin: Shirts do weird things sometimes, you never know what they’re up to in your closet
  • Chenle: i'll bring watermelon. or some other fruit. fruits are great.
  • Jisung: *8pm* good night, i'm going to sleep
Potions Master

I said I would write for @happy-snape-week

Alas, I’ve been a little busy, so please accept this revamped, rewritten and slightly polished fic, as opposed to anything completely fresh.

This originally stemmed from an ask where someone wanted to see Snape’s talent for Potions being acknowledged, and him gaining his Potions Mastery on merit.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Ah, Severus,” Slughorn beamed at the student before him, as the rest of the NEWT class filed out of the dungeon.  “This way, my boy.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed as he followed Slughorn from the seventh year Potions classroom and into his sumptuous office.  Unlike Lucius, and Regulus, and countless other Slytherins, he’d never been invited into Slughorn’s office.  He’d certainly never had an invite into the Slug Club.  Not that this was a Slug Club invitation.  Not at quarter past four on a Tuesday.

Snape loitered awkwardly in the doorway, clutching his schoolbag against his slight frame. Slughorn turned from the ornate cabinet where he was pouring himself a drink, and waved Snape in.  “Do sit down, do sit down!”  

Snape shuffled forward, and Slughorn flicked his wand, causing the door to slam shut.  “A seat, Severus!” Slughorn repeated, as he sank heavily into his own chair.  

Snape approached the chair furthest from his housemaster, and slowly lowered his bag, perching himself on the very edge of the seat.  Slughorn frowned at the boy’s actions, and gave a small cough in displeasure, but did not comment.  He merely made a great show of summoning a side table and placing it before Snape, balancing his drink on it, and then pulling his own chair closer to the wary student.

“Now, my dear boy,” he started, “you are aware that you are supposed to attend a follow up session regarding your career choices?”

Snape didn’t answer.

“Accio,” Slughorn muttered, and a number of parchment pages flew through the air from his desk.  He quickly rifled through them.  “Where is it, where is it?  J…M…Parkinson, no, no, Rosier, no, aha!  Snape!”  He pulled one from the stack and held it triumphantly aloft, whilst banishing the rest to his desk. “Now, from your initial session before your OWLs…”

Slughorn fell silent as he stared in confusion at the blank parchment.  He turned it over, and back, and then over again.  Finally, he raised his head and looked at the sulky boy seated across from him.  “Ah, now, Severus.  This is a little embarrassing, but I don’t suppose I gave you the copy from your last session, did I?”

“I’ve never had a careers advice session, sir.”

“You’ve never ha-” Slughorn blustered, grabbing his handkerchief and running it dramatically over his forehead.  “You simply must have!  I see all the Slytherins!”

“Not me.  Sir.”  

Slughorn peered helplessly at the blank parchment before him.  “I’ve never…not once…I…”  He looked again at the boy before him, who was shifting awkwardly in his seat.  

“Can I go now, sir?”

“Why on earth didn’t you say something, boy?”

Snape sat silently, glaring at the ceiling, annoyed that he hadn’t been allowed to retreat to his common room.  He willed his housemaster to lose interest and cease his line of questioning.  When he eventually glanced back down and made eye contact, Slughorn was still peering intently at him.  Snape sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was low.  “I asked around.  The others said…”

“The others said what?”

He shrugged, as if it was of no importance, but his sallow cheeks filled with colour.  “They said that you didn’t offer career advice to half bloods.”

Slughorn thumped his fist against the small table between them.  “I OFFER CAREER ADVICE TO ALL!”

Snape tensed, and immediately gripped his wand.  Slughorn winced at the boy’s swift reaction.  

“No, no,” Slughorn said, quietly, placating him.  “I wasn’t angry with you.  Put your wand away, Severus.”  He stood, exhaled deeply, and strode over to the drinks cabinet.  He poured a generous measure of firewhisky into two fancy glasses. “Here,” he said, pressing one into Snape’s hand, who looked at it, eyes wide.


“You’re of age, aren’t you, boy?”


“Then drink.”  

Snape lifted the glass, almost recoiling as the fumes from the strong smelling liquid reached his nose. He looked at Slughorn, who had his own glass raised.

“Cheers,” said his teacher, and brought his lips to the rim of the glass.  

Snape did the same, and then his face twisted in anguish as the strong liquor burned his throat.  To his horror, he could feel a tear forming at the edge of his right eye.  He rubbed his sleeve against it, and when his vision cleared, he saw Slughorn smiling oddly at him.  

It was then that Snape noticed Slughorn’s glass was still full.  

“Ah, you youngsters. Always able to hold your liquor,” he laughed, and poured another generous measure into Snape’s now empty glass. “Still, I would take that one much more slowly, else this meeting will be over before it’s started.”  

Snape could feel his flush of embarrassment disappearing as he realised that Slughorn thought he’d swallowed his drink as a statement, and not simply through ignorance.  He nodded, and this time, took a small sip of the harsh liquid, and then placed the glass down on the table between them.

“Now,” Slughorn said, pulling out a quill with a flourish, and starting to write on the previously blank parchment.  “Tell me about your favourite subject.”

“Defence, sir.”

“And what do you like about Defence?”

“Creating spells.”

“Very good.  Am I then also to understand that you have an appreciation for Charms?”

Snape shrugged.  “It’s all right.”

Slughorn raised an eyebrow. “All right?  How can you expect to create your own spells if your charm work isn’t exact?”

“Professor Flitwick doesn’t allow us to experiment,” Snape said, simply.  “Three flicks this way, four flicks that way,” he grumbled.  “What if four flicks this way, and three flicks that way gave better results?”

“I believe that’s why Professor Flitwick is the teacher, Severus,” Slughorn said, trying to keep a hint of amusement from his voice, “and you are his student.”

Snape pursed his lips. “Anyway, Defence is better than Charms. I like duelling.  And learning how to control dark creatures.”

Slughorn peered at him over his paper.  “Controlling dark creatures?  I suppose you took Kettleburn’s class then?”  

“No, sir.”

“No?  May I ask why?”  

“It’s a bit too dangerous, sir.”

Slughorn snorted and took another sip of his drink.  “Indeed. Indeed.  And what else?”

“Herbology could be worse.”

“A glowing recommendation indeed,” Slughorn smiled.  “I will be sure to pass your critique to Pomona.”

Despite himself, Snape smiled back.  “I mean, it’s not bad or anything.  It’s not Divination, or Arithmancy-”

“Divination I can understand,” Slughorn said, cautiously, “But I am surprised to hear that you don’t enjoy Arithmancy.”

“I don’t believe in fortune telling.”

Slughorn gave a tight smile. “I am certain your teachers would disagree with the nature of their subjects.  Arithmancy, in particular, is practically a science-”

Snape snorted. “Ancient Runes is a better way to spend your time.  You can learn a lot from ancient magic.”

“So, Defence and Ancient Runes are your favourite subjects?  With,” Slughorn gave a quick half smile, “Charms being regarded as ‘all right’ and Herbology ‘could be worse’?”

“I didn’t mean it like that about Herbology.  I still wouldn’t want to do it as a career, but I can see it’s useful.”

“Useful for…?”

“Potions, sir. Obviously.”

“Ah, Potions.  I was hoping you would say that.  You had me worried there for a moment.”


Slughorn smiled kindly. “You are a fan of my subject, are you not, Severus?”

“Yes, sir.  It’s my favourite.”

“Not Defence?”

Snape paused, considering. “Both,” he said, finally.  “I like them both the same.”

“Well, you have a certain amount of talent when it comes to Potions.  When you’re not blowing up your cauldron, that is.”

“Sorry, sir.”  

Slughorn stopped writing. “In fact, it amazes me that a boy who has such a grasp of the theory – and your essays, Severus, are nothing short of excellent-” Snape flushed at Slughorn’s words, not used to receiving such high praise.  Slughorn stroked his chin thoughtfully.  “-it astounds me that you cannot grasp the practical.”

“It’s not that I can’t brew,” Snape muttered, a note of petulance in his voice.  

“The simple potions, certainly,” Slughorn conceded.  “I recall that you were rather competent up until your OWL year.  You used to sit next to Lily Evans, didn’t you?” he said, a small smile creeping across his face.  “Perhaps we should re-arrange the seating so-”

“No!  Don’t!” Snape’s vehement response caused Slughorn to raise an eyebrow.

“Very well.  However, I shall say it plainly:  your NEWT examiners will not take kindly to you exploding the contents of your pewter across the classroom.”  Slughorn tried not to roll his eyes as he watched the angry young man grab his bag and rummage through it.  

“Severus,” Slughorn continued loudly, “unfortunately, as impressive as your understanding of the theoretical is, there isn’t much call for wizards who cannot practice what they preach.  Even, I fear, the Ministry would not be intereste…”  Slughorn trailed off as an intricately annotated textbook was thrust before him, Snape’s thin hand trembling slightly as he held it.

“What’s this?” Slughorn said, taking the proffered book.  He turned the book at an angle, staring at the tiny cramped writing that filled the page. “Thirteen Sopophorous beans?  Crushing them instead of cutting?”  He looked back at Snape, his brow furrowed.  “Clockwise as well as anti-clockwise?”  

“It works.  Sir.”  

Slughorn flicked through the rest of the book, noting the cramped but detailed instructions littering each and every page.  He stood, abruptly, and clicked his fingers, motioning for Snape to follow him back into the classroom.



“I want you to brew,” Slughorn said, simply.  “I am going to brew, and you are going to brew.  Get the ingredients from the cupboard.”  He stared at the unmoving boy.  “Well? Come on!  Twelve beans for me, thirteen beans for you.”

Snape nodded.  He almost dropped one of the jars in the storeroom, and he hastily wiped his slightly sweaty palms on his robes before taking a deep breath and continuing.  He laid the ingredients out on the desk, whilst Slughorn gathered the equipment.  Together, under Slughorn’s watchful eye, the young boy brewed using his amendments.

An hour later, Slughorn stared in shock at the perfect potion produced by his student.  “In under an hour,” he noted, glancing at his watch.  “Severus, this is…something special.”


“And the rest of your book? You’ve done this with other potions?”

Snape shrugged non-committedly.  “Some are better than others.  I can only experiment in class.”

Slughorn tapped his finger against his lips.  “Interesting. You try out the most dangerous things under my guidance?  And that’s why you often blow up your cauldron?”

Snape looked down at his shoes, his voice barely more than a whisper.  “Notyourguidancesir.”  

“Sorry?”  Slughorn stared intently at Snape, but the boy didn’t speak again.  “Please don’t mumble, Severus.  Enunciate!”

“It’s not your guidance, sir.”  He glanced up, and saw Slughorn frowning.  He quickly glanced down.  “It’s the most expensive things, sir,” he muttered, his voice dropping again.  

Slughorn stared at his student.  “Are you telling me that you don’t experiment because you cannot afford the ingredients?”

Snape’s cheeks flushed. “I am not like the other Slytherins. Sir.”

“I am aware of your background,” Slughorn said, awkwardly.  “You are telling me that you could make these refinements to other potions, but you cannot experiment because you do not have access to the ingredients?”


“Answer me!  Is that right, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”  

“Every Monday and every Wednesday,” Slughorn said, a note of finality in his tone, “you will come to this office and practice your potions.”

“But sir-”

“No arguments, Severus,” Slughorn said, waving him out of the classroom.  “I will see you here on Wednesday.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful, sir – but what about Quidditch, sir?”  Snape blurted out, desperately.

“Quidditch, Severus?” Slughorn struggled to prevent a hearty laugh escaping.  “I didn’t think you were so inclined.”

“I don’t mind it,” he said, defensively.  “I’m not that keen on flying on a broom, but…”


“We’re short, sir.” Snape grimaced.  “We’re down four players since Ave, Mulc, Reggie and Ev got in that brawl last week, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Hooch suspended them for the rest of the year.  You know what Ev’s like when it comes to Quidditch.  He’s said that the rest of us have to turn up to practice, no excus-”

“Enough,” Slughorn said, raising his hand.  “I don’t need to know about the Quidditch tactics of Evan Rosier.  Very well.  You shall attend my classroom on Mondays and Fridays, leaving your Wednesdays free for Quidditch practice.”

Snape hoisted his bag over his shoulder, still looking anxious.  “What about the others, sir?  What should I tell them?  They’ll think you’re giving me preferential treatment if I just turn up here.”

Slughorn smiled.  “I would suggest blowing your cauldron up during the next lesson.  I can easily hand you a detention for a term or two.”


“Oh, and Severus?”


“Make it good, won’t you?”

For once, it wasn’t his own cauldron that erupted.  At the start of the lesson, Snape purposely flung a flobberworm across the room, causing Potter’s cauldron to impressively spew its contents three feet into the air, and across four tables.  Moments later, Snape deliberately threw a bezoar towards Potter’s neighbour, catching Black’s hand as he was in the midst of carefully dribbling precious Dragon’s blood into his mixture.

The fallout was unforgettable.  Legendary, even.  Students yelled and screamed, cauldrons were spilled, and ingredients were flung aside. Without exception, each and every student pointed at Snape when Slughorn’s shouting reached crescendo, and for Snape’s part, he laughed loudly – impudently – as Slughorn issued him with detention.  His mirth only abated when Slughorn lost his temper, and finally shouted that due to his ongoing impertinence, Snape had lost two nights a week for the rest of his Hogwart’s career.

Vengeance was sweet. Snape was still smirking to himself as he sauntered out of the classroom, pleased that he’d managed to make use of Slughorn’s instruction and upset both Potter and Black at the same time. He pulled up short when he saw Lily waiting outside the classroom with Potter, her expression furious.  Instantly, Snape’s smile dropped, and he self-consciously pulled his shoulder bag tight to his body.

“You’ve really changed.”

“Says you,” Snape retorted, hotly.  

“Look at his face!” Lily pointed to the marks on James’ cheek where the potion had splattered against him.  “You could’ve disfigured him.”

“Disfigured him?!  It was only a Mandrake and a few Flobberworms,” he snapped.  “It’ll wear off by tomorrow.”  He glared at the pair, and muttered under his breath, “I’d have used Bubotuber pus if I wanted to disfigure him.”

“You’re lucky Slughorn gave you such a harsh punishment, Snivellus, else I’d be reporting this to Dumbledore,” hissed James.

“Go ahead,” Snape sneered. “I’m sure he’ll be shocked that a Slytherin wannabe Death Eater would do such a thing to our beloved Head Boy.”

“Ignore him, James!” Lily pulled on her boyfriend’s arm before he could retort.  Snape wasn’t certain whether she had already grown tired of their argument – tired of him, even - or whether the mention of James’ Head Boy status reminded her that they both had far more to lose than Snape did if their disagreement turned physical.

He felt as if all of the colour had drained from the world when she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye with burning hatred.  “I was so wrong about you.  There’s just no reasoning with you anymore.”  She barged past him, her elbow purposely digging into his ribs as she dragged her boyfriend behind her.

James allowed himself to be pulled along, but ran his wand over his throat, and pointed at Snape whilst mouthing, “You’re dead.”

Snape sank back against the cold stone wall, watching silently as the pair fled up the dungeon stairs, hand-in-hand.  His efforts had almost been worth it, but the distaste in Lily’s eyes had rather ruined his rare moment of triumph.

Snape’s heart skipped when he walked into the dungeon.  He’d nervously paced outside for several minutes before pushing the door; he knew Slughorn was well respected, and seemed honourable enough – but then, Snape had witnessed too much disappointment to consider any promises a sure thing. He’d half expected the door to swing open and to be confronted with the cauldron scrubbing detention that his classmates believed him to be attending.

Instead, to his pleasure, he saw a long line of ingredients covering the bench, and he almost tripped over his shoelaces in his haste to start work.

True to his word, Slughorn provided all of the ingredients Snape required - even those which he hardly dared touch, knowing from his days in Hogsmeade with his nose pressed up against the glass of Slug and Jiggers that they’d cost someone – Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Slughorn himself, even – a small fortune.  He wasn’t about to blow his opportunity be being greedy or irresponsible.

The first few weeks were fantastic, and Snape made subtle refinements to several potions, and overhauled half a dozen more – but then, Slughorn slipped.  Black earned himself a week’s worth of detentions after tripping Snape in class, causing his carefully brewed potion to splash over the floor, melting one of the flagstones in the process.  Without thinking the action through, Slughorn carelessly issued Black with a week’s worth of detentions – which meant that Snape had to put up the pretence of a real detention.  

Scrubbing out cauldrons would’ve been an unpleasant enough job, but it was made many times worse having to share a bench with a braying, mocking Black – let alone losing his evening of experimental brewing.  Thankfully, Slughorn realised his mistake and let Black off on Thursday night with a stern warning, and a lament about how sincerely sad he was that he hadn’t had Sirius in Slytherin like the rest of his family.

Black had been his usual subtle self, crowing loudly with Potter about how he’d evaded detention, whilst Snape was having to endure months for his earlier transgression – but Snape was so relieved to hear that he’d got his Friday experimentation day back, he couldn’t bring himself to care.  

“Excuse me, Professor,” the first year said, breathing heavily at the doorway of the Transfiguration class.  “Professor Slughorn says that Severus Snape must report to his office immediately.”

“This is most irregular,” Professor McGonagall said, drawing herself up to her full height.  “What’s this about, Severus?”

“I don’t know, Professor,” Snape replied, honestly.  He looked at the Hufflepuff in the doorway.

“I don’t know either, Professor,” said the young Hufflepuff, “but Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore are together and waiting.”

“Well,” said Professor McGonagall, slowly, “if Professor Dumbledore has requested such a thing, then we must acquiesce.  Severus, collect your things, and you can return here tonight after dinner to continue your classwork.”

“I’ve got Quidditch pract-”

“Tonight,” McGonagall said, raising her voice, “or you do not have permission to leave now.”

“Yes, Professor. Tonight, Professor.”

“Good, now go.”  

Severus scooped up his papers, and – arms full - followed the Hufflepuff down the corridor. “What’s this about then?”

“Dunno,” replied the Hufflepuff.  “But Slughorn looked very excited.  He gave me a whole box of crystallised pineapple for coming to get you.”

Taking a deep breath, Snape knocked on the door to the Potions classroom and was surprised when Professor Dumbledore swept the door open.  “Ah, Severus.  Do come in.”

He stepped into the room, past Dumbledore and his eyes widened when he saw the man standing at the back of the room.  Slughorn appeared to be bursting with pride.

“This is the boy?”

“Severus Snape,” Slughorn said, urging Snape forwards to shake the hands of the guest.  

“Snape?”  The man raised his eyebrows as he pulled out of the handshake.  “Can’t say I’ve heard that before.”

Snape glowered. Malfoy was right; this was what his life was going to be like – forever cursed by a Muggle moniker.  

“Ah, Libatius, what’s in a name?” said Professor Dumbledore.  “I do believe Horace invited you here for a demonstration?”


Slughorn placed a hammy hand on Snape’s bony shoulder.  “This boy can do things with a cauldron that will make your head spin.”

“I doubt that very much,” said Borage, scowling.  “Horace, my dear fellow, you have been inviting me here for years.  Each year you promise so much, yet your students deliver so little.  I have told you my terms before, and yet you still insist on this charade.”  

“This time,” Slughorn pronounced, proudly, “you’ll see.”


“Now, Severus,” Dumbledore said, firmly, “I believe you have an appointment with Professor McGonagall?”

Snape glanced down at the watch Lucius Malfoy had gifted him for his seventeenth birthday.  “Yes, sir.”  How had he missed dinner?  He’d been working for hours on end.  He collected his bag and he quietly approached Slughorn and Borage, who were peering over several of his cauldrons.  “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said, holding his hand out.  Borage nodded, and Snape had the feeling that he’d been utterly dismissed.

“Off you go, Severus,” Slughorn said kindly, and with a sinking stomach, Snape departed.


Snape turned at the sound of Dumbledore’s voice.  The Headmaster passed him a note.  “Pass this to Professor McGonagall, please, Severus.”


Professor McGonagall scanned the note, her expression not betraying her feelings.  “Very well,” she said, calling a house elf and passing the note to it. A moment later, the house elf returned with a spread of food from that night’s feast.

“It appears, Mr Snape, that you missed dinner.  I thought I did not see you in the Great Hall tonight.  I have been informed that you are to eat whilst you study, although please do not smear any sauces on your paper. I refuse to mark parchment that is covered in food.”  

He sprawled across the desk, his nose close to the parchment as he filled the page full of his tiny, cramped writing.  McGonagall rolled her eyes; no matter what scathing comments she wrote on his essays, he always managed to turn in more than was necessary.  There was simply no dissuading the boy from his research.

After an hour, she stood, and dismissed the Slytherin.  “I’m sorry about Quidditch,” she huffed, “but your classwork is more important.  There are only a handful of games left in the season, of course.”  

Snape nodded, but as he stood to leave, the door burst open.  “Well done, my boy!” Slughorn boomed, marching in to the room.  


“Minerva!” Slughorn returned her greeting bombastically, mistaking McGonagall’s annoyance for enthusiasm.  “Now Severus, down to the dungeons and gather your things.  Professor Dumbledore is making the necessary arrangements with your parents as we speak!”


“Horace, what on earth is this about?”

“Libatius Borage wants you as an apprentice, Severus.”

Snape’s knees went weak, and he gripped the desk before him.

“The pay is a little ungenerous, but then, that’s Libatius for you,” Slughorn admitted.  “What you’ll pick up in experience, knowledge and connections – well, my boy, that’s priceless.  Priceless!”  

“He’s not sat his NEWTs,” McGonagall said disapprovingly.  “You’ll affect the boy’s career if he leaves without them.”

“Oh, Libatius has agreed to special dispensation,” Slughorn said, waving his hand.  “Details, details.  With an apprenticeship under Borage, young master Snape here won’t want for anything else.”

“I’ll be a Potions Master, sir?”

“Indeed, Severus. You’ll be a Potions Master.”  

Duolingo has a Japanese course which i just discovered so I’ve temporarily jumped ship from Hebrew but I’m still impatiently waiting for them to have Korean


I took a design class last semester, and our spring break project was to create a zine about anything we wanted. So I decided to make one about what I considered to be the best cartoons to watch. I used an app to take the pics, so the colors look a little different than what’s actually on it. It was so much fun, and I LOVE how these pages turned out, especially for Equestria Girls and RC9GN. It was really tough to choose, when there’s only 6 pages, so I had to boil it down to shows that have really taken a special place in my heart. I’m really sad Steven Universe didn’t make it, if I had a bigger sheet of paper, it definitely would have. If I had to redesign one of these, it’d definitely be Star vs. I was using a different pen for the outlining on top, and it really didn’t work out, so the picture is kinda ‘meeeeh, okay’ for me. Ludo and Toffee were last minute additions, so they came out fine.

Gravity Falls was also one I feel I didn’t put as much effort into, but still managed to look decent. And OtGW…I really should’ve taken a break before attempting that. It really shows how mentally exhausted I was by that point. Actually, I’d remake this page over Star. And then we have EQG and RC9GN….mwua I love them so much! The colors and designs just came together so well; I wanted to put the things I loved the most into these panels, so of course I had to have the villains in them. Dagi and Gloriosa came out SOOO GOOD, and JULIAN, BBY, I’M GLAD YOU LOOK HOW I WANTED. All in all this was a fun project. Let me know what you guys think!



Band Of Brothers 15th Anniversary

Episode 3. CARENTAN
[16 Sep. 2001]

Do you guys remember this scene? Where Naruto tells Hinata to “shut up and come with him” and she faints? Like most people, when I first saw this I was wondering why Hinata would faint over something so simple. But this summer, I just found something out that makes this scene even funnier.

Over the summer, I took a Japanese culture class where we listen to Japanese folk songs and learn about gender and societal roles in Japanese society through them. And in one of the songs, the guy singing it tells the girl he wants to marry “Damatte ore ni tsuite koi” (lit. Shut up and come attatched to me, but can also be translated as “shut up and follow me”). And at this, our professor told us that this is stereotypically how “ore” type guys would propose to girls they want to marry (of course most of the time, it doesn’t mean proposing marriage, but it carries that connotation to an extent). It’s very crude and impolite, so you typically would not hear it in Japan, but that’s the stereotype of guys like that.

So after class, I was thinking this over and remembered: “Didn’t Naruto say something like that to Hinata in a filler moment?”

So I go back and watch the episode again, and sure enough, Naruto says to Hinata: “Damatte ore ni tsuite koi ttebayo!” That’s why Hinata fainted! She probably thought Naruto was proposing marriage to her and she freaked out. And of course, Naruto being Naruto didn’t understand the connotation of what he said. He clearly just wanted Hinata to follow him somewhere, but Hinata probably took it as “this dude comes out of nowhere after 3 years and proposes marriage to me I can’t deal”, and faints leaving Naruto confused. 

I’m sorry for freaking out like this over filler, but this little tidbit I learned makes this scene make a lot more sense (and funnier).

Since I know a lot of my followers are going into high school this year, I decided to do a cliche Freshman Year Tips post. Maybe these are only relevant to me/my school, but I thought I’d post anyhow :)

  • When they say freshman year determines the ground for your GPA for the next four years, they’re mostly not lying, as surprising as it may seem. Do the best you can freshman year. I promise you, it’ll pay off, even if it’s stressful.
  • If you’re not sure about a class, like you’re not 100% about taking AP chemistry or something, especially in later years, don’t. I took a math class that was just a little over my experience level and it messed up my GPA. It’s honestly best to play it safe. If you’re not all that worried about grades or you have some room to play around, go ahead, take that advanced/enriched/honors class. But if you don’t, then don’t.
  • On the first day back, don’t bring anything but your bag, pens/pencils, and a notebook or folder or maybe a small binder. You don’t need everything on the first day. Your teachers will give you your supply requirements usually within the first week. If you need to take advantage of school sales, then grab what you know you will absolutely need. Otherwise, wait until all of your teachers have given you requirements. It’s much better to take one trip to the store than seven.
  • You will need, for at least one class or just for emergencies: red, blue, black pens; pencils (both #2 and mechanical/whatever you use); a minimum of one notebook; *most* teachers want a separate binder for each class, but they don’t have to be monstrous, so maybe 1-1.5″ binders; I’m serious, you need so many pencils; some kind of pencil container like a pouch or box or something; a small box of bandaids; travel size deodorant; an agenda/planner if your school doesn’t provide one; menstrual products if you menstruate (I’m extremely serious about that, keep them even when you’re off–you never know who will need it); highlighters for at least your English or other language class
  • I promise you, you don’t need that mirror or shelf or other decoration for your locker. You will barely be at your locker unless you’re lucky enough to have classes so close to each other or lots of time in between periods. I go to my locker 3 times a day. 
  • Don’t be embarrassed to sit alone at lunch. Everyone does sometimes. There’s no shame in it, and I promise you, no one’s judging you. I’d bet no one will even notice.
  • But also don’t be afraid to make friends. High school provides so many new people and so many new opportunities to join a new friend group. You may think you’ll stick with the same people all four years, but that’s not always the case. So have backups just in case, however rude that may sound.
  • Don’t be afraid to see the intervention/crisis counselor. They are there for a reason. If something is interfering with your ability to be at school or do your work, go talk to them. They can help you.
  • If you’re taking a class that isn’t a core or required class (such as an elective) and you’re failing, drop it. You don’t need it. You don’t need the stress or the lowered GPA. Study halls can be beneficial.
  • If there are volunteer opportunities, don’t pass up on those. If you want to be in National Honors Society, you need at least 25 hours to even apply, and another 25 after you’ve been accepted. Even if NHS isn’t your goal, they look awesome on college applications.
  • If there’s a chance to add something to your student resume, do it. Even if it seems small, it could be the difference between going to your dream school and getting your second or last pick. 
  • Apply for scholarships early on. Write essays. Start as soon as you can.
  • Your teachers can be brutal. Teachers can also be wonderful. They are all there to help you. If you feel as though you deserved a different grade on something, talk to them. Every teacher is different, but most will at least listen to you.
  • Do not get your parents to do things for you, such as write notes to get you out of classwork or calling/emailing them when your grades are slipping. You’re in high school. You need to start taking responsibility for your actions, and having your parents confront your teachers for your mistakes is the opposite of that.
  • Take a few days off per semester or even quarter if you’re not feeling mentally well enough to go. Your mental health is just as important, if not more so, than your physical health. If you have to fake the flu for that, fine. Just make sure you’re okay.
  • If you miss a few days, I promise you, it’s okay. You can make up the work. Most teachers will be lenient about it because they understand you have multiple classes and so much work. Reschedule your missed tests. Please. 
  • Never take a 0 for something. Even if your homework is half done, turn it in. Half credit is better than none.
  • Extra credit opportunity? Take it. Even if you have a 100% in the class, take it. You never know when you may need it to fall back on.
  • Take some fun classes, but not until later on. Get your required classes out of the way.
  • Freshman year is the easiest. Teachers will baby you, even if middle school says they won’t. They will. Prepare for sophomore year. It’s much tougher. But you can do it.
  • Don’t stop in the middle of the hall in between periods. If you decide to have an extensive conversation with Nancy, grab her and go to the side of the hall or into a locker bank or something. Don’t stop up traffic. You will get yelled at by an upperclassman.
  • You are the bottom of the food chain. Don’t try to swim up. You cannot. Being labeled as a freshman already did it for you. The older kids will pick on you because you’re the youngest, but don’t worry, you’ll be in their shoes one day. 
  • Don’t try any tricks. Honestly. One kid did the chapstick on the scantron sheet thing, and broke a $700 machine that he had to pay for. Study. Do your best. Don’t rely on “life hacks” to get you through it. They’re not foolproof.
  • Remember, everyone is trying to make it, just like you. Everyone is fighting their own battles. Everyone is struggling in some way. Everyone is tired and stressed, no matter how well-put they seem. Be kind. High school is when you become more than just a student; you’re a person. You will be remembered for your behavior. Make sure it’s one you’d want to be remembered for in thirty years at your reunion.