Marisol Jacinto Ayala

marisol jacinto ayala // 7th year // hufflepuff

Culinary club && debate team && avid party-goer

Proud vegan

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          𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚁𝚈  𝚃𝙾  𝙿𝙾𝙿𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚁  𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙵  ,  wicked  alecto  carrow  has  a  heart  .  though  it  may  be  cold  ,  fragmented  and  generally  un  -  alive  ,  it’s  there  .  but   as   a   consequence   of   recent   events   ,   it   was   currently  in  the  middle  of  her  throat  ,  the  serrated   edges  causing  pain  to  radiate  throughout  her  whole  body  .  it’s  a  familiar  feeling  .  and  it  brings  her  back  to  that  day  ,  that  moment  .  a  moment  which  has  just  been  publicly  announced  to  the  whole  of  hogwart’s  student  body  .  the  chair  screeches  against  old  mahogany  floors  as  she  stands  up  ,  ripping  the  parchment  where  the  hot  pink  ink  had  jut  brought  to  life  her  worst  nightmare  before  she  stomps  out  of  the  classroom  ,  face  flushed  with  bright  red  fury  . 

           “  out  of  my  way  !  ”  she  doesn’t  hesitate  to  shove  past  a  few  first  -  years  and  punch  through  hufflepuff’s  reserve  quidditch  team  as  she  runs  down  the  grand  staircase  ,  “  you  ─  ”  she  grabs  a  passerby  by  the  arm  ,  nails  no  doubt  clawing  onto  their  skin  .  “  where  is  lovegood  and  his  pathetic  posse  of  writers  ?  i’m  gonna  hex  them  all  to  fucking  oblivion  .   ”

Marisol was calmly walking with the reserve Quidditch team back to Hufflepuff common room, mostly because they were more interested in how practice had gone than the gossip circling round the school. She knew how it felt to have everybody talking about something that she couldn’t help, as someone who had been victim to such gossip before (two years ago, and she had since learned to embrace the entire school knowing that her dad had walked out on her and her mum on finding out they were witches and taken her squib brother away from her at the same time). As such, she didn’t want to engage in all that drama.

honestly   ,   honestly   ,   laurie   doesn’t   mind   the   vivaciousness   that   seemed   to   be   so   delicately   intertwined   in   the   years   of   teenagedom   .   but   he   has   always   been   an   old   soul   ,   who   preferred   quiet   mornings   with   a   warm   up   cup   of   tea   ,   some   marmalade   on   toast   and   something   to   read   in   his   hands   .   his   eyes   remained   fixed   on   the   words   of   his   novel   despite   the   commotion   around   him   and   so   caught   up   in   the   story   ,   he   honestly   barely   even   realised   that   anything   out   of   the   ordinary   had   gone   on   .   that   was   when   he   was   ordered   .   and   if   there   was   one   thing   to   know   about   the   edgecombe   boy   it   was   that   he   did   not   respond   well   to   orders   (   his   muggle   ,    astrology   -   devoted   mother   had   once   conjured   that   it   must   have   been   due   to   being   a   sagittarius   )   .   “   do   it   yourself   ,   climb   onto   the   table   if   you   must   .   and   if   all   else   fails   ,   you’ve   got   three   other   tables   to   steal   coffee   from   .   ”   he   says   ,   almost   monotonously   ,   expression   blank   ,   gaze   unwavering   from   the   book   .

her eyes sparkle at the mention of the party , unnoticedly inching closer. ‘ oh ? ’ she queries , lips still curved into a smile , before it presses down into a pout. ‘ i’ve been busy with settling in that i missed it. what a shame ! ’ it’s a faux show of displeasure because contrary to popular belief , petunia wasn’t really fond of parties but attends one just for whatever spicy tidbits she could possibly witness. a laugh soon wipes away the pout , amused at marisol’s words. ‘ really now ? well , anything fun happen at the party aside from .. well ! the party ? ’

He nods, agreeing that the craving for olives is a strange one. Benjy straightens slightly, shoulders losing their slight hunch as he considers for the first time why exactly he was trying so hard to help. “Huh, guess I never really stopped to consider that I didn’t need to help,” he replied, lips pursing into a slight frown as he thought about it. “They might come back, I guess I can tell them then that I don’t know where to get olives.” He considers the olive oil, head tilting slightly as he tries to envision the process of making olive oil before realizing he doesn’t know how it’s made. “Isn’t olive oil just the oil that olives were stored in?” he blurts out before really considering it further. 

Marisol nodded sympathetically. “It’s a good thing! You want to help everyone, no questions asked. It shows you have a kind heart.” She patted him on the chest to punctuate her words. “Only, sometimes a few questions can be good. Like when a stranger asks for your help with a strange task no explanations given and then leaves you to worry about it while they go off and enjoy the party that you are currently not enjoying properly.” She reached out, about to grab onto his hand and persuade him to let himself be distracted from the topic of olives when his question made her stop still with a bewildered look. “The oil... no, Benjy, no. It’s made from olives. Like coconut oil is made from coconuts and sesame oil is made from sesame seeds. You can buy olive oil on its own for cooking that doesn’t have any olives in and honestly I hope it never has been used as storage if I’m going to cook with it. Now really, come on. I think there was a mention of martinis? Don’t worry, we can have them with a twist instead.”

@frankunculus: ask them what's better

@frankunculus: ice mice or zebra hoofs. very divisive.

@marija: you know, that would be a fun session

@bjcrouchaha: just say yes to everything ig

@marija: you're underestimating how many options there are, not to mention the debate team's ability to turn everything into an argument even the perceived notion of somebody not expressing their true opinion in the name of getting a decision made more quickly

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.  ”

Marisol blinked in surprise at Hestia’s vitriol. She rankled at the judgement but she could at least understand that. “What makes you think I don’t?” She shook her head, figuring she meant the partying. “Just because I think there’s more to life than education, doesn’t mean I don’t value it. ‘Work hard, play hard’: that’s my motto.” Holding a cup still, she nodded gratefully to the offer of coffee. “Fill it right up, please. I take it black.” A frown appeared on her face. “I’m not even in any of your classes...” she said, words slowing as her eyes flickered over the books the younger student held. Her voice dropped in concern. “Look, I’m a Hufflepuff. I know the meaning of hard work. But sometimes overworking can lead to a bigger disruption than letting go occasionally.”

Marisol Jacinto Ayala Gif Moodboard

“Be silly, be honest, be kind”    - ralph waldo emerson

——  ♡  *   when  marisol  walks  into  a  room  ,  heads  turn  ,  or  ted’s  does  at  least .   ❛   MARI !  ❜  ted  called  out  ,  spotting  one  of  his  best  friends  from  across  the  great  hall –  neither  hufflepuff  was  at  their  own  table  ,  which  ted  took  as  a  sign  they  both  should  be .  he  jumped  from  his  seat  at  the  ravenclaw  table  (  which  was  on  the  table  )  and  practically  skipped  over  to  his  friend  after  a  quick  goodbye .

                     “marisol !”  he  called  out  again  ,  almost  singing  her  name.  teddy  threw  an  arm  around  her  shoulder  ,  catching  the  last  bit  of  the  conversation  at  the  slytherin  table .  “we  have  coffee  ,  too ,  mar.”   ted  suggested  softly.  “wanna  go  over  with  me  and  check  it  out?” 

A familiar voice calling out her name distracted Marisol from her goals and she turned her head, grinning when her eyes landed on Ted. He was easy to spot, after all. His chair was on the Ravenclaw table. “TED!” she called back, paying no mind to the others in the hall who didn’t look so happy about them shouting across the room to each other. “Good morning! How are you this fine day?”

she watches with mild amusement , moving to pass her a pot when the addressed student does not. ‘ honestly , i am loving the energy , ’ she comments , eyes crinkling as she smiles. the other slytherins give her a look before going about their business. petunia merely shrugs , turning her attention back towards the hufflepuff stray. ‘ must’ve been quite a party if you’re showing up hungover .. on just the second day. ’

Aurelia was sipping a cup of tea when Marisol asked to be excused, and without even glancing her way replied, “You’re excused.” They were hardly expecting the rambling that followed, but it managed to snag enough of their attention that they shifted to face the older student after placing her cup back down. “Marisol, is it? Listen, I’m sure that you’re just looking to start off your day on the right foot but I think my tablemates and I would all prefer that you either take a seat or head over to your own table rather than interrupting our breakfasts.” She gestured to the handful of empty seats, “You’re welcome to join us, I’m sure. Just have a little decorum, dear.”

Benjy glad accepted the hug, pulling Marisol tight for a long moment before stepping back and grinning at her. “I  — you know, I’m not really sure what they plan to do with that many olives and they ran off before I could ask.” He turns back trying to see if he could spot the younger student in the crowd before turning back. “You know, I think that would be kind of cruel. Maybe I could use a summoning charm to summon some olives, though I guess I’d have to specify ‘jar of olives’ unless I want olives flying everywhere.” He sighs giving the room one last glance before calling it quits mentally, at least for the moment. “Wait  — olive oil? Why would I want olive oil at a party?”

Marisol followed his gaze into the crowd, though she had no idea who the ‘they’ he was referring to was, nor who or what he was looking at. “How very mysterious. I guess we all get our strange cravings. Olives isn’t one I’ve heard of before, though.” She nodded her agreement, already feeling a twist of guilt in her stomach for even suggesting such a cruel action against the house-elves. It was a sign of how drunk she was that she hadn’t thought that through more before saying it. “Summoning might be better, except now that I know you don’t actually want them for yourself, I’m wondering why you’re so fussed. They haven’t even stuck about to wait for you to get them.” Her eyes widened when he questioned the olive oil. “Well, I don’t know, but it makes as much sense as wanting five jars of olives. A bit of bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar makes for a better snack, you know, because carbs are always good. Especially when drinking. I wonder how many olives you need to make a bottle of olive oil.”

‹        ✚      .          :　  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.”

She knew her mother’s owl’s schedule well enough by now that Marisol was fairly sure the bird would be waiting for her with that first letter of the year. Most people didn’t bother going to the owlery to pick up post, rather waiting for breakfast when they would all be let into the Great Hall. In fact, a lot of people didn’t even think about the fact that the owls would arrive at different times of day, not all at once like that. When it came to animals, Marisol had never been most people. The mess of the owlery didn’t bother her and she liked being around the other owls as much as her family one. More than that, she had a close relationship with her mum and she wanted to read her letter as soon as possible (no, not just because she forgot to pack enough underwear).

It was for that reason that she ran up the steps of the tower, only faltering when her foot landed in sticky goo, sliding a little way forward but thankfully not far enough that she ended in the splits or on her bum. She waved a hand dismissively once she had regained her balance. “Oh, it’s nothing a tergeo couldn’t fix. Do you have a letter too? Hello, gorgeous.” Though her voice didn’t change in tone, the latter was directed towards owl that flew down to greet her rather than the other woman. She gave the bird a stroke and let it nip her ear as she untied her mum’s letter.