Academic by day. Fangirl at night.

I had so much trouble with drama scenes. Fundamentally, I don’t cry.

Breathless and spent, Draco tumbles down onto the bed. He’s laughing. A real, genuine laugh. He turns his head and finds Harry beside him, flushed and amused and a little bewildered.

The reason why sits on Harry’s finger.

A gold band.

The only thing he’s wearing.

“So?” Draco asks, shifting to face him properly.

“So what?” Harry counters.

Draco is in no mood to draw the process out. He crowds into Harry’s space, nipping gently at the sweat-slick skin of his neck, then soothes the sting with a kiss.

Against his ear, he says, “You’re wearing it.”

Harry looks at him, eyes half-lidded. “So I am.”

“I’m going to presume, then.” Draco takes Harry’s hand, draws it up, kisses the ring he had slotted onto his finger half an hour ago, then holds it tight.

“Presume?”

“That you’re saying yes. You didn’t say it earlier.”

Harry’s lips twitch. “You didn’t exactly give me the chance.”

“Is it a yes, Harry?” Draco presses.

He knows it is. It has to be.

How can it not be after everything? After the war and the trials, after both of them becoming Aurors, after the fights and the arguments, after the shared drinks where absolution was found at the bottom of a pint glass and resurrection between the sheets.

How can it not be yes, when even after all that, they spent months denying themselves the joy and love of each other because they both felt like they didn’t deserve it?

Harry tightens his fingers around Draco’s.

He tilts his head, fondness written plainly across his face. “I’m inclined to acquiesce.”

“Inclined to acquiesce,” Draco repeats mildly. “Wow. Swallowed a thesaurus, did you?”

“Swallowed something,” Harry mutters, arching a brow. “Swallowed your brain through your—”

Draco pinches his waist. Harry laughs, and then Draco is tickling him properly, ruthless with it, fingers digging into every vulnerable place he knows by heart.

“Draco—fuck—stop—”

“Answer the question.”

“I did!”

“You used four syllables too many.”

Harry squirms beneath him, panting and helpless and wearing Draco’s ring.

“Yes,” he gasps at last. “Yes, I’ll fucking marry you.”

Draco stills and for a moment, the room goes quiet around them. Then Harry reaches up, cups Draco’s face, and smiles.

so, all athletes should immediately stop playing sports. construction workers, anyone with jobs that put them at risk, they need to find different employment. people with uteruses shouldn’t ever get pregnant, either. actually you know what? don’t enter a car or vehicle at all! and don’t even get me started on old people. what age do we think they should just give it up & throw in the towel? 50? 60? after that they become way too burdensome. it’s a problem.

Unfortunately, Draco was very used to hearing but.

“Mr Malfoy, thank you for your Healer application. Your NEWT scores are exemplary, and we thoroughly enjoyed reading your dissertation. We would love to offer you a position at St Mungo’s, but we’ve decided to move forward with a candidate whose public profile is less complicated.” “Draco, I know our parents want us to get married, and whilst I think it wouldn’t be a terrible arrangement, I just can’t do it. You’re lovely and all, but I have to think of any children we might have. It would be so difficult for them to have a Death Eater as a father.” “Darling, you know I adore it when you visit. I really do live for them… but perhaps it would be easier if you came when it was dark out? So the press didn’t see you.” “You can work in the DMLE admin department, Malfoy. The pay is as shit as the hours, but it’s probably more than you deserve.”

So used to hearing but was Draco that he lived in a constant state of flight. One foot out the door. His heart tucked away safe and sound. It was easier to keep his guard up than risk the pain of letting someone close enough to wound him properly.

You would think, with so much practice, that his walls would be impenetrable. It took Harry Potter returning to England after years abroad for Draco to learn this was simply not true.

Polite smiles as they passed each other in the corridor became small talk in the cafeteria queue. Small talk became shared jokes over lunch. Shared jokes became Harry waiting by Draco’s desk at the end of the day, asking if he wanted to get a drink. One drink became two, became Harry’s hand on the small of Draco’s back, became trysts in the supply cupboard, nights at each other’s homes, weekends away, until somehow—impossibly—all of it became whispered promises between the sheets that Draco didn’t believe.

But gods, did he want to.

He wanted to believe so badly that, despite half his heart constantly bracing for the inevitability of but, the other half lived in hope of a full stop.

It came on a Wednesday evening. Harry and Draco stood side by side at the hob, both tired from work, both still in their shirtsleeves, cooking dinner together like they did most nights.

“You’re going to burn the garlic,” Draco said, reaching past Harry to turn down the heat. “Add the stock now.”

Harry did as he was told. “That enough?”

“Perfect. Add the rice and let it simmer for fifteen.” Draco glanced at the oven. “I think the chicken is almost done, you know—”

“I love you.”

So sudden it was that Draco froze. He braced himself, waiting for the but.

I love you, but this is difficult. I love you, but people will talk. I love you, but I don’t know if I can.

Only, it never came. Instead, Harry took his hand, threaded their fingers together, and stood so close that they were chest-to-chest, and Draco began to wonder.  

“I love you,” Harry said, softer this time. “That’s all.”

Draco swallowed. His heart was no longer tucked away safe and sound. It was right there in his throat, beating itself half to death because it was true.

From ancient to abstract, this one sure got around.

Queer M/F for all your queer M/F needs. These romances might be straight passing at first glance but fuck the first glance they're queer as hell.

I DID THIS IM VERY PROUD OF IT YOU KNOW WHY

BECAUSE

WAIT FOR IT

Gold ring, greybeard, trippin’ on the mushrooms

Blood-mad Nazgul trashin’ the hotel room

We don’t care

We got to Rivendell across the stream

And everybody’s like

Mountains, dwarf mines, presents from the Elf Queen

Rowboats, rock paths, Gollum on a rope leash

We don’t care

So I’m in college and I have no idea what I want to major in. My heart says literature but that isn’t going to make me money and college is EXPENSIVEEEEE. So I’m looking at a program called ‘interactive art and technology’. I know graphic design itself isn’t a huge moneymaker but this program combines UX UI design, game design, programming, etc with graphic design and everything. I have no idea who to talk to to make sure that this is a lucrative career. A prof I had told me that graphic design is a lucrative career but I don’t believe her cause she’s probably been out of the market for years. I wonder if my advisors will even give me a correct answer about asking for pay (I’m kinda ashamed of asking about pay myself), and I wonder who I can ask? How do I know if it’s a good industry to work in? How can I get an honest opinion of it? (Like, I know programming is a moneymaking major but since this program is arts oriented to, I wonder if it will even be lucrative?) And what do I do if it turns out it’s not a good major to be in?

Sorry, I know that was a lot 😅😅 hope y’all have a good day!

Not to worry, pet! We have a couple of articles on the best way to choose a college major and career:

High School Students Have No Way of Knowing What Career to Choose. Why Do We Make Them Do It Anyway? 

The Actually Helpful, Nuanced, Non-Bullshit Way to Choose a Future Career 

Your College Major May Not Prepare You for Your Job—but It Can Prepare You for Life

The tl;dr of it all is that Glassdoor.com is a great resource for comparing salaries, getting employee reviews of companies, and figuring out what it's really like in a given profession.

We also recommend requesting informational interviews from alumni who work in the field you're targeting. Good luck, sweet pea!

How to understand what you read.

In a world that is getting more and more anti-intellectual, being able to understand information is going to be a huge leg up. You could do so much with an english degree that they dont tell you. So many places are just concerned that you have a degree.

Totally agree with the English major above, and adding:

You can always take classes outside your major. Maybe you do a literature degree but take a coding class. Maybe you do the art & tech major you mentioned but also do a few literature classes. You don't even have to officially minor. No one can stop you from taking classes for fun.

I can tell a story, not just with data but with words. I can write a convincing and persuasive PRD. I can draw connections between disparate parts of my job and my company and tell others about them with metaphors that make them go "aha!".

This isn't a thing I see from the folks who didn't have a good background in literature.

"Liberal arts" degrees are very good at teaching you how to connect, how to think, how to tell a story from a jumbled mass of facts. They're good at teaching you to question sources and biases and seek out context. They're good at teaching you to break down complicated things into understandable language.

I'll also seconding (third?) what twoleggedmermaid said. I have a Comm degree with a concentration in PR. I haven't had a single communications or PR job, but the skills I learned have been extremely useful in every job I've had since.

One more thing you may find helpful is that many schools have a major called something like Interdisciplinary, Multidisciplinary, or Independent Studies. It's more work on the front end, but you essentially get to make your own major. Before I transferred and switched to Comms, I was developing a multidisciplinary track for Science Journalism, concentrating on environmental issues and human Ecology. I was combining courses from the human eco, journalism, and English, plus intro level stuff in most science fields. I was even able to design it in a way that would've let me get a Creative Writing minor, which is where my non-science passions lie.