senior fling

lorcans-bitch  asked:

Tog fake dating for the au thing! Btw I love your blog!

IT’S FINALLY DONE. You didn’t say a specific ship so I hope you’re okay with Rowaelin. And tysm darling, I love your blog too! I hope you like this <3 Fake dating: i) It’s my high school reunion and I need a hot date so I can rub it in the faces of the people who hated me

“Okay,” says Aelin, nails (which are freshly manicured, of course) thrumming against the side of her her laptop. “How about this? ‘Ms. Galathynius regrets to inform the class of '07 that she cannot make it to this year’s class reunion, as she has better shit to do.’" 

"No, that sucks,” Aedion, her cousin, shakes his head from where he’s sitting on the couch. His girlfriend Lysandra, Aelin’s ex nemesis turned best friend, lounges on the other side, her feet in Aedion’s lap, and she makes a sound of agreement at his claim. “That makes it obvious you’re hiding something." 

Aelin glares at him. "I’m not hiding anything.” She shuts the laptop on 'anything’ as if to prove her point and swirls in her chair, knees up to her chest. “High school is a closed chapter of my life that I’d rather not open.” That part is true. At a young age, her parents had been murdered, and she and Aedion had been separated in the foster system. Aedion was lucky enough to stay close to home, but Aelin had been shipped to Rifthold, where her creepy foster dad Arobynn had let her roam free. And roaming free for teenagers sometimes equals multiple overdoses, getting arrested, and starting riots at block parties. 

But that’s not necessarily why she doesn’t want to go. Both Lys and Aedion know she’s been looking forward to this for years, to show how she’s gone from druggie to successful lawyer who, at 28, is already partnered with a law firm in New York City. And she still is damn proud. But also… single. “I don’t want to go alone, okay?”

“Jesus, Ace,” groans Aedion. “You’re in your twenties and can afford a flat-a nice one- in the Big fucking Apple. So what if you don’t have a boyfriend right now?" 

Lysandra winces. "Um… I know this isn’t helpful, but all of Rifthold High will probably care.” Aelin nods and throws her cousin an 'I told you so’ look. 

“Definitely not helpful, Lys.” He sighs. “It won’t help that we’re going to be there, too?” Lysandra was also Rifthold High alumni. She and Aelin-who’d gone by Celaena back then- had hated each other until after graduation, actually, when Lysandra had needed 'professional opinion’ on which lawyer to go to help get her now adoptive sister, Evangeline, out of an abusive home. Aelin had seen the girl’s scars and gone spitting, pointing Lysandra in the direction to the right lawyer and giving them a place to stay. Six years later, Lys was still her roommate, though Aelin wasn’t sure how long that would last. Not after she’d caught Aedion ring shopping. 

“No, it won’t,” she tells them. “I… this is super petty, but both Chaol and Dorian are in relationships.” Dorian had been a fling senior year for a few months. They’d agreed to stay just friends that summer, as he was staying in Rifthold and she was going to get her life together, and they’d done quite a job at that, actually. It was Chaol she was worried about. They’d bumped back into each other when she was 24 and he’d just turned 25, a police officer at NYPD. Of course they just had to hit it off. Really well. They stayed together for two years, migrating Dorian back into her life as well, when he proposed. She said yes, but everything fell to hell not soon after that. Though they’d made up and stayed tentative friends, he’d moved on much more quickly, is already engaged again to one Nesryn Faliq, who Aelin desperately wants to hate but can’t. 

Aedion mutters something that sounds like, 'Yeah, that’s definitely petty,’ but Lysandra shoots into a sitting position. “Oh Gods, I didn’t even think about that. Okay, let’s think. Fenrys?" 

"Dating Asterin Blackbeak,” Aelin tells her.


"Gay, and since I want to set him up with Nox, I can’t pretend he’s straight." 

"Uh… borrow Lorcan from Elide?" 

She laughs at that, hard, and so does Aedion. Elide, her adoptive sister, definitely would let her, but even though she and Lorcan have a tentative truce going, Aelin has no doubt that he’d tell everyone that he’s actually engaged to her little sister at the first chance he got. 

"Yeah,” Lysandra sighs. “I figured.”

“Really, I’ll just go to the 25th annual reunion,” says Aelin, playing with a piece of blonde hair. “Even if I’ll be so much less hot." 

"You have to go!” Her best friend protests. “Nehemia and Nox will be there. And… Aelin, Gods, you have to go for Sam.” Immediately, her heart lurches . Damn it, Lys has her. Sam had been her high school sweetheart sophomore and junior year, until he’d driven drunk, Aelin hopped up on coke in the passenger seat. They’d gone into an intersection without stopping, and, well… only one had come out. 

Aelin curses. “I know.” She also knows that if he had lived, they’d be going there together, possibly married, possibly already with a kid. The idea of bringing another guy suddenly puts a rotten taste in her mouth, but she knows she’s too proud and vain to go alone, even with the thought of Sam looming overhead. 

And then an idea hits her. 

“Holy shit I’ll be right back,” she tells them before she’s out of her chair and sprinting to the door and across the hallway. She bangs impatiently, because honestly, it’s only 7:00 and if he’s asleep he’s a pansy. He isn’t- the door opens, revealing his ridiculously hot and scowling face, and the dyed silver hair that should look dumb but doesn’t at all. 

“Oh,” he sighs. “It’s you." 

Usually, she’d respond with a rebuttal, but there’s already a big chance he’ll say no and sassing him won’t help in any way. She takes in a deep breath and says, "Whitethorn, I need a favor." 

Aelin is already regretting this. 

Not Rowan himself, surprisingly. He’d shown up at her flat in a tux that goes surprisingly well with his face tattoos, contrasting them to just the right amount, and been a perfect gentleman. Aedion’s still a little mopey that there’s another alpha male in his presence, but he’s coming around, and Lysandra had already known him, so it’s no surprise she approves of Aelin’s date choice. No, Rowan has been nothing but courteous and surprisingly funny, and they aren’t even to the reunion yet, so she can’t exactly regret him. 

What she regrets is what she’d agreed to give him in exchange for him accompanying her to the reunion and behaving. 

'I’ll owe you’ she’d told him like an idiot. They’ve just gone from hating each other to disliking each other and also wanting to fuck each other’s brains out, and so when she saw the way his eyes lit up mischievously and he’d immediately agreed to doing this, she’d known she was fucked. 

Oh well. As long as he doesn’t make her favor writing to her entire graduating class, 'Hey, you know that really hot guy I took with me to our reunion? Not my boyfriend! I lied, lmao!’ she’ll be fine. 

"I didn’t say this before,” he murmurs in her ear as they begin the walk up to registration for the reunion. “But you look stunning." 

She’s not sure if she’s blushing or not as she says, "I know. You clean up well too, Buzzard.” Had his lips just twitched into a half smile? 

The registration doesn’t take long, only signing her name to show she was here, as well as clicking an x for 'one guest,’ and as they wait for Lysandra to do the same, Aelin checks her reflection in a nearby glass display case. She’d chosen to wear a dress she’s had for a while but never been able to wear- it’s black and long sleeved, hugging to her body, and on the back of it is a gold dragon that winds up her body, which is evidently her favorite color. Of course she looks magnificent. She’ll never look anything less. 

Lys and Aedion join them-they’re color coordinated, Gods, they’re so cute it’s nauseating- and then it’s the four of them striding towards the old gym doors. Aelin loops her arm through Rowan’s, half expecting him to raise an eyebrow at her, but of course he doesn’t. Of course he knows they’re pretending to date, because duh, it’s implied.

She jumps when she feels his breath against her ear, followed by the low timbre of his voice. “Pretend I just said something funny." 

Aelin laughs softly even as she grits back, "Or you could, you know, actually say something funny. If you’re capable of that." 

"Ouch,” he chuckles softly. “Easy, Galathynius. Remember I’m doing you a favor.” How could she forget? She glances at him, expecting there to be hidden warning in his eyes, but there’s nothing but amusement. And it only makes her feel as though he’s REALLY going to make her regret this later on, even more than she’s been assuming. “I’ve never seen you so nervous before. Or, well, I’ve never seen you nervous at all, actually." 

She’s sure it’s obvious, but she still replies, "High school wasn’t the best of experiences for me." 

She, again, expects him to tease her, or subtly use that information against her, but instead he starts telling her this story from when he and Lorcan used to work together. She had been aware her sister’s fiance had worked with her neighbor, but she hadn’t known they had worked so closely. And she’s so busy listening attentively that she doesn’t notice the few people in the hall that stop, doesn’t hear them murmuring. 'Wow, is that Celaena? Twenty bucks says she relapsed.’ 'Who is that with her? He’s a hunk.’ She hears none of it, because of Rowan. 

They enter the gym, which is filled with tacky lighting, including strobe lights, and a bar that Aelin will not be partaking in, despite everyone else’s beliefs. They’re just moving to the sober people punch when there’s a shout. "Elentiya!” Aelin’s immediately turning, letting go of Rowan’s arm, because there’s Nehemia, looking radiant in gold. She looks older, more mature, but as soon as she smiles Aelin’s pretty sure she’s never been happier to see someone in her entire life, except perhaps when she’d found Aedion again after graduating. 

They embrace, laughter bubbling over. Nehemia will always have a soft place in her heart, will always be her original anchor. Without her, Aelin would probably still be Celaena, and she’d probably be six feet under. Behind her is Nox, who she embraces as well before leading the both of them back to the group. “You’ve both met my cousin Aedion.” Aedion nods, even embraces Nehemia. “This is Rowan Whitethorn. Rowan, these are Nox and Nehemia, two of the only people I actually liked during high school.” And it’s true. 'Celaena’ had known everyone, but liked very few. 

She’s thinking 'okay, NOW he’s definitely going to screw this up.'But again, stupid Whitethorn with his stupid perfect face and stupid manners and stupid intelligence that has even Nehemia impressed, proves her wrong. “I’m going to go get us some punch,” he excuses himself after a few minutes, and maybe her heart skips a beat when he brushes a piece of hair back behind her ear, maybe it doesn’t. 
“Oh my Gods, where did you find him?” Nox exclaims as soon as Rowan and Aedion have strode out of ear shot. “He’s so yummy, Ce-Aelin." 

"I suppose 'yummy’ is one accurate way to describe him,” teases Nehemia. “But really, Elentiya. Where did you meet him?" 

"I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Aelin replies primly.

Both of her friends look to Lysandra, who immediately reports, “He’s our neighbor." 

Aelin glares. "Lys!” Her best friend merely grins like a cat in response. 

“Where is it he’s from?” Nox asks. “Because the accent is sexy and I’ve decided I want one of him." 

Aelin smirks, and almost feels like she’s… bragging when she says, "He’s from Wendlyn, Scotland.”

“Who’s from Scotland?” She knows that voice. 

“Dorian!” She’s smiling as she turns and pulls him into a hug, which he gladly returns, before turning to his date. “Manon." 

Manon dips her head. "Aelin.” They’ve just recently gotten on first name terms, mainly because of the fact that they both love Elide to death and Manon’s around enough to make herself tolerable.

“No, really, who’s from Scotland?” Dorian asks again, and Nox looks so smug she’s half convinced he’s going to sing out, 'Aelin has a boyfriendddd!“ 

He doesn’t get the chance, though. Chaol strolls up, Nesryn on his arm, and Gods, Aelin REALLY wishes she could hate her, simply because of the way she looks in that dress. But she can’t, and in that moment, she doesn’t even feel slightly resentful towards her ex, which she typically does. She smiles in a way that’s not pained, and their hug, for once, is not tense. And Rowan walks back over. 

The night goes smoother than she can imagine, and she should be worried about how well he’s behaving like she was before, but most of the time she’s too busy laughing. She introduces Rowan to her friends, and she can immediately tell Chaol is jealous- but not because of her. No, he’s jealous because Dorian and Rowan are 'bros’ in a solid five minutes. Cain is still a dick, but his remarks roll right off her back, and he only says them until Rowan saunters up with a 'Everything okay, Fireheart?’ -which oh my Gods, she’s pretty sure Fireheart is her new favorite nickname. And Kaltain… Kaltain is better, less of a bitch. Maybe a little empty (Aelin had heard that she’d done meth for a while), but trying. Aelin, of all people, knows what trying to move passed your mistakes looks like. 

And she dances. 'Warning Sign’ by Coldplay comes on, and Rowan literally sings in her ear-except instead of the actual lyrics, he’s singing about what people are doing around them to the melody, and she has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from ugly snorting, her shoulders shaking with the effort. 
Still, even though she stays longer than she expected (she’d expected to stay for thirty minutes tops and they’re bordering on two and a half hours now), she’s ready to go long before Lysandra is. She turns to Rowan. "Want to get out of here?” He raises his eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes. “Not that, you buzzard. There’s a pancake house down the street.” She’d spent many hungover mornings there in her teens. “They have no real food here and I’m starving." 

He doesn’t even have to consider- doesn’t shrug in disinterest like Chaol would have, either. "That sounds great.” She leaves with plans for Nehemia and Nox to come visit soon (and more frequently), and to the sounds of whistling from her friends as she laces her fingers through Rowan’s and they exit the gym. 
Once they’ve made it outside, Rowan glances at her sideways, their hands still laced together. “You made it sound like it was going to be awful there." 

"Well, to be fair, I thought it would be,” she shrugs. There’s an urge to tell him the real reason why it would be awful- because of Sam, but she still barely knows this man. And 'hey, I’m partly responsible for the first love of my life’s death’ is not a light first date-fake, she reminds herself, fake date,- topic. Maybe someday, though. If he doesn’t do a personality 180 and make more bonding like this impossible. 

“Your friends are nice. Did you date the Chaol guy?" 

Ever perceptive Rowan. "Yeah, I did. It, uh, didn’t end well, but we’ve worked through it. Ah, here it is.” They stop in front of the pancake house. “I’m eating french toast until I pass out.” He chuckles-he’s been doing that a lot tonight- and follows her inside. 

They go straight to their seats, and ten years later, the booth she picks is still HER booth. It brings an ache to her heart, but she focuses on the hot guy sitting across from her in the present instead of heartbreaking memories, and they chatter as easily as they have all night. It’s only when she’s (finally) pouring syrup onto her french toast that she says, “I haven’t thanked you for tonight." 

He looks confused. "You have. At least five times." 

"No, I don’t mean the favor,” she shakes her head. “I mean thank you for making it fun. And helping me relax a bit. Also, thanks for scaring the shit out of Cain. I hate that guy." 

His lips curl up in a way that makes him look almost… bashful? "Thank you for inviting me.” Okay, she’s had enough- she can’t wait any longer to know what he damn wants. He’s been nothing but perfect, and NO ONE acts this way without a price. Not for her, anyways. 

“Okay, spit it out,” she sighs, spearing a piece of strawberry with her fork. “What’s your price?”

He blinks. “What?" 

"I told you I’d owe you a favor, and there’s obviously something you want really badly, so what is it? I would really appreciate if it wasn’t gross, but if it is I’ll do it anyways. Because I’m not a wimp." 

His face goes from shocked to amused to- ah, there it is- mischievous. "Okay, you caught me.” She braces herself. “Go on a real date with me." 


"Wh-what?” She stammers.

His confidence sputters for a second before he repeats himself. “Go on a date with me. And no, it doesn’t include this pancake house." 

She’s gaping. "Is this a joke?” His confidence sputters again, and he shakes his head. “I… I thought you hated me." 

He looks actually affronted by the idea. "Maybe at first, but it hasn’t been that way for a long, long time. I’ve just…” Maybe it’s the lighting, but she can swear his cheeks have gone a little red. “I’ve been too much of a coward to ask you." 

"And that’s what you’ve been planning to use your 'favor’ on the entire time?” He blushes harder. Oh my Gods, this is the cutest thing she’s ever seen, and she can’t wait to tell Lysandra, but she forces herself not to blurt out a 'Yeah, when? Right now? I’m game for now.’ Instead, she sighs dramatically. “Oh, I should have never given you that damned favor.” But her voice drips with sarcasm and she’s grinning, and when he does too her heart leaps in her chest. It feels familiar, slightly. It feels long waited. “Text me when, Buzzard. You’ve got yourself a date.”

Has she mentioned how glad she is she went to her high school reunion?

that feeling when you casually, naively mention to the CEO of your company that you’re an artist in your spare time and he asks you what kind of thing you draw

Questlove and Lin-Manuel Miranda Give Details of The Hamilton Mixtape (Vanity Fair):

L.R.: Lin, did you always want Questlove to be involved with the cast album and this mixtape?

L-M.M.: That was the dream. The Roots played my Spring Fling senior year at [Wesleyan] college, and I was a huge fan of the Roots’ albums.

Q.: I didn’t think anything would affect me the way Fela! had. That was the loudest, most offensive, most immersive play I’ve ever seen. Everyone who sold me on Hamilton—Common, Latifah—all said the same thing: that I wouldn’t know what I was going into.

L.R.: Lin, it’s kind of amazing that you took Ron Chernow’s massive Hamilton biography on vacation and thought, Hamilton … hip-hop … eureka! Did you ever have any doubts about it?

L-M.M.: I never had any doubts about the idea. But the most nervous I was was when the first hip-hop artist came to see the show at the Public Theater. It was Busta Rhymes; he sat in the front row—but even if he sat in the back I would have seen him. You don’t miss Busta. He’s like Mount Rushmore to me. So when he came backstage and said he was so moved by it, I thought, We’re going to be O.K.

Q.: The brilliant thing about this whole project was and is that this project has legs beyond just the play and the cast album.

L.R.: In addition to rap, the Hamilton score has R&B, some jazz, and ballads. Is the Mixtapealbum going to be as musically varied? Who’s going to be on it?

Q.: So far, Busta Rhymes, Ben Folds, Regina Spektor, Latifah, Common, Chance the Rapper, and others. People are coming out of the woodwork, knocking on the door. Half the songs are cover versions of songs in the show, and the others are interpolations—we’ll take some of this, some of that, and make something new out of it.

L-M.M.: I’m not going to be on it because for me the goal is to keep this inspired by the original. But it is funny that this was my first idea, and now it’s come full cycle and coming after the show.

Q.: Hamilton is the balance that hip-hop needed. It’s changing the conversation. The amount of people in my apartment building treating me different now … This is a key moment for Broadway and for music.

anonymous asked:

Will you please make my day and write a drabble of student katniss and professor peeta having had a fling in senior year of her college and then like 3 years later they meet again at a friends house or something with a 2 year old blue eyed little girl tagging along katniss (peeta + katniss' child but he didnt know)

I’m not sure if anyone else got to this request, but here’s my interpretation.

My husband says that I’m a story tease…

But, happy reading!


Her back hurt.

Opening her eyes, Katniss found herself sprawled out on the floor of her living room surrounded by empty beer bottles and confetti. She groaned as she sat up and was surprised to see that she was covered by a simple white button down.

Sniffing it before putting it on, she was surprised by the sweet, yet familiar scent. Katniss searched her blurred memory trying to remember what had happened last night.

Johanna, her best friend and roommate, had decided to throw a party to celebrate the end of Finals Week.

It had been a total rager—everyone that they knew had decided to come to their modest one-level house for the celebration.

Everyone including—

“Good morning.”

The voice caused a sudden throbbing in her center.

His voice often did—and always in the most inappropriate places.

Like his classroom.

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