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hestia jones﹕ ravenclaw, fifth year, choi yerim. intro.
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﹟𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚁𝙾𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚂﹕ private, dependent, blog for winkingwitch, feat. muses as loved by cc ( she + her ).
hestia jones﹕ ravenclaw, fifth year, choi yerim. intro.

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﹟hestia jones﹕ ꒰ task one﹗ ꒱
catherynne m. valente, from deathless ╱ anne carson, excerpt of to compostela ╱ titian, diana and actaeon ╱ anne carson, plainwater: essays and poetry ╱ ada limón, bright dead things; “home fires” ╱ henry fuseli, the nightmare ╱ louise glück, from vita nova; “aubade” ╱ lucille clifton, from the book of light; “climbing” ╱ luke fildes, the doctor
𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐰𝐰 ﹕
Where: Astronomy tower party Who: Remus && open
In Remus’ humble opinion, this was the best place they could have chosen for a party. Whoever chose it, that is. Sure, it was a bit stupid from the point of view that it was an obvious place for the teachers to check and there was only one exit so nowhere to run, but it was high up, which he liked, and it was open, which was nice for smoking, and even if he had no intention of socialising the buzz of people around him felt almost comforting after the stretch of silence that was a summer in the Lupin household. Home was boring, and there was always something interesting going on at Hogwarts.
A shadow fell over him, where he sat at the edge of the observatory. “Nope,” Remus said, taking a drag from his third cigarette of the evening. “Not here to talk. I was actually thinking about heading off.”
there are two kinds of people in this world﹕ people who enjoy parties – the ones that thrive in crowds and get lost in the energy, people who walk through the door with arms raised in a celebratory cheer. then, there are people like her – who shrink in a crowd, who plaster their palms against the walls and can’t find their breath ( or their thoughts ) in the music. hestia jones does not succeed in parties the way she succeeds in everything else. it’s the most frustrating thing about her, she decides.
her breath finally slows when she thinks she’s alone, just to find somebody else here. hestia can’t hide the grimace even if she wanted to. “ who said i was here to talk? ” she almost snaps, hands moving to her temples. “ enjoy your silence, i’ll enjoy mine. ”
𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐚 ﹕
Where: Great Hall When: Breakfast, second day of classes Who: Marisol && open
Marisol groaned to herself as she walked into the Great Hall and headed immediately towards the first pot of coffee she saw, with no concerns as to whether it was at the Hufflepuff table or not. Her head was pounding and her next stop would have to be whoever might be able to provide her with a headache cure but caffeine was a higher priority in the moment. “Excuse me,” she said, planning to lean over the person in the way of her and her coffee but instead she found herself rolling her eyes at judgement radiating off some of the students sat there. “Yes, yes, all the professors have said it. This is the most important year yet, but haven’t all the years so far been the most important year yet? This is also my last year and that means I want to enjoy it and if that means I’m hungover on a school day then so be it! Are you going to pass me the coffee or not?”
nobody wears judgement quite like she does, as scarlet red as the sunrise and as blatant as a white flag ( but, hestia would never surrender – ever ). with her books weighing down her forearm and a certified glance pasted onto her face, she’s quick to judge her senior – someone who definitely deserves her respect more than most of these students do. “ every year is important – the most important yet, ” she almost sputters sarcastically. “ shouldn’t you care about a well rounded education? ” hestia remarks, but she still picks up the pot nimbly, offering to pour it for her. “ i don’t care if you’re hungover, just don’t disrupt my education with your habits. ”
𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 ﹕
‹ ✚ . : 𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔫.
one could make the statement, spit out with vitriol & proclaimed with fervent disgust, that bellatrix black was never happy. not for an innocent reason, anyway. & they’d be right. in fact, bella herself would encourage this sentiment with glee; if she could, she’d whisper it into the ears of each unfortunate soul within the hogwarts student body so that it could echo in their nightmares & clear a fear - paved path to classes in the morning. however, there was a notable exception, & that came from the relative sanctity of the owlery. this close to the start of term, both company & bird shit was minimal, though today salazar himself seemed to performing an unfunny bit for her from beyond the grave [ … ] just as she finished giving lady her feathers stroke of the day, a pair of footsteps announced themselves as a thundering, intrusive annoyance. like fate neatly ticking a checkbox, there’s a falter in the movement as one foot steps - & slips - in mockingly white goo. without looking away from lady’s red eyes, smirk obvious in her voice, “watch your step.”
her annoyance is common, written on features that fail to disguise any emotion that happens to cross. much to her dismay, hestia jones is written as an open book that desperately wishes her covers were closed; yet, her pages are always on display – heart on her sleeve no matter how she tries to hide it. clutched between her fingers is a letter scribbled so haphazardly she almost hopes that her mother fails to decipher her messages. ‘it’s not like she’ll be reading them anyway,’ she mutters to herself – words dipped and soaked with the kind of poison that often drips from her lips. hestia stomps like the world has wronged her, she walks as if the stone beneath her weathered soles are her enemy – when it is quite the opposite. the owlery is her one place of solace, where the smell of shit was her biggest worry instead of – anything and everything that could ( potentially and possibly ) be a problem for her. speaking of shit– watch your step. hestia jones raises her eyes at the other being in the owlery, tempted to turn on her heel and exit, save her trip for later or to chuck the letter at the slytherin ( truly, it’s nothing personal, hestia would do it to anyone else who were here at the same time as her, too ). she settles for a sniff, for wiping the sole of her right foot against the ground crassly. “ ‘d you already shit here, bella? ” her accent is stronger than usual, crowded words blending together. “ there are more efficient ways of marking your territory. ”

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𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐣𝐫 ﹕
“who needs four and a half cups of olives?” benjy yelled at a retreating figure before throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. where was he even going to get four and a half cups of olives? he turns around looking for a familiar face in the crowd and letting out a relieved sigh when he sees one but he keeps an ear out for an explanation as he approaches — unsure if he’d even hear one over the thumping music.
“please tell me that you just happen to have almost five cups of olives on you, right now.” he started with an attempt at a pleading look on his face. he still didn’t understand why the other even needed that many olives and was praying for an explanation.
a blink. hestia blinks blankly once. then, twice. with a twist in her features, she looks around them at the surrounding crowd; bodies that move in tandem with the music, hands finding their resting on hips, lips pressing chaste kisses onto the soft skin of necks – everyone but her might’ve had five cups of olives on their person. hestia is just about to duck out, a foot away from stepping away to go scream at a portrait that she knows will talk back to her.
“ do i look like i have five cups of olives on me? ” she asks. she doesn’t mean it to be malicious, and yet, it comes out that way anyway. her bark is much worse than her bite. “ no, seriously – do i look like that kind of girl? is having olives a good thing or a bad thing? ”
𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐬 ﹕
asleep – rodolphus is a better version of himself.
perhaps it’s because his mouth is shut (he often talks too much, and with too little substance). or perhaps with his face relaxed and the usual tightness in his jaw loosened, the fan of his lashes dark and his mouth slightly curled at the corners – rodolphus lestrange looks peaceful. as if he wasn’t capable at all of relentlessly teasing you or releasing subtly barbed comments with a flick of his tongue.
it’s better to leave him be. awake – rod is at least three times unlikable company.
it’s unfortunate that he’s sleeping on your books.
as if sensing the weight of someone else’s attention he rouses, gaze unfocused as it wavers on your neck before flicking up to the general vicinity of your right cheekbone. “are these yours?“ he lifts his head to pat the leather-bound cover of the top book. “let me borrow them. they’re comfortable.”
in another world, hestia is a better version of herself; like the multi - verse theory that runs rampant in every piece muggle science fiction media she can find, there’s a universe in which hesita is kind. hogwarts isn’t brutal, nor is it the most difficult thing she will face in her lifetime, but she is sure that by the end of this year, she will be either dead or missing from the stress. it looms over her, the upcoming exams that can determine the rest of her life – every career she wants, every choice she can make. if she were kinder, she might recognize the exhaustion that writes itself into others –– she’d even let rodolphus sleep on her books.
but, this isn’t that world. it’s this world and hestia does not let people ( especially rodolphus lestrange ) rest on her books.
with her arms crossed, hestia gives him an unimpressed glare before reaching over and swiping her books out from underneath him after he lifts his head. “ don’t you have a bed? ” she snaps. “ perhaps a pillow? other friends? a scarf? i need those books, you know. ”
𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ﹕
“it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me, ‘n i’m feeling … like this energy is not being reciprocated.” she pouts, lips pushing out dramatically to seal the ‘puss in boots’ act. “should i go from the top or am i just wasting my voice and my time?” she pauses, waits a second, then fingers, of their own accord, go to knock against their skull, gently. “hellooooo, anyone home?” she smiles, like you would at a growling bear, with a hint of concern and caution.
“did professor binns suck your life force already?” that’s how you know she’s trying to throw them a bone ⏤ if anyone has a kind word to say about the worst teacher in hogwarts history, it’s lily, even if it’s out of her ass most times.
her mind is elsewhere; a mile a minute as it usually does, brain cells withering with every moment that she spends listening to lily instead of paying attention to the pages before her. if hestia were a color, it’d be the most average shade of grey, compared to the courageous swipe of maroon and yellow that lily is. her fingers trail down the page of the book before her, the page of hand taken notes tucked into the page underneath as she raises her head to look at lily – a look of shock has molded itself onto her features over her standard – plainness. “ what? ”
finally . . . lily’s words catch up to her and hestia shakes her head. a firm hand goes to her flushed cheeks, the back of her hand pressing against the soft heat as her brows draw together tightly. “ why? oh my god, i look horrible, don’t i? is it my hair? you know, actually, i’m trying out this new makeup look, ” she lies – about the makeup. “ i don’t look TIRED, do i? you have to lie if i do. ”
◜ choi yerim , ciswoman , twenty . ◞ ┈ through her all - seeing crystal ball, [ 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 ] has her winking eye trained on hestia jones. the ever - enigmatic fifth year is infamous for her righteous ways, but something new seems to be weighing our resident au courant down. a rumor is spreading through these ancient halls like fiendfyre, & even their erudite face can't save them from the flames. she can try to drown out their sorrows to the tune of goddess, but xana can't fix everything ⏤ much less something as grim as [ 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 ]. but ten points to ravenclaw for trying.
hey besties <3 i’m cc & i’m super excited 2 be here! i’m writing your local hater, hestia jones, who i’ve actually never written before but i’m really excited for her. anywhomstdve, i’d love to plot w all of you & i’m ecstatic for this!
LOONA LOG #26 — choerry ep.5

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ah shit im sorry man, my schedule for the week is all booked
Cant relate here is my schedule 😎
when people ask me if I’m okay: no bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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*looks in a mirror* you again