#and i was hoping to ask my teacher tomorrow for an extension or something bc i just have a lot of shit to do rn

[kuiinncedes]

lmfao just a bunch of complaining <3

[ton-e]

Lol ok so I didn't wanna do aesthetics so I wanna brainstorm possible scenes instead

Ok so the premise is, basically, Viktor, an aspiring kid looking to enter this straining affair of the boxing world. He's young and impressionable and he's got something to say. Something that old underground New York pubs and junior gyms don't provide enough eco for.

Barnes, a big shot star in the 80s, is pretty much known as the best of the best there, holding the impressive score of 34-1. (Tho I don't know if it can count as a victory since he wasn't even there for the fight, anyway) but after a near fatal shooting which happened right before his big championship match with Rollins, a bullet piercing his right shoulder which leads to the amputation of his limb, he dissapears into the shadows. The world moves on.

I like the idea of Barnes being trained by Mary who was in his exact same spot years ago but had to give up her career to have Anthony which she doesn't regret! Between her heart problems and the growing annoyance of public attention, a baby is practically a blessing and if it puts Jarvis and Howie to rest then it's a bonus. (I also kind of like the idea of her having only losing once and it was against Maria lol)

And maybe Viktor goes to her first but, while she does seem fond, like she's looking at an old memory twice, she refuses. "Kid, I'm gonna tell you exactly what I told my old pain in the ass when he stood in your spot: I can't."

"Why?"

"Because us Carbonells train to kill, not fight. Alright, what you think boxing is, - this cookie-cutter bullshit version you kids have today? The civilized conversation, the heavy editing, the contracts promising defenses, - that doesn't mean shit. Apollo Creed had a contract.

Muhammed Ali had a contract. So did Jimmy Doyle, Frankie Cambell, and Brad Connels. A sheet of paper can't protect you from the ring, and I'm not having another kid on my conscience. Besides, these guys? They have purpose. Whether it's money, or sport, or just to chase the high - they have it. You just want the glory."

"Yeah? So what?" So what if he wants to be seen? So what if he's doing all of this hoping to impress? So what if he has to prove he's worth someone's time. "If I die I die. Big deal."

For some reason, he wants to both cry and retaliate at the look of pity that crosses her face. "Go home, kid. You're gonna break your momma's heart." Are his last words to him before she closes the door.

In a Viktor fashion, he does the exact opposite.

He likes the street fighting, - the vibrations under his fists, the crack of his bones, the violent taste of crimson metal blossoming in his mouth, it's liberating. He doesn't think about anything. It's just him and his adversary, not an enemy, just someone seeing him as Viktor sees them. That rush could ruin a man.

It doesn't hurt he's making pocket money on the side, either. Certainly better than watching some snotty kids or mowing laws, in his book.

No, what kind of hurts is seeing the sharp scrutiny in Aleksei's sharp eye and the soft disappointment uncovering Ryurik's Dad Stare when they come pick him up from the station.

He and his mother are alike a lot in that aspect, - really he's pretty sure the five, Sasha and him have had an agreement to collectively throw themselves off a cliff if they disappointed Ryurik in some way. A broken arm, bruised ribs, and black eye? Pale in comparison to what Ryurik's power really holds.

I refuse to believe Aleksei doesn't freely parent other people's kids sksk Aleksei only stops scolding him when a police officer says ''He's going to spend the first part of his life in the streets, and the other in the grave. I put my life on it." Well a certain fashion teacher is gonna design the outfit for your funeral BITCH-

"You're so damn lucky Talusha was busy digging her medicure through someone's intestines right now. Do you even know how bad you look right now? Of the mountain of trouble you're into? Are you? Viktor Iosef Novak, you look at me when I'm talking to you, -"

"Relax, relax, take it down to a two, " Viktor pushes back a laugh watching Ryurik placate his husband bc it's just cute, and ignores the shush river of Russian pet names bc they're not for him to hear. It makes him feel vulnerable tho, that Ryurik feels the need to somehow hold Aleksei back. He can take the heat just fine.

He can take it and give it just as good, because every battle he's been into before has been on his own name. But this is harder because it was never a fight, to begin with.

Fighting is easy. Stopping is harder.

It doesn't stop feeling bad when Sasha bandages his wounds and his back doesn't cool town from the target five pair of eyes fixate on. Yasha's burn the hardest thought. "The fuck you looking at?" He playfully glares, the good part of his shoulder bumping against the other boy's, who tries to small but it lifts with a strain.

"An idiot."

"Are you looking for a mirror?"

"Fuck you, Vitya."

"Hard pass."

"Okay, Viktor you're not getting away that easy, " Ronin says, arms still bound tightly around Antoska's slender shoulders and Sasha's frail middle. Despite his easy going tone, Viktor uncovers the touch of concern underneath. "Why can't you just ask your mom to teach you? Or Papa? I mean, you want to be on a knuckle sandwich diet be my guest, but it's not really good for digestion from what I hear."

"It's not the same. Your father knows another kind of style."

'He doesn't want to learn from mom and uncle Ryurik because she's a girl,' Sasha signes irritably, eyes making an impressive tumble. 'My brother, the 14 year old, making sexist comment. What a never heard of fact.'

"I didn't say that!" He exclaims, flushed. Hissing when Natalia kicks him in the tender bruise he sports on his hip. "I just said, that I want to learn boxing! And that's not the same thing as what Ma does, or you guys do. Boxing is special. But if I can't learn from Barnes specifically, then there's no point!"

The red head huffs in indignation. "Okay, so, boo hoo, some washed-up Rocky Balboa doesn't want to train you. You have options, V. People give up over worse."

He doesn't feel like being home anymore, so he flees, the call outs to his name going ignored. in the street or just outside, he doesn't know. He just knows red follows him, that concrete shakes under the stomp of his heel and that the wetness on his cheeks freezes on his face. No one gets it, no one gets HIM. It hurts, that a part of him, the part that tells him he's worthless and insignificant and forgetful , really does think Barnes has better things to do than train him.

A sleek car, long, vintage, a touch too expensive for the streets he's haunting right now, stops beside him. He continues. It follows him, engines unusually quiet.

"Mr. Novak?" A deep voice, subdued, but persuasive nonethelesss coerces him into stopping. The windows roll down, revealing a man with a smile too friendly to be true and eyes too kind to be nondeceiving. "My name is Alexander Pierce. And I happen to have an irresistible offer."

"It's in the process of extension, " Pierce expresses later, as he leads Viktor through the underground fighting bar. Its practically a huge stadium in a molehill and his mind struggles to compute how Pierce pulled it off. "I'm looking for capable young talents to craft into tomorrow's brightest stars. I'm assuming you've heard of Rumlow before?"

"Crossbones? 23-2? Yeah, I heard. He's currently heavyweight champ, right?" Barnes should have been, he wants to say, but reading the room better he thinks against it. "I don't... Actually think I've seen him around much. Maybe since '98, but that's his most recent match. What's ... Up with that?"

"He's kept that belt around him for closer than two decades. Id say its time for some adjuments in the records, don't you agree?" He doesn't like it when Pierce smiles. Bad things happen when he smiles, of that Viktor is certain. "That being said. I think you could be our following breakthrough. What do you say? I'd love to see a performance. "

"I'd be surprised if you guys had a Juniors league." He snorts, expecting a smart retort, but all he gets is a sinister grin. All of a sudden he's in the ring, without even noticing he was moved, and before him stands a beast of a man, two heads taller and promise of pain in his eyes. "... What juice do you give this kid?"

"You're charismatic. You'll need that in this world. He's your adversary for tonight. I'd suggest an old fashioned glove bump for the sake of sport, but, seeing as you're barehanded id advise against it. "

"You can't do that, " nervousness bubbles in his throat. "That's against the rules. I can't fight like that."

"Oh! Don't worry. You don't have to fight. You just have to die."

--

The last time Rumlow sees Barnes is on a stretcher, arm bathed in blood and with the press around an ambulance.

He doesn't know what they were. Fuck buddies to almost friends to friends with benefits? He doesn't know what he had, but he knows he lost it. All he has is a sheet of paper with scratched blue ink, digits that no longer call, and some gold on leather.

"You should treat that belt with more respect. " Rollins scolds him. Rumlow uses it as feet rest next, and doesn't flinch at the sharp slap he receives. Instead, he smiles mockingly, lower lip sticking out in a tempting pout.

"Hit a bit harder next time and maybe it'll be half close to how Barnes used to do it. Just because it felt good with him doesn't mean you'll receive the same response." The pout slips into a smile that drinks into the frustration sizzling around the air. "Besides, I don't listen to cowards, Jackie. Thought we established that."

"Oh, please. Are you ever going to let that go? I ain't gonna repeat it a thousand times till you get It through that hard head of yours, but I didn't shoot your boy toy."

'' I didn't say you shot him. Pussy like yourself, I'm thinking you hired someone. Why did you do it? Hm? Were you that scared to fight him that you wanted to kill him? Hell, I don't blame you. Man sprints like Ali and serves like Creed. "

It's Jack's turn to return that grin, that fucking blood-curling grin. " Used to, for sure. Remember when he fucked up your pretty face in '84. Now? He's a street rat barely getting by, sniffing after junk and scraps just to stay alive. Must be hard to think about, I guess, that he used to give it so good and now he can't even hold you, can't he? Not with his cripple self. "

The beer can in Rumlow's hand spills over. Neither comment. "I ain't afraid of no half-man, Brocky, " Honey-sweet words make him sick. He wants to kick Jack out, but they both know he won't stay away, and that Rumlow won't keep him away. He's too dependent on him at this point. "And not stupid enough to think he's coming back."

"... You're right. You're not afraid to fight him. You've got a lot of words worth to point the finger at, but chicken shit? Ain't one of them. You know what I think?" Rumlow sits back, smirk wide and nasty, contradicting the sadness on his tongue, the venom, the tired. " I think you were afraid to be him. That he just? Didn't give a shit. Just like I did. That he could fuck me whenever and wherever he damn well pleased without giving a shit about who had something to say about it.

You were afraid I'd say something about you, even if we both damn well know that never happened, that he found out. I think you were terrified he was gonna tell the world Jack Rollins was a faggot just like his daddy."

He can't snapshot the moment his body makes contact to the floor. He doesn't count the punches either, letting them numb over his face, no longer present for the beating. At around one point, his neck snaps to the TV screen, in sync with Jack ceasing his onslaught, and his eyeballs follow his stunned gaze.

Rumlow can recall the time Barnes lost his right hand.

And he'll brain engrave the image of him kncoking some goon out with his left.

[skizmin]

Ravenclaw Woojin

genre: fluff of course, sorta?? enemies to lovers but?? not really???, an adamant y/n and a soft woojin,,,, none of the other members appear which i didnt even realise until i finished

okay so woojin is ravenclaws most trusted prefect as hes the eldest one and literally does The Most to make himself available for others

seriously once he asked the defence against the dark arts professor for a 2 week extension on his assignment so he could tutor 5 people for the upcoming charms exam 

like,,,,,,,, damn

anyway so you actually do this extended course of charms, youre in the same class as woojin and for some reason??? the fact that hes so naturally good at it pisses you off

especially when youre falling slightly behind in that class

okay a LOt behind

your like,, only friend in that class is dropping it next term to focus on her divination classes and she doesn’t get it either but it doesnt affect her grades not nearly as much as it affects yours. 

shes all “dude just ask for woojin to tutor you” and youre like 

No NO no

no way are you being tutored by kim woojin. the idea just embarrasses you

you’re usually fine with getting help from peers but woojin?? everyone goes to him for tutoring and you sorta just dont??? wanna put yourself into that group???

you feel like it makes you inferior to him for some reason which is the worst feeling ever

(even tho you totally arent bc youre beating him in potions anyway)

anyway so its a wednesday morning and the class is about to end to allow the students to go have breakfast (you know how extended courses are out of normal school times ye??)

you’re tired as fuck

confused as fuck

hungry as fuck

everything as fuck

but then “y/n!” called you to your senses and you stopped packing your things

your professor had just called you up, an ancient tiny little man who was apart of the great battle of hogwarts some time ago

“yes sir?”

“come here would you?” 

you shoved your ink jar into your bag and nodded, walking out from behind your desk and saying bye to your friend who was leaving already

god she really did hate this class you thought lmao

the majority of the students were still packing their things away in a slow drawl probably instigated by the dim, sleepy light of the chilly morning

“anything i can help you with?” you awkwardly asked your professor who smiled at you, stepping down from his place standing on books to look up at you

“yes actually, ive noticed you’re falling behind.”

you cringed, hard, not even wanting to turn around and see who was watching

“i suggest you get a tutor if you wanna get an A for this semester, y/n.”

“sir, i don’t have time to be tutored!”

“well then i guess you’re going to fail this course y/n. just be tutored enough to catch you up on the syllabus and then i can help you with the rest, okay?”

you internally groaned. this was bad

“you’re smart, it’ll only be about 2 weeks before youre caught up. im sure theres plenty of people that would tutor you.”

you nodded and politely fare-welled the teacher before turning to walk out of the classroom

the classroom was surprisingly empty, and you were happy to see that, not really excited about your professor sharing the fact that you were failing the course

sighing to yourself, you walked out of the door, planning to go meet your friends in the great hall

“hey! wait! y/n!” 

you whipped around, half scared to death

the halls were practically empty yet

there was kim woojin

standing right next to the doorway you had just exited

your head tipped back. had he really been standing there the whole time?

“do you wanna meet tonight or something? we can go to the library?”

you gave him a pointed stare

“what? why?”

woojin was a little taken aback, he grew smaller under your gaze.

“oh, so i can- you know, tutor you? i heard you were behind by a bit.”

he looked almost embarrassed at how you were responding to his offer as you sharpened your gaze on him

“i dont need you to tutor me. i can find someone else.”

and with that you left a frowning, dumbfounded woojin standing in the hallway as you stalked off to the great hall

stupid woojin

who did he think he was asking you to meet him in the library

surely you can catch up on your own, you really dont need his help. you’re like, shaking your head lmao

smh

but anyway, the end of the day comes and you grab all these phat stacks of parchment and take you study charm books to the library and sit at the farthest ever table away from literally everyone

you start studying properties of all the spells youve learnt this second term

you get to the third spell, aparecium, one youve been having a lot of trouble remembering

you groaned, looking up in your book what exactly the spell meant and remembering it was in fact a revealing charm and you didnt have any pages with invisible ink on them. 

you began flipping further into the book, trying to find the incantation for concealing ink writing so you could practise 

“h-here.” 

you fuCKING LEAPED IN YOUR SEAT

BITCH TF

THAT SCARED YOu oh my god what was he doing here

“s-sorry for scaring you b-but, its got concealed writing on it so you can, like- practise?”

he sounded sorta hopeful as he slid the paper over to you, hands nervously twining with each other in front of him afterwards

your pride was getting to you tho so

“i’m good at that spell, i don’t need to practise it.”

woojin blinked and squinted at you a little, trying to figure out whether or not you were lying

“ooookayyyy. anyway, anything else you want help with? i can explain it a little bit for you?”

you resisted the MASSIVE urge to roll your eyes at him

we get it, youre good at this

“im okay, thanks.”

you expect woojin to leave then, and it seems he does too as he stutters in his movement before clenching his eyes shut

“do you not l-like me or something? or did i-, did i do something to you?” he peeked an eye open to gauge your reaction

he looked almost

scared?

oh no, oh no

what was this guilt? you could feel your glare softening in an instant

why are you liKE THIS

“n-no! i dont!” you stuttered out a reply, eyes widening slightly

and then, he smiled. and he smiled wide

you felt blinded almost, your heart started palpitating. so this is what it was like to have woojin smile at you, and you only.

you were fucked

“oh! okay then! sorry i just-, i just thought i’d annoyed you or something so..” he trailed off, tapping his shoe on the ground suddenly very interested in the lamp on the library desk

“anyway!” he spoke up again. “i’ll uh, i’ll leave you to it. and don’t forget to practise aparecium. it’ll be on the next test for sure.” he grinned at you again and you sorta maybe might have felt heat crawling to your cheeks.

“t-thanks woojin.”

he nodded at you, still smiling before leaving

you banged your head on the table, what in the world was that interaction

whilst burying your face in your hands you noticed he had left the enchanted paper with you, you shrugged

might as well use it, right?

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, shit

1 and a half hours later yu were groaning out of pure frustration with yourself. no matter how perfectly you practised the incantation or how directly you swished your wand at the page, nothing appeared

no writing or anything

you were beginning to wonder if woojin gave you the right piece of parchment, that this was the one with the invisible ink

you shook your head, looking at the clock closest to you and deciding it was too late to be studying and that your brain mustnt be working right,

you packed up your stuff and went back to your dorm, making sure to get as good a sleep as possible because you had another extension charms lesson tomorrow morning

,,,

anyway so you woke up late in the morning with a sore neck and red eyes. 

this was Not Good

quickly tugging on your robes and frantically shoving things into your bag whilst brushing your teeth you rushed out of you dormitory and ran all the way to the charms classroom

you ran in out of breath, your professor looking at you with an unimpressed look. “glad to see you could make it y/n.” he drawled before turning back to the blackboard

you whined as you saw him writing a test warning for 2 weeks time, sleepily stumping your way over to your friend who was laughing at you loudly

unpacking your things, you glanced around the room. eyes landing on woojin who had a hand resting under his chin staring right back at you

your cheeks went a bit red when he smiled at you, giving you a small wave before turning his head to the board again

your friend next to you shoved you a little bit, when your turned your head you face her she simply mouthed an i saw that

you rolled your eyes and paid attention to the rest of the lesson without any distractions

anddddd thennnnnn it was over

you blinked, your notes were cleaner today than usual

“hey, y/n!” you looked up to find woojin standing in front of your desk, toothy grin on his face as per usual

your heart sorta skipped a beat before you were able to tell it not to

“hey woojin :))” you smiled, trying your best to sound friendly whilst not looking like an absolute fool

he sorta squinted at you a bit before “so uh, how was studying?”

it was your turn to look at him sceptically this time

“it was,,,,,, good??” you questioned, unsure of how to respond

woojins smile sorta falters before coming back with a somewhat sad lilt to it

“ah, right. well i gotta go. my friends are waiting.” and with that he nodded at you and left

you were confused as fuck

well, that was certainly weird

anyway, for the next week and 3 days, woojin completely avoided you

you’d be fine with this of course if you hadnt gotten that little soft spot for him a while back

it sorta hurt when your smiled at him and he sorta just sadly smiled back and looked away, or if you were gonna say hi to him he’d scurry away before one word could leave your mouth

you were really down about it honestly

bUT you also didnt have time to worry about it

your test was in FOUR. DAYS. 

AND you had studied everything else to the best of your ability apaRT from the revealing charm, aparecium.

you wanted to cry, no one could explain it well enough to you and you could say the incantation right bc everyone spoke too fast and apparently you had to use it MULTIPLE times on the tes to maKE QUESTIONS APPEAR. 

QUESTIONS

INVISIBLE QUESTIONS THAT COUNT TOWARDS YOUR MARK

basically, you were having a mental breakdown and you knew there was only one person left to try and explain it to you

kim woojin

again, he was A V O I D I N G    Y O U

which made you angry bc you neED TO GET AN A

anyway, so your class on a tuesday was an afternoon class and you sorta just planned to corner him there after class

flitwick usually left 10 minutes early to arrive at his choir practises on time and put a charm on the door so no student could leave early

so the time comes, the bells ring and students rush out of the class you go and lie in their beds or whatever most teenagers do nowadays

and you make your way over to woojin’s desk as he packs up his things, he was always the last to leave

you coughed to get his attention, when he looked up his eyes widened

“i need your help.” you stated, eyes boring into his, you could swear you saw pink flush over his cheeks

“im uh, im busy. sorry y/n-”

“just one charm? please? i really need it, no one else can explain it.”

woojins eyes softened and he bit his lip. he was contemplating.

“okay.” you smiled at him widely “lets try now, okay?”

you nodded, placing you bag down and grabbing out some enchanted pieces of parchemnt, including the one he gave you

you sat down next to him and he look confused

“whats the paper for?”

“the aparecium charm.” you replied simply, turning to face him

a look of realisation dawned over his face

“i thought you said you were good at that charm?” he muttered

you looked at him weird, why was he acting so strange?

“i lied, i didnt want help back then but i do now. so,”

and then he grinned widely, taking a piece of paper that wasnt the one he gave you and telling you to watch closely

“aparecium.” he said, clearly. swishing his wand almost expertly

you looked at the paper in front of you and saw the writing of hello appear on it in your cursive handwriting

you looked up at him in aw.

“can you say it again? slowly? i dont think im pronouncing it right.”

woojin giggled

G I G G L E D

and repeated himself, clear and slow. you nodded at him, taking a random piece of paper and clearing your throat

“wait!” woojin yelped “use this one!” 

you furrowed your brows as he shoved the piece of paper he gave you in the library in front of you

“uh, okay?” you replied, glancing up at his smile

clearing your throat again, you swished you wand and spoke clearly. “aparecium.”

nothing happened to the paper and you groaned loudly

“oh, y/n, your pronunciation is perfect. its the swish thats wrong.”

you bored your eyes into him “what?”

“youre doing it this way. youre supposed to do it this way” he flourished his wand to demonstarte to you the wrong doing

you still furrowed your brow, not really seeing the difference between the two

“here, i’ll show you”

o hMY GOD HE 

HE JUST GRABBED YOUR HAND HOLY SHIT

SIRENS CALL THE AMBULANCE

YOU REALLY ALMOST CHOKED ON AIR

suddenly you felt fire all over. red surely covering your face as you tried to concentrate but holY SHIT

“okay so youre going like this.” he moved your hand in his own, making out the movement you made before

“but you should be doing this.” 

o h

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh

now you get it

you wanted to bang your head on the table for being so dumb about it

“oH RIGHT! woojin you’re literally a life saver!”

he laughed again, retracting his hand from yours as red splashed over his cheeks and onto his ears

“well, go on! try it!

you smiled, looking down at the paper and saying a strong and clear incantation whilst moving your wand exactly how woojin showed you to

you squeALED in excitement as ink dotted onto the page! 

you grabbed woojin by the forearm and raised it above both of your heads in celebration

he laughed and cheered along with you before you settled down, beginning your massive thank you speech.

“seriously i couldnt have done it without your help i could have faile-”

“y/n, read it.” woojin smiled at you

“what?” you replied, confused

“read the parchment.”

eyebrows furrowing once again you looked down at the parchment with now visible ink

do you wanna maybe go to hogsmeade with me this weekend?

your eyes widened

no way

no way no way no way

you snapped your eyes up to meet his

this is why he avoided you! he thought youd rejected him in such a selfish cold hearted way!

“i’ve uh, actually liked you for a while. we missed last weekend but im down to go next weekend if you want?”

“i- i, i mean, y-you! of course! i’ll go with you, yeah! oh my god i am so sorry you mustve thought i was such a bitch i shouldnt have lied im an awf-”

oh my fUCKING GOD

CODE FUCKING RED HIS HANDS WHERE ON YOUR CHEEKS

AND HIS LIPS ON YOURS

BREATHING? WHOS SHE

your eyes clenched shut as you reached to grab the front of his robes, kissing him back

you felt so goddamn dizzy, your mind cloudy at the absolute bliss of the feeling of his lips and how they moved against yours

he started smiling against you and had to pull away, his eyes glimmering and heart beating out of his chest

“i’ll pick you up at your dorms at 10, okay?”

god, youve never smiled harder.

[transdelgado]

I'm dying bc I'm behind in classes and they have to be done tommorow and I also have finals tomorrow and its 12 am and I have 30 assignments to do why did I do this

so sorry that i’m getting around to this like a week late. i’ve had a rough time recently. this can be used for future reference

this has happened to me sooo many times actually. this is what i usually do:

1) make a list of all the assignments i have to do, by subject. next to them i put a realistic time estimate of how long each will take (or how many questions and stuff)

2) from each subject, select the ones that will take the least time. this will be your first “circuit” if you will. i know it’s counterintuitive and you may wanna do the longest ones first but just hold on.

3) start with one assignment. when you’re done, take a 10-minute break and go onto the next one. during the 10 minutes stretch, get some cold water, and splash some cold water on your face. if you’re hungry, have something w protein like a granola bar (nothing too big or it’ll make you sleepier lmao). the break sadly can only be 10 minutes because you’re in a time crunch so :/

4) make your way through your assignments like this, leaving the longest for last.

(also i’d avoid drinking anything that could give you an energy boost like coffee or energy drinks. you don’t wanna have a caffeine crush half way through)

5) try to finish as many assignments as you can. don’t beat yourself up if you don’t finish all of them! the reason why you should do the short ones first is that at least you’ll have some assignments done to take the next day.

if you can, ask for an extension. this can work well if you have a situation where you have, let’s say, 3 assignments due in one subject. two of them are short, and one of them is long. if you bring the two short done and part of the long one done (it can be just the beginning) you can ask the teacher for an extension and they’re more likely to give in because they see you’re at least you’re trying.

if the teachers don’t know the reason you’re behind, i’d talk to them and explain the situation. if it’s because of your mental health, you don’t have to go into too much detail. if it’s because depression you can say “i’ve been having a hard time dealing with my depression recently so it’s hard to get work done”. if it’s anxiety, you can explain how being so behind flared up your anxiety and now you feel like it’s too much.

universities can be a little stricter on this, but if it’s a relatively small class you could try going to the professor’s office hours and explain

(TW for suicide for this next paragraph). this past semester, a family member committed suicide. i had a lot going on that same week and that was kind of my breaking point. i had a research proposal due, but there was no way i’d be able to focus for long enough to have it done. so i went to the professors office hours and said i’d be absent from class and that i would appreciate an extension, but that i understood if she couldn’t bend the syllabus rules. turns out her husband is also in the military so it hit close to home and she was able to give me a week extension.

the key is to show them that you’re trying. most teachers aren’t there to fuck you over (in fact, if they try to fuck over too many students then they can get in trouble) so as long as you get some work done, i’m almost positive they’ll try to help you out.

i hope this gave you some ideas! this is a method that works p well for me. i wouldn’t suggest doing this more than once a week though! you need to rest and allnighters are not good for you. i understand that sometimes they’re necessary, but always be safe and try to limit the amount of them you do!

[notthetoothfairy]

He’s Got You High

For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥

She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.

read on AO3

Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.

It reads, Kurt Hummel.

He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.

To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.

It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.

So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.

Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.

Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.

To: Blaine Anderson

From: Kurt Hummel

Subject: Paper Eggstension

---

Dear Mr. Blaine,

sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.

You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?

But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!

My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)

Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.

Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.

He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.

The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”

In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.

And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.

-

“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.

Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.

“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”

“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”

“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”

“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”

Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”

“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”

“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”

“What?”

“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”

He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.

“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”

“Again, the guy’s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.

“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”

Kurt whimpers.

“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.

Kurt lets out a miserable whine.

“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”

“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”

“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”

“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”

Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”

Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”

“In my grave, you mean?”

“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”

“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”

“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”

It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.

-

Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.

He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.

Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.

Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.

He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.

He looks up from his notebook with a smile.

“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”

Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.

And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”

Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.

Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?

-

“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.

He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.

Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”

“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”

“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.

“If…?” he asks quietly.

“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”

Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.

But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?

He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.

“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”

“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”

“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”

“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”

Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.

“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”

Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”

Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.

“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”

“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”

“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.

As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”

Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”

“I really didn’t mind.”

“Okay...”

“Like, really really.”

Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”

“Later, Blaine.”

-

Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.

Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.

“Talk to you later, Rachel.”

“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”

“Bye now!”

As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.

“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”

“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”

“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”

“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”

“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.

“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”

Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.

“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”

“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”

Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.

“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”

“What part of shut up-”

Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.

Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”

Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.

They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.

Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.

Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.

Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”

It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.