#SWAM Certified Business
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Empowering Growth: The Advantages of Being a SWaM Certified Business
Becoming a SWaM (Small, Women-owned, and Minority-owned Business) certified business is a powerful step for entrepreneurs looking to expand their market reach and boost their business credibility. This certification is particularly valuable for small businesses owned by women and minorities, providing them with numerous opportunities and resources. In this blog post, we will delve into what it means to be a SWaM certified business, the certification process, and the myriad benefits it offers.
What is a SWaM Certified Business?
A SWaM certified business is one that has been recognized as a Small, Women-owned, and Minority-owned Business by the relevant certifying authority. This certification is aimed at promoting the growth and success of these businesses by providing them with better access to state and local government contracting opportunities. To qualify, a business must meet specific criteria, including being independently owned and operated, and meeting the Small Business Administration (SBA) size standards.
The process of becoming a SWaM certified business involves a detailed application and review process. Applicants must provide comprehensive information about their business operations, ownership, and financial status. This thorough evaluation ensures that only eligible businesses receive the certification, thereby maintaining the program’s integrity. For businesses that successfully obtain SWaM certification, the rewards are substantial, including increased access to government contracts and enhanced market visibility.
The Certification Process
The journey to becoming a SWaM certified business begins with understanding the eligibility requirements. The business must be at least 51% owned and controlled by one or more women, minorities, or individuals who qualify as economically disadvantaged. Additionally, the business must meet the SBA’s size standards, which vary by industry.
Once eligibility is confirmed, the application process involves gathering and submitting extensive documentation, such as business licenses, financial statements, and proof of ownership. The certifying authority will conduct a thorough review of these documents, which may include site visits and interviews to verify the information provided. Although the process is rigorous, it is designed to ensure that only businesses that genuinely meet the criteria receive certification. For those who succeed, the benefits can be transformative, offering a competitive edge in the marketplace.
Benefits of Being a SWaM Certified Business
Obtaining SWaM certification offers numerous advantages. One of the most significant benefits is increased access to government contracts. State and local governments have procurement goals that include a percentage of contracts awarded to SWaM certified businesses. This gives certified businesses a better chance of securing lucrative contracts that might otherwise be out of reach.
Another key benefit is the enhancement of the business’s credibility and reputation. Being SWaM certified signals to potential clients and partners that the business meets high standards of reliability and integrity. This can lead to increased business opportunities, not just with government entities but also with private companies that prioritize diversity in their supply chains. Additionally, certification can open doors to networking opportunities through various programs and events designed to support SWaM certified businesses.
How SWaM Certification Can Drive Business Growth
SWaM certification can be a catalyst for significant business growth. With greater access to government contracts and enhanced credibility, SWaM certified businesses can experience substantial increases in revenue and market presence. Moreover, certification often comes with access to a wealth of resources and support services, such as business development programs, mentoring, and financial assistance.
These resources are designed to help SWaM certified businesses improve their operations, expand their capabilities, and compete more effectively in the marketplace. The growth opportunities provided by SWaM certification can be profound, laying the foundation for long-term success and sustainability. For many businesses, certification represents not just a mark of distinction, but a strategic tool for driving growth and achieving their business goals.
Conclusion
In conclusion, achieving SWaM certification is a valuable step for small, women-owned, and minority-owned businesses. The certification process may be detailed and rigorous, but the benefits, including increased access to government contracts, enhanced credibility, and growth opportunities, make it well worth the effort. For businesses like AMS Networks LLC, SWaM certification is more than just a recognition; it is a gateway to unlocking new opportunities and fostering long-term success.
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Chapter 16: WE MEET THE DRAGON OF ETERNAL BAD BREATH
"So you will not be detecting a hint of minty freshness?" Magnus grinned. He didn't even freak out this time there was going to be a dragon.
"I'll give Grover mad props if he tries to seduce the dragon," Alex nodded along, scrutinizing the book in her hands and wondering how detailed this thing was going to be if the dragon ate someone, or fell for the goats sweat talk. Either way, she was excited to find out.
"I swear you two are certifiable," Percy said in exasperation, mildly concerned why Alex was trying to set his best friend up after his last disastrous date with Polyphemus.
"Hopefully its rank breath is its main attack, which means it can't breathe fire?" Jason offered. Thalia thought it was adorable how optimistic that was but decided not to tell him that.
"We will never make it," Zoe said. "We are moving too slow. But we cannot leave the Ophiotaurus."
"Mooo," Bessie said.
"He was probably agreeing he didn't want to get left behind again," Will nodded for the poor thing. "I bet he's been mad offended this whole trip Percy never traveled with him before this."
"Do I want to know where he'd take me?" Percy asked wearily. Was Bessie going to drag him off to the alter where he was supposed to be sacrificed for his big choice?
He swam next to me as we jogged along the waterfront. We'd left the shopping center pier far behind. We were heading toward the Golden Gate Bridge, but it was a lot farther than I'd realized. The sun was already dipping in the west.
"I don't get it," I said. "Why do we have to get there at sunset?"
"The Hesperides are the nymphs of the sunset," Zoe said. "We can only enter their garden as day changes to night."
"I wish more doors had physical limits like that," Alex grinned. "Reinforced business hours."
"The rush would be mad though," Magnus imagined actual murder going on rather than the occasional trampling to get to those sales. Alex, of course, didn't seem very concerned about that part.
"What happens if we miss it?"
Thalia gave Percy the concerned and very confused stare she hadn't managed at the time while running. Like he didn't know the answer to that?
Percy grimaced. "I was hoping she'd say something nice for once, like oh, we can sneak in through the backdoor."
"The girl who has never once started a sentence with the good news?" Thalia confirmed.
"I was being optimistic for her," Percy sighed.
"Tomorrow is winter solstice. If we miss sunset tonight, we would have to wait until tomorrow evening. And by then, the Olympian Council will be over. We must free Lady Artemis tonight."
Or Annabeth will be dead, I thought, but I didn't say that.
He didn't have to. The painful squirming number he did in his seat said it for him. It was quite possible he was being attacked by an invisible assailant and just wasn't screaming out loud.
"We need a car," Thalia said.
"But what about Bessie?" I asked.
"Would he shrink to fit in a cat carrier?" Alex asked seriously.
"I vote we don't bring the world destroying cow-serpent to their front door," Jason frowned.
"I think he goes wherever he wants," Magnus uneasily reminded.
Grover stopped in his tracks. "I've got an idea! The Ophiotaurus can appear in different bodies of water, right?"
"Well, yeah," I said. "I mean, he was in Long Island Sound. Then he just popped into the water at Hoover Dam. And now he's here."
"Could he just pop you over to where the entrance is?" Magnus asked with a frown. "Isn't it a little dangerous to be taking him to where Luke is going to be? I'm assuming it's not just a child of the big three that can use his entrails."
"We don't even attempt to try that," Thalia promised.
"So maybe we could coax him back to Long Island Sound," Grover said. "Then Chiron could help us get him to Olympus."
Jason studied the book with unease. "Is it really a good idea to send Bessie to Olympus?" He didn't think it was entirely his instinctive distrust of these gods that made that sound like a bad idea.
"Do you have any other ideas?" Percy asked, clearly frazzled and still stuck on the other major time limit. "I don't think my mom can keep him in the bathtub for long!" His dad would know what to do with Bessie, he was sure of that.
Jason let it go, for now, with more pressing matters on the horizon, but he he was worried what would happen about this later.
"But he was following me." I said. "If I'm not there, would he know where he's going?"
"Moo," Bessie said forlornly.
"I... I can show him," Grover said. "I'll go with him."
I stared at him. Grover was no fan of the water. He'd almost drowned last summer in the Sea of Monsters, and he couldn't swim very well with his goat hooves.
"Goats can swim just fine," Alex said with a weird amount of confidence, as if she spent a lot of time at the Y in more kinds of kid swimming classes than they had.
"Maybe it's his different anatomy that makes it a tad difficult," Percy suggested. He'd offered to chill with him in the Long Island Sound a few times to get his confidence back last summer and Grover had barely wanted to get his hooves in the sand, let alone near the water, so Percy had quickly let it go.
"I'm the only one who can talk to him," Grover said. "It makes sense."
"Technically we can all talk to him," Will grinned, "we just can't tell what Bessie's saying back."
"And here I thought ASL could be a good universal language," Jason looked legitimately like he was pouting over there he'd never get a chance to talk to the cow.
He bent down and said something in Bessie's ear. Bessie shivered, then made a contented, lowing sound.
"The blessing of the Wild," Grover said.
"So he can use that on himself!" Jason blurted, before breaking out into snickers.
"He's a wild animal at parties only," Percy grinned along.
"Grover's going to shove his reed pipes through your ears," Thalia promised the two idiots.
"That should help with safe passage. Percy, pray to your dad, too. See if he will grant us safe passage through the seas."
I didn't understand how they could possibly swim back to Long Island from California. Then again, monsters didn't travel the same way as humans. I'd seen plenty evidence of that.
Nico winced and was now very glad Percy didn't know about his ability to shadow travel. Just one more thing Percy could associate with him being creepy and weird.
I tried to concentrate on the waves, the smell of the ocean, the sound of the tide.
"Dad," I said. "Help us. Get the Ophiotaurus and Grover safely to camp. Protect them at sea."
"A prayer like that needs a sacrifice," Thalia said. "Something big."
I thought for a second. Then I took off my coat.
Thalia couldn't help an uneasy feeling at him using the Nemon Lion fur, even though she knew it all worked out. It had already saved Percy's life once, it was very valuable indeed to pass muster for this prayer, but she was more selfish than him and wished he'd kept it to keep her friend safe.
"Percy," Grover said. "Are you sure? That lion skin... that's really helpful. Hercules used it!"
As soon as he said that, I realized something.
I glanced at Zoe, who was watching me carefully. I realized I did know who Zoe's hero had been—the one who'd ruined her life, gotten her kicked out of her family, and never even mentioned how she'd helped him: Hercules, a hero I'd admired all my life.
"Because his life is crappier than yours," Nico recalled with a smile. "Never his attire."
"Or his personality," Percy agreed with a sharp look at the book. He hoped if he ever ruined someone's life like that Thalia wouldn't hesitate to jab him with a bow and arrow to remind him.
Nico sighed to himself even when he said something Percy agreed with he couldn't get a smile out of him.
"If I'm going to survive," I said, "it won't be because I've got a lion-skin cloak. I'm not Hercules."
"Oh that was obvious from the start," Alex grinned in a way that didn't make Percy feel better. "You'd never be enough of a lady's man to convince Zoe to betray her family for you."
"Thanks, it's what I've always strived for," Percy sighed.
I threw the coat into the bay. It turned back into a golden lion skin, flashing in the light. Then, as it began to sink beneath the waves, it seemed to dissolve into sunlight on the water.
"What would happen if Poseidon didn't accept the sacrifice?" Magnus asked. "Would he spit it back at you covered in algae?"
Hopefully, the answer wasn't drown Grover, Percy kept to himself as the awkward silence hung. Nobody really wanted to know the real answer.
The sea breeze picked up.
Grover took a deep breath. "Well, no time to lose."
He jumped in the water and immediately began to sink. Bessie glided next to him and let Grover take hold of his neck.
"Be careful," I told them.
"We will," Grover said. "Okay, um... Bessie? We're going to Long Island. It's east. Over that way."
"Moooo?" Bessie said.
"Yes," Grover answered. "Long Island. It's this island. And... it's long.
"Who needs a map when you have a satyr," Percy said proudly.
"You two officially share everything, an empathy link, a brain cell," Jason chuckled.
Oh, let's just start."
"Mooo!"
Bessie lurched forward. He started to submerge and Grover said, "I can't breathe underwater! Just thought I'd mention—" Glub!
"Not the final words anyone should have," Nico muttered. He liked the memory he had of Grover introducing himself at Westover. It was real, and those cheese enchiladas weren't bad.
Under they went, and I hoped my father's protection would extend to little things, like breathing.
"Hopefully that wasn't a bonus sacrifice we had to give extra for or something," Percy muttered. "I'm all out of bull intestines."
"I'm sure he will, he made those pearls airproof through the ocean," Jason reminded.
"If Oceanus can remember I've got faith in your dad," Thalia agreed reluctantly.
"Well, that is one problem addressed," Zoe said. "But how can we get to my sisters' garden?"
"Thalia's right," I said. "We need a car. But there's nobody to help us here. Unless we, uh, borrowed one."
I didn't like that option. I mean, sure this was a life-or-death situation, but still, it was stealing, and it was bound to get us noticed.
"I bet Hermes is so disappointed in you," Will snickered. "He's probably restraining himself from throwing Travis and Connor through the nearest hotel door to teleport them beside you and help move this along."
"Can he do that?" Percy said in awe.
"I don't know, but I'd believe it," Will shrugged.
"Wait," Thalia said. She started rifling through her backpack. "There is somebody in San Francisco who can help us. I've got the address here somewhere."
"Who?" I asked.
Thalia pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and held it up. "Professor Chase. Annabeth's dad."
"He already moved there!" Magnus somehow sounded more outraged the more times he heard it. "Does he even know Annabeth's missing?!" Or care...
Percy didn't know. It's not like he could have called up and told. If he'd even thought of that himself he would have thought Chiron could somehow send a message, but he'd been a little more preoccupied with getting her back after the go-ahead from his mom.
The awkward silence lingered so long, Alex wasn't sure how to break it. She found herself wanting to hug a stranger she knew quite well by now, promise there were plenty of people who cared. Even Will got a moment of unease on his face before he shook it off, he couldn't imagine a single moment in camp without crossing her.
Thalia finally cleared her throat and offered, "um, no, I don't think he did know." She sounded almost confident about that at least. "He's used to going long bouts of silence from her, and last I heard she was waiting to send him a message if she'd be joining him there, or, err, other options available." Her Huntress threads glimmered as if she carried the moonlight around with her. Percy fidgeted with his camp beads and a grimace.
After hearing Annabeth gripe about her dad for two years, I was expecting him to have devil horns and fangs.
"I think I would have remembered that," Magnus muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.
"I thought Athena had a type for blondes," Alex snorted.
I was not expecting him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator's cap and goggles. He looked so weird, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that we all took a step back on the front porch.
"Gods, I hope he didn't wear that when she was little," Nico muttered. No wonder she was always so confident in the face of monsters, if she'd grown up seeing that every day she probably was the bravest person ever.
"I bet Annabeth used to steal it to try and wear," Will grinned, causing the dopiest smile ever on Percy's face. Nico studied Percy for several moments and grew a bit concerned with himself why he'd never felt something like that. He even tried to picture Percy in such a stupid hat for a moment and still nothing.
"Hello," he said in a friendly voice, "Are you delivering my airplanes?"
"Of course, there's an app for that," Magnus muttered.
"Why is he ordering airplanes and where do I get one!" Jason grinned.
"I'm sure if you ask Annabeth nicely she'll help arrange a ride," Percy tried to say like it was no big deal, never mind the fact he wasn't even sure if she was alive or they were on speaking terms, let alone giving out such favors.
Thalia, Zoe, and I looked at each other warily.
"Um, no, sir," I said.
"Drat," he said. "I need three more Sopwith Camels."
"Right," I said, though I had no clue what he was talking about.
"It's a biplane fighter aircraft that was introduced on the Western Front in 1917," Jason cited like he was reading from a dictionary.
"So you're telling me they're not the desert, spitting kind?" Percy asked blankly. "I'm begging of you to get a new hobby than just knowing everything," Percy sighed.
Jason wouldn't mind that either, considering he still went crosseyed with no clue why he remembered stupid trivia and that same vague feeling of a library he couldn't begin to understand.
"We're friends of Annabeth."
"Annabeth?" He straightened as if I'd just given him an electric shock.
"Thalia, we talked about this," Percy gave a long exaggerated look.
She smacked him with a hardy zap for good measure, smirking as his hair stood on end and he rubbed the spot.
"Is she all right? Has something happened?"
"How do you even answer that?" Alex mock whispered.
"I think you've already said enough to get the keys and be on your way," Magnus muttered, his foot twitching uneasily like he'd be as good as his word if he had half a chance. It seemed an official good thing he'd never tried to find Uncle Fredrick even if he could bear to leave Boston.
None of us answered, but our faces must've told him that something was very wrong.
He took off his cap and goggles. He had sandy-colored hair like Annabeth and intense brown eyes. He was handsome, I guess, for an older guy, but it looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his shirt was buttoned wrong, so one side of his collar stuck up higher than the other side.
"You'd better come in," he said.
It didn't look like a house they'd just moved into. There were LEGO robots on the stairs and two cats sleeping on the sofa in the living room. The coffee table was stacked with magazines, and a little kid's winter coat was spread on the floor. The whole house smelled like fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies. There was jazz music coming from the kitchen. It seemed like a messy, happy kind of home—the kind of place that had been lived in forever.
It was what a home was supposed to feel like. It was no wonder to Thalia he instantly recognized such a thing, having always had one with his mom. She on the other hand had noticed the way one could trip over the wooden floor turning to carpet, which LEGO robot was closest and could be used for the best projectile, how many exits there were and which direction the kitchen was that would have the best knives and maybe a snack to steal for the road.
"Dad!" a little boy screamed. "He's taking apart my robots!"
"Bobby," Dr. Chase called absently, "don't take apart your brother's robots."
"I'm Bobby," the little boy protested. "He's Matthew!"
Percy tapped his pen against his knee as he considered why that bothered him for a moment. It took a second to realize, there was no feeling of a memory returning like he got every few paragraphs. He'd never learned this.
Not once in the two years he'd known Annabeth had she mentioned her half-brother's names. She didn't talk about her step-mom at all, he didn't even know her name, and might have pictured her as Lady Tremaine. The only reason he knew her dad's name was because she'd get angry and say the whole thing when she talked about the time he'd left her dog at the dog park or her at the store.
"Matthew," Dr. Chase called, "don't take apart your brother's robots!"
"Okay, Dad!"
Dr. Chase turned to us. "We'll go upstairs to my study. This way."
"Honey?" a woman called. Annabeth's stepmom appeared in the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was a pretty Asian woman with red highlighted hair tied in a bun. "Who are our guests?" she asked.
"Oh," Dr. Chase said. "This is..."
He stared at us blankly.
"Frederick," she chided. "You forgot to ask them their names?"
"I'm guessing you hadn't sent any pictures to Annabeth," Alex tried at a teasing tone, but it came across more sad. Sally would probably recognize Annabeth on sight without a picture.
"I get the feeling he'd forget our names even if we told him unless camels were involved," Percy shrugged off.
We introduced ourselves a little uneasily, but Mrs. Chase seemed really nice. She asked if we were hungry. We admitted we were, and she told us she'd bring us some cookies and sandwiches and sodas.
"Dear," Dr. Chase said. "They came about Annabeth."
I half expected Mrs. Chase to turn into a raving lunatic at the mention of her stepdaughter, but she just pursed her lips and looked concerned. "All right. Go on up to the study and I'll bring you some food." She smiled at me. "Nice meeting you, Percy. I've heard a lot about you."
Percy had woken up in here with such a deep-seated sense of longing, he knew in that moment as he looked blearily around it must have been there long before he'd lost all memory of Annabeth. He was slowly getting them back now, and this most confusing of all.
Just a glimpse, a small piece into her life he'd never have seen if she hadn't been taken.
Had she ever introduced her dad to him? He still didn't even have proof he'd gotten her back, that she was truly safe somewhere while he was trapped here. Was this a part of her life she'd never want him involved in, the mortal family who would never understand her?
Yet in these small, brief moments, they were welcoming and concerned. She'd talked about him to her stepmom, like an actual parental conversation had gone on at some point, at the very minimum a friendly enough one. He desperately wanted her beside him, as much now as ever. To turn and look to see how she thought of all this.
Magnus's surprise and unease was blatant enough, and that made him feel all the more concerned. What the heck kind of family was she always trying to escape? What would Annabeth say to them now for turning to these mortals for help in their desperate hour?
Other than calling him a seaweed brain anyways.
Upstairs, we walked into Dr. Chase's study and I said, "Whoa!"
"Never a good sign," Magnus gave a long suffering sigh. "Who's got the stopwatch until something explodes?"
"Hey," Percy wanted to protest, but his record really was against him.
The room was wall-to-wall books, but what really caught my attention were the war toys. There was a huge table with miniature tanks and soldiers fighting along a blue painted river, with hills and fake trees and stuff. Old-fashioned biplanes hung on strings from the ceiling, tilted at crazy angles like they were in the middle of a dogfight.
"Cool," everybody in the room muttered at once. Jason looked like he'd murder someone to get his hands on the idea of that, and Alex was clearly contemplating the passage to decide how much time she'd have before Dr. Chase caught her messing with that.
"I'll bet none of you could count the number of times Annabeth was told off for wanting to play with those," Magnus said with a hint of pride.
"I'm proud it was just once," Thalia smirked.
Dr. Chase smiled. "Yes. The Third Battle of Ypres. I'm writing a paper, you see, on the use of Sopwith Camels to strafe enemy lines. I believe they played a much greater role than they've been given credit for."
He plucked a biplane from its string and swept it across the battlefield, making airplane engine noises as he knocked down little German soldiers.
"Oh, right," I said. I knew Annabeth's dad was a professor of military history. She'd never mentioned he played with toy soldiers.
"It kind of makes him a lot cooler," Percy said uneasily, like he expected his girlfriend to appear beside him now of all times to smack him upside the head.
"At least you won't picture him with fangs anymore," Thalia snorted.
Zoe came over and studied the battlefield. "The German lines were farther from the river."
Dr. Chase stared at her. "How do you know that?"
"I was there," she said matter-of-factly.
Magnus made a pained grimace like somebody had just sucker punched his brain. Again. Of all the battles in history...
"Artemis wanted to show us how horrible war was, the way mortal men fight each other. And how foolish, too. The battle was a complete waste."
"Aren't they all," Magnus said with a shake of his head. He'd only been a dreg of humanity for a few years, but long enough to be familiar with the idea humans would fight over the stupidest things that shouldn't matter in the grand scheme.
Dr. Chase opened his mouth in shock. "You—"
"She's a Hunter, sir," Thalia said. "But that's not why we're here. We need—"
"You saw the Sopwith Camels?" Dr. Chase said.
"Your help about Annabeth," Thalia finished her rudely interrupted sentence with a scrunched up nose. It was hysterically easy to recall her little sister telling her about how easily distracted her dad could be all of a sudden, and how that could be useful when avoiding getting grounded, and very disappointing when he forgot to pick her up from preschool. Again.
"How many were there? What formations did they fly?"
"Sir," Thalia broke in again. "Annabeth is in danger."
That got his attention. He set the biplane down.
"Now we're on to something," Magnus huffed.
"Of course," he said. "Tell me everything."
It wasn't easy, but we tried. Meanwhile, the afternoon light was fading outside. We were running out of time.
When we'd finished, Dr. Chase collapsed in his leather recliner. He laced his hands. "My poor brave Annabeth. We must hurry."
"We," Alex repeated with reluctant surprise. She'd been hoping he'd at best hand over the keys when he realized what was going on, at worse they'd get a live play of why Annabeth kept running away from this place.
Magnus was smiling though for this exact same wordage. Mortals still had the makings of heroes in them. He finally realized why his mom had always said that with such a secretive glint in her eyes.
"Sir, we need transportation to Mount Tamalpais," Zoe said.
Jason shivered like his brain was trying to crawl out of his skin through every orifice. He knew, without a doubt, that would be his place to start looking for answers when he got out of here.
It troubled him greatly Percy had woken up knowing the name Annabeth and nowhere to start looking for her, and he had a place with no face attached.
"And we need it immediately."
"I'll drive you. Hmm. It would be faster to fly in my Camel, but it only seats two."
Percy winced a bit at the thought of that, hoping Zoe would be first to volunteer to be strapped to a wing...and it's not like he'd make Thalia do it, gods that was going to suck-
"Whoa, you have an actual biplane?" I said.
"Down at Crissy Field," Dr. Chase said proudly. "That's the reason I had to move here. My sponsor is a private collector with some of the finest World War I relics in the world. He let me restore the Sopwith Camel—"
"I'm starting to wonder how Minerva kept his attention long enough for Annabeth to exist," Jason muttered for himself. This guy was something else. Sally would have put her book down in an instant and had full attention. It was probably unfair of him to be weighing mortal parents, but since he had less clue about his own than even his godly parent, he was certainly riveted by the comparison.
"Sir," Thalia said. "Just a car would be great. And it might be better if we went without you. It's too dangerous."
Dr. Chase frowned uncomfortably. "Now wait a minute, young lady. Annabeth is my daughter. Dangerous or not, I... I can't just—"
"Snacks," Mrs. Chase announced.
Thalia winced and released a very tired sigh. Annabeth hadn't eaten in days by the time they'd found her, and then it had taken a very delicate process for her and Luke to convince her to eat at the start. Mrs. Chase had the bad habit of trying to soothe fears and never let anybody get a word in, constantly cutting off Annabeth's attempts to talk or warn of a monster coming by offering snacks. Like she'd been taught playtime was over and food would make it all better, when that had never happened for her.
She pushed through the door with a tray full of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and Cokes and cookies fresh out of the oven, the chocolate chips still gooey. Thalia and I inhaled a few cookies while Zoe said, "I can drive, sir. I'm not as young as I look. I promise not to destroy your car."
Percy choked on his imaginary cookie he wished he could have been eating, dragged away from nice flashbacks of his mom and plunked into an uneasy feeling of when that promise had been made to Gabe. He swallowed a suddenly dry mouth and hoped history wasn't about to repeat itself.
Mrs. Chase knit her eyebrows. "What's this about?"
"Annabeth is in danger," Dr. Chase said. "On Mount Tam. I would drive them, but... apparently it's no place for mortals."
It sounded like it was really hard for him to get that last part out.
"Then maybe he's using the wrong word," Alex said slowly. There might not be a right word Magnus's uncle would ever feel comfortable using, but she'd heard and lived through worse parent relationships than she was seeing on the surface right here. Maybe Annabeth was just having a disconnect and could mend this fence.
She kept watching Magnus's troubled face though and sighed uneasily for her suspicion he was homeless just like her, and clearly, this hadn't been a considered option. Not all fences could be mended, and tolerance couldn't make a family.
I waited for Mrs. Chase to say no. I mean, what mortal parent would allow three underage teenagers to borrow their car? To my surprise, Mrs. Chase nodded. "Then they'd better get going."
The relieved exhale that passed around the room gave them all a queasy feeling. They were a bit ashamed, that they were surprised it had gone so easily. Could whatever troubles that had caused Annabeth to run away been exaggerated by the kid? Were they still not hearing something major that Percy obviously couldn't pick up on after being there five minutes? Or was it just little things, that kept building over time Annabeth kept going back and forth on?
Will still sort of wished he could erase this exchange from his mind, getting this private glimpse into Annabeth's house without her permission, he certainly wouldn't be pleased if she was sitting around camp reading a book about how his relationship with his mom had gone.
"Right!" Dr. Chase jumped up and started patting his pockets. "My keys..."
His wife sighed. "Frederick, honestly. You'd lose your head if it weren't wrapped inside your aviator hat. The keys are hanging on the peg by the front door."
"Right!" Dr. Chase said.
Zoe grabbed a sandwich. "Thank you both. We should go. Now."
We hustled out the door and down the stairs, the Chases right behind us.
"Percy," Mrs. Chase called as I was leaving, "tell Annabeth... Tell her she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that."
Percy's hand went up to fiddle with his necklace, his mind on a college ring that wasn't there but still resided on hers. Annabeth had never needed Percy to tell her anything, it was usually the other way around. He had a feeling she'd always known that.
He'd always associated her with Camp Half-Blood, where they'd met and spent so much time together. He tried to imagine if Annabeth had got a peek inside that disgusting old apartment with Gabe around and if she'd think he had it made with a roof over his head while she'd run away from this family. Or if she'd look at Smelly Gabe and understand how it felt to have a step-parent that made everything worse despite their parent's best efforts.
Regardless, he knew he'd always follow her lead on what she wanted.
I took one last look at the messy living room, Annabeth's half brothers spilling LEGOs and arguing, the smell of cookies filling the air. Not a bad place, I thought.
"I'll tell her," I promised.
We ran out to the yellow VW convertible parked in the driveway. The sun was going down. I figured we had less than an hour to save Annabeth.
He shivered at the worst time restraint of his life. If he'd even get a chance to open his stupid mouth around her again.
"Can't this thing go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic."
"You both sound like my mother," I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison.
"Way to make me feel home away from home," Percy chuckled.
"Next time I'll even drive you off the road to get all the warm and fuzzies," Thalia rolled her eyes.
Zoe weaved in and out of traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun was sinking on the horizon when we finally got into Marin County and exited the highway.
The roads were insanely narrow, winding through forests and up the sides of hills and around the edges of steep ravines. Zoe didn't slow down at all.
"I really hope that's those Huntress reflexes, and not, you know, her vague immortality forgetting we would die on impact," Percy muttered.
Thalia didn't have an answer, but she did feel a tad more smug when she remembered Percy clutching his seat, fingers digging into the cushion like a lifeline just like she was.
"Why does everything smell like cough drops?" I asked.
"Eucalyptus." Zoe pointed to the huge trees all around us.
"The stuff koala bears eat?"
"And monsters," she said. "They love chewing the leaves. Especially dragons."
"Why?" Magnus drew out the word with painful and familiar concern if he wanted to know the answer to that.
"I'm assuming it's not for their high water content and more for the added bonus of being poisonous," Alex shrugged without concern.
"It also explains the bad breath," Will nodded like that was the biggest concern, not how they were going to get past it!
"Dragons chew eucalyptus leaves?"
"Believe me," Zoe said, "if you had dragon breath, you would chew eucalyptus too."
I didn't question her,
"You have a really bad habit of doing that," Jason pouted. It was obvious to anyone he'd be interrogating Zoe any given chance if he could.
"The less I have to pretend to remember the better," Percy shrugged.
but I did keep my eyes peeled more closely as we drove. Ahead of us loomed Mount Tamalpais.
Thalia was still watching Jason twitch every time that was mentioned and clenching her jaw against blurting out asking if he remembered something. The place obviously bothered him, but he was two when he vanished, how could he possibly have memories of it...
I guess, in terms of mountains, it was a small one, but it looked plenty huge as we were driving toward it.
"Are you literally making a mountain out of a molehill right now?" Alex asked.
"In what world is driving up to face the guy who kidnapped a goddess a molehill?" Percy yelped.
"I mean the mountain itself," Alex sighed.
"I think in this case he's making a molehill into a mountain," Magnus offered.
"I want this stupid metaphor to end," Percy groaned, and Alex obliged purely to get to the dragon.
"So that's the Mountain of Despair?" I asked.
"Yes," Zoe said tightly.
"Why do they call it that?"
"Because it causes despair," Thalia said grimly.
"Probably a translation issue," Will said brightly, "that's how a lot of things got named way back when."
Percy didn't find either answer very comforting. Couldn't one person just pretend it was misnamed and really it should be called the Fluffy Bunny Mountain of Happiness Where Annabeth Was?
She was silent for almost a mile before answering. "After the war between the Titans and the gods, many of the Titans were punished and imprisoned. Kronos was sliced to pieces and thrown into Tartarus. Kronos's right-hand man, the general of his forces, was imprisoned up there, on the summit, just beyond the Garden of the Hesperides."
"Why was he put in a garden with sunset spirits?" Magnus asked. "Sounds like he got a great lawyer to get him on community service or something."
"Remember everything you've yet heard in this Magnus," Thalia reminded. "Just because it sounds nice doesn't mean it's going to be." Her face could have been a Mist colored version of the Mountain of Despair to give them all a visual.
"The General," I said. Clouds seemed to be swirling around its peak, as though the mountain was drawing them in, spinning them like a top. "What's going on up there? A storm?"
Zoe didn't answer. I got the feeing she knew exactly what the clouds meant, and she didn't like it.
"Storm can't be worse than a dragon, right?" Magnus whispered just for Alex this time.
He didn't know why he'd been expecting a better answer. She scoffed and said, "knowing Percy's luck, the dragon's bad breath causes tsunamis."
"We have to concentrate," Thalia said. "The Mist is really strong here."
"The magical kind or the natural kind?" I asked.
"Both."
The gray clouds swirled even thicker over the mountain, and we kept driving straight toward them. We were out of the forest now, into wide open spaces of cliffs and grass and rocks and fog.
I happened to glance down at the ocean as we passed a scenic curve, and I saw something that made me jump out of my seat.
"Your dad sunbathing?" Will asked innocently.
"Godly backup?" Jason asked without hope.
"Beach party full of drunk teenagers," Alex said confidently.
"None of the above," Thalia sighed, which was probably a relief. Any of their three things just would have added to the horror movie cliche of what was waiting at the top.
"Look!" But we turned a corner and the ocean disappeared behind the hills.
Percy rubbed the side of his face where he'd smacked into the window from that sharp turn. Zoe was a true maniac with that wheel.
"What?" Thalia asked.
"A big white ship," I said. "Docked near the beach. It looked like a cruise ship."
"Only in your world have I ever considered a cruise ship a bad thing," Alex told him.
"Huzzah for being memorable," Percy sighed.
Her eyes widened. "Luke's ship?"
I wanted to say I wasn't sure. It might be a coincidence.
"The biggest honking coincidence I've ever heard," Will frowned, no matter he wished that too.
But I knew better. The Princess Andromeda, Luke's demon cruise ship, was docked at that beach. That's why he'd sent his ship all the way down to the Panama Canal. It was the only way to sail it from the East Coast to California.
"I'm just going to pause and be grateful he can't make it fly," Magnus groaned.
"I, for one, hope those monsters at least enjoyed such a scenic route. Those trips aren't cheap," Alex sniffed.
Nico resisted the reminder those monsters had probably been to busy picking their teeth with human bones to take in the view.
"We will have company, then," Zoe said grimly. "Kronos's army."
"Why can't we ever have good company come over," Percy sighed. "It's always, monsters are attacking the camp, or, monsters are invading our rescue! I want a battalion of backup to be our company!"
"What I'm hearing is that you want to make more fwiends," Will said in a disgustingly gooey voice.
"You can be the pawn," Percy rolled his eyes.
Thalia was snickering at them, but as was usual now her eyes flickered to Jason who had a constipated look on his face. She didn't see how Percy's usual sarcastic commentary could have caused that, but she was resisting the urge more every moment to rush through this already and find out what he either couldn't, or wouldn't say out loud.
I was about to answer, when suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Thalia shouted, "Stop the car. NOW!"
Zoe must've sensed something was wrong, because she slammed on the brakes without question.
She used those with the same lead foot she had the gas. Percy clutched the seatbelt in memory only, if he hadn't been wearing one then, he probably would have sailed out the front window and gotten out first.
The yellow VW spun twice before coming to a stop at the edge of the cliff.
"Out!" Thalia opened the door and pushed me hard.
She'd reached past him with such speed he'd almost cut her hand off if he'd been able to get Riptide up in time. A pin from her jacket had clocked the edge of his eye and he'd only felt the dull throb of pain long after as he sat there rubbing it now.
We both rolled onto the pavement.
The next second: BOOOM!
Lightning flashed, and Dr. Chase's Volkswagen erupted like a canary-yellow grenade.
Percy rubbed his neck in the awkward silence that followed and asked, "think this'll make Dr. Chase ban me from dating Annabeth?"
"If he doesn't I might," Magnus muttered without actually meaning it, but it was sort of distressing he'd already lost count of how many near-death experiences Percy had been in.
"You are never allowed near any motor vehicles around me," Alex informed him.
"I don't explode them by proximity!" But Percy's protest was useless to his own ears.
I probably would've been killed by shrapnel except for Thalia's shield, which appeared over me. I heard a sound like metal rain, and when I opened my eyes, we were surrounded by wreckage. Part of the VW's fender had impaled itself in the street. The smoking hood was spinning in circles. Pieces of yellow metal were strewn across the road.
"It looked like somebody had finally exploded the wrong Barney friend," Percy admitted.
"Little to specific Perce," Thalia told him in concern. "Especially because everybody in here already thinks you're a self-proclaimed pyro."
Percy thought about it for a moment before he said, "looked like I exploded another bus?"
"Vaguely better," she sighed while Alex huffed and muttered some more she'd never even gotten to see one.
"That's what you have to say after a car exploded around you?!" Magnus asked like they were insane. "Not, what the hell!?"
"Oh, err, right," Percy turned back to the book attentively like Mrs. Dodds had just snapped at him, but it still wasn't really that convincing.
I swallowed the taste of smoke out of my mouth, and looked at Thalia. "You saved my life."
"I do that from time to time," she agreed casually.
"Now I know I should never go on another quest without you," Percy grinned.
"You'd have to kidnap me to work with you again after this," she lied just as casually.
"One shall perish by a parent's hand," she muttered. "Curse him. He would destroy me? Me?"
Percy didn't think that explosion was such a run-of-the-mill thing in his life now as he turned sharply back to Thalia. He wanted to protest, promise Zeus wouldn't do that to her. He'd saved her life on the dam, and Mr. D just had at the pier. Not to mention Apollo and Athena! They'd had more help on this quest from the gods than his past two put together. None of them were exactly acting like the end of the world was upon them, but clearly Artemis going missing had gotten all of their notice!
He wanted to believe that, he could almost delude himself for a moment it was true, but the troubled look on her face left him breathless with doubt again. Why had it taken the worst possible outcome for a goddess and Annabeth to be taken to get their attention? Where was his dad's help outside of two stupid words?
The unsettled look on Thalia's face wasn't helping to discourage these thoughts. That wasn't a line of the prophecy easily talked out of.
It hadn't worked though, Thalia was still here, very unperished. He had to hope that, like all those other prophecy's, he was missing something.
It took me a second to realize she was talking about her dad. "Oh, hey, that couldn't have been Zeus's lightning bolt. No way."
"Wasn't exactly the nuclear explosion I was promised," Percy insisted.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, next time somebody tries to kill us you can give them an exact radius," Thalia rolled her eyes good naturedly enough. He hoped that meant she was past this little snafu of thinking her dad had tried to kill her.
"Whose, then?" Thalia demanded.
"I don't know. Zoe said Kronos's name.
"She did?" Alex muttered, kicking herself as she skimmed back a few paragraphs to check. Damn, she had. They'd been saying all of the god's names so casually in here, she'd forgotten that was a warning. She twitched with stress and glared about the walls for a moment, wondering how complacent this place was starting to make her.
Maybe he—"
Thalia shook her head, looking angry and stunned. "No. That wasn't it."
"Wait," I said. "Where's Zoe? Zoe!"
Percy nearly startled out of his seat. "She has better reflexes than us! She got out right? Right!"
Thalia didn't want to lie to him again and say Zoe made it out of this. Her silence felt just as damning. She couldn't disrespect a fellow hunter by brushing it off as a joke. She was frozen, and hated herself for that indecision. "Zoe's reflexes are better than both of us put together," she finally managed. It certainly hadn't been a lack of skill to get her killed...but she still hated how it felt like lying to him. No answer at all. At least it wasn't a disservice of the old lieutenant.
We both got up and ran around the blasted VW. Nothing inside. Nothing either direction down the road. I looked down the cliff. No sign of her.
It was like Bianca all over again, Percy shivered. Were all of his friends going to vanish without a trace, one by one until the gods had taken everyone away from him and still expect him to not care!
"Zoe!" I shouted.
Then she was standing right next to me, pulling me by my arm. "Silence, fool!
Alex let out a blasting sigh of relief and shook the green hair from her face. "You could learn a lesson or two from her Thalia. How to jump out at just the right moment." Right on the edge of really feeling like another death had arisen, but before the cliché she was alive all along come-back could have happened.
"Oh, I'm aware," Thalia said, an old smile of regret that had been on her face since Zoe appeared on that cliff when Annabeth fell over.
Do you want to wake Ladon?"
"Depends on if he's a morning person," Alex shrugged.
"Nobody's a morning person," Will shook his head.
"Really? Not even a child of the sun?" Magnus asked in surprise.
"That's a stereotype," Will said tragically. "I drink coffee and smother it better than some of my siblings, but I assure you, morning people are an even more rare myth than seeing Pegasus himself."
Nico started chuckling quietly beside him, and Will felt such an immense glow he checked his arm real quick to make sure he wasn't. Thankfully not, but even that embarrassment would have been worth it to make Nico laugh, even softly like that.
"You mean we're here?"
"Very close," she said. "Follow me."
Sheets of fog were drifting right across the road. Zoe stepped into one of them, and when the fog passed, she was no longer there. Thalia and I looked at each other.
"Concentrate on Zoe," Thalia advised. "We are following her. Go straight into the fog and keep that in mind."
"The clearest instructions I've ever gotten in my life," Percy said gratefully. And he still wasn't confident he'd pulled it off without screwing up somehow. He'd blame it on the foggy outlook.
"Wait, Thalia. About what happened back on the pier... I mean, with the manticore and the sacrifice—"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You wouldn't actually have... you know?"
Alex scowled and muttered a bit Percy never actually shut his mouth when his friends asked him to. Thalia looked plenty annoyed at him, but was clearly resisting the urge to throw an arc of electricity directly into his brain through his ear so she obviously wasn't that annoyed.
She hesitated. "I was just shocked. That's all."
"And you're usually the one doing the shocking," Jason tried and failed at a grin as the unease lingered in him too. Thalia came across as a cool, confident badass. If she was having doubts, he found his own worry about the kind of parentage he could go back to rising. He rubbed his tattoo without realizing he was doing it again as he lost focus on the room, searching in vain as always in himself for some sort of clear-cut answer about anything. Why would Thalia's dad trying to kill her, of all things, leave a sort of annoying impression? What on earth kind of life had he led that would make him think murdery attention was better than nothing?
"Zeus didn't send that lighting bolt at the car. It was Kronos.
"Whom you're still casually using the name of," Nico muttered. "Yes, invite more trouble."
"I think that's Percy's middle name," Will snorted.
Perseus Inviting-Trouble Jackson. Has a nice ring to it, Nico smirked.
He's trying to manipulate you, make you angry at your dad."
It had worked. Thalia was still pretty pissed at herself for that. They probably hadn't even needed Luke's insights for the best way to get under her skin, but it still infuriated her to no end how easily she'd been manipulated into feeling exactly what they'd wanted going into this fight.
She took a deep breath. "Percy, I know you're trying to make me feel better. Thanks. But come on. We need to go."
"Do I at least get credit for trying?" Percy asked as he still watched her with troubled eyes. He hoped it was just pessimism making him worried she'd hesitate again. He trusted her to see this quest through, surely that would be enough for her to trust herself, if not her dad, then at least Annabeth.
She stepped into the fog, into the Mist, and I followed.
Magnus felt mildly more prepared for whatever they were about to come across in this place. Couldn't be any worse than a whole sea of unknown Mist, right?
When the fog cleared, I was still on the side of the mountain, but the road was dirt. The grass was thicker. The sunset made a bloodred slash across the sea. The summit of the mountain seemed closer now, swirling with storm clouds and raw power. There was only one path to the top, directly in front of us. And it led through a lush meadow of shadows and flowers: the garden of twilight, just like I'd seen in my dream.
If it hadn't been for the enormous dragon, the garden would've been the most beautiful place I'd ever seen.
"I can't believe Grover missed out on the second paradise you came across." Jason would feel a lot worse for him though if he hadn't been held hostage on that first one, and the whole dragon thing slipped into there.
A point that Magnus was looking very uncertain about as he gripped his seat to try sinking even further into it. He wasn't screaming and freaking out about the dragon though, so, you know, progress.
The grass shimmered with silvery evening light, and the flowers were such brilliant colors they almost glowed in the dark. Stepping stones of polished black marble led around either side of a five-story-tall apple tree, every bough glittering with golden apples, and I don't mean yellow golden apples like in the grocery store. I mean real golden apples. I can't describe why they were so appealing, but as soon as I smelled their fragrance, I knew that one bite would be the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.
"Could you eat one?" Magnus asked. "Or are they just there to tempt the foolish?"
"I bet Grover could eat one," Alex offered.
"Wasn't Luke sent to fetch one of these?" Jason leaned forward in his seat. "Something about a dragon?" His eagerness clearly wasn't abated at the idea of getting details over that.
"The apples of immortality," Thalia said. "Hera's wedding gift from Zeus."
"Why would Zeus give Hera a gift to make her immortal? Wasn't she, already?" Magnus interrupted again.
"It's the principle of the thing?" Thalia answered with no enthusiasm. "Their love was supposed to be immortal or something." Her existence proved how well that lasted.
I wanted to step right up and pluck one, except for the dragon coiled around the tree.
Now, I don't know what you think of when I say dragon.
"Mountain-sized four-legged scaley snake thing on a pile of gold," Magnus offered.
"Rattlesnake bird mix eating someone who deserves it. With any luck you meet a real one," Alex grinned.
Jason opened his mouth as if to continue the insanity.
"I'm sorry it said anything, that wasn't meant to be an invite," Percy sighed, the last thing he needed was more ideas in his head of other dragons he could meet.
"Peleaus," Will grinned. If you scratched him in just the right spot, his scales ruffled up.
"With the exception of Will," Percy agreed while glancing over.
'Will's the exception to everything,' Nico silently agreed.
Whatever it is, it's not scary enough. The serpent's body was as thick as a booster rocket, glinting with coppery scales. He had more heads than I could count, as if a hundred deadly pythons had been fused together.
Jason's mouth was still open in shock and awe and Magnus looked like he wanted to vomit his guts.
"Cooool," Alex was all but drooling at such a pristine monster she could spend ages looking at.
"Luke survived that?" Jason got his jaw working enough to cobble that together. "He came away with just one scar?"
Nobody had actually warned Thalia about that story. The first time she'd seen his scar was this day, when she'd finally seen him in person months after she'd awoken. She'd wanted to perversely know that story from then on, and yet nobody could ever tell it except the person she'd tried to kill.
He appeared to be asleep.
"No it did not make him look cute Alex," Percy said before Alex could finish looking around.
"I was going to ask if he snored?" Alex scoffed.
"No," Thalia said, "which made him all the more dangerous. Means he has great sinuses, the better to kill us with."
"So, even cooler," Alex nodded, obviously satisfied.
The heads lay curled in a big spaghetti-like mound on the grass, all the eyes closed.
"Only Percy could make spaghetti a terrifying comparison," Nico chuckled.
"I bet his mom tried to slip broccoli into it and he's holding a grudge," Will nodded.
Then the shadows in front of us began to move. There was a beautiful, eerie singing, like voices from the bottom of a well. I reached for Riptide, but Zoe stopped my hand.
"After the sirens, I'm surprised your first instinct isn't to reach for ear wax," Jason said.
"Why is your first instinct to always reach for your sword? You cannot stab all of your problems Percy," Magnus seemed to agree.
"Hasn't failed me yet," he shrugged.
Four figures shimmered into existence, four young women who looked very much like Zoe. They all wore white Greek chitons. Their skin was like caramel. Silky black hair tumbled loose around their shoulders. It was strange, but I'd never realized how beautiful Zoe was until I saw her siblings, the Hesperides. They looked just like Zoe—gorgeous, and probably very dangerous.
"I feel like Zoe would not punch you for that description," Thalia nodded in approval.
"Annabeth might not either," Magnus chuckled.
"That's how you know you won the prize," Alex snorted.
"Sisters," Zoe said.
"We do not see any sister," one of the girls said coldly. "We see two half-bloods and a Hunter. All of whom shall soon die."
Whatever humor Percy had, as always, infused was blasted away by those icy words. Magnus in particular was pretty uncomfortable with how easily they dismissed their would be sister and how passive her death would be to them.
Thalia looked like she was trying to swallow dragon breath at those words. Jason was starting to get a really bad feeling about why that would bother her so much. That most damning line of the prophecy still on the forefront of his mind, and his earlier suspicions and clearly wrong assumptions about how Zoe might know so much about the general. She'd been kicked out of her home for loving somebody she shouldn't, a hero.
"You've got it wrong." I stepped forward. "Nobody is going to die."
The girls studied me. They had eyes like volcanic rock, glassy and completely black.
"Perseus Jackson," one of them said.
"Yes," mused another. "I do not see why he is a threat."
"Thanks," Percy said sincerely. He didn't want people to take one look at him and think that anyways...wait.
"Who said I was a threat?"
The first Hesperid glanced behind her, toward the top of the mountain. "They fear thee. They are unhappy that this one has not yet killed thee."
She pointed at Thalia.
"Tempting sometimes," Thalia admitted. "But no, thanks. He's my friend."
"Thanks Thals, feel the exact same way," Percy and she fist bumped. Their friendship was so casual it honestly made the others a bit jealous, especially Nico. It wasn't hard at all to imagine his dad becoming bitter after centuries watching Poseidon and Zeus hack each other off at all hours but always quickly forgive each other while either outright ignoring, or fearing Hades.
"There are no friends here, daughter of Zeus," the girl said. "Only enemies. Go back."
"Nice to know there's no delusion of a spa treatment this time," Percy scowled. He wasn't leaving that mountain without Annabeth.
"Not without Annabeth," Thalia said.
Thalia and Percy didn't need to high-five again. The exact same look on their face spoke that action.
"And Artemis," Zoe said. "We must approach the mountain."
"You know he will kill thee," the girl said. "You are no match for him."
"Artemis must be freed," Zoe insisted. "Let us pass."
The girl shook her head. "You have no rights here anymore. We have only to raise our voices and Ladon will wake."
"He will not hurt me," Zoe said.
"No? And what about thy so-called friends?"
Then Zoe did the last thing I expected. She shouted, "Ladon! Wake!"
"Wow, tell me how she really feels about me again?" Percy asked nervously.
"Confident," Thalia shrugged. If she hadn't trusted Percy, she likely would have just thrown him at Ladon to wake him.
The dragon stirred, glittering like a mountain of pennies. The Hesperides yelped and scattered.
"Well at least now we know Zoe was the best of them anyways," Jason grinned.
The idea of this place sat like a festering wound in his mind he wanted to pick at. At least these girls didn't contribute, he'd swear he never came across them period. Which didn't track with the very solid knowledge he swore he'd been here. This could not get any more confusing.
The lead girl said to Zoe, "Are you mad?"
"Angry, yes. Delusional? Nah," Alex shrugged.
"You never had any courage, sister," Zoe said. "That is thy problem."
"I feel like there's a lot of problems going on here actually," Will waved his hand at nothing in here as he gestured at the book. "I can't think of someone in Greek mythology who doesn't need counseling in some way or another though."
"Group therapy doesn't fix everything, especially when dragons are involved," Thalia rolled her eyes.
The dragon Ladon was writhing now, a hundred heads whipping around, tongues flickering and tasting the air. Zoe took a step forward, her arms raised.
"I don't think he wants a hug," Magnus mock whispered.
"I bet he'd love one," Alex sniffed, "and nobody's ever tried."
"You'd need a hundred arms to do it fairly," Will snickered.
Percy got a strange feeling in the back of his mind and tapped his skull to make sure it was still working properly. No way did he have a memory of something about that.
"Zoe, don't," Thalia said. "You're not a Hesperid anymore. He'll kill you."
"Ladon is trained to protect the tree," Zoe said. "Skirt around the edges of the garden. Go up the mountain. As long as I am a bigger threat, he should ignore thee."
"Should," I said. "Not exactly reassuring."
"The first reassurance she's ever given though, baby steps," Will offered.
"It is the only way," she said. "Even the three of us together cannot fight him."
Ladon opened his mouths. The sound of a hundred heads hissing at once sent a shiver down my back, and that was before his breath hit me. The smell was like acid. It made my eyes burn, my skin crawl, and my hair stand on end. I remembered the time a rat had died inside our apartment wall in New York in the middle of the summer. This stench was like that, except a hundred times stronger, and mixed with the smell of chewed eucalyptus. I promised myself right then that I would never ask a school nurse for another cough drop.
Thalia was mock waving her hand in her face, but her tone was very serious. "Seconded, and I don't even attend school anymore."
Jason whistled in awe. "Must be one powerful stench to never give an excuse to leave class again."
I wanted to draw my sword. But then I remembered my dream of Zoe and Hercules, and how Hercules had failed in a head-on assault. I decided to trust Zoe's judgment.
"Hercules would eat his sandal before he'd admit the same," Will grinned.
"Grover would eat a sandal too and he's not a jerk, I don't think that's a good measure," Percy said.
Will thought about it for a moment before he refined, "Hercules would give up his lion skin coat before he'd admit the same."
"Yeah, that I believe," Percy sighed.
Thalia went left. I went right. Zoe walked straight toward the monster.
Percy felt strange. For once it wasn't him charging down to confront death. The last time he'd let a friend go in his place, Bianca hadn't come back. He wasn't used to skirting the sidelines around the monster. Annabeth's hat had still been in his pocket, but he hadn't felt the need to put it on. A cap of invisibility wouldn't have fooled this dragon for long, he'd smell Percy who would have no chance and way less experience than Zoe. Percy trusted her without question to do this, but it didn't erase the sick feeling in him something was wrong.
"It's me, my little dragon," Zoe said. "Zoe has come back."
Ladon shifted forward, then back. Some of the mouths closed. Some kept hissing. Dragon confusion.
"You say that like it's a thing," Jason smiled, clearly fixing to ask for a book on that.
Magnus frowned. "I'm more concerned you've been around enough dragons for it to be a thing."
Meanwhile, the Hesperides shimmered and turned into shadows. The voice of the eldest whispered, "Fool."
"I'm starting to think fool is a compliment," Percy smirked. "None of us ever call our enemies fool."
"I can call you a fool if you like," Thalia smirked.
"You've complimented me enough for one day," he waved off.
"And Percy's also implying he doesn't dish out the sickest burns to his enemies, so I don't see his point," Alex grinned.
"I used to feed thee by hand," Zoe continued, speaking in a soothing voice as she stepped toward the golden tree. "Do you still like lamb's meat?"
The dragon's eyes glinted.
"She doesn't smell like lamb's meat does she?" Percy muttered.
"Not unless you two stopped for gyro's without me," Thalia resisted the urge to whack him upside the head.
Magnus sighed and wished he could have a gyro now. It was probably rude or something to excuse himself for some falafel before a fight though.
Thalia and I were about halfway around the garden. Ahead, I could see a single rocky trail leading up to the black peak of the mountain. The storm swirled above it, spinning on the summit like it was the axis for the whole world.
'About that,' Nico resisted the urge to say, but his nervous laugh still made it through. He'd heard the story a thousand times about how Percy had gotten that faint grey streak in his hair. During those epic retellings of god like proportions he was sure now might have been exaggerated slightly, he'd always felt less like a freak for his crush because of the awe on the Stolls faces when telling it over the campfire.
We'd almost made it out of the meadow when something went wrong. I felt the dragon's mood shift. Maybe Zoe got too close. Maybe the dragon realized he was hungry. Whatever the reason, he lunged at Zoe.
"That girl deserves to cuss so much right now," Thalia said with full sympathy. "It's a true shame she missed out on our modern lingo just for that moment."
"I was thinking it for her," Percy swallowed.
Two thousand years of training kept her alive. She dodged one set of slashing fangs and tumbled under another, weaving through the dragon's heads as she ran in our direction, gagging from the monster's horrible breath.
I drew Riptide to help.
"No!" Zoe panted. "Run!"
The dragon snapped at her side, and Zoe cried out. Thalia uncovered Aegis, and the dragon hissed. In his moment of indecision, Zoe sprinted past us up the mountain, and we followed.
Alex was starting to feel a little twitchy. That was twice in rapid succession Zoe had almost died or she would have been presumed dead in the following sentence at minimum. She really hoped that was her pessimism talking.
The dragon didn't try to pursue. He hissed and stomped the ground, but I guess he was well trained to guard that tree.
"I hope he and Peleus have a playdate," Will said. "They deserve to get some time to stretch their legs away from their jobs."
"Only you Will," Percy told him in exasperation. Nico once again found himself agreeing with Percy, only Will would think the monsters needed more play time after nearly eating someone, but he found it kind of sweet the guy was obviously so considerate about everything he came across.
He wasn't going to be lured off even by the tasty prospect of eating some heroes.
We ran up the mountain as the Hesperides resumed their song in the shadows behind us.
The music didn't sound so beautiful to me now—more like the sound track for a funeral.
Percy tried to tell himself that wasn't ominous going forward. That Thalia and Zoe were now besties off in Huntress lala land bad-mouthing boys and shooting arrows at life-sized mannequins of him or something when he annoyed his friends. Maybe Thalia had that prophecy all wrong and the line had even referred to Bianca...but the burn of having a Di Angelo kid back on his mind hurt to bad to keep trying to pathetically convince himself.
At the top of mountain were ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that looked as though they'd been half melted.
Jason's mouth went dry, he got chills the moment the first word was said. A ghostly whisper, a memory slipping through the fog of his brain. More powerful than even hearing Hylla's name had been, but so much less...meaningful. He sat quivering in his seat, his blue eyes nowhere they could follow as he strained against nothing to understand. He'd been here, this was supposed to be an important place to him, so why did it feel like another moment he'd passively earmark in a book of his life?
"Jason?" Thalia gently touched his shoulder. She expected to get shocked again, but that didn't happen. He just looked tired, and confused. She wanted to put a blanket over his shoulders and offer to get him a snack. He looked like that lost kid she'd always wanted to find.
Her heart skipped a beat when he didn't shake her off or push her away. Instead, he leaned into her touch, just shaking his head and waving at the book.
"The ruins of Mount Othrys," Thalia whispered in awe.
"Yes," Zoe said. "It was not here before. This is bad."
"What's Mount Othrys?" I asked, feeling like a fool as usual.
"You ruined my moment Percy," Thalia huffed, her hand still tight on Jason's shoulder as she addressed him. "Now how can I call you a fool when you're doing it yourself? People will think I'm copying you."
"Gotta be faster Thals, I'll call myself everything under the sun while you're busy laughing at me," Percy tried to keep his smile as light as usual, but the feeling of standing amongst black death radiating from those ruins was leaving him a twitching mess in here. Annabeth had been trapped there for days, and he didn't see her yet. It didn't help the white marble of the walls, floor, and ceiling in here had so many cracks in them by now it looked like he'd be creating more here soon if they didn't get out.
"The mountain fortress of the Titans," Zoe said. "In the first war, Olympus and Othrys were the two rival capitals of the world. Othrys was—" She winced and held her side.
It wasn't just a scratch. Will didn't have to be there to know that. Adrenaline and skill could only last one so long, even a warrior like her. His hands twitched, he came up with a bag he'd have to have a Hephaestus kid help him make that had a pocket for everything he'd need. A moment that he should have been there, and yet he'd probably been sitting around camp having a snowball fight.
Nico watched that frustration, the self-inflicted uselessness rush over and linger all on Will's face. Will wasn't alone in feeling that of course, they'd all probably felt it at least once by now. It just hit him differently to realize when Percy felt like that he could do something about it, he reacted and kept moving. Will was still going to be thinking about this for a while.
"You're hurt," I said. "Let me see."
"No! It is nothing. I was saying... in the first war, Othrys was blasted to pieces."
"But... how is it here?"
Thalia looked around cautiously as we picked our way through the rubble, past blocks of marble and broken archways. "It moves in the same way that Olympus moves. It always exists on the edges of civilization. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good."
"At least it didn't show up in New Jersey?" Percy offered. "Then we'd know we were screwed."
"Why can't anything show up in West Virginia? Nothing interesting ever happens there," Alex nodded sagely.
"Why?"
"This is Atlas's mountain," Zoe said. "Where he holds—" She froze. Her voice was ragged with despair. "Where he used to hold up the sky."
"The sky? As in," Magnus pointed uselessly up.
"That's the one," Thalia nodded.
"Uh, huh," Magnus finally seemed to decide that was to much. He was done. His brain had shut off and somebody would have to come back around later and make sure he hadn't turned into a vegetable.
We had reached the summit. A few yards ahead of us, gray clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains. This is what I had seen in my dream. It hadn't been a cavern roof that Artemis was forced to hold. It was the roof of the world.
"Annabeth." Her dusty, strained, terrified face had been on his mind so long he felt like it was ingrained in the back of his eyelids. She'd done what a goddess was straining to do for who knew how long? How had she even survived?
And it was all Luke's fault.
"My lady!" Zoe rushed forward, but Artemis said, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now."
Her voice was strained. She was drenched in sweat. I had never seen a goddess in pain before, but the weight of the sky was clearly too much for Artemis.
Zoe was crying. She ran forward despite Artemis's protests, and tugged at the chains.
Thalia's mouth was as tight as it could go, she looked like she was holding in a world-shattering scream. Holding the sky up felt like too good a punishment for Atlas after all he'd done, he deserved the nothingness of Tartarus while Luke was forced to hold this for the rest of eternity.
A booming voice spoke behind us: "Ah, how touching."
We turned. The General was standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side were Luke and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Luke's side. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke was holding the point of his sword to her throat.
The water blasted around them in a scalding burn, so hot it took a moment as Percy gasped in a breath to figure out why everybody looked like they got a bad sunburn for a moment. He tried to unclench his hands, but they shook uselessly as if fighting him.
I met her eyes, trying to ask her a thousand questions. There was just one message she was sending me, though: RUN.
Percy tried to, in here, but the effect was ruined by having nowhere to go. He just found himself in the middle of the room once more with no clue how to run to her side.
"Percy," Thalia tried to put an arm around him, but he shrugged her off with a wild look.
"I can't just sit here anymore! I have to get back to her, I have to do something!"
Thalia understood. Of course she did. The only thing that had been in her mind's eye since she found him down here was giving him just that, if the two of them could have drawn up some battle strategy to get out of here that had no chance of succeeding they'd still rather be doing that.
All she could do now was squeeze his arm and plead with Alex to finish while Percy fought against nothing. Not trying to pull away from her again, but her's wasn't the touch he needed right now.
"Luke," Thalia snarled. "Let her go."
Luke's smile was weak and pale. He looked even worse than he had three days ago in D.C. "That is the General's decision, Thalia. But it's good to see you again."
Thalia spat at him.
The surprise that had been on his face had somehow stung her more than she'd done to him. That he'd deluded himself, even for a second, she'd run to his side without intending to gut him for all he'd done. That Luke had actually looked hurt, confused even why she'd do such a thing. They didn't know each other anymore. Nothing could have ever been the same since she died.
The General chuckled. "So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. It's been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you."
"Do not respond," Artemis groaned. "Do not challenge him."
"Wait a second," I said. "You're Atlas?"
The General glanced at me. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."
"You're not going to hurt Zoe," I said. "I won't let you."
The General sneered. "You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter."
I frowned. "A family matter?"
"Yes," Zoe said bleakly. "Atlas is my father."
Not the something Percy had been hoping he was missing. He winced like a punch to the gut. Had Zoe known all along they were headed towards another parent's hand who would happily perish her? "These books have got to stop dramatically ending on somebody's parentage," Percy scowled. "All Greeks are sort of related and none of us like talking about it!"
"That's the spirit Percy," Thalia gave him a fond clap on the shoulder just like always. Trying to hide her trembling hand just a few moments more.
#pjo#Percy Jackson#Thalia Grace#Jason Grace#percabeth#alex fierro#magnus chase#hoo#nico di angelo#will solace#solangelo#fierrochase#titan's curse
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Office Supplies - How to Classify Office Supplies As an Asset Or an Expense
Office Supplies are one of the essential parts of your business. They are what help keep your business running smoothly. The best way to keep office supplies in good condition is to choose the right products.
Getting Started
Starting your own office can be a daunting task. However, getting the right supplies can help your company succeed. But how do you know what to buy?
An office supply store like Paper Punch is an excellent place to find essential equipment. These include staplers, scissors, paper clips, and even a trash can. You can also purchase a point-of-sale (POS) system for your store, allowing customers to check out products.
The office supply store industry is recession-proof. This means that there are always people looking for office supplies. So if you want to start your store, you'll need to be sure that you can keep up with demand.
Another critical aspect of starting an office is keeping it organized. Having a calendar, a physical planner, and a bulletin board is a great way to keep track of important information.
A USB flash disk is another useful device. It's a small, inexpensive item that can keep your business organized.
Classifying Them as an Asset or Expense
Classifying office supplies as an asset or expense can be a tricky process. The simplest way to look at it is to consider your net worth. Then, depending on the type of business, you should keep office supplies on your balance sheet or consider them a debt. However, if you are a small business owner, you must maintain records of all deductible expenses. This is important for tax reasons and can save you a lot of money.
When deciding whether to classify your office supplies as an expense or asset, consider the value of the item and the materiality of the purchase. For example, items worth more than five per cent of your total assets should be classified as an asset, and supplies used only for a year should be considered an expense.
Expenses can be in the form of paper, ink, staples, pens, or other consumables. Office equipment includes computers, office machinery, and other electronics. All of these are items that are purchased to run a business.
Keeping Your Business Up and Running
There are many ways to keep your business afloat. One of the most useful is to stock the petty offices with the requisite supplies. Some of the more practical items include the likes of staples, scissors, and rulers. Unfortunately, getting your hands on the supplies above can prove costly. Fortunately, there are plenty of companies that specialize in such services. You can also save a bundle of cash by requiring your employees to make bulk orders for such items as office furniture and filing systems. Office supplies also come in a wide variety of types and brands. This is a good thing since office furniture is costly!
A slick office supplies management plan can go a long way in keeping your afloat, especially if you have a large staff. The best place to start is by assessing the supply above list and your office's inventory. From there, it's a case of implementing a plan and keeping it up to date.
Buying from Minority-Owned Companies
Buying office supplies from minority-owned companies is a way to support your community and the social causes you care about. It's also a way to get the best service and quality at a reasonable price.
Many large organizations can spend little time or money creating a supplier diversity program. However, these programs can be implemented in a variety of ways. Whether hiring a supplier diversity specialist, creating a training program, or partnering with an advocacy group, your company can increase its participation with SWaM businesses.
Office Depot created the Diverse Supplier Catalog in 2009. The catalogue features products from certified small businesses. In addition to the diversity of its suppliers, the catalogue includes testimonials from small business success stories.
Office Depot regularly attends trade shows and seminars sponsored by affiliated councils. They also host an annual vendor fair where minority-owned businesses can meet with the procurement staff.
One certified minority-owned supplier, Faison Office Products, Inc., offers a wide range of office products for the home or office. Some products offered include janitorial and cleaning supplies, stationery, office furniture, and more. As one of the largest minority-owned suppliers in the country, Faison Office Products, Inc. has established itself as a valued partner for many fortune 500 companies.
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Steve’s favorite time of day has always been sunset, when the sky turns various shades of purple and the horizon burns orange, and the heat from the sun starts to leave everything that it’s soaked into throughout the day. Makes the air just a bit muggy on his skin.
He kicks his feet softly, the water encompassing them up to his ankles as he leans back on his hands and looks up at the sky. Listens to the quiet splash as Billy swims to the surface a few feet away.
Even when his hair is soaked, it still hangs in those perfect ringlets.
“Done swimming, pretty boy?” he asks.
Steve looks down at the water. Spreads a smile as Billy swims over to the edge of the pool and sets his hands on the concrete at either side of Steve’s hips.
“Why, you wanna play mermaids with me?”
“Psh. If we did, I’d win.”
“How do you win at mermaids?”
The blond pushes himself away from the edge. Holds his breath and dives under, does a quick summersault, and resurfaces with a grin.
“Water’s my element.” He makes a fist just below the surface and squirts a stream into the air. “I’d like to see you try and beat that.”
“You do realize you’re talking to the guy who was on the swim team for four years and a certified lifeguard for three, right?”
“Yeah, but have you ever swam in the ocean before? I have you beat.”
Steve is silent. Snorts when Billy wiggles his eyebrows and proceeds to kick a wave at him. There are quickly fists wrapping around his ankles and dragging him back into the pool.
It’s anything but gentle – he knows that his skin is already going to be chapped from the chlorine and that his lower back definitely suffered from a scrape just now, to make matters worse, but he’s too busy trying to shove Billy’s head under to care. They’re both laughing. Splashing around with no one around but the forest to see them.
Steve eventually taps out like he always does. Gasps when he’s greeted by air again and just smiles because the blond’s hold on him is suddenly gentle. Large hands settle on his waist, suspend him easily and keep him close.
He dangles his arms around Billy’s neck and wraps his legs around him, just catching his breath as Billy wades through the water.
“See? I always win at mermaids,” he lilts.
“Okay, okay. You got me back in. Now what?”
“Hmm… night swimming?”
Steve chuckles. Cards his fingers into Billy’s hair, cold, wet strands wrapping around his fingers as he does.
“We’ve been swimming all day.”
“C’mon.” Billy lowers them both until just their heads are above the water. “Swimming’s a good workout. Helps shave the pounds off.”
Steve’s smile falters.
He shouldn’t be surprised – he’s been fighting this uphill battle all summer, after all.
“How about I order us a pizza and we crash on the couch?” Steve counters.
“Ugh, you’re gonna be the death of my waistline, y’know that?”
But then they’re wading to the edge. Billy presses a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth before he releases him, watching as the brunet climbs up the latter.
“Actually, I’m gonna be the reason you have the best pizza in town.”
Billy tsks.
Once Steve is out and wrapped in a towel, he snags another one off of the lawn chair and turns around just in time to see Billy drag himself out of the pool. His shorts hug his thighs, and his skin glistens in the setting sun like this lighting was practically made for him.
Sure, his frame isn’t as lean as it was in high school, but Steve’s face still burns red at the sight of him. He almost doesn’t let go of the towel when Billy grabs it.
“When are your folks coming home again?”
“In a few days,” Steve says. “Why?”
“Just wondering if I can stick around for the night. Y’know, without raising suspicion.”
Steve laughs at that. Wraps his towel around his waist and sits on the lawn chair, reclining and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Like my mom hasn’t caught you cuddled up in my bed before.”
“That was back in high school– it’s different now. Less excusable or whatever.”
“What can they do, kick me out? I don’t even live here anymore.”
“They can decide to never pay you to watch their house again, for one,” Billy starts. He drapes his towel over his head and scrunches the moisture out of his hair, leaving it on once he’s finished. “You need the money, dude. I’m not sorry for not wanting to get caught with your dick in my hand.”
“I don’t think that’s the expression.”
Billy points a finger at him and he bites his lip to contain his smile.
“Shut it.”
“Yes sir.”
Steve hums. Watches as Billy takes a seat on the edge of the lawn chair, right at his side.
His posture is slumped. It allows his abdomen to morph into rolls, which Steve admires with kind eyes for a moment. He had only ever dated thin girls back in high school, though, he would have gone out with any pretty girl were she to ask. But they rarely asked.
At one point during his sophomore year, just before he got with Nancy, he had eyes for a certain redhead in calculus. She always wore her hair in braids, one at each side, and she dressed… different. Most of the heavier-set girls stuck to high-waisted pants religeously. Long dressed that covered their knees. That sort of thing.
Abby Wortherd didn’t.
She was an eye-catcher. Had the prettiest smile framed by rosy lips, a face full of freckles, and a fashion sense that could kill. Like, seriously. Steve would have gotten to his knees if she asked him to. But she never did, so he wound up with Wheeler instead, and then she wound up with Byers.
Abby moved to Alaska. Steve was alone for the remainder of high school.
For the most part, anyway.
Still, looking at Billy right now reminds him of how he felt when he looked at her – she had rolls when she sat down, and Steve still ogled at her just the same. Would get his breath caught in his throat when she’d pass by him in the hallways and feel the mean burn of jealousy at the back of his throat when she would climb into Ricky M's car after school.
But this is different.
This isn’t high school. Billy isn’t a girl with soft features and a gentle laugh. His shoulders are broad and every muscle is cut to shape from years of labor, sitting alongside the considerable amount of cushion that he’s picked up over the course of their relationship. He’s completely new territory altogether.
Not to mention that his laugh is probably the most ridiculous thing that Steve has ever heard. Half the time he snorts and the other half he cackles, just rude sounds in general that always have heads turning when Steve jokes with him in public.
“Y’know,” Steve begins, earning Billy’s attention. “I don’t think I’ve been telling you enough how pretty you are.”
Billy huffs at that, but then he shoots Steve a cautious glance.
“If you think I’m pretty, you’re delusional.”
“Guess I’m delusional, then, ‘cause I think you’re gorgeous.”
A faint flush spreads up Billy’s neck as he turns more to face Steve, dropping the towel so it hangs around his neck. Then his brows furrow.
“You’re full of it, Harrington.”
The words come out like he’s issuing a challenge. Steve shifts in his seat. Lets his eyes scan the blond from head-to-toe, and spreads a small smile. Watches as Billy braces himself for whatever comes next.
Challenge accepted.
“Your voice is pretty, for starters. It’s silky and deep, and I could listen to you talk for hours on end about practically anything,” Steve lilts. “The hair, obviously. Your mean sense of humor and your laugh – not the little giggle, the loud laugh, where you toss your head back and howl like a lunatic. I adore all of that stuff about you.” Just when Billy begins to visibly soften, Steve tilts his head to the side. Extends a hand and sets it against Billy’s stomach, which he reflexively sucks in. “And this. I love this.”
He can see in his eyes that he wants to swat his hand away. To call bullshit and stalk out to his car and leave, right here and now. But Billy stays. Doesn’t move from where he sits or make any effort to remove Steve’s hand.
“I don’t,” he mumbles.
“How do you feel about it, then?”
Billy shrugs. Averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck in thought.
“I think it’s an eyesore. That, I dunno, it’s unnattractive and gross.”
“Why?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, how does this feel?”
Steve rubs softly side to side. Feels his lover’s muscles relax ever so slightly.
“... I don’t know.”
This is the first time all summer that Steve has been able to do this. To be granted the privilege of touching Billy like this. He chews his lip as he sits up, sets his head on Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist, both hands now on his stomach.
“I’m not being biased when I say this, Bill,” he coos. “You’re not unnattractive. You aren’t gross for having a tummy. It’s totally normal.”
“You don’t get it, okay? I’ve seen your baby pictures, you��ve been thin your whole life, you don’t– you don’t get it.”
“Maybe I don’t, but I’ve been biting my tongue all fucking summer and I’m dying on this hill whether you like it or not. You don’t need to pick up some crappy diet that all the moms in town are doing, you don’t need to find ways to shave the pounds off, what you need to do is relax and enjoy life.”
Billy is quiet. Eyes focussed down at the wet concrete.
So Steve continues, “Order a burger with all the fixings when we go out, get milkshakes with Max at the diner, just– let yourself enjoy stuff. There’s no point to being thin when the price to get there is total misery on all accounts.”
The porch light turns on. Illuminates the patio with a faint orange glow in the sudden absence of the sun.
For a long moment, the only notable sounds are crickets chirping somewhere close to the treeline. Steve remains close. Keeps his palms smoothing in gentle circles as he listens to his lover breathe softly.
“Why people call you dumb is beyond me,” Billy admits.
His voice is hushed as he speaks.
“Am I getting through, finally?”
“Yeah, Stevie, you are.”
“Good.” Steve presses a kiss to his shoulder and wraps him in a hug. Makes note of how he’s no longer flexing his abdomen. “You ready for the best pizza that Hawkins has to offer?”
“Mhm.”
Steve gives him a hearty squeeze before he gets up. Rounds the chair and holds his hand out for Billy to take, the two of them walking hand-in-hand towards the back door.
Smiles plastered on both of their faces.
---
(@iwigyouknot) <3
#billy hargrove#steve harrington#original background character#harringrove#billy x steve#tw insecurity#tw weight#tw body insecurity#st hcs#ficlet#my writing#chubby billy hargrove#bi steve harrington#they're in love#steve loves his chumby bf
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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.”
#Fred and George#fred weasley#Fred and Goerge Weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x reader imagine#fred weasley x muggle!reader#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley x female reader#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley x gryffindor!reader#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley au#fred weasley angst#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x reader au#professor fred weasley#Harry Potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#Harry Potter Smut#harry imagine
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( ᴍᴀx ᴛʜɪᴇʀɪᴏᴛ . ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ . ᴄɪs ᴍᴀʟᴇ + ʜᴇ / ʜɪᴍ . ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟғ . ) was that 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 '𝐖𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐄' 𝐃𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓 i just saw walking out of city hall ? yeah , it was ! they’ve been in town for about 𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 and are known to be 𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 as well as 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐂 .
———— 🔸 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒
full name. william james dewitt
nicknames. wylie , dewitt
birthdate. april 29th ( taurus )
gender. cis male ( he / him )
orientation. pansexual
relationship. single
familia. ethan dewitt ( brother, deceased )
occupation. carpenter & roofer ( former soldier )
species. werewolf
affiliation. mystic falls pack
———— 🔸 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐏
raised in a single parent home, william couldn’t tell you much about his mother, as she died while giving birth to his younger brother ( ethan ). by pictures alone, though, she seemed to be a beautiful soul, and his father’s stories of her proved that assumption to be true. the two lovers had abandoned their pack, and set off to raise their own little family. william never considered his dad to be a romantic, but the love the senior dewitt held onto for his former wife sure made him seem like one.
as william grew older, it was expected that he take over the family owned carpentry business when the time came, but he really wasn’t interested. instead, he passed off the torch for his younger brother to handle and set off to make a name for himself.
fresh out of high school, he signed up to join the army, movie ideals and hopes of glory swimming in his head. ditched the small town life to be a hero but basic training slapped the dreamer right out of him, he learned discipline and a great deal of survival tactics. and, to his surprise, ethan signed up and was stationed with william a few short years after his own initial depature.
one bonus of signing up was that they fully paid for his secondary education. with the knowledge already gained from the family business, william took a course and wrote several tests to be licensed in carpentry.
he served a full tour of duty overseas, so he has plenty of stories of the various missions he’d been apart of, but there’s also a handful of memories / incidents that he refuses to speak of. while he served honorably, william lowkey hated every minute of his military service.
while on a mission, his squad was ambushed, their humvee was destroyed and fell from a cliff into the river below. william survived the crash and swam out to the wreckage in hopes of finding survivors, only to pull eight bodies back to shore, including his own brother. emotionally traumatized by ethan’s untimely death and the unfortunate fate of his squad mates, william decided to leave the military.
after being discharged, he moved to mystic falls and quickly became involved with the town’s pack, longing to regain a feeling of family that he’d lost with his squad. fast forward a decade, william’s working the trade he had initially turned his back on, helping build around his community.
———— 🔸 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒
dumbass hero syndrome — will stick his neck out for anyone / everyone, even if it means he could end up being a snack. wasn’t able to be there for his brother in his time of need, so in wylie’s mind, helping other people by any means necessary is his only link to redemption.
has reoccurring night terrors, cold sweats, the whole shebang. potentially suffering from undiagnosed ptsd & does well to keep it under wraps with his burly disposition.
started up his own business shortly after settling into town. he’s a certified carpenter & roofer, so he’ll do work for any commercial or residential buildings. probably leaves his business cards all over town, pinned to community boards, stapled to wooden poles, etc.
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The most incredible @ohnomybreadsticks has allowed me to dabble in their Everything’s Going Swimmingly ‘verse for my ‘mermaids’ square of a bingo card. So, without further ado, have some mermaid idiocy.
Keeping a secret was hard. Especially from a loved one. But, Lambert and Cahir had agreed that they would keep this as a surprise, wanting to do something nice for Esekl. It hadn’t been easy and meant a good few months of lean living to save up but it was absolutely worth it. Finally, they were at the edge of the training pool, kitted up and learning about diving. On paper, it was so very simple, they learned to dive in a pool before taking a course out at sea then they were qualified. There was one hiccough though. While Lambert had happily gone in the water and was happily messing around in the water, Cahir was still at the edge of the pool.
“Does the tank not drag you down?” he asked Lambert, mask in hand and fidgeting with it.
“It’s comfortable. Kind of feel like a permanently out and about snail.”
The instructor was kind enough to sit next to Cahir, feet in the water. She smiled warmly at him. “What made you decide to try diving?”
“Eskel. We wanted to surprise him.” The words were shy, just mentioning Eskel felt like a betrayal of sorts.
Thankfully, the instructor was none the wiser about Eskel’s true nature as she asked, “Is he a diver?”
“The most avid you’ll find!” Lambert joined the conversation, chuckling softly at the question. “We’re going to dive with him next time we meet.”
That meant Cahir had to get into the water. He could do it, for Eskel if for nothing else. Mask firmly in place, he allowed Lambert to reach for him and guide him into the water. Swimming was fine, Cahir learned that quite quickly and he was comfortable, paddling around. The next challenge came when he had to go underwater. For a while he watched Lambert flitting about below the surface and all Cahir could think was that he belonged there while Cahit himself was very much a land based creature.
After a fair amount of coaxing, Cahir finally mustered up the courage to dip into the eerily silent of the underwater world. Once under the surface, it wasn’t all that bad and Cahir tentatively managed to get to grips with it. They finished the course, Lambert passing with flying colours while Cahir was adequate.
It would do. The next part of the course was on open water and Cahir spent a good chunk of his time sitting on the edge of the boat, trying to work up the courage to topple into the bottomless ocean behind him. In the end, Lambert may have given him a bit of a push when nobody was looking. They were certified to dive but Cahir didn’t talk to Lambert for a good hour after they got their certificates.
The only thing left to do was pick a time to meet Eskel. They had managed to convince him that it would be fun to hire a boat and go out to deeper waters without raising suspicion. While Lambert fudged the time, he figured that they could meet Eskel in the water. Everything was set up and Lambert could hardly contain his excitement.
Boat hired, equipment stashed away safely, they headed out to the agreed spot. There was zero hesitation in Lambert as he excitedly pulled on his wetsuit, checked his equipment over and waved to Cahir as he rolled back into the water. Unlike his boyfriend, Cahir was much slower, more methodical. Everything was checked and double checked. He even managed to use the ladder at the side of the boat to slip into the water, hesitating about dipping below the surface.
He didn’t expect Lambert to pop up in front of him waving excitedly. Then Eskel appeared too with a warm smile.
“Holy shit Cahir, you have to come and see Esk!” Lambert was all but vibrating with energy. “Fucking majestic.”
Much more calm, Eskel slipped closer to Cahir, arms around his waist and keeping him up with lazy flicks of his tail. “You did this for me?”
“I’m trying,” Cahir replied, embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to meet Eskel underwater as planned. However, it meant that they could kiss without hesitation or fussing with getting breathing apparatus out of the way first.
“He just doesn’t like getting his hair wet,” Lambert quipped with a cheeky grin. Not rising to the bait, Eskel, kissed Cahir again.
“Thank you for trying.”
It made Cahir want to be better, to be able to do this for Eskel and explore his world with him. While Lambert was busy demanding his own kisses, Cahir managed to get ready to go underwater. Once Lambert spotted him, he waved and dipped down. Eskel was there to greet him.
No amount of oxygen or breathing apparatus in the world was going to help Cahir when he was left breathless at the sight of Eskel. Lambert had been right, he was beyond majestic. Not a minute later, Lambert was there, giving the sign for okay which Cahir returned. It was taken them both a while to get used to the fact that thumbs up didn’t mean all was good.
With Eskel and Lambert there, it was almost easy to forget that he was in the ocean with untold depths below him. Cahir was too enthralled with watching Eskel who, in his excitement was doing loops and darting around to burn off some of the energy. They swam deeper, Eskel getting a little nervous as they got closer to what he wanted to show them. It wasn’t a wreckage, those were too popular with divers and he would never get any peace. Instead, they ended up in a cave, the edge of it lined with luminescent algae. The inside was similarly decorated with a carefully woven bed of kelp. Even better, there were trinkets and shells that Cahir was certain they had picked together on the beach over their lunchtime meetings.
Even Lambert seemed subdued as he took in what was obviously Eskel’s home. It was a shame there was no way to speak because Cahir was certain they had a lot to say. Especially when Lambert propelled himself into Eskel, hugging him, safety be damned. Bashful, Eskel looked up at them with a shy little smile. Though it wasn’t a conventional diving signal, Cahir was certain his message would carry loud and clear as he made a heart with his hand.
Ascending back up to the boat was slow, both Cahir and Lambert held one of Eskel’s hands each. Eventually, they popped out of the water and Lambert was the first to wrestle himself free of his kit.
“Fucking hell. Eskel you magnificent soul!” He threw himself at Eskel, uncaring as they dipped below the water as Eskel got Lambert’s full weight in his arms unexpectedly. They resurfaced kissing. Cahir climbed back onto the boat and stripped off the oxygen tank. By the time he got the picnic basket of food out, Lambert and Eskel were sprawled on the back of the boat, basking in the sunshine. While Cahir may not have been a fan of diving, he knew he was going to be doing it again for Eskel and Lambert.
#eskel/lambert/cahir#lambert/cahir#eskel/lambert#eskel/cahir#cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach#eskel#lambert#everything's going swimmingly#tldr: cahir and lambert learn to dive
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All That Glitters
As Durbe continues his impromptu journey with Rio and Ryoga, he learns more about them, including the fact that Mach - his partner, a shiny Rapidash - might not be the only ones Team Rocket could be after.
For @zexalmonth Day 20, the AU day!
Warning(s): Pokémon Trainer AU; Follow-up to this fic Pairing(s): N/A
Read it here on AO3! Commission Info!
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It was growing late that day, the sun beginning to set as the sky began to gently dim. Durbe looked up at the multi-hued sky, a look of thought on his face as he and his companions - twin trainers Rio and Ryoga Kamishiro - made their way towards Fuchsia City. They had been traveling for a few days, Durbe having been the tie breaker between the arguing twins when each wanted to go a separate way: Ryoga to Fuchsia City, and Rio to Celadon City. Ultimately, Durbe had won both twins over by stating that there was a bike path that connected the two cities, and that even though none of them had a bike, they could probably get away with riding two at a time on Mach.
When Ryoga had asked if there was any other way, Durbe had given it a thought, before informing them about the waterways underneath the bike path, saying that if they had enough Water Pokémon between them, they could ride together that way.
Ryoga had looked a little apprehensive at that, but before Durbe could ask about it, Rio spoke up, saying that they could figure it out once they reached Fuchsia City.
That was a handful of days ago. They were so close to Fuchsia City, Durbe half considered walking a couple more hours so they could reach there instead of sleeping outdoors again. Not that he disliked camping with his new friends, but he had to admit, the thought of a mattress as opposed to a sleeping bag was ultimately more appealing. But he and the twins knew it wouldn't be that safe, trekking out while it was dark, so in the end, the three of them took a small detour towards some nearby trees, which looked over a small lake.
As they began setting up their dwellings for the night, Rio and Ryoga let out their Pokémon, to let them spend some time out of their Pokéballs. Durbe watched in amusement as Ryoga let his Magikarp and Greninja out at the lake, Ryoga's Magikarp splashing around happily. Three of his other Pokémon - Gallade, Garchomp, and Gliscor - were meandering around, checking out their surroundings.
Rio's Pokémon, on the other hand, were all staying by her for the most part. Her Alolan Vulpix was by her side as she was setting up her sleeping bag, and her Swablu and Weavile were in a nearby tree, Swablu being perched on a branch, and Weavile being high up, resting its back against the main part of the tree, while it sat on a thick branch. Her Kirlia was tailing Ryoga's Gallade, and her Froslass was swaying between the trees, presumably keeping an eye out for anything that could be perceived as a danger.
Durbe took it upon himself to do the same, letting out his Espurr, and Mach, a shiny Rapidash. Both Pokémon looked at him curiously, before Durbe spoke. "Go on, it's alright."
Mach was fairly quick to venture out on his own, lazily trotting a few paces away and stretching his legs. Espurr, on the other hand, totted over to Durbe, resting a paw on his pant leg. Durbe laughed gently, and nodded down at Espurr. "Ok, ok. You can stick with me." He leaned down slightly then, and whispered, "But stick close, ok? Let's not get you too close to Rio." Espurr nodded in return, the pair of them knowing about Rio's dislike of cat Pokémon.
As the three teens finished setting up their camp for the evening, Durbe noticed something off about the count of their Pokémon. He himself only had Mach and Espurr, a total of two Pokémon. Rio had her five, but at one point shortly after the three began traveling together, Ryoga had mentioned having a full team of Pokémon. So why was Durbe only counting five Pokémon from him? Stealing a glace over to Ryoga, who was settling his backpack by a tree next to his sleeping bag, Durbe counted the number of Pokéballs around his belt. Upon counting six, Durbe blinked, a look of confusion on his face.
"Hey, Ryoga."
Ryoga stood up straight at the sound of Durbe's voice, looking over to the other young man. "What?"
Durbe nodded in Ryoga's direction, looking towards his belt. "Don't you have a full team? Why keep one in its Pokéball?"
Ryoga looked a little hesitant, and looked down at his belt, frowning slightly. "I..." He folded his arms, shrugging slightly. "I'd just rather not let it out just yet."
A look of concern overcame Durbe, and his gaze traveled up to meet Ryoga's. "Is something wrong?" Espurr began toddling over to Ryoga at this point, though the two males kept talking.
"Nothing's wrong, Durbe, I just don't want to let this Pokémon out right now."
"Listen, if it's hurt or something, I have some berries and whatnot to help heal it."
"Durbe--"
The flash of light that accompanied a Pokémon being let out of it's Pokéball shone brightly from Ryoga's waist, as a decently large shadow made itself known in the water. Ryoga went wide-eyed as he looked down to his waist, only to find Espurr at his feet, the small, bipedal feline having used a small portion of its psychic energy to click open the Pokéball that housed his last Pokémon.
All the while this was happening, Rio was merely watching her two companions interact, and watched as Espurr had made its way to Ryoga, letting Ryoga's last Pokémon out of its Pokéball. She, as well as Durbe, looked to the water to see the large shadow that was now present. As Ryoga fumbled to get the Pokéball off of his belt in a hasty attempt to return his Pokémon, Rio approached the lake, and playfully called out, "Sharpedo!"
No sooner than she did that, a pointed purple dorsal fin poked out of the water, more and more of it emerging until the face of a purple Sharpedo with a yellow 'X' on its nose popped out of the water, a happy look gracing the shark Pokémon's face.
"A Sharpedo?" Durbe asked, walking closer to the lake. "I've never seen one in person before."
As Durbe approached the lake, Ryoga's Sharpedo stopped smiling, and glared pointedly at Durbe. It was enough to make the bespectacled male stop in his tracks, before Rio laughed and spoke to Sharpedo again. "Don't worry about him, Sharpedo. Durbe's a friend."
Sharpedo's eyes glanced from Rio, to Durbe, back to Rio again, before relaxing somewhat, allowing Durbe to step closer to the lake. Though as Durbe did, something 'clicked' in his mind. "Wait a second..." He looked over to Ryoga then, and spoke. "This is a shiny Sharpedo...?"
Ryoga, who had been trying to grab at his Sharpedo's Pokéball as it floated in the air thanks to Espurr playing with it using its psychic powers, turned to face Durbe, his lips forming a thin line. "..Yeah."
Durbe looked over Sharpedo once more, kneeling down by the lake as he watched Ryoga's Magikarp happily swam circles around Sharpedo. "I had no clue you also had a shiny Pokémon."
"Ever since coming to Kanto, I try not to flaunt him around." Ryoga murmured, trying once again to grab Sharpedo's Pokéball out of the air. He sighed as Espurr raised the Pokéball high above his head, then watched as the small feline Pokémon made its way to Durbe with Sharpedo's Pokéball. "As much as I love beating the crap out of some Team Rocket idiots, I don't want to lose my Sharpedo to them."
Durbe stood up as he watched Espurr trot over, Espurr mewling and tugging on Durbe's pants leg, plopping the Pokéball in his hands. Kneeling down, Durbe used one hand to pet Espurr's head before gently scolding it against teasing Ryoga like that. He then stood back up, looking at the Pokéball in his hand before looking back to Ryoga. "How long have you had your Sharpedo?"
"Sharpedo was actually my brother's first Pokémon." Rio piped up, taking her eyes off Ryoga's Pokémon in the lake to face Durbe and her brother. At this point, Espurr took the time to walk away from the three trainers, instead going to head towards Mach.
"It was a Carvanha back then." Ryoga explained, motioning for Durbe to toss the Pokéball back at him. Durbe complied, tossing the Pokéball in the air, Ryoga catching it with ease. "I fished alot back home in Hoenn. If I wasn't watching battles on TV or making plans for what I wanted my team to be for when I was finally old enough to be a trainer, I was fishing in the river by my parent's house."
"Every day, he'd fish up all sorts of Pokémon." Rio said, folding her arms. "But because he wasn't a certified trainer yet, he'd have to release them back into the water."
"Until one day," Ryoga smirked, "I reeled in a weird colored Carvanha. Instead of being dark blue and red, it was light blue and green. Not only that, but it was considerably smaller than the average Carvanha. I called my parents, thinking it was sick, but when my father came out to help me, he had me catch it, and said that it was a rare Pokémon, a shiny Pokémon."
"Wow..." Durbe muttered. "So, Sharpedo's been with you since the very beginning."
"Yep." Ryoga nodded, folding his arms as well. "From Hoenn, to Alola, to here. Unfortunately, with Team Rocket being known for stealing other people's Pokémon, I haven't been too fond of letting Sharpedo out when not in a safe area, like a Pokémon center, or a gym."
"I see." Durbe said, looking over to Mach, the equine Pokémon busy entertaining Espurr. "Perhaps I've been too relaxed with letting Mach out so often when we're on the road. I've been so used to him being out on the ranch all the time, that I didn't stop to consider the negative ramifications of him being exposed so much while traveling." A bit of an upset look came over him then. "I don't want to risk Will and Brooks taking him like they constantly tried to at the ranch."
Both twins blinked that the names, them sounding unfamiliar.
"Who are Will and Brooks?" Rio asked.
"The Team Rocket grunts you guys ran into the day we met." Durbe clarified, "Brooks was the female grunt, tall and skinny with short pink hair. Will was the male grunt, short and stocky with lime green hair."
"You actually know their names?" Ryoga asked, an amused look on his face.
"They've come after Mach so many times, my moms and I had heard them call each other by name before."
"Well, regardless of whatever those punks' names are," Ryoga continued, walking over to Durbe, unfolding his arms and placing one hand on Durbe's shoulder. "You shouldn't feel bad about thinking you've been 'too relaxed'. You and Mach are strong together, you've been able to defend yourselves from them." Ryoga gave a cocky smirk then, using the thumb on his spare hand to point at himself. "And besides, you've got me and Rio in your corner. We've got your back no matter what."
Durbe smiled at that, and nodded. "Thanks, Ryoga. I appreciate it."
Ryoga took his hand off of Durbe's shoulder then and began to walk to the lake, looking over his Sharpedo. "I suppose I could be a be more relaxed myself, huh buddy?" His response was a tooth-filled grin from his Sharpedo. "Alright then. You can spend the night in the lake with Magikarp and Greninja."
"I've got your back too, you know." Durbe said, smiling gently. "Mach and I will help you and Rio protect Sharpedo, too."
The two young men shared a look, and Rio smiled herself. "Well, I don't know about you guys," she began, walking in between the both of them and towards their campsite. "But it's about time we get dinner started."
At the mention of dinner, Durbe's stomach growled, and he let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Here, I'll help, Rio."
"I'll keep an eye on the Pokémon, then." Ryoga said, beginning to walk out to where his Gallade and Rio's Kirlia were.
With that, the three trainers took up their respective jobs for the evening, and Durbe couldn't have been more appreciative of his new friends.
#trying this again because it neither wanted to tag the zexal month tumblr nor show up in the tag#Krys writes#Zexal Month#Zexal#Rio Kamishiro#Durbe#Ryoga Kamishiro
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The Bodyguard’s Tale -Chapter 2
<<Previous - Ao3 or ff.net - Next>>
....
Chapter 2
Keith could tell that Lance had been intending to give him the silent treatment for the next few days. The problem? Keith was always around him now, and Prince Lanceon had the patience of a small child.
“Keithyr, I’m bored,” he whined, five minutes after he’d picked up a book to read.
“You could always clean your room,” Keith suggested, sharpening his knife. He’d already patiently refused to become the prince’s cleaning servant, despite Lance’s whining. He knew his duties. He’d done a perimeter check and acquainted himself with most of the prince’s associates and possessions (and why ANYONE would need that many face creams was beyond him….), so he considered himself pretty much caught up as far as bodyguard duty went. For now.
“And my name is Keith, not Keithyr.”
“Really?” Lance sat up, looking interested. “But… you were introduced—”
“By Lotor,” Keith pointed out. “Who we both agree is a jerk.”
Lance snorted in agreement and flopped back down on his bed. “I don’t know what Allura sees in him….”
“The same thing everyone else sees,” Keith sighed, putting away his knife. If he sharpened it anymore, he’d start to weaken the blade. “His charm and charisma.”
“So… your real name is Keith?”
“It’s what my mother named me,” Keith explained. “According to Galra custom, mothers are the ones who ultimately decide the name of their child, even with slaves. My father didn’t like it and tried to name me Yorak instead—hey, stop laughing—but his courtiers and advisers protested, because that was apparently the name of some famous general, and I didn’t deserve it since I was just a half-breed—seriously, stop it, it’s not that funny—so they stuck on another syllable to the name my mom picked to make it sound more dignified. Are you done laughing yet?”
“Sure, Yorak,” Lance chortled, still clutching his stomach. “Oh man, and here I thought you were just trying to be cool like me and shorten your name!”
Keith scoffed. Lance wasn’t exactly his description of ‘cool.’
“What about you? Did they just try to tack on some more letters to make you sound noble too?”
“Nah, Lanceon means ‘everlasting light’ or something in the old language,” Lance said, running his fingers through his hair. It looked relaxing when he did that…. “My mom picked it too.”
Keith snorted, but didn’t laugh. At least Lance knew the meaning of his name. He’d never even set foot on Earth, much less studied any of the languages. All he knew was that his mother had been a human.
“You know what, we need to get outta here! Get the blood flowing!” Lance said, jumping up and stretching.
“Where do you want to go?” Keith asked, also standing and mentally preparing list in his head. He’d have to contact the head of household, the castle guards, probably someone from the space port—
“Have you ever ridden a narwhal?”
“Have I ever WHAT?” Keith asked, flabbergasted.
Lance grinned.
…….
A narwhal, it turned out, was a giant fish with a sword on its nose. Lance tried to explain how it wasn’t a fish, it was a mammal, that wasn’t a sword, it was a tooth, blah blah blah, but honestly, Keith tuned him out the moment he laid eyes on the huge beasts. His mind swam as he tried to figure out why anyone would want to ride one of these—and then Lance was in the water and Keith had his hands full, trying to keep his charge from being impaled or drowned, and yelling out instructions and orders that Lance gleefully ignored.
The result? Two sopping wet princes, panting and exhausted several hours later.
They had actually managed to ride a narwhal for a grand total of less than a minute. Roping them, that Keith could do, but then these suckers dove. As an Altean, Lance could change his body to include gills, but Keith didn’t have that option. He’d almost drowned before Lance realized what had happened and cut them both loose.
“You’re insane!” Keith gasped, coughing up more water and so, so happy to be back on solid ground. “You’re certifiably insane!”
Lance laughed. “Oh, relax, mullet head! If you’d drowned, I could just resuscitate you!” He made kissy motions in Keith’s direction.
“If you ever put your mouth on mine, I will gut you,” Keith growled, ignoring the rising heat in his cheeks.
Lance just laughed again.
“Man, I can’t believe we actually got one!” he said, looking out across the ocean. “This calls for a celebratory drink!”
………
Lance’s idea of a celebratory drink was, of course, to go to the local tavern, get completely smashed, and try to pick up women with increasingly bad lines.
“Hey baby, if I were a fish, I’d be hooked on you!”
Keith facepalmed and sternly reminded himself that someone needed to remain sober, so no, he couldn’t order another drink. He groaned in despair. Lance plopped down in the seat next to him, a handprint still red against his cheek.
“Aren’t you supposed to protect me from all harm?” the prince complained, pointing at it.
“Mmm, I was sure you had her, your grace,” Keith said mockingly.
“Wha—Keith, I can’t hit a woman! It goes against my honor as a prince!”
“Then what was I supposed to do?” Keith asked dryly.
Lance stared at him blankly for a moment. “I don—ugh, I keep forgetting you’re a prince too!” he groaned. “Keithy-boy, why don’t you act like a prince?”
“Because I wasn’t raised like one,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. His current position should be evidence enough of that!
“I bet it’s cause you think you’re better than me,” Lance said, his words starting to slur more and more. Time to cut him off, Keith thought, surreptitiously removing Lance’s cup from the table. Aww, he was cute when he pouted! “I bet you think you’re such a better prince than me, you could get any girl here you want!”
I don’t want any of these girls, Keith thought to himself, raising an eyebrow at his charge. But still, this might work in my favor.
“How about a bet then?” he said out loud, giving Lance a cocky smirk. “If I can get one of these girls to give me her number, you have to go home for the night.”
Lance was too drunk to realize he was being played and readily agreed. It took Keith less than a minute to quietly explain to the party of girls that if they gave him some slips of paper with a fake comm ID on it, he could get rid of the annoying drunk guy at the bar. They agreed gladly, but a few gave him a wink and suggested that the numbers might be real if he actually wanted to give them a call.
He would never understand women.
Of course not, a snide little voice in the back of his head muttered, you’re much too busy looking at the pretty prince you’re supposed to be protecting….
Keith firmly decided to lock that particular voice deep, deep into his subconscious where it would never see the light of day.
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Sweetest Reason to Break a Resolution (Sort of)
Plot: AU He promised his friend to start joining him at the gym to develop a healthy routine in his hectic life. But passing by a cafe with the tempting smells of spices, chocolate, and sugar is enough to make him put the brakes on and reconsider that resolution. Besides, it doesn’t hurt that the person serving up the pastries is a sweet sight to behold.
Rating: PG (Light flirting, Minor language, Minor scolding about habits)
Characters: Masters Student!Namjoon x Baker/Cafe Employee!Reader (any gender), Undergrad Student!Jungkook, plus mention of others
Notes: The idea hit me while I was nibbling on edible cookie dough. I remembered that someone did a funny video compiling all the times Namjoon’s reached for a spoonful or extra helping of something sweet on shows like sugar if they’re baking or squirting a bit of honey into his mouth and it got me thinking about him and baked goods. Please note in this work that Namjoon is a normal weight, but isn’t heavily muscled like Jungkook – the latter is trying to encourage him to make the gym a regular habit. Do not post anywhere else!
“Hyung, you’ll thank me later,” Jungkook said as he led the way, a bounce in his step.
Namjoon yawned as he pushed his glasses up on his nose, sighing as he trudged behind the younger student. He had his student ID in hand, ready to flash at the person behind the counter.
The undergrad student insisted that his elder join him at the university’s gym every morning after the holidays. While Namjoon ate fairly healthy and tended to walk everywhere he could, Jungkook felt that he should find a good outlet after dealing with a stressful schedule. The older boy protested that he handled his stress well – he preferred listening to music or the occasional whale song and often would read lots of books. But sitting and doing solitary things wasn’t good enough for the fit third year, who ordered Namjoon to make a New Year’s Resolution to go to the gym at least two to three times a week.
“Are you going to buy me coffee after this?” Namjoon joked as he put his stuff in a locker.
Jungkook rolled his eyes and said he’d buy Namjoon a protein smoothie. “Besides hyung, you’ll need protein and nutrients to re-hydrate your body.”
“The first workout is the hardest,” Jungkook admitted as he watched Namjoon wobble over to the showers. “Well, first few workouts. When did you last do a regular workout?”
Namjoon ignored the question as he cranked the water on to warm, groaning as he closed his eyes. He wasn’t heavy according to his doctor – maybe he had a bit of softness in his waistline, but he did see faint traces of abs there. (Definitely not anywhere close to Jungkook, who was a certified muscle pig.) He took deep breaths as he let the water run down his body.
“I’m still going to ask for a coffee after this.”
“You really should drink a protein smoothie,” Jungkook sighed as he finished his off. He closed the lid on the bottle and stowed it in his gym bag, reaching into the pocket for his wallet.
Namjoon groaned when he stopped abruptly, noticing the long line at the university cafe. He pulled out his phone and looked up nearby cafes, scrolling until he found one that was less than a block from campus.
“I can still –”
“Kookie, I don’t know how you drink those – they’re chalky and full of weird things made in a factory,” Namjoon sighed.
The pair made their way over to the cafe, following the GPS instructions on Namjoon’s phone. As they neared it, Namjoon inhaled deeply, catching a mixture of strong coffee, chocolate, and something sweet wafting through the air. His eyes opened and he turned to check the door, making sure it was the right place. His hand gripped the handle and he pulled the door open, holding it for Jungkook.
“Good morning, welcome!” you called out from behind the counter. You dried your hands off and waited by the register as the pair walked in, eyes going from the boards overhead to the displays of fresh pastries.
“Joonie,” Jungkook warned as Namjoon made a beeline for the case holding pastries.
“Freshly made – the multigrain muffins came out half an hour ago and I just put the croissants in there,” you said. “Today’s special croissant is a berry compote stuffed one with white chocolate on top – the compote’s made in house.”
Despite the younger’s protests to focus on the coffee only, Namjoon pointed to the special croissant, asking for one to go in a bag. You smiled as you reached for gloves and a bag to put it in.
“Can I get you any coffee, tea...?” you trailed off.
“House brew please,” Namjoon added.
Jungkook stepped forward and said he was paying for the coffee.
“So is the croissant separate?” you asked.
“Yes, I only agreed to get him the coffee after kicking his butt in the gym this morning,” the young man admitted.
You shot Namjoon a sympathetic look and murmured, “New Year’s Resolution? I’m sorry then for tempting you with the carbs – probably not helping there.”
Namjoon looked up from the case and shook his head. A sheepish look crossed his face and he replied that he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. You nodded to show you understood as you finished Jungkook’s transaction, then retrieved a to go cup for the coffee.
Jungkook slid the cup to Namjoon, the latter pulling out his wallet to pay for the croissant.
“Since I’m terrible and probably ruined your first day of progress on that resolution, it’s on the house,” you confessed.
He blinked and stammered that he couldn’t accept it for free. “You’ve, you’ve got to run a business. I can’t do that!”
You shrugged and looked around the cafe with an amused look. “It’s my brother’s cafe – he said I’m in charge while he’s on his honeymoon, so I think I can stand to give away a free croissant. I can assure you that I’m not putting any fake ingredients or crap in the baked goods – I make it all fresh here. So maybe it’s not the healthiest thing post-workout, but it’s better than a processed thing with hell knows what.”
Namjoon accepted the bag and bowed deeply, thanking you for your generosity. He retrieved the coffee cup and followed the younger student back to campus.
“Joonie!”
“What? I worked out and I didn’t eat before the workout like you told me,” Namjoon sighed. “I have back-to-back classes today and I don’t want my stomach making noise in class.”
Jungkook groaned and declared that he could already see his elder failing the resolution. Namjoon frowned as he took a long sip from his cup.
“So did he give up already Jungkookie?” Jimin asked.
“Hey, you guys talking about me?” Namjoon demanded as he joined the pair, hoisting his messenger bag higher on his shoulder.
Jimin smiled innocently and repeated his question, adding that Jungkook shared the post-workout meal from the first day.
“Hyung, are you even trying? I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you in the gym when I’ve gone the last couple of days,” Jungkook said. “Hoseok said he ran into you when you were going to that cafe again.”
Namjoon sighed as he dug his phone out, scrolling until he found the Health app that tracked his steps and workouts. He tapped it and changed the view to a weekly view, holding it up for the younger boys to see. Jungkook blinked as he looked at the screen and Jimin clapped.
“I’m sorry hyung,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat back. “I guess you had to move things around to fit your schedule – I sometimes forget how close you are to finishing your Masters.”
Namjoon shrugged as he put his phone away. “I did run into Seokjin-hyung a couple of times – he can vouch for me. Oh and yesterday, I swam for 45 minutes – my phone couldn’t log that.”
“It’s good to change it up, or else it gets boring,” Jimin replied with a nod. He cupped his chin thoughtfully and mused about the cafe that everyone was talking about.
Jungkook stretched an arm out and began showing the directions to get there from the university campus cafe.
Jimin paused, then it dawned on him that he had passed the establishment a few times. “I heard they’re pretty new,” he added. “Think it’s a family business?”
“We met the younger sibling of the manager,” Namjoon replied. “They’re really nice and it’s a quiet space to do work.”
Jungkook snickered as he crossed a leg over the other. “Or you like it hyung, because they give you pastries for free.”
“ONE TIME!” Namjoon sighed as he threw his hands up. “I’ve paid and tipped the last few times I’ve gone!”
“You’re right hyung – it is nice,” Jimin remarked as he took a seat near the windows.
Namjoon pulled out his third draft of his thesis for review and Jimin scanned the counter, looking for their order. He watched as you made your way over, carrying two cups of coffee.
“Here are those Americanos guys,” you announced as you placed each mug carefully on the table.
Jimin beamed and thanked you, pulling his mug closer to cup his hands around.
Namjoon looked up from his thesis and smiled as he stared at the cup, then you. “Thanks so much Y/N.”
You nodded and added that his cookie would be out shortly. “They’re going to be fresh out of the oven – you like soft or crunchy?”
“I’m not picky,” he confessed. “Surprise me.”
“Okay got it,” you promised. You turned to head back, passing your brother along the way.
“So, is that the –”
“Shut up,” you cut him off, throwing him a death glare. "He ordered a cookie. Stop reading too much into it.”
Jimin lifted his mug and took a tiny sip, trying not to burn his tongue. He sighed as the balanced flavors lingered on his tongue and he nodded in approval. “I think this is better than the campus cafe. They always screw it up, or at least mine’s never right.”
Namjoon took a sip from his mug as he flipped to the next page, sighing as he read the comments for improving one of the paragraphs. He became engrossed in the paper that he didn’t realize you had returned with the cookie.
Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw how large it was – the plate seemed nonexistent, as the cookie was big in diameter. He inhaled deeply and hummed, wishing he had ordered one too.
Almost as if the elder could read his mind, Namjoon spoke up, “You can have some, ChimChim. I don’t think I can eat the whole thing.”
“So, how’s the resolution going?” you asked.
Jimin reached for the cookie and broke off a piece. “Well, apparently Joonie’s actually working out still. Our friend thought he gave up after the first day, but hyung’s been fitting it into his busy schedule.” He chewed the piece slowly, moaning as the dark chocolate chips and dark brown sugar flavors melded together.
You tilted your head and asked if the friend was the guy who bought him coffee the first day.
Namjoon reached for the cookie and confirmed it was the same person. “I don’t eat that badly out of our friends, but he thought I needed to visit the gym more regularly. I’m not able to sync my workouts with his because I’ve got my thesis to work on and he’s busy with other things.”
“He looked like a gym rat to me,” you remarked with a shake of your head. “He probably sees me as pure evil for tempting you with baked goods.”
Namjoon smirked as he broke off a piece of the cookie and added that the youngest wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. “Bread is his weakness – pasta, pizza...I’ve seen him down chips in one sitting. I’m talking the full sized bag by the way.”
You chuckled as you glanced over at the display. “I guess I’ll have to try my aunt’s cheese buns on him if he ever ventures in here again.”
“Start again.”
Namjoon groaned as he slumped over the podium, burying his head in his arms. He mumbled something like, “S’matter with that one?”
Seokjin sighed as he folded his hands on the table. “You started to rush things and your sentences were becoming run-ons. Hard to understand what you were saying and what the point was of your argument. You need to take a deep breath, relax, and speak from your mind. You have a solid paper, but the presentation is just as important.”
“I know, I know!” Namjoon sighed with a huff. He was tired of rehearsing his thesis defense in front of Seokjin; the pair had been practicing for almost an hour. While the former had a few days before the actual presentation took place, he was trying to cram in all of the practice he could get.
Seokjin checked his watch and shot him a sympathetic smile. “Joonie, how about we take a break and try tomorrow? Would you like to take a walk? Do you want to go to your favorite cafe?”
“I really shouldn’t be eating this late at night,” Namjoon said.
Seokjin rolled his eyes and rose from his chair, dismissing the statement. “You don’t have to buy anything. Maybe you can get some tea or something.”
“They’re closed,” Namjoon sighed when they reached the cafe, noticing the sign was flipped on the door.
The older male frowned as he squinted to see inside, pointing when he saw someone move inside the cafe. “But there’s someone inside! Maybe if we get their attention –”
“No Jin-ah, let’s go,” Namjoon huffed as he started to drag the other away. He hadn’t gone more than two steps from the door when he heard the lock being turned and he looked up to see it was you.
“Everything all right?” you asked. “I was debating if I try pawning the remaining case stuff on random people or tossing them.”
“DON’T TOSS THEM!” Seokjin declared, horror flashing across his face. He dug around in his pockets for his wallet and you bit back a laugh at his dramatic reaction.
“Okay then, looks like you guys got lucky – let me get those bagged up for you,” you replied with a smile. You stepped to the side to let them in before closing the door and heading to the back to package up the pastries.
Namjoon lingered by the counter and he rested his hands on top, calling out an apology for bothering you so late.
“No worries – you saved me from tossing perfectly good cookies and rolls,” you called from the back. “Late night for both of you?”
“Thesis practice,” Namjoon grumbled.
“Oh that’s why you had that long-ass paper with the marks across it,” you recalled. “Good luck with that. I’m guessing it’s right around the corner?”
“Yeah it’s Thursday,” Namjoon said. “How much do we owe you?”
“Nothing,” you stated as you emerged with 2 full bags. “I’m not taking a single penny. Normally I’m stuck tossing the extras out or giving them away – they don’t last forever when you make them fresh every day.” You explained that the cookies were in one bag and the rolls were in another.
Seokjin put away his wallet and bowed deeply, saying that he appreciated the kind gesture.
“Starving college student life is real,” you confirmed. “I should be thanking both of you for saving me from throwing these out.”
The pair took the bags and thanked you, Seokijin adding that he was happy to take the leftovers from the cafe any time.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed. “Have a good one!”
“FREE PASTRIES?!” Jimin almost yelled. He pouted and looked from Jin to Namjoon.
“It was a few nights ago,” Namjoon sighed. “Sorry ChimChim. We took a break and walked by. They said the stuff leftover would have been tossed if we didn’t take it.”
“A crime,” Jin uttered with a shake of his head. “I’m so glad we went. Now I know why you like that cafe so much Joonie – they really know how to bake!”
Jimin smirked as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or, Joonie-hyung has a big crush on the baker who works there.”
Namjoon whipped his head around and began to protest, cheeks flooding with color. The pair watched his reaction and shot him identical looks, indicating that they didn’t believe the masters student.
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Namjoon huffed.
“Go ask them out,” Jimin replied.
“I’ll close up,” you said, glancing over at your brother.
He paused and checked the schedule, trying to remember if it was really your turn. You rolled your eyes and jerked your head at the door.
“You should go home – your wife told me to tell you to be on time tonight,” you added. “That’s all I’m allowed to say.”
He sighed as he removed his apron and hung it on a hook. He retrieved his jacket and tossed you the cafe keys. As he slid his arms into the sleeves, he asked if you were hoping to see the tall student stop in.
“What is with you?” you demanded as you turned to face him.
He shrugged his shoulders and fixed the collar on his jacket. “Look, I know you hate when I do the whole ship thing, but this guy seems interested. Why else would he bother to visit a small business that has no loyalty program other than a student discount on a regular basis? Plus I’m pretty sure he looks happy to see you.”
You turned back to the mixer, flicking it on so you could tune out your brother. He took that as his cue to leave, yelling that he wanted you to text him when you were home safely.
Initially you felt bad for being a terrible influence on the handsome masters student, always asking if he wanted something else to accompany his regular medium cup of house brew coffee. But it was hard to describe the feeling you got when he would take a bite of whatever pastry you made, watching as his eyes closed to form little crescent moons, full lips curving into a smile, and dimples forming in his cheeks after savoring each bite. He wasn’t the first customer who became an avid fan of the bakery’s offerings, but he certainly made it clear in his reactions that he was satisfied with what he bought.
You turned the mixer off and strained your ears to hear someone calling from the front. You walked out to the shop front and saw it was him.
“Good evening, the usual?” you asked as you stood by the register.
He flashed a smile at you and shook his head. His eyes scanned the menu boards and you spoke up, asking if he was willing to test something for you. He tilted his head at the offer and you looked over your shoulder at the back.
“I’ve been getting requests from some of the patrons about offering vegan options, so I’m working on a test,” you said. “It’s nothing weird, I promise. I’m trying to make edible cookie dough balls, but I wanted to try them out on someone else to make sure they taste good enough that anyone would like them.”
He beamed and rested his hands on the counter. “You had me at cookie dough.”
“I want you to be brutally honest,” you told him as you placed a plate of cookie dough balls before him. You had made 3 flavors – chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, and peanut butter.
Namjoon hummed as he stared at the plate, fingers hovering over as he tried to decide which one to start with first. He selected the peanut butter and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.
“It’s good,” he commented after swallowing.
“But?”
“Oh no ‘but’ – it’s good. I’ll admit I’m more of a Nutella guy,” he replied with a sheepish grin.
“Oh that’s a good one! I’ll add that as an option to try later,” you said with a smile.
You passed over a glass of milk and he took a sip. His free hand picked up the snickerdoodle and he bit into it. He twitched his nose and you leaned forward nervously.
“Sorry, the cinnamon’s –”
“I should have backed off,” you confessed. “I went a bit heavy – did it hit you hard?”
“I’m okay,” he said as he took another sip from the glass. “I think that could be a good one too. Maybe not for me.”
You nodded as you made notes in your head about the recipes, easy adjustments to make so far.
Namjoon put his glass down and sighed. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, when did you learn to bake so well? I mean, everything I’ve tasted is amazing.”
You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment and you folded your hands on the table. “It’s sort of a family thing – Auntie always did rolls, Gran’s thing was cookies, and Uncle likes making danish. My brother’s no good at baking, but everyone in the family hated the thought of him outsourcing the bakery goods from a outside vendor. So he asked if I wanted a job after culinary school and I said sure.”
“I can tell you really love it,” he confessed. “Then again, I’m weak for sweets so anything sweet makes me happy.”
“Are you sure I didn’t ruin things with you and your friend?” you asked. “I know resolutions are hard to keep, especially exercise and diet related ones.”
Namjoon paused as he picked up the chocolate chip cookie dough ball. “He doesn’t know this, but I’d work out before coming here. You know, to justify eating one of your delicious pastries. He never said I had to change my diet completely – he only wanted me to add regular gym visits into my schedule.”
He took a bite of the ball, closing his eyes with a nod. After he swallowed, the rest of the ball was popped into his mouth and he flashed two thumbs up.
“Your favorite, huh?”
“Definitely,” he confirmed. He licked a small smear that was caught at the corner of his mouth and smiled.
“Should I grab the rest of the bowl for you to enjoy? Oh and by the way, I’m not charging you for these – they’re samples,” you said.
“Oh come on, I should comp you for the ingredients!” he whined.
“No it’s fine,” you insisted. You rose from your seat and grabbed the plate, promising to return with the bowl.
Namjoon watched as you headed to the back and called out, “You should grab two spoons.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m sharing it with you.”
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My Culture
Once Upon A Time I had twins and a family and house and everything was perfect. Until November 13, 2015 happened. As I was trying to escape and abusive relationship with my ex Gawain “Rush” Wilson, he decided to pull out his AR-15 and take fire. Killing my father, twins Reese and Rose who were only 5 months old. Also shooting me 7 times. He then committed suicide thinking everyone was dead but I survived obviously. That event made me who i am today. It strengthened my faith in ways i never expected. I proved to myself that I am so strong and can get through anything. Having to relearn how to walk, read with one eye, function without my daughters and father. My culture is more than that though, I have a twin brother and growng up with him meant i had a best friend from the minute we were concieved. We are still best friends. Also the religion that i grew up in and still practice today shaped my lifestyle and morals. I grew up in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Also known as the mormon church. Granted Im a total rebel, Ive smoked and partied and drank. Working in a hookah bar at the age of 18. Having children outside of marriage and continuing to live with their father even though we weren't married was a huge no no. I grew up in Jacksonville florida lived in the same room for 21 years of my life. Growing up in a southern lower middle class family really instilled some morals and values like respecting your elders and working hard. My dad wanted to raise us to be the best we could be and wanted us to be the hardest workers we could be. Age the age of 11 i started babysitting, i even took a class to be certified. From then on i was a goal getter and hard work was something i craved. In high school i found out i was hard of hearing, i had tumors in both my ears which means one i had to have surgery to remove them and two i needed to wear hearing aids. I learned sign language and became part of a new culture. A new way of life and communication. Now i am in a wheelchair for long distances so I'm finding myself in a new type of culture I've never experienced before and that is the disabled life. Im now in a special club i never knew existed. In life i was always a daddies girl, he was everything that i needed as a father. Now that my father is gone i have a step dad and that is part of my culture. Learning to accept him as part of my family and now me and my bonus dad are closer than ever. He protects me and wants the best for me. Having a male in my life that i can look up to and seek guidance from is really important. I was a swimmer i swam competitively for 7 years. Year round team and school teams. Swimming was everything, i was not very good but it got me in shape and kept me in shape. Fitness used to be a huge part of my life. I played 3 sports my 7th grade year, and wasn't really good at any of them but i continued to push through and try. High school peaked for me my junior year. I was the first graduating class of atlantic coast high school. Which was amazing to be apart of. And with being that first graduating class we got away with a lot of stuff. Part of my culture is being the rebel and testing the boundaries all the time. My life is compiled of so many events, but they all added to my life and created my culture. created who i am and what i want to be. Now that I'm in the last class i need for my AA i plan on going into the business management bachelors program at fscj. I also may be moving to texas at the end of the semester so i guess we will see where this life takes me. And texas is a huge culture in itself that i love to experience on a regular basis and can't wait to move there and experience it everyday.
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Digital Marketing and Website Design Services
The Childress Agency is a certified Service Disabled Veteran-Owned Small Business (SDVOSB), and SWaM certified, digital marketing agency in Fredericksburg, and Tysons Corner, VA.
We believe success comes from empowering our clients through an effective multi-faceted marketing strategy and creative thinking. Building beautifully designed projects that accelerate your brand through unique user experiences. We focus on providing clients with bold, creative brand identities and beautiful custom websites. www.ChildressAgency.com
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Twisted Pair Technologies (TPT) was founded by Bradley Taybron on April 16th, 2012. We are currently based out of Chesapeake, Virginia and serve the 7 Cities and surrounding areas. Our purpose is to provide the best network and computer systems support for our clients at an affordable price. Twisted Pair Technologies is certified by the Small Business Administration as a Veteran-Owned, and Small, Women and Minority-Owned (SWaM) business. In 2019, we merged with another development company to provide even more services to our clients than ever before. Our personal philosophy, which is integral to Twisted Pair Technologies’ business values, is to treat all clients with respect and courtesy. Twisted Pair Technologies will act with integrity in all relationships and will strive for professional excellence in all services provided. We look forward to providing the Level of Support you Deserve
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COVID Story: Breathe 4 Me CPR experiences...
Breathe 4 Me CPR provides professional training services, safety consulting, and healthcare supplies to businesses, to help keep their employees safe. As a small business, the company looks to grow while continuing to provide great service. Learn how SAP helped them achieve exponential growth in just 5 months.
COVID Story: Breathe 4 Me CPR experiences...
As a SWaM certified small business, Breathe 4 Me CPR is constantly looking for ways to grow their business while continuing to providing great service to their customers. Find out how they used Ariba Network to grow their business despite a global pandemic.
SAP Get Social
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COVID Story: Breathe 4 Me CPR experiences...
Breathe 4 Me CPR provides professional training services, safety consulting, and healthcare supplies to businesses, to help keep their employees safe. As a small business, the company looks to grow while continuing to provide great service. Learn how SAP helped them achieve exponential growth in just 5 months.
COVID Story: Breathe 4 Me CPR experiences...
As a SWaM certified small business, Breathe 4 Me CPR is constantly looking for ways to grow their business while continuing to providing great service to their customers. Find out how they used Ariba Network to grow their business despite a global pandemic.
SAP Get Social
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You never know what small thing will set off a cascade of memories. I was driving along, running an errand, when I went right by this construction site. The first thing I noticed was that the external rigid insulation wrap on the framing was green instead of pink. It’s the type of thing it would be normal for me to notice, as I spent over thirty years as an assessment official, specializing in commercial properties. I measured and examined them, ultimately determining their market value for the purpose of property taxes. Where I live, those values are critical for generating revenue for local taxing districts like schools, parks and municipalities. This particular location touched a nerve with me. The building that used to be there was once the home of the Prairie Dispatch, an alternative community newspaper I worked on with Michael and some other friends in the early 1970’s. We were legit. We had real press passes. This is how it’s listed in the University of Illinois Library System.
Title: Prairie Dispatch (Urbana, Ill. : 1973)
Alternate Title: City: Champaign-Urbana, Illinois Country: United States ThFrequency: Bi-Weekly Language: English Subject/Audience: Alternative
Here are some photos of Michael and me in the office with another friend. We did everything, wrote columns, took and developed photos, designed and ran ads, and did layout. We even covered Richard Nixon in Pekin, Illinois. I wrote articles and shot and developed photos. Only one year into our relationship in 1973, Michael and I had many a frolic in the darkroom on the second floor. We all ate so many doughnuts from the Mr. Donut across the street. We kept long work hours, this volunteer newspaper being a sideline activity, not our day jobs. Sugar rushes and coffee kept everyone going. This was almost 50 years ago. Soon no one will associate these memories with that street corner.
Here’s another new building going up in another part of town. Like muscle memory, my brain still notices them, along with other building changes that are going on in our community. The countless hours I spent driving through every nook and cranny of my hometown streets was referred to by assessment officials as viewing. I spent most of my time viewing either by myself or more frequently with Joanne.
Joanne and I have quite a story. My apartment in 1970 when I was a junior in college was in the house on the right side of this photo. Joanne rented a house located directly behind me. We were living in the midst of the alternative community, active in the anti-war movement, and trying to live outside “the establishment.” When we met, we became instant friends. She was a year ahead of me in school. She was also a much better student than me. I was always flying by the seat of my pants – Joanne, the fastest typist I knew besides my friend Fern, would invite me to her kitchen where I’d dictate papers straight out of my head and she’d tap away until they were finished. A lifesaver. She told me she just liked hanging out with me. How lovely. In those days, Joanne was, and actually still is, a wonderful cook and baker. In her spare time back then, she prepared food for a hundred or so at Metamorphosis, the community restaurant where we ate soup, rice and vegetables, lentils and the like. I can still see Joanne coming out of the kitchen, with a steaming bowl of something that was tasty and cheap.
In the summer of 1971, I met Michael. What I didn’t know at the time was that Joanne and Michael had attended the same high school in a suburb of Chicago. Although just friendly acquaintances, they got along well. She told me that he was so skinny back then that if he was standing sideways the only way you knew a person there was because he had a nose that marked his spot. She remembered that he played tennis, swam and was generally a really nice person. This little bit of history added a new layer to my friendship with Joanne. Nice. The following April, when Michael and I transitioned from friends to partners, she was one of the people who really believed we were going to be successful together, unlike some others who thought we were a mismatch, a disaster waiting to happen. Around then, Joanne introduced me to her friend Janet, a journalism student who was taking a photography class at the time. It was Janet who took these wonderful black and white photos which thankfully, still hang in my home 47 years later.
In the fall of 1972, Michael and I moved but we always stayed in touch with Joanne. In a matter of a few years, she had a job working for our local county government, while I went from working at a bank to managing several hundred campus apartments for a family firm. We were smart women who didn’t have a specific career path. We had jobs. Her work led her into understanding that our local assessor’s office was badly in need of reform. I was detesting my job, working for people who were sorely lacking a moral compass as they took advantage of their captive university student tenants, by building shoddy apartments with steep rents. In the spring of 1977, Joanne ran for township/city assessor and won. She called me and said she knew absolutely nothing about commercial property. I said I only knew about apartment buildings and she said that was good enough for her. On January 1st, 1978, she took office and immediately appointed me auditor/appraiser which eventually became chief deputy assessor. I hurriedly took 60 hours of classes, several exams and by mid-year, attained my professional designation as certified state assessment official. For all the decades we held office, we took classes every year to increase our knowledge and further the professionalism we felt the positions required. We had two other staff members, a deputy assessor and a secretary/receptionist. The four of us were to bring our township office into the modern world, eliminating backroom deals for taxes and establishing real fairness in the burden of taxation throughout our city. We administered a program for tax relief for senior citizens and made it our business to find them all and take care of them. Our aim was to become the model government unit in our field, in our state. And we did.
It was a heady business. We computerized all our records and updated every piece of property in town. We went “viewing” which meant driving around, measuring buildings old and new to make sure we had correct records. We learned our city street by street, alley by alley. We went from the office to the car to the office. We’d both gotten married. But basically, we spent more time with each other than anyone else in our lives, including our husbands and ultimately our kids.
This was our little office building. We used one half of it while the other was used by the township supervisor whose primary task was to minister to those people who came upon hard economic times, and who didn’t qualify for other social services. We started out in a small space and eventually built an addition. All four of us shared one room with a side office for Joanne. Later, she moved into the addition and I got her space with a door for privacy.
Joanne was a few years older than me as I’d skipped a year of school early in my life and she, like Michael, had graduated a year ahead of me. In a way, transitioning from a friendship to the additional roles of being coworkers, was similar to what Michael and I had done with our relationship. Again, I was so lucky because the change was basically effortless. We worked really hard in our first few years and we got along well. But we were also getting into our 30’s and tit felt like it was getting to be the time to think about babies, not just work.
We two revolutionary young women were moving along into the next stages of life. Joanne had the first kid. I was with her at the hospital and at her house the day after her son was born. She and I were so different. I knew I’d want a private space around me when my turn came but she had a different attitude and that was fine. Thinking back, it’s remarkable how we approached life in such different ways. She was very relaxed and not one who was constantly plunging around in emotional spaces while I was intense and fiercely probing all the time. Once when we’d taken a number of our continuing education classes together, she told me she couldn’t sit next to me on test day because my vibes were too palpable and distracting. Hah! Our work goals were similar as were our intellects, but we had crazy-different styles. I think it’s magical how we worked together. I handled a lot of the confrontations that work required and almost all the letter-writing. She was the statistician and planner for tackling the mathematical issues. Numbers were never my strong suit although I improved over the years. We complemented each other without knowing that was how things would work before we started.
When I got pregnant, Joanne threw us our baby shower. I think the only real conflict we ever had was that she was eager for me to return to work faster after my baby was born, while I wanted to hunker down and be absorbed by my new little universe. We got past that. Eventually I returned to the office and the viewing and the sharing of our life together.
The years passed quickly. We had more kids. We attended their birthday parties. When she had her kids, I came to the hospital or watched the older ones until she came home. As we drove along, doing our job, we talked about politics, our families and our personal issues. We went through our parents’ aging, failing and eventually dying. The year after my father died, I took my mom and my kids on a trip to Williamsburg, Virginia which had been a lifelong dream of my mother’s. We were also going to see some Civil War sites, which was my dream as I’d spent years reading and studying about what was to me, an unfathomable moment in history. We did the Williamsburg part and then it was on to Richmond. We’d no sooner arrived when my mom attempted the impossible, a walk up three flights of stairs on a bad knee. By the time she descended, she was so crippled she couldn’t walk. I was devastated. The next day, we piled into the car and headed home.
Joanne felt awful for me. The next year she offered to take a Civil War road trip with me. She said I could be in charge of all the planning and that she’d be happy to go along and listen to me talk. Oh, and that she’d pay for all the accommodations and food while I could pick up incidentals and gas. Who does that kind of thing? Joanne does. We took our trip and had a fantastic time. We threw in Monticello and she ate George Washington’s peanut soup recipe at a Williamsburg inn where we stopped for more history. I think that trip was the most selfless thing anyone outside my family has ever done for me. A mere thirty years ago.
We were getting older. Our different styles were beneficial in our personal lives. I was good at the emotional stuff. If her kid was driving her crazy and she was at the end of her rope, I could step in and help by taking on some of those conversations. When my sister had an accident out of state, and was coming home temporarily disabled, Joanne, a better money manager than me, had her house cleaned from top to bottom. When Joanne and her husband needed a getaway, her five year old daughter came to live with me. When my washing machine broke, she bought me a new one. Joanne hosted multiple fundraisers for political candidates. I always made my special and popular chicken liver pate as a contribution for the buffet. I remember bringing my daughter to one of those where we met Barack Obama when he was running for the Senate. I made him a plate of food after he spoke. Joanne always sent me home with a fair share of leftovers. We traded recipes. Her family liked my sausage-potato-broccoli bake with cheese. Mine was partial to her blueberry spice cake. I also remember a wild New Year’s Eve when Michael and I stopped by her house before heading to Chicago. I tasted her fabulous chicken drumettes in plum sauce which were unforgettably delicious. Decades later, I prepared them for my daughter’s law school graduation party. And by the way, you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted a slice of her cheesecake.
Joanne’s had more surgeries than me and I’ve been with her through all of them. After back surgery, she called me way too quickly from the recovery room. I dashed to her hospital room to join her and asked how she felt. She replied, “ I’m just sitting here being totally catatonic.” We both roared. After a particularly rough knee surgery she was hooked to a machine that promoted circulation in the wounded leg. It was driving her crazy and she was in significant discomfort. I sat there, pushing her pain button for the morphine drip every ten minutes because she just couldn’t do it.
Our kids were growing up. When my daughter got married, Joanne was there, as she’d always been from the beginning. When my kid was laid up by knee surgery and Michael’s cancer required me to be with him, Joanne helped out by driving my girl around town. Her generosity to my family was unending. Here’s a lovely photo of the two of them at my daughter’s wedding. And of course there’s one of us as well.
I attended her son’s wedding, too. We loved giving each other’s kids presents. Eventually they started having their own babies. Because her house was bigger, Joanne hosted my daughter’s baby shower. When her grandchildren were born, I sent them gifts as if they were mine. The truth is, all of our kids and their partners and their children belong to both of us. Sounds strange but it feels that way – an emotional investment that extends to all of them.
Somehow or other, over thirty years went by. Because I was a few years younger than everyone else in the office, I had a longer time to go before I could finish up. What a traumatic experience when everyone’s retirement time arrived. We’d spent a lifetime together. So much had happened between us, especially between Joanne and me. The final day came, we had the requisite party and cake and then I went back to work.
It was awful. I lasted 10 months. My daughter was pregnant and I offered to provide day care if they could pay my health insurance. They agreed and I took early retirement. That was a decade ago. In the ensuing years, Joanne and I have seen less of each other. How could it be otherwise as we’d gone from essentially being together for 40 hours a week to now being in our own spaces? Still, we were viewing in a different way. I’d do my driving and she’d do hers, but we’d call each other to compare notes on anything interesting that we’d noticed. We remain fast friends. Seeing each other or not doesn’t matter. She’s still thoughtful and generous, dropping off treats from her trips to Chicago that remind of the tastes and smells of my childhood. There’s some inexplicable, ropey, psychic connection between us that’s hard to describe. It’s unbreakable intimacy which is steady and reliable whether I see her or not. When I start feeling her or hearing her in my head I reach out and invariably she’s feeling me too. Neither one of us is religious but it is a powerful force. I think it’ll last forever. One of life’s gifts to me.
Viewing with Joanne You never know what small thing will set off a cascade of memories. I was driving along, running an errand, when I went right by this construction site.
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