#I’m officially done with college so this blog is back in business!!

[rattle-the-gods]

Pronouns ref of the cast so far!

Bonus under cut

[alexiskrystina]

My Blogging Journey.

Way back in 2011 shortly after my son was born, I started a blog. Back then, I had just graduated with my Masters in Accounting and as much as I loved having a “real job” vs part time gigs while in most of college, I knew this 9-5 situation was not for me. So, I thought maybe I’d try blogging—people make money blogging so I thought I’d give it a go. IT WAS SO FUN OMG.

I never did make a living with blogging (if you want to read about my career journey and how I became the owner of PMF, click here), but blogging opened up so many doors for me. First of all, I discovered just how much I love writing.

I discovered fiction writing and I went down a fiction rabbit hole where I connected with so many writers and I actually wrote a 68,000 word novel. I submitted it to agencies, I sent it to my friends to beta read—the whole 9. No agent ever picked it up and I ultimately decided that it had to be rewritten but I never had the actual drive and passion to get it done, so anyways, there it sits. That being said, the journey to writing it was an amazing experience—an experience I’m not sure I want to do again. One of those one and done situations.

Blogging also connected me with an amazing community of women. I was crafting so much—so much that I ended up starting an Etsy shop, I learned a TON about online marketing—something I didn’t know then would actually help me launch my own online business years later. I also made so many amazing connections and friends.

Fast forward to today—I haven’t officially blogged in literally years as I built my business and had my second child. Life got crazy, I guess, and I stopped blogging. But I didn’t stop writing. I still had to write tons of content for my business. Now, though, I’m ready to get back to blogging! And this time I hope it sticks—which I mean, it will because I’m prioritizing it now. :D

[peachycanton]

I’ve been away.

I’ve been away from this site for a long time. I’ve been really busy!

I’ve officially started college this past fall and while I’m still only a freshman, I’ve done a lot! I have a 3.5 GPA and I’m vice president of a club now. It’s a lot of work, as well as regular life stuff so I haven’t been able to be on here that much. I took Calculus 1 this past semester and got an A, which took a lot of time. Being in school full time school and doing extra-curricular stuff, meant not a lot of time for this blog or language learning in general. 

I also forgot which email and password i had for this site since I do have another blog. The other blog is not linked on here at all so i have to manually log in and log out each time. Which was a hassle. But I remember now and I’ve reset stuff so I should be fine now.

I’m now finally getting back into mandarin and managing my time more. I’m making time and room for the things I really want to do. So I’ll be active on here more.

Anyway, nice to be back.

[weelittleweasley]

sheer brilliance (f.w.)

prompt: being a teacher’s assistant at a local college, you are assigned to a philosophy professor who is notorious for being young, cocky, and undeniably handsome. does his arrogance get in the way of you getting or job done? or is it his looks?

pairing: professor! fred x teacher’s assistant! reader

warnings: typically frowned upon relationships (oopsie i love forbidden romances that are legal and consentual mwah), language, food, drinking, alcohol

word count: 15k (I am so sorry I really couldn’t help myself)

author’s note: there won’t be a direct part two of this, but you can bet ur sweet booty that i will be writing more prof!fred in this universe because he’s just so HNNNGG

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff​ @harrysweasleys​ @gcdricreads​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @lol-idk-oops​ @another-lonely-heart​ @kaseyrose96-blog​ @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @spacexcowgirl​ @PaintballKid711 @vogueweasley​ @freddie-weaselbee​ @freds-slut​ @missmulti​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @valwritesx​ @sweeterthansammy​ @loonylovegood13​ @lostaurorax​

“It’s so nice to see another young face here,” a blonde haired girls sighs next to you as you swipe your ID card to enter the university building for your first official day of work. “I thought I was going to be the only new TA here,” she confides in you as your shoes click down the corridor as you make your way through the halls. 

You flash her a comforting smile, “Same here. But I think there’s more of us on the way. Besides, we’re relatively early.” 

As a last year graduate student, you needed to be a teaching assistant in order to get your degree and finish your course requirements. It wasn’t an opportunity you were thrilled about, but it would give you hands on teaching experience in a university setting that could be very valuable. That was, if you had the right professor.

“I’m Luna, by the way,” the girl next to you chimes as she fixes the strap of her purse, offering you her hand to shake, gladly accepting it. “I’m a TA for Women and Gender Studies,” she adds proudly.

“I’m (Y/N),” you smile, “TA for Philosophy.” Luna looks impressed as you tell her about your area of study, making you laugh. “I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds. I quite like it, actually. Just hoping the professor I’m assisting is a good one,” you nervously speak, turning the corner to walk to the Dean’s office.

Luna shakes her head, “I hear you. It’s definitely nerve wracking, but Hogwarts University has some of the top rated professors in the country, so I really don’t think we’ll have many problems in that department.” 

You suck in a deep breath as you nod. The university was quite prestigious, you were shocked when you were informed you would be assisting here, but honored nonetheless. However, there was still a pool of nerves that swam around in your stomach as you thought about the professor you would be assisting. You could have a someone who was so knowledgeable in your field of study or someone who was a complete ass. It was a dice roll. “One can only hope,” you sigh before arriving in front of the Dean’s door, placing three knocks on the wooden door.

The door swings open to reveal a happy looking man, brown hair combed back and a toothy grin on his face. He wore houndstooth pants with a white button down tucked in and a neatly tied bow tie around his neck, matching the color pattern of his pants. His face glowed with excitement as he beamed, “Ms. Lovegood, Miss (Y/L/N), so glad to finally have you with us!” You and Luna offered him a warm smile in return as he opened his office door wider for the two of you to enter. “Welcome to Hogwarts! I’m Dean Longbottom, but you two can just call me Neville,” he smiles as he sits behind his desk adorned with small succulents and stationary. “I’ve been anticipating your arrival along with the other teaching assistants for awhile. It’s so nice that we have such a large pool of you for this semester. The professors are quite lucky to get quite a brilliant bunch like you,” he compliments.

“Speaking on behalf of all the TAs, I think I can confidently say we feel honored to be here,” Luna smiles softly as the dean chuckles and you nod.

Neville nods his head, “We are honored to have you.” You and Luna thank him before he begins again, “So, the two of you have some time before you are reporting to your classrooms for lecture. How about I give you the tour of the campus? A proper Hogwarts welcome?”

You and Luna excitedly agree and Dean Longbottom starts to walk you through the hallways of the beautiful university. The university had once been castle during the Gothic era, still maintaining the same structure. Beautiful hallways, paintings of founders hung in the walls, windows adorned with stained glass as sunlight seeped through. “The dining hall is on the left over here,” Neville gestures, revealing a large room lined with tables, school flags hanging high as students varying in year gather to chat and eat. “And if you look ahead, you’ll find the campus courtyard. It’s beautiful this time of year with the flowers in full bloom,” Neville smiles to himself. “Across the street are the campuses houses. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Syltherins, and Hufflepuffs,” he points as you see tall houses, coated in paint of their respective colors. “I myself was a Gryffindor when I was a student,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you and Luna. “Other than that, I think that concludes the tour. Here are your staff lanyards and your professor assignments have been forwarded to you in your emails. There’s still some time left before lecture, so feel free to hang around campus or in the staff lounge. If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate. I’ll see you two very soon!” he waves before disappearing down the hall. 

In this moment, you take the time to look around the hall to see the bustling student body, smiling and laughing as they make their way down the halls. You softly smile to yourself, reminiscing about when you were an undergraduate. A freshman in the halls, excited for university. Now, you were nearly done with graduate school, soon to be a certified professor. Time had flown by in the blink of an eye. 

“You want to take a peak in the staff lounge?” Luna disturbs your thoughts.

Turning to her, you give her a smile and a nod before walking up the stairs three levels to reach the staff lounge. Inside were a few professors scattered here and there, but mostly there were TAs. The room radiated buzzing nervous energy as red lanyards signifying TA status hung around a few necks. One of the boys sitting at the table spotted the red lanyard and spoke cooly, “You’ve found the right place.” 

He rose from his chair and walked over to you and Luna with a shocking amount of confidence. His jet black hair was gelled back neatly, a crisp light blue button up and handsome tie clung on his neck as he stuck out a hand for you to shake. “Name’s Harry,” he proudly shook your hand. “I was a TA here two years ago, now in charge of the TA program and coordinator for the math department. You two look new. Not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just I could sense it,” he laughs.

“(Y/N),” you shake his hand firmly as he smiles. Luna does the same with a small smile. “You’re right about the new part. It’s both our first semesters here,” you confirm. 

Harry nods and walks back to his chair, leaning back, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Nice. What’s your area of focus?” he asks. 

Luna grabs a seat and speaks, “Women and Gender Studies. You by any chance know a Ginevra Weasley? She’ll be the professor I’m assisting this semester.”

Harry lets out a chuckle before an unfamiliar voice speaks up, “Oh, Potter is familiar here with Ms. Ginevra Weasley. That’s his fiancé.” You turn around to face a smirking face as he sips on his piping cup of black coffee. “I’m Seamus Finnegan. Head TA for the chemistry department,” he introduces. “You’ve lucked out,” he tells Luna. “Ginny is the best in the department. She’s a hard ass, but you’ll learn a lot from her.”

Luna smiles to herself, “Very excited to get started then.” 

“What about you?” Harry nods to you as Seamus slides into a seat next to Harry. “Area of study?”

“Philosophy,” you reply cooly. Seamus gives you an impressed look as Harry smiles lightly. “Specifically Ethics,” you add on. “I’m assisting another Weasley, actually?” you look at Luna. “Are they by any chance related?” you ask Harry and Seamus.

The two of them just chuckle as Harry sighs, “Yeah, the whole family basically teaches here. You’ll learn fast. They all got jobs at the same time since their father is on the board of directors. All of them deserve to be here though. Brilliant professors, all of them.”

You let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize you were holding in. Confirmation that you had a more than capable professor was good news. 

Seamus continues on Harry’s tangent. “Basically one in each department,” he shrugs. “Ginny is a  women and gender studies professor, Percy is the head of the business department, Charles is in the vet school, Bill is an adjunct professor now, but he’s in the language department with a focus in French, Ron is the European History professor and by the looks of it, he’ll be the head of the department next year, George is the chemistry professor I assist, and then there’s Fred w-”

“That’s the one,” you interrupt. “He’s the one I’m assisting this semester. How’s he? Do you have any intel that could help a new bee out?” you ask hopefully with a glimmer of jest in your voice. But the look on Harry and Seamus’ faces make your stomach do a flip. They look at each other knowingly as Seamus lets out a small chuckle. He mutters a small yikes before sipping on his coffee and excuses himself from the table to go attend his lecture with George. “What was that look about? Is he a lazy professor?” you groan.

Harry lightly laughs and shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Fred Weasley is a great professor, no need to worry about that. He’s just...how do I put this without getting fired?” he whispers the last bit to himself as your eyes widen and you lean in closer with a what?, making Harry shake his head. “It’s not bad, I swear, he’s not like...unstable or anything. He’s just very cocky. Fred is good at his job and he knows it. He doesn’t let anyone forget it. He’s been ranked top professor at the school for the past three years and wears it like a badge of honor.” 

Great, a cocky professor. A narcissist. Just what you needed when starting a job that could determine the fate of your career. You sigh and flop back in your chair as Luna gives you a sympathetic look. “Bloody brilliant,” you huff.

“He’s a great professor though!” Harry tries to make light of the conversation. “Fred has been teaching straight out of university, so he knows what he’s doing. Students really admire him and his lectures are some of the best that I’ve seen. He knows how to have fun in the class, but he doesn’t take any bullshit,” Harry reassures you as you give him a weak nod. It was nice to hear that he was at least respected and admired by the students. Maybe you could learn to do the same. 

Luna takes a look at her watch and gives you a nudge. “It’s twenty minutes until the new lecture block. Reckon we should introduce ourselves to our professors?” she asks as you sigh with a reluctant nod. After that bit of information you just received, you were less excited to meet your professor. “It was nice meeting you, Harry,” she beams to Harry as you two rise from your seats. 

“Lovely meeting you two. I’m sure I’ll catch you around in the halls,” he winks friendly before you both exit the staff lounge.

Nervously, you played with the cuffs of your turtleneck, walking down the halls, parting with Luna, wishing the other good luck in their first lecture. As you strolled the hallway of the fifth floor, searching from room 523 where Philosophical Ethics would take place. You wondered how he would look. Old, no doubt. Harry said he’s been teaching since he graduated which had to mean he was in his late forties. Was he a cranky old white man? Great. Just fantastic. He probably had the traditional way of teaching which meant he sat at the front of the classroom and spoke at the class for three hours. Your worst nightmare. How could someone ruin something you loved?

You stumble upon the wooden door with golden paint etched into it 523. With a confident inhalation, you push the door open and enter the classroom, neatly set up for the next lecture. Three rows of eight, one next to the other. In the front of the classroom was a large chalkboard with the words Welcome to Ethics written in sloppy handwriting. Gently, there was soft jazz music playing from a small speaker, filling the classroom, saxophone and trumpet melodies echoing. Everything looked normal. Except for who sat at the desk.

At the front of the classroom, sitting at a dark brown desk was a tall, lean young man with tuffs of orange hair styled back. He wore a freshly ironed white button down that was tucked neatly into a pair of chestnut corduroys with matching brown chukka boots. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular biceps and toned arms. A shiny silver Rolex watch was strapped on his left wrist as he tapped a pen against his desk. But you couldn’t get over how young he was. The youth in his face was lively as his dark chocolate eyes scanned over a paper in front of him. Your presence was unknown to him as he continued to flip through papers, dragging his pen across the margins. 

Politely, you clear your throat, causing him to look up from his paper, looking up at you. When his eyes landed on yours, you gulped thickly. His whole face was undeniably attractive. His angled jaw, full lips, soft eyes. He gave you a confused look. “Lecture isn’t for another twenty minutes,” he told you before looking back down at his paper, almost dismissing you. “But feel free to have your choice in seat. I hope you don’t mind the music. Let me know if it’s distracting,” he tells you before flipping the pages again.

You inhale deeply. “Actually, Professor Weasley, I’m (Y/N),” you introduce yourself. Professor Weasley looks up at you with confused eyes, trying to put together your identity. “Your TA for the semester?” you speak with a small smile. “I’m very excited to get started with you.”

But before you can ask him what you could do to help set up the classroom, he speaks, “I didn’t ask for a TA.”

His words take you aback for a moment. Instead of an introduction or even a simple hello, he told you he didn’t ask for a TA. “I beg your pardon?” you ask with almost a laugh.

“I didn’t ask for a TA. I don’t need one,” he clarifies to you, rising from his desk as you gulp, taking in how tall he was, standing proudly above you. “I’ve never needed a TA in the past, and I don’t know who decided I needed one this year. After being voted best professor since I got here, I don’t understand why this is the year I need one,” he laughs, making his way around the desk, leaning against it, tucking his hands in his pockets.

You give him a disturbed look. Harry telling you that Fred Weasley was cocky was a damn understatement. The bloody guy was telling you to your face that you weren’t wanted or needed here. That he could do his job perfectly fine without you. “I’m sure you don’t need one, Professor, but this was my assignment. Dean Longbottom assigned me here and I’m just following what I was told to do in order to get my degree,” you tell him, trying to remain cool and polite when you’d rather tell him to suck it up and deal with it.

Fred run his fingers through his hair before placing them on either side of his body, leaning back into his desk, tongue pressed against his cheek. His biceps flexed underneath his tight white shirt, making you gulp, trying not to get distracted at the fact that your professor was not only a dick, but an incredibly handsome one. “Neville assigned you?” he laughed. “Alright. Well, I’ll go down to office and get this sorted away,” he huffed before standing up straight.

But before he could take a step further, you stopped him, now getting frustrated that this guy didn’t even try being nice to you. “Hold on,” you stopped him, fixing the strap of your purse on your shoulder before placing it on the desk next to you. “This job was assigned to me. There are no other TA positions available in the philosophy department this late in the game. I’m not gonna lose this job just because you allegedly don’t need a TA,” you try to keep cool, but the venom leaks out every now and then.

Fred gives you a light chuckle before speaking, “Not allegedly. I don’t need one. There’s a reason why I’m one of the most successful and youngest professors. I can run this class by myself without some grad student’s help.”

Now, you are pissed. “Alright, you know what?” you fold your arms over your chest. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to like this. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am and I will be respected. Regardless if I am a TA, or a student, or a co-worker. I am here to do a job and I will do that job no matter what anyone says,” you tell him as he just stares at you, a cocky smirk on his face that makes your blood boil. It was like he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. “So how about we save ourselves the dramatics and just be satisfied with the fact that this is the situation?”

Fred just exhales and rubs hand over his face. You could tell he didn’t want you here, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to be here either after his little stunt. You were quite sure he was capable of running his own class, but you weren’t here to take his job. You were here to be an assistant to his teaching, being there to support and help him. This was a requirement for you, not a pastime. “Alright then,” he eventually states, making the way back to his desk. “You can grab a desk from the rows and bring it up to the front, I guess,” he huffs as you remain standing with your arms still folded across your chest. 

He looks up and gives you a look. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” you ask with venom pouring from your glossed lips as you give him a sarcastic smile. 

Fred gives you a sarcastic smile back as he drops his pen and speaks, “Fred Weasley. MA in Philosophy and Human Ethics. Cambridge Graduate. Cum laude.” The pride dripped from his voice as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “And you are?”

You wanted to throw your shoe at his head, your blood was boiling at how arrogant and prideful this man was. “If you were listening before, you would know my name is (Y/N). MA in Philosophy and Human Ethics. University of Oxford. 3.98 GPA,” you mimic him.

Fred gives out a chuckle as you grab your purse and start to settle yourself in the room. “Oxford student? Fitting that our universities are rivals,” he huffs before pulling a desk and chair over for you, placing it near his desk. 

“And why would that be?” you ask sarcastically as Fred bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to snap a snarky response back at you. “Listen, Fred, I’m just here to do my job and do it well. I’m not here to step on your toes. I’m here to finish my requirements so I can get certified,” you tell him as you stand beside your desk, smoothing out your plaid skirt that your turtleneck was tucked neatly into. 

As you stand there, Fred’s eyes rake up and down your body, taking you in as a whole. The first time he’s done this since you walked in. His eyes are like magnets, scanning every inch of your body and how you carry yourself so confidently in the space. When his eyes reach yours, you inhale deeply, trying to prevent the heat from rising to your cheeks as your handsome superior checks you out. “I’m not worried about you, darling,” his thick accent coos. “You’re the least of my worries.”

Just as the words slip out of his mouth, students start to file into the classroom, greeting Fred with good mornings and how are you’s. You tell yourself to calm down, to remain friendly, and cool. As the students file in, Fred greets them all with a warm smile. “Welcome back everyone. This is Philosophical Ethics with Professor Weasley. You all can call me Professor, Professor Weasley, Fred, Professor Fred. Just not Freddie, that one is reserved for my mum,” he teases, earning a few chuckles from the class. He glances over to you with a small stare and begrudgingly introduces you, “This is (Y/N), my TA for the semester. She will be here with us for...?”

“The whole semester,” you remind him with a sweet smile contrasted by your  daggers for eyes. “Looking forward to working with you all,” you tell the class with a warm smile, receiving a few back in return.

Fred sighs, “Right. Well, anyway, let’s take roll and then get right into things, yeah?” The class nods as you sigh. “Alright, who can talk to me about Nietzsche?”

This was going to be a long semester.

Three hours of the class went by at a sluggish pace. Not to mention, Fred didn’t extent an invitation for your opinion or thoughts during the lesson. You didn’t expect him to let you teach the class, but instead, you just sat and listened to him run the class. 

Although he didn’t let you say much, you had to admit that his lecture was quite good. He led the class in a really interesting way, almost like a Socratic seminar type. He let his students make observations and create open dialogues about the philosophy you were covering. Fred encouraged student’s thoughts rather than shut them down and he tried to encourage everyone to participate to make sure everyone said what they wanted to say. But you, he didn’t extend that offer. 

Instead, you took notes. Notes on Fred Weasley. The way he spoke with his hands, how he sloppily wrote on the board with chalk, underlining words, circling, and drawing small diagrams. How he folded his arms across his chest when someone brought up a provocative thought. How he nibbled on his bottom lip when a student asked him a question. How he glanced over at you every once in awhile, catching your eye and smirking when he caught you looking at him. You would roll your eyes and continue to scribble down his mannerisms, what he focused on in class, and how he conducted it. 

The students ate up everything that fell from his lips. It was like magic, the way he could capture 20 students attention about something as niche as existentialism. But you couldn’t lie, Fred Weasley was captivating.

“Okay, for next week’s class read Nicomachean Ethics and start drawing comparisons and differences between Aristotle and Nietzsche,” Fred announces as he closes his book and dismisses his students for the day, a chorus of thank you’s and have a good day’s echo in the classroom.

The final student exits as Fred retires back to his desk, sorting papers and filing away miscellaneous papers. You click your pen as you watch him, waiting for him to break the silence. But instead he sits at his desk and starts scribbling into his planner. With a sigh, you break the silence and speak, “You give a really informative lecture. You engage with the students really well.”

You thought a compliment would be a peace offering. An olive branch of sorts. But Fred took it as an opportunity to dig into you. “I know. That’s why it’s a full class and I’ve got a waitlist 30 kids long,” he speaks without looking up at his desk. 

The guy was cocky as all hell and he was letting you soak it all in. The grip on your pen grows tighter as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth in irritation, trying to maintain a steady facade. “So,” you breathe out as you grab your bag, pulling your notebook from your back. “You want to talk about lesson plans? I see that you’ve assigned Aristotle for the next week and a half. Maybe a smooth transition would be going into Kant and talking about the categorical imperative?” you suggest, sitting on a desk in front of Fred’s.

He peers up at you through his lashes, your legs dangling from the desk. He gives you all of his attention as he pushes his sleeves further up his arms, fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “I’ve already taken care of the lesson plans for the rest of the semester. It’s all planned out. It has been since last month,” he explains to you as you nod your head, thinking he would offer something else for you to do.

“Okay,” you trail off. “Is there...anything you want me to do? Coordinate office hours? Set up my own as well so I can be a resource to the students. I can give you my phone number and email to put on the syllabus, so the students know they can reach out to me if they have any questions,” you tell him as you start to scribble down your email and number.

But Fred shakes his head, “Won’t be necessary. If a student needs you, they’ll come to you. Besides, they should really come to me if they need anything since I have more knowledge about the course.”

His passive comments were starting to pile up on you as you inhale deeply, your chest heaving. The turtleneck around your body felt very warm as anger started to bubble in your chest. “Maybe if you told me about the course, I could be a valuable resource to students. Remember, I’m just as qualified as you. I just haven’t graduated yet,” you remind Fred as you lean back on the desk, legs swinging back and forth as Fred starts to pack up his briefcase.

“Yet,” he looks up at you with a smirk, pink lips curled upwards as he leans over his desk, gathering his things. Even though the smirk was condescending as all hell, it did something to you. In more than one way. It made anger gather in your chest, frustration tingle in your temples, but butterflies pitter patter away deep in your stomach.

“So what exactly do you want me to do?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest as Fred grabs his jacket with one hand, his briefcase in the other as he does a once over his desk.

Calmly, Fred speaks, “You can start by filing away those papers on my desk and then once that’s done, make a list of the students in grade point average order. I want to know who needs the most help and who is fine on their own.” After he gives you that direction, he starts for the door.

With a scoff, you hop down from the desk. “And you’re just going to leave?” you laugh at him as he place his hand on the door with a shrug. “You know I am a teaching assistant. Not your personal assistant,” you spit at him.

Fred swings the door open and stands there with a smile. “Teaching is more than just standing front of a room as talking out of your ass, dear,” he tells you as the nickname makes you bite your tongue from yelling at him. 

“You really are arrogant, you know that?” you sneer at him with your hands on your hips, glaring at him. You stare at him as he stands in front of the open door, jacket laid over his forearm, leather briefcase in hand, his other hand combing through his fire red hair.

Fred smiles lightly to you before sighing, “I’m bloody brilliant, (Y/N). You would be arrogant, too.” His words make you shake your head with a scoff. “Sort those papers for me, won’t you? I’ll see you tomorrow in here. Early. 9am sharp.”

But before you can ask him why, he’s out the door and calling after another professor, leaving you alone to your own devices. You let out a frustrated groan as you cover your face with your hands. Of course, you got stuck with the prick professor who takes advantage of an extra set of hands. You walk over to his desk and see a small stack of papers to be sorted and filed away along with the list he wanted you to organize. 

You plop yourself into the desk seat and carefully start going through each file, examining each student’s credentials, organizing them by GPA and last name. You note who could be a tutor and who needs a tutor, who is at exit level, who is at entry level, so on and so forth. The task was interesting, but so time consuming. It was a way you could start to learn more about your students, even if it was through paper.

It had been an hour and a half and you were on your last file when you hear a gentle knock at the door. Slowly, it creaks open to reveal Luna and Harry together. Luna carries two lattes in her hand and smiles, extending her arm out to give it to you. “You are a saint, you know that?” you laugh as you accept the warm, caffeinated beverage. 

“You’re still working?” she asks in disbelief as you finalize some last notes in the margins of one student’s file. “But class ended almost two hours ago.”

You look up at the both of them. “Oh, I know. But Fred left after the lecture and insisted I do the filing and note taking whilst he got to leave on time,” you speak through gritted teeth, finishing scribbling your last note and flopping the pen down, leaning back in the desk chair with a huff. “You weren’t lying when you told me he’s a self-righteous fuck,” you talk to Harry.

Harry laughs and digs his hands into his pockets with a huff. “Well, I didn’t use those words,” he laughs as you give him a look through your mascara coated lashes. He gives you a sorry sigh and leans over the desk, “Fred is a great guy one on one, but as a professor...he just likes having reign over his classroom. It’s not just you. His last TA was three years ago and he made the kid miserable. The kid, Dean Thomas, was so sick of philosophy after he switched to psychology. Now he’s a first year professor.” You roll your eyes and push yourself out of the desk, grabbing your purse and notebooks, piling them all in as Harry continues. “What happened today?”

Recounting the moments of the day made you frustrated, but you allowed yourself to vent to your co-workers. “Well, when I walked in, he thought I was a student,” you speak as Harry and Luna give you an apologetic look, Harry muttering an ouch. “Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Then I told him I was a TA and he told me he didn’t need one, because he’s more than capable of running his own classroom,” you mimic his pompous attitude. “He had the gall to threaten me to go to Neville’s office and find me a replacement class! I mean, sure, he’s a great professor, but that doesn’t mean he’s the only good one in this bloody school!” you exclaim, frustrated failing your arms, earning a small chuckle from Harry and Luna. “I’m sorry, I’m just very frustrated that this is how my first day on the job went,” you run your fingers through your hair, shaking your head.

“No need to apologize,” Luna walks over and touches your shoulder gently. “He sounds...unpleasant...” she tries to be as cordial as possible, earning a giggle from you. “But maybe you’ll warm up to each other? It’s only the first day. We have a whole semester ahead of us,” she looks between you and Harry cheerfully. In a weird way, her light, happy tone made you feel a little better.

You sigh, “I guess so. Ugh, a whole semester with Fred Weasley...” 

The three of you start out of the classroom and start to make your way down the halls, retiring to the staff parking lot and bus stops. But before you can make your way to the public transportation, Harry suggests, “Hey, a few of us are headed to the bar to grab a drink before headed home. Do you both fancy coming?”

Luna perks up and shakes her head with an eager yes please. The idea of grabbing drinks sounded great and just what you needed after this gruesome day. But the looming thought of having to get up early and meet Fred in the classroom tomorrow at nine sharp hung over you like a storm cloud. With a sigh, you speak, “Wish I could. But Fred is making me meet him at nine to talk about lesson plans or something. Last thing I need is showing up hungover to my second day on the job.”

Harry and Luna groan in protest. “Oh, come on! You can’t let Fred rob you of your autonomy!” Luna stomps her foot and grabs your hand. “One drink won’t hurt! We’ll both have one pint and then I’ll take the bus back with you. We’re only one stop away from each other on the blue line,” she tries to convince you.

Harry starts dancing backwards to his car as he beeps it open. “I’ve got an extra seat,” he sing songs as he opens up the door for you.

A small smile creeps up on your face as you sigh. One drink couldn’t hurt. Just one cheeky little drink and then home away you would go. The night was still young, so you’d still be in bed at a reasonable hour. One drink. “You guys suck,” you laugh as you start walking to Harry’s car as Luna claps her hands in glee and Harry triumphantly punches the air, making you laugh.

-------

The morning sun creeps through your window, making you groan and roll over. The sunlight hurt your eyes and made your stomach churn as a headache pounds through your cranium, making you feel sick. “Bloody hell,” you whisper as you sit up and rub your eyes. 

You slowly start to remember the events of last night and everyone there. It was all the TAs, including some of the younger professors. You met another Weasley, Ron you think. The history professor. Absolutely nothing like Fred. He was charming and goofy in a lovable way as he sat next to his wife, Hermione, a classical literature professor, an arm draped over her shoulders. Seamus was also there along with a few other chemistry TAs as they sat at a high rise table, pointing and whispering about the business professors and TAs who sat all the way in the back, drinking scotch and making mild chatter.

“No bother meeting them,” Seamus told you as you sipped on a gin and tonic. “The business professors and TAs are all little shits. The one with the blonde hair is Draco Malfoy. He thinks he’s better than everyone because he got his PhD, but everyone knows his dad paid off the university to give him the doctorate. His TAs all kiss his ass to get in his good graces. Zabini, Nott, Goyle, all of them,” he groans before taking a long sip of his ale, making you laugh.

You had tried to tell yourself that you would only stay for one drink, but then you started yourself in conversation with the other TAs about undergrad and grad school, realizing the mutual friends you had with each other. And then, you found yourself being convinced by Ron to do a green tea shot with him as he toasted to all of the new TAs of the semester. And with that, one drink became six.

With a groan, you slump yourself up in your small studio apartment and rub your temples. As the sunlight leaked in through your white linen curtains, you check the clock. The hands pointed to 8:25am which made you gasp and rise to your feet. “Motherfucker,” you huff to yourself as you run to the bathroom. You had to meet Fred at 9 and it already took you twenty minutes to get to campus which left you with virtually no time to get ready. “Shit, shit, shit,” you turn on the shower quickly, running to your closet to grab a fresh pair of plaid pants and a jumper. “I’m so dead,” you whisper to yourself as you scramble to get ready.

You frantically rub soap all over your body with one hand and brush your teeth with the other, needing to freshen up after a long night out. The shower was cold and unpleasant as you shivered before hoping out and throwing your clothes on, opting to skip a full face of makeup and just pop on tinted moisturizer and lip balm. 

Checking the clock again, it was 8:35 and you groan in frustration. “I am a fucking moron,” you curse at yourself, grabbing your purse and notebooks and pens and papers, trying to get yourself organized before racing out the door to catch the bus. You run to your pantry to grab a granola bar as your phone starts buzzing on your nightstand. “Who the fuck is it?!” you scream as if your phone could hear you.

Stomping over, you grab it and see it was Harry calling you. “I’m kinda rushing to get out the door, Potter, make it quick, what’s up?” you babble as you slip your shoes in your Oxfords, lacing them up quickly.

Harry chuckles over the line. “I figured as much. You were a bit of a mess last night,” he tells you as you groan. “I’m only teasing you. But that being said, I’m passing your street in like two minutes, do you wanna catch a ride instead of betting on the bus?” he offers.

You sigh the biggest sigh of relief as you immediately respond. “Harry, you are a life saver,” you huff as Harry laughs. “I’ll be downstairs in a hot second. I just need to grab my coat and keys,” you tell him before hanging up.

Someone had your back today and sent Harry Potter to you. Rushing over to your coat rack, you grab your trench coat and your keys, doing a once over of your apartment, making sure you had everything, turned off all the lights and faucets. With a confident sigh, you exit your apartment, lock the door, and rush down the stairs. 

As expected, Harry sat in his car with a ginger haired woman in the passenger seat. You give him an exhausted smile as you open the back seat and slide in. “Morning,” he chimes as you shut the door and buckle your seatbelt. “How are we feeling?”

You give him a knowing look. “Fuck off,” you grumble as he laughs. “I can’t believe I let myself get carried away like that last night.” You never let yourself loose track of time like that; you felt so irresponsible. “If you didn’t call me, I would surely have my ass handed to me by Fred today.”

“Fred?” the woman in the passenger seat chimes in. “Are you the poor TA who has to deal with my brother this semester?” she asks as you sigh and nod. “Good God, I apologize on his behalf. He can be a dick sometimes. I’m Ginny by the way.”

She turns to you, offering her hand to shake as you gladly accept it. “The women and gender studies professor, right?” you ask as she proudly nods. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m (Y/N), philosophy,” you tell her with a smile. “You and Harry are engaged, if I remember correctly?”

Ginny smiles happily and flashes you her engagement ring. “Just recently, yeah,” she confirms with an admiring look to Harry as he drives down the road, a small smile on his lips. “We met when we were both TAs and have been together since,” she recounts with a smile. “Enough of that though, how are you finding Hogwarts so far? With exception of my bothersome older brother,” she reframes the question.

“So far, so good,” you tell her honestly. The staff at the university was class. Everyone was so warm and welcoming and made you feel at home instantly. “I think last night I also met your brother, Ron. He kept handing out shots to the new TAs,” you recall as the pang in your head agrees.

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s him. Ron likes to mess with the new bees every year,” she speaks. “Here, take this,” she hands you a piece of spearmint gum and a tube of mascara. “It’ll make you feel better, trust me,” she winks as you thank her. “Harry should have given you a heads up on that one,” she elbows him.

Harry shakes his head, “Ron has been my best mate since grad school, I’m not revealing his tricks to anyone no matter how good of a friend they are.” And with that, Harry pulls into the staff parking lot of Hogwarts as the time reads on the dashboard 8:55am. 5 minutes to spare.

As Harry puts the car in park, you unbuckle yourself and say, “I hate to rush out like this, but I quite literally have to dash to get to this meeting with Fred on time. Ginny, it was lovely meeting you. Harry, I owe you one. Thanks so much for the ride,” you slide out of the car as you dash towards the school.

“You can buy me a round of drinks!” he teases after you as you shake your head, dashing through the halls of Hogwarts to get to classroom 523.

You dart in between students as you run up the stairs, purse in hand, hair flowing as you make a mad dash. Finally, you reach the classroom and push the door open to reveal no one in the room. “Seriously?” you huff out of breath. You just ran here for no reason. Fred was no where to be found. But after closer inspection, there was a small sticky note on the chalkboard that read be back in ten. You huff and throw your bag down, walking around the classroom, trying to distract yourself from your throbbing headache.

The classroom is neatly decorated, plants here and there, the windows open to draw in fresh air as you inhale deeply. Then you remember from yesterday. There was a small speaker by Fred’s desk, connected to the desktop on his desk. You walk over and press the power button, making the speak bleep on with a blue flashing light. You press play and see what was on the queue. Soft jazz music starts playing, specifically Frank Sinatra’s I’ve Got You Under My Skin. You smile to yourself, how fitting. 

As the jazz music echos lightly, you allow yourself to sway gently to the music, smiling to yourself. The song reminds you of working late in the library when you were in school, listening to music to maintain your focus. You hum the melody to yourself, dancing around the classroom, looking at the bookshelves, letting your fingers trace down their backbones. You allow yourself to start softly singing the lyrics as the tempo picks up, swaying back and forth as you pluck a book from the shelf, scanning it’s contents. 

The song picks up, the brass section wailing as you dance around, reading the first few pages of a random book from Fred’s collection. You continue to sing out loud, a little off key as you smile to yourself. In this moment, you were content, regardless of how gross you felt. “’Cause I’ve got you under my skin,” you sang gently as you continued to dance back and forth, cradling the book in your arms.

But you are pulled from your day dream when a voice speaks, “You’re a fan of old blue eyes?” You let out a light squeal as you see Fred standing there, watching you with a small smirk on his mouth, holding two coffees in his hand. 

You place a hand over your heart, monitoring how it thuds against your chest from being startled. You looked at Fred and sighed. He stood there, in a light tan khakis, crispy white shirt with a maroon tie hanging from his neck. A pair of square glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as his chocolate brown eyes peered at yours through them. “Sorry you had to see that,” you chuckle. “Sinatra is one of my favorites.”

Fred chuckles, “No need to apologize. Frank is one of the greats.” He walks over to you and hands you a coffee as you tuck the book in your hands under one of your arms. “Figured you’d need one of these,” he refers to the coffee. “TAs usually have quite the night out of the first day of work,” he recalls with a small smile. Was he...being friendly? But before you could ask how he knew you went out, he answered, “Ron is my brother. I know his ways. Because he learned them from me.” You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, but I assumed a latte with an extra shot would suffice?” 

You give him a soft smile, “Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks so much. I appreciate it.” Fred nods and sits as his desk with a huff, pulling himself close to the desk. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Fred pulls his glasses off of his face and twirls them in between his fingers as you watch the glasses spin around and around. “I wanted to talk about expectations for the class and for you,” he speaks as you nod and take a sip of your warm latte that almost instantly helps with your headache. “I...I realize that we may have not gotten off to the best start yesterday...and I apologize for my behavior,” he speak as you nod.

An apology was a good start. “You’re forgiven,” you simply state.

“Thank you,” he adds before rubbing a hand over his lips. “As for the class, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. This class is a prestigious course. One of the harder ones in the department. That being said, I think it’s best for me to have the reigns on the class and lead class lectures. You are free to observe and aid in answering questions about assignments or papers,” he tells you as he leans back in his chair, thinking he made a reasonable bargain. But it was quite the opposite.

You weren’t here to sit around and listen to another philosophy professor spew a scripted lecture. You did that for four years in undergraduate school. You were here to learn how to teach a classroom, how to run a lesson plan, how to gain hands on experience. Being a puppet in the corner was not going to accomplish any of those things. “Fred, I appreciate the apology. But this offer is not acceptable,” you state calmly. “I’m your teaching assistant. I’m here to help in any way I can, of course, but I’m also here to help teach and instruct the class. You are suppose to help me learn how to teach the class.”

Fred nods, “And you can do that by matters of observation.”

His way of brushing you off made you infuriated again, just like yesterday. Did he do this to everyone? “But don’t you think it would be more helpful for me to have some actual hands on experience? Like actually teaching the class?” you tell him more than ask him.

He rises from his chair and sighs, “I don’t need you creating a new lesson plan. I’ve been using this one since I got here and it works. If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” Fred walks over to the board and writes in bold letters, Aristotle, preparing for today’s lecture. The way that he so nonchalantly stated that to you and started writing on the board as if he didn’t insult your intelligence made you infuriated.

“You’re a fucking prick,” you flat out spew. You wish you could take it back, you really did. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted what you had said to him. Insulting your superior was surefire to get you fired and released from your job, making you ineligible to graduate. But damn did it feel good to say. 

Fred turns around to look at you, eyebrows furrows as if you just spoke in a foreign language to him. “I’m a fucking prick?” he repeats, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back on the chalkboard, crossing his legs as you stand in front of him, completely enraged, fists tight next to your sides. “Wouldn’t be the first time I heard that,” he laughs, combing his fingers through his hair, as if what you said was a compliment.

“Well the people who said it before were right! You’re cocky and arrogant and self-righteous and pompous and self-absorbed. You clearly have no intention of helping anyone but yourself! That’s probably why you like being a professor! So everyone listens to every last bit you say,” you start to ramble. Now that you had said what was on your mind, it was almost impossible to stop. The words flew off your tongue like a jet. 

Boldly, Fred pushes himself off the chalkboard, hands dug into his pant’s pockets as he walks closer to you. A small smirk dances along his lips as his tongue darts out and drags across his lower lip. The action makes your breath hitch in your throat as you mentally curse yourself, wanting to be annoyed with him, but yet you found yourself aroused. “Keep going,” he urges. “Go on. Tell me how unbearable I am. You’ve only known me twenty four hours, but it seems like you have me all figured out,” he speaks, just a foot away from your body.

Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, your lips slightly parted as you take heaving breaths, making your chest rise and fall quickly. Fred’s eyes scan your face, soaking in your annoyed and confused expression. You suddenly become very aware of how close he is to you and you shake your head, taking a step back. “I only need a day to know an asshole when I see one,” you simply state, folding your arms over your chest. Your expression reads as if it were Fred’s turn to take a dig at you.

Fred chuckles lowly before speaking, “Here’s your problem, darling.” The endearing terms makes your stomach curdle. “You don’t get the hands on experience your second day on the job. You’ve gotta prove to me that you can run a class and keep their attention for three hours. You think it’s easy keeping the attention of a bunch of twenty year olds when you’re talking about philosophy? It’s not as easy as you may think it is,” Fred explain as you roll your eyes. “I was in your shoes once before, so I know what you’re experiencing.”

You laugh, “Oh, don’t pull that card. You’re a professor now. You did your time in my shoes. Don’t pretend like you’d give anything to go back.”

“Oh, honey, you couldn’t pay me enough to go back!” Fred retorts, now with an edge. “You know what. I could let you run today’s class,” he chuckles at the thought. “I could let you run it and watch you crash and fucking burn,” he emphasizes with a shrug. “I could watch those students trample all over you, you know why?” he asks looking at you intently as you gulp. “Because they don’t respect you! They don’t know who you are. In fact, they see you as one of them! If I mistook you as one of them on the first day, then what made you think they wouldn’t?” he asks as you inhale deeply. “Respect is earned when you are in a position of authority. Even if you’re just a professor. And you, (Y/N), haven’t earned that yet from the students. And I honestly don’t know if you have it from me.”

And with that last dig, the first student enters the classroom signaling that the first lecture of the day was ready to begin. Fred and you don’t acknowledge the student, just staring at each other. Fred’s words stung. Like a fresh wound, you were bleeding out. His words were sad, but true. You were a TA, but you were still a grad student. Fred worked to get to the position he was at. You just needed to prove to him that you were capable of handling yourself in a classroom setting as a teaching assistant.

You retreat back to your desk at the front of the room and sit down with a small huff, pulling out the attendance sheet, marking students as present as they enter the classroom.

Fred rubbed his hands over his face, feeling guilty for his out burst. He knew you were brilliant. To be quite honest, Fred knew he was going to get a TA. He had checked out your academic profile, seeing that you graduated undergrad with a nearly perfect grade point average and extra circulars that were sure to blow any one away. Your thesis statement made Fred laugh to himself, it was similar to his own when he was in university; the effect of utilitarianism on free will in our post-modern society. In a weird way, you reminded Fred of himself. Confident, smart, and ballsy. But where you differentiated with Fred is your adaptability. How you could adjust and go with the flow, that was Fred’s downfall.

Soon the classroom was full of students again and Fred took a deep breath, trying to regain his focus and composure to teach the class. He didn’t dare look at you, it would just make him upset. And you didn’t want to look at him. Fred sat on his desk, his long legs almost hitting the floor even when he sat. “Hello everyone,” he addressed the class, some students chiming back. “Let’s get started for the day. Shall we?” he claps his hands together. “Who can talk to me about eudaemonia?” he asks the class.

You looked out at the classroom along with Fred, anticipating a slew of hands but instead you got nothing. Students sat in their chairs in silence, some twiddling their pens, others scribbling in a notebook, some still groggy this during the ten o’clock lecture. “Someone’s gotta know about it. Come on then,” Fred probes the class as they remain silence, only sound is some kid yawning in the back. Fred allows the class to remain silent for a moment. “Alright,” he huffs. “Rough morning for a lot of us,” he speaks, hoping to catch your attention with that line, but you scribble nonsense into the margins of your notebook. “Maybe (Y/N) could give us a definition?” he suggests.

Your head shoots up like a rocket from your paper as you look at Fred with panic in your eyes. He looks at you with a small smile and encouragement, almost as if this were his way of making amends. A twisted way. You look towards the class and see twenty sets of eyes on you as you gulp before shaking away your nerves. “Um, yeah,” you clear your throat. “Eudaemonia is the greatest good, the aim for all human thinking and rational. Another word for eudaemonia is happiness,” you simply state, making the students start scribbling in their notebooks. Pride swells in your chest as you realize what you was valuable to the students. “Eudaemonia is achieve through action in tandem with the human soul and psyche. When eudaemonia is at its highest form, it is known as virtue,” you explain further as the class continues to scribble down what you were saying.

Slowly, you look towards Fred who gives you a small smile and a nod as you just give him a curt nod and turn back to your desk. But when you look away, it’s hard to cover up the small smile on your lips as you fiddle with the pen in your hands. Fred notices your grin as smiles to himself before speaking, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Maybe today would be better than yesterday.

--------

Another two weeks had gone by and the work relationship you had with Fred improved significantly. He let you interject at certain points in his lectures, let you pose questions to the class, and even assigned you students for office hours. Finally, you started to feel like you were doing what you came here for and you were loving every moment of it.

Fred was a great professor and an even better mentor. He commanded a classroom unlike any other professor you have ever seen. He spoke with confidence and coolness and the students ate him up. It must be rewarding for him, watching students love his work as much as he did. You would watch him with a small smile as you jotted down notes here and there. Fred would catch your eye every now and then in class and gave you a small smile or cheeky wink that made your heart stop every now and then as you turned away from him, biting the inside of your cheek to make you stop smiling. 

“Remember to finish Kant’s Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals for tomorrow’s class! If you haven’t turned in your paper on Nicomachean Ethics yet, do it by 4pm or else I will personally send (Y/N) to find you and hunt you down,” he teases the class as you roll your eyes, making the class laugh. “Happy Friday. Now scram,” Fred dismisses class as students file out.

When the majority of them have dispersed, you walk over to Fred’s desk and huff, “Good lecture today. Katie brought up some good questions about the differences between hypothetical imperatives and categorical imperatives.” Fred leans back in his desk chair, flopping his notebook down on his desk.

“Yeah, she did. But god, I wanted to punch Brian in the face. He kept talking over her while she was saying something poignant. I get it, Brian, there are different formulations, but damn, shut the fuck up,” Fred groans, making you laugh as you grab your bag and get ready to pack up for the day. “So, I hate to be the bearer of bad news...” he trails off as he rises from his seat.

You groan and throw your head back as you spin on your heels to face him. “Please, don’t tell me...” you start as Fred nods his head sadly. “Come on, Fred. It’s Friday night! Beginning of the weekend! All of the TAs are getting drinks at the pub tonight and quite honestly, I’d rather be doing that than grading philosophy papers,” you whine to him.

Fred mockingly places and hand over his heart and speaks, “First off, I am offended that you don’t want to spend time with me grading papers on the brilliance of Aristotle through a twenty year olds eyes.” The comment makes you chuckle, but he pushes on, “But I want to grade this papers tonight and finish them tonight so I, well we, can have the weekend free. You can get drinks any other night with the TAs. But we’ve got to do this tonight.”

You stomp your foot in frustration like a toddler, making Fred chuckle as he places his glasses on his face. “But tonight it’s dollar drafts! Dollar drafts happen once a week!” you beg him. “Why can’t we grade tomorrow?”

“Because I need to put these grades into my grade book before the students start wondering if they’ll ever be graded for something in this class,” he explains. “How about this?” he proposes. “We meet back here at 4:30pm. I’ll get take out for the both of us and we can drink coffee and energy drinks like we’re back in undergrad cramming for an exam. It’ll be fun,” he shimmies his shoulder making you giggle. 

With a huff, you say, “Fine. But if we’re here past midnight, I’ll never forgive you.” 

You start out of the classroom as Fred calls after you, “It’ll be fun!”

Shaking your head down, you start down the hall and see Harry and Luna talking as they leave their respective classrooms. “Heyo,” Harry calls out to you before slinging an arm around your shoulder. “So, for dollar drafts tonight we were just gonna take a cab there at around 5:00. Ron is going to be late because he’s going to wait for Hermione to get out of her night class and they’ll come together. But Seamus, Luna, Cho, and I will all be there and I think Dean said he’s coming and bringing some friends from grad school. It should be a great time,” Harry explains with a big grin.

Your ‘fomo’ was kicking in hard core as you sigh and speak, “About that...I can’t make it tonight.” Luna gives you a sad look as Harry groans and throws his head back. “Fred and I need to grade papers tonight to make the first quarter grades. If I get out early though, I’ll call and see if you guys are still there,” you offer as Harry slumps over. 

“At least it sounds like things are going better with you and Fred,” Luna tells you and you nod with a smile. “Are you learning from him?”

“Absolutely,” you tell her. “Fred is actually a great professor and the class adores him. I’ve been enjoying it a lot recently.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows, “Yeah, I’m sure you have.”

You slap Harry’s shoulder at his cheeky suggestion that something was going on. “Oh, quit it, Harry,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fred and I have a strictly working relationship. He and I are co-workers and are professional. All of my relationships are here. That’s more that some people can say,” you tease him about his engagement to Ginny as he rolls his eyes and mimics you. “Besides, there is nothing romantic or sexy about grading papers about ethics. In fact, it’s the opposite thing.”

Harry laughs, “You never know. Maybe you two will get so caught up in talking about morals that you just start to...” he mimics the sounds of sloppy snogging and moaning as you slap his arm again, Luna giggling. “Okay, okay, I’m just teasing you! But if you can meet us at the pub, give one of us a call and we can hail you a cab,” he tells you as you hug Luna goodbye and then Harry.

“Will do. Have a drink for me. Lord knows I’ll need one,” you huff, watching them walk off to catch up to Dean and Seamus. 

Instead of getting drunk at a bar after a long week of work, you would be grading papers all night with Fred. Which honestly, maybe, didn’t sound so awful.

A few hours past and you and Fred were at on opposite sides of his desk, empty Chinese take out boxes scattered around you along with empty coffee cups and cans of energy drinks. It was ten o’clock at night and you had hardly made a dent in the papers. You throw your head on the desk with a thud, making Fred chuckle. “This is hell,” you groan. “Do they even proof read their sentences?” you ask Fred who shakes his head. “Seriously. Some of these papers are just bad. Weak thesis and an even weaker argument,” you slap the paper in front of you.

Fred scribbles in red ink on one paper and circle the letter grade on it before shifting it to the done pile. “Honestly, if it’s horrid and you struggle to make it past the third page, just skip to the end, read the conclusion and if it reads fine, give them a C minus. If they have a problem, they can come to office hours and talk about it with me,” he tells you as you laugh. “I’ve done that with two of them already.”

You place a C minus in red ink at the end of the paper and shift yours into the done pile. “How many more do we have left? We’ve been here for nearly six hours,” you tell him.

Fred examines the pile and huffs, “About four more. So two more each and then we’ll be done. The papers are ten pages long, so only twenty more pages of absolute garbage to read before we are done.”

Eh, that wasn’t so bad. You sigh and examine the room around you. Your eyes land on Fred whose eyes scan over the page as he nibbles away at his lower lip, glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose, red pen tucked behind his ear. He made markings on the paper here and there, adding comments as he sees fit. He’d mumble a bloody hell here and there if something was really bad, making you giggle. He’d catch your eye and a proud smile would form on his lips when he saw that he’d made you giggle.

After another hour and a half of grading, you were finally finished with the thick stack of papers on Fred’s desk. The two of you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back in your chairs. “Freedom!” Fred cried out as you laughed, running your fingers through your hair. “And before midnight!” he points to his watch, the hands pointing to 11:37pm. “I think I know what this calls for,” he speaks wiggling his brows as you watch him stand up and pulls out a drawer to reveal a small handle of whiskey. 

You laugh and shake your head. “Ohhhh, no,” you laugh and wave your hands. 

“Really, (Y/N)? Eight hours of grading papers and you don’t want one drink?” he pours one glass, waiting to pour yours.

You think for a moment. You were supposed to call Harry and Luna and tell them that you would meet them at the bar. But quite honestly, you didn’t feel like leaving the classroom and the pleasant company of Fred. Maybe some one on one time could strengthen your relationship...as co-workers, of course.

In defeat, you sigh, “Fine.” 

Fred smiles and pours you a nice, hefty glass of the brown liquor before handing it to you and sitting in his chair. “To a job well done,” he toasts as you clink your glasses together, sipping from the glass. The whiskey is smooth and warms your chest up delightfully as you relax further into the chair. The two of you rest in comfortable silence before Fred starts, “So...after you’ve finished your job here, where do you hope to go?” 

You think for a moment and lean on your elbows on his desk, letting your hair flop forward. “Not too sure really,” you admit. “I know I want to teach at a university level, but it’s just a matter of where positions are available. Maybe I’ll go back to Oxford and see if there’s any availability in their department,” you toss around as Fred boos you, knowing the rivalry between Cambridge and Oxford is still fierce. “But I’m trying to go with the flow and see where the demand is.”

Fred nods his head and huffs, “Well...what if I told you that there is going to be an opening in position here at Hogwarts for next fall?” You give him a confused look as you sip from your whiskey. He says, “Professor McGonagall? She’s been here for ages and she’s retiring after nearly sixty years of teaching.” You widen your eyes and nod your head. Impressive. “The department is looking to hire a new, fresh face and I think you might be right for the job...” he takes a sneaky sip from his glass.

“It’s a really kind offer, Fred, really thoughtful of you,” you tell him. “But I want to know that where I apply for a job I’ve earned it. I didn’t get the job because someone pulled the strings behind the scenes,” you tell him. This was true. Anyone would kill for a job at Hogwarts University, but you wanted to know that you earned your title here and not because a friend handed it to you. 

He leans forward and speaks, “This wouldn’t be me pulling any strings. (Y/N), you are a brilliant person and the students adore you. Just last week four students asked for your contact information to reach out about private tutoring. Neville loves you and the department sees the work that you’ve been doing and is throughly impressed. You’ve earned this position and the respect that comes along with it,” he tells you, honestly shining in his eyes, making you melt in your chair at his gaze. You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, sipping from your glass. The sight makes Fred’s heart skip a beat. 

“Are you saying I’ve earned your respect?” you ask him with a teasing smile as he chuckles.

“Yes. You earned it awhile ago. You’re an incredible woman,” he tells you as you smile, looking down at the glass in your hands, too meek to meet Fred’s gaze now. 

It’s quiet for a moment before Fred clears his throat and stands up, turning on the speaker as Frank Sinatra softly starts playing again as you laugh to yourself. It Happened In Monterey starts to echo in the classroom as you smile at Fred. “One of my favorites,” you tell him.

Fred nods, “One of his best hits,” he says as if it were a fact. “Give me your top three. Go.”

You think for a moment before speaking, “It Happened In Monterey, The Way You Look Tonight, and Girl From Ipanema. I think those are his best.”

Fred smiles, “Agreed. His version of The Way You Look Tonight I prefer much over Tony Bennett’s.”

“Oh, easily! Don’t get me wrong, Tony Bennett has some great hits, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Frankie,” you tell Fred, making him chuckle. The two of you chat about music for a little while longer before Come Fly With Me comes on and Fred claps his hands. “My mom loves this song,” you smile, fondly remembering her singing in the kitchen to this song.

Fred rises to his feet and immediately grabs your hands and brings you to his feet. He places your drinks down on the desk as he spins you around, making you laugh. “You can’t not dance to this song,” he tells you, placing his hand on your waist, the other holding your other hand in his larger one. The contact makes your heart flutter in your chest as you giggle as he spins you around again, this time into his chest. 

Your back is pressed against him as he sway with you in his arms before spin you back out, dancing around and around the classroom, the two of you laughing messes as you dance to Frank Sinatra, still in your work clothes from this morning. As you dance, you steal glances of Fred. How his hair was messy from running his fingers through it, his tie loose around his neck, impressions of his glasses in the bridge of his nose. He was so effortlessly handsome and it made your stomach sway at the sight of him. How he could be so handsome without even realizing it. Without even realizing how he made you feel. All warm and fuzzy inside, giggling like a child as he spun you around in his arms, making this moment feel like something out of a movie. 

The song slowly fades away before Autumn in New York starts play, changing the tone of the room. You two catch your breaths before looking at each other in the eyes, Fred’s hands on your waist as your hands rest on his chest. The two of you look at each other, and slowly start to sway as the orchestra of the song starts to swell. Frank’s clear voice echos in the empty classroom as you slowly wrap your arms around Fred’s neck, him pulling you close to his body as you start to slow dance in the middle of the classroom, neither of you registering what is happening. You two were purely acting on instinct. But god, it felt so right.

The two of you dance gently to the music as Fred’s hands rest on your lower back, his thumbs tracing small circles into your jumper as you lace your fingers around his neck. No words are spoken. You just listen to the music and stare at the other, taking each other in during the dance. How could something that started off so innocent turn so beautiful? 

Your mind was reeling, watching Fred look at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You wanted to tell him everything that’s ever happened to you in this moment. Everything that you’ve gone through that brought you to this moment. Something about Fred made you feel safe. Something you hadn’t felt in years. 

As the music starts to come to a close, you can feel Fred lean down gently and press his forehead to yours as you inhale a shaky breath. So desperately you wished to close the gap between you two, pushing your lips together, giving into him. But before anything can happen, the horns blare over the speaker, Brazil blasting over the speakers, making the two of you jump, startled at the change in pace. 

You place a hand over your heart as Fred races over to the speaker to lower the volume. “That scared the living hell out of me,” you breathe out as Fred laughs and nods. The two of you stand there, wondering what to say, knowing that you were both thinking the same thing. But no one says anything. “Um,” you clear your throat. “It’s quite late. I should probably get going...” you trail off as you walk over to grab your purse and notebooks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he tells you with a nod, cleaning up the mess of take away boxes on his desk. “You need me to call you a cab?” he asks.

“No, no, it’s fine, I got it,” you tell him with a smile as he nods, throwing out the garbage and sorting away miscellaneous papers. “Um, I, um...”

“I had fun with you,” Fred finishes your sentence for you as you exhale and smile gently with a nod. “I’ll see you on Monday then?”

You nod your head, “Absolutely, yeah.” He grins and digs his hands into his pockets.

You start to make your way towards the door, but Fred stops you and says, “Hey, (Y/N)? On Monday, I’d like you to run the lecture. For both classes.” Your eyes widen as you look at him in disbelief. You try to protest, but Fred speaks, “I think that the class would benefit from your perspective. And your sheer brilliance.” 

A small smile forms on your lips as you let out a breathy laugh. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. For sure,” you tell him with a nod as Fred smiles. “Thank you, Fred. This is...wow. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “You’ve earned it. You’ve earned it all. Now, get going and get a goodnight’s rest. That you surely deserve.”

And with one small wave, you exit the classroom and start down the hall, feeling like you were on cloud nine. Nothing felt as good as this.

------

Monday rolls around as quickly as Friday left and you enter campus with a pep in your step. Today you were teaching the class and you were beyond prepared. You had your lesson plan in your bag, a coffee in your hand, and your favorite jumper on. You felt invincible. 

As you walked into the staff lounge, Harry sat with Seamus, sipping on coffees and munching on provided breakfast. “Morning, you lot,” you chime merrily as you place your bag on the table and walk towards the breakfast tray and grab a crossiant.

“You’re too cheery for a Monday morning,” Seamus says with a look on his face. “What’s got you so bright eyes and bushy tailed?”

You smile to yourself as you walk back to the table, tearing open the croissant to slab some jam on it. “Fred is letting me run lecture today,” you reply happily.

Seamus looks over to Harry with wide eyes, the two of them in complete shock. “Wow,” Seamus says. “That’s...incredible. Good on you, (Y/N),” he tells you as you thank him with a smile. “I didn’t know Fred let his TA run a class. The most he let Dean do was take roll,” he told Harry.

Harry took a sip from his coffee and wiggled his brows, “I didn’t think so either. I guess our very own (Y/N) has made him have a change of heart.”

You roll your eyes and speak, “I earned this, Harry. I’ve been working my ass off and after a long night of grading papers, Fred offered me the opportunity which I gladly took.” Harry nods his head with a mhm as you throw as piece of croissant at him. “I’m serious!”

“I’m not saying you don’t deserve it, (Y/N)! You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met; you deserve this like humans needs to breathe!” Harry exclaims. “I’m just...shocked that Fred let you make a lesson plan, nevertheless teach a whole class,” he speaks as you shrug. “Guess you bring out the best in Fred Weasley.”

You smile, “Is that such a bad thing?” Harry chuckles as Seamus shakes his head with a huff. “Well, if you excuse me, I have to get ready for my lecture,” you joke as Harry rolls his eyes.

“Don’t let this thing get to your head!” he calls after you as you flip him the bird, making Seamus laugh.

As you walk to 523, your heart patter against your chest with excitement, but also lots of nerves. What if they preferred Fred over you? What if Fred was more engaging with them? What if someone fell asleep? What if someone asked you a question you couldn’t answer?

Soon your confidence began to waver as you entered the classroom, Fred clearing the chalkboard, getting the room ready for you. “There she is. Professor for the day,” Fred claps his hands. “You excited?” he asks. But you don’t answer him. You nervously place your purse on the desk and start gnawing at your nails. This makes Fred worried as he walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders. “You alright?” he asks, concern washing over his face.

You relax into his touch as you sigh, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just...nervous.” Fred gives you a sympathetic smile. “What if they like you better than me? What if I say something stupid and they all laugh at me? What if I forget everything? I mean, how much do I really know about Mill? Probably nothing,” you ramble.

Fred laughs and gives you arms a squeeze, forcing your eyes up to him. “Hey, look at me,” he speaks as you huff and look into his comforting gaze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You are brilliant and the students love you. You’re gonna get up there and smash it. I know it,” he tells you with a confident smile, making your heart flutter and your stomach flip. “I was nervous for my first lecture too, but once you start, the adrenaline gets pumping and you feel on top of the world.”

You give him a shaky nod, “Yeah. Okay. I can do this, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” he laughs. “You’re more than capable,” he reassures you. “I believe in you. I always have,” he speaks, tilting your chin up with his fore finger as you gulp thickly. Fred’s eyes dart to your lips back up to your eyes as he smiles softly. “You’ll be brilliant.”

“Thank you,” you speak just above a whisper as Fred nods.

Slowly, he pulls away from you and sits at his desk which prompts the first student to enter the classroom as you gather your notebook and a piece of chalk, writing on the board in bold letters, Mill and Utilitarianism. You wipe your hands on your pants and look over to Fred who gives you a thumbs up.

Soon enough, the classroom fills up with students as you try to keep yourself calm and not let the class see your nerves. “Happy Monday, everyone,” Fred speaks from his desk. “I hope you all had a great weekend. Your papers on Aristotle have been graded and the grades are posted online. Some of you did great, some of you did shit. If you have any complaints, you can see me or (Y/N) after class to discuss,” he speaks, earning a few laughs from the class. Fred speaks, “Brian, I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. (Y/N) couldn’t make it past page three of yours before handing it off to me.” This earns a loud roar of laughter from the class which eased your nerves. God, Fred knew exactly what you needed. “Speaking of (Y/N), she will be running lecture today. I’ll be playing the role of TA and you’ll give her the same amount of respect like you give me. Understood?” The class nods. “Brilliant. (Y/N), you have the floor.”

You smile at him, “Thank you, Fred, for the introduction.” Fred nods. You turn to the class. “Alright. Let’s talk about Mill’s Utilitarianism. After reading it, what are our thoughts? How do we feel about Mill in comparison to Kant or Aristotle?” you ask generally trying to ease into the lecture.

The class is motionless for a moment before Jessica raises her hand and you nod. “I found it interesting how he acknowledges the objections in his work,” she tells you as you nod. “Not many philosopher’s explicitly do that in their works.”

“Great,” you smile at her. “Let’s take a look at that. Everyone open up your copies and turn to page seven. Mill writes, ‘Life has no higher purpose than pleasure? What are we, swine?’ What do you think this means?” you ask the class. The stare blankly at you as you inhale deeply, this being a fear of yours. But before you can allow yourself to freak out, you think about what Fred would do. You repeat the quote again and add this time, “Are we swines? I mean, I don’t know about Brian, but I know that I’m not a swine.”

This causes the class to erupt with laughter, Fred included, and Brian blushes a deep shade of red before he raises his hand to answer the question. Ah, victory. 

The class continues on and the discussion was incredible with both classes you taught. The students had such provoking conversations with fruitful discussions on the topic. It made your heart swell that they were so good for you and you felt like you were in your element the whole time.

Fred couldn’t help but smile to himself as he watched you give the lecture, bouncing off points, connecting ideas, and posing new questions that he couldn’t even think of. You were electric and the students were infatuated with you, even more so than they were with him. He couldn’t help but feel proud of you. He loved watching you smile and laugh as you talked to the students. 

“Okay, well unfortunately we are at time, but next week bring in your annotated books along with your first drafts of your papers!” you tell the class as they thank you as they leave the class one by one. 

After each student has left the classroom and the door shuts, you turn to Fred who springs from his chair and runs over to you, scooping you up in a hug and spinning you around as you laugh. “Sheer brilliance,” he places you down with a beaming smile. “I’ve never seen students so excited to talk about moral philosophy,” he shakes his head as you grin widely, holding your hands behind your back. “That was great, (Y/N).”

“I feel great,” you tell him with a smile. “Seriously. It blows my mind how smart they are sometimes. Bloody Brian had such great talking points today!” you beam as Fred laughs. “But really, I learned everything that I did today from you. You are the great teacher,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Fred rolls his eyes, “Oh, don’t give me all the credit. I mean...give me some, but not all.” You laugh and shake your head. “Kidding, kidding,” he tells you as you smile at him, taking in the way his face looked as the sun started to set behind him, signaling the end of your day. “Um, I’ll walk with you to the lot?”

You nod your head as the two of you pack your things and make your way to the parking lot with Fred, the both of you making light chatter about the class discussions and how thought provoking they all were. As you walk in the halls, you pass Harry who calls out, “I’m guessing it went well!”

“Shut it, Potter!” you call back as Fred chuckles. 

Soon enough, you reach the staff parking lot and Fred digs around in his pockets for the key to his car. “Well,” Fred huffs. “You did a great job today, (Y/N). I would say I’m impressed, but I knew you would do brilliantly.”

You beam, “Thank you, Fred. Really. I know how much this class means to you and I thank you for trusting me with it.”

He smiles and leans against the hood of his black Audi, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows before leaning on his hands. “It’s my pleasure. I know how much teaching a class meant to you and I’m happy I could help,” he tells you as you nod. 

The two of you stand there, watching each other as the sun sets behind the castle. Fred’s eyes glossed over your body and how pants hugged your curves and how the jumper clung onto your figure. He took a deep breath in before smiling to himself as you gulped and cleared your throat, trying to diffuse some of the tension between the two of you. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Professor,” you tease Fred as he chuckles. 

You start to walk away and towards the bus stop, but Fred’s voice stops you. “(Y/N)?” he speaks as you turn back to him, walking back to him. “I’ve got a quick question for you.”

“What’s up?”

“So, Mill said ‘There's no time for all this calculating when we're faced with an actual moral decision.’ And I’m afraid that I have a moral decision of my own,” he speaks with a smirk as you heart races at the sight of the smile you’ve grown so fond of over the past few weeks.

You smile at your feet before looking up at him. “And what would that moral decision be, Professor Weasley?” you tease him as he chuckles.

“That night, we spent grading papers,” he starts as you tuck your hands into your back pockets. “I wanted to kiss you.” His confession makes your heart race as face heat up. “And ever since then, I’ve been trying to find a moment where I can finally suck it up and kiss you,” he smirks. “So, what I guess what I’m trying to say is, is it alright if I kiss my teaching assistant in the parking lot of this bloody school?”

You lightly laugh and speak, taking a step closer to him as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you place your hands on his chest, “Well, if we are talking about this in the terms of Mill, would kissing your teaching assistant bring you pleasure?”

Fred smiles, “Without a doubt.”

“Then I think you’re morally obligated to,” you tell him as he chuckles.

He hesitates no longer and dips his head down to connect your lips together as you inhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips are soft, but passionate against you as they gently move against yours. His hands squeeze your hips gently as you press yourself against his body, making Fred lightly moan into your mouth. His tongue slips past your parted lips, caressing his tongue with yours as you let out a soft moan, making Fred inhale deeply. Your heart is pounding against your chest as you gently pull at the roots of his hair, relishing in the way his lips feel against yours. His mouth moves slowly and lazily against yours, making your head spin and desire grow. It’s everything you imagined it would be as cliche as it sounded. 

Gently, you pull away as Fred smiles lightly. “Thank you, John Stuart Mill,” he breathes out, making you laugh. “I’ve been dying to do that.”

“I’m glad you did,” you confess to him, arms still wrapped around him as Fred squeezes your hips, placing another soft kiss to your lips. “Now that you’ve accomplish that moral dilemma, do you have any idea what your next one is?” you tease him, wiggling your brows.

Fred shakes his head, “Oh, we’ve got the rest of the semester to figure that one out.”

[therenlover]

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

[sturchling]

Salt-Fic September Day 20: Enemies

Damian was a very protective person when it comes to his friends. That included Marinette. They had met when he visited Paris with his father for a business proposal. They stopped at the bakery and the rest just fell into place. They had been close ever since. They even began dating using video chat every night. 

It was on one of these video chats that Damian learned about what was happening in her class. How the liar was trying to turn everyone against Marinette. But worse was how the class was treating her. They actually sided with the liar and was treating Marinette like she is a bully. 

Damian was furious and wanted to teach the class a lesson. But Marinette told him no. She still had hope that the class would realize Lila was a liar. But soon Damian wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

Marinette signed into the video chat, but hadn’t turned on her camera. She was very hesitant, but Damian convinced her to turn it on. Then he saw why she didn’t want to.

She had a black eye and a split lip. He could also see another bruise poking out of the collar of her shirt. Damian was enraged upon seeing the condition of his angel. After much convincing, Marinette finally tells him what happened.

Lila had told the class that Marinette had attacked her the night before and had fake bruises painted on her arms and face. The class was shocked and in that state, it was easy for the liar to convince the class to take revenge on Marinette. Marinette didn’t see who in the class did it, but someone had thrown a book at Marinette and hit her in the eye. The force of the hit had knocked Marinette back and she fell down the stairs. No one had helped her up when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

What Damian couldn’t see was the bruises and scrapes covering Marinette’s arms and legs from the fall. But the few bruises on the face and neck that he could see was enough for Damian. The class was now his enemies. And that was not a good thing for the class.

The class was graduating soon and were now applying to colleges, internships, and jobs. But they were finding it difficult. They couldn’t get any interviews, and were sometimes even refused an application once the college or business learned their names. They didn’t understand what was happening.

What they didn’t know is that Damian had been working hard for the years since the staircase incident to make things difficult. He used his connections to make sure almost everyone the class might apply to knew who they were. But his crown jewel is his plan for Alya. It had been discovered that she was the one that threw the book and made Marinette fall. So she was going to get the brunt of his wrath. 

Alya couldn’t believe it. She had finally got an interview! She was the first in the class to get one. She got an interview with Lois Lane at the Daily Planet! This was her dream job! It was going to be over video chat and she had been asked to bring examples of her previous work. Alya had her best blog articles printed, the interview with Lila about Jagged Stone and his kitten. She felt that she was the perfect candidate. She showed Lois the article and waited for her response. But she didn’t get the response she expected.

“This is horrible work. The writing itself is fine, but you didn’t fact check anything. You only have one source, who is unreliable at best. This is not Daily Planet worthy and neither are you, I’m afraid, Miss Cesaire.” Alya was shocked. “What do you mean. It is a first person source. Lila is the girl in the story! This is properly sourced.” Lois rolled her eyes, Damian was right about this girl. “Yes but she is obviously a liar. Jagged Stone is well known for having a crocodile and only a crocodile for the last 20 years. He hasn’t had a kitten. We are done here. Have a good day.” Then Lois disconnected the call.

Alya tried to prove Lois wrong and Lila was right, but she didn’t find anything. The truth came out that night. The class all realized the truth about Lila and tried to apologize to Marinette, only to find she was gone. Her parents told them that Marinette had left to Gotham that morning. Damian watched from Gotham as the class failed to reach all their goals with glee. They shouldn’t have turned on their close friend. They shouldn’t have attacked Marinette. And they shouldn’t have made themselves Damian’s enemies. 

Hope you guys liked it! @maribat-central-official

[peachiimilquetea]

i’m back!

hi everyone!! hiatus is officially over!!

so a few new housekeeping notes!

i changed my name!

i mostly did this in accordance with my side blog (which i’ll be talking about more in a little bit) but i also hated the name for a while and i think this suits me just a little bit more! all my links have already been changed so if anything on my masterlist is broken/leads to nowhere please let me know!!

i also changed my tags! so anyone who has my old nsfw tag blocked might want to update that, altho it might not be an issue later on down the line, as you can see by my next heading

i’m highly considering stopping making nsfw content

i think this is the biggest change that might be coming to this blog tbh. i’ve been thinking about it A LOT and the discourse is super conflicting on what is right and what’s not right

as much as i love to write smut, and nobody has directly come after me for writing smut, i keep seeing opinions and takes that are starting to make me want to quit it altogether. like apparently as a minor there are legal implications for me writing smut? which??? idk how true that is but it’s enough to make me more wary

the discourse around aging people up is also conflicting and confusing and the last thing i want to do it be on the wrong side of how to interact and behave in fandom spaces, especially being so new

furthermore, people don’t really go feral on my blog? like people don’t interact with my nsfw content all that often so i feel like it’s just there idk. maybe i’ll split the content into two blogs, maybe i’ll just private all of it and become purely sfw, idk im still thinking about it but i’ll let you know when i come to that decision

i will not be as active as i previously was

i hate to be so frank but the tumblr writing community is dying. nobody gets the interaction or hype that they deserve and it’s a huge blow to a writer’s morale to write something and barely get recognition

it’s not selfish for writers to feel this way and for this reason i won’t be posting as often or as regularly as i did previously. when i finish all requests and i open them up again, you probably won’t be getting it as quickly as you’ve seen in the past.

school is also starting up for me and it’s a very important one (senior szn or whatever) so i’m gonna be super busy with college stuff and AP classes and all the fun stuff that comes with being on the verge of adulthood

requests are actively being finished

this isn’t really a new thing, but i know there are at least two event requests that are in progress rn and one request for an orginal piece i wrote at the very beginning of my blog

i’ll tentatively open my requests up again really soon (probably with slots tbh) and we can move from there

i promise they’ll be done (one is already fully finished and formatted in my drafts), ive just been burnt out and really not feeling writing (hence the hiatus)

i’m making a sideblog!

yayyyy smth a little bit more lighthearted! i made a side blog! its callled @peachiimilquecoffee (see what i did there) and it’ll be a little bit more laid back, more behind the scenes, and maybe i’ll post more WIPs and sneak peeks there as well as the stuff that interests me so i don’t clog up your dash with random pointless stuff

i’m also probably gonna talk more about my original content, and post about my other interests. if you’re into that kinda thing just check my navi and it’ll be up sometime soon! i just finished setting up camp and getting my tags situated there and whatnot so come hang out!

closing

when i started this blog, i didn’t think i would get this far or even meet so many other people that i enjoy interacting with and seeing! i do want to stay here for as long as the site will let me, and as long as i feel welcome.

like i said previously, the writing community on tumblr feels like it’s dying, and it’s hard to make fan content unless you have a shit ton of followers that interact with you every day (and honestly some big blogs are struggling with a lack of boundaries as well).

all this to say, it often feels like there’s no winning. this is a tentative comeback, and i really hope something will change soon and making writing as fun as it was in the beginning for me. the hiatus was good for me to reset and be more inclined to get back in the groove.

thank you sm for your follows and your support! i really appreciate every single one of you and im looking forward to writing more stuff!

[the-last-carnival]

Graduation

July 9, 2021

At about 1:50 am my time, I learned that Kiryu Coco would be "graduating" from Hololive, which for those peering in from the world beyond the Vtuber hole, means that she is quitting streaming and cutting ties with the company as a result of a massive targeted harassment campaign. Yes, this happens often enough that we have a word for it. She's not the first to be bullied out of Hololive and she almost certainly won't be the last. She said herself in her announcement stream that her future is bright, so I'll take her word for it and focus, as I always seem to, on how I'm feeling. It's my blog and I'm gonna use it how I want.

A couple days ago, my boyfriend of three years told me that the best thing for both of us would be to stop dating and for me to move back in with my parents. We were engaged. When we met, we were both in high school, and we didn't know how to have a romantic relationship without hurting ourselves and our partners very badly, very quickly. Neither of us had high hopes once we started dating officially but, miraculously, it worked. We were and are very different people but we found an equilibrium and created a space to grow, to improve, to do right by one another. Then we moved in together, and then the coronavirus happened and then world we knew vanished. It happened that quickly. The joke I like to tell people is that my body is still waiting for Saint Patrick's Day 2020, but the further we get from that day the more I think that maybe it's not a joke. My childhood ended on Monday, March 16, 2020. I can remember clearly getting the email from work announcing that business operations would cease for the foreseeable future, followed by urgent instructions on how to sign up for unemployment. I shut my laptop and let out a long breath before saying to no one, "This is the real deal."

My boyfriend's lease was up in April. I wasn't on the lease or paying any rent, but I lived with him, so it was only fair that we make it official at the new place. The new place turned out to be a dump but it was close to a gas station and a Whataburger so it was tolerable. I was making more money than I'd ever made before, and it was for doing absolutely nothing. I had chores, and even did them on occasion, but the majority of my time was spent smoking weed, ordering food, and my New Quarantine Hobby: watching Hololive streams and clips (I did not make bread even once during the quarantine). I would absorb as much news about the BLM protests and the spread of the virus as I could take, often more, and then when the True Panic began to grip my heart, I would turn to Coco to calm me down.

I get the impression that a sizable chunk of Hololive's audience takes the "anime girl come to life" aspect of virtual youtubers at face value and enjoy their content because unlike 3D girls, they can be boiled down to digestible anime tropes, but they TALK TO YOU (if you give them money). I hope I die without ever meeting any of these people. To me, Hololive has always been where I go to peek into the lives of weird, interesting, talented women with a fun snapchat filter. And Coco was the weirdest, most interesting, most talented of them all.

If I could sit down face to face with the woman who makes content under the name Kiryu Coco, I'd ask her first if she'd ever been a language teacher or studied linguistics in college. Translation and communication was a theme in most of her original content. Her Japanese For Real 2020 videos, which made me a fan in the first place, were just as much sincere attempts at educating us English speaking viewers on some conversational Japanese as they were Funny Jokes. When she played Keep Talking and No One Explodes with Marine and Pre-crisis Haachama, she identified an upside down e not as, y'know, an upside down e, but the symbol from the international phonetic alphabet. Even the reddit meme reviews, especially the early ones, seem like they were conceived as a way to bridge the gap between the English and Japanese-speaking fanbases, which they have done to some extent, though I'm sure not to the extent Coco initially imagined.

All this is to say that through the videos she's made over the years, the Bar Cocos and the superchat readings, in all of them I see the heart of the best kind of teacher in Coco. I'm lucky enough to have had teachers like her, who believe strongly in what they're doing, who care deeply about those who struggle, who will endure hardship to make the lives of someone, anyone out there just the smallest bit better with the knowledge they impart. Without people like Coco I would have killed myself a long time ago. Without Coco in particular...maybe it's a stretch, but I don't know. What I do know is that once I started going back to work, back into the teeth of the virus, into the churning machine of late capitalism, Asacoco was what got me up in the morning.

It's possible that this is her final lesson. There's only so much a teacher can do; eventually you gotta graduate.

In part 2, if there is one, we'll talk about the harassment, and what this means for Hololive. It's not gonna be a fun conversation. Peace out.

-TK

[bigbrotherlouis]

i’m obsessed with joel farabee and morgan frost and you should be too: a primer

hello! welcome! recently i have become infatuated with morgan frost and joel farabee for a lot of reasons but mostly because of that one post that i spent like twenty minutes searching various blogs for that said “people are freaking out about sexualising hockey players, meanwhile joel farabee is one instagram comment away from telling morgan frost he’d suck him dry.” in my head rent free. hit a girl up if you have the post.

anyway! frosty and beezy:

[hard cut to me whispering “oh my god even their nUMBERS are friends” i’m fine.]

this is more like about vibes and less about facts, so you can google if you want to know more about their, like, bios and stats and stuff that’s not 99% rpf or conjecture. this primer is just the things that make me scream. however, that being said, they do play well on a line together and both are very good players.

joel farabee is american, from new york i believe but his dad is from philly, and falls neatly into the category of BORN TO BE A FLYER. longtime fan, hugely excited to play for the team, brings it up all the time.

morgan frost, from ontario canada, was not.

a real, actual tweet. he tweeted this with his WHOLE chest and then joined the flyers like three years later. i adore it. another real actual tweet i adore:

sweet, sweet joel. he misses his buddies :( no doubt including morgan because they are, by all appearances, obsessed with each other. i’m trying not to keep  using the word obsessed in this primer but it’s hard because they are. morgan’s a year older, a first round draft pick in 2017 and joel’s a first round pick in 2018, but they didn’t start playing together until 2019, i believe, because joel played for a college team in boston. side note: he also captained team usa and wore a number 28 in honour of claude giroux and i am absolutely not okay about it.

e! mo! tion! al! incidentally, frosty wears danny briere’s number when he plays for the flyers, which. take from that what you will. iykyk. their NUMBERS are FRIENDS. HERITAGE SOULMATES. joel’s been called up to play on the flyers (and did really well in the playoffs!) but we’re still waitin’ for morgan to come along too but the coaching staff hasn’t recognised the raw power of true love yet so.

at this point, you’re probably saying “sasha shut up about their fucking numbers and talk about why they’re obsessed with each other” but good news! i do not need to do that because the official flyers media has done that for me! (x) i’d recommend watching it because it’s a lot packed into a neat 100 seconds, but notable moments include the voice over saying “joel farabee and morgan frost have found that going at it together has its benefits” within the first thirty seconds. that is a real direct quote. i can’t believe it either. there’s also a lot of light homoerotic bonding over playing chel, them sitting across from each other  on their beds, the admission of being ROOMMATES (oh my god they were roommates), this shot of them sitting with their mouths wide open on either side of their dad,

and also joel wearing a hat with a canadian maple leaf on it, despite being from the the united states. wonder where he got that from. please watch the video.

when they’re not playing chel or, you know, going at it together, they’re being horny in each other’s instagram comments. there’s honestly.... so many of these that i can include but we’re just gonna go with my favourites.

when i say i think about this comment on a picture of morgan with isaac ratcliffe, a fellow flyers prospect on a daily basis, i mean it. i’ll be just doing my thing, minding my own business, and MORGAN MAKES ME VENMO HIM JUST TO TALK will pop into my head, completely uninvited. king shit for morgan to do and king shit for joel to admit on social media for the world to see, but joel admitting things he maybe shouldn’t is a running theme. 

cool. TOTALLY not flirting or anything.

joel. also both their exhibitionist streaks should be explored in fic more i am JUST sayin.

ok but bee you were lookin. like you can chirp but you were lookin, don’t lie. 

when ur in love with ur roommate but ur both hockey players so u can only communicate that love via chirping when he’s with the boys :(

what’s it called when you vibe really well with someone and also live with them and also comment on their shirtlessness and also maybe kiss them on the mouth a little? d... da... dating?? can’t be it.

morgan is a little more composed in the comments and mostly just posts inside jokes i cannot comprehend, or compliments. it’s still cute.

this was on a playoffs pic where joel’s wearing #28 love 2 see it love a supportive boyf always

this one was of joel with a fish he caught and i’m sorry but i did not want it on my phone.

but morgan can’t hide his affection for long. (me, in the distance: TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT!!!!!!!)

there’s more comments but they’re boring and this is long, mostly joel chirping  morgan for wearing baseball or football stuff. however! they are also on twitter where they keep each other humble after incredible goals, like bros do,

this is DEFINITELY flirting. like, blatant. it’s like that kind of flirting when you’re thirteen and you don’t know what to do with your body so you just kinda steal your crush’s stuff or insult them because all attention is good attention, right??

but when push comes to shove, beezy is always gonna look out for his boy (because they are in love):

some important pictures of them together, for your pleasure: 

this is so DUMB and i love it

friends supporting friends!!!

this is them meeting their hockey dads :) so cute :) joel is promising g that he’ll have morgan back by ten yessir he will be respectful of boundaries and curfew. jake is high fiving morgan on getting some. this is facts i just call em like i see em.

and finally!

is this allowed?????  is this allowed???? it’s hard to tell but i’m pretty sure that’s joel on his knees for in front of morgan and i just??? how is that allowed???? it’s been five days and this picture has RUINED me. someone write me an essay to have on my desk by morning, stat.

also v unrelated but here is a video of morgan frost reading, proving he’s the smart one in the relationship. that’s not saying much but, hey! at least there’s proof he can read.

obviously different ships capture people in different ways but there’s something about them to me, personally, that is just so captivating. there’s a lot of potential for different fic vibes, and joel in particular always has a really fun voice to read (and also to write). they definitely have chemistry, they’re pitted against each other so there’s a good-natured rivalry going on, CLOTHES SHARING AND HERITAGE SOULMATE NUMBERS, and, like, they just genuinely seem to enjoy each other. someone PLEASE write more fic for them or by god i’ll have to do it myself.

ok that’s everything for now, i believe. they’re in love and don’t care who knows it and i’m obsessed. (however, i’m also obsessed with joel farabee and andrei svechnikov together, for which i have a one-picture argument for here.)

(p.s. anything not linked i screenshotted myself thank youuu for reading have a good day and remember: morgan makes joel vemno him just to talk 😌)

edit: hello. i wrote this on election night as a way to take off the edge of my nerves and it is not as funny or screechy as i wanted it to be so i’m going to add some now.  

[soft-for-them]

a cup of tea for the handsome man ♡ geordi la forge x reader

anon: OKAY concept: Geordi had a failed valentines date, and reader (who crushes hard) is like “bruh hang out with MEEE” a la Taylor swifts “you belong with me”

gender neutral reader, geordi ain’t straight,

gif doesn’t really match but it’s cute ok! not proof read.

‘Maybe you can accompany my friend Geordi La Forge today.’ Data bluntly asks as you both walk down a stone covered street.

‘Data, I swear to the stars, stop!’ you whine to your android friend who currently still wears his yellow dress uniform despite it being shore leave.

‘I am only asking because Geordi seems to be by himself.’ Data holds up the cat carrier that he holds, wiggling his finger to Spot, ‘Please calm down Spot.’

You are Lieutenant (Y/n) (l/n), though most people call you (y/n) and ever since you have met Data you have both been found friends. You are interested in robotics and androids, so the friendship came naturally.

However, Data doesn’t have many out of work friends. He mostly hangs around you, Spot and a very handsome man by the name of Geordi La Forge.

‘Just because I’m your friend does not mean I’m automatically his, Data.’ You tug at the draw strings of your oversized hoodie straighten the out strings.

‘Yes, but you are technically mutuals for you both have me as your friend.’ Data looks at you with a blank stare, ‘And you are normally alone so you need another friend.’

If you haven’t been friends with the yellow tinted man then you would have told him off.

It is somewhat true; you do spend a lot of time in engineering and most of your really good friends are stationed on different ships. But you want to spend you shore leave on earth doing something fun, not awkwardly trying to befriend Geordi La Forge, a man you have fancied for quite a while.

If Data has some more common sense the he would see your heart eyes towards his dear friend but he doesn’t; all he sees is a hermit engineer who needs a buddy whilst Data isn’t around.

‘Data, why has this come on? I’m alone most of the time!’ you have plans and it doesn’t involve trying not to out your crush to a clueless Geordi or Data.

‘I just do not want my friends be lonely.’

Data’s eyebrows frown as you two stop in front of a veterinary practice.

‘Just because me and Geordi will be alone when you take Spot to get her check-up doesn’t mean we will be lonely.’

‘But you will both be alone.’ he deliberates.

‘We will be fine Data.’ You place a hand on your friend’s arm, ‘If you want, we can all meet up after Spot’s check up and I can officially meet Geordi, ok?’

‘I would like that very much (y/n).’ Data sincerely smiles.

He nods his head and then walks into the small vets.

 You shake you head in amusement at your dear friend’s worry as you begin walking down the street.

‘Data, data, data.’ You think with an amused smile blooming on your face.

For about ten minutes you wonder the streets aimlessly, looking at the plants that grown up the shop fronts and the old Roman roads. Benches are in the middle of the ‘roads’ that are really used for pedestrians to walk on, tram cars sliding by the painting like scenery.

Whilst wondering a small alleyway catches your eyes.

It’s not a dingy alleyway with bins and a dead end but it’s actually a little nook filled with cafes and small hobby shops.

Looking both ways you walk across the street into the alley, every bump of the pathway felt even in you tick soled trainers.

Passing a few shops your eyes land on a small round of metal tables, some filled with people, outside a small two-story café.

You walk in, a heartly woman automatically greeting you from the counter at the back. The place is very small and thin but it does not feel claustrophobic. There is a cottage core vibe to it, the place lit up by the huge widows at the front and the fairy lights shaped like hearts.

The downstairs seems to be the place to order food and drink, a peak of a small kitchen at the back can be seen from an open door past the counter.

‘Um hello.’ You say back to the woman whilst you wipe your feet on the welcome mat, ‘What’s good here?’

‘Well first are you allergic to anything my dear?’

You answer the question and tell the woman what kind of tea you like.

‘Well because today is Valentine’s day, we have our cake special that I think is perfect for you!’

You look at the slice of cake the woman points at in the little display case.

‘It’s freshly baked, I made it just this morning!’

‘Yeah, sure, it looks nice. I’ll have a slice.’ You need to indulge yourself every now and then.

She slides a cup of your favourite tea and a slice of cake to you. You pay with you card, leaving a good tip.

‘The upstairs is the best place sit.’ She says as you take your plate and cup.

 With a nod you ascend the steps to the upstairs to see the prettiest room you’ve ever seen.

The room’s roof is a giant glass window and there is many potted plants that look like they’re growing up the walls. Tables are littered around, each one with a different flower on it, some customers are using the built in holo computer screens.

You find a small two four person table near the back and you sit down breathing in the faint smell of pollen that doesn’t actually tickle your nose into a sneeze.

‘Hum, could be fake plants?’ you think as you take a sip of your tea.

.

.

For a while you just eat and browse the holo screen at your table, emersed and doom scrolling through blogs about robotics.

You had sent a message to Data telling him where you are and telling him to come here when he was done with Spot’s check up.

It must have been half an hour at staring at the screen. You had finished the pink decorated cake and your tea was almost done as well.

With achy eyes you peer up and look around the room.

There seems to be the same people albeit a couple new faces.

In on corner to your right is a mother with her child who you hadn’t noticed, an older person sits clicking on old keyboard laptop and a new younger man sits waiting next to the giant window overlooking the alleyway.

Even though this man is far away you can tell that he’s a good looking man. Said person wears a short sleeve patterned button down reminiscent of the 1990’s, the blues stripes bold against the cottage core interior of the café. The shirt is tucked into some brown slacks, that are rolled up at the bottom and held up by a shiny black belt. Block coloured peek out from his trousers and equally shiny black shoes.

If you would try to pull off such a vintage outfit but all you ever wear is your work uniform or oversized hoodies, making you look like a in debt college student. Right now you look like a in debt college student in your Starfleet branded hoodie and shorts that are comfy but childish in colour scheme.

‘I bet this café attracts all the fashionable types.’ You think sipping the last of your tea only to spit out in surprise.

The man in the retro shirt turns around only to reveal a very familiar yellow and silver visor.

‘Fuck, he’s even more good looking!’ your mind becomes scrambled, ‘Was he always there? Does he know I’m here? Should I go over and say hi?’

Your eyes stay on Geordi as he keeps on peering out of the big window, him looking like he’s waiting for someone.

‘Maybe he’s waiting for Data?’ it’s a logical assumption that Data told him to meet him in the café you are in. A check up for a cat doesn’t take that long right?

 You leave you cup and plate on you table and start to edge your way over to the handsome man.

You’re not sure if what you’re doing is right but you step next to his table, with a big smile on your face and hand raised up in a too enthusiastic wave.

‘Geordi La Forge, right?

Geordi’s snaps up to yours, his face looks slightly confused in that puppy kid of way.

‘Sorry, I’m (y/n), Data’s friend.’ you stop waving so you don’t look so odd, ‘Um, I saw you here and wanted to say that Data will be coming here after Spot’s vet appointment. Sooooo, if you want to join, my table is free.’

Whilst you happily talk Geordi’s face morphs into a sweet smile. You quickly look down to his two person table to see to sets of cups and two slices of heart themed cupcakes, clearly for another half.

‘Though you don’t have too if you have plans.’

‘He talks about you a lot.’ Geordi declares, ‘Too much sometimes.’

‘Well I am a brilliant person.’ you lean against the window trying to look cool but the hoodie you drown in just makes you look dishevelled.

There is an awkward pause before you just stop leaning as start walking away.

‘I see you might be busy, so I’m over here-‘ you point over to your table, ‘-yeah.’

With some more muttered pleasantries you shuffle back to your table hoping tha he doesn’t find you too weird. With you bum on the seat you wave you hand at the holo screen unlocking it from it’s sleeping state before quickly looking up to catch Geordi looking at you.

With another odd wave you hunch down and resume reading an article cybernetic enhancements in the medical field but every ten minutes or so you have to look up at Geordi.

One time you looked up he was staring out the window, another time he was stirring his drink like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and now you’re looking at him rapidly typing out something on a communicator.

With your tea and cake devoured you quickly stand up to go downstairs to order some more tea. You look around and hope that no one takes your table, the tope floor is pretty empty now, and the holo screen on the table is still on.

It takes about five minutes but you bound up the stairs with not one but two cups of tea.

Hurried you head over to Geordi’s table and slide him one of you cups, making the man look up to you with another look of confusion.

‘Hot tea turned cold isn’t the best so I got you another cup.’ and with another small wave you walk back your table.

‘Smooth (y/n), he’s going to like me now!’ a Cheshire cat grin blooms as you take a sip of you drink.

As you fangirl/fanboy over your ‘move’ a person slides in the seat opposite you.

 ‘Is it still ok to sit.’ Geordi asks holding his cup of tea.

‘Well you’re technically already sitting down.’ you turn of the holo screen with your hand, ‘But you can stay, if that’s what you’re asking.’

You look at Geordi, gaze unchanged, confidence oozing out of you.

‘I’d imagine that Data will be here soon.’ you lean forward a bit, ‘So we should acquaint each other before he does.’

‘I guess you already know who I am. I know who you are… thank you for the tea by the way.’

‘I don’t want to be a nosy so and so but why were you alone.’ You ask hoping you don’t sound rude.

‘I can ask the same thing to you.’ He quips back.

‘Had nothing to do and went exploring, found thing place. You?’ you press.

‘I got stood up.’ He plainly puts it, ‘Was chatting to someone in engineering and yeah…’

Geordi looks deflated as he gulps his drink.

‘Which dick stood you up, I can set my robot on them.’ he looks up at you with a bright smile.

‘You have a robot?’

‘It’s my thing.’

Another pause o silence happens before Geordi speaks.

‘Lieutenant James Sibell.’ as he says the name a disgusted scoff comes from you lips, your face distorted in disgusted.

‘That bastard man!’ you hand fly up in a comical rage, ‘Good job you have me to keep you company.’

Geordi laughs at your words, a small pit of joy growing in his heart, he must tell Data later that he has a good friend in you and that he should have introduced you two sooner.

.

.

Data step up the stairs of the café, spot in her cat carrier, and a slice of cake.

He only bought the cake out of curiosity, the cake having rainbow icing and little sugar heart shaped sweets on top.

When he gets to the top he automatically scans the room. His eyes land on a table near the back, his two closets friends chatting together, both sitting rather close.

.

.

.

i have no clue if this is good. it’s long-ish but that doesn't necessarily equate to it being the best.

please tell me if it’s good or not.

[perfectlymarilynmonroe]

Hey babe, I had a q about your last photo caption. The bit about Marilyn refusing to be a kept woman is somewhat misleading to me- didn't she live with Johnny Hyde for a time, and didn't his influence grant her favorable notice during casting for films like The Asphalt Jungle? Maybe I'm not remembering correctly, but I don't think their relationship was precisely sexual even if he clearly doted on her for a time. Obvi she got further on her own merit, but I do think that's an oft unexplored moment in her life that was definitely instrumental because of her choice to link up with him. Just wondering about your thoughts on this! Love the blog <3

Hi! Thank you for your sweet comments about my blog :) Sorry for the delay in response, but I wanted to give a thorough response to this. I’ve actually received a couple of comments on Instagram lately regarding this, and I don’t mind addressing this confusion.

*Disclaimer to everyone reading: This is based on the research I have done and is to address a number of issues. This isn’t to glorify Marilyn or deny any flaws or imperfections, but to state the facts. I’m publicly sharing this so I can later refer back to it. It’s a longer response to answer any follow-up questions I may get but, of course, you can still ask any you may have. ♡♡

--

It can be deceiving, but I think the bigger concern is what she took for what she got, rather than vise versa. If she was looking to be a gold-digging, role-stealing actress, she would have married Hyde the minute he asked her to. She would have inherited his millions and could have bought her way through Hollywood. For a young woman with hardly anything, she chose herself and said no. 

Just before she met him, she was getting help from John Carroll and Lucille Ryman, so when she said, Johnny was the first to believe in her, that isn’t entirely true. Due to her lack of a father-figure as a child I think that when she saw the belief in her from a man like Johnny, at a reputable agency, who was willing to do anything for her, she latched on to it.

Hyde’s co-workers at William Morris later reported being furious with him because he slowly began to abandon his other clients and focused only on helping her. In the case of The Asphalt Jungle, since you asked, it was actually the help of both Hyde and Lucille Ryman that she was given an audition. However, director John Huston later said she didn’t get the “role because of Hyde...she got it because she was damn good.”

In my personal opinion, based on the facts, whether did not sleep with Johnny - some historians even refuse to believe they were ever sexually involved - it was never for roles, auditions, etc. As I mentioned, if it were, she would have married him, taken his money, and used that to her advantage. She actually stopped seeing him - both  personally and professionally - by Fall 1949 because she was so sick and tired of being called, “Mrs. Johnny Hyde” by him and hearing from colleges that he was calling her his wife. 

When it came to being a “kept” woman, she was referring to the large number of “casting directors” or studio execs, etc, who faked an upcoming film to lure her into their office and attempt to seduce her, or held their hand on her thigh while she auditioned, almost forced her, etc... and each time she managed to walk out. 

She wrote an article entitled, “The Wolves I’ve Know” that was published in a number of places like Motion Picture in 1953, The New York Daily News, and more. When she met with Ben Hecht for her autobiography interviews, she also spoke of them and it was published in a London newspaper in August 1954, and in Australian magazines in 1955.

He did leave his family and move into a bigger place and invited her to live there, but she never officially moved in. She did spend quite a bit of her time there, but by early Spring she was living on her own and was very low on rent. This is why she posed nude on red velvet in May 1949. She admitted to thinking of asking men she knew for money to help her, but felt she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself, and it made her sick to even think of it.

For everyone reading this, remember, she was twenty-three. She was still a very young girl and had grown up with little guidance in her life. She was abused, and was in and out of so many school and homes, she was never taught how to do things. She figured it out on her own, and of course, like anyone in that situation, maybe didn’t always make the best decisions or have the best thoughts.

--

I know this answer was very long, but I felt I needed to address a number of points because things are rarely black and white - especially for Marilyn Monroe, who is the subject of much scrutiny, then and now - and there are many things to consider in regards to a sensitive subject like this! 

I hope I’m not missing anything, but I hope it answers your question! xo

--

Below is a list of various quotes said by Marilyn that I hope everyone will find helpful :)

From “The Wolves I’ve Known” published in The New York Times:

The first real wolf I encountered should have been ashamed of himself because he was trying to take advantage of a mere kid. That’s all I was and I wasn’t suspicious of him at all when he stopped his car at a corner and started to talk to me.

He looked at me all over and then came up with that famous line: “You ought to be in pictures.” That was the first time I’d ever heard it, so it didn’t sound corny to me.

He told me he had an office at the Goldwyn studio and said why didn’t I come and see him and he would get me a screen test. It sounded pretty good to me because I was crazy to get into the movies.

I was modeling at that time and I asked the people who ran the agency where I got my jobs what they thought of his offer. The manager called the studio but never was able to get in touch with my would-be benefactor. However, the wolf called the agency and I made an appointment to go to his office on Saturday afternoon.

I didn’t know then that the producers and other movie officials don’t make Saturday afternoon appointments. I found that out later. I also found out that he didn’t really have any connection with the Goldwyn studio but had borrowed a friend’s office.

He was fat and jovial and, of course, drove a Cadillac. He gave me a script to read and told me how to pose while reading it. All the poses had to be reclining, although the words I was reading didn’t seem to call for that position.

--

Of course, there are other ways a girl could survive until another studio came along. A starlet could take on a lover, usually a well-heeled married man who could pay her bills, or she could become the mistress to an old man and through his connections help advance her career. Believe me, there were and still are many starstruck girls that do get by that way. But for myself, respect is one of life’s greatest treasures. I mean, what does it all add up to if you don’t have that? If there [is] only one thing in my life I [am] proud of, it’s that I’ve never been a kept woman.  

And believe me, it wasn’t because there weren’t opportunities to become one. I think I had as many problems as the next starlet keeping the Hollywood wolves from my door. These wolves just could not understand me. They would tell me, “But Marilyn, you’re not playing the game the way you should. Be smart. You’ll never get anywhere in this business acting the way you do.” My answer to them would be, “The only acting I’ll do is for the motion picture camera.” I was determined, no one was going to use me or my body—even if he could help my career. I’ve never gone out with a man I didn’t want to. No one, not even the studio, could force me to date someone.

You can’t sleep your way into being a star. It takes much, much more. But it helps. A lot of actresses got their first chance that way. Most of the men are such horrors, they deserve all they can get out of them!

The one thing I hate more than anything else is being used. I’ve always worked hard for the sake of someday becoming a talented actress. I knew I would make it someday if I only kept at it and worked hard without lowering my principles and pride in myself.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

IMPORTANT NOTICE

[Please read this, it’s important.]

//Hey everyone, it’s the mod here.

//In case it wasn’t already obvious, I need to make a very relevant announcement, because it relates to the future of this blog. 

//I did mention beforehand that I would be making this announcement, and whether or not it’s good or bad remains to be seen.

//I will say outright that I don’t plan on stopping the blog. I am determined to see this series all the way to the end, even if it takes me ages. And I know there have been many times that I’ve had to delay, or cut short posts because of personal reasons, and I cannot thank the people who follow this blog enough for continuing to read my stuff, despite all of this.

//Hence why today’s announcement is so important. I don’t know exactly how long ago it was, but between a few weeks and a month ago, I said I was going to delay the start of the current arc because of a personal thing I was dealing with. I then had to delay it longer because I got sick with COVID-19.

//I didn’t really shed any details about what that was, because I didn’t think it relevant, and thought it quite personal, but now that I’m officially in this phase, my situation is now going to affect my writing, so I’d rather make clear what it is to the followers of the story, so that we can all be on the same page.

//Tomorrow, I will be starting university.

//This is a big deal. My life is transitioning into a new phase, and with it comes many more challenges, but also many more opportunities. 

//I’ll be studying animation for those who are curious. Perhaps I may be able to use some of the things I’ve learned on the blog? Who knows?

//Anyhow, the point is that I received my timetable, and in case it wasn’t already obvious, I am going to be very busy and jam-packed with assignments right from Day 1.

//So in order to make time for the blog, I have to rearrange some things relating to the schedule, and I would like to very quickly talk about this. I will be implementing some new rules for the followers and askers.

//THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. Since I have yet to start Uni, I don’t actually know the full proceedings of my timetable, or what times I have available to myself. But for now, let’s go with it.

1: IT’S LIKELY I WILL NEED TO TAKE THURSDAY’S OFF AS WELL.

//As most of you know, I don’t do anything relating to the blog on Tuesday’s. The reason was because I started this blog back when I was in college, and Tuesday’s were days where I got home late in the evening, and couldn’t write because I didn’t have the energy.

//My current university timetable tells me that BOTH Tuesday’s AND Thursday’s will be the same case. My classes supposedly end at 9pm on those days, which I think is extraordinarily late to get out of class, but all the same, it’s usually the time that I write things for the blog.

//I simply won’t be able to make time for blog stuff on these days, so unless I get any further notice about my timetable, I won’t be able to do anything for the blog on Tuesday and Thursday.

2: CHANGES ARE GOING TO BE MADE TO SPRITE EDIT REQUESTS.

//As most of you probably already know, I’m not against creating sprites or sprite edits for the blog. Doing so is not only fun, but also helps enhance my drawing and ability to use programs like Photoshop.

//However, it’s become unfortunately clear to me that many people overestimate my ability, and send through requests that require me to completely change the characters outfit, hairstyle, just basically everything about it.

//To be honest, I simply do not have the time to go through all of these sprite edits I’ve been sent and make them. It’s far too much effort for something that happens way too often.

//As of such, I’m making some new rules regarding sprite edits, and that rule dictates if I deem a request for an edit too arduous, or too time consuming, I will delete it, and not answer the question.

//I know it’s not fair, and I know it’s hard to tell what edits are and aren’t low effort for me, but I am a single person with a limited range of talent and capability. I cannot handle to dubious amount of work I’m given, especially now I’m going to be crushed under assignments and everything of the like thanks to my new school.

3: TIME I SPEND ANSWERING ASKS IN THE EVENINGS WILL DECREASE.

//Usually, when I answer asks in the evenings, I tend to start at 9pm and answer asks until 10:30pm. On days where I’m tired, I usually knock that down to about 1 hour instead.

//Now, I feel the 1 hour mark will be a permanent thing I need to implement, meaning on most days I will only be doing 1 hours worth of answering.

//Emphasis however on MOST days. As I said already, Thursdays are out of the question depending on how my timetable shapes up in the end. I will probably do my regular format on Friday’s and weekends.

//This one probably matters the least, I just wanted to let people know in case they were curious.

//That’s all for now. I’ll repeat again, if it ends up being that my timetable goes through any last minute changes and we can simply go through the format we’re going through now, then I will make a future post explaining that.

//I apologize greatly if this ends up being an inconvenience for some. I know I’ve done this a lot, and I hope you can find it in you to understand that living two kinds of life is difficult.

-Mod

[collegecoward]

Hey, so I graduated this past May and since then I've just been working 40 hours a week. I feel like I need to go to college to do something with my life but I feel like theres so much in my way and I havent done anything to even start and I dont have a clue what I'd want to do. I'm so unsure on how to do anything regarding financial aid or even applying to colleges. I'm also worried that it wouldn't work with my schedule for my job. I work 5 days with 2 off days and I'm on evenings so I feel like I wouldn't be able to balance work and school, but I would have to bc I'm my only financial support. Sorry for the dumping my problems, but any advice?

How To Do College 101

Congratulations on your graduation! Working a full-time job after graduation (during a freaking pandemic, no less) is no small feat either, and I applaud you for that, too. Once upon a time, I was like you: I didn’t know anything about college except that I wanted to go, and now I run a blog telling people how to go to college. College might be strange and unfamiliar now, but in time, you will learn how to do it! 

This might be my longest post, so strap in for a fun ride!! My answer comes to you in three parts:

How To Do Community College

How To Do University

How To Do Financial Aid

P.S. I’m going to say this only once, but feel free to ask why: Do not attend a for-profit college. Okay, now onto the basics!

How To Do Community College

I encourage you to read my Ode to Community College. Community colleges are real colleges designed for people who are low on funds, are working or have other responsibilities, don’t know what they want to study yet, and/or don’t know how college works yet.

Step 1: Applying

Community colleges accept anyone who applies, and the application is usually just like filling out a job application, but you will also need to send in your high school transcript, and I recommend sending any test scores. Your college may have you take a placement test to see if you’re ready for college. If you’re not quite ready, they may have you take some pre-college courses in English or math before you officially start a degree program.

Step 2: Choosing a Degree Program

Among other things, community colleges award associate’s degrees, which are essentially the first two years of a bachelor’s degree at a four-year college or university. You’ll take introductory classes like English, math, science, and social sciences, as well as electives (i.e. fun classes). Here’s a list of programs that might be offered at your community college.

Step 3: Taking the Right Classes

Make sure you stick to your college’s degree plan so that you take classes that 1) count toward your associate’s degree and 2) will transfer to a university. Most classes you take for an associate’s degree (AA, AS, or AFA) should transfer to a bachelor’s degree (BA, BS, or BFA) easily enough, but sometimes universities aren’t very transfer-friendly. The best option is to transfer to a university that has a partnership with your community college, which is information you should be able to find on your community college’s website. If your community college doesn’t have any partners, you’ll want to research the transfer policies at the universities you’re interested in and follow their guidelines on what classes to take.

Step 4: Transferring

In your last year of community college, you will apply to a four-year college or university for your bachelor’s degree. You’ll need to pick a major when you apply because for the next two years, that’s what you will be studying. Make sure you tour the university before you attend and get acclimated before your first day! 

How To Do University

Whether or not you attend community college for the first two years or enroll directly into a four-year college or university, you’ll want to understand how to navigate the basics as early as possible.

Step 1: Exploring Your Options

Use my Self-Reflection Toolkit and this quiz from Marquette University to explore potential majors. These are just meant to get you thinking and guide you as you learn more about yourself and your interests. This process will take time to research and figure out, and if you enroll directly into a four-year college you can change your major after you apply. As I mentioned, the first two years are mostly basics and figuring stuff out, so either way you have time. 

I was very bad at choosing colleges to apply to and applied almost at random. I learned a lot from those mistakes, and on my FAQ page you’ll see me trying to impart that wisdom on others. I recommend doing your research, going on virtual tours, and getting used to just looking at college websites, even if you don’t know what you want yet. Start by window shopping for colleges in your state and see what they have to offer you. College Board also has tools for finding a college that fits your needs. It’s worth starting as early as possible, and I know that you can do it. Like I said, I was really bad at it and I still made it through.

Step 2: Applying

Applying to a four-year college will take more steps than a community college application. Many colleges require letters of recommendation, essays, and application fees (look on their websites for fee waivers). More information is on my FAQ page, of course, but be prepared to complete these steps before application deadlines. Each college sets its own deadline, but if you want to go next year, you’ll likely need to apply by January or February. Applying can be daunting, but you will need to do it at some point, even if you go to community college first. 

Step 3: Finding Resources

Access any and all resources your university offers, which will include advising, counseling, career services, and more. The same is true at a community college, but I would argue it’s even more true at a university. You might find out about internships, research opportunities, fun events, and all that stuff that excited you when you saw it on your university’s website! Even if you don’t feel like you need resources, you’re paying for them, so you might as well use them! Often people won’t know how to help you unless you tell them you’re struggling, like how you told me what you’re going through and I wrote a post that’s turning into a short novel! (I’ll be done soon, I promise.)

Step 4: Taking The Right Classes

Just like at a community college, you want to make sure you’re taking classes that count toward your degree and interest you. Make sure you’re following the prescribed degree plan on your university’s website and communicated by your advisor. If you find that you’ve chosen a major that doesn’t fit your interests, make sure you speak with your professors, your advisor, and anyone else whose opinion you trust.

How To Do Financial Aid

Step 1: Understanding The Basics

There are three major types of financial aid: loans (money you have to pay back after you graduate), grants (government money you’re awarded based on your financial need that you don’t have to pay back), and scholarships (money from a college or other source that is awarded for any reason that you don’t have to pay back). Loans might come from the government, your college, or a bank. I recommend borrowing from the federal government because the interest is so low (basically, it’s cheaper to pay off than a bank loan).

Step 2: Filling Out FAFSA

If you want to go to college next fall, or if you just want to do a practice round, fill out FAFSA now. I’m assuming you’re under 24, so you will need your parents’ tax information even if they’re not going to help you pay for college. Filling out FAFSA will never, not ever ever ever require you or your parents to take out any loans. Rather, FAFSA gives you access to any need-based financial aid you might be eligible for, whether that aid comes from the government or not. Loans agreements are a totally separate form, and you can take some loans without your parents’ help. If you’re not eligible for FAFSA, check whether your state or college has its own FAFSA alternative.

Step 3: Reading Your Award Letter

After a college sends an acceptance letter, they will also send a financial aid award letter. The letter will show you how much you’ve been awarded in scholarships and grants and how much you can take out in loans from the federal government or the college itself. You should compare your financial aid amount to the total cost of attendance, will you can find on the college’s financial aid webpage. The total cost of attendance is how much it costs to pay for tuition, fees, housing, and a rough estimate of your other living expenses. Basically, it’s how much it costs to be a student for one year.

As you said, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to work 40 hours while maintaining good grades, so may need to be frugal and creative to fill in any gaps financial aid didn’t cover. Private colleges tend to have a really big “sticker price,” but may offer generous scholarships as discounts, whereas public colleges tend to be cheaper and may have (large and small) scholarships to help you pay.

Step 4: Applying

In addition to the scholarships that you may be automatically awarded if you meet certain criteria, your colleges may also have scholarships that you have to apply for by yourself. This information will be located on a college’s financial aid webpage. There are also scholarships from nonprofit organizations and businesses. Visit my resources page for info, ask people you know if they’re aware of any scholarships, ask your boss and coworkers, and ask Google for “scholarships in [your town].”

Okay, I threw a lot at you, but those are the basics as I see them! You can totally do this. It’s going to be a big learning curve, but the payoffs will be big. And you can always come back here for more advice and reassurance. I’m proud of you already for thinking of your future and doing what you can to support yourself and your learning.

[qonqr]

I’m Still Here

Many of you may have been asking yourself where did Silver go? Is anyone still working on QONQR?  I admit I’ve been very quiet the past year and from the outside, it looks like not much is going on.

 Before I give my QONQR update I want to share a major accomplishment for me. I’m a little less of a hoarder than I was a month ago. As the 11th year anniversary approached, I decided I had too much old QONQR merchandise I needed to get in the hands of my players. However, I hate shipping. I should be the spokesperson for one of those shipping providers that make shipping easy because I hate doing it so much. Many of you know that the player Rayndel has an Etsy store where she sells QONQR merchandise with my permission. I sent her a 65lb (30kg) box of QONQR stuff. Coffee cups, T-shirts, dog tags and stickers. She is liquidating all of it for me. You can find it all right here.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/DragonHoardCrafts?section_id=19648949

 2020 and 2021 have been challenging for most people, and I’m no exception.  Both our kids are off to college. We are getting older and so are our extended families. Medical issues become more frequent for us and them. The stress of the pandemic doesn’t help. There are days when I can sit at my computer all day, and never write a line of code. Things are hard, they impact our ability to work as hard as we once did.

 A little over two weeks ago, QONQR hit its 11th birthday. The milestone passed quietly. I always spend time reflecting on how QONQR has changed my life and the stories you’ve shared about how it has changed yours. We’ve built something great together. Together we keep it going.

 Despite outward appearances. Things are happening at QONQR. I am working, albeit at an admittedly slow pace. I’ve let go of the stress of pushing QONQR as fast as I can, and instead I’m working on QONQR at a pace that is comfortable. It is important to me and my family that I end my day without being drained of all my energy by the awful decisions and quality that Apple and Google hand me every day.

 The next release of QONQR will include the following features. Many of these are mostly done, so I’m happy to share them, with the caveat that I have no idea when these will actually hit the store. Tons of testing is still needed.

 New Sync Lock Rules

 Sync lock will now last much longer, perhaps a week or even a month before it automatically expires. Along with that Sync Lock Protection will also last longer. The more times you gain sync lock protection, the longer it will last. We want to protect legitimate family members from daily locks, but also want to avoid situations where multi-scoper can get infrequent help to unlock an army of devices and accounts. In addition to longer locks, Sync lock may also hurt resource collection with your bases depending on how play testing goes.

 As with everything pertaining to multi-scoping, it is a blurry line between stopping those who play unfair, and those that are punished for inviting family and friends to play.

 Notifications

I have wanted push notifications for most of the past 10 years. In fact, we were very close to having them implemented about 5-7 years ago, but Google changed their push notification system. We used a unified messaging system created by Microsoft to push to both Google and Apple simultaneously. There were incompatibilities between the new and the old Google system for a long time. We gave up on trying to finish that implementation back then, waiting for Google and Microsoft to get their stuff fixed, and it was years before it became a priority again.

 I spent most of the past 3-4 months working on notification. This area is quite possibly one of the worst technical implementations I’ve had to work with in all my time working in software. For example, if you kill an iPhone application, you also remove the ability to get push notifications until the next time you start the app. It appears to be almost random when Android will decide to beep your phone when receiving a notification, and when it will be silently added to the notification center. For both Apple and Google, the documentation is frustratingly inaccurate or out of date. There are multiple different ways a notification can be processed depending on whether the application was terminated by the user, suspended by the operating system, in the background or in the foreground. Was the notification scheduled locally or sent from a remote server?  Honestly, as a developer, it would be difficult to purposely design a worse system.

 The good news is that I believe I have it working as good as it can possibly work. In the next release you will be able to enable or disable notifications as a whole, or selectively choose which notification you want to receive. Notifications will include: Atlantis, New Wire messages, Mentions in Chat and Forums, Bots and Bases Full.

 A Major Overhaul to the Scope

The changes to Sync Lock mandated that overheat have additional logic to control bots and energy regeneration. More significantly, if we want to have a notification that your scope is full, so I needed to know exactly when the scope would be full.  Currently your regeneration rate is based on the number of launches in the past hour. Launching a few seconds before or after an old launch rolls off that 1 hour mark can mess up the prediction of when you will be full again. To make that prediction accurately, without checking every minute to see, “Are my bots full now”, we changed the formula for when bots will be full, and scheduled a notification based on that time.

 The new regeneration is very similar to the old, but we predict you may get 1 or 2 more launches per hour. I’m hedging the formula towards more not fewer launches to make sure this is seen as a positive change.

 As long as we are messing with the scope, let’s talk about the Bot Regen Accelerator.  Hard core players have pointed out that players who launch on a timer, always hitting the “optimal” launch interval, don’t gain any advantage when purchasing this $0.99 upgrade. In the new release this upgrade will reduce your overheat level by 1 level and you will never be in maximum overheat due to deploying bots. The impact of the upgrade will be noticeable by everyone with this change. The name of this upgrade will probably change to “Scope Coolant” or “Heat Diffuser”. Send me your name ideas.

  Subscriptions, Ads and Elite Players

This is a change that probably won’t be in the next release, but it is something I’m thinking about before the end of the year. Apple has had a bug in their subscription logic for years. If you purchase a subscription on an iPhone, then get a new iPhone, you need to cancel the subscription in the App Store, then renew from your new phone. Apple keeps charging you, but the new device can’t see the subscription, so QONQR doesn’t know you are a subscriber. Why wouldn’t Apple fix this? Well Apple only takes half the percentage of a subscription after the first year. By making you start a new subscription, they can double their cut of the money you pay QONQR for the subscription. Another problem with subscriptions is that they result in many support requests because they honestly aren’t 100% reliable in either Apple or Google’s implementation.

 Many people know that earlier in the year, Apple introduced a change to advertising that blocks tracking. This is great in theory, and I get it as a consumer that I don’t like to be tracked, but this tracker blocking also blocks my ability to make any revenue on advertising. Why would I continue to give away free advertising?

 Elite players are those that have spent over $100 in QONQR over the life of their gaming experience. Over the years the benefits of being “Elite” have dwindled. Features have changed, and incentives have ended. I’d like to invest more time and energy to build features for players that continue to support QONQR but I think it makes more sense to lower the bar and make the benefits for “active” spenders.

 With these three things in mind, there is a chance that QONQR will move to a monthly “pass” option rather than a subscription. There seems to be a trend with games, where players buy a monthly pass that offers benefits, rather than using subscriptions. Subscriptions are buggy and in the case of Apple, a shady business practice.

 The same benefits available to subscribers would remain under the “pass”, but you would have to explicitly purchase the pass each month.  Secondary missions may move to the “pass” model with non-pass players getting only a handful of secondary missions per month. Ads would be completely removed from the app in this scenario since they no longer generate much revenue.

  What’s in the Plans for 2022?

 If you have read my blog over the years, you know that Apple and Google make it harder and harder to stop cheating (primarily multi-scoping).  It is being reported that Windows 11 will have the ability to run Android apps. I don’t know yet how that will impact QONQR, but I’m guessing it won’t be good. At best it will have no impact because I’ll be able to stop QONQR from running on Windows, at worst it could be a nightmare.

 March 2022 will mark the 10 year anniversary QONQR hit the Apple App Store. I can say with a high level of confidence that QONQR is now the longest running location-based, multi-platform, mobile game.

 Personally, I think 2022 needs to be a transformational year for QONQR. I’m not sure we can survive if the game doesn’t change. Apple, Google, and Microsoft have never cared about supporting mobile developers. Outrageous fees and abusive rules (recently acknowledged by the US Congress) have been part of the ecosystem from the start. There are dozens of apps that you can download from the official Google Play store that make it a simple tap to attempt to hack and manipulate an Android app, so players can do something the developer is attempting to prohibit. Once again Microsoft broke the tools I use to help secure the app from hackers, causing weeks of work to find a solution that would maintain the same level of security.  Apple and Google both purposely hide information from developers that would help them ensure real people are using their apps instead of bots. They do this under the façade of privacy, but ignore simple solutions that could maintain privacy, while helping developers ensure the integrity of how their apps are used.

 I’ve said for years, the only way to stop hackers and cheaters in QONQR is to make it irrelevant. That requires a major shift in gameplay. Together, you the players and me the developer, we need to decide if we want QONQR to have such a major shift. I don’t know what that shift would look like, but 2022 might be the year we figure it out.

 2020 was a year of making sure QONQR can survive. Through tons of work that year, massive software rewrites and updates, I was able to cut the cost of hosting QONQR. Today the cost of hosting QONQR all year, matches what we spent in three months during 2019. So far 2021 has been a year of slow work toward significant improvements to the game, but without major strategic impact to your daily playing. I’ve taken my time to avoid burn out. I’m enjoying the pace of my current work week. It has been good for my family and me.

 I’m not sure what 2022 will look like for QONQR yet, but I’m excited to try something new. Maybe we’ll break things, maybe we will create something ten times better than what we have had for the last decade. Time will tell. We’ll figure it out together.

 Thanks for keeping the lights on.

-Scott (aka Silver)

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Reality Check-Euphoria Imagine

Requested: No Warnings: mentions of trauma and a scene of an attempted sexual assault

A/N: I’m back from a super long break! I am so sorry I have not been able to update this blog since I started grad school but I have a bit of a break to write a bit. I just finished Euphoria so after this imagine, I’ll get started on the requests.

I own nothing from Euphoria and do not claim to own anything

Gif is from:geek-ramblings

Everything in italics in the story is Rue’s narration

Y/N Y/L/N wanted to be a princess for as long as she could remember. It didn’t hurt that every Disney movie and other piece of media designed for little girls endorsed this dream. One of those movies was the 1997 Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella starring Whitney Houston, Brandi, Whoopi Goldberg, and Victor Garber. It was the first time Y/N saw a princess who looked like her and it solidified that her dreams were possible. She watched that movie every day for three years and knows the soundtrack by heart. When her older cousin, McKay, irritated her, she would belt “Impossible/It’s Possible” at the top of her lungs in retaliation. While McKay was pushed to his limits on the football field, Y/N would twirl around in her living room during the ballroom sequence, pretending as though she had a dashing partner who would whisk her away. Her parents didn’t mind this dream since it suggested that she was as “normal” as a little girl could be. Eventually, Y/N’s mother put her in dance classes so that she could learn how to be graceful and dance with real people. Y/N fell in love with dancing since it gave her a way to express herself without speaking. Y/N was one of the sweetest people ever, but she was so shy and nervous, and I didn’t get it. Once she got comfortable, she actually had some things to say and a decent sense of humor. What she rarely let anyone know was she still dreamed of finding her prince, even though East Highland was overrun with frogs. In middle school, Y/N focused on studying and dancing while everyone else was practice dating (ie talking for a few hours on Facebook Messenger and avoiding eye contact in the hallway save a few nervous glances). She was hopeful that she would meet her prince in high school since that’s how it worked in the movies and what her older cousins had her believe. Y/N learned quickly that high was not like the movies and did not entertain herself with frivolous things, something Maddy called her out on at lunch one day.

  “I’m right so don’t even try to fight me about it,” Maddy affirmed from across the table.

  The cafeteria was busy and smelled of semi-fresh food and bubblegum. Y/N, Maddy, Cassie, BB, and Kat sat at their usual table. Y/N paused mid-bite into her cucumber sandwich and closed her mouth as soon as she realized it was hanging open.

  “What?”

  “You don’t do anything outside of school and dance team unless we drag you out and that needs to change,” Maddy insisted.

  “I do other things,” Y/N said hesitantly.

 “Yeah, like what? And it can’t be anything that you would use for college!”

   Y/N racked her brain for a few moments. “Well, I watch movies and I read----”

  “Fun things!” Maddy interrupted.

  “Like gettin’  d-ck,” BB added.

  Y/N’s face warmed up and she looked away from BB. “B, why’d you have to say it like that?”

  “Well, at the end of the day, all that romance sh-t you’re into is just a pretty form of foreplay.”

  “No, it’s not, they’re displays of affection and they’re beautiful. I know you all think romance is dead but I can’t and I don’t want to settle for that.” Y/N nodded her head in the direction of a table of guys who were concocting potions by mixing up the lunch of day with milk.

  Cassie grabbed Y/N’s hand. “No one would expect you of all people to settle, but you haven’t dated anyone and there are some good guys in this town if not in this school. We just want to see you happy.”

 Y/N could tell that Cassie was being sincere by the look in her eyes, all her friends were, but they also knew why Y/N behaved a certain way. The summer before eighth grade, Y/N saw the texts on her mom’s phone between her and a man that was not Y/N’s dad. It sickened her to her core, and she had no idea how to process it. Suddenly, her parents’ nightly arguments coupled with her mother’s late returns from nights out with “a friend” made more sense. She did not tell either of them that she knew and kept quiet about it. If she did not acknowledge it, she thought it would go away. She threw herself into dancing and studying, which did not raise any eyebrows. One night, Y/N, Maddy, Cassie, Lexi, and I went to the movies to see a Twilight movie. When she stepped out to get a popcorn refill, she saw her mother standing on the other side of the theater, smiling and flirting with a man who had to be in his seventies. Y/N managed to keep it together until we got back to Cassie and Lexie’s, where she broke down and told us everything. We hugged her and tried to calm her down, but there was nothing we could say that would repair her heart. Y/N’s mom officially stopped cheating when Y/N was fifteen but by then, the damage was already done. Her parents wanted to work on their marriage but neglected their child’s emotional and mental wellbeing since Y/N was so good and pretending she was fine. Her grades were excellent, she was the youngest co-captain of East Highland High’s dance team, and she stayed out of trouble. But if you really look at her, you can see the heartbreak in her big, coffee-colored eyes. Despite this, Y/N was convinced that there was a great guy out there for her, but she was extremely reluctant to date. She prayed that college would be better than high school and she would find the courage to date then.

  “I love and appreciate your guys’ concern so much, but I am not about to give up my,” Y/N paused and glanced around the cafeteria before whispering, “virginity just to fit in, no offense.”

  “Come on, Y/N, you may look and act all pure but you have to be dying to know what good d-ck feels like,” Maddy whined.

  She had been, Y/N was human and not a total saint after all.

  “I can wait, really.”

  “So, have you just not been interested in any guys? I know plenty who are interested in you,” Cassie added.

 “What?” Y/N was baffled by the loaded statement.

 “Come on, Y/N, you know you’re hot,” Kat said.

  “Your legs go up to your neck, Sis,” BB blurted as she nibbled on a Twizzler.

 “Your face is basically perfectly symmetrical, it disgusts me,” Maddy said, emphasizing her statement with hand gestures.

  Y/N chuckled nervously under the attention. “Thanks, guys.”

  “But, is there anyone that interests you?”

  Y/N glanced down at the tops of her metallic rose gold sandals. “No, not really.”

  That was a total f-cking lie. Since fourth grade, Y/N harbored a crush on Nate that was fueled by when he shoved Caleb Parker after Caleb shoved Y/N during a game of tag in gym class. When Nate helped her stand on her feet, he was basically her knight in shining armor. Nate fit Y/N’s type perfectly: tall, dark hair, dark eyes, killer smile, and kind. Y/N never said anything, but anyone could tell just by observing the way she looked at him and the fact that she could never string together a decent sentence around him. This did not stop her from daydreaming about him and watching him from afar. She thought that maybe she could impress him with her dancing, and he would be forced to make a move. Y/N paid close attention to what Nate liked and disliked about girls, leading to religious mani-pedis and waxing. I tried to talk her out of it freshman year, but I can’t blame her for ignoring a junkie’s advice. When Maddy and Nate started dating, Y/N tried to cut off her attraction to Nate because she loved Maddy like a sister. She stopped pining after him but wished that she had a tenth of the confidence Maddy had.

  “That’s it, we’re going to a party on Friday and you are going to meet a guy,” Maddy demanded.

  “What?”

  “Relax, you don’t have to sleep with him…unless you want to.” BB wiggled her eyebrows and Maddy, Cassie, and Kat burst into giggles.

 “I think I can start off with kissing.”

 “Have you even kissed a guy?” BB shot back.

 “Yes, I have.”

 In second grade, Travis Williams was double-dared to kiss Y/N on the playground. She knew that he wasn’t her prince charming since he produced too much saliva, and he was dared to do it. It gave her a weird complex about how attractive she was since no one really approached her. Sure, there were guys at parties but they just wanted something warm to slide into, not a real relationship.

 After practice, Y/N and Maddy sat across from each other with their legs spread out, pulling each other back and forth to stretch.

 “You really went in with this number, my legs are still killing me,” Maddy moaned as Y/N tugged her hands.

  “Well, Alia wants to do something super impressive for homecoming; it’s not my fault she was so inspired by Homecoming.” Y/N relaxed her back while Maddy gently pulled Y/N’s arms towards her.

   She relished in the stretch as her muscles released. Alia had tasked her with working on the homecoming choreography a month ago and the only requirement was it had to be set to Beyoncé’s “Diva/Everybody Mad” mix. It was tricky choreography, complete with acrobatics and lifts, but it would be entertaining.

  “Well, we better do Beyonce well because she deserves nothing but the best.” Maddy’s expression dropped.

  “What’s wrong?” Y/N turned and saw Nate heading towards them. He was so gorgeous even though he was in a black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His hair looked perfect for finger-combing and Y/N could just see his muscles flexing with every step he took.

  Y/N could never relax around Nate, even though she tried everything----slowing her breathing, counting backwards from twenty, and imagining him with food poisoning since no one looks good with that. But nothing worked, nothing ever worked, and she was forced to do whatever she could think of in the moment.

   “Hey, Y/N,” Nate greeted.

   “Hi,” Y/N breathed.

   “Maddy,” he looked at her and Maddy rolled her eyes.

   “What?”

   “Are you done stretching? I’m giving you a ride and we can’t be late, remember?”

   “Well, it doesn’t really matter since I always take too f-cking long to get ready.”

   Nate sighed. “Maddy, I didn’t mean it…”

   “I can go,” Y/N volunteered meekly, suddenly very aware that she was still sweaty from practice and needed to shower.

   “No, Y/N, stay,” Maddy said, “stay so you can hear the bullsh-t he comes up with.”

   They argued for about five minutes, all of which Y/N used to make herself as small as possible. She knew they had a dysfunctional relationship and that was the last thing Y/N wanted, she’d seen how they worked. If the couple weren’t arguing with each other, they would rant about the other person to a friend. Maddy did it all the time, but she was nowhere near as bad as Y/N’s dad. Her dad spoke explicitly about Y/N’s mother’s activities when things were really bad. It was always late at night and Y/N was not always sleeping over at someone’s house. Her father would rant for hours and force Y/N to sit there and listen. Whenever she tried to ask him to stop, he would say, “Tell your mother to stop, she did this. I didn’t do anything!”. Y/N cried a lot more than she would let anyone know. She wanted so badly to be whisked away from East Highland, preferably by a tall, handsome prince who would take care of all of her worries. She would be comfortable around him and feel loved. After Maddy and Nate’s argument, Y/N was able to slip away and go home.

  Y/N stepped out of a relaxing shower when she heard the low rumbling that started before every argument. The walls of her room felt closer than usual and she could easily run her hands over the lavender and white checked wallpaper. Everything felt so far away and she felt much smaller than five-foot-nine. Y/N slowly curled into a ball on her bed and shook as the rumbling grew higher.

  “Please stop,” she whispered.

  It persisted.

  “Please, please stop,” she repeated.

  Y/N kept repeating herself for so long that she did not know how long it took before her parents burst into her room. Her mother wrapped her up in arms and rocked her while her dad tried to get her to talk.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked.

  “The fighting, it’s loud,” she whispered.

  “Well, you can’t react like this every time we have an argument, Y/N. You’ll fall apart as an adult,” Mr. Y/L/N affirmed.

   “Dinner is almost ready,” Mrs. Y/L/N said and kissed her forehead.  

  When they left the room, Y/N felt dejected and uninterested in food. Just as she was about to start lotioning, her phone dinged. It was Maddy.

   Maddy: Football party’s on Friday. UR GOING.

 It wasn’t a difficult decision for Y/N to make. Her parents gave her a generous curfew since Y/N wouldn’t go out every weekend. But her parents didn’t care how she felt so they shouldn’t care about what she did for once. And if they didn’t care, then why should she? It wasn’t like she going to engage in an orgy or something.

   Y/N: You had me at football.

   Scott Callahan’s giant house was filled with smoke and strobing lights on Friday night. People were dancing and drinking half-naked in his front lawn and inside was another kind of pandemonium. There was every kind of expensive alcohol one could imagine scattered throughout the house, marijuana, Percocet, molly, and cocaine. Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode” was blasting through the surround-sound speakers and people were either dancing, grinding, or making out to it. Y/N arrived at the party with Jules and Rue. Hours prior, Y/N gave Jules free reign to do whatever she wanted with her makeup.

 “Ugh, I have been waiting ever since we met for this moment. No, maybe even before then,” Jules said as she swiped silver glitter around Y/N’s eyes.

  Cassie, Maddy, BB, and Kat already helped Y/N pick out an outfit a day before via Facetime: a shiny silver mini dress with platforms. Y/N had been nervous as Jules helped her do her makeup and put some waves in her shoulder-length dark hair. But the finished product made her look like a totally different person.

  “Is that me?” Y/N had whispered as she stared at herself in the mirror.

  Jules rest her chin on Y/N’s shoulder. “Yes, it is, the shinier version.”

  “You look good, Y/N,” Rue complimented.

  “Thanks, Rue. Are you sure you’re okay with me drinking tonight? I feel so weird and guilty.”

  “Yes, it’s fine,” Rue had insisted. “I just got out of rehab and I don’t wanna go back.”

  “And I don’t want you to, either,” Jules added.

  Y/N agreed.

  Y/N still felt weird about drinking around Rue once they arrived at the party,  but Rue insisted that Y/N and Jules have fun. Several guys stared as Y/N walked past, but that could have been attributed to Jules’ neon green corset dress with matching hair or Rue’s tie-dye ensemble. When they reached the kitchen, they found Kat and BB doing tequila shots. Their eyes lit up at the trio.

  “Finally, you’re here!” Kat hugged Rue, Jules, and Y/N.

 “Did you miss us?” Jules teased.

  “Little bit. You guys want a shot?”

  “I’m DD-ing, or DR-ing since it’s a bike,” Rue said.

  “Or DB-ing, for bicycling,” Y/N added.

  BB poured Jules and Y/N shots and handed them over. They cheered before downing the alcohol. The tequila burned down Y/N’s throat and Y/N fought the urge to cough. She’d had alcohol before but she did not drink as often as her friends. Y/N immediately felt the liquid courage coursing through her as she slid her shot glass towards BB.

  “Another one?” BB arched an eyebrow.

 “Are you complaining?”

 “Not at all, you look hot by the way.”

 “Thanks.”

  “I did her makeup,” Jules said.

 Y/N laughed and continued drinking.

  I watched as her third shot became her fifth, and then Jules made them both screwdrivers and she made them strong. I’d only seen Y/N drunk once and that was at freshman winter formal. Maddy convinced her that Gatorade and Everclear were a good mix. She was tripping over herself for most of the night, so there was no telling what she might do.

 “Crap, I forgot to tell you, Maddy and Nate broke up again,” Kat said.

 “Why?” Y/N asked.

 “Stupid same old bullsh-t, probably,” Rue said.

“Where is Maddy, anyway?”

 “Last I knew, she was outside with Cassie,” BB said.

 Y/N finished her screwdriver. “Let’s go, then.”

 Y/N was surprisingly agile as she weaved her way through the crowd and lead the way outside. Maddy and Cassie were easy to spot since they were standing by the lounge chairs and rolling their eyes at every guy who tried to talk to them.

 “Maddy, Cassie!” Y/N announced.

 They both looked up and smiled at her.

 “Y/N, you look amazing,” Cassie said.

 “Thanks, and you look great as per usual.”

 “You’ve been drinking,” Cassie said.

 Y/N nodded.

 Cassie and Maddy greeted Rue, Jules, Kat, and BB.

 “Hey, I’m sorry about Nate,” Y/N said.

  “It’s fine, I don’t need him and I could get any guy here I want. Besides, it gives me the chance to focus more on getting you a guy,” Maddy said.

  “Oh, Maddy, don’t worry about me.”

  “No, that’s why we’re here. Now, let’s do some shots and scope!”

  The shots were easy but finding a good guy was not. Y/N was officially drunk and giggled a lot whenever the guys Maddy or Cassie found spoke to her. Y/N would push the guys she didn’t like away, which was the majority of them.

 “Alright, you rejected eight dudes, why?” Maddy asked over City Girls’ “Act Up”.

  “Well, one had horrible halitsosissss and another kept talking about how he had never been with a black girl before.”

  “Which one said the last thing?” Cassie asked.

  Y/N shrugged and drank more beer. “Seriously, do not worry about me, guys, I’m fine, I just wanna have fun.”

 “Yes, fun!” an equally inebriated Jules commented.

 At that moment, Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” started playing and Jules and Y/N screamed in unison.

 “I love this song!” Y/N exclaimed.

 “Me too!” Jules said.

 “Let’s dance!” Y/N turned to the rest of the girls and extended her hand. “You have to join us, it’s Lizzo, it’s basically law.”

 “Yeah, basically law,” Jules echoed.

 The others couldn’t argue, and they all moved to the dancefloor, which was really the living room. Jules twirled Rue around even though Rue was reluctant, and BB started grinding on some basketball player. Meanwhile, Maddy, Cassie, and Y/N alternated between shouting the lyrics and moving their hips to the beat.

 Dance truly set Y/N free, but the song also helped. There was something about Lizzo’s voice and choice of beat that made Y/N want to dance and never stop. She would move her arms and hands and feel more fluid than water. For once, she wasn’t calculating each step and making sure she was on beat, she was simply reacting to the music.

 Towards the end of the song, Y/N muttered that she was going outside to Cassie and slipped away from the circle. Y/N found herself enjoying the fresh air and giggled to herself when she saw a couple going to second base by the pool.

 “Y/N, I didn’t think you was into watchin’ people,” Fez teased.

 He was sitting on a beach chair in a corner a few yards away from the back door. He was wearing a navy, yellow, and red Coogi sweater with jeans. He was fully reclined in his chair and smoking a joint.

 “You don’t know a lot of things about me,” Y/N shot back as she walked towards him.

 She plopped down on the seat across from him and tried to steady herself.

 “You good, Y/N?”

 “Yeah, just drank a lot more than usual.” Y/N eyed Fez’s joint. “You know, in all this time I’ve known you, you’ve never offered me drugs.”

 “No disrespect, I just didn’t think you’d be into it, didn’t seem like the type.”

 “Oh yeah? Then what do I seem like?” Y/N leaned towards Fez and arched her back a little.

 Fez blew some smoke away from Y/N and tried not to stare at her. “You…you look like the type to stay away from this stuff and even me.”

  Y/N laughed and shooed the thought away. “How could I stay away from you, Fez? You have the best snacks at the gas station. Plus, I like talking to you.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah, you have an interesting but simple way of looking at things.”

 Fez looked as though he was thinking for a long moment as he smoked his joint. “I knew I liked you for a reason. You act all quiet and nervous usually but you got a lot to say and say it in a good way.” He extended the joint towards Y/N. “Be careful.”

 Y/N focused as hard as she could to grab the joint with two fingers. She’d only smoked once with Rue and Rue was the one to drag her over to Fezco to get the weed. Y/N remembered coughing a lot, but she knew how to avoid that. She took two long drags before handing the joint back to Fez.

 “Thanks, Fez. We should talk more later.”

 “Sure, if you feelin’ up to it. I’m here all night.”

 Y/N stumbled back into the house, her full intentions to find her friends. Then, she heard the beginning strains of Kanye West’s “Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1” and she smiled to herself. She started spinning around in time to the music, twisting her arms up and down as she did. Her hips began to sway gently to the rhythm. She ran her hands through her hair and exhaled.

 Y/N was lost again and wrapped up in the beat. She usually did not drop low outside of the comfort of her bedroom, but the alcohol mixed with the weed mixed with the great music made her think differently. She was free and everyone else around her was free. There was nothing to worry about and she could let go of her inhibitions. It didn’t matter that none of the guys at the party were her type nor really interested her, she was having too much fun. But little did Y/N know that someone had their eye on her since she started dancing to “Truth Hurts”.

 Y/N felt someone push up against her from behind, followed by hands slink around her hips. Her eyes fluttered open and she covered the large hands with her own. “Sorry, I don’t----" She stopped when she made eye contact with Nate. “I’m high,” she muttered.

 “I don’t know about that, but you’ve definitely been drinking.”

 Y/N tried to ignore the way his gravelly voice made her stomach drop to her heels or how she felt like everything was throbbing. She shook her head and backed away from him. “I can’t…you just broke up with Maddy.”

 “Y/N, please don’t.” Nate looked worried as he took cautious steps towards her.

 Unbeknownst to Y/N, and everyone else, Nate had a fascination with her that bordered on obsession. He noticed her in fourth grade and how much she got excited about reading and history lessons. Even then, Nate thought Y/N was innocent and so quiet. He was curious about her but never really approached her until that day in gym. That day was a godsend so that he could show off how strong he was and get her to talk. All he got was a “Thanks” and “I’m okay”. Nate was disappointed, but he didn’t stop looking out for her. He made sure none of the football players went after her, which McKay appreciated but he thought Nate was doing it as a friend. No, Nate was doing it because he knew that football players were animals and Y/N was high above them. Maddy was too but Maddy was different .She was so much more confident and bold than Y/N was, and she was a virgin when Nate asked her out. But Maddy liked to fight with him and test him and Y/N wouldn’t do that----she was too sweet and would most likely want to resolve everything as quickly as possible. So, she was unofficially his and Y/N had no idea.

 Y/N kept shaking her head as tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t do this, Maddy’s like a sister to me.”

“Y/N, breathe, please.” Nate took another step and when Y/N didn’t move, he got close enough to grab her forearms and rub them soothingly. “You’re allowed to dance with me, all we did was dance.”

 “That was not dancing, I’m a dancer, I would know.” Y/N tilted her head back to will the tears away.

 “You look beautiful, seriously. Don’t cry.” He tried to touch her face, but Y/N backed away.

 “Thank you, but I think we should stop talking.”

 “You always look beautiful, especially when your hair is down, it frames your face nicely.” He brushed some hair off her shoulder.

 “Nate, stop.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

 “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 “I know you’re doing this to make Maddy jealous, it’s what you always do, it’s the same game!” Y/N cried, but it was masked by the music. “I’m…I’m not going to be your pawn in this weird game, Nate. I deserve better than that.”

 Nate reached out and cupped the side of her face in one hand. “Oh, Y/N, you would never be a pawn and I’m not playing with you. Maddy’s not gonna care if you dance with me, she’s not even here.”

 Y/N glanced around the room and didn’t see Maddy anywhere. She suddenly got a sinking feeling and looked back at Nate. “I’m just not comfortable with doing anything with you, she’s my friend.”

 “And I would never want to ruin that and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable; I just wanted a chance to dance with the prettiest girl at the party.”  

 Y/N snapped her eyes to him. “You think I’m the prettiest girl here?”

 Nate nodded. “But if you don’t want to dance with me…”

 “Fine, one dance.” Y/N held up her pointer finger for emphasis. “And we’re done.”

 “Deal.”

 “Good.”

 The song changed to “One Dance” and Y/N was stiff for a moment. She never really did partner dancing and was lost. Nate sensed this, grabbed one of her hands, and spun her around. She laughed and swiveled her hips to the beat. Nate continued twirling her around and watched Y/N move to the music. When he spun her out again, Nate pulled her back in and held her close. Y/N did everything in her power to fight to gnawing desire to melt into his embrace. He felt so strong and protective. Y/N stared at the collar of his t-shirt to avoid eye contact and kept her hands on his chest.

  “This isn’t fair,” she whispered.

  “What isn’t fair?”   “I’ve had a crush on you since elementary school and the time you decide you want me, it’s just after your break up with one of my best friends.” Y/N buried her head in her hands. “I’m such a bad friend, I should go.”

 Nate held her there and stared her down. “Go and do what?”

 “Um, find my friends.”

“And then what?”

“Dance?”

“Just like you’re dancing with me?”

 “No, not this close and you know that.” Y/N stepped back. “We should stop.”

 “But, you said you’ve liked me for a long time.”

 “I did, but I want to be a good friend. I’m sorry, Nate.”

Y/N really didn’t want to, but she pulled away from Nate. She couldn’t believe she’d spent a whole song dancing so close with her friend’s ex. Maddy would kill her if she found out. Maybe if Y/N told her first, things would not be as bad.

“If we can’t dance, can we at least talk?”

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly.

Nate grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. A few coked out people and couples pushed past them and Y/N felt more and more nervous. They found an empty bedroom and Nate closed the door behind them. The room was dark and Y/N found a light.

 “So, what did you want to talk about?” she made herself comfortable on the bed.

Nate sat next to her and clasped his hands together. “Things with Maddy and me have always been f-ckin’ crazy and they will always be. She always wants to fight when there shouldn’t be a fight.”

“If you wanted to complain to someone about your ex, you could have found someone who wasn’t her friend.”

 “Stop, what I’m saying is I don’t like it, it’s exhausting, and…and we bring out the worst in each other. But you, I don’t think you would do that to me.” He glanced down at Y/N’s hands. “You’re kind and you want the best for everyone.”

 “I try.”

“You would never want to hurt anyone on purpose and you listen, you really listen, and I feel like I could tell you anything.”

 Y/N nodded.

 “The truth is, I’ve liked you since fourth grade too, but I never asked you out because you seemed disinterested.”

 “How’d you get that?”

 “Whenever I tried to talk to you, you wouldn’t talk and I thought that meant you didn’t like me. So, I started going out with Maddy because she was clear about that, but now, I think we could be something.”

 “Just like that? But what about my friends? Maddy and I have the same friends and I don’t want to hurt Maddy.”

“You can make new friends and you’ll have me.” Nate leaned closer to Y/N. “C’mon, Y/N, you know you want this. You’re always thinking of other people, be selfish for once.”

 In that strange bedroom, with the guy she had been crushing on for so long begging her to do something to him, Y/N was at an impasse. She loved Maddy like a sister and didn’t want to divide the group, but Nate was making so many good points. The only reason she did well in school was to please her parents and the only reason she would go out was to please her friends. She didn’t do anything to please herself and this was her chance.

Nate leaned closer to Y/N and looked up at her for confirmation. Y/N closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of Nate’s lips against hers. They were slightly chapped but he knew how to use them, applying pressure in the right places at the right times. His hands went to her waist and Y/N wrapped hers around his neck. He slid her into his lap and Y/N gasped.

 “Did I scare you?” he whispered.

 “A little,” Y/N murmured.

 He rubbed her sides and kept kissing her, adding tongue. Y/N shyly tapped her tongue against his and he smirked into it. He rolled his hips underneath her and Y/N gasped at the shocking feeling, pulling away.

 “Does it feel good?”

 Y/N nodded.

 “Say it.”

 “Yes.”

 “Yes, what?”

 “Yes, it feels good.”

 Nate nipped at her neck and Y/N moaned out, grinding down on him. Nate’s hands tensed around her hips. “You’re so hot,” he whispered in her ear.

 Y/N laughed.

 “Seriously, I’ve thought about what this would be like, what we would be like.”

 “And?”

 “And, so far, it’s better than I thought.” He kissed down to her collarbone and palmed her chest. “I’ve thought about these.”  “Really? But they’re so small.”

 “No, they’re just right.” He bit the base of her neck and Y/N hissed. “I’ve also thought about your legs, how they distract me during practice when you guys are outside. They’re so soft but firm.”

  Nate kissed her again and pinned her on the bed. Y/N gasped as she felt one of Nate’s hands trail up her dress. Her mind was jumbled up and she didn’t know what to think. Everything he did felt so good, he knew just where to kiss and nip. He looked at her with full-blown lust in his eyes. Maybe Y/N had finally found the prince she’d been waiting for, but he was always there.

 Then, his hand went a little too high. She squirmed and shook her head.

 “Nate, that’s a little too much.”

 “What?”

 “I said it’s a little too much,” she repeated louder.

 “I thought you liked it, don’t you want this? Isn’t this what you’ve always thought about?” Nate tangled his hand in her underwear.

 “Nate, stop, I don’t want to do this.”

 “You weren’t acting that way earlier.”

 “Nate, please, stop.”

 “You don’t want me to stop.”

 “Yes, I do, please!”

  Y/N tried to push him away but Nate pinned her down. He rolled his hips into hers and Y/N turned away, tears falling down her cheeks.

 “Do you feel how much I want you? I’d do just about anything to have you.”

 “Nate, stop!”

 “Shut up!” Nate growled.

 One of his hands let go of her wrist and wrapped around her neck. He had a death grip on her neck and Y/N started gasping for air.

 “Don’t pretend like you didn’t want this? Like you weren’t dancing on me, begging for it? You were jealous that Maddy got me whenever she wanted. You wanted me all for yourself just like I want you.”

  Y/N wanted to scream at him, tell him he was wrong about everything, but was he? When Maddy talked about sex with him, Y/N would feel pangs of guilt and jealousy for wanting to trade places with her. Most of all, she wanted Nate to get off her. She wanted Nate to leave her alone forever. When she looked at him, the sweet fourth grade boy was gone and replaced by a full grown monster. Why was she getting monsters when she wanted princes? What did she do to deserve this?

  Nate unzipped his jeans and tears kept flowing down Y/N’s face, ruining Jules’ masterpiece. He kept his eyes trained on her and Y/N was losing oxygen, she couldn’t think to move any of her muscles. Just as he was about to push in her, someone banged on the door.

 “Occupied!” Nate yelled over his shoulder.

 “Whatever.”

 Nate turned back and looked down at Y/N, shaking and crying. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.”  He released his grasp on her neck and pinned her wrists again. Y/N’s throat felt numb and she couldn’t do anything. She inhaled through her nose and before Nate could thrust, she took gathered all her strength to knee him. Nate groaned and rolled onto his side, releasing her wrists. Y/N scrambled to her feet, unlocked the door, and ran outside. People in the hallway looked at her bewildered. Y/N nearly fell down the stairs and ran into Rue.

 “Y/N, what happened?” she asked.

 Y/N gasped for a moment before burying her face in Rue’s shoulder and crying, full-on, heaving, shoulder-shaking crying. Rue held her close and ran her hands through her hair. “Nate,” was the only word she managed to get out.

 Before Rue could only see Red, Fez approached them. “Hey, I’m about to head out if you wanted a ride. What’s up?”

 “I think Nate tried to do something to Y/N,” Rue whispered. “Y/N, could you look at me?”

 Y/N straightened up and Rue and Fezco saw the handprints around her neck. Both of their expressions hardened.

 “Where’s Maddy, Cassie, and Jules?” Rue asked.

 “Right here,” Maddy said as they approached. Her eyes widened at Y/N. “Y/N, what the f-ck happened?”

 Y/N swallowed but winced at the feeling. “Nate tried to rape me,” she rasped out.

 In an instant, Fez and Rue handed Y/N over to Cassie, Maddy, and Jules. Y/N collapsed in their arms and continued crying.

 “Honey, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” Cassie said.

 “Breathe, Y/N, you need to breathe,” Jules muttered.

  “I’m so sorry, Maddy, I’m so sorry,” Y/N said.

  “No, don’t apologize,” Maddy insisted, stroking Y/N’s hair.

  They cleared a couch for Y/N to rest and they continued trying to comfort her. A few seconds later, Nate came tumbling down the stairs, with Rue and Fezco on his heels. Rue was cursing at him while Fezco laid more punches on him. Nate’s face was already bruised and scratched up.

 “It’s not my fault!” Nate spat out. “I told you, she came onto me, she’s been in love with me since fourth grade, she wanted this! Maddy, Y/N’s a bad friend, that’s not my fault.”

 “Don’t even talk to me right now or I swear, Rue and Fezco will have to keep me from killing you,” Maddy hissed.  

 “I’m a bad friend,” Y/N whimpered.

 “No, you’re not,” Maddy, Cassie, and Jules said.

 “I liked him a lot, even when you dated, I liked him and then he…he came onto me, maybe I deserved it.”

 “Y/N, no one deserves to get raped, no one, you did not ask for this,” Jules assured her.

  Y/N turned to lay face up. “Why does everything hurt so much? I just wanted someone to like me since loving me is asking for too much.”

  “No, it’s not,” Cassie hushed.

  “And we love you,” Maddy said.

  “I love you the most,” Jules said.

 Y/N smiled slightly. “But you know what I mean.”

 Y/N loved her friends and appreciated their love, but she wanted the fairytale. She’d convinced herself that maybe she would get some idea of that with Nate but she was so wrong. She wanted the dream and got a nightmare. It was a terrible f-cking way to learn how real life works, but it had to happen. Besides, we’re in high school and the love Y/N truly wanted was impossible to find in high school, especially East Highland. Y/N ended up pressing charges on Nate and that encouraged Maddy to open up about stuff he’d done to her during their relationship. Everything is different with Y/N now, I can see it in her eyes, they aren’t as bright as they used to be. Before the stuff with her mom, they would shimmer and after that, some glints remained. Now, it was like looking in a dark hole and I could guess what she was feeling since I’ve been in that place too----in fact, I’m still in it. I think the saddest part is she always had so much optimism and now it’s gone before she’s twenty and I don’t think she’ll get it back.

[gleekto]

Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA,  and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2

Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

LimaBlaineFan: Spoiler alert - My source is back. He is going to be meeting Blaine tonight.

After Wednesday’s official announcement that Blaine Anderson had been cast as Rachel’s musically talented but romantically challenged love interest, Colin Red, on That’s So Rachel, Kurt’s followers jumped again. 331 more this time. It’s the credibility surge - not that he’d ever be a troll. 

Kurt realizes he’s in a potentially problematic position, with one foot venturing into the real life filming world of Blaine Anderson, and his other foot firmly in the fantastical world of fandom. He realizes that he could end up in a conflict of interest,  or with inside information that he clearly can’t share or worse, that he accidentally does. But who’s he kidding? He’s just been gifted a fan’s dream ticket of a non-fandom interaction with his celebrity crush. Yeah there might be consequences, but for now Kurt plans to enjoy having his cake and eating it too.

Kurt puts the finishing touches on his cocktail party outfit - layered blacks and greys for the cool fall day with a perfectly fitted long jacket. Sophisticated without looking like he’s trying too hard to impress very impressive company.

“Kurt, you ready?” Rachel is already halfway out the door as he grabs his phone and notices the red private message alert beside the growing notes on his “my source is going to meet Blaine” post.

MercedesSing!: It’s you, isn’t it? You remember that I know that Rachel Berry is your roommate, right?

Kurt types quickly as he exits the apartment. Can’t talk now with a winky emoji. 

...

The cocktail party for the cast of That’s So Rachel isn’t exactly what Kurt was expecting. With Patti and Barbra, he expected glitz and glamour, unlimited martinis, caviar, and free air pods in an obnoxious swag bag. Instead, there is some nice red wine, hot dogs in a blanket, fried mushrooms on a stick, and a take home cookie with a cartoon face of a smiling Rachel Cherry. Low key and almost relaxed. And he will definitely enjoy biting off Rachel’s head.

Kurt relaxes at the less intense than expected atmosphere, and manages to be an excellent plus one for Rachel’s idols turned TV moms. He and Rachel are so engaged discussing the brilliance of a gender reversed ‘Company’ with Patti, and his own lauded rendition of Rose’s Turn from his high school Glee club, that he almost forgets that Blaine Anderson is coming. Almost. 

When Patti is called over to meet one of the executives, and he and Rachel are left with a cone of appetizer fries in hand by the wine bar, he starts to get nervous. His eyes wander, trying not to search but definitely searching. There’s Jesse St. James who is playing Rachel’s music teacher talking to the showrunner. There are the friendly hair and makeup gang over by the couches. Rachel points out another couple of young women who will be playing Rachel’s friends. But no Blaine Anderson. Kurt tries not to look distracted.

“Rachel, hey!”

Just from the voice Kurt knows.

“Oh Blaine, hi,” Rachel turns around to a smiling and wow really quite perfectly dressed Blaine Anderson, approaching from the back door. 

“Sorry I’m late. I just had to finish up filming before running home for a quick shower.”

“Great to see you. We were just-”

“That is a really great outfit. Especially the shoes.” The words just fall out of Kurt’s mouth as he swings on the balls of his feet. Could he make a more awkward first impression? He apparently can’t keep his mouth shut when it comes to red shiny shoes perfectly matched with a soft red cardigan, skinny tie and jeans that fit just so. Somehow Blaine is even more warm and gorgeous in-person and wow, does he have style. Which Kurt appreciates - unfortunately, out loud.

“Oh. Thank you.” Blaine looks slightly surprised but not put off by Kurt’s over enthusiasm. “I could say the same to you,” Blaine grins now, eyeing Kurt’s grey sweater-blazer, which does look great, Kurt admits. He feels like the fanboy at Comicon. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Blaine says. “I’m Blaine Anderson.” He extends his hand.

I know, Kurt thinks, smiling dumbly. I know. “I’m Rachel’s roommate.” Kurt shakes his hand - warm, soft, firm. Of course he would have a firm handshake. Kurt keeps smiling, hoping he’s being polite, but there’s an awkward silence.

“Kurt,” Rachel adds. “This is my roommate, Kurt Hummel.” Great. He forgot to say his name. Nothing like a first impression.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.” He knows that people in fandom who have had the luck to meet Blaine in person have said it, but he can now verify that Blaine really is good at that eye contact thing. His eyes are focused right on him and Kurt is sure he will drown. Kurt nods, trying not to seem like he’s staring. “How did you two meet?”

Rachel looks at Kurt, waiting for him to speak, probably because Blaine is looking at him, and not at Rachel. When he doesn’t say anything, Rachel eventually chimes in. “We went to high school together in Lima, Ohio-”

“The thriving metropolis,” Kurt manages to snap out of his stupor to give a shout out to his hick hometown. Blaine nods, laughing. He’s still looking at him.

“I know what you mean.”

“You do?” 

“I’m from Ohio, too. Westerville.” Kurt knows that. “Not exactly the best place for a wannabe actor to grow up.” Blaine went to the prestigious Dalton Academy - also known as the gay Hogwarts of the Midwest. And he is absolutely not going to ask him about that.

“Fair,” Kurt replies, still smiling like a starstruck fanboy. He is a starstruck fanboy. And before Blaine notices, or worse, before he says something stupid, he figures he should exit while he’s ahead - leaving no damage in case they actually do meet again. “It was nice to meet you, Blaine and I’ll leave you two to talk shop. My glass is empty and  I’m going to get another red while the line is short.”

Kurt takes a deep breath while he waits in line. Conversation completed and no harm done. Rachel and Blaine are talking animatedly about something or other and he has a moment to breathe as he makes his way to the bartender, “Merlot, s’il vous plait?”

“You speak French?” Kurt turns to see a once again grinning Blaine Anderson, who has somehow appeared behind him in line. What? 

“Me?”

Blaine gives him a quizzical look. “You did just speak French to the bartender, right?”

“Oh! Oh yeah, of course. I don’t really speak. I just took French in high school.”

“A Corona please,” Blaine asks the same bartender as Kurt turns to walk away, red wine in hand, “Hey Kurt. Wait up.” Kurt freezes. Okay. “Cheers,” Blaine says as he chinks his beer bottle to Kurt’s wine glass. “Sometimes it’s nice to just have a drink and chill at these events, you know?” Blaine leans into him so he can hear what he’s saying in the noise of the crowd. “It’s a lot of industry people and a lot of being on. They’re great. Don’t get me wrong. But it takes a lot of focus to say all the right things to Patti Lupone.”

“Oh my god, I know. I just met her.” Kurt agrees. “I’m studying at LAADA so Rachel wanted to make sure I made the connection-”

“You’re at LAADA? That’s awesome. Such a great school,” Blaine knocks into his side.  “You know if I hadn’t gotten my part on Sing!-” Kurt keeps his face neutral, “I would have gone into musical theatre. Did you do Glee Club with Rachel?”

“She’s already told you about Glee?” Kurt says.  “Guilty. We weren’t exactly the top of the social pyramid at a football crazed school in Lima, Ohio.”

“I was in Glee club in Westerville, too, way back when. Dalton Academy?”

“Oh yeah,” Kurt nods nonchalantly. “The Warblers, right? I think we competed against them a couple of times two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Blaine nods fondly. “We were strangely revered by the boys at the school but Dalton was still very much an old boys’ club in the middle of Ohio. It’s not the progressive mecca some may think it is.”

“I may have heard a rumour-” Kurt pauses.

“Yeah, no. It’s not the gay Hogwarts,” Blaine makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Not when I was there at least. I was out but I never had a boyfriend until I moved to LA.” How can he be having this conversation? “But then I got Sing! and you know, dating wasn’t so easy.”

“It wasn’t?” Because Kurt is pretty sure that there would be boys literally lining  up for a chance at a date with fandom’s most eligible sweetheart.

“No,” Blaine shrugs. “It’s really hard to meet people when you’re on a show like that, you know? Constantly in the spotlight, or in the selfie camera. It becomes hard to distinguish between fan and friend.” Kurt’s eyebrows rise. “And with that schedule on Sing!  - I was too busy for anything serious, anyways.” Kurt nods keeping his face as flat as possible while his heart beats out of his chest, hoping Blaine can’t hear it over the background music. “I should apologize. I’m doing all the talking. What about you, Kurt? Do you have a boyfriend?”

What.

“Who me?” Kurt is taken aback. The combination of the very chill and bizarrely intimate conversation he’s having with Blaine Celebrity-of-My-Dreams Anderson, while being casually asked about his (non-existent) love life, the assumption that he’s gay and could be taken so obvious and ordinary, makes him feel like he’s in the Twilight Zone. He is in the Twilight Zone - he is talking about his love life with Blaine Anderson. He needs to compose himself. “Oh no. No no. Like you said, small town Ohio is not exactly a gay mecca. Just swinging and single,” Kurt says awkwardly. He knows he’s beet red but Blaine bites his lower lip and his smile gets wider. 

“Blaine!” Jesse St. James from across the room, beckons him over. “Come here. Meet Joan Silver - she’s the executive producer.” Blaine looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“I’m being summoned,” Blaine says and Kurt nods, still feeling surreal. Blaine reaches out and squeezes Kurt’s upper arm, “Really nice to meet you,” He winks,  “Rachel’s roommate.”