nofaithnotrust-jane:
âOk, I will.â
âRight, well. Â Iâll see you then, Jane.â

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@studious-darling
nofaithnotrust-jane:
âOk, I will.â
âRight, well. Â Iâll see you then, Jane.â
gentleman-blood-addict:
âYeah I know but itâll be quicker this way.â
âSo sorry Iâm not fast enough for you.
philomathmilo:
âEven your essays werenât perfect right from the start. Thatâs what teaching is about right? Helping the students improve so they can reach your level.â
âNo.â
protectedviolet:
âI think you just hate grading papers.â
âThereâs also that, yes.  But, I only hate it because theyâre all idiots.â
philomathmilo:
Milo scrambled back into his seat, adjusting his glasses. âThat seems a bit extreme, I mean, most of the students do well in the class discussions. That usually translates.â
âWell, if they didnât want me to be extremely harsh in grading, maybe they shouldnât have been extremely awful at writing.â
nofaithnotrust-jane:
âIâve done some of that, but when you move around a bunch, its not like I could keep any books to do something consistent. But, um, if youâre really willing to lend me those books, Iâd like that.â
âAbsolutely! Â Iâm always a fan of learning. Â If you could stop by Professor Thatchâs office sometime, Iâll have them together for you.â
Someday We Wonât Remember This || Dash & John
the-dashlikes:
âFuck!â Dash said looking around lost. Where was he? How had he gotten so turned around? He had known this place like the back of his hand but now in the dark he didnât know where he was or where to turn. Earlier he had been so angry, it seemed the whole castle had outted him before he could even out himself. He was striking out with girls left and right, one even had the audacity to ask him to go shopping with her. He wasnât like that. That wasnât who he had become. He just happened to like one guy, a single guy, and now Dash feared his parents would catch wind of the rumors. They already were ashamed to be his parents, they already never wanted anything to do with him this was just the tip of the ice berg. So Dash did what he always did when he was mad. He ran. Typically he would fly of course, but he had his legs his broom was too far. He had just kept running that was until he found himself lost, very lost, and in desperate need for some alcohol. âFuckâ He whispered out of breath.Â
Dash looked around. Where was he? Suddenly he saw a stumbling figure who was⊠âJohn?â He said surprised. When the boy didnât respond he repeated again. âJohn?â He had known the boy from when he was at Hogwarts in his house, now he was a teacher and⊠Was he drunk? Dash ran ahead to catch up with the boy confused. âJohn, what the fuck?â
He stopped, very clearly hearing his name. Â Turning in an attempt to find the voice, he was just siply met by Violetâs little brother. Â âOh, itâs you.â Â He made a slight noise, waving off his arrival. Â Dash wasnât the worst person he could have run into--he just wasnât an ideal person. Â John had never really been a fan of him. Â But, with his mind feeling as heavily foggy as it did right now, hopefully it wasnât about to be an encounter that wasnât tolerable at the least. Â âYouâre out late. Â Isnât it, ah--you should be in the castle?â
protectedviolet:
âPretty sure every person who has an essay youâre supposed to be grading would declare you the worst. We could get a petition going.â She couldnât stop herself chuckling as he turned away and muttered about her being the worst. âWhy thank you Mr. Darling. Iâm honored.â
âIâll take it. Though to be fair, they earned their grades by being the worst, first.â
gentleman-blood-addict:
âDuh, Iâm coming,â he gets up, âhey, do you want some help getting to the door?â
Immediately his hand went to his leg, and John paused for a moment to make a face at his brother. Â âNo. Â Absolutely not. Â I can get to the door just fine, thank you.â
philomathmilo:
âWait, wh-whoa!â
â...right. Â Anyway, professor. Â The essays are graded and theyâre awful and we should fail everyone.â
nofaithnotrust-jane:
âBesides imbecile and street kid? I havenât had any class consistently enough to learn anything seriously. Iâm hoping I can start to fix that now.â
âClasses arenât always that helpful. Â I find, ah, self-instruction is an incredibly valuable tool. Â I have a lot of extra books, if youâd like? Â For basic languages. Â Sign language, French, Spanish...you know. Â Those sorts of things.â
protectedviolet:
Violet grinned at his excitement, trying not to kick her legs against the desk. âI know. I think Iâve got a plaque declaring me âthe worstâ up in my office already. I could get you a matching one. But youâre welcome. I found it buried in the bookshop, how could I keep it to myself?â
âExcuse you, but Iâm not the worst.  That title is yours alone.â  He rolled his eyes dramatically, then turned away to grin stupidly at the cover, running his hand over it.  âGod, why are you so--the worst?  How dare you, Violet.â  After another moment of admiring his book, he set it aside. âMiss Parr, I'm very pleased to let you know that I do think you have the highest grade Iâve ever seen in languages before.â
money-doesnt-lie:
Birthday. Mira stared blankly as he spoke, the word jarring any attempt at clever retorts. Distantly, she was glad that she had set the coffee safely on her desk, lest she have dropped it in her surprise. After a moment, the feeling started to wear off, and some semblance of a laugh slipped past her lips. âYour birthday?â She smiled a little helplessly, wondering if she really ought to be surprised. Of course he would be working on his birthday- god. âAnd youâre here? John.â Waving her hand with finality at his stack of papers, she shook her head. âNo more of that. Iâll finish whatever you have left. John Darling, your birthday shouldnât be spent grading. That is out of the question.â
âWell, where else am I supposed to be?  The world doesnât just stop because I was born so many years ago.  And someone has to grade these and Iâll be damned if they have to wait for the rest of eternity because Thatch loses them.  They will not fall victim to the eternal torture of not knowing your grade.â  He rolled his eyes, though already he was getting up from his chair.  Any excuse to leave it behind was good enough for him.  âYou donât have to finish it.  Really, I can handle it on my own, Professor.  Even if we--if I go do something, all I have to do is come back and fail them all.  Itâs that simple, honestly.â
gentleman-blood-addict:
âI did? What did I suggest, I forgetâŠâ
âI donât know, and I donât really care. Â Literally anything is better than this.â Â He covered his mouth, rubbing his jaw anxiously before starting towards the door. Â âAre you coming?â
Someday We Wonât Remember This || Dash & John
Teaching wasnât the worst thing going on in Johnâs life, but sometimes it felt like it.  Honestly, there wasnât really anything bad going on.  His sister was safe, his brother was mostly fine.  His parents werenât in his life, but he convinced himself he preferred it that way.  Work wasnât terrible, people in the school were tolerable.  But John felt like this was fake, somehow.  It all felt very, very wrong and he hated it.  He was miserable--even though he didnât feel like he had any reason to be so upset.  It was hard to get through each day like this, though he didnât suppose he really had any choice.  What else was he supposed to do?
Get incredibly, incredibly drunk, apparently.  At least, that was Johnâs solution today.  Heâd graded as much as he could get through before his eyes started to tear and blur, and then went out and drank until he didnât quite care so much anymore.  The next course of action was going to be continue grading--at the worst, the work would be more tolerable now.  Getting home was proving to be difficult, though.  His room was so far from where he drank, and it was dark--incredibly so.  Was it always this dark?  It felt darker than usual.  An eclipse? No.  What?  John stumbled slightly, clearing his throat loudly as he paused to regain his bearings.  Which way was it?  Left--definitely.  A left.  He turned sharply to the right, taking a confident step forward and only barely keeping his balance.  âRight,â he mumbled to himself as he continued on, not even registering the person addressing him at first. âRight,â he repeated louder.  âWell.â
money-doesnt-lie:
âClearly.â Ducking to hide her smile, she set her own cup down on her desk, opting not to sit down just yet. There was only so much sitting still that she could manage, and that meeting had certainly been too much. âFor the record, I think the Arithmancy department might miss you. I couldnât tell you, though.â She shrugged innocently, looking back at him again. âBut, since you are sticking around, how is all of that going?â She asked with a grin, nodding at his stack of assignments. âYou looked a little worse for wear when I walked in.â
âRight.  Well, ah, Iâd miss the arithmancy department as well.  Itâs, uh--itâs nice.  Having tolerable professors around.â John gave a half-smile, but quickly brushed it off with a loud groan as she ased about his work.  âIs it wrong of me to hate almost every single student I--ah, every single student Thatch has?  Because theyâre terrible at best and just very, very stupid at worst.â  He held his face in his hands, taking a moment before running them through his hair.  âTheyâre just so frustratingly--unaware? And considering itâs my birthday, Iâd much rather be anywhere than here, grading this garbage.â John paused for a moment--he hadnât really intended on letting it slip that today was his birthday.  But, now that he had, there was no reason to really hide it. He wet his lips, hesitating a moment more before continuing.  âI mean, honestly.  Youâd think theyâd have at least been a little considerate of me, considering.â
protectedviolet:
âUnnecessary or not, its yours. Happy Birthday loser.â Vi sat on the one clear part of his desk rather than in the chair meant for students, figuring that it would give him something else to complain about in a moment.â
He snorted, smiling despite himself as he neatly pulled the paper off of it. Â It was hard to hide his immediate excitement, and so after struggling with it for a quick second, he didnât bother at all. Â âYouâre the worst,â he said, gently hitting her knee with the book. Â âThis is incredible, Violet. Â Really. Â Thank you.â