#yes i went on a first date on a weeknight during my first week of full time work YES i am so tired i want to die

[ephemeral-winter]

just had a surprisingly good first date even if i did pay sixteen american dollars for a mediocre glass of wine but unfortunately in the part of the date where i was discoursing about why jon hamm's face is a turnoff for me i accidentally veered into good omens s2 territory and let me tell you it was a close thing to bring it back on track

[mmmthornton]

Stolkien Roommates AU Thots

They're both ~30 years old

Tolkien works a pretty cushy tech bro startup company where he feels uncomfortably like he's there as a "diversity hire" even though the place doesn't really hire a lot of women and all of his managers are white dudes.

Still, he gets paid well and has the income to live pretty good.

He has a 2br apartment that he rents for himself and uses the spare room as an office, but decides to rent it out so he can save money for a down payment on a house (yay boring 30's people things).

Stan is working as a waiter and doing online classes to be a vet tech.

Him and Nichole are in the same D&D group and she's worried about him living with his obnoxious and loud roommates while trying to make positive moves in his life.

During the interview, Stan asks how Tolkien knows Nichole and he mentions that they dated back when they were kids.

Stan: "Aw cool, and you guys stayed friends since then?" Tolkien: "Well yeah, when you're the only two black kids in school you have a lot of shared experiences i guess." Stan: " : [] "

Stan: "...I didn't realize until seeing your name written out, are you named after JRR Tolkien? That's cool!" Tolkien: "Yes, and I hate that nerd crap. Its just what my dad was into." Stan: (slowly putting away the earmarked copy of The Silmarilion he keeps on him at all times) "Ah, i see..."

Despite the incredibly awkward first meeting they are a good fit and Stan moves in.

One day Tolkien comes in to the living room to see Stan on the couch staring at the TV and flipping through channels / videos without really looking at any of them.

Tolkien: "....you...okay man?" Stan: "Fine. What? No, I'm fine." Tolkien: "Its...okay if you're not, if there's something I can do please let me kn-" Stan: "Okay its nothing but my insurance fucked up and i had to reset something but my medication refill happened to be riiighhht at that cusp so for the next five days while I wait for my insurance to kick back in I'm out of my meds well technically i could get my meds but without insurance its like $200 for a weeks worth which is bullshit because our healthcare system is designed by out of touch billionaires but overall i'm fine, its fine." Tolkien: " :[] "

Tolkien would probably invite him to play basketball with Craig and the guys to get him out of the house and out of his own head then.

I like the idea that they're both people who benefit from and are willing to give the benefit of the doubt to others when they come up on personal and difficult topics.

They're also both the same level of "extraverted but appreciates chilling out with a video game and weed" which makes for very good roommate hangs.

Nichole and Stan end up hosting some of their D&D games from the place and even convince Tolkien to join them in some of their nerdy bullshit. IDK i just love Stan and Nichole being dorky besties who paint minis together.

I think Nichole would be the one to notice more when their habits and mannerisms are bleeding into each other like 👀👀👀

Nichole: "Wow Tolkien, since when do you like the Souls games?" Tolkien: "Stan's been playing through them on my PS4 in the living room; its pretty neat and the monster design is sick." Nichole: "Mhmm."

Nichole: "Hey Stan, that's a nice sweater! I don't think I've seen you wear something that wasn't a graphic t or a hoody!" Stan: "Thanks! Tolkien and I went shopping since I needed more professional stuff and he turned me on to this 'color block' look." Nichole: "Mhmmmm."

I also think Tolkien would have some Rich Kid habits like, he gets Hello Fresh deliveries but just kinda forgets about it/is too lazy to use them so it ends up in the trash before Stan moves in.

Stan is way more reluctant to throw out food so he asks if he can use the stuff in the box rather than just put the whole thing in the trash, and ends up making some of the weeknight meals that they have together.

This is good for both of them because 1) Tolkien probably shouldn't order out for food so much and 2) Stan probably would skip meals (either too busy or just not feeling up to it) if the food wasn't already basically right there.

Thats all i got for now, enjoy this self indulgent mess lol.

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Thought You Liked Me Too

Part 1 of Not the One series.

Summary: Blaine is just starting at NYADA, spies Kurt Hummel, and promptly falls in love. One issue, Kurt is dating the lead singer of the acapella group Blaine wants to join. 

Notes: Partly inspired by Maisie Peters’ song “John Hughes Movie”

Read Part 2 here

AO3

Blaine tells his friends that the first time he saw Kurt Hummel was at the club they frequent.

When they tease him about his little crush, it’s everything straight out of his daydreams. Dancing with Kurt in the middle of a dancefloor not caring who’s watching, foreheads pressed together breathing in each other’s air, and being able to lean in anytime he wants to kiss him.

Except none of those daydreams are true and none of those friends are really Blaine’s friends.

Sam made friends with a bunch of upperclassmen who had connections to get the pair of roommates fake IDs. Callbacks was a primarily NYADA scene so the NYU students wanted nothing to do with it. Blaine had spent the last weeks of summer hanging out with Sam’s NYU friends exploring the city by day and clubbing at The Lion’s Den at night.

He knew once he started school some of his weekend nights would be spent here and others at Callbacks. Hopefully, Blaine Anderson could make friends at NYADA as easily as Sam had at NYU.

It had only taken two days before Sam came back to their apartment talking Blaine’s ear off about a group of guys he spent orientation with, “seriously dude, Dante and I are like long-lost twins.”

Blaine thought the same thing about him and Sam.

“That’s great, Sam.”

“We’re going out tonight. They want me to meet the rest of the group.”

Blaine was still scrolling through his phone, checking his emails again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything from school. They sent out orientation day schedules when he and Sam went grocery shopping yesterday. Ever since Blaine’s been slightly on edge. Maybe he should update his email notification preferences?

“You have to come!” Sam exclaimed, jumping onto the couch. “Please, Blaine! You’re my best bud. I want you to meet them.”

“I don’t know Sam…they’re your classmates.”

“Come on! It’ll be fun.”

It never took much to cave to Sam. Not when he made his lips so pouty.

“Fine, when and where?”

“Yes!” Sam did an air fist bump. “9 at the Lion’s Den.”

Then, Sam disappeared into his bedroom.

“The Lion’s Den,” Blaine murmured. “Doesn’t sound threatening at all.”

Blaine came to learn that The Lion’s Den was always crowded. Even on weeknights. From trivia night to karaoke to wing specials, everyone had a reason to be here. Not to mention their cheap drinks. If you wanted a fun, inexpensive buzz this was the perfect place.

Their lenient ID policy helped too.

The story of his first Kurt Hummel sighting went something like this: Spinning around on his barstool, after ordering himself a vodka coke and getting a weird look from the bartender, to admire the decor. Dark blue walls with high ceilings. Metal lion heads at every corner. Plenty of multicolored lights dancing over the patrons.

That’s when he saw him.

Bright blue eyes in a sea of dancers. Pushing his way out of the center of the dance floor.

He tells their friends for weeks to come that it was Kurt’s silver shirt that caught his attention that night. Blaine hadn’t known anyone could pull off such a color. It appeared to be made of silk and doused in glitter with the way it shined under the colorful lights in the club.

But that’s all fiction. A story he created because he was laughably bad at hiding his feelings. It took four days after he spun this tale for Tina and Angie to ask questions over lunch. By this point, Blaine had already had his heart broken by Kurt but kept up pretenses for the girls.

What’s his name?

Who’s got you smiling like that?

Someone put a twinkle in your eyes.

Tell us. Tell us. Tell us.

Even when Blaine knew there was no hope, his heart held on. Kurt Hummel had left his mark on him from just one measly conversation. So, he lied and told them he had a crush on some guy he saw at the club. A guy he didn’t speak to and would never see again. A guy whose name would never leave his lips.

Tina called him a hopeless romantic. Angie insisted Blaine would see him again.

If only she had known how right she was. Kurt Hummel wasn’t just some guy he saw in passing. Kurt had actually been at the bar that night dressed in that exact shirt but it wasn’t the first time Blaine had seen him.

Actually, Kurt went to his school. Not that any of Sam’s friends knew that—they all attended NYU. Blaine’s pretty sure they’re just tolerating him tagging along to their hangouts because of Sam. With the exception of Tina and Angie. They were the only ones who sought Blaine out—asked him to lunch. But even their friendship wasn’t solid. They had just met a few weeks ago when Sam started orientation.

A bunch of freshmen all desperate for friends in the big city. Who knows if it would last ‘til Thanksgiving. Now that school had officially started for them, they would surely get busy and Blaine’s feelings would be lost in the hustle and bustle of student life. The girls would forget about him and if he was lucky, Blaine would forget about Kurt.

Except, the real first time Blaine saw him was at NYADA. It was actually on the first day of school, four days before he saw Kurt’s silver shirt amongst the dancers at The Lion’s Den. He was using his space between class times to tour the school, trying to figure out where the rest of his classes for the week would be. Kurt had found him in the hallway where he had been studying the bulletin board filled with organizations you could join.

From chess to anime to superheroes, Blaine couldn’t choose which interests of his to pick. The only thing he knew he wanted to be involved in was Glee Club. Of which, NYADA had a ton. Luckily, Blaine already had his interests in a glee club narrowed down.

All of the brightly colored flyers had tabs to pull so you had the information to contact them about joining. He pulled the tab for the Apple’s Adams; the only acapella glee club on campus. Blaine had just finished his three years as the lead singer for the Dalton Academy Warblers and was pretty sure he’d get invited to join the Apples.

That’s when Kurt approached him though Blaine didn’t know his name at the time.

“The Apples?” he asked.

Blaine looked down shyly at the green tab in his hand. He met the man’s eyes and nodded. “I love to sing.”

“Me too,” he said, “I’ll see you at auditions, break a leg.”

That was it. No hello, no introductions, just a ‘good luck’ and a promise of seeing the most handsome man Blaine had ever seen again. If Blaine was going to daydream about someone at least he knew Kurt and he already had something in common.

He couldn’t wait for auditions.

The second time he saw Kurt Hummel wasn’t at the club either. This time Blaine was getting coffee. Standing in line debating if he should get another cronut or should he just stick to a medium drip and be on his way. Then he heard this voice coming from a table behind him.

Since their encounter the day before, Blaine had been replaying that melody of “I’ll see you at auditions.” It was getting him through his first week of school.

Friday’s auditions couldn’t come soon enough. Though, in reality, Blaine needed all the time he could get rehearing his audition song. The Lion’s Den karaoke nights these last two weeks had kept his vocals strong but Blaine wanted everything to sound perfect. He had more than just the judges to impress.

He quickly looked over his shoulder and noticed a girl sitting across from that blue-eyed man.

“Come on,” she was saying, “that’s not the Kurt Hummel I know!”

That’s how he learned his name. It was fitting. Sounded like a name that could very well be up in lights someday. Blaine hoped he was there to see it when it happened.  

“Rach, it’s only the second day of classes please contain your crazy for another week at least.”

She huffed dramatically. “Kurt, you need to put yourself out there.”

The girl, Rach went on to talk about how she was auditioning for as many off-Broadway productions as she could this year. After all, “we’re almost graduates”. Kurt had scoffed at that remark, “we have another 2 years.”

It was obvious then Kurt was an upperclassman. A junior. Blaine had to stand out at auditions to even be a blip on his radar. He moved up in line, ordered his coffee, and mentally going through his closet for the perfect outfit. Surely tight pants and a bowtie were enough to get someone’s attention but what combination of patterns and colors would appeal to one Kurt Hummel?

When Blaine turned back around, coffee in hand, Kurt was already gone.

Okay, he thought, he already had some practice getting along with upperclassmen. Tina and Angie seemed to like him. Chad and Dante tolerated him—Blaine was cool because he liked college football. Bryant and Xavier were the toughest to crack. He wasn’t sure they’d ever really like him.

But Kurt went to NYADA. He liked to sing, obviously enjoyed glee club and theater. They had to have tons in common.

The third time Blaine saw Kurt was at auditions. He was sitting as one of the judges in the audience. This time dressed in a green army jacket and a tight black tank top underneath. Kurt had his feet up on the seat in front of him showing off his white Doc Martens.

In his wildest dreams, Blaine might’ve wished for Kurt to remember him, give him a teasing wink before he began to sing. Of course, nothing happened. Kurt barely looked his way at all when he walked onto the stage.

It was during the last few notes of Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are”, Blaine found out Kurt Hummel was taken. For a second, Blaine was glad the reason Kurt hadn’t given him a second look was that he was already in a relationship but in the next, he felt his heart sink to his stomach.

The man he had just seen Kurt kiss on the cheek was now talking to him. He was British. And taller than Blaine.

“I’m Adam,” he said, extending a hand, “we’ll let you know by Monday.”

Blaine can’t remember if he shook his hand before nodding and bolting out of the room.

Fuck fuck fuck.

There was no way he could stand to be in that group with Kurt and his lead singer, group founder, and British boyfriend.

That night Blaine had camped out on the living room couch, binge-watching the Star Wars movies knowing he had the day off tomorrow, and eating his heart out Sam found him covered in used tissues and Hershey kiss wrappers, with a half-eaten pint of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough in his lap.

“Bad audition?” Sam asked.

He didn’t answer. So naturally, he just sat next to Blaine on the couch.

“At least tell me you’re watching them in order.”

Blaine shook his head.

“Fuck dude, it’s worst than I thought if you don’t care about the order!”

Sam reached over his roommate to grab the remote control and paused the movie. Even though both boys had seen them over and over again, they insisted on pausing it for conversation.

“Talk to me,” Sam said.

When Blaine couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth, Sam pulled his roommate to his side in a half hug, half cuddle. That’s all it takes for Blaine to start crying, murmuring about his perfect guy being taken.

“I made it all up in my head, Sam,” Blaine whined.

All that’s heard from their apartment is sobbing and gentle condolences from Sam, who is still confused as to why he’s consoling Blaine at all.

He may have only known about Kurt’s existence for four days but Blaine had been dreaming about him for years. Blaine Anderson had their whole life planned after their first interaction. His middle name was “too much, too soon.” When the Andersons wanted something, they just knew. The depths of his soul knew Kurt was his perfect man.

The fourth time Blaine saw Kurt Hummel was at the club. That Saturday in September after auditions Sam pulled Blaine out of bed to meet up with their friends.

“You’re friends,” Blaine had said, head buried under a pillow.

“OUR friends,” Sam corrected. “Tina loves hanging out with you.”

Sam took the pillow off his face and forced Blaine to sit up by pulling on his arms.

“Because she’s got a crush,” he sighed.

“She knows you’re gay.”

“Gay and depressed,” Blaine told him before pulling the pillow back over his face.

Sam ripped the pillow off and tossed it onto the floor this time and sat Blaine up again.

“Let’s go, you gotta get out of this room. It’s been forever since you’ve seen the world!”

“I was at school yesterday.”

Sam ignored him. “I picked your outfit.”

He held up his choice. The mismatched patterns are enough to get Blaine up and out of bed.

Thank god Sam only wanted to model clothes and someone else would be choosing them.

The rest of the night had been going fine until Blaine caught sight of Kurt. At first, he was captivated by him. Did Kurt Hummel always look like he stepped out of a painting? For a second, Blaine could forget that he wasn’t allowed to want him.

Then, Blaine caught sight of who Kurt was pulling behind him. It all came back full force like someone slapping him across the face.

They were laughing together, probably drunk off each other. What he wouldn’t give to know what he was like to have a man like Kurt look at him like he was currently staring at Adam.

All his earlier feelings, everything Sam hoped he’d drink away, came flowing back. Blaine downed his vodka coke, paid his tab, and asked the bartender to call him a cab.

That was that.

Blaine walked home alone, texting Sam when he got back to their apartment so his roommate wouldn’t worry too much. Then, he locked himself in the bathroom and sunk to the floor.

If this was a movie, Blaine knows there would be heartbreak music playing as a camera zoomed in on his breakdown. It’s not Kurt’s fault that Blaine can’t help but picture a happy ending with every crush he has. They just had so much potential to be a great love story.

Now it was clear that was a story never to be written. If Kurt doesn’t want to be with Blaine then he’s just not the one.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Can you write a fic where Hermione has a row with Ron and she was wrong? She is doing everything she can so he can stop ignoring her and tries to apologise.

Why, yes I can, Anon! I really liked your prompt so I kind of went to town with it. Sorry if this is longer than you expected. 

My ask box is open!

***** Desperate Measures

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

At least that’s what Hermione kept telling herself to justify taking the day off of work. Not only that, she lied to her boss, and told him she was sick. It wasn’t a total lie, she did feel ill. But not for the reasons implied to her boss. As far as she knew, nausea due to shame and guilt wasn’t contagious.

Shame and guilt. That’s that real reason Hermione was at home, making an epic mess in her kitchen on a Friday afternoon. She wasn’t nearly as good at baking spells as Mrs. Weasley, and she was currently regretting turning down all of her past attempts to pass that wisdom onto her.

Hermione was stuck baking the muggle way, and it was probably going to be terrible, because Ron was used to the best treacle tarts in the world, and this was truly a sad attempt.

At least she had a second gift for Ron, if the treacle tarts turned out to be a disaster. A pair of tickets to the Chudley Cannons game this weekend was sure to get him talking to her again.

After setting the treacle tart into the oven, Hermione placed two plates on the table and lit a candle. She had picked up Ron’s favorite brand of wine, and put the envelope with the Chudley Cannons tickets onto the table between them.

It seemed like an extreme gesture, but this was not the first olive branch that Hermione had extended this week.

It had been four days since the fight. On Monday Hermione was startled by Ron’s abrupt entrance into their flat. She knew he had plans with his brothers that evening, but hadn’t expected him to arrive home so late. And even worse, so drunk.

*****

On Monday evening Ron arrived home muttering something about having too many gin and tonics at the bar. He collapsed onto the couch and was asleep before Hermione could argue with him. She was mildly annoyed that he didn’t communicate his timeline with her, but she was willing to let it go, even though that meant sleeping in their giant bed alone.

They didn’t interact the next morning, sinceHermione had an early day at work and Ron wasn’t supposed to be in until later, so she didn’t think much of him sleeping in. At least until later that afternoon when she came home and he was still there.

She woke him up immediately upon her return.

“Ron!”

“Hmmmph,” he grunted in his sleep.

“Why are you still sleeping?”

“What?” said Ron a little more clearly.

“Ron! It’s three in the afternoon! Why aren’t you at work?”

“Wait a minute,” said Ron groggily. “It’s three? In the afternoon?”

“Yes! And you’re supposed to be at work!”

Ron groaned as he carefully lifted himself to a seat. “Fuck, I slept in,” he muttered.

“You think?” Hermione said shrilly.

“I need to owl my boss,” said Ron, as he cautiously rose to his feet. “But first, I’m going to be sick,” he said as he ran off toward the loo.

Hermione was fuming when he reentered the living room looking somewhat presentable. “I can’t believe you got so drunk on a weekday and missed work--”

“Hermione--”

“Really, how could you be so irresponsible? You could get fired for this.”

“Hermione, please stop,” Ron said while he scribbled his note to his boss. “I feel guilty enough, I don’t need you to make me feel worse.”

“Well you should feel guilty!”

“HERMIONE.” She froze at the harshness of his tone. “Please stop. I don’t need you guilting me. Seriously, it feels like we’re in school and I missed an assignment.”

“This is far worse than that, Ron,” she said gravely.

“Do you even remember why I was out yesterday?”

“Does it matter??” said Hermoine. Truthfully, she didn’t remember why he had gone out with his brothers during the week, or why that minor detail would even be important right now.

“I can’t believe you.” After owling his boss, Ron turned toward the bedroom.

“Where are you going,” asked Hermione, following him.

“Well I’m going to work, Hermione. And I’m packing a bag, to spend the night at George’s.”

“And why would you do that?”

Ron halted, and turned back to face her. “Because he doesn’t micromanage me like you do.” Ron said as he shoved a change of clothes into an overnight bag.

“Ron--”

“Plus, he needs a brother right now.”

Hermione didn’t have time to respond before Ron disappeared. She was still angrier than ever and couldn’t believe he would be so dismissive and irresponsible.

It wasn’t until later that day when she checked her calendar that she realized the date, and felt her stomach tighten in guilt. It was April second. Ron must have spent the last night at the bar with George to celebrate his birthday, so he didn’t have to celebrate it alone.

Since he never mentioned the reason to her, he must have assumed she knew. He probably expected her to understand, and rightfully so.  But instead, she jumped to the conclusion that Ron was irresponsible and neglectful, when he was really just taking time to grieve with his brother.

He continued to sleep at George’s, which concerned her, and she wanted him back. The next day after their argument, she appeared in his office at lunch time to ask him to eat with her. She even brought a sandwich from his favorite deli, but he told her he had a work meeting and would eat it later.

She left him to it, but later saw him eating lunch with Harry and a few other employees at the ministry cafe. Her first instinct was to be angry at his, but instead she just felt hurt. Then she became more determined to make it right.

The next day Hermione left a note on his desk for him to see when he arrived at work. It was simple, and didn’t say much, other than the fact that she missed him and wanted him back home. Unfortunately for her, Ron had to spend the day in the field, and didn’t even come to the office. She wouldn’t have known that, of course, because he was still staying with George.

Yesterday, Hermione left even earlier than usual to make a stop at the bakery that Ron loved so much. She bought a chocolate croissant for both herself and Ron, and just like the note, delivered his to his desk that morning. She hoped he’d be in this morning to enjoy it.

On her lunch break, she received an owl from Ron, which simply told her that he was planning on coming home the next day, and they could discuss everything then. She was unable to work at all, caught up in her anxiety overthinking what Ron could possibly mean by “discuss.” What did they even need to discuss?

Her anxiety grew into guilt and shame for getting angry at him for missing work and not understanding that Fred’s birthday would come with a heavy dose of grief for him. That’s when she decided to play sick-- something she’d never done before, and stay home the next day to make sure Ron would return knowing how much he meant to her.

*****

Funny that she was now the one missing work. How irresponsible of her. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit like a hypocrite.

When the oven sounded, she turned back into the kitchen to remove them, and nervously awaited Ron’s return.

She heard the door open and whipped around to see him standing there. He looked miserable. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were messy, and his expression was worn out and exhausted. She wanted to hug him, but didn’t know if that would be welcome at the moment. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a lame sounding “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, as he dropped his bag to the floor side the door. She hated when he did that, but it wasn’t the time. “Rough day. Well, rough week, actually.”

She walked forward to hug him. He wrapped his arms around her, but noted a certain stiffness in his embrace. They still had things to talk about. “I’ve missed you,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Yeah, well. I missed you too.” He pulled away and looked at the table over her shoulder. “What’s all this?”

Hermione pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Because you’re mad at me. I wanted to do something nice for you so you’d forgive me.”

“Hermione--”

“You lied to me about not being able to go to lunch that day. And you didn’t see my note, and obviously the chocolate croissant wasn’t a big enough gesture--”

“Hermione please stop.”

She paused and looked up at him with hurt in her eyes. “What?”

“Just listen. Please.”

Hermione nodded.

“You didn’t need to do any of that. Yeah, I was angry at you, but mostly just hurt that you reprimanded me. I shouldn’t have gotten too drunk on a weeknight, and I shouldn’t have slept in and missed work, but It was Fred and George’s birthday, Hermione. Only the second one since Fred passed and George didn’t want to spend it alone.”

Hermione had tears in her eyes by the time he finished. “I realize that now! I do, I just didn’t realize it at the time. I just thought you were being--”

“Irresponsible. I know.”

Hermione nodded.

“I was Hermione. But guess what, I’m going to be irresponsible every now and then. You’ll just have to accept that. I will learn from those times and I don’t need you to make me feel worse. I hate it when you do that. It reminds me of being in school when you would reprimand me for breaking rules. As an adult it feels a bit condescending to be honest.”

“I just didn’t want you to lose your job.”

“I didn’t Hermione. Because unlike you, my boss was very understanding. Harry told him everything.”

She ignored Ron’s little jab and pressed on. It would be unproductive to add fuel to to another argument. “But why did you have to stay at George’s for a whole week?” Hermione pleaded.

“Because I knew it would happen again. I am still grieving him, and I will be for a while. This week was very hard on George too, and he needed a brother with him. ”

Hermione nodded. It made so much sense now. “Why could you tell me?”

“I needed to be with someone who wouldn’t judge me for drinking a little too much this week, because I knew it would happen. I know it’s not the best way to deal with everything, but having you guilt me about it would only make it worse.”

Hermione flung herself into Ron’s arms. “I’m so sorry Ron.” His grip on her was tighter now, more secure and loving, which sent a wave of relief down her spine.

“That’s all you needed to say,” said Ron, pulling her closer.

“What was?”

“Sorry. You just needed to say sorry.”

Hermione pulled out of the hug to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed her back lovingly. .

When they resurfaced Hermione asked, “So you didn’t like my note? Or the Croissant? Or this dinner, for that matter? I even picked up your favorite wine and--”

“It feels a bit like you’re bribing me to forgive you, to be honest,” he interrupted.

Hermione hadn’t thought of that. “So you didn’t like it?”

“Oh I did, don’t get me wrong. But hearing you admit you were wrong was even better.”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, well it’s harder for me to do that than it is to buy you chocolate and cook you dinner.”

“Exactly. That’s why it means so much,” he said with another kiss.

“Well in that case, I guess you don’t need the treacle tart I just pulled out of the oven,” said Hermione.

“Well I wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” he replied, flashing that lopsided grin that Hermione loved so much.

“Ok, we’ll have the treacle tart. But since you’ve already forgiven me, we don’t need the Chudley Cannons tickets…”

“Hold on… you got tickets?”

Hermione nodded smiling.

“For when?”

“Tomorrow’s game.”

Ron beamed. “You really did?”

“But I wouldn’t want you to feel bribed into forgiving me,” she said coyly.  

“I take it back,” he said, as he passed around her to reach for the envelope on the table. “You can bribe me.” Ron opened the envelope and gasped. “Hermione these are fantastic seats.”

“So you still want them?” she said hopefully.

“Of course I do!” Ron’s face fell. “There’s just one problem.”

“What is it?”

“I told George I’d spend the day with him tomorrow. I’m so sorry, I really want to go with you.”

“You know what?” said Hermione. “Take George to the game. He could use the distraction.”

“Are you sure?” asked Ron, his face lighting up in excitement.

‘Yes. Tell him I say happy birthday too.”

“Hermione, he’s going to love it. Thank you,” he told her, pulling her into another hug.

“It’s the least I can do,” said Hermione, secretly relieved that she didn’t have to go to the Cannons game, and could spend the day tomorrow reading instead. “Take him out for a drink after too, ok? On me.”

“Really?”

Hermione nodded. “I was wrong before.”

Ron smiled and kissed her deeply. “I love hearing you say that,” he laughed.

Hermione laughed too. “Well maybe I should say it more often then,” she said as she kissed him again.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, but sometimes the desperate measure could be as simple as an apology.

[noona-clock]

The Bartender - Part 6, Final Chapter

Genre: Bartender!AU

Pairing: Jinhwan x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,082

Six Months Later

“Tonight?” you asked with a soft chuckle. “But it’s a Tuesday.”

Why was Jinhwan asking you to come to the bar tonight? He certainly knew by now that you made it a habit to only go on Friday evenings or on the weekend -- mainly just Saturday, though. 

“I know, but -- please just come,” he replied.

A sigh slid through your lips, and you closed your eyes briefly as you said, “I have kind of a busy schedule tomor --”

“You don’t have to stay long,” Jinhwan interrupted.

Your brow furrowed gently. “...And it has to be tonight?”

“It has to be tonight. ...Please.”

Well. You certainly couldn’t refuse him when he said please twice. That would just be rude!

“Okay,” you relented. “I’ll stop by after work for a little bit. Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?”

You, at least, figured the two of you could share a quick meal together back in his private office. If you were going to be at a bar on a Tuesday evening, you certainly wanted to make it worth your while and spend some quality, alone time with your boyfriend.

“No, don’t worry about dinner,” he told you.

...What? Don’t worry about dinner? But he was asking you to go to Jay’s after work, and he knew you typically ate dinner right after you got home in the evening.

“Wha --”

“I’ll see you later, okay, baby?” he said hastily. “I gotta go. Drive safe -- see you -- miss you!” And then he made some kissing noises into the phone before the line went dead.

Oh.

Okay, then.

It wasn’t terribly unlike Jinhwan to plan things, but he usually didn’t make it so secretive. After your first date, he discovered that life with you tended to be much easier when he shared his plans with you beforehand.

So, something was definitely fishy about this whole thing.

You spun around in your office chair, eyeing your planner but not actually looking at it. You just needed something to focus on as you thought this through.

Why was he being so unforthcoming about his plans for the evening? If you were only going to be there for a short while, and you weren’t even going to eat dinner there, why wouldn’t he just --

A thought suddenly popped into your head, and it made your heart momentarily stop beating.

What if he was planning to propose?

You quickly shook your head, dismissing that thought because he absolutely would not be proposing. The two of you hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ to each other yet!

...But maybe the fact that you’d just been very swift to think that he might propose meant you should say it.

You felt it, of course, and you had a very solid notion that he did, too. In fact, there had been quite a few times over the past couple of months when you thought he might tell you.

But now that you really thought about it, you concluded that he was probably waiting for you to say it first. You couldn’t blame him in the least for that; it was very rarely easy to know how you were feeling just by looking at you. Over the years, you’d gotten used to telling the people in your life when you were upset, excited, nervous -- or any other emotion. But you hadn’t yet mastered telling someone you loved them.

When you spun back around in your chair to face your computer, you made a mental note to tell Jinhwan sometime soon -- very soon. You did, in fact, love him, and he deserved to know.

But anyway -- you still hadn’t figured out why he would be inviting you to the bar tonight, on a Tuesday!

One glance at the clock on your computer told you it was time to get back to work, though, so you would have to just wait and see.

In an interesting turn of events, Emma had messaged you that afternoon inquiring about your plans for the evening.

This was also somewhat suspicious because she rarely, if ever, asked what you were doing on a weeknight. She knew better than Jinhwan your proclivity towards restricting anything “fun” to the weekends.

But the fact that her contact made you wary didn’t stop you from telling her. And when she read that you would be stopping by Jay’s after work, she almost immediately replied back that she would meet you there -- which wasn’t surprising.

Jay had hired a bartender not too long ago, a very mysterious man named Yongguk, and Emma had quickly decided he was her ideal type. She would jump at any chance to go and see him.

So, here you were, pulling into Jay’s and parking next to Emma’s waiting car.

As soon as you stepped out, you stood and turned to face your friend who was getting out of her own car.

“What’s going on?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

“...What do you mean?”

“Why did you ask me what I was doing on a Tuesday night?”

Emma immediately pulled her lips into an angelic smile, and then your thoughts that something fishy was going on were cemented.

“I swear, I don’t know anything,” she assured you as the two of you met on the sidewalk. “Jinhwan just called me and told me to ask you what you were doing and that I should come along.”

Oh, he was good. He was very good. Asking Emma to take part in his plan but not actually telling her the plan? Smart move, Sir. Very smart.

“Well, something is definitely going on,” you murmured.

“I bet it’s something exciting,” Emma grinned as you approached the front door of the bar. “He knows you. He wouldn’t get you to come here on a weeknight if it weren’t for a very good reason.”

“This is true,” you nodded, walking through and stepping into the place you’d come to be so familiar with over the past six months.

Not even one second passed before you heard Jinhwan call out your name, and when your eyes found him standing behind the counter, you smiled warmly and lifted a hand to wave at him.

Emma suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the bar with a clear purpose: she’d just spotted Yongguk mixing a drink a few feet away from your boyfriend, and now she was making her way to the bar stool right in front of him.

As soon as you slid onto the stool right in front of your man, you heard Emma greet Yongguk with a very eager but breathless “Hi.” The quiet, handsome man murmured his response, and then you shifted your gaze away to let Emma do her thing.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jinhwan smirked just as you turned to face him.

“Oh, yes, fancy that,” you replied sarcastically. “What’s going on?”

Your boyfriend immediately looked affronted, his head rearing back as his forehead wrinkled deeply. “What do you mean ‘what’s going on’? I can’t ask my girlfriend to come see me? It’s not like I don’t miss you during the week.”

You pursed your lips and shot him a disbelieving look.

“Okay, fine,” he grinned. “I’m introducing something new to the menu.”

Your eyebrows rushed up your forehead, a grin to match your boyfriend’s appearing on your own lips. “Oh, you finally finished it?”

For basically the entirety of your relationship so far, Jinhwan had been in the process of concocting a new drink. He’d had you taste dozens and dozens of variations of the drink and, being the good girlfriend you are, you’d provided him with honest, constructive feedback every time.

In fact, the last time you’d tasted it, you hadn’t been able to tell him anything you disliked about it. It had been perfect, at least to your tastebuds.

And now it was time to make it official, apparently!

Jinhwan’s grin grew wider as he handed you a menu and pointed to the newest addition on the list. The font color was different, and there was a star right next to it so it was obvious to customers that it was a new drink.

As soon as your eyes landed on the words, they widened. Your heart flipped over and then leaped up into your chest. 

You snapped your head up to stare at Jinhwan, the expression on his face one of pure pride.

He had named the drink after you.

It was right there in green font: The Y/N.

“You -- the --” you stammered. “So -- so, that’s why you had me --”

Jinhwan simply nodded, though it was obvious that he was barely able to contain his excitement.

It seemed silly -- you didn’t love going to bars, and you didn’t love alcohol as much as your boyfriend did, so you weren’t sure why your throat was tightening with emotion at the fact he had named a drink after you.

But then you realized, he’d done it because he loved you.

He loved owning his bar, he loved making drinks, and this was his way of telling you that you were just as important to him as his business.

You opened your mouth to tell him that you loved him, even though you weren’t crazy about the fact your first time saying it would be in a bar -- but Jinhwan interrupted you.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

Without hesitating, you slid off your stool and made your way to the side of the bar, heading behind it to get to him.

You rushed up to Jinhwan, reaching your arms out and latching onto him in a tight, almost desperate embrace.

“I love you, too,” you murmured, your voice muffled as you spoke into his neck.

Jinhwan had hugged you back immediately, but upon hearing your words, he squeezed you, gently digging his fingers into your back and shoulders.

And then you heard Emma’s high-pitched ‘Awwwwwwww’ and you remembered you were in a public place.

But... this time, you didn’t care. You kept hugging your boyfriend -- the boyfriend you loved and had loved and would always love.

“I have something else to tell you,” he said softly.

You pulled away just the tiniest bit, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Hmm?”

“The new health inspector came in today,” he smirked.

“Oh?” Your eyebrows rose curiously, and you waited on tenterhooks to hear the outcome.

Instead of telling you, he nodded over toward the wall behind the bar, and when you turned your head to look, you saw the report card hanging up.

A 100.

“See? I got full marks all by myself, no flirting included.”

You pinched his arm, your forehead wrinkling as you whipped your head back to look at him. “There better not have been!”

“There wasn’t!” he defended. “Will you add 100 points to my score?”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you moved to rest your chin back on his shoulder. “Yes, of course.”

“So, what’s my total now?”

“Three thousand and seven hundred,” you replied immediately. Adding an even 100 to his previous score had been far too easy. “Although, I think I will make it four thousand after what you did tonight.”

“Four thousand,” Jinhwan grinned. “I’ve never gotten a score of four thousand on anything before.”

“Oh, come on,” you chuckled. “Four thousand will be nothing later on down the road. Just think about how many points you could earn in another six months. Or a year. Two years!”

Jinhwan squeezed you a little, one corner of his lips lifting into a smirk. “You know I don’t do anything for you just to get points.”

“I know,” you beamed. “That’s why I keep doing it.”

Well... that and because you just liked scoring things.

“Yeah, but you also just like scoring things. Giving points is kinda your thing.”

“That it is,” you giggled.

“And I love you for it.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled brightly before leaning back and moving to press your lips to his. 

Right now, you didn’t care that you weren’t alone and that you were still in a public place -- it was a Tuesday evening, the bar was hardly full, anyway.

No, right now, all you cared about was kissing your boyfriend. Showing and telling him how much you loved him. Making sure he knew he was worth more than a measly four thousand points.

Way, way more.

[boymeetsweevil]

Okay sorry but

Office life x Accidental marriage AU

BKGD:

OC who does bar trivia on some weeknights and weekends. It’s pretty hardcore and a good majority of the office does it. Lots of young knowledgable ppl using their niche/nerd interest facts to win some prizes. 

Enter: Jin who is the office’s wet blanket but also carries the trivia team when it comes to real life knowledge (AKA anything that can be taught as an AP class in a high school). it’s actually pretty serious and one day you win a competition at the end of the year with a trip to Las Vegas as the grand prize 

So Office!Jin is like weirdly stoic and shows like 0.001 emotions and when he does it’s him laughing at like...microsoft office memes or some shit. very dry eXTREMELY dry. Almost dwight schrute personality but for cooking and not farming, and less entertaining. Also scary beautiful, quiet, very much keeps to himself in a snooty way. Only comes to trivia, never goes on regular bar runs. Sits in the cubicle on the other side of the office so u don’t see him much.

 FUNFATX: you did do a project with him that was like kind of involved for two weeks once and he commended you on your work ethic once it was done. After those two weeks you learned to speak Jin so that was basically him telling you that he thought u were cool

MAIN STORY:

No one expected him to say yes to going on the trip. But he does, which is weird. and it’s so surreal seeing him outside of his beige three piece suit and instead in the most generic grey sweat shirt and pants set ever. Everyone is trying to sneak glances at him on the plane to LV and he’s just wrapped up in a blanket alone in the back sleeping like a mummy[ u know like body completely straight and hands crossed at his front like a corpse]. he sat away from everyone because he knew they’d interrupt his sleep schedule which he carefully crafted to avoid any form of jet lag

Somehow, one of the more boisterous guys from the office gets a first drink in Jin (he never drank at the bar trivia because he wanted to be focused™️) Lol. it turns out that he’s actually kind of funny but like definitely still not on purpose he just turns into this whiny pink giant. everyone teases him and he’s only like 12.5% more talkative but it’s still incredible to hear him talk/complain this much at all

More drinks, some gambling, more drinks. You end up thinking Jin is actually kind of fun even tho he just went from prissy stoic to whiny awkward drunk and you drag him places to watch him squirm.

Cut to wake up scene. 

Classiccliche omg-who-is-this-person-in-my-bed-that-I-didn’t-expect-to-be-there. It’s JIn-- who is knocked tf out and snoring but luckily ur clothes are all on and nothing hurts but....THERES A RING ON UR FINGER. And u scream and it wakes him up and lo and behold, there’s a ring on his finger too. The issue is that the chapel is closed and ur supposed to be flying back to school the next day so u can’t get it annulled but you figure u can always contact and do it remotely??? but lol u can’t and you wont have time/money to go back for at least two months.

u should have noted something was off when he sat next to you on the plane ride back. he sleeps like a mummy again and snaps at everyone so no one else sits next to you. ppl are trying to mime at your matching rings but ur too weirded out by the situation to say anything.

The odd thing is, u go back, Married to Jin and he’s like...unfazed. Completely fine with it. Like he’s chilling. You catch him eating chowder (in summer no less) in the break room and try to bring up an annulment but he just brushes u off and asks if you like soup and ur like uhhh yeah i like tomato soups i guess????

And then it starts. The husbanding

Jin starts bringing in soups that he made for you. Tomato soups. And he starts offering to drive you home after work in his boring little mid 2000′s sedan and at first ur clueless and ur like carpool is good ill go get some of the others and he’s flat out like “im only doing this because ur my wife and i dont want u taking the bus” and u think he’s joking so you laugh but you also get in anyway. And then u do the same thing the next day. And when your favorite blouse gets a hole in it, he loans you his suit jacket for the day and takes your blouse and sews up the hole and strengthens the button loops all during his lunch break.

suddenly he’s asking what other things you like to eat besides tomato soup and then he’s asking you to come with him to the grocery store this weekend so he knows what brands of stuff you like and ur like??? okay???? but why? because ur DUmb. 

And someone else in the office literally has to sit down and explain it to you because one day you’re not going dancing with the girls because: last week u rec’d a movie for Jin to watch and immediately he went “okay lets watch it at my house next friday” and when one of the other married ppl in the office ‘defends you’ by mentioning how date nights being important at the beginning of the marriage youre like Haha funny joke and she’s like girl...

you go to Jin’s place but ur confused the whole time like is this thing real???? u figured that jin and u were on the same page and that u were just gonna live ur lives like nothing changed until you could go back to LasVegas to cancel the marriage but then ur at his house and he’s cooked you some of your favorites again and he’s got some extra socks because u said ur feet get cold he actually puts them ON YOUR FEET FOR YOU and he’s telling you that his dad is coming to town and wants to meet u and ur like....oh shit im married

[gldngrl7]

Karamel Fic: Permission to Flourish (1/11)

Title: Permission to Flourish

Author: gldngrl7

Date Started: February 12, 2017

Rating: T for Teen (I know!  I can’t believe it either!)

  Author’s Notes:  

This story is the sequel to Bulletproof. Please read that one-shot before diving into this one.

I swear – sometimes I have no idea where some stories come from – and this is one of those stories that’s a complete mystery to me. It just came to me not long after writing Bulletproof of the vocation where Mon-El would find his calling after leaving National City and I just couldn’t NOT write it.

There is angst in this story but I promise a happy ending.

There’s a few original characters in this story. I hope you like them.  I hope you love them.

Comments are welcomed, flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.

  Chapter 1/11

         I've been around for you

                       I've been up and down for you

                                         But I just can't get any relief

        I've swallowed my pride for you

                        I've lived and I’ve lied for you

                                         But you still make me feel like a thief

         You got me stealing your love away

                           'Cause you never give it

                                           Peeling the years away and we can't relive it

           I make you laugh

                    And you make me cry

                                            I believe it's time for me to fly

       --REO Speedwagon - “Time for Me to Fly”

  Six years after leaving National City:

Mike Matthews’ day job was stressful and noisy and, not infrequently, leaked into his nighttime, despite his ability to work efficiently and occasionally at super speed when not observed by others. So when he had time alone in the peace and quiet of his secluded garage apartment, he liked to veg in front of the television – at least during weeknights.  He flipped on the television to watch a favorite sci-fi program – the one indulgence he seemed to be allowed during his busy week.  But just as he got comfortable, his hand tucked behind his head on the couch, his show cut away and a news crawl immediately appeared on the screen.

A nationally recognized news anchor appeared on the screen, her face stricken and pale.  Mike knew immediately something was horribly awry somewhere and straightened up, sitting at the edge of his seat.

“Breaking news from National City this evening.  Reports are pouring in, confirming that…what appears to be alien spaceships have arrived on the outskirts of the city near the Port.  We are hearing reports that these aliens are hostile – I repeat…they are hostile.  Forces are gathering in the city to repel the aliens at this time, with Supergirl being at the forefront of this fight…..”

The news report droned on but Mike heard none of it, his attention diverted by the buzzing of his cell phone on the coffee table. Sensing who was on the other end of the call, he answered it in a flash.  “I’m watching,” he announced, before the caller could even ask.  “Am I ready for this?  I don’t see how I have a choice.”  Mike whisked out of the room and returned with a duffel bag, dropping it on the floor at his feet.    “I’m already getting my things.  Just going to lock up before I leave.  See you there?”  Mike hung up the phone and dropped it into his bag.

It took less than a handful of seconds to lock the deadbolts on his door, hoist the duffel over his shoulder and take to the sky like he’d never known anything else.

*****

 Dominators!  He should have known.  After Kara fought the Dominators years ago on Earth Prime, it seemed only a matter of time before they’d show up here on Earth-38.  Arriving just in the nick of time to join the fight, as Supergirl, Superman and Martian Manhunter, along with a throng of heroes he’d never seen before, struggled to bring down a horde of berserkers, Valor wasted no time jumping into the fray.  And ‘fray’ it was, to be sure.  It appeared Supergirl and her team had invited others to their fight, including heroes he could only assume were her allies from another Earth.  Mike caught sight of Guardian fending off a Dominator with his shield, as well as Alex using her powered exoskeleton to toss one of the aliens into the waiting blast of fire from a man he can only assume was Heatwave.

He hovered over the Dominator shuttle plying it with his heat vision until is sputtered and then exploded.  Gathered Dominators stopped for a moment, realizing that their ride back to the mothership just bit the dust, which allowed Valor to invite himself to the party.  Landing on the ground, he puts his weight behind a single punch that sent one careening back into the ship’s fire.

“One down,” he told himself.

“Behind you,” someone shouted.  An orange streak flashed before his eyes and the apparent Dominator behind him disappeared to…he didn’t know where.

A second later, the orange flash materialized into a person beside him.  “I’m Barry,” the man in the blood red suit announced, an open grin on his masked face.

“Ah!”  Mike immediately recognized the name as the speedster from Earth Prime who befriended Kara long before Mike’s arrival on this planet.  “Barry Allen…nice to meet you finally.  I’m Mike…uh…Valor,” he indicated his suit.  “Is there a plan here?”

Barry tossed him a small bag.  “Put one of these behind the ear of each Dominator you come across.  Other than that, knock them around until the tech geniuses get their stuff set up. Then get clear when we get the signal.”

“And the signal is…?”

“You have super hearing?” the speedster asked.

“Yes.”

“Then keep your ears tuned to the comms. You’ll hear the signal when it comes,” he answered cryptically.

So they went to hand-to-hand, taking out the horde and trying to stay alive.  Dominators were extremely strong, their strength rivaling that of Superman, Supergirl and Valor, so as they fought, it was best to avoid physical contact whatsoever. He concentrated on using his speed to place the tiny transmitters.  At one point he looked around, but Supergirl was nowhere to be found.

An ally went down and Mike went after her, pulling her from the melee of attacking aliens.  He dragged her from beneath the body of a Dominator and removed her from the fight. She looked up at him and smiled behind her red mask.  “I’m Speedy and you can fly.”

“Valor,” he provided his codename for her. “And…yes I can.”

“Cool.”

“Are you okay?” he shouted over the noise.

“I’ve had worse,” she pluckily replied, rubbing at an injured shoulder.  She came off as much more petite than she actually was, and she wore an outfit made of thick red leather.  Whipping an arrow out of her quiver attached to her back, Speedy notched it into her bow. “Thanks for the assist, but there’s no rest for the wicked,” she said with a roguish smile, before diving back into the fight.

Valor flew up for an overhead view, taking out a few Dominators with his heat vision and by diving down upon them with his super speed and a punch combination.  It went on and on, a seemingly endless supply of attacking Dominators, until finally the signal was given and Mike soared above the crowd to watch as high pitched whine pass over the city in a giant wave, taking out all of the remaining Dominators.  The creatures grabbed for their “ears” and screeched in pain before crumpling to the ground, dead.

When it was over, he dropped like a stone, slamming feet first into the pavement, his knees bending to absorb the impact, his royal blue cape fluttering dramatically around him.  Clark was the first to approach him, their matching grins telling the tale of a long-held friendship.

“Clark,” he greeted, joyfully.  Clark’s impossibly strong arms wrapped him in a welcome embrace, his hands slapping Mike powerfully on the back.  Mike returned the embrace with equal back-slapping fervor, as men do.

“What kept you?” Clark joked.

“Can’t believe you started the party without me?” Mike shook his head.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided you needed to make a dramatic and well-timed entrance….”

“I’m on the other side of the country,” Mike reminded his friend and mentor.  “Philadelphia isn’t exactly a stone’s throw.  Besides, it looks like you had everything handled.”

“Come and meet the rest,” Clark grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the milling crowd.  He took them through each of their names, assuming that the others had already experienced their introductions.  He had already met Barry and Speedy, but there was also Vibe, Black Canary, Mr. Terrific, Wild Dog, Jesse Quick, as well as the team of time travelers that included Heatwave, Vixen, White Canary and Firestorm.

He looked for her.  Surreptitiously, unwillingly, his eyes darting away from each face, hoping to find hers somewhere in the crowd, but to no avail.  He felt his heart sink, though he hadn’t been wholly unaware of the hope he’d been carrying within.  Even through the supersonic flight to National City, he hadn’t really taken the time to truly consider seeing her again.  He’d been more concerned about an alien attack and what it might mean.  Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to examine the possibility too closely.  

“She’s with J’onn and Bruce,” Clark told him.

“I wasn’t—“

“You were,” Clark insisted firmly.  Mike’s shoulders slumped with defeat, finally admitting to himself that his heart had been searching for her in the crowd. “It’s okay,” Clark said, his hand grasping Mike’s shoulders in comfort.  “She’s returned to the DEO.  They managed to capture a Dominator and they wanted to secure it before interrogating it. Kara’s there to keep Bruce from killing it.”

“I see.”

“Do you want to join them?” Clark asked, expecting his friend to jump at the chance to see Kara again.

“No,” Mike replied, shaking his head and taking a step back.  “Probably not a good idea.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Clark exclaimed. “You’re going to come all this way and not even see her?  After six years?”

“Just a coward, I guess,” he shrugged, a kernel of truth hiding beneath the sarcasm.

“She doesn’t think that about you, Mike.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Mike said, placing his hands on his hips.  “It’s been six years.  Maybe it’s best if we just…forget.”

‘Then why haven’t you done that already?” Clark needled him.  “You think I haven’t noticed that there hasn’t been anyone in your life?”

‘There has—“

“Anyone real, I meant.  Sure, there have been dates here and there, but no one you’ve considered committing to long-term.”

“You know as well as I do, it’s not that easy.  Not every woman is like Lois,” Mike pointed out. He hadn’t seen Lois in over nine months, not since Samuel was born, and though they emailed on a weekly basis he still missed her.  She was the big sister he’d never had.

“You’ll never find your Lois if you don’t try,” Clark argued.

“How do you--?”

“I know you,” Clark cut him off.  “I know you – maybe even better than you know yourself. Maybe you’re not looking because you know you’ve already found her.”

“C’mon, Clark,” Mike begged, studying the tips of his blue boots.

“I know it’s hard,” Clark placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder.  “The first step is the hardest.”

Mike considered Clark’s position a moment before shaking his head.  “I can’t,” he decided.  “I just…can’t.  I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Clark promised, a sad smile on his face.  “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.  I’ll tell her.”

“Damn it, Clark!”

“She asks about you,” Clark confessed.  “When you were training, I made a promise to you that I wouldn’t talk about what we were doing or how you were progressing.  And I’ve kept that promise, even though it made her angry.  But those days are gone and all she wants is to know how you are.”

“Really?” Mike asked.  Why would she possibly want to know about his life?  He left after coming to the realization that she would never feel about him the way he felt about her.  He wanted to respect and honor that, so he removed himself from her sphere in hopes of easing her awkward discomfort.  “Why?”

“She cares about you, Mike,” Clark replied. “Maybe your leaving made her realize just how much….”

“No,” Mike shook his head.  “She was very clear.  She did not have those kinds of feelings for me.”

“We have a saying here on Earth about absence making the heart grow fonder.”

“I don’t want ‘fond’,” Mike answered, sadly.  “I never did.”

Clark tilted his head to one side for a second and listened to something outside of the human range of hearing.  Mike attempted to tune in, but without knowing where to focus, Clark could be listening to a football game on a television set three miles away for all he knew.

“Apparently defending the Earth against alien invaders makes the humans hungry.  Big Belly Burger?”

“Nah,” he answered, nonchalantly.  “I’m not—“

 “You don’t need to rush back,” Clark said, ramping up a pitch to convince him to stay, that Mike already knew was going to succeed.  Mike rarely denied Clark anything.  Logically, he knew that Clark was simply playing for time, in an effort to get Mike to stick around for a while longer.  Time he would use to try to convince him to see Kara, or worse, orchestrate an ‘accidental’ meeting.  But he’d rarely been able to withstand a full on Clark Kent Mid-western charm offensive. “Stay for one meal.  Meet the rest of the gang.  Get to know them for five minutes.  I know they have a lot of questions about you.”  Clark chuckled, indicating that Mike was going to be in for an intense but friendly interrogation, before adding, “You just flew three thousand miles across country at hypersonic speeds and then fought a cadre of Dominators.  You need to eat.  I insist. I’ll even pay.”  Clark used his mentor voice, which made staying for dinner non-negotiable, but then lightened the conversational tone by grinning, “And I’m sure Bruce would love to see you.”

“Great,” Mike sighed, his voice notably lacking in enthusiasm.  He had a complicated relationship with Bruce Wayne, a.k.a. The Dark Knight.  They were allies and, with Philadelphia being closer to Gotham than Metropolis, had proved over time that they would always have each other’s back when in a tight spot.  

But Bruce wasn’t his friend, so much as he was Clark’s and it was a dynamic not unlike befriending the best friend of one’s older sibling.  While anyone who gave Mike a hard time would feel Clark’s wrath, Bruce was given carte blanche in this arena and took a nearly sadistic pleasure in running roughshod over Mike at every opportunity.

“Clark, please tell me you haven’t told Bruce about what happened with me and Kara six years ago,” Mike’s stormy grey eyes begged. Between the three of them, Kara hadn’t been a forbidden subject, after all, she was Clark’s beloved cousin.  But Mike had always steered clear of divulging the specifics of the night that drove him away from National City.  Away from her.  Instead, Mike had always chosen to speak of Kara’s positive qualities whenever the subject came up in Bruce’s presence.  To that day, Clark and Lois were the only ones that knew the full extent of Mike’s heartbreak.

Clark’s grimace was all the answer that Mike needed to his query, but he compounded the already sinking feeling in Mike’s gut by adding, “How could I predict that a situation like this would bring us all together?”

“How could you not? This,” Mike indicated the field of battle, strewn with Dominator corpses, “was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Clark looked around and nodded.  “Point taken.”

“All you did was give him ammunition.”

“You know he’s just baiting you.  You should try standing up to him.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s just baiting me.”

After a moment a wide grin spread across Clark’s face, and he sighed in a somewhat melodramatic fashion, a hand over his heart. “The student has become the master.  I couldn’t be more proud.  I’ll tell him he can knock it off now.”

Mike did a double-take, his eyes widening to a nearly impossible size.   “Are you kidding me?” he asked, stupefied.  “This is all been some sort of an elaborate test?”

Clark’s laugh was hardy and unrepentant, his eyes sparkling with mirth.  “In the beginning it was just supposed to be a joke, but then it just became a kind of tradition.  We wanted to see what it would take to break you…but we never could.”

“Good to know I make an excellent verbal punching bag.”

“Hey,” Clark defended.  “It wasn’t without purpose.  You’ve seen how it can be, people wanting to tear you down even though all you want to do is help them.  Sometimes it’s hard not to lash out, not to get angry—sometimes it’s hard not to say, ‘I quit.  These people can save themselves.’  Bruce and I just wanted to thicken your skin a bit, especially in light of the reason you came to me in the first place.”

“My skin wasn’t the problem,” Mike pointed out. “It was my heart.”

“Well, you know what I think.  You’ve made your heart so bulletproof nothing’s getting through, and that’s no way to live.  You need something to remind you of why you keeping fighting.”

“I have something,” Mike reminded his friend.  “I have twenty-four somethings, which is why I need to get back to Philly sooner rather than later.”

“Let’s get changed and we can meet the others at Big Belly.  It’s just a few blocks down.” Clark threw an arm over Mike’s shoulder and led him from the field of battle, leaving the agents of the DEO to clean up the mess.

TBC

[sarahzwexler]

My Tips for Freelancers

I’ve been supporting myself as a freelance writer for over six years now. Sometimes people wanting to make the leap ask me for advice or what I wish I’d known before I started. Here’s what I’ve learned. Knit yourself a safety net before you jump. While you still have your day job, spruce up your portfolio, get your website up to date, and start a file of ideas, so you’ll be ready to pitch on day one of freelancing. Also, use your lunches and coffee breaks as an employed person to meet up with potential clients to build those relationships, so it doesn’t feel like you’re emailing them out of nowhere to ask about getting assignments when you do go freelance. Also, you might start getting work on the first minute of the first day you go freelance...but depending on the client, it can take about three months until you actually cash the check (my best record is three weeks from assignment to payment–and my worst is 14 months ). So, before you quit the day job, it’s smart to save up for four months’ worth of your living expenses–don’t forget that unless you’re on your partner’s or parent’s plan, you’ll be adding the expense of buying your own health insurance. This way, you can initially act as your own bank that you borrow from until the new checks come in, so you’re not starting your freelance career by running up credit card debt. Get a work email address. It’s a great way to separate your personal from your business and to keep work-life balance; when you look at your phone before bed, you can choose not to check your work account in a way you can’t if emails from your mom and from your demanding client come to the same account. When you start freelancing, send your introductory emails to your contacts from this address; it will make life a lot easier for setting boundaries between work time and down time, and you’ll be glad that you can easily put up an out-of-office just for work emails when you’re traveling. Set a monthly goal. My smart friend and fellow freelancer Alice Oglethorpe gave me this advice when I was starting out, and it saved me many times from hours of ambivalence or guilt: set a monthly income goal of how much you need to survive, plus a small cushion. (This can and should increase over time–mine went up every year, so it’s okay to start closer to the edge of what you need when you’re just starting out and add from there once you know what’s realistic.) Pitch yourself like crazy and say yes to everything clients send your way, working your ass off, until you hit your monthly goal. Maybe that’s on day 30 of the month, but maybe that’s on day 17; it may change every month. When that day does come, do a little dance, because the rest of the month is yours. You don’t have to continue the grind of pitching, so you can take a break to revive your creativity stores. You can turn down projects that don’t sound fun, guilt-free. You can work on your screenplay or take a trip or volunteer, without any I-should-be-working guilt. You can pitch or take on a project that sounds really interesting to you, but doesn’t pay well or is pro bono. Or, if you’re in build-your-savings mode, you can keep taking on work and squirreling away that extra cash. The best thing is that it gives you motivation to hit your goal, and then frees you to spend the rest of your time as you choose, without fretting over what you “should” be doing. Ignore the pajama-shamers. So many people told me to get out of my yoga pants and get dressed in “work” clothing, even to work from home. This was the worst advice for me, because it wasted precious time I could be working, or, you know, doing all of the things that make it a joy to work from home. I do try to make frequent plans on weeknights to make sure I shower and put on pants with a non-elastic waistband, but I don’t think there’s any reason that “has to” happen by 10am for you to feel good about yourself or be an adult. If wearing dressy clothes helps you feel professional, do it, but if you don’t want or need to, don’t feel pressure. You’re the boss of yourself now. Keep a “pitched” list. Not sure if this one will translate to other industries, but I find it helpful to keep a spreadsheet with each story idea, along with the editor/publication I pitched it to and the date. After I pitch, I set a reminder on my calendar for one week out to follow-up. If an editor responds that they’ll include it in an idea memo or present it at a meeting on X date, I put a reminder for the following day in my calendar so I can check in. In my follow-ups, I include a line about how I’d love to work with them on it but will need to pitch it elsewhere if it’s not a good fit for them right now). If I still haven’t heard back a few days after my follow-up, I move on. To make this a less disheartening process–and I find there is a lot of rejection as just part of the pitching process–for each story, I make a list of three editors I could see being interested in the story. That way, when one doesn’t go for it, I move down the list, which feels more positive and actionable than wondering what to do with it next. Pitch at the right time of day. Don’t pitch on a Monday–most people are scrambling to catch up after being away from the office for a couple days, and your email will likely fall to the bottom of the pile. Also don’t pitch on a Friday, since most people are burned out from the week and in autopilot or trying to check everything off their already-too-long to-do list to get out of there for the weekend. So, I prefer Tuesdays or Wednesdays. I also think there are sweet spots during the day, like 10:30/11am or 2:30/3pm. In my experience, these are less frantic times when people tend to be less swamped and more responsive. You can write those emails whenever and use Boomerang to schedule when they’ll send. Use tech to your advantage. I’m sure there are so many more awesome services you could use, but here’s what I vouch for: A lot of places email PDF contracts for you to sign, and I use Hellofax ($4.99/month) to e-sign them with a real signature and email or fax them back, without having a fax machine; you can also receive faxes this way. Use Boomerang to schedule when your emails will send. I know some people use programs that let you know if your email was read, but I don’t really see how that’s helpful. Always back everything up in a cloud-based service like Dropbox. I use Google Voice to record phone interviews (only works on incoming calls, though). I use Rev for interview transcriptions ($1/minute), which aren’t perfect (“your/you’re” type issues) but generally really good and are completed within a few hours. And I love Trello, which is basically the online version of a bulletin board, for a visual way to track and manage projects. Organize your desktop. My actual desk area can be piled high with stacks of papers, mail, and used water glasses, but my computer has to be organized if I’m going to find anything. My system is to make one folder for all freelance work (which automatically backs up to Dropbox, so I can access it from anywhere and don’t have to worry about my computer crashing). Within that, I make tons of subfolders–one for each publication/client–and one for general business housekeeping, like my W9, contracts, bio, and invoices. Know there are ebbs and flows. In August, people are on vacation. In December, everyone’s only thinking about the holidays. In September, people are out of money and trying to squeak by until the new fiscal year, which for a lot of companies in October, though they may not know their next year’s budget until November. Long story short, every freelancer will tell you there are high-income months and low-income months. When you hit a high month, put some of that extra money away. When you hit a low month, know it doesn’t mean you suck, that you’ll never work again, that you’re talentless. You’re awesome. Rely on the extra cash you saved during a high month and tell yourself the work will come back in a few weeks. Since the waiting can make you crazy, when work is slow, I try to work on pitches or new ideas for an hour a day, then enjoy the rest of the day. Since spending money when you don’t know what’s coming in can be stressful or guilt-inducing, I do cheap or free things (walking my dog, working in the garden, craft projects, cleaning closets, take a hike, have coffee with a friend), so I actually enjoy my time off, feel useful, and haven’t dug a financial hole. I also find that it helps to ping some clients I’ve established great relationships with and say something like, “Hi! I just wrapped up a big project for X [something I’ve done in the past few weeks or months] and am coming up for air and thinking about what I really want to focus on next. I loved working with you on Y Project–do you have anything in the pipeline that we could team up on again?” It’s a way to let them know you’re available without sounding super desperate, and I often got work this way after a quiet period.Record Keeping & MoneySorry, this part just sucks. You probably didn’t start your own business to spend your days meticulously keeping spreadsheets and hounding people to pay you, but so it goes. Keep a tight ship. Even if you’re not an especially type-A person, you have to keep a type-A record of your assignments, the fees, and whether you’ve been paid. (Believe me, I learned the hard way how embarrassing it can be to keep nagging a place to pay you...only for them to prove they already have and you never wrote it down.) I know some people use Quick Books or various services, but you can use a good ol’ Excel spreadsheet. I like Trello, which is basically the online version of a bulletin board for us visual folks to help with project management. I make Boards for each of the different stages of the process: Researching, Writing, With the Editor, Revising, Approved, and Paid. Then I make a card for each assignment (including the name of the client, the name of the project, my contact’s name, when the assignment is due, and the fee). This way, it’s easy to see what stories I haven’t been paid for when it gets to my invoice day. I also keep a separate board for each month where I keep a running tally of what I’ve earned that month in assignments to see how close I am to hitting my monthly goal. Get your money. Sending invoices to get paid and dealing with contracts and other paperwork is insanely boring, but it’s the only way to get paid. To keep the majority of your time focused on your actual work, but so you don’t forget to bill, set a recurring calendar event for every other week at the same day and time to send invoices. Go through your spreadsheet of the assignments you’ve finished but not been paid for, and start sending off those invoices. This sounds obvious, but is really easy to forget to do in the moment: make sure when money comes in that you mark it down as paid. I always found this easy to do with paper checks, but more places are moving to mandatory direct deposit or even PayPal-only deposits. So on your Deal With Money days, first run through your online accounts to see what deposits you’ve received so you can check those off before you start invoicing or following up on unpaid fees. Create a “taxes holding pen.” Few things feel worse than having to make a payment plan with the IRS because you thought the money in your checking account was yours...so you spent it before you realized a third of that wasn’t actually yours to spend. Taxes aren’t withheld from freelance jobs, so you’ll need to DIY for both to the Feds and the state (unless you happen to live in one of the few no-income-tax states). Depending on your state and your income, this could change, but it’s a good guide to plan that of the money you earn freelancing, you’ll need to pay one-third of that amount in taxes, with 25% of your income going to the Treasury Department and 7% or so to your state’s Department of Revenue. It feels a lot less painful–and prevents you thinking you have more cash than you actually do–if every time a payment comes in, you instantly transfer one-third of it to a separate account you use just for a holding pen for taxes. Then, when it’s tax time, you know you have the money, and you don’t have to deal with the gut blow of seeing your personal checking or savings account take a big hit. Pay Uncle Sam. I’m a writer, not a tax accountant, so please use this as a loose guide and not the gospel and ask a tax professional about your specific situation. Generally, freelancers have to pay estimated quarterly taxes or face fees later on. Check out the IRS’ super-clear and easy-to-understand (HAH JKJK) instructions online on the Form 1040-ES, the Estimated Tax for Individuals. The main things to note are the four dates when you should make payments by (ie, for 2017, they are: April 18, June 15, September 15, and January 16, 2018, in addition to your annual April 15-deadline taxes that everyone pays) and the address for where to mail your check–which varies by which state you live in–and the IRS form. You’ll need to Google your state’s estimated quarterly tax form as well. Then use your spreadsheet of where you’ve recorded your monthly income, and figure out what amount you need to send to state and federal (I’ve always done around 25% of my income to the Treasury Department and about 7% to my state’s Department of Revenue.) Make sure you also mark down in your spreadsheet the date of the quarterly payment and what amount you paid to state and federal, since you’ll need this info for your April 15th taxes. Start a retirement account. Sadly, there’s no company-matched 401(k)s for freelancers. You can put $5,000 every year into an IRA (Traditional or Roth), or open a SEP (Simplified Employee Pension Plan), which honestly is a little more confusing, but you can potentially put away a lot more, depending on how much you earn as a freelancer (you can contribute 25% of what you earned that year). You got this!